A STUDY OF THE MIDDLE HIGH GERMAN VERSNOVELLE : MORIZ VON CRAÛN WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO ITS LITERARY AND CULTURAL BACKGROUND Ruth Charlotte Harvey A Thesis Submitted for the Degree of PhD at the University of St Andrews 1959 Full metadata for this item is available in St Andrews Research Repository at: http://research-repository.st-andrews.ac.uk/ Please use this identifier to cite or link to this item: http://hdl.handle.net/10023/13389 This item is protected by original copyright A study of the Middle High German Versnovelle MORIZ VOW CEAflN with special reference to ite literary and cultural background .. v ■ \ A Thesis presented by RUTH CHARLOTTK HARVBT to the University of St Andrews in application for the degree of Ph*D* ProQuest Number: 10166985 All rights reserved INFORMATION TO ALL USERS The quality of this reproduction is dependent upon the quality of the copy submitted. In the unlikely event that the author did not send a com p le te manuscript and there are missing pages, these will be noted. Also, if material had to be removed, a note will indicate the deletion. uest ProQuest 10166985 Published by ProQuest LLC(2017). Copyright of the Dissertation is held by the Author. All rights reserved. This work is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code Microform Edition © ProQuest LLC. ProQuest LLC. 789 East Eisenhower Parkway P.O. Box 1346 Ann Arbor, Ml 48106- 1346 Hiu*3! D hi CL A HAT ION I hereby deolare that the following Thesis is based on the results of research oarrled out by me, that t hr Thesis is my own composition, and that it has not previously been presented for a Higher Degree. The research was oarrled out in the Universities of St Andrews and Oxford. CERTIFICATE I certify that Ruth Charlotte Harvey hae spent • ♦ , terms at Research work in the University of S t Andrews that she has fulfilled the conditions of Ordinance Ho. (St Andrews)f and that she is qualified to submit the accompanying Thesis in application for the degree of Fh«P. (Professor) CAKfiKH I graduated in Modem Languages at Somerville Collage9 Oxford, In 1938f proceeding to the degree of K.A. (Oxon.) in 1942. In October 1950 I wae appointed Lecturer in German at St Salvator’s Collegef St Andrewe Universityf which poet I held till 1 Joined the staff of St Anne9e College9 Oxford9 ae Lecturer in German in January 1959* The Research which is now submitted as a Ph.D. Thesis was begun in 1950. Chapter One • Introduc tien • • • • • • • » Chapter Two - Hie involution of the Theme '’rofaco • • • • • • • # • • • 1# The Frenoh Source 1, The deep at the tryat • • • 2m The breach between the lovexni The regret* of the countess# me historicity of the hero and heroine. • • JLJL Chapter • The Oozn^m Accretione 1# 'm© historical initrodinotion i W t 4Hie dioccuroe on love • • . i o* • nd* readings, by ehanges in the order of the lines and by oxoiolon of passages felt to be later in torpolatiosis* that it was not a wholly satis­ factory bool® for an approach along ::ioro traditional lines* It waa accordingly Judged more co .vo iie.it to abide by 3chroed©rfs veroion of the text, from the loot (13JJ9) edition of whloh all reforcncea In the following pages ar© tal^ en# It is a pleasure to record qy latitude to BrafMSOr C*T*Carr of St Andrews University for ills eons to. it ?ielp and enoouragenent since the inception of tiio work, and to Profesoor Pretael of laisurg University foe? lilo friendly and stimulating interest in the efforts of a fellow— enthusiast whose air's and co. .'.elusions nevertheless differed in oo many respects from his own# hy warmest thanks are also due to Professor R *C* Jalma ton of St Andress and Dr J«iini$at .>oot cl; of Oxford, who rood the manuscript and rad© sway valuable suggestions; to the Photograsplxie Iepsrtaont of the Vienna* who prepared for me a photoQtatic reproduction of the m.| to the rhotooruphlo Deportments of the British 1 useun and the Vlotorla and Albert tueeun for tho too reproductions included in the Appendix; to Hr Philip Qrioroon, Milntf Oonvllle and Caluo college, CMferidae, oho solved for ae the problem of the "Bavarian shilling"; and to the many friends and colleoguos at St Andrews, Oxford, and eleeahoro, who oatlofied tay 1 nortunate der>iands for Information or proffered helpful advice. Chapter One INTRO DUCT ION "naurloe de Craon - une dee dnigmes littdraires lee plus curieuses du moyen Age allemand*"1 Among the minor literary productions of the ohlvalrie age in Germany, few can have provoked such widely divergent speculation as Morjg von Oratin* Not that the work has ever been in the forefront of debate - on the contrary it has been if anything unjustly neglected - but its whole character ie such as to invite controversy* 2 The unique MS* in which it has come down to us dates from the early years of the sixteenth century, and its read­ ings are in many places obscure if not actually corrupt* tiow these obscurities and corruptions arose we can only guess* since we know nothing whatsoever of the various stages of transmission through which the text may have passed in order 1* A* Moret, Pofrmes et tableaux du moyen &gq allemand (Pari* 1939)»p. 193. ^ 2* The celebrated parchment codex popularly known as the ”Ambra8er Heldenbuoh" now No* 118 (formerly No* 73) in the Natlonalblbllothek in Vienna, which was written for the Kmperor Maximilian I by his secretary Hans Hied of Bosen* Since Moris von Qratin comes near the beginning of the MS* (fols* liv - v*77 we can assume that it was written down in, or shortly after, the year 1504* to reaeh ita final form. For the rest, the history of the poem is a total blank. In its own day it seems to have met with little success» and no allusion to it is discover* able anywhere in contemporary or later sources. The identity of the author is, and doubtless will remain, a complete ay»* tery. The date of composition is much disputed * some 2 * scholars placing it as early as 1180, others as late as 1220.*' The very title of the work has been the occasion of disagree* ment.* 1# &.M. Meyer (ZfdA. 39, 1895, pp. 305ff•) advanced the view that our poem formed part of the lost Umbehano of Bllgger von Steinaoh mentioned by Gottfried von Strassburg in Tristan 4709ff. Though not impossible, this theory is very doubtful and has never found gen* oral acceptance. 2. H. de Boor, Me MfIeoh* .{ASiaiBK (d. Soor-Mewaid, ■.0 3chlctyta der ieutachen ..iterator, Vol. 2, Munich 1952)» pp. 145—50. 3. G. Khrismann, Gesohiohte der deutsohen Litera m L M m s m II, 2, 1 (Munich PP. 4# The superscription in the M3, refers only to a single episode from the introductory sections _ auoh wie eln Fraw 3wi von contents the historioa, bulks far larger than the principal theme, which is die* missed with a single ohrase j Vimd, wl.,.^rltJ1^a,.xo.a H i Sr& .iji,..yjm. J**aasl«' in th. earliest iitlon of the poem by H.F. Maasmann (v.d. Hagens Qer- ‘s, 9, Berlin 1850, pp. 103ft.) it was given the rather .eading title Mauriziue und Boanunt (or, more folly, von hrun * a misreading for i f l n. e m a S S.x v j 79), pp. 27ff.» wae the firat tls Moriq von p.faoa, or Crag&, which is now universally accepted. What the poem was originally called we ehallf of course, never know. Yet if the text as we have it ie beset with difficul­ ties* the question of its origin and derivation ie even more problematic. It is certainly based on a french source of some kind; but since this has not survived* we have no means of making the direct comparison which alone would enable us to tell precisely how far the German version is a faithful reflection of the original* and how far it has been expanded or modified or possibly transformed altogether in the process of adjustment to new aims and ideas. We have* it is true* a French poem — the so-called fabliau Du chevaliar quj^re- oovra l'amor d> aa daaa1 - which la obviously related to this lost source* but as the exact nature of the relationship is itself to a great extent a matter of guesswork* the existence of a cognate text only creates additional problems. bmall wonder therefore that every student of Horis von Cgaggl* whatever direction he chooses for his approach* soon finds himself groping his way through a mass of conjecture in which no two paths coincide. i*ven to the single eye it does not present a consistent and unvarying aspect * but changes colour when viewed from different angles* as though possessed of some elusive iridescence of its own. 1. A. da Montaiglon and 0. iiaynaud, *ecuell g<3nje deutaoha Diohtung 1m Mittelaltar (Stutt­ gart 1922), p. 267. 5. H. ds Boor, loo, clt#a pp. 145f. 6. G. Hooenhagen, "Deutsches und Br&nsdslsches in der ahd. Htoa^MoriZpVon^ra^» (Pe^ jgqha Viertel jahraaohrlXt 5A the attitude shared by all who have had occasion to study the text and to pass final judgement on it* Nevertheless, though all are agreed that it stands quite alone in medieval German literature « the how and the why of its singularity are rather harder to account for. Up to a point , of course, they defy explanation. The enigma remains an eni&&a, let the investigator do what he will. Nor oan one hope to solve the problem by interpreting an isolated achievement in isolation. Only when it is placed in a wider setting can it be seen in its true perspective, and this is especially necessary when dealing with a work like Morlz von Crafln in which not merely different creative impulses9 but ► different national traditions meet and mingle. All the way through the poem we are oonsoloue of a dash between two conflicting temperaments9 the one superimposed on the other. The great masters of courtly literature in Germany, who were likewise working from foreign sources, dom­ inated their borrowed material so completely that they could re-mould it at will to suit their own ends. The author of Moris von Crafln has not succeeded in attaining anything like so complete or so harmonious a fusion, and here the two + trends of outlook continue to exist side by side, never wholly reconciled and often direotly at variance with each 6other* This fact goes some way to account for certain baelo inconsistencies apparent in the work, such as the curious unevenness of mood and tempo, which ranges from the leisurely, serious,^refleotive tone of the historical intro* auction or the discourse on love to the rollicking pace and lively visual realism of the later scenes* Sometimes, we feel, the approaoh is quintessentlally German; elsewhere both the spirit and even the actual wording of the original French source can be sensed so olose beneath the surfaee that only a slight effort is needed to uncover them* Small won* der, then, that loris von Crafln should strike an alien note in German literature when its affinities lie in so many res* * peota outside Germany* But apart from this strong French element, there is an* other equally important reason why the poem refuses to fit into any of the accepted categories of Middle High German lit­ erature; it is the work of a poet who was himself, to use de Boorfa expression, an "Kln&elgftnger”, and fundamentally untypical of his kind# Though born into the chivalric age, though doubtless acquainted with chivalric culture at first hand, though passionately interested in everything that per* talned to the knightly way of life, its evolution, its articles of faith, its moral implications, he gives the impression of being altogether out of touch with hie own times9 partly because he lags so far behind his conteaporaries9 partly be­ cause he is already so far ahead of them* More than once this paradox has been remarked by the critics* K.M. Meyer calls the poen "eins der Altesten und doch modemer anmutend als irgend ein anderes",1 0. Baeseoke uses very similar words when he says that Moris von Qratin is "sugleich archalscher o und modemer als Heinhart Fuchs*** H* Schneider sums the mat­ ter up when he statesi "uns scheint Moris von Cradn ... swei Oesicbter su haben9 nach vorwArts »u blicksn und naoh rflckwArtB,,•^ In some ways the poet undeniably does look backward to the pre-courtly period* Hie literary tastes are somewhat antiquated, and though he may well have encountered the writ­ ings of tha leading authors of his own day, all his allu­ sions are drawn from works which belong to the previous gen­ eration - the Kaiaerohronlk. the tale of Troy, the tale of Alexander, the legend of at. Brandan, the poems of Heinrich 1* H.M. Meyer, op. oit** p* 310. 2* 0* Baesecke, "Heinrich der Ollohesaere” (ZfdPh*, 52, 1927, pp. 15ff)• P. 17. 3* H. ochnalder, H.ldendlohtuflg^ iUtf rdlohtung (Held*lb*rg 1943). P. 273. 8▼on Veldeke. Arthurian romance does not seem to exist as far as he is concerned; for him the history of chivalry stops short with Charlemagne and his paladins. His view of chivalric ethics too9 however far it may have corresponded to real life, is considerably less sophisticated than that embodied in the fashionable literature of the time. Honour is for him not so much the quixotry of the knight-errant as a masculine pride which, in individuals and nations alike, finds its fullest expression in military conquest. Love is an affair of mutual obligation in which the claims of the man must if necessary take precedence over those of the woman, as the countess is at length forced to admiti ich w&nde dan d*r «trtt / a. rehte vor golf / Ai. von lch dltwn In other ways his outlook is extraordinarily advanced. He is not the representative of a group, still less the spokes­ man of society at large. On the contrary he ie, like his hero, very conscious of his own individuality and, Ilk# his hero, he ie prepared to aesert his frssdom to the extent of defying social convention. He approaches the doctrines of chivalry in a spirit so independent as to be almost heretical. His opinions are not simply the stylised patterns of belief imposed by the accepted creed of knighthood, they are con­ victions born of personal observation and reflection, and 9directed not only against his audience (ir suit wizzen das i te J !§ £ . 328, awer mlnnet unde oinae hftt / dem wll loh ueben A M m S&s. 341f • i l.cfe aflhta. lu vl^ l ajfee ca&gn 359* etc.), but against himself (dec wgnde ouch ich d lch wiate / dag das aj&t TOl 312f., dag eex.be. BPxlche lch an aloh 397). This honesty of vision prevents him from retreating into that Never*-Never~ijand of romantic illusion where ao many of his contemporaries sought refuge from the harsh world of facts* Above allt it compels him to recognise that in ehivalric life theory and practice do not9 and cannotf go hand in hand. Though the principles of knighthood still claim his unconditional allegiance as ideals9 he sees clearly their dangers and shortcomings when they are brought down to the level of everyday reality with all its limitations and imperfections* Indeed in a sense the whole purpose of the poem is to show how the gulf between the relativity of huioaa conduct and the absolutism of ehivalric aspiration creates a tension which is fraught with possibilities of disaster even for those who might be forgiven for regarding their virtue as unassailable* Looking back after the event we can aee how prophetic his insight was. Because of this very inability to cone to terras with reality, ohivalric culture carried within itself the seeds of its own destruction. But at the timev inev­ itably , the message went unheard. The early thirteenth cen­ tury disliked and mistrusted the individualistf the “binael- gftn&er”, in literature as in life, and the work together with its author was relegated to obscurity. Only at the very close of the Kiddle ages did it come in some way to the notice of a man who was himself to a quite unique degree caught up in the conflict between the absolute values of med­ ieval thought and the relative values of the modem world, and in the mind of Maximilian I it found at last an appre­ ciative echo - so much so that he had it given pride of place in a major anthology of literary documents. Vie today regard it with rather different eyes. Ques­ tions which still retained some of their urgency for the early sixteenth century have now become remote and academic. vre are no longer, like Maximilian, poised between the two worlds of thought which in Moriz von Cratin are already begin­ ning to contend for mastery \ and though the ooem turns on a moral issue which is still a basic factor in any interpre­ tation of human society - in essence, the perennial oonfllct between the disruptive force of free self-determination and the centralising force of collective persuasion - it is an issue no longer relevant for us in this particular form* But if the modern reader sees the work from a greater dis­ tance and with a greater detachment, he doeB not find it any the less attractive on that account, and the reasons for its attractiveness arc still precisely those which caused it to be neglected in its own day,* In the first place, there is its very complexity and slusiveness* It has passed through so many stages of de­ velopment! it has absorbed so many disparate elements9 It has been moulded by such varying mentalities, that within its small compass it is a positive bundle of contradictions* People in the Kiddle Ages were on the whole repelled by what was oonfu lng and ambiguous. As they admired single-minded— ness9 harmony of purpose 9 stability9 constancy9 everything implied in the term ataete* so they had a horror of zwlvel* the divided mind9 the magpie black and white denounced by 1* Xngeborg Bubs, in her study of one of the French romans dVa^eotur. (Qnlaran do Bretagq.. Bern 1949, pp. 171f.) expresses this idea in words which might with equal truth be applied to Morig von i-raflni "Die fttr das Mittelalter •. • ungewohnte po/ chologi8oVie Motivlerung und Kelati- vlerung dieses psychologischen Homans, welcht mdglicher- weise dsm mittolalterlichen Leser, der die Absolutheit sucht, missfiel, hinterlAsst beim modernen Leser einen unausldsohlichen Bindruok.H Wolfram von fcechenbach in the well-known opening lines of ^araival* It ie therefore hardly surprising that they re­ jected a work like Moris von Cratin which is, to use Wolfram1* Image, so parrieret that it too might almost be said to possess a split personality. For us, on the other hand, there is a powerful fascination in literary riddles of this kind| like the psychological pussies which the modern age also finds so enthralling, they may yield up some part of their mystery to scientific analysis or intuitive speculation, but their final solution remains for ever tantallslngly out of reach. In the second plaoe, Moris von Cradn givee the impression of being extraordinarily true to life. Judged by the stand­ ards of its own day, this likewise was a defect rather than a virtue. The writer of ehivalric fiction oould inspire and educate hie hearers by portraying things as he felt they ought to be, or he could provide entertainment and eseape by portraying things as his audience would like them to be| but there was neither pleasure nor profit to be derived from portraying things as they actually were* For Maximilian also, we may guess, this type of accuracy would be no more than a secondary consideration. It enabled the moral drama to be played out against a more solidly convincing background of fact and sentiment. Doubtless it afforded him in addition ia • certain nostalgic pleasure by the picturesque manner in which it evoked, the atmosphere of chivalry as it had been in its splendid heyday three centuries earlier. But there is no reason to euppoae that he regarded truthfulness to life as particularly significant or desirable in itself. We for our part welcome with eagerness any document that prealses to bring us into eleeer ee test with medieval actuality any evidence thet zaay reveal, heeever fleetlngly end inq>er- feetly, those reelltiee of cMvalric thought and feeling end action which are normally hidden from our view by a haaa of poetic romance. And aria t«V ie one of the few works of its time which possesses, in both the outward and the insard sense of thet mush-disputed term, the quality of realism. Superficially speaking, it ie realistie by virtue of Its wealth of concrete detail. over and over again our attention ie caught by some illuminating turn of phrase, bob* graphle touch of description, soma arresting image, some quirk of humour or irony, whloh affords us e sudden flesh of insight into the life and manners of the time. In addition - a mush rarer trait » it displays whet one might call an Inner realism of thought. '2here la no soften­ ing or evading of the issues. '.be action proceeds with a rational logic of cause and effect. The characters are placed squarely before the choice on which their fate de­ pends, and their changing mao t ion a - longing, joy, excitement, hesitation, pride, anger, regret - are not suggested in sons oblique or formalised maunor, but set down plainly and dir­ ectly. Only on ground where the analysis of sentiment had already been reduced to a set of stereotyped formulae, as in the hero's monologue on love, do we hear the accents of fashionable convention rather than the accents of immediate truth* It is this psychological candour which strikes the modern reader as so startlingly unmedieval. In Maximilian's day the poem was "modern" by the nature of the theme; for us its modernity lies rather in the poet's attitude to his theme. For all his anonymity he remains unmistakably a person, speaking in his own name and of his own free will* On the highest plane of genius this personal approach is inevitable| men like Wolfram or Gottfried could not, even if they wished to, submerge their individuality in the common outlook. But here, as nowhere else in the literature of the courtly period in Germany, we are aware of a voice from the lower levels, one might almost say from the rank and file, of chivalry disclosing the private reactions of one man to the problems of knighthood - not a poet of command­ ing stature, not a profound thinker, not oven a particularly talented literary artist, but a man with a standpoint of his own and the will to express it. This is the quality which above all others gives the poem its peculiar appeal today and endows it with a charm that goes beyond the intellectual fascination of the riddle. It is, as R.M. Meyer truly says, Mein Gedioht, das wohl Jedem seiner Leser lieb und interessant geworden 1st"* - a poem which engages not only the interest but also the affection of all who make it© ac­ quaintance* The following study does not claim to be an exhaustive discussion of Moriz von Cratin. It merely seeks to determine more accurately the proper place of the text in Kiddle High German literature by considering in detail two particular aspects of the problem. On the one hand it is an attempt to unravel and identify the different strands that compose the fabric of the work, and so to reduce the jumble of discrepancies and contradic­ tions to some recognisable order of design. Or, to use the metaphor of another critic, it is “Gin Versuch, das ffeben- einander wlderspruchsvoller Zflge, gleiehsam durcheinander 1* R*M. Meyer, op. cit.* p* 324 rauscht-ntier Sprachkiange, In ein Hacheinander kl&r veruehm- licher Btiiamen auseinander z\x hdren” With this object in view* an endeavour lias been made to trace the progressive expansion of the subject-matter through the various layers of additional material that have gathered round the original core of substance; and further, to disentangle and as far as possible to explain, the diversities of form and style, aim and treatment, feeling and spirit, which mark the suc­ cessive stages in the process of amplification* In the main, this resolves itself into the question ofdistinguishing the French substratum from the German accretions, and in order to get a clearer picture of the source, the poem has been brought Into much closer comparison with the correspond­ ing literature of /ranee than has hitherto been the case# But it must al:-» oonsriiat reluctantly, agrees to do this (875-590)1 ate aeoopts oris formally as her ohosen knight* i*ogueoting hia as a final proof of hia love to orgeniae for her a tournament in whioh he will take part as her champion end promising hia her favours as the pries of valour (591-603), noria oonssats joyfully sad tbs oountess seals tie with e ring, s kiss and an srtbreee (604-690) At once proparatlone for the tourosaeat ere begun. Marls sends out aeessngers far and wide to proeUdm the ness (621-684). and hlneelf eomalesione a costly and elaborate machine for the ooeasion. consisting of e ship on wheels. drawn by horses oonoealod under hangings of scarlet oloth and manned by a errs of liveried "sailors" (627-696). When the appointed day draws near, oris eterke with all his sgplgtaent. and the ohlp-csr sets out aoroae the oountryaide followed by a crowd of admiring epoetatore (697-764). Ilia arrival before the oounteas* castle causes an oven greater sensation (755-761)• He "drops anchor" in a meadow and sets up a superb tent in which he offers lavish hospitality to all comers9 especially to the minstrels who have flocked to see the show (762-810). In the morning the knights who are to participate in the tourney assemble at the tent and* after hearing Mass, are entertained to breakfast (811-821)• when they have all dispersed to arm themselves9 Moris like­ wise snatches a few moments of leisure to put on his body- armour (822-848). That done9 he takes up his position on the deok of the ship9 orders his best charger to be brought on board9 the eight reserve horses being stationed on a near-by hillockf and has ths ship steered to the foot of the castle wall9 so that his exploits can bs personally witnessed by the countess who is watching from a turret window in a state of extreme pleasure and excitement (849-890). Here Moris takes up his final stance 9 and the tournament starts with a preliminary contest in which the countese' husband has the misfortune to kill a knight accidentally in ths press Of ths mills (891-906). At ones the count retiree from ths field in great distress (907*917)» but Moris9 contrary to the normal rules of knightly etiquette9 insists that the tournament shall continue regardless of this misadventure9 and the other knights eagerly assent (918-934)* The combat is resumed with greater seat than before 9 and Morls9 who up till now has been merely an onlooker, prepares for a spec­ tacular entrance into the fray (935-962). When all ie ready he chargee into the thickest of the fighting, unhorses ten opponents in rapid succession, breaks a prodigious quan­ tity of lances, performs various gestures of generosity, and is acclaimed on all hands as the hero of the day (983-1024 )• After the tourney has come to an end Moris retires to hie tent and prepares to distribute largesse (1025-1039)• The ship itself is broken up and shared out among the squires and attendants (1040-1060). noris gives away his hauberk to a captive knight and triee to give away hie ohausees as well (1061-73)* Hs has just unbuckled one of the ohaussee when a messenger arrives from the countess to summon him to the tryst (1074-1091). Us accompanies the messenger to a garden where he is welcomed by a walting-woman and eeoorted to a richly adorned bower in which stands a magnificent bed (1092-1172). Moris and the iuncfrouwe converse together for a time, and the latter explains that the lady ie delayed in coming beoauee her husband is still too prostrate with grief over hie mishap in the tournament for her to be able to leave his aids (1173-1212). Moris, angry that the lady should oonsider her husband's Interests before those at her lover* vexed by the delay and fatigued by hie exertions, at length falls asleep, trusting to the promise of the walting-woman to wate him In time when the countess arrives (1215-1253)# However* the countess steals upon them so quickly and si­ lently that there is no time to rouse him* and he is accord­ ingly discovered by the lady asleep at the rendez-vous (1254-1263). A long dialogue ensues between the oountess and the dunofrouwe over the body of the sleeping knight* in which the countess indignantly repudiates first the claims of Moris himself and then the claims of love in general* while the walting-woman pleads the knight's cause in vain with every argument at her command (1264-1383)# In the end the lady departs* leaving the waiting-woman very troubled and anxious (1384-1393)# Eventually Moris wakes from a dream of ominous foreboding and learns from the junofrouwe what has happened (1394-1439)# He sends her to intercede for him once again with her mistress* and once again the countess remains implaoable (1440-1510) • When the .luncfrouwe reports the failure of her mission* Moris* now desperate with anger and disappointment* resolvee to hear from the oountees' own lips what his crime has been* and mates his way Into the bedroom where she and her husband are lying asleep (1511-1529)# As he advances towards the bed* the mail which he is still wearing on one leg clangs on the floor and wakens the count who* seeing this grim apparition before him* still covered with the blood and dust of combat* takes Moris for a ghost and is paralysed with fright (1530- 1568)♦ Moris, seising his opportunity, declares that he is in truth the ghost of the knight slain in the tournament, now condemned to burn in hell and come to fetch away hie murderer to a similar doom, whereupon the count in a trans­ port of terror leaps out of bed, falls headlong and knocks himself unconscious (1569-1580)• Moris takes his place in the bed beside the countess (1581-1587)» who, helpless with shock and consternation, judgea it best to appease her wrathful lover and yields to hia of her own volition the favours which before she had so haughtily refused (1588-1619)• As soon as the knight has had his will of her he rises, re­ turns to her the ring she had given him, formally cancels the bond between them, and contemptuously takes leavs of her, swearing never to forgive her disloyalty (1620-1637)* He then resumes his victorious oareer while she is left lamenting her foollah unkindness (1638-1678)• One spring morning, unable to sleep for grief, she rises early and goes to her window where she stands looking out into the garden and once more bewailing her folly (1679­ 1725)* 1'he waiting-woman, who overhears her complaint, points out to her that she is now suffering the fate of all who neglect good counsel and show themselves over-proud in love# The countess herself admits that she is justly punished for her fault, and she rings down the ourt&in with a last exhortation to all lovers to take warning by her fall and beware lest they become guilty of a like offence (1726-1776)* A few line© (1777-1784) in whioh the poet expresses conventional regret for the inadequacy of hie skill, bring the work to a conclusion* I. THE FttEHCH 30UHCB 1. "0 dormiglioeo, forte addormentato, Q ik non eia axoante per donna aoquistare •••" **01 ama donna nuf baeoia a durmlre • ••* Every literary creation presumably has its first source in a single fruitful impulse from which all the rest derives its being. In many instances this original gen of inspira­ tion is obscured from view by the subsequent complexities of thought and imagination and association which it has en­ gendered. In norlz von Cratin. however, it can still be clearly traoed. As the outer layers of accretion are stripped away one by one it becomes increasingly apparent tbat there is a certain focal point which forms, as it wsre, a centre of equilibrium for the whole work and provides it, despite the many digressions and interpolations, with a measure of stability and cohesion. What lies at the heart of the poem is neither an incident nor a character but a situation, al­ most one might say a tableau - the man surprised by ths woman asleep at the appointed place and hour of tryst. This Is the moment of crisis to which everything else is in the last resort related; all the previous events lead upward towards it, all the subsequent events lead downward away from It* And we are surely justified in as sum it that it was in fact the starting-point of the theme, the foundation on which all the later edifice of subject-matter has been built up* It is a motif which offers almost unlimited opportu­ nities to the story-teller* It can be presented in any social context from the court to the gutter* It can be east in many different narrative forms - romance, foUe-tale, ballad, even the chronigue scaadaleuse - and in many dif­ ferent moods from tragedy to the most ribald farce* It offers scope for an unussually wide range of psychological motivation in tha two persons chiefly concerned* The fateful sleep for instance - where it is induced by natural means and not by some charm or magic potion - can be the result of lasiness, boorishness, indifference, a sleeping- draught, or mere physical fatigue* The reaction of the woman can take the form of delight or reeentment, disappoint­ ment or relief, triumph or scorn* In the same way the counter-reaction of the man on waking can be shame, or remorse, or anger, or despair, or defiance, or unconcern* Indeed almost the whole gamut of emotion is needed to cover all the possible versions of the situation* Furthermore it is a state of affairs which cannot exist in isolation* 28 It demands both a prelude and a sequelj that is, it must follow on from something that has occurred in the past and it must also bring in its train certain consequences for the future. It can therefore serve as a very promising inauguration for a plot# And in addition to all these po­ tentialities both for character portrayal and for epic in­ vention it has the advantage of capturing one of the most dramatic predicaments in human life - the tension of mingled love and hostility between a maun and a woman# In view of all this it is not surprising that the motif is one of permanent and world-wide popularity* ^ No two versions are exactly alike, but broadly speaking they resolve themselves into two basic types, which occasionally combine to produce a third# these three types, of course, are not sharply differentiated and continue to exist side by aide with & good deal of overlapping and interdependence• All three are at home in every place and epoch and there is no lack of evidence to prove that all three were in fact Cf. Stith Thompson, flqtlj jftflox 1 ^rafetfg. (revised edition, Copenhagen 1955-58), Vol. IX, Type D 1972s Aarne-Thompeon, Types of the Polk-Tale (Helsinki 1928), Type 400; Victor Oi s avin, Biblloflrwft^ d.gg ouvruii arabes ou relative a m arrtii (hl>ge, 18 ; -1fsrtr-tTft Chavannea, Fable,? et contea de 1’' ;e (Aotea du XIV# congrls international dea orientalI?tea, Paris 1906), III, pp. 294f «, No. 492. 922), 29 well-known In the Middle Ages* It is quite useless to speoulate about the ultimate provenance of these medieval versions* They may, like so many of the tales current in the medieval world, have been derived from Oriental sources, they may have evolved out of national or local tradition, they may have been reinforced by events drawn from real life, or they may - which is perhaps most likely - simply belong to that floating mass of universal and perennial themes which then as now was every man's and no man's property* In the first type - perhaps the moat archaic of the three - the attentions of the man are for one reason or an­ other unwelcome, and the woman takes measures to protect herself by causing him to fall asleep* When he awakes he finds to his anger and chagrin that it is too late and that he has been foiled of his purpose* The earliest versions of the theme make the sleep . into an enchanted slumber brought about by a spell or sons object with magic properties* A good example in point is the British ballad "The Broomfield Hill"** Here the girl lays a wager of five hundred pounds with ths man that she will go and meet him on "ths broonfield hill" and return 1* F*J» Child, Ths igfo *nd Scottiffi (Boston 1882-1896), Ho* 4?f* 8lx full isxts and part of an American version ars published* 30 home again a maid. She comes secretly in advance to the place appointed for the rendes-vous and casts a charm over it by scattering bro oaf lovers or twigs of broom over the ground where he will lay his head, by putting a “broomstick under his heidM, and so forth. When her lover has fallen asleep ehe comes again to the spot, leaves some token with him (e.g* puts a ring on his finger) as a proof that she has been there, and then goes away again. Meanwhile the man9e attendants - his servants and even his horse and his hawk and hounds - try to waken him, but in vain. When at last he awakes after dreams of sinister foreboding he re­ proaches them bitterly until they protest that they did their beet to rouse him. lie then turns even more wrut - fully against the lady.1 ohe on the other hand exults over u&jaisgjB-/. ft*. m. msxxy. mou a'.. / .Since ;o. itSES. .an' la gone7' 'If I'd boon, awakened v.ou 1 waa auiaep, 7 TUft WUllfLO- b a r . J i m H . / Itgadgj have verl^&u^dt) pft vt-VJ ‘text, dayZ ai... tr^ jdfia her doon^• ' j-Jj-'U .qlflgB ,49.1ft JR . / AlV M S&LF'SIS..JdL-ltAS. If Jffijil bs.a.ft .^WaKsBgd . wfrep y* ,mq. / Aflw. taws. *uimiiar passages occur In another version In Horry— ckstorm-3myth, aellmds from Haiaa (Saw U m n 192' pp. 4?6-42, and in the Journal of the gQlfr^ tPflg and nanca ^oclaty. Vol. 27, pp. 31ff. the success of her ruse, for she has both saved her honour and won the wager* This ballad appears to go back at least to the six­ teenth century* in the British Isles and parallels to it 2 can be found in folk-tale and folk-aong all over the world* A more modern rationalised form of the story occurs, for example, in a folk-ballad of very widespread currency in Italy* This song tells how a girl meets a cavalier at the fountain who promises her a large sum of money if she will allow him to share her bed for one night* When the moment comes the girl’s mother gives him a drugged potion % of some kind so that he sleeps soundly all night long# In 1* There is a song with the refrain "Broome, broom on hill" in The Conalarat of 3cotland, dating fro* the year 1549* 2* Child, In his Introduction to "The Broomfield Hill", quotes numerous versions of the tale in which different kinds of sleepy charms are used - in Iceland a "sleep- thorn", in Sweden and Denmark 1 sleep-runes" and so on* 3. In "L'Apante delaao" (B. Bolza, gMMMftL jagg*8** 8p~ aaohe. Sitcungsborichte Vien, phil* hist. Klasee 53 , — c71t.) it is a sleeping-draught; ia "La (Anna Paeetti, 1 front ino* Studi romansi 18 (1926). 24f.T ffT* a "bevauda" J in "Ia bavanda aottuifera" (P. Villani, .oa^ glo d 1 coqU go r a c c o l t l T * , a m j L J 3 Art,, Anauario DalmatlooS (WO), ilo, 3, pp. 89f.) the foreetiero" is put to sleep by moans of a "medizina". In "II uavaliere ; (Giovanni Giannini, Cantl poaolarAul3gU« luoohese. Torino 1889, r/o. 9, pp. 157-153) the girl** mother, prosaically enough, puts opium in his coffee# «u* sI 9 V flate. fiaaste"e. f.tzzoli nc BO, Iil.PP. the morning he Is forced to admit that he has been out­ witted and pays up ruefully - C’.ufla mano si spa^to fljj, ooohl J Con quell’ altra conta *1 dan*. The same motif figures more than once in medieval ro­ mance. In Heinrich Ton Freiberg's continuation of Gott­ fried ' s Tristan3, Kaedin is prevented from enjoying the love of Kameline by a magic pillow belonging to Isolt9 and a similar Schlafkiaaen is also introduced by Bilhart von Jberg in the corresponding episode from hie TMdl iaalSl*2 In the rtoman de Dolopathoe3 the unwelcome lower is oharmed into sleep by a magic feather placed under the pillow, and in the Uesta Komanorun* by a magic letter con­ cealed between the sheet and the coverlet. But though they may differ in detail, all the tales of the group agree la making the woman resort to some external - usually super­ natural - expedient, in order to avoid having to beetow her favours on the man. 1* Bd. A. Bernt (Halle 1906), 4861-4960. 2• Hd. F. Lichtenstein (Strassburg 1877), 6672ff. 3# Ld. C. Brunet and A. Montaiglon (Paris 1896), Fourth Tale, 7096ff. 4. Sd. 8. Herrtage for the Larly English Text Society (London 1879), Tale XL. In the second type the situation is reversed, Ths man is invited, or at least admitted, to the presence of the woman* She is aoquiesoent - sometimes more than acquiescent — and if he falls to take advantage of his opportunity it is not because he has been drugged or thrown into a magic slum­ ber 9 but because he is tired or lasy or boorish, or even be­ cause he has had the misfortune to oversleep and arrives at length to find the door barred against him* This type of tale is manifestly coarser in tone than the first* Such medieval versions as have survived date from the latter part of the Middle Ages* No doubt anecdotes of a lusty nature were relished by audiences of high degree as well as low, even during the peak period of chivalric cul­ ture, but they would tend to circulate in a fugitive and sub- literary fom* In the charmed world of courtly romance they would be totally out of place* They are the product of a more down to earth outlook, which sees the relationship of the sexes not as a source of ideal poetle and moral re­ finement, but as a natural target for broad or cynical jesting* Both the man and the woman are shown up in a rather unsympathetic light* If ths woman is made indignant because her lover has failed to come up to her expectations, she is pilloried as that stock figure of ribald farce, the insatiable man-chaser* If she ie willing, even eager, to bestow her favours and the man is too inert or indifferent to profit from the occasion, she is exposed to ridicule in another fashion. If, on the other hand, she permits herself to exult over hie discomfiture, or to upbraid him to hie faoe with hie laok of savoir-faire, her insubordination ie liable to receive a sharp reproof, her lover sometimes exacting from her a promise that in future she will show herself properly submissive. All this gives scope for anti-feminist satire or raillery of an all-too-familiar kind, though it must be admitted that the rdle of half-hearted gallant la almost equally undignified. Variants of this tale exist all over itaxope, but here we are concerned with two branches of the tradition only, the Gallic and the Oermanio. Among the many French themes baaed on the motif known aa "1*Occasion M&nqude" there ie one which might be said to take aa its text the word. ffial, aaora de vllalfi, / t m eat anriormia.1 it la found, for instance, in a folk-song "I* tfalant bndooal". of which sereral versions have been collected. This song describee how the lover is invited to come to his sweethearts room at night, but either fails to U L^elpi»ig0187M tfI ^ <>33>C19faQalU:Ut*a U*Xi PaBt°Urellen appear at the promised hour because he has overslept# or else falls asleep at the rendezvous itself. Here the woman takes the initiative throughout. It is she who pro­ poses the tryst, and it is she who taunts the sluggard with liis failure to make use of his opportunity, rejecting hie plea for a second chance s- Qu&nd tu tenais la caill' au hi6# Xu devais la plumerf Quand tu tenais la pie au aid, Xu devais la salslrl1 ▲ very similar incident, provided with an ostensible real* life setting, is related by Brantflme ia the Vlee dee dawp 2 ’ galantea. and the situation has dearly passed into the standard repertoire of piquant anecdote Xhe German form of the tale is best represented by the song H£fx,..ye.rs£h^ afeqe fflgg" *hlch likewise exists in nu- meroue versions, some of them going back as far aa the fif­ teenth century. Xhe outline of the story is common to alls 19 fBurud^Paria d^ QhajRt|? populalrti> fTM«1s 2. JBdition Gamier Frferes (Paris 1864)# p# 8 (Discours 1). 5. A. Jeanroy, *1 H M bA A flBP* jj , moven Age (3rd edn., Paris 1925)# pp. 147 and 150, note 1 quotes Italian versions of the same story# including an interesting folk-song from Leghorns tKT~ 1f|Hj I— m?|ag..jaie.,, .^nalor^^Jtn^u. m.oc:iinu t.. .mme_nao JmbSL& ’ 36 the huntsman meets a girl, and accompanies her to her hut, or sometimes eaoorts her to his own house; but no sooner is he in bed than he falls asleep and only wakes at day­ break to find that he has let his chance slip by* The girl is on the whole passive, if not actually unwilling, and she is frequently relieved at the turn which events ■y have taken - du hast dlch versehlafen. / daa hat mich gefreut - but when she allows her triumph to become too unrestrained she is taken to task in no uncertain manner — d«a JteT verdriaseea: / er wollte da* MEdohan orsouieasan. / wohl um dan eiozlga Wort2 - and sh« is foraad to beg his pardon for her hasty speech* It is interesting to note that both the French and ths German songs are most widely known and most frequently at­ tested in the border regions that divide ths two countries* With a single exception, all the French versions 1 have been able to discover come from Alsace, Pranche-Comtd or the 1* Occasionally the song is even turned into a religious eontrafactura in praise of virginity* 2, From a Lorraine version preserved in the Deutsches Volkgliedarchlv* Freiburg* 37 X French Alps;1 and although isolated vers ions of "her verachlafene J titer" have besn found in every part of the German-speaking area, including uerraan Switzerland and Austria, the overwhelming majority come from the Khineland, sides of the frontier, therefore, the tradition flourishes up to the present day, and it is precisely this same strip of territory to which, as we shall see, the provenanoe of Moris von Cretin - the French original no less than the is, at the least, remarkable and may well be significant. it is also Interesting that, although all the modern versions of "Per verachlafene Jtger" place the story in a rustic setting, two early how German texts seem to hint that at one time the action was laid in a more aristocratic world. The huntsman is & knight i- de l'bictoire de Montbollard" (*tcvue d*Alaaoe. 1875* pp. 2 A 9 t t.): J. ^anteloubs, loo, clt. (a tert fro. r ranche-Comti) t J. Tleraot, j?opulal,roB d^a Alpns r'raucaIsea (Orenoble-Moutlero, 1903)* p. 27f| vhe sole exception comes from Anjou, published by F. UVi.M.An. 11 a 4 v**b a 4. 1 t Am 4/m* f Aiimvn■ 1 OCX \ . horraine, how Germany, Holland and * landers.^ On both German translation - is to be assigned* The coincidence xruiu "Htiipnaiia, w iuhq jl i wiii w w w *3 nuau a r o a o , from Holland, eight from Alsace, twenty-nine from Lorraine and thirty-four from the Hhlneland. Min Hdrken wil ick laten hangan, Den bidder, den Jeger, to-Bchandsn, Dat he de Tit verschlep; - who persuades the girl to accompany him to his castlet~ Als he ten hogen borge quamf (Het was sen edel man)f hogs dede hi hem setten, Ben bedde dede hi hem2deeken» Die slaps hem verwan. The third type is a combination of the other two* re- ©©tabling the first in that it is the woman who comes to the mani rather than Tice versat and the second - especially the French form of the tradition - in that she is prepared to grant him her lore; the man falls asleep while waiting for her arrival and she, finding him sleepingf departs sadly, angrily or reproachfully. It is clearly to this type that M«rln von CrwHn belongs. The subject is likewise found in popular legend all « over the world. one very widespread example of it is the motif of the "Bwelmal/drelmal versohlafenes Stelldlchein”, which seems to be of Bastern origin. Two typical Oriental 1. 2. 5. Uhland's version, dated by him about 1600, and published in the Alta hoohj^^lederdentache VpAjtslledgE, IX, No. 104. (Ghent 1848),J.F. Willems, No. 61, p. 160, g t t & quote numerous instances from Europe and Asia. versions relate how the hero, accompanied by & friend, comes to a villa in a garden, where they find a room with a costly bed, beside which stands a candelabrum; the prince, left alone, waits for the princess who is overlong in coming, so that at length he falls asleep; in due course the princess arrives, leaves a token to show that she has been there and departs again* The same thing happens on the second night, but on the third the prince manages to stay awake# Like many other tales of ths Orisnt, this theme also 2 belonged to the narrative stock-in-trade of medieval Europe, and one particular European version la of special interest in this connexion - the Melateraesanm "Der Ritter von Pur­ i und rnit den Hirsen", composed by Hans Sachs on September 12th, 1552*' it tslls how a knight out hunting pursues a stag, which eventually turns into a princess who has been bewitched by her wicked mother* She appoints a meeting with him for a year later, warning him, on pain of conse­ quences disastrous to both, against falling asleep at ths 1# aeltschrift des Vermina:jftlr Volksicun.de. Vol. 15, pp. 325#f*V and Vol. lfl, pp. l£8rfT;the two tales, one Kurdish, the other Kaehmlri, agree very closely# 2# Cf. B* Barth, Pie be aid bhc? im altfranzbaiachen Pablel und in der mhd* Jjovelle (Palaestra, 9r, Berlin 1910),p# njr 3# The text ie published in full by Bolte-Pollvka, 3 oc* olt., pp. 34Iff. tryst. A widow, wishing to marry her daughter to the knight• gives hie false squire a aehlafnadel to stiok in his master's mantle, so that he falls into a slumber from which the princess cannot rouse him* He is summoned a second night and onoe more the squire casts a eleep-eharm ewer him* On the third night the same thing happens jet again* The girl is bitterly grieved and disappointed, kisses the sleeping man, hangs three gold chains about his neck and flees in her stag-shape. After a time the knight wakes and swoons when the squire tells him what has hap­ pened * He resolves to retire to the woods, in order to live the life of a solitary penitent, but is at last res­ cued and taken to Paris* There he hears of a tournament which is being proclaimed throughout Prance. For three days in succession he distinguishes himself in the joust, and finds that the maiden whose hand ie being offered aa the prise is the princess of the forest, now restored to human shape* They marry and live happily ever after* Tills extremely interesting tale combines features from all three of the foregoing types* It shares with Type I the motif of the aleep-eharm, though here not used by the woman herself, but by an external agency hostile to the lovermi with Type II (especially the German tradition ) the figure of the huntsman-knight in the rdle of hero; with Type III the faot that the man comes first to the rendes-vous and 41 ^ falls asleep while waiting for the lady, and that she is compelled in consequence to deny him her love, if not for ever, at least till the offenoe has been fully expiated* We may also note that the action is located in France (Burgundy and Baris) and set in a ehivalric milieu; the hero Is "ein rltter ... / Plorena aeuannt. k*p adelloh und wol gestalt", and the plot includes a typical tournament episode - "in a^ntaanj-'jhyniKtuab / Franckreich ai> sruaffet man alnen turnlere" - in whioh he inevitably carries off the prise. In view of all this it is at least likely that liana Bachs was using as his source not a native pern*lar tra­ dition, but a lost romance or Novella. based on the motif 1Y o f the verachlafenes Stelldlchein and derived in its turn 1 2from a French original which has likewise perished* Yet in spite of this double resemblance, the charming fairy-tale of the Burgundian knight differs essentially from fijgrir, Ton i;raun in that it poses no problem. The hero*a 1* The supernatural elements in the plot suggest that thia French tale may have been akin to the ial rather than conte or fabliau. 2* Cf. Bolte-Polivka, loc. clt.. p. 346s "Wenn auseerdem als Bchauplfttse der H&ndlung Burgund und Paris genannt warden, und der Hitter ... Florens helest, so sprioht dies dafttr, daee Hans aachs hisr nioht ein mttndllch Uberliefertes VolksmSrchen, sondem einen auf franad- slschen Vorbildern beruhenden Hitter-roman beuut&te*". 42 •leap la Involuntary, brou^t about by means of which he la unaware and which lie in any case outside his control* Ho moral issue la involved and the crisis is therefore up to a point arbitrary and artificial. Though the element of magic la not unknown in courtly romance, the situation be­ comes much more dramatic when the misdemeanour, as In Mori a von Cratin. la motivated by purely human factors* Kven judged by normal standards, the lover who falls asleep while waiting for his beloved betrays a lack of ardour which the lady can hardly fail to take amisst- 0 doralglioso, forte addoraentato, 2 01& non sla amante per donna acquistare ••• Cl ama donna nu9 bascla a durmlre ***5 When - in theory at least - love is systematized Into a code of thought and behaviour, directed towards certain prescribed ethical ideals, the point is immeasurably sharp­ ened. In this casuistry of love, such an offence acquires precise implications as an example of blameworthy conduct* Moreover, not only is it a foxmal infringement of the rules 1. A. UlokBon, y^ e nUflB and.UraoR (H.Y. 1929), P. 94, note 78, states that in the Grail romances the hero falls asleep more than once at crucial moments and so forfeits the lady9s love. 2* From a fourteenth century Italian song, quoted by Jeanroy, op. olt.. p# 147# 3* From a modern Italian folk-song, quoted by Jeanroy, ibid, (See above, p# 35, note3)« of courtesy and hence an outward sign of disloyalty, but it also has symbolleal force as a mark of inner unworthiness* For wakefulness, like changing colour frequently or loss of appetite or falling dumb in the presence of the beloved, has always been accepted as one of the symptoms of true cession* This notion is found already in Ovid** It forms part 2 of the highly-wrought Arabic doctrines of love* And in the courtly love literature of medieval Kurope also it be­ comes an established convention* ^ Nevertheless, in -lorlf von Oratin it is more than a convention - it is the crux of the whole matter. The hero has been guilty of a breach of the code of love and eo is denied the reward of his ser­ vice* At the same time, though the lady is technically within her rights in refusing him her love, she herself is 1. See the Ara Amatoria. Bk. I, 755 and the ^ grnadla Amorla. 2051. 2 . E . g . in the * £ a t > i » a traaa. Sir Richard Burton (bondon* 1897), tb* ^le of Asia and Aslaah (Vol. 2, p* 205) i Mfor sleep Is unlawful and to a lover unduet therefore is thy love but a lie": or the Tale of K&nmakan (Vol* 2, p* 302): "Hadat thou been leal in lovefs loyalty, ne’er haddest suffered sleep to seal those eynew* For these and similar ana­ logies, eee an article by F.K* Hohroeder, "&um Marta Vol °5!m i <)54 ) th3 j T ^ 3* Among many examples one might cite Dietm&r von Diets r \ t ruowe Mt. ad iaa& lch elne .tntaT . ed.~ leu? _ _ j5^» ear's description of the Squire* ■Qgue 311.) , 32, 91 . ) i o r Cbau- e / he aleep nanore than dooth a atehtlngale 44 even more gravely at fault in that she judges by the letter of the law rather than the spirit, and she too must suffer the penalty. The idea is developed In symmetrical fashion throughout the poem. At the outset, when Morig is whole-heartedly devoted to the service of his liege-lady, he is unable to sleep; he spends his nights musing about his feelings, ejr lag ein.a nahfa ein. / und gedahte an .In. arfr.lt (424f.), or planning the exploits whioh are to be the final proof of hi. love, er hate manege lang# paht / d* vor eflofte gedahl. / wle er sin schif vertaete (1249ff.)| when, after the tourna­ ment, the countess delays hsr coming, his affections begin to flag, the sustaining power of love oeasee to operate, re­ sentment is followed by weariness, goruic und trasge (1227), and slssp quickly overpowers him, d& legets er stffl flffljltrt ... < in ir schdg und alief gehant (1245ff)» The same thing, in reverse order, applies to the countess; whsn she is in harsh and unloving mood, ah. ia impatient for-ale.p (loh vil aldfan unge fruo. 1504), but whsn love and remoree touch her heart too late, she is sleepl.ee (dd nohte ale von aorgen / geeldf.n nooh gellgan da. I698f.). For the poet of Morig von Crafln the herofs sleep was therefore the outward manifestation of a particular frame of mind and hence was significant both as a physical faot and as a moral problem. Symbolism of this kind, so typical of it8 age, was more than just a play of the fancy or of the intellect. Long after its original message has ceased to he relevant it still carries conviction, because It does not merely appeal to the imagination and satisfy the in­ stinctive craving for balanced design - it is firmly grounded in the realities of human emotion and experience. The ab­ ility to harmonise aesthetic values and psychological truth so that they enhanced and complemented each other instead of being at variance is one of the peculiar achievements of the poets of chivalry| and our text, in spite of its unpre­ tentious scale, is no unworthy representative of their skill in this respect* 2. "J'entends oe lainuit Frapper k m& ports t Si o9est un esprit, Je crieral bien fort ••• 1 Ofest la voix de mon araant • ”A moi s'il ne faut plus penser, Tu as trop fait la difficile. Maintenant c#est k mon tour; 2 Adieu, la belle, pour t ou.jours f" !• Arnest Closson, OhansoM jpopulaix-e,s dee .PMOLJatiUaMI (Brussels 1903), No* 16u. 2, Holland, op. cit* * II, p* 158. Here then is the centre of gravity of the work, the FaXke, to use Heyoe's well-known termf of this Novella* But Moris' ill-timed slumber does not only present in con­ crete form the essence of the problem9 it also provides a focus for the whole sequence of events* kvery incident, even the panorama of universal history outlined in the pro­ logue to the main story, ultimately converges on this one point* Judged by any standards, as already pointed out, the situation is a very promising one as the basis for a plot, since it must of necessity look both ways - into ths nast for its causes, into ths future for its consequences - eaeh direction offering endless possibilities for narrative in­ vention* When, however, ae in Moris von Cretin* the theme and the problem, that is, th^sxternal and the internal ac­ tion, are Indissolubly linked, invention must be subjected to the 8triot control of logic* Whereas in the fairy-tale versions ths issue is blunted by ths presence of the super­ natural element, which relieves ths actors in the drama of any genuine moral responsibility,our poem, whioh is concerned with & real-life oonfliot in a real-life setting, must mo­ tivate the fateful sleep in a rationally convincing manner* one must admit that the way in which the whole tightly-knit framework of the tale has been built up in successive stages round this single moment of crisis is a masterpiece of con­ struction* Obviously it will not do to have ths hero, who is in­ tended to be a paragon of virtue , guilty of unmannerliness or lasinese* If he falls asleep when he should not9 it oan only be from natural fatigue arising out of over-exertion which, in order to heighten the irony of his predicament and obtain the maximum dramatic tension, must be exertion imposed by the service of the lady herself and undertaken in her honour. Of all the aecepted forme of Krauendienet the most strenuous and hence the one most calculated to pro­ duce bodily exhaustion was the tournament* Thus the tour­ nament episode ie not an interlude, still less an interpola­ tion) it is an essential part of the plan*1 All this furnishes a background for the oriels* The stage ie set, the lovers are introduced, their mutual rela­ tione are explained, and the feat of homage is commissioned, devised and triumphantly oarrled out, with eaoh successive incident driving the action steadily forward towards the moment of decision* In the same way all that follows is the direot outcome of it, for the lovers must be confronted by the consequences of their choice* The knight, whoee 1* Since this whole section. Including the question of the ship on wheels, is of great intrinsic interest and sig­ nificance, detailed analysis of it ie reserved for Chapters III and IV. fault is the more excusable in that It results from excess of devotion to the lady9s service and from disappointment when the longed-for recompense of his labours is delayed , suffers only temporary reproach* The lady, whose trans­ gression is graver, in that it springs from an unregenerate heartf must receive a severer and more lasting punishment* In order to bring this about, the two protagonists must ones again be brought face to face, with their respec­ tive positions exchanged. As the oountesa comes to Moris smd repudiates him, Moris in his turn must eon# to the coun­ toss and repudiate her* so the action moves on inexorably from the crisis to the climax, namely the scene in the bed­ chamber* To this end the poet has made uee of another an­ cient and universal motif, that of the revenant who appears to the faithless beloved as she sleeps beside her new part­ ner#^ Here also the supernatural element has been ration­ alised to bring the theme into line with the purpose of the work, and here also a dramatic situation, momentary in itself, has been fitted neatly and effectively into a closely- forged chain of circumstance* 1# btith Thompson, hotlf-lndex of folk .Ulteratujqft (revised edition, Copenhagen 1955-58) under the heading "Chests and other Kevenants", especially types X* 200-211, b. 214, X* 221*3* Ths "revenant" episode, which is very cloeely connected with the account of ths tourna­ ment, Is treated in fuller detail at the end of Chapter III* At this crucial juncture the third member of the tri­ angle t the lady*8 husband9 is brought for the second time on to the scene of action. His rdle toof like that of the chief personages in the drama, has a double aspect. Ear­ lier on in the story he makes a direct contribution to the course of events when he is responsible for the death of the m unnamed knight during the preliminary skirmishing that takes place before the tournament. This misfortune, though at first sight it appears unimportant, is in fact indispensable for the development of the plot. His shame and anguish at the deed reduoe him to a prostrate condition which prevents his wife from quitting M s side until the hour appointed for the tryst is past and thus indirectly helps to preolpl- tats the catastrophe i moreover, his guilty conscience makes him peculiarly liable to suggestion, so that when Moris, taking advantage of the proffered opportunity, el&lms to be the spirit of the dead man returning to vex his slayer, the count at once falls into a stats of such blind terror that he is easily rendered harmless. In addition his func­ tion is symbolical, in that he is the natural guardian of the lady's honours only when he has been incapacitated for action can she be delivered over into the power of the hero and exposed to the retribution that is her due. The nature of her disgrace is appropriate to ths of­ fence* The favours that she refused to grant of her own free will are now demanded of her by force in humiliating fashion. Then, when she has accepted the inevitable with as good a grace as possible in the hopes of placating her injured lover, he turns on her with contempt, formally can­ cels his vows, and abandons her to her dishonour*- 1634 "MA ziuwerra manne (den 1st w6) und habet dsn An drel ich verglbe lu nlmmer radre disen lasterbaeren roup.*’ It remains to be considered how much of the foregoing may already have existed in the French source of iorig von Urafln* and how much may have been introduced or at least revised by the German poet* Unfortunately at this stage of the Intrigue riorlg von irattn and the coat* Du chevalier qul recovra IVaaog de a* daae begin to pert company for good, and we are thrown back on conjecture# As far as external happenings are concerned, the two versions agree together up to the point where the hero gives himself out as ths ghost of the dead Knight, but the underlying assumptions in each case are radically different* The French Knight does not make his way into the bedchamber in & spirit of indig­ nation and rancour, but as a contrite delinquent* Instead of sotting out to unnerve the count into panic , the fancied apparition uses his victim's fright as a moans of cajoling pardon from the lady for his offence, and she* reassured by his discretion on her behalf9 is at length prevailed upon to grant it; so the tale ends on a gay and distinctly unedify- lag note9 with the simple husband bamboozled as usual and the quick-witted gallant restored to favour* The author confines himself to a very superficial view both of the lover*s guilt and of the lady's reactions to it* In other words, the poem is not intended as a problem piece but as an amusing9 if slightly cynical, pleasantry, a conte h rire* let in spite of thie divergence, it ie unlikely that the more serious handling of the subject ie altogether the work of the German poet* The whole episode, with all that it implies, is too much an integral part of the story to have been added later as an afterthought* We may guess that the conte represents a light-hearted variation on a current theme, in which the theoretical problems involved have been greatly simplified and diluted; and that the ori­ ginal source of Moris von Cratin presented the issue in terms on the whole very similar to those of the text as we possess it* In matters of detail it is naturally quite impossible to distinguish the two strata with any degree of accuracy* 52 At most vo can say that certain linos, chiefly of a concrete descriptive nature» do appear to have been taken over from the French original* For instancef the phrase Ir eJUten an (1468f.) is, as far as 1 have been able to discover, without parallel in Oerraan, whereas It at onoe recalls stock French formulae of extra** va, ant grief 9 such as:- De larmee moillent 11 lais dl son mantel ors- Les larmes de son ouer oorrent de tel ravine. p que sea bliaus en moille et sea mantels hermine* Conversely, the lengthy dialogue - almost a disnutatio - ^ between the oountese and her waiting-woman, begun over ths body of the sleeping knight and resumed over the body of the sleeping husband9 shows signs of having besn considerably amplified by the Carman poet* The constant play on the words ashftdm (1315, 13449 1408, 1433, 1444, 1490, 1495# etc.) and schands (1305, 1387, 1470, etc*) is always a mark of his handiwork* Again, the lady's argument that it behoves women to be circumspect in love because men were deceivers 1* Bartsoh, HP I, 4, 3* 2. Ibid.* I, 59, 60f* 53 X GVer - **S* *02. &£.ninng 1st es «*ch j d«gflt y l l llhte schade ntoh (1343 t,) - occurs In almost identical words in Ulrich von Lichtenstein's ?raueqdi«n«t1st lu »e nflilT liehe gtch / dd kumt diu aftarrive ndoh.1 Indeed, the whole situation invites comparison with ths well-known passage from Frauendlenat where Ulrich, laving gained entrance to his lady's private apartments in. - hopes of the promised reward, finds that she is once again resolved to play the hard-hearted coquette. The knight pleads his cause, and the lady1® attendants join their voice with his, in language that might have been taken dir- eet from our poemt- 352,3 "Bs 1st niht ein guot wipllch muot, das si an air als tlbel tuot". 354»29 "Wle sttlende das iwerra warden namen (sich mdhte lwer werdlcheit wol schamen) ob ich von hinne filer alsd, das ich mdest lmmer sin unvrd". 358,32 "Sd hit ouch das vil werde wip ir gdete, ir dre mit air verlorn"* 362,25 HUnd schelde ich alsd von iu hie, sd getet fftr wdr ein vrowe nie an ritter wirs denne ir an mir". 372»24 "Got weis wol, das ir tlbel tuot an Ira, getar ichs gain iu geJohan". x* fcd* A: Beohatein (Ogfttsaha Klasslke.r des Mittslalter. Leipzig 1888), 565, 27f. We may therefore venture the oonolueion that in this episode the German poet derived the greater part of the subject-matter from hie French source, but that he probably extended the dialogue and the more reflective passages in order to bring out yet more clearly the underlying purpose of hie tale* 5* "’Tout© oeule pas serai le vert boscage, Pule que eoapalgnie n9al| de j’al perdu mon ami par mon outrage 1 Toute seule paeaerai le vert boaoage ##♦* After the olim&x of the narrative, culminating in tbm humiliation of the counteea, the poet roceede to drive home the leeeon with relentless candour. The hero, we are briefly told, resumes his career as a successful chevalier I oumqr eu£« Hia honour, so far from having suffered dam­ age, is graatar than ever before, and his fane spreads through all the country round about. Thereafter ths poet has no sore concern with his doings and ha vaniahas from the eoene, the rest of the poem being exclusively devoted to the fate of the lady, as ohisf culprit in the affair* 1. T . Uennrioh, tiondeaux. VireJLais und Bslladaa (Osesll- sohaft fflr rommieche Llteratur, Vol. 45. ^readen 1921 } , Vol. I, 8o. 95. The shame and remorse that are set before us in the next eighty lines are no less convincing because their mode of expression is so rigidly formalised. They reveal them­ selves in the outward appe&ranoe she presents to the world, for the spectacle of her former lover*s renown Increases her sense of loss to such a pitch that her beauty - always in the medieval view a concomitant of virtue or happiness - begins visibly to fads (1645-50). They alee pervade her inward thoughts (si gedahte ... 1651ff*) which are given explicit utterance in formulae of eelf-acousation as sharply defined as a physical gesture. The stylised oose further demands a stylised setting, and occasion, time and place are all invoked to contribute to the mood of melancholy and vain regret. It is early summer, when the beauty and bllse of dature are at their height (1679-96). Tet, though it is the season for the delights of love, the lady, by her own folly, has become an exile from all these joys. Sleep­ less with grief she rises early in the morning and goes alone to an arbour, or balcony - perhaps owerlooking ths selfsame garden in which stood th. bow.r where she was to haw. met her lower (1697-1704J.1 There ehe stands at th. 1, See below, p. 81. 56 windowi leaning her cheek on her hand, listening to the song of the nightingale (1705-13), and her ead longing vente itself aloud in a complaint even more passionate than her previous mental soliloquy (1714-25). This technique of conveying emotion ie very characteristic of msdlev&l poetry* It is as though the countess wsre being exhibited in a ser­ ies of prescribed attitudes, each one seemingly artificial, yet each eloquent with meaning by virtue of its intricate context of association* When we come to analyse these associations in detail, we find ourselves on finner ground than usual* Some Ger­ man scholars have discerned at this point a likeness to the women's songs in early rtlnneaang. especially to one or two of the Kftrenberg stanzas and to the Falkenlied of Dietn&r von hist, and on these grounds have regarded the episode as 1 an addition by the German poet* It is true that the whole tone of the passage is mark­ . _ ■ ' * . ■■ ^ • . . odly lyric in character, so that de Boor1 a verdict: "Kin in episohe Iterate Hung umgesetstes Minnelied" ie at any rate partially justified* Nevertheless, setting aside 1* h*g* 0* Kosenhagen, "Deutsches und Franzdsiaohes in der mhd. Mftre Moriz von Orafln". pp* 004 , 814# and de Boor, op, alt., pp. 148*. 57 4 line® 1671-78 (which, ae we hope to show later, may well be an interpolation on the part of the translator), and mush of the conventional phraseology of the nature description, which is common to both languages, there are in fact few portions of the poem whose French origins are more unmis­ takably apparent* For virtually every detail it is as easy to find French parallels as it is hard to find German ones, and we may conclude without hesitation that here at least the German poet was content to follow hie source ae closely am he could* To begin with, the lament of the hard-hearted mist re ae who, from pride or caprice, has thrown away the devotion of V a noble lover ie a French rather than a German motif* oxxoh rewrote are an established commonplace in the medieval love- lyric of France* Two examples will suffice for manyi- "lasse, por quo! refusal Celul qul tant m*a amde? bone tens a a mol musd JSt n’i a merol trouvde* baase, si trtfs dur cuer ail Qu’en diraif Foreenle, Plus que desvde, * Quant le refusal *M 1* Jeanroy, op* clt** "Textes", p. 499, Wo. XXI* "unques n'amal tant con je fui amde, Or m'en re ent, 8fll me petlet valoir LaeBe, por col aui je de mere ndef 1 Par mon orgueill al mon ami perdu." The theme le transmitted through the later medieval chanson* such as that quoted at the head of thie section* into folk- poetry proper* where it survives up to the present dayi— wAh! que je suis dono malhsureuse Dfavoir aiasi trop p&rldt J*avals un am ant fiddle* On amant tout k mon grd* Jfal trop fait la difficile^ A prdsent il m'a quittd*" More important from the present viewpoint is its occurrence in French courtly romance* A striking instance* for which t I know of no German equivalent* is found in h e nr- ^ where Tde on more than one occasion is made to bewail her foolish unkindness towards the hero* Parallel quotations from Sone ds Nanaav and Moris von Crafln will show how extra­ ordinarily close the resemblanoe 1st- 1 . j f c e ^ P » r l * * S 4 § a n a a l * ( B i b l * d u m o y c n 3. rid. Moritz Goldschmidt (t* Goldschmidt iMblijthek dea ll,taMEto!6iMtt lA S-tuttg&rt, CCXVl, ¥ttbin««n 1899). A1 0O > ta o X 43 4* •» • H NO © i«;i. ‘* 8 8 3 . 1 *^^4* S $ H 3 H © f fit? M H 3 MISIlllI ® «<0 Dot'S•H<0 «H© o«d <5 »t* •3 1 3 - 3 i IA\0 H \£5 VO f l •4* H 0 4»2 0 ■fti-o • • 3 <*« h***9 4> g 4* *Pt d 4* P4 TO CD © d *H * O0 4* hi a © _ © T3W © CO © HI © H H H a 5 g | a as^atls<949 .m.'OdO*H _ . fl M t4 0 & 3 © • d H H * d <-> © o tO S?4.S^4»o 84 a aJ 3 S Sli** •AlA © H I © wfm3? MtH 3 s : i 5 8 I ©© *Cjd4* ©H%4 *cf © d h 0£> ■H 4* XJ d ©I | © I * © 1A H 60 A By a simple but nonetheless effective stroke of poetie irony, these elegaic outpourings are aet against a background of Nature at its most fresh and joyous* The use of Nature as a foil to human emotion is one of the charaoteristic devices of medieval literature and it has remained a stand­ ing convention ever since* In ths courtly lyric especially, descriptions of springtime or winter are very frequently prefaced, now in harmony, now in contrast, to the reflec­ tions of the hopeful or disconsolate lover* They are not genuine examples of the pathetic fallacy, nor have they even any precise symbolical import* They are the result of a new bias towards introspsotlon, a ore- y occupation with the workings of the mind and heart, which valuee the natural world primarily because of its power to evoke certain conscious reactions in the beholder, and so to quicken or intensify ths sslf-awareness of the individual in other words, to act as a species of scenic backdrop for subjective experience*1 It is a romantic, and in the true eense of the word a "sentimental" approach, which here. For the whole question of Nature in ths literature of the courtly period see h . Schneider, pisNaturdlchtuag des deutsohen Minneffjpgff (Neue deutsche Foreehungen, IBtV dY* M l . TTKrtTn 1938), A. floret, "La Nature dans Is Mlnnesang” (Ktudes ftermanlQusn* IX, 1948, pp. 12-24), and especially V* GanssnmAller* Das Jiatui fttr Kulturgwhloht*. XII, 2, 1914, pp. I95«.TT significantly enough, is embodied In the person of s woman.1 Ths descriptions themselves tended everywhere to follow s recognised pattern, and each trait mentioned In these lines - ths singing of the birds in ths greenwood, ths young foliage, the meadows brilliant with flowers (gsmuoaet 1692 * adorned with mosaic-work), and the sense of joyous exhilaration Inspired by the rebirth of the year - could be matched a hundred times over In reverdles from either Prance or Germany. Por this reason it is Impossible to determine with any degree of accuracy how muoh should be assigned to the original source and how muoh may have beam added by the translator. . . d ' I All the w e , one or two clues can be detected* for instance, ths couplet: (lifcBh hflte figva«s».t.)..,d.»r wftjt uflfl, sahaenlu klelt / semen dam eumer an gelelt (1689f.) a 2 to be a specifically German turn of phrase, whereas ths 1. Ganxenmdller, hie enoflndsye ^aturbetrachtung ..., p* 2241 "So hat auch bei den dichtcnden Rittern der Frdhaeit der Ungang mlt frauen die Snpfindung fttr weibllchee Geftthlaleben geaohdrftf ja man mOehte annehaei daaa die enpflndaane Naturbetrachtung su alien Zeiten auf atarken weibliohen Klnflues hlnwelet"* 2 . K*g* Gottfried yon Straeeburg, Irlstan. 563f.* der h&eta bl^onen ane gelelt /, s$ wdnneollchlu eumsrileUi tgdflpBS 2if_________________________________ mis. het an 62 expression balde (1682) applied to the eon# of the birds recalls the ffrenoh baudoy. which la oonmonly used in this connexion.1 hven more suggestive is the use of brimes in 1684. It is a very rare word, lying quite outside the normal vocabulary of the desman reverdla. The scribe himself seems to have been unfamiliar with it, for he has corrupted it to orunae * which in this oontext is quite meaningless. We may surmise that the word was only Intro­ duced in the first place because the author of our poem found it there in hie source and felt bound to retain lt| this is further borne out by the fact that the phrase manager stlmms which ends the preoedlng line is mere padding» in­ serted for no apparent reason except that it provided a con­ venient rhyme to brlmme. In the standard dictionaries of modern and medieval derman, brlmme is usually equated with "Oinater" on the assumption that it ie an alternative form to MHG pfrlrans (Uenlate - HI© P&ijffl, Pfyly^e^krftat, connected with 1, g.g. Le Roman de Conetane, 3ACT., PtaAm 1890), VolTlI, p. 138, 2684*.« oielel 1 cantent ay /~,P0f Lea, i ^ l o p . jiff. It. 62. A t . : ell olgellon e'enwoleent / 4t aajMBl 63 English broom;. however In several parts of the Rhineland hi-immu and occur as dialect variants of the stand- .*’• ■ : Y'r;: ffi-: ^v ‘ ’ . - ard SHO Brombeere (ttubus fruticosua - MHO brfime. brdmber. cognate with English bram&ie).1 Kors Important still from the standpoint of the present argument, the forms Bretmen and F^hxaSs which are clearly related to Brians a are attested 2 within the sane general area as names for the wild rose* If we are justified in assuning that these present-day var­ iants are based on long-standing regional tradition, it is quite possible that J4H& br^ ggs. might, especially in a iihenish text, denote the bramble or the briar-rose\ in which ease it is liksly, though of oourss not demonstrable, that the poet used the word here as a native equivalent for the French alKlantler. or perhaps fAqrs or V.mdflf The eglantine or aweetbriar was in fact one of the stock features of the revtrile in France, particularly in love- 1. The ,%«lnlaqhfca W8rterbi4<& (j Mflller, Bonn 1928, Vole III, under the heading "Brombeerstraueh") enumer­ ates examples from MCnchsn-Crladbach, kheydt, Oummers- bach, Kempen and Issum in (folds rland; the records of the .Dguteohitr Jpraolytja.ft.Kommlqaiffl (to whose Kind­ ness I lndsb ed for I Vie information In this and ths following note) includes examples from rather further south, e.g. Brlmel. or Brlemsl. from the Blfel region, BrtariR 1 to the north of Trier, Brimebeer on the upper ..ahn, and further variants like arcjnel,B£Silk_ere, Bremers from the Rhenleh alatlnate and the Kosel region. 2, Breimea was noted down slightly north-west of ths Lux- rj.fcurg frontier and Frehms in the Westerwald (Kreis Altenkirehen). <4 poetry, where it seems to have had special symbolical con­ notations* We find it in the troubadour lyric,**’ in the 2 ioastourelie, in the chanson 4 1 histolre*J Host signifi­ cant of all, we find it in the one undisputed song of the historical Maurice de Craon, which may conceivably have served ae a basis for the whole passages- ▲ I1entrant del dous termine Del tans novlal Que naiet la flours en 1 * e s jlne. 3t cil oiaial ~ Chantent parmi la gaudine deri et bial Dont me r&ssaut amours fine* D'un tree dous mal • •• 1* £*g* Jaufre iiudel (ed* A, Jeanroy, Claes* fr* d*m*a* IS, Paris 1915)#. Mo* II, 3* par la fim^ 2. S.g. Bartaoh, M . I, 61, 3f.« iJ» joate un algleatlar / fire por la veprior. and I, 6 3 , 3? h i M a “■flat. ,y«^ac> and i# 63, 3«.« M a j Joer a’alal / A une fontenele. / an un va. d.'al^entljrr 3. p. f*rl«, rTlffirT1™ I ( ’ rl* 1833), »o. T, 2 7*»« Alee aol dl.ro. t-’flo.n, pane .ul;it d Vfcr*.gjtement;. / T*rgl*r 11 atandral *ou* l'ai*l*ni/ 4* 65 ^ la the Low Countries, the eglantine at ill figure a occasion­ ally in folk-song; in a Flemish Maying song, for instance, If the "May-branch" (symbol of the bond of love) dies, it Ie to be buried op/l Jagtttf M l in Germany itself, though the term "Broabeerpfldcken" ie found in some areas as a popular euphemism for the act of love, neither Brombeere nor Welnroee (the more exact botanical equivalent of the French dglantler) belongs to that estab- limbed repertoire of poetic Imagery which each separate nation within the larger unity of Western European tradition has evolved as part of its most distinctive heritages If this vernal idyll, serving both aa prelude and con­ trast to what follows, can be asorlbed without much question to the original source, the same applies even more strongly to the remainder of the episode, where the thread of the narrative is resumed in a manner which leaves no doubt as to its French provenance* For though the association of springtime and love ie as old and universal as mankind it­ self, the forms In whloh it may be given imaginative exp res- sion through the medium of poetry vary characteristically r yi ' H from one country to another* Here we are concerned with a single theme out of the endless range of possibilities - that of the woman who riees early one spring morning and goes out to meet her lover* The motif la probably derived in the first instance from the ancient and widespread customs connected with flay morning, when the lover would come at daybreak to his sweet­ heart’s window and waken her with a summons to rise and greet the spring** But ones it had begun to pass from the realm of living observance into that of artistic conven­ tion, it tended to become no more than an attractive clichd, a ready-made device to suggest "atmosphere", or simply a handy opening formula to launch ths uninspired or inexper­ ienced singer on hie way* Within the general area of diffusion, which extends over the greater part of Kuxope, each country has developed its own native variant, and a comparison between the French and German types is illuminating from the point of view o f our text* 1* A sixteenth-century example of the "Maying Bong" la published by Bartaoh, "Fransdsisohe Yolkslieder dee XVI* Jahrhunderts" (ftfrom* Phil* V, 1881, pp . 521ff*) Ho. 311 A o» matin J« r o m eay<>Ue/Pu aol* dt_Bjar Ja mwa«r Jour ./A la joly ro»« ▼ermalllat/I vol»» tcwuT issuorlCBs e h e e c d; In Germany there are one or two traditional songs whioh begin by relating how a girl gets up early one morn­ ing and goes out into a wood or a garden1 to pick black­ berries or to gather roses* The fact that these songs are widely divergent as regards tone and content, ranging in both from the coarsely Jocular to the tragic, is ia itself a proof of the stereotyped character of their common in­ troduction* A few examples will suffice by way of iilus- tratiom- A* £s solt ein meidlein frft auf atari, Bs solt in wald naeh rttslein gan* B* Bs wollt sin Mdgdlein frtth aufstahn, Und in dsn Wald nach iiOslein gahn. C* Bs wollt ein Jungfrau frtth aufstehn, Wollt in dss Vaters Garten gshsn, Roth HOslein wollt sis brechen ab* I)* Bs wollt ein Mdohen in der Frtth aufstehn, Wollt in dem grttnen Wald spasisren gehn* B. Bs gieng s Maidl nach Hols im Wald, Gar seitig in der Frtth* F* Bs wollt ein Mfldchen in der Frtth aufstehn, Wollt in den Wald spasieren gehn* 1* Both the wood and the garden (the boia d*amour and the lard in dVamoiyg), like the Bro^eerpf^.im men­ tioned above, and the hosenbrec-en, are all well- known examples of erotic folk-iyabolism* 6 8 X 0. SB wollt ein Middle in frflh aufstehn, Dreiviertel btund vor fag, Wollt in den Wald sp&aleren gehn, Wollt Brombeem brechen ab. H« wollt ein Mddchen frdh aufstehn, Priech Waeaer wollt ee holen gehn* X* Be wollt ein Mddchen in der Frdh aufstehn, Bin btdndelein vor den Tag* Brombeeren wollt sie brechen gehn# J. Do sail en jonge Maid frdh opatoan,^ Be sail no de Grdnewald bdnne goan. Xhe group la not a large one, and the tradition eeeme to be entirely popular, that la to say sub-literary, and comparatively recent in date, going back no earlier than the beginning of the sixteenth century* It appears to hava no direct antecedents either in the Middle High German courtly lyric or in the aong-books of the fifteenth century. Moreover its distribution la to a great extent localised* Though isolated instances hava been found in many parts of 2 A Germany, the majority are coneentrated in one particular > hort (Leipaig 1895-94), 1, 96 b. I. and 208; Di V, Beyer, iiH.aa.Blache Vo) ka 1 lede.r (Frankfurt/M 1926) So. 8; si J. Canteloube, op. pit.. Ill, 402j ft J. Meier, .••■ao Aeutgche VolkBlled - j«?.llad?n (Lent. Lit. la Entwickiuntfereihen geeammelt, Reihe 10, Bd. 2, Lelpclg 1956), Mo. 73 !>.» 0* ^*r Zupfgelgenhanal (ed. Breuer, Leipaig 1937), p. 135; Q and It L. Pinole, Verklitwende Voiaen (Mots 1926), Vol. I, pp. 62 and 189; J: J. Meier, op. olt.. So. 73 2, 2. The text 4 quoted above m s taken by Uhland from a collection probably printed In Nuremberg, and B comas from Peteredorf In Silesia. region - the strip of territory running alongside the French frontier from Alsace to the Low Countries#* The ballad of "ler todwunde Qnabo" # perhaps the moet important representative of the typef is assumed by J. Meier to be a 2of Low German origin, and among his versions of the text he includes on© from Holland and one from the Lower Hhine*^ while, significantly enough* the only medieval example I have been able to discover in any German dialect comes from the writings of a Fleming, Duke J Ghana von Brabant, who is known to have been bilingual and who is believed to have composed songs in French as well as Flemlsh-Geraan: 1# Texts D and B quoted above come from Alsace, F and 0 from Hessen-Hassau, H and I from Lorraine# The pro­ venance of C is not stated in the souroe# So# 73/ s *— Die Ballade scheint sc non Aafmi des is. Jhe. auf deutach-nlederlfindlsohem (Jebiete, fiber da,# sla wohl nioht hlnauagekommen 1st, verbraitet gavesen n eeln". 3* l'ha text J quoted above, and a uutch version dating from 1719, beginning* Daer ie een vrowr maget vroeg r n m m m 4# For details of his career, including his death in 1294 at the tournament of Bar-sur-Aube at the age of thirty- four, see the article by G. Bosenhagen in dtaimnler’s i9§§ i"f ~ banes meiearnerghena vroe . was ic op gestaen# In sen schoon boouigaerdekijn soudic spelen gaen*1 All the evidence in fact suggests that the motif in question is not a native German one at all# but has been borrowed from France9 first into the border lands9 where it is still most common* and fron there sporadically into more distant areas* C, Brouwer goes still further and claims that all such formulae in German folk-song can ul­ timately be traced back to the French courtly love-song e of the Middle Ages* And in this case at least his opin­ ion is borne out by the facts* For in France it has always been a favourite Inc jolt* There must be literally dosens of folk-song texts# drawn from every part of the country 9 which open with a stanza or series of stansas describing how the lover - generally9 though not always9 a woman - rises at dawn and goes into a garden, sometimes to gather roses9 signifying passion# or some other aymbolioal flower# sometimes to listen to the song of the nightingale* Again# a few exaaples will suffice for manyi- 1* F*B* von der Hagen# Hlnnealnger (Leipzig 1836)# I# 9# II* The original bov. German form of the poems was reconstructed by H* von Fallersleben* 2. C. Brouwer, Volkallad In fleutachland. r^antorelcjj,. .Belgian und Holland (Groningen 1930), PP» 13W. a. Par un matin je a'y l&ve, Par un beau soleil levant. Je vais au jardin et jfentref Par une porte d*argent. b. Je mfsuie levd de bon matin, Peur cueillir rose et romarin. c. Ue matin me suis levd, Plus matin que de eoutumei Uuis alld dans mon jardin Pour cueillir la rose brune. d. Je m'ai levd de bon matin ... J*ai deecendu dans mon jardin, Cueillir la rose blanche. Je n'dtais pas eitOt enlrde, Que mon amant y entre. e. Le bon matin me suia levd, Jfentende le rossigaolet chanter ... Dane mon jardin je euie alld ... Troie roees blanches ai couples ... f. De bon matin je me suis levd ... Dams mon jardin je suis slid • •. Une rose J*y ai coupde ••• g. Boun maiti me soui levat, Plus maiti que la couetumot Al jardi mfen aoun anat,, Culhi l'herbado menudo. Version a: J. Canteloube, op. cit..IV* p. 297 (Nor- nandy) 5 b t J. Bujeaud, op. cit.. I, p. 78 (the West)1 o ; J. fiersot, Hdlodles ponulairea des prov­ inces de Prance (Sdrie 9, raris 1§28), p. li [ikuphind) ds Closson, Ctensons >Hj.uluiree Aes_ £££>. Pj'il&m {2nd edn. Brussels 1949)$ bo. 196? et Canteloube, op. cit.. I, p. 163 (Cdvonnes)t ft Canteloube, op. Lsl*» il» P* 163 (Auvergne) j tx Chaiij. e.\ .c^ani flopulalrea du Laqguedoe (ed. L. Lambert, Parisj-Leiprig 1906)t II. P. 209 (AriW*)* h* De bon matin me aula ievd, Pour Toir si la rossignol chants • •• oans mon jardJLn le rossignol y chants 9 Soir st matin & la points du jour* i* Js descends dans mon jardin9 Par un escalier d'argent* 11 n'y a personne qui m'a vue, u^a Is rosaignol ohantant• La do into du Jour arrive, arrive, Ce joli jour arrivera* J* De matinet me vaig llevar, De matinet que bon sol fau iient6 cantd un rossinyol* But not only ia the tradition very widespread in the modern chanson populalra. it can also be traced back with­ out a break to the Hid die Ages, the only differences being that the medieval versions are usually narrated in the third rather than the first person, that the central figure is practically always a woman, and that the Jardin Is replaced by the more aristocratic vernier. the boom^aerdeklia of Jdhane von Brabant, which in courtly lyric or romance was the accepted trysting-place for lovers* Ve may quote from the seventeenth century*- 2* K. Holland, op, clt** II, p. 238, from a version dated 1602 published in tfouen* Je me levay par un matin, Que jour il n'estoit mie; Je m'en entray dans nos^jardins, lour cueillir la souoi* 1# Version hi J. Tlersot. las. A-taaa '1 1 » E. Holland, og. cit.. from the sixteenth century; tier au matin je ae levay9 Au jardin de mon pbre entray ••• y Trois flours d*amour j# cueillay. Je m'y leva! un jour de grand mat in f Jo in' en entray dans nos joly jardjn • ## Je rencontray roueaignoulet joly#2 • from the fifteenth century:- . Un bieu matin me levay, Kn un giardin m*en entray, tres rosetas la culhai9< Un oh&pelet en feral9 A mon ami lo derail M’y levay par ung matln9 Plus matin que ne souloye; M*en entray en no jardin9 Pour cueilllr la girouflade • Uencontray le rousignou, * mb estoit dessoubz l’ombrade. - from the fourteenth century*- Jer matin je ae lerai9 Droit au point dcu jour; on vergier mon peire antrai, Ki iert plains de flours#-* 1# K« Bartech, "Fransdsische Vollcslieder dee XVI# Jahrhunderts"9 p# 523# o^. 4# 2. J.B. Weckerlin, Chanson# populalres du iMB..4llaaat (P a r i , b 1903), Vol. II, p. 39. 3. R.A. Meyer, Pranzflgleofae Cleder (Halle 1907), p, 78. 4. 6. Paris - A. Ger&ert, Chansons du XV* glfrcle (SATF., Pnrie 1935), Ho. 104. 5. Pr. OemuAeh, Rondeaux. Vlrelaia und BullMca. Ho. 230, from an Oxford MS# of the early fourteenth century in the Lorraine dialect# 74 - from the thirteenth century*- Kn avril au tens pascour, wue eeur l9erbe nest la flor, L9aloete au point du jour Chante par mult grant baudori Pour la dougor Au tens nouvel , 31 me leral par un matin, (Si m'en antral an un jardin) 3voi chanter aos l’arbroiael Un oiaelet en aon latin.1 Un petit devant le jor Me levay l9autrier ... M9en alai coillir la-flor De joate un vergier* Pour eacouter le chant du rouaaignol9 hit pour deadulre .1. matin me levai, Bn .1. vergier m9en antral.* A atlll more striking instance of the popularity of this motif in the Middle Ages ia the thirteenth-century passe-partout refrain "Bele Aelis", which waa perhaps the moat celebrated dance-hit (aa we should say) of its time** 1. K. Bartachi HP. I9 3^b (1. 3 from version 30a). 2. Ibid.. I9 38, Iff. 3.0. Haynaud, on. cit.. I, Mo. lxviii. 4* For a general account of "Bela Aelia", aee J. Bddier "Lea plus anclennea danse a frangaises" in the Hevue d.s deux M j M (V«. period., t. JUOI, 1906), pp. 421 ft} 0. Paris. Melanges de llttorature francaise du seven (ed. Hoqu**V Pari* 1912), PP. 61WxV| P. Coiraolt, d* noa chanaoqa |.ol.kl_oriqv^ .i (Edition* du soarabd*, 1957), I, PP. 1511T. 75 V Three versions of the music and over twenty versions of the text^ have been preserved, scattered through various song-collections or interpolated into other literary works. Two typical variants of the opening lines will serve by way of illustrations* Main se leva la bien faite Aelis .#•« 31 sfen entra la bele en un gardln. * Bele Alls matin leva, Son oors vesti et para, . Bn un vergier e'en entra. . - y ” • ■ i ”* • i ■ "Bele Aelis" was expanded into a dance-drama in dia­ logue form by the trouvkre Baude de la Quariere,^ intro- g duced by poets Into thsir romances and by preachsrs into 1 1. 2. 5. 4. Gennrich, op. cit., I, pp. 3, 84. Assembled In Bartsoh, HP, pp. 208ff., and aaynaud, op. clt.. I, p. 70, and II, pp. 130ff., 138, 157, 165 Bartsch, HP. IX, 80. Coirault, loc. clt.. p. 152» see also Bartsoh, jgj>. II, 85, Gennrich. op. olt.. I, p. 12, Weckerlla, 0£. clt.. Vol. I, p. xxxiii, and Lscoy da la Mareha, loc. clt^JLnf., p. 92. 5. 6 . Bartsoh, &P. 1, 71I saa also H. Mayar - J. Bddier - P. Aubry, La oiianson de Bele, ^ .el.lB par Quarters (Paris 1904). One variant la sung to the dance by the Duchess of by the Countess of Champagne in Sone de Mansay. 10395ff • 76 A their sermons,1 even transformed into a religious contra- 2factura in praise of the Virgin* And if, as Coirault maintains, it m s indeed the original prototype of all the later songs containing "one podtique eueillette de rose ou de romarin faite par un© Belle, levde tdt et desoendue au thing essentially and exclusively French, which left no tfor was the thane confined to lyric song alone* More than one of the French romance-writ ere has inserted into .•„*£> fZwuaAWA PVtA Aawl tr lin*l 4 aVi AttwAl m i i Wf/%W1 1 \ 2* Coirault, loc* cit., p* 15% note 9* 3# 1 hid*, p. 151. 6. Ibid -, pp. 152ff•, where the development of the theme Tb traced with examples and bibliographical references up to the present century* 5. The melody, it ie true, did transcend national bound­ aries) settings of it for several voices were made by Orlando di lasso and other early polyphonic com- posere (Coirault, loc* clt** p* 152, notes 9-11)* jardin",^ then, as we have seen, its repercussions have not even yet died away/ At the same time it was some— trace of its passage on the surrounding countries*® hi a narrative a charming episode in which a poetic des­ cription of springtime ie followed by a scene where the heroine rises at daybreak and repairs with her lover to a T£ESl2£. One such interlude is the account of the meeting of Fresae and O&leran in Jean rten&rt's ^ Bretajnse (1983ff* )•* ^he reverdie follows the usual patterns II is early in May (Unit sou aprde le .jour de nay 1983) § the birds are singing joyously in the woods» the grass and flowers are springing in the meadows, the trees put out their new leaves in the warm sunshine, the fish swim happily in the clear streams* 1998 Jm violets est ou bulsson, J&t la rose au matin ouverte. Amid this universal rejoicingt- 20O0 Hat Presne qui taut est apperte Matin levee et hors yssue* Her lover is waiting for her and* after a long digress!cm (2002-61), in which the appearance and dress of the pair are described with the most elaborate minuteness* they go together to a secluded gardens- 1, Kd. !*• Foulet (Class, fr. d.m.a,, Paris 1929), 2069 Prennent vers ung vergier leu voy*9 Pour oe qu* on ne cougnoisss et voys La grant amour qul lea eaprent9 and the writer pauaee once more to give a detailed picture (2077-99) of this idyllic pleaeance , with its singing birds9 its fresh verdure, its crystal spring of water9 and its hushed intimacy, as the perfect setting for the joys of love* • A similar passage occurs in Chrdtien's Cligef^ whers Panics 9 hearing the song of the nightingale one morning in early sumer (au novelenant d*eatd • ••, 6350ff#) goes out to mset her lover and begs him to build for her a vergiey where the two of them nay take their pleasure together (6359ff*)* This is done9 and after the garden and its enclosing wall have been described (6400f t . ) we are told how 6420 La sont a joie et a delit, A plaoejso constantly associatsd with ths fsllcity of happy lovers stirred up vary dlffsrsnt thoughts and memor­ ies in those who for any reason wars less fortux&te. Thus Guillaume ds Nevers9 the hero of Pl^aonca,* lying eolltary 1* J5d, V, Forster (2nd edn,9 Halle 1901), 2, P* Moyer (2nd #dn»9 Paris 1901), one J&astertlde (2024) pining for his heart’s desire9 hears an oriole sinking at dawn (2027ffw) and la overcome by melancholy reflections (203-5ff*)» later the same day he goes out Into the garden (2332ff•) and brooding on his love as he listens to the song of the nightingale f the sweetness of whloh pierces hin to ths quick (2351)» he falls into a reverie so profound that he Is blind and deaf to everything round him (2349ff •) • Those unhappy in love slight also be pictured at their windowf looking out Into a springtlae world whose beauty and joy contrasted so painfully with their own desolate plight. More than one of the chansons d’hiatoirs opens with ths figure of a lovelorn girl at her casement t Bele Krembors a la fenestre au jor Bor ses genols tlent palle de color. Bele Boette as fenestres se slet* Lit en un livre, mala au cusr na I'en tlentt Be son ami Boon 11 ressovient ... 2 - and Nicolette assumes the sane posture as she laments her separation fron Aucaaein:- 1« Bartsch, ££. I , 1. 7 f* 2 . Bartach, jj£. I* 3*Iff. 6 0 j A la feneetre roarbrine v. La s'apola la masolne Eeguarda par la gaudJLne, Et Tit la rose espanie 9 « Et lea olsax qul sa orient • •• The motif persists even In French folk-songx- Patlte Claudlnette Trop matin a9aat lard# ... S’appui© aur aa fendtre.* It is a convincingly natural expression of longing and regret, especially for thoae who feel themselves doubly pent-up, in that their physical, no lees than their emo­ tional, liberty la subjeot to some real or fancied res­ traint ; on this account, perhaps, it ia most commonly at­ tributed in medieval poetry to a woman, as the author of y ftorig von Cradix (or, aa seams more likely, his source) points out *- 170$ In ein venatar eie geatuont, ale senendlu w£p ofte tuont, dan lelt von liebe 1st geaohehens diu muog man tr&reride sehen. But though true to life in a realistic sense, the attitude was invested with another and a deeper truth. For in 1* Anoaeala at Uloolett., ed. M. Hoqu.a (Claae. fr. a.m.a., Pari. 1925), p. 4, V, 5ff. Of. also Mari, de Franc, fiXiduo 3Jiff. (Pi. 1*1. der ^ l e A. Fpnoe, ed. K. WarnE., Halle 190u), vhore the lovenTck Gillladun after a sle.plea. night rises early and stands at tear window lamenting her predicament. 2. Jtd. Holland, o p . olt.. II, p. 38. typical medieval fashion it was doubtless felt to be poet­ ically and symbolically appropriate that those who were cut off from the delights of love should also be denied accese to the scene of those delights, like souls shut out of naradiss. So for the oountees in BSH 1ML th* ^rfctn with its bower which was to have witnessed the fruition of love (1092ff.) is not merely a reminder of her loss, but a symbol of everything from which, by her own fault, she is now banished. True, the text does not ex­ plicitly state that she is gasing out over a garden-close rather than over the open field (fiber heide), like the lady in Dietmar von Hist's Palkealied. yet the context strongly suggests this. Moreover, there is independent evidence to show that the loube (1703) - a balcony-like structure, with climbing plants trained round the wlndow-arohes to form a species of indoor arbour - normally gave inwards on to the castle enclosure, not outwards on to the surrounding countryside, where it would have presented e vulnerable target in case of attack. The implications of the passage 1* Cf. F. von der Hagen, Qeaaamtabenteuer (Stuttgart 1830), HO. XXV, Die AiachtIgallT 6ltt. t Vor dern hds-v ejn ft|Ari9^.g^ft0ch enbog. Kxamplss of these arrnded v tndow-embraoures overlooking the inner courtyard can still be seen today in many castles, both in this country and on the Continent. become still more plain when it is set alongside an episods from Palerap da Bretmaa in which the hero, now parted from Presne, goes and sits alone at the window of a lwtw.1 looking down into the garden belowf listening to the song of the birds and weeping as he calls to mind happy hours a .ent in another vernier with his belovedi- 5266 Do la ehambre ae peart a tant9 *ue plus demourer ne 11 sietv It sn une loge s'aselet ▲ une fensstre de marbrej S’es&arde en un vergier meint arbre9 t i t les oyaeaux qul y font feste. Bee biaux yeule pleure de sa testef Car du verglsr de Blauaejour hi souvint ou 11 fu maint Jour A grans dedula aveo s'&mle* Any type of literature whioh9 like that of the Middle Agesf is guided by custom and precedent t rather then by free impulse and lntultion9 will shrink from taking advan­ tage of the endlesa variety of choice at its disposal and tend Instead to concentrate on a few recurrent modes of ex­ pression that rely for their effect not on the impact of novelty9 but on a certain aura of familiar association* ' * t • . ' ' A whole range of human experience can thus become crystal­ lised in a single concept9 selected in preference to all 1* The French log;e« like the Italian lo&^ia. ie in f&ot derived from the same Germanic root which has given M». lou&B. tha other possible alternatives on grounds which even in their own day seem to defy rational explanation* the con­ text we have been discussing ie of this nature* Innumer­ able images could hare been evoked to epitomise the torments of love-longing, yet for some reason this particular one established itself in France as the most satisfying and ths most representative* tie cannot begin to ^uess at the pre­ cise literary or emotional overtones which coamended it to the French poets and their audiences, nor can we tell why ' ' ■ ’ ■' • ’ I " ' . ' v V : ; ~ i ■ ■ ■. ■■ y ■ an image which exercised so strong an appeal in France failed to exercise any comparable appeal in Germany* We can only say, on the basis of the eurvivlng evidence, that such wae apparently the case* The same thing la true of yet another tiny but reveal­ ing detail in the passage under discussion* As the coun­ tess llstsns to ths nightingale she rests her cheek on her handi- 1710 ir wise hant wol getin lelte si an das w&nge und ldsts den vogelsange* Here again what appears to be no more than a touch of straightforward realism proves on closer Investigation to be alive with meaning* In a sense the gesture io natural, almost instinctive; but spontaneous movement can also become isolated and stiffened into a ritual form* In real life this seems to have been one of those prescribed attitudes which played such an important part in fashionable etiquette during the Middle Ages* It grew still more mannered by dint of constant repetition in pictorial art and numerous instances might be quoted from medieval mia- iat ur©~ pa in t ing and sculpture. In the same way it could become a literary formula. Up to a point there is no dis­ tinction between France and Germany in this respect* Among German examples one may cite the well—known lines where Valther von der Vogelweide describes himself sitting on a stone and brooding over the political ills of his timei- ich hete in mln hant gesmogea* das klnne und ein mln wange. 1. Of* B. Panofeky. Albrecht Dtoer (London 1947), I, 1621 "That she (i.e. Meiancho 1 ia) rests her head on her hand ie in keeping with a tradition which can be traced back to ancient Egyptian art. As the expression of brooding thought, fatigue or sorrow, this attitude le found in hundreds of thousands of figures and has be­ come a standing attribute of melancholy or •Acedia*% 2* For instance, the figure known as "Ber tfkeptiker* from the ch0ir~stalls of Cologne Cathedral, the group of Job#s friends from the tympanum of ths right door of the North portal at Chartres, a similar miniature from the Admont Bible in the Vienna Hatioualblbliothe^. and the portrait miniatures of Walther von der Vogelweide in the Mane see and Weingarten Codices. 5* Walther^ first song in the so-called "Kelchaton" (Wal­ ther1 • Uedlchte. ed. C. v. Kraus, Berlin 1990# 8. 7f. )• ~ or the account of the shame and remorse of the hero9 e father in Hartmann’s Gregorius:- •r begunde sdre welnea, das houbet underleinen so riuwecliehen mit der riant* • ale deru es se sorgen let gew&nt. - or th* picture of th* jtojrteftft Icfixifftfa in Konrad Ton Wdraburg'* Partonopjar und Melldrt- lr wAugel rdt mit wiser hant begundea underleinen*2 In France too it la a standard token of a sad or ten­ sive frame of mind* Fvan in a chanson da like Kaoal tie Cambrai we are told how the grievously wounded Altaians retiree from the fight and site down apart Atant s’alssit, sa main a sa maissele*^ the sen# phrase is used in Chrdtiea1* Qii^ff of boredamors:- 1378 A sa melsaele a sa main alse Ft sanblc que stout solt panels f and in the Homan de Dolooathos of the king who is plunged Into despair by the news that his son has lost the power of spooohi~ 1* hd* P. Beoh (Deutsche klassiker dea Mlttelalters, Leipslg 1891), 457ff• 2* Bd* A, Bartsoh (Vienna 1871), 8034f• 3* Bd« P* Meyer - A* Longnon (SATF** »'Jaris 1882), 4699# 3552 Lore cro 1st ces dub.*3 et renovils, Dont net aa main a ea msssils. 3o far there is little to ohooae between the two coun­ tries from the point of view of Morlg von Crate, but the balance seems to be tipped conclusively in favour of France by sundry passages, ooourring only In French courtly poetry, where this motif Is linked, as It la In our text, with the whole complex of ideas suggested by the vernier as the garden of love. i'here Is, for instance, the chanson d*hla- tolre which begins t- Kn un vergler les une fontenele • • • 31st fllle a rol, sa main a sa maxele, Kn sospirant son doua ami rapele.1 - or the scene from Sons de Nansay where the hero la a mood of grief and perplexity induced by unhappy love falls as though mechanically Into the same posture i- 2612 &t Bones va esbanoijerj Bn •!. vregier en est entrda, U 11 avolt arbres ase6s ••• 2618 8a main a sa masslslls mist, Con chila qui ne ae set aidisr He lul ns autrui conselllier* The numerous analogies which have been traced in the foregoing pages make it plain beyond s doubt that as far as this section of Morig von Crailn 1® concerned the port is U Bartsch, &P., I, 9, 1-4• *7 not only following hie source hut following it with remark­ able fidelity. Contrary to hie usual habit he does not attempt to remodel or interpret hie material. He is con­ tent to render it briefly and directly into hie own native tongue, and by so doing he enables ue to glimpse more clearly than any other portion of the lost French text that episode which, we may surmise, formed the original conclu­ sion of the story. We have now reconstructed with a fair degree ofoer- tainty the framework of the narrative ae it stood in the original French version, corresponding roughly to lines 263—28# and 417-1725 of the (German redaction. It was a lively and forthright tale, based on a problem of courtly love arising from a series of unusual but by no means in­ credible circumstances. Tot though the plot may well have been built up in various stages it was anything but shapeless or incoherent; it might indeed be defined as a miniature five-act drama t­ Act I - the exposition: the lovers are introduced# Act II - the development: the knight earns his reward. - the crisis: the knight la rejected. Act IV - the oliaax: the knight takes hie rerenge. Act Y - the epilogue: the lady la left lamenting. The same feeling for structural balance governs the pattern whereby interest is focussed on each of the two principal characters in turn;- In I the lady dominates the scene ae the object of the knight•s devotion and service* In II the central figure ie the knight, who le shown in action, while the lady is a mere spectator of hie exploits. In III it is the lady who decides the course of ev­ ents, while the knight la quiescent in sleep* In IV the knight le shown once again in action of a very different kind, while the lady is hie passive victim. In V the lady remains behind on the stage to ring down the final curtain. No less symmetrical is the alternation between the stretches of relatively static subject-matter and the inter­ ludes of energetic activity. Thus I, III and V consist for the most part of soliloquy, dialogue, reflection or description, while II (apart from the account of the hero vs tourneying equipment) and IV are largely occupied with deeds and events. When one adde to all this the closely—woven texture of the composition and the masterly use of irony and contrast to sharpen the point at issue, it is hard not to feel that such a tale, if only for the excellence of its construction, deserved a better fate than the obscurity into which it has vanished. 89 < 4. “Fine amours clalmme en mol par hire tags Droit: s'eet raisons, quar blen et loiaument L'ont servie de Creon, lor aage, Li bon seigneur, qui tlndrent ligament Prie et valour et tout eneeignament•t By definition the ftoveils purports to relate some­ thing "new", and although, ae we have seen, the action of Mori* von Cretin is composed of elements which can be traced back to quite primitive times, the author claims that it all took place within recent memory* His deist nlht lane in line 263 tallies with ths n*a pas lono tans in line 5 of Le Chevalier qui recovra Vaaor de sa dams, and so is probably derived from the French source, but phrases such ae these are a universal trick to catch the attention of the reader or listener at the outset with a promise of freshness and topicality. The ffovelle also purports to relate something which, though admittedly exceptional, actually has or oould have 1. We find them constantly in ths fabliau, as in Hit. f Mo. XJUXIII, 13 i Avlati-n'ti. ,paa ,0^ .. h» eatjag; in the fifr— *■ in Bartech, HP., I, V w * ^ f r ^ ITlM m"el autre pale / C*un« chevalierg ot — in bnllndry, like the — -- 3rrT=rr •)I and in more modern works, b ch as La Fontaine1 si Vous Oontee et Mouvellee. V, l,18f.). happened in real life, and me simple way of g iv in g an air of voracity to a ficlitiouo anecdote io to introduce factual detail* like names of people or places* Accord­ ingly the hero and heroine of our poem - the only charac­ ters indeed to ahed their anonymity - are identified with two historical personages of twelfth-century Frances the Seigneur Maurice de fJraon and the Vicomtease de Beaumont** The lords of Craon were among the Dost illustrious and powerful magnates of the province of Anjou* They were allied, both by marriage and by distant ties of kin­ ship, to the royul houses of England and Trance, and they continued to hold positions of trust near the throne till the family died out in the male line at the end of the fifteenth century* Their sest of Chdte&u-Gontier m s situated near the little town of Craon on the river uudon in the denartment of Cayenne, and their hereditary bl&son, loeengy or and gules, dates from the last third of ths twelfth century*^ Like many other nobles whose estates 1* Her Christian name we never learn, and the (torman »oet mistakenly give* her the rank of a countess ,&raevlnne)* instead of a viscountess* 2* Bertrand de Brouaaillon, ZaJtoAaojk dlM o i L (Paris 1893), 2 vols*, traces the history of in very full detail* 3* Though the armorial bearings of the hero are mentioned more than once in the course of the poem they are not explicitly specified* 91 ^ lay within the £>lantagenet dominions in France they had close connexions with England9 and offshoots of the family migrated at different periods across the Channel9 ob­ taining 9 under the name of Croun or Crohun, fiefs near Boston in Lincolnshire and in Surrey# JPor the scions of this house the name ^urice was a traditional choioe9 perhaps due to the fact that St* Maur­ itius was one of the patrons of the province and between 1116 and 1250 it was borne by no fewer than five Seigneurs de 0raon9 a circumstance which has led to a good deal of confusion as to the precise identity of our hero# It is now generally accepted that he ie maurice II9 the son of Hugues de Craon9 who was born about 1130 and succeeded to the seigniory in 1150# His career coincided with the rise to power of the house of Anjou# with whose fortune® hie own were closely linked# As one of Henry ii#a ^ ost influen­ tial vassal8 he not only fought in his suzerain’s ware but was also employed on a number of diplomatic missions# Thus on September 21st9 1177 he was one of three barons 2 delegated to negotiate the peaoe of Yvry9 and in 1180 he A 1# The oathedral of Angers ie dedicated to this saint# 2# Roger de Hovedenf Chronica (Rolls Bdn#)9 IIf p# 145# was entrusted with the task of renewing the same treatyf1 he le again mentioned aa one of the mediators between the King and hie rebellious sons in 1183. Several times we find his name among the lists of witnesses to documents of state, such as the p*&ce treaty of Malaise In 1174*^ Me seems to have been a member of Henry's Immediate per­ sonal entourage, fluid "Monselngnor Moris de Creon" appears In line 9307 of the tistolre de Qulllaume le Hardohal* no one of the faithful few who attended the Old King on his deathbed In 1189* Hound about the year 1166 he went on Crueade, and after hie return In 1170 he married Isabellef daughter of tfalerand de Meulan and widow of Geoffroy IT de ftayenne.** Towards the end of hie life he took the Cross 1. Ibid*. II, p . 199. 2. Ibid^ II, p. 277. 3* See below, p. 94 . 5. We may note that one chronicle speaks of the lady as JteMfmy" (aohroeder, Introduction to Mo*!* von Crailn. edn. of 1894» p. xxi, quotes as his soures the j&StloiumIre JaL^Mgiigg.» ▼!. ?• 440). It Is tempting, but quite usoless, to speculate shout ths meaning of this sobriquet. once again, and accompanied Hichard the Lionheart to the Holy Land in 1190* He returned safely a second time to his native province, founded there a priory for the benefit of his soul, and died on July 12th 1196#* His widow sur­ vived him for many years, dying as late as 1220* In his day he seems to have been regarded with high esteem, not merely on account of his rank, but for his chivalric vir- 2 tues - and perhaps for hie literary talents as well* Hie eldest son, also named Maurice, succeeded him for a short period as head of the family, and on the premature death of Maurice III in 1207 the title passed to his younger brother Amaury 1, under whom the lords of Craan were created hereditary seneschals of Anjou, Touraine and Maine* Amauryfs son, Maurice IV, who succeeded him in 1 , For a more detailed account of his life and character, see de Brousslllon, op. cit.. pp. 71-120. 2* The five songs variously attributed to Maurice, Pierre and Amaury de Craon in the different M3S. have been subjected to a* most penetrating analysis by A. Langfors in Lef chaaaona attributes agx e.glgn.urB d. GjafflB (Mdmoireo de laSocidtd N6ophilologique de Helsingfors, VI, 1917, pp. 41ff.). The authorship of three of these songs is very doubtful, but Langfors concludes that of the remaining two, one (A 1*entrant del doug termine* quoted p. 64) can be ascribed with some cer­ tainty to Maurice II, while the second, which begins with the lines cited at the head of this section, was probably writtsn by Pierre, the second son of Maurice II. 1226, was an ardent Jouster and is known to have taken part in the famous international tournament of Coapifegne in February 1239.X Thu Viscounts of Beaumont, whose seat lay at Beaumont** 8ur~Barthe» were neighbours of the lords of Craon on the east* Their estates actually adjoined each other and there were many links between the two households. The particular Vloomte who was contemporary with Maurice IX ds Craon, and who is thsrsfore oast for ths thankless rdle of ths husband in our poem, was a certain nichard, of whose wife unfortunately nothing is known* husband and lover appear quite frequently side by side in ths records of ths time* "Mor(ieius) ds Greona” and "Rio(ardus) ds Bello** monte vic(scornes)" were fellow-witnesses to the peace of Falaise in 1174,^ and another royal edict dated 1180 is likewise attested by a group of nobles among whom are listed "Mauriclus ds Creon" and "hioardus vioeoomes Beilomontls**^ 1# It may conceivably have been on this occasion that the story about his grandfather9 s adventures in love reached the ears of the Oerm&n poet, or his patron* 2* tiymer, Poedera. etc* (1704), I, 38* 3. J.H. Sound, calendar of dopmoonta prtee ttoSdon^i899 /fff p-^T^-8| ^ y ^ e^ al_Br and XiylHgd 95 ^ One of Maurice II'a grandsons was put under the guardian* ship of xiichard's eon, xiaoul III de Beaumont,1 and in 1201 Haoul de Beaumont and Maurice III de Craon aoted aa joint sureties for Juhel de Mayenne in his oath of allegiance to 2King John, while in 1210 xiaoul de Beaumont had Amaury I de Craon ae his own surety in swearing fealty to the King of Prance.’ The dlreot male Beaumont line became extinct in 1249, bat it wae revived by Robert de Brienne, who took the style of Robert I de Beaumont, and the two families continued to run alongside eaoh other till the fifteenth century* In the late thirteenth century there were various marriage ~Y' alliances between them. Some thirty years later we read that i- "Hadaflft *»<»>■». fJJJLL JMnfXWt MLftt* a lS SL lfi AH. ■iP.’fefSft dft •• jtESflPflssa If U* 1°AV d'aopat l'ttfy 12??".5 Again, on March 11th, 1338, the marriage contract between Guy de Laval 1 * Be Brouesillon, op. clt., I, p. 8 8 . 2* Ibid.* I, p. 121* 3. Ibid.. I, p. 132. 4. Rild*i X, p. 211. 3. Ibid.. I, p. 230.. 96 K •»* laabaau de Craon was ratified "eatre ooblea ho— M at puiaeante. le viooate de Beaumont, Pierrea de Craon. at ateaalaw: Q»LU«iHt .A«. c.^w # 3. £d. G-. iiaynaud - h . Foulet (Class, fr. d.m.a. 9 Paris 1921) 6. Id. M. Roques (Class, fr. d.m.a., Paris 1931)* as j&Aqj^Au ^ 1 2 ifcAiamlter.-Maaa* la . s t s a siki s x , A A» jwmtia* Jehao et Blonde. ^and one or two others - combine a romantic plot with a realistic contemporary setting* Some have a bias towards sentiment and psychological analysis, with long digressions and monologues on the nature of love and the problems of the heart; others prefer to concentrate on action and external dlcorj but most of them preserve a more or less equal balance between the two, and taken to­ gether they give a uniquely vivid impression of aristocratic life and thought in thirteenth-century Prance* It is significant that practically every one of these romances (the chief exception is La coatesse dfAnjou) has the same general provenance and settings the eastern and north-eastern marches of France, or Flanders - that is, the same region to which we find our attention repeatedly drawn in connexion with Moris von Oradn* Jean Henart, the author of &il,llRU)Be, d, iilSls. and perhapa of £aj^n_da BatfeMBRt4 1* M. A* 3cheler, Brussels 1867-8 (Langlois, op* cit.* pp. 323ff.). 2* Id* A, 3oheler, Brussels 1867-8 (Langlois, qp* oit*. pp. 329ff•)• 3* Kd. H* Buchier (3ATF., Paris 1884-5), Vol. II* 4* The other works of Jean tenart, Lfcncuufle and ths Lai r-o 1•Ombre* though concerned like iVe rest with con temporary 11 f roven9al territory, some of the episodes and above all the name of the heroine (Flamenca ■ la Flamande) point to Fibers. Again, a surprisingly high proportion of them intro­ duce into their plot characters from recent or contemporary historyt royal personages, like Henry I and II of England and Eleanor of Aquitaine in Joufrole, or the German Emperor Conrad in Guillaume de Dfllet noble lords or ladies, like Duke ilugues IV of Burgundy, Laura de Lorraine and Beatrice de Champagne, who are the principal actors in the tragedy 1. Ed, M. Delbouille (Bibl, de la Fac. de Phil, et Lettres de lfUh±v. de Li&ge, XLIX), Lifege 1932» 101 M 0 aatelaine de Vergyi and other members of the knightly class, who may appear briefly in the background (the lists of tourneying knights in both hlaaenca and fcayjftuff8. At M l i contain many historical names), or may be given the star part, like Guillaume de DGle, originally a native of Pranche-Comtd* Occasionally the rdle assigned to them is a flattering one, perhaps intended to please some patron, but elsewhere, as in the case of the Don Juan adventures of Joufrois (Gui-Geoffroi de Poitiers?) at the Bnglish court, or — allowing for considerable liberties with historical fact — the triangle drama at the Burgundian court in ha : fy ds Tergy* it is of such a daring and equivocal nature that we can only marvel at the effrontery of the writer in thus making free with the names of well-known men and women who at that date may still have been living* It is true that probably little more than a name is involved. We see at once how deceptive this air of historicity can be when w© try, say, to establish the exact identity of the Gu± de iiemours, the Archimbaut de Bourbon and the Guillaume de Never* of *lamenca* The names sound authentic enough, but the facts simply do not fit in* As regards their subject- matter, these romances are in all likelihood pure fabrl- cation. M chaatalalne d* *ergf nay be a genuine romaaJl 102 sK ris£f tasptimi by a notorlouo scandal in high life, but the theme is suspiciously balladenque. Some of the plots are clearly recognisable as typical ^universal* motifs (be charitelaln is foucv and the Satan Vie art, Taufrots and the slandered Queen, and eo forth), on to which has been arbitrarily grafted a set of dramatic personae drawn from real life. In one case at least, Le chaatelaln de Coucy. the hero is a poet.1 Works such as this, or the frankly apocryphal biographies of the Provenjal troubadours (one thinks, for example, of the well-known story of Jaufrd Kudel and the lady of Tripoli), argue that in Prance there was a tendency for poets, especially those of noble birth, to become a legend within that class of society to which they belonged and for which they wrote. And in their own generation the loves of Maurice de Craon and the Vicomtesse de Beaumont may have been scarcely leas celebrated than the loves of o Guy de Coucy and the Lame de Fayel. 1. Guy de Coucy, d. 1203* ?he troubadour Marcabru also appears as a very subordinate character both in Fla- menea and in Joufrols. ^ 2. One or two interesting textual parallels may he remarked between be chastelain de Coupy and Morlg won Crata, such as the panegyric of the hero with which both Sens opem e.g. Coucy 61ff. BjLwsfjue .avoir .... and Moris von Crete 265ff. ______ ■V.0.! .&«.5P-£eA / J^ -..al.ls£.jU”g« 7Jfe5y.gg.P.h . . . 105 Why this should have hardened we have no moans of knowing. Maurice's few surviving verses contain no ner- eonal allusion, no distinctive note, which might have en­ couraged the growth of romantic tradition. i^or does v‘orij| yon Cr -in. at any rate in its existing fori, give the slightest hint that ths knight is a singer too. But in life he must have been a man of commanding personality and many-sided gifts,'*’ whose reputation both among his contem­ poraries and with posterity could very easily swell from sober report through rumour into fantasy. A few tiny clues do in fact suggest that the story of our poem was well-known in those parts of Prance which most nearly concern us here. Thus, as we have seen, Chapter XIiYIII of Le Petit Jehan de balntrd. which was written either for Louis of Luxemburg or for John of Calabria, later Duke of Lorraine, mentions ths lords of Craon and Beaumont in the same breath as the lord of Vergy, a name inseparably linked with romance. Again in Flamenca Guillaume de Never* gives out that he is in love with "la bella de Belmont” 1. To quote the words of achroeder on p. 23 of ths iatro- duotlon to the edition of 1913*- "Die gl&nsendste Gestalt aber in der vierhundert jdhrigen Geschichte dss iiausss Craon 1st Moris XI, der Held unaerer Lo­ vells: Krlsgsr und Staatsmann, Samaler von deliqulea und Llebespf&ndern, Kreusfahrsr und MlnnesAnger#* 104 (7097) In order to divert the suspicions of the jealous huehand, and he manages to convey messages to his beloved under cover of this disguise; when the pair meet, Flasaenca, who is a party to the ruse (7168ff«), pretends to accuse him of fickleness, and he laughingly repudiates the charges* doMft JPfU-OAkAl / Tata borm e tam ft0 / (flm de auUa. re aelua aoa pee (7406ff.). Unfortunately, Juat when the author seems about to explain this choice of name* there ie a lacuna in the MS., but the whole Incident implies that in the parlance of courtly love ’the lady of Beaumont" had become an accepted term for a liege-miatress. ihe fact that the original French version of Horiz von Crafln has now disappeared presents no real obstacle to such a view, for the transmission of the romans mondaina is pre­ carious in the extreme. Though the genre must have been fashionable lor a while, it never took permanent root. Perhaps in the long run these poems shocked public taste a little by their boldness, perhaps the topical flavour pre­ vented their appeal from being anything more than ephemeral, perhaps their touch of modernity clashed with orthodox medieval conceptions of romance - whatever the reason, it is clear that they failed to gain widespread or lasting popularity. 1'here are several MoS. of La chaatelaiae de Vargy and two of Le ohaatelaln de Couov,* Moat of the others cure preserved in unique, often fragmentary, MSS# scattered over Western *urope from Careassonne to Copenhagen# One or two, like ffoulke ^itawarin and Le comte d*Artois exist only in late and inferior redactiona# Many, includ­ ing maybe other specimens of trouvbre legend, must have periehed entirely, as our text would have done were it not for the chance survival, in one single late MS#, of the 2German translation# The identity of the lovers in Horig von Cratin ia, beyond any shadow of doubt, a trait which the German poet took over from his source# Apart from the spelling of the names Cradn and Bdtount# which are unmistakably French in 1# These two tales were the only ones of the group to aohieve a measure of fame outside the borders of kranee; both were translated widely into other lan­ guages. Of. H. Loren*, Dl# Kaatellanin ron Yerei la ,»i t eruturen j -jguirr. xtai .iena. tier.M ffde-riwdet ijn^lauds und_£ftutac,il and8 (Hall# 1909). 2# Langlois, op# cit## p# xxii, note 3t "#• sont pas oomprl8 dans oe ddcompt* Isa l&is at lea romans qui ns sont plus oonnus que par dee traces indireotes# Un das plus regrsttablss est le roman dont Maurice ds Cr&on, un das principaux barons ds 1*Anjou sous Henri II ^lantagsndt at eon fils, dtait le hdros, et dont il nv exists plus qu9un dcho ddnaturd dans un pofcas allemand", and p# 212, note 1, A propos of La chasts- lalnc de Ver^yi "Il y a lieu ds oroire que le roman oerdu ••• dont le sujet dtait 1*amour de Itaurice ds Craoh pour la vicomtesse ds Beaumont mett&it dgalement en soene des personnages viwants, dans das postures qul ne pouvalent manquer d9#trs ddsagrdablea k lours families-. origin and baaed on written forma, not on casual hearsay or guesswork, there is no conceivable reason why he should have gone to Anjou for his hero and heroine rather than to some less distant region of France or to his own native land* More important still, the two countries seem to have differed radically in their attitude towards the poets of the ohivalric age* The troubadours and trouvferes of France were celebrated in the literature of court and castle and have left no discernible trace on the traditions of ths common people; the German Minnesinger* conversely, never became legendary figures within their own class»^ obut passed instead into popular mythology and folk-ballad. Although the tale of the katen Heart, related in France of Guy de Coucy and in Provence of the troubadour Gullhem de Cabestanh, has in Germany likewise become attached to ths person of a poet, the Bavarian ^elnmar ▼on Brennenberg • . (d* 1275)* it la in folksong, not courtly romance, that his 1« There is nothing in Germany that corresponds, for instance, to the Provencal troubadour biographies* 2* The question of the poet as hero is treated in de­ tail by P. Hostock, I>icht*ghold*n»«g* (Hermaea XT, Hall* 1925). 107 fate ie commemorated.^ Other still more famous examples of trinoestoxer who mystsrlously contrived to capture ths popular imagination are Tannhduser (c. 1240-1270)* and Heinrich von Morungen (d, 1222);^ and many othar similar tale© may onoe have existed that never attracted the in­ terest of the ballad-einger and are now irrecoverably lost#* But nowhere, except in iioriz von Cradn, do we find a poet elevated to the dignity of a hero by those who were at onoe hi© admirers and hie social equals* 1* 2. 3< 4* Variants of the ballad of * (sometimes corrupted to Br etc*) are published in uUl imberger1 iliederPlPfe *7° * a£ L ln y* ?®h,ae'8 AltdeutsciieB .lsdsrbuch (Lsip- si« 1877), No. 23. For the Tannhduser legend, see A*M* Meyer "Tannhduaer und dis lannhftusersage", (Soltactyrlft deo VoUcakund^ , 21, 1911 § pp* Iff*;* For the ballad of "^ er "Der edele Moringer" ( JS* Bchroeder HI>ae Lied" des Karingers” (ZfdA.#, 43# 1899, pp* 184ff*)* It lo interesting to note that another Mlnnesdnger, Gottfried von deifen, appears in this ballad aa "Korlngsr9*" rival in love* The miniatures of the Manesse Codex (e*g* that of Dletmar von *ist) often appear to hint at some unknown and undlacoverable tradition connected with the poet in question* I I . ALLUSIONS TO PERSONS AND PLACES "09 this learning, what a thing it is!"* Categorical proof is naturally not to ba hoped for* but in the light of all that has been said above we may assume that ths basic structure of Loris von Orafln has been taken over by the Oerman poet from his source largely unaltered except for a tendency to linger over the more reflective and moralising portions* To this solid core of substance he has added a good deal of supplementary matter, baaed either on his knowledge of oontemporary lit­ erature or on the body of general lore current in his day or on his own privats thoughts and feelings* Here and there the accretions are palpably obvious9 elsewhere they are much more open to doubt 9 and every inch of this debat­ able ground has been contested by the different editors and critics of the text with arguments that can no more be vindicated than they can be overthrown* Nor are the difficulties lessened by the fact that many key words and 1. The Taalmt of the Mir**. 1 , 2 lines in the MS# are so corrupt that emendation becomes a matter for random conjecture rather than scientifio deduction* It is in the first place impossible to reach any final verdict about the provenance of the various allusions to people and places which are scattered through the poem* The greater part of them are concentrated within two long descriptive passages, ths acoount of the ship on wheels1 (627-696, 859-890), and that of the Countess* bed (1110-1172), both of which almost certainly existed in the French source and both of which were probably amplified by ths German translator* The four geographical names introduced between lines 641 and 686 do not point unmistakably in any one direction* The writer is personally inclined to think that the erman poet was responsible for the references to Cologne (641) and the Maas and Khine (688^ and that ths mention of 1* See below, Chapter Four, pp* 5l8ff. 2* See below, Chapter Three,p . 424. J» These three names occur repeatedly in ths writings of Heinrich von Veldeke with which our poet was undoubt­ edly familiar, and for which he had a high admiration (of* especially ths Servatlus* ed* P* Piper, Kttrschners D.N.L*, Hdfische bpik I, Stuttgart n.d., pp. 81ff.). Flanders in connexion with the cloth-trade (657)1 occurred already in the original version; hut all euoh conclusions are hound to he of the most tentative order* 3t* Brandan and his voyagings (684) had passed into the vernacular tra­ dition of hoth countries alike long before the close of the twelfth century, while the figure of Antichrist (886) was familiar throughout Christendom, though references to Antichrist in secular literature are perhaps more charac- toriatic for trance than for Germany. The second group of allusions raisse even more complex problems. To begin with, the MS. reading Holtc von liulcaaua.das nic^ t/verj;rteaen Jsa (1122f.) is plainly cor­ rupt. Both Sohroeder and Pretsel emend Bulcanus to Vul- i^nn«- but each interprets the name differently. ^chroeder takes it as meaning the god Vulo&n, the master oraftsman to whose skill all kinds of marvels are ascribed in medieval romance.^ This theory demanda the minimum of textual 1, Cf. hj..;ticaan_de .1, faagount, ed. H. Miohelant - P. Meyer (SATP. iariB 1694). 3565 un drap de Plandrea aolftti, and 3996 AffP. naflffiflg* 2, Several instances are quoted in A. Tobler - is, Lom- matsoh, Altfransfteleohea wdrterbuoh (Berlin 1925 -). 3* Ths tradition stems originally from Virgil’s account of ths forging of Aens&s1 armour in Book VIII of ths fieneid, hut it is not confined to such works as teinrich von Veldeke's anelde (ed* 0* Behaghel, fieil- bronn 1682) or the French lioraan d’frpeaa (ed* Balverda de Grave, Claes*fr*d*m*a*9 Paris 1925-29). Konrad Fleck in noire. Hftd (•*• *• aommer, Aied- 1inburg 1846) saye of a costly goblet in machete .Ynlfidn eln amlt (1380), and many other examples could be quoted* revision and fits in very satisfactorily with the general context, but reduces the actual words as they stand to nonsense# Pretael takes Vulc&nua in the equally possible sense of "volcano", and emends the whole phrase to von holme. /.. nlftt verbrennen ankfta, i.e. wood that not even the flames of a volcano could consume* To both these suggestions the writer prefers the reading holx von ebenus. pronosed by Bech as long ago as 1872#^ In the Middle Ages ebony was commonly believed to be Incombustible, and was therefore much sought after for the manufacture of rare and precious objects#2 h^e scribal confusion may be due to the fact that all three concepts tended to run together in the medieval mind, on the strength of Pliny*s Natural History#^ where Kthiopia is said to derive its name from a son of Vuloan, to contain many volcanoes and to he rich In forests of ebony-wood# 1# 2# In v#d# Hagen*s Germania 17 (1872), pp# 170-177# • * la. cfladteffiA tfism . / Mari* do France, Gui^emarnus. ana H o aa ] ev.li.la ne olortyrc / Kj ne«»«.» g!A out .Ch c sourcec latinoa dea contes et ro a 1913) quoteo on p££122. tram i jgBSf-ft 1 3 a ; a desc: • lfe3 an extract tescrlption of the palace of Pres ter John* Ooopertura ejuadem palacli eat de ebeno ne allquo sasw-aaqa u combua* Book VI, parac. 187, 197* 112 The construction placed on these lines further deter­ mines their relationship to a later passage U35ff** where the workmanship of the bed-coverlet (goiter) is described as being so fine that not even Cassandra could have excelled it* In the Introduction to the 1894 edition of i,oria von Crafln dchroeder uses these two allusions as evidence for the date of the work by claiming that they are borrowed from Gottfried von Strassburg, who introduces the identioal conjunction of Vulcan the smith and Cassandra the seamstress into his aocount of the preparations for Tristan’s accolade*1 But the touch of irony which Gottfried instile into hie picture of dar,g&ote and xJj&JjrtjortmL is itself enough to suggest that they had already become a hackneyed commonplace in contexts of this type* And £chroeder qualifies his earlier view, first in an article, Zf&A* 43 • PP* 257ff*» and subsequently in his Introduction to the 1913 edition of Moris von Crafln* on the grounds of a passage from the Roman d’Sneaa. which leads him to 1# Gottfried von Straseburg, Tristan. 4930ff*t 4948ff#, 4970ff* 2* The description of the colter draped over Camilla’s bier in lines 7452ft. includes a nusaling phrase (7457) which in ecreral M38. run* »D* ca/e,eg. baf, esteit brosdee"« a version retained by Balverda ds OraTS in the torn "Pc cafe cn bate estait hrgMe*"* In the group J5FG, however, the line appears as *A .1. « pandrc eatelt broadec". whioh, as ochrosder points , could easily be a copyist's error for "A ues (-opus ) oassandrc sate it broadtc". conclude that the author of our poesi derived both names from hie French source. However there is no need to soour the literature of France and Germany for precedents, on the assumption that each and every statement contained in Korla von Cratin - or in any other piece of medieval writing - can be traced back to some identifiable model. The poet may simply be avail­ ing himself of the knowledge and ideas which In his genera­ tion were common property. The same thing applies to that strange creature the “alfurt" of Morocco (1147ff•) whose fur (plumage?) is used for the quilt of the bed. Audiences in the Middle Ages loved to hear about the names, appearance end habits of exotic fauna, and Faral^ quotes many descriptions of beds or other articles of furniture decked with coverings made from the skins of beasts or birds from distant, vaguely Oriental, lands. dome of thsse animals are known to soology, like the leopards whose pelts are stretched over the framework of the bed in flaEll j q f t ( vtnd wag gftft.reg.ket der an / Tier llebarten hiute 112*f.). Others belong to the world of bestiary fable, as when caladrlu. 1. In the chapter on "Le Mervellleux", op. clt., pp, 558ff 114 0 plums are used to stuff a pillow or phoenix feat here 2are woven into a stool-cover* Others again have evidently been dreamed up by the writers themselves, such as the "aindtalos"« whose fur trims the mantle of Brieeie in the Homan de Trots*** or the particoloured "barbioletes" of Chrdtien's ^rec.* or the Armenian "alphaie" of the Homan c d*£seanor» Like all these, the name "alfurt" is a hapax legomenon, and it is fruitless to speculate whether the French or the German poet deserves ths eredlt for its in­ vention* The most we can claim is that the reference to der kdnic von Ktarooh (1148) might well be a reminiscence of Heinrich von Veldeke’s Hneide 733Off.» where Pallas1 horse is said to be a gift from dsr konino van Marroci and the occurrence almost immediately afterwards (U51f«) of the Homan dlEneas* 7467ff. Fartonopier und Mellttr* 1142ff. Benoit de Sa^te-Maure, LeHomandeIroi£ (ed. L. Conetane, BASF., Pari* 1904-12), 13564#?. Bd. W. Poerster (2nd edn., Halle 1909), 6801. He Homan d1Kaoanor (ed. H. Michelant, Bibl.d.lit. Vereins in dtuttgart CLXXVIII, Tdbingen 1886), 16076?. 1* 2, 3. 4. 5. 115 names ilart&go and Dldd bears out thie supposition# Tbs general inf luence of the ^neide on Moris von Crafln is in any case unmistakable* Many other correspondences between the two works have been noted by different critics,*1 and the author of Moris von Cratin himself acknowledges one as­ pect of his indebtedness when in line 1160 he pays explicit tribute to von Veldeke melster Heinrich as a master of des­ criptive writing# Why he ahould thereupon single out for special remark (116Iff*) not the ^neide* with its almost over-lavish use of description, but an inferior production which, if it ever existed at all, has completely perished, is one of the minor mysteries of our text* Even those who believe that the lines relate to a genuine lost work of ¥eldekefa are forced to admit that the subject attributed to it - Solomon on his royal couch ae a target for the arrows of Venus - is a somewhat improbable jumble of Biblical tra- o dltion and pagan mythology# Most scholars in fact now Ife A i L a ff •bK,n ^ 7381: ,$e,, / I ‘ " en itiLsi .613?«I flwrftrnfn. and many other parallel* df~the sane typ*. 2» Cf. 0. Behaghe1'a edition of th* i^ neld*. Introduction, pp. CLIXIIIf. favour the view that misunderstanding, or imperfect memory 9 or a fondness for parading scraps of book-learning in and out of season, or a mixture of all three9 prompted our poet to concoct the whole thing out of his imagination on the basis of a single line from one of Veldeke's lyrics}- 41 jnltme d£ dwano oalomdnft ...1 The later reference to Solomon as a type of wisdom (1336) is purely conventional and nothing can be deduced from it* le ffi.p 66#16* iSee also K* dtackm&nn, ffiBSurg '1%)* p°a ( u n p u b l i ’ -L: 'AJfc; at ioniasert , 117 iit« Tim tn m u t acch^tobs 1 . "Ce noe out nostre livra aprie Que Grace ot de chevalerle lie premier los, et de clergie# Pule vint ohevalerie a Hose Et de la clergie la some, Qui or est an France venue* , Deus doint qu’ele 1 soit rotenue • "Athis und Prof 11 ids ndch rlttereohefte strebten, mit atdten triuwen Xebten, in rltterlloher verdikelt# Mtt ritteraohaft die lant erstreit der kdneo Alexander ••• 0 Nd blflet ein belt in Bihelmlant #.#" The shad ow-warfare of •if* and ’but* and ’maybe’ and ’nevertheless’, which has turned each of the foregoing al­ lusions into a miniature battleground, becomes still more confused and uncertain as the area of dispute increases in siae# No part of Morlg von Oradn has been the subject of so much controversy as the long prologue (1-262) occupy­ ing over a seventh of the entire work, which traces the U Qllgeg. 30ff# 2. Heinrich Ton irreiberg, £ie, /tltterfahrt. dee JohanR-Ygtt Mlcheleperg (ed. A. Bemt, Halle 1906), 26ff.t 40. evolution of chivalry iron its first origins among the Greeks and Trojans through ths Honan and Carolingian em­ pires and so down to the author's own time. All the crit­ ics are agreed in attributing ths bulk of it to the German poet, but beyond that point opinions are widely divergent* bpace forbids a detailed review of every argument and coun­ ter-argument that has beon advanced. Suffice it to say that the problems surrounding this introductory section can roughly be grouped under four headings:- its affinities with other contemporary writings, both literary and histor- i ical, the reason for its seemingly disproportionate length, its connexion with the main theme of the poem, and the ex­ tent to which it may be derived from the French source* Although, these questions are of course closely interrelated, it will be beat for the sake of clarity to treat them sep­ arately. attempts to survey the course of world history retro­ spectively In the light of one cardinal idea or doctrine are by no means confined to the Middle Ages, but the mental climate of that period, with its passion for order and comprehensiveness, was unusually favourable to them* Med­ ieval theologians delighted to look back across the cen­ turies and observe the majestic unfoldin of the Divine plan for fallen mankind through ^atrlarche and prophets, through the life of the Kedeemer and the history of the early church, through the activity of ealnte and mission­ aries, up to their own day. Secular poets likewise could be conscious of an ancient inheritance handed down from the remote past to them and their fellows in a single unbroken line of continuity. This cast of mind seems to have boon specially marked in Germany, where systematic theory has always tended to flourish? and it ie reflected in the number of Middle High German works which begin with an ex­ ordium interpreting successive stages of human civilisation from the standpoint of some clearly-defined and all-embracing principle, whether it be the conception of an over-ruling Providence, as in the Annolled.* or the conception of empire, ae in the Ka1serchronik« or the conception of chivalry, ae in the mterfehrt M s Johaun von Mlchels^egg and above all Sg£lg ▼SB prafiS* During the Middle Agee a knowledge of bygone epochs was derived for the most part from standard authorities, which were relatively few in number and relatively accessible 1. Ed. W. Bulst, Heidelberg 1946 so that medieval accounts of early nistory, however dis­ torted and incomplete they may be as & record of fact, are extraordinarily firm and consistent in their broad outlines* There is naturally a certain amount of disorepancy in mat— Ure of secondary importance - the emphasis may differ# the selection and arrangement of the details may be modi— fied, the guiding aim may not be everywhere identical* But even these variations tend to be governed by accepted convention rather than by the critical choice of the writers concerned* For this reason Lxjla useless to guess at the precise origin of every statement contained in the historical pro- logu* to norig YOU Orafla. ie do not know now well the poet was acquainted with the vernacular literature of his native country, let alone that of France* be do not know how much, if any, of nis subject-matter has been drawn from the would-be scientific annals of historians, or, at the other end of the scale, from those drifting legends about the brave days of old which he could no more exclude from his consciousness than he could stop breathing* be can only say that no one surviving work could have supplied him with all the material in the exact fora in which he has presented it* In other words, we must assume - what after all is only reasonable - that he compiled his Informa­ tion from a number of different sources, some of which at least may no longer be extant* . * A particularly clear example of this blending of sources is the passage dealing with the siege of Troy (9-76)* It is well known that before the Renaissance men relied for their picture of the Trojan War not so much on Homer as on two spurious prose works, written in Latin but purporting to be translated from the Greek, the De excifllo Trolae hlstorla ascribed to Dares the ^rygian, and the Euhemeris belli Trojanl ascribed to Dictys the Cretan. Hach offered a supposedly eye-witness account of the cam­ paign, Dares giving the Trojan viewpoint while Diotys spoke for the Greeks* The historicity of the events they des­ cribed was taken for granted throughout the Middle Ages, and popular sympathy was strongly on the side of the Trojans, from whom not only the Homans but also several races nearer home, like the Pranks, were believed to be descended; while the Greeks, thanks to the testimony of Crusaders and other travellers in the Near Hast, were regarded with sus­ picion if not with positive dislike. So it is hardly surprising that our poet prefers to quote as his ultimate authority the record of Dares rather than that of Dictys. 122 It is unlikely, though not impossible, that he had first-hand knowledge of the Dg excldjo Irojae. and we are safer in presuming that his narrative Is based entirely on medieval versions of the legend. The only full-length treatment which is unquestionably earlier in date than our text is the Homan de Trolo of Benoit de oainte-Muure, written c. 1160-1170, to which the author of Iloriz von Crafln might have had access either directly in the ori- 1 9i inal, or indirectly via hi® Breach source. The ear­ liest German version of the tale of Troy that has survived is Herbert von Pritzlor’a hlet von Trove.^ which is based on the Homan de Trole and which must have been composed some time between 1210 and 1217. If our poet knew and used the hiet von Trove, as seems probableMoris vog must be rather later in date than many scholars would have us believe, but the evidence is not conclusive either way and the question must for the present remain open.^ In 1* This is maintained by W. kiiimanns (Stinger Angelgen. 1895» PP. 407ff•> and by hchroeder in the I 4 edition of eiori',. von Cratin. 2. This modified view is put forward by Schroeder in the edition of 1913» on the basis of an article by 8. Singer in the Zfromhhil. 33, 1909, pp. 729f. ^ 3. Ed. O.K. Pronm&nn (Quedlinburg and Leipsig 1837). 4* Cf. Mj£. 37: Parea. dar &A alt, vaa (U ,n) / Herbert 55 ygq er fl. »lte was ^ evrGgen.. ifyiSJi)* ^ other textual parallele of the same kind. 5. Opinions differ as to whether a Troy romance already existed in Geraany before Herbort's poem; for opposite (continued overleaf) addition to t’ese large-scale productions, he may have drawn on brief summaries of the legend in other works, each as the Annoliede the Kalserohronlk, the ^neile* or the Chronloon give higtoria de duabua civltatlhua of Bishop Otto yon Prolalng (d. 1158).1 On internal grounds wo are certainly justified in concluding that he had more than one fozm of the tradition at hi© disposal. Thus on one occasion we find hia agreeing with Herbert against Baros and Benoit, when he reverses the usual order of Delphebua and Helenus in the list of Frlaa's oonsi- On another occasion he agrees with Benoit against Bares and Herbort, when he makes Bares9 account a running journal of the conflict, in which each day9s events were chronicled during the following night i- footnote continued from previous pagei views on the question see K. Joseph, "Die Zeugniase fdr eine deutsohe Trojadichtuag vor Herbort" (ZfdA, JO, 1886, PP* 395ff») and Q, Baesecke, "Herbort von Fritzlar, Albrecht von Halberstadt, und Hoinrioh von Veldeke" (ZfdA. 50, 1906, pp. J66ff•). 1. Kd. A. Hofmeister (MM. Script, m , Pent.. Hanover 1912). MvC. Herbort 20 Kctor und Paris, Klenus und Deiphebus unde ir bruoder Troilus. 1665 Bar sune hiezsen drl alsusi Kctor, Paris, ^lenusf der fierde hiez Del^hebus, und der funfte Troylus. 124 j !&£• Benoit 37 Daren, der dd mite was, 93 Iciat Daires don ci oes der die naht echreip unde Pu de Trole norris e nes; las Dedens entelt svas dee tagee dd gesch&ch, als era mit ougen ana each, 105 Chaacun Jor ensi I’esere- veit, Come 11 o sen ieus 1# veeit* Tot quant qufll faiseient le jor, 0 en bataille o en estor, Tot escreiveit la nuit apree# On yet a third occasion he agrees with Heinrich von Veldeke against both Benoit and Herbert, when he introduce* andstrus aa a valiant and trustworthy comrade-in-aims of j neasi- 3vC» Veldeke 50 Pandarua und Kneao 7096 Doe hade der hdre Bndas . die w&ren ouch dd vorne twdne re sen dd geld ten, ofte mit some die op elnen tome sdten dd man he Ides were vorhte* op den overeaten h&s« der broader ein hiet Pandarua ••• Unless our poet is reproducing in totp some version v*hich has not been preserved, he met have read round his subject extensively, and this is all the more plausible in that the tale of Troy seems to have held a special fascina­ tion for him* He dwells on it at greater length than any other part of the prologue except the Nero episode, and thrice he hints that he would have liked to give it the fuller treatment It deserved, each t5jae Implying that he le held hack by some factor outside his control: by the sheer magnitude of the theme 3­ 33 Ioh saget iu wol fUr ba* ▼on Troie. van hulfe das? wir mugen es Idsen bellben: e z kunde niemen gar geechrlben. • by lack of skill or perhaps of opportunity!- 71 2e Trole geeohach wunder. das iet oin rede besunder, der lch gerne ein ends ftlnde mlt worten, ob ich kftnde. - and by something for which the MS. has the undoubtedly corrupt freude. emended by Schroeder and Pretael to framed^. 1 9vromede (i.e. unfamiliarity), by Haupt and Stactoarm to broods (i.e. inadequacy)t- 75 ^ar unbo icha dberhaben hAn? das 1st durch fremede getdn. This last phrase t which might have afforded us a valuable clue about the circumstances under which our text was written or couaissioned, illustrates once again the unfortunate tendency of the MS. to break down at the most crucial points. 2. Stackmarm, op. clt.. pp. 46ff. The next phase in the evolution of chivalry is typified by the Greeks and their relatione with der blderbe Alexander (94-102), The historical and legendary exploits of Alex­ ander were common knowledge in both France and Germany by the end of the twelfth century9 and the allusion is couched in such general terms that it might be derived from any one of a dosen sources. It la clear that Alexander is somehow associated with the decline of chivalry among the Greeks, but the phrasing is obscure and a minimum of tex- 2tual alteration would enable it to be interpreted in two very different ways. In one case Alexander would be rep­ resented as a Greek, who won for his fellow-countrymen lands which later, on his death, they lost by their own slackness and unworthineas; in the other he would, more accurately, be represented as a foreign conqueror, who wrested from the Greeks lands which they had formerly sub­ jugated, but were no longer powerful enough to defend* 1* Two twelfth-century Alexander romances, complete or fragmentary, have survived in each country. For a general introduction to the traditions concerning Al­ exander in the Middle Ages, see G, Cary, The fed la ?vai Alexander (Cambridge 1956), 2* It is only necessary to substitute den hrisohen lands (or iaai) for dor toUeljm lpnfla in line 95 (M3, read­ ing! der icrlech/an i-unndiJ, aad to ohange tha puno- tuation slightly in order to transform the whole sense of the passage, . 127 Both concept lone of Alexander were current during the Middle Agee*1 and the precise significance of the passage ie in any case immaterial to its general message — namely, that military ascendancy can only be maintained by discip­ lined effort and self-sacrifice* Another minor problem, arising directly out of the first, is posed by lines 98ff«, especially by the key word nfli- nan slnsat in, nd gernt sle hulde (das let doch ein ungellches leben); man gab in, nd muosene geben.2 If the conquest of Greece by Alexander the Macedonian ie regarded ae evidence that chivalry among the Greeks was then already on the wane, the £&, in conjunction with the change of tenee from the preterite to the present, merely brings out more vividly the contrast between their fonser glory (den hdohvertlgen Krieohen 27) ae vanquishers of the Trojans, and their subsequent humiliation. If the deca­ dence of Greece is envisaged as setting in after the death 1# In the Annolied 209 he le called 1871)i 26776f. ve read that (Alexander) der Srate ta s& SL X M J . A«...jyp4Si.^ .;i.JLe. undertda. For the whole not very Important question, see Stackmann* OP. Pit., pp. 53ff. 2. In the MS. these lines sure even more hopelessly cor­ rupt than the preceding ones, and emendations vary greatly from one editor to another. 128 of Alexander, the ja& followed by a present tense could possibly refer to the poet*e own day, and Hatto1 takes it as a topical allusion to the stoning of Constantinople by Crusaders in 1204, which reduced Greece to the status of a tribute-paying nation. s8 Greece sinks into decay, the heritage of chivalry is transferred to Rose (103-122). The splendours of im­ perial dome and the achievements of Julius Caesar as founder and chief representative of the Empire were facts so familiar in the Middle Ages that there is no need, to postulate def­ inite literary antecedents for our poet*a brief and con­ ventional account. The nrestige of the sternal City was everywhere a living reality, and the author of Moris von Crafln is only following the popular notions of hie time when he sets up Julius Caesar in succession to Hector and Alexander as completing the great triumvirate of the an­ cient world.2 If he utilised any written source, it was probably the Kai aerchronik.^ where dome is described (14315ff•) U A.T. Hatto, "Moris von Craon" (ixmdon Mediaeval studies. I, 2, 1938, 285ff.), PP. 299ff. 2. Hector, Alexander and Caeear were the three heroes of pagan antiquity in the company of ths Mine Worthies. 3. Kd. H.F. Massn&nn (Quedlinburg 1849-54). v as a school of honour* to which young nobles from every nation were sent in order to learn the arts of ohivalry| and where earlier on (245ff») much space is devoted to the career of Caesar* whose conquests reduced all the surround­ ing peoples to a state of obedient submissioni- 294 Iedoch betwano iullus cesar alls ir chraft* Veldeke9s Rneids contains a very similar referencet- 13337 Dat was Jdl jus Cdsar; dat mach man seggen vor wdr dat he der we re ids vsls betwano* The collapse of Rome seems to have stirred the poet9s Imagination more deeply than the overthrow of ttreece or Troy* and some scholars have fslt his picture of the ruined city (228ff«) to be so graphic as to suggest first-hand experience*1 It is certainly possible* but an elegalo mood of Roma fuit* perhaps the earliest instance in Western Kurope of the romantic oult of ruins* was quite widespread 2 at the time even among those who had not witnessed with their own eyes this crowning proof of the impermanence of human grandeur* 1* Cf* R*M* Meyer "Bllgger von Btelnach" (ZfdA* 39f 1895§ pp. 31 8f.)* where the reference to the lampartischer van in line 738 is taken as further evidence that our poet had visited Italy, Unfortunately the passage about the ruins of Rome is corrupt beyond all possibility of accurate emendation* 2« A classic example of this is the elegy of Hildebert of Tour, (Migne, Patrolo^laa curaua coaplatu,. Pari• 1844-55, CUU1, ool. 14091.). In Mo rig von Crafln ths downfall of home, lika its rise, la both ascribed to and exemplified by tha actions of a single individual. As Julius Caesar is a type of the uprightt wise and victorious ruler, so Nero (133-229) is a type of tha degenerate, cruel and selfish ruler, whose viciousness demolishes all that his nobler predecessors hava built up. From the medieval standpoint tfero was therefore doubly abhorrent, not only as tha persecutor of the Christians, but also as the man who was personally res­ ponsible for tha destruction of the Bmpire, The truth of hie orimee was vouched for up to a point by Homan his­ torians like 'lacltus and Suetonius, but ths morbid imagin­ ings of latsr ages had worked upon them until they assumed the monstrous dimensions of a nightmare. By their emphasis on cruelty, sexual perversion and destructive violence, such anecdotes anticipated the horror comic of today, and not even the moral warning supplied by the villain's miserable end could make up for their unsa— vourineas, Nevertheless, aa one might expect, the more lurid they became the more avidly they were relished by popular taste. Although of all the sections in the hie* torioal introduction to Morla von Cratin ths Nero episode ie the least relevant to the main theme of ths poem, and even to th* theme of the introduction itself, it ie spun out to greater length than any other. And the poet's fasein- ted lingering over the subject is matched by the partiality of the scribe, for whom, as the superscription in the H3. plainly shows, Nero monopolised th* foreground of interest. After a general picture of Nero's character (139*142) four instances of his depravity are recounted. He was a homosexual (143f.). Wishing to experience pregnancy and parturition, ho commanded his physician on pain of death to make hia bear a child; the physician, by means of a powder, caused a toad to grow inside the Bmperor's body until the latter, terrified at the approaching prospect of childbirth, compelled him to contrive an abortion (145* 1(9). He had hia mother murdered and her body ripped up, because he was curious to see the womb in which he had lain (180*194)• In order to reproduce ths speetaele of the burning of Troy he ordered Home to be set on fire, while members of his household were forced to fight in th* biasing streets with a band of knights from the olty; thus he brought about not only the ruin of his canital but the wanton slaughter of hie bravest warriors (195*227) 1, See above, p. 2 , not* 4 . It is generally accepted that our poet derived moat of hie material9 including hie account of the attempted pregnancy» the matricide and the burning of Home, from the chapter on Hero in the Kalserchronlk (41Q2ff#)* JM the legends concerning Hero were so widely current in the Middle Ages^ that it would have been an occasion for surprise had they reached him through a single channel only, and the fact that his selection of details differs in several particulars from that of the k^ i nftrqhyonift argues that he must have had access to & second, uniden­ tifiable, source of information. The wholly secular bias of his narrative leads him to omit the persecutions of the early Church, the dispute with Simon Magus, the martyrdom of Haints Peter and Paul, the final madness and suicide of the Hmperor, and the fate of his soul in iiell9 all of which are naturally given great prominence by the clerical author of the Kalserchronllt. On the other hand the tradition of Nero's homosexuality, already affirmed by Tacitus, la passed over entirely in the jMg«3&teSaUt where the pregnancy incident is included with a variant 1* For extensive notes on the medieval traditions about Nero, see Massmann's edition of the Kalaerchronik. Ill, pp, 677ff. ......... 135 ^ ending, in which the actual birth of the toad is used as a crude explanation of the name 'Lateran* (lata rann). Ve must therefore conclude that here9 as in the Troy episode, different versions of the legend have been in­ corporated into a single narrative# As the fall of imperial -tome and the decadence of chivalry go hand in hand, so the renewal of the inspire under Charlemagne brings with it a revival of knightly virtue (250-230)# The reference to Charlemagne (240) and to Noland and Oliver (242) inevitably recall Pfaffe Konrad*e Nolandslied*1 but the names of the Bmperor and at least of these two chief paladins were so widely known y- in Germany that our poet could equally well have heard 2 them from common report# Nor can anything definite be deduced from the somewhat archaic term Kerlingen (238)# Though the great masters of courtly literature usually prefer the name l^ rancriche. which our poet himself employs 1» hd# 0 . Neale (Bonn 1928)# 2# Cf# Keier nelmbreoht (ed# C.K# Gough, 2nd edn#, Oxford M i l l / _ und Oliviers are embroidered on the left side o5 hero's cap,corresponding, significantly enough, to a picture of the siege of Troy on the right side# Both poems similarly stress ths idea of conquest, cf# ■> 241 <, and > prfomi manheit uxArlft / Wtaanp 4MLjm *gA• ')1 Mfts1 0 47| it nay aleo be compared to nflt- gestallen in Parslval IX, 905, and ndUestal.flaa In Meier nelabrecht 64 (probably derived from Wolfram's use of the word). Urbor occurs in Kudrun 679, iii, in Veldeke's tlum 1, 2797, and in arxlval II, 1509* lielt and wig ant are very common in the writings of Veldeke, with his numerous descriptions of battle, and Wolfram, the most virile of the romance-writerst e.g. Knelds 60, 145, 273, 3339, and Parslval I, 143# 334, 515, 1141, eto. Balden ellefl. a stock formula, Is found in 1032, 2, in Athis und ProPhilids A** 49 and 0 20, r - r.:- • and in Ulrioh von ZataikhoYanfa ^aaaelat 3382• Moat significantly of &119 it ia uaad by Ulrich von 1. Bd. C. von Kraus, Mittelhochdeutschea PbungabuoA (2nd roTiaad edn.v Haidelb(>rg lJ26)f No* 3. 2« Kd• K.A, Hahn» Frankfurt 1845* For rsumeroua other examples of "baldaa alien” sea K# Mttllenhoff • V, scherer, Qenkmller deutaoher Poesle und ‘hroea aus_ a«i ednm, reT.Ee Steinmeyarp WerllaWit, p. 130. Lichtenstein, who In his wlnnplleder annloys ths high-flown diction of courtly love, «nd In hie mereh- ln," songs, or Uereiaen. the old ■warlike "hreecology, as In Krausndlenat. Lied XVI, 404, 111 der eohllt wll, HMrtfeft, Clearly it is not possible to draw a hard and fast line of division between the "courtly" and the "heroic" outlook) the two must have overlapped to a far greater extent than is often supposed* But it is interesting to note that except for w&gant* used in 1621 as a convenient rhyme for hant* none of those words is found anywhere else in Horig von Cratin* while con­ versely the main body of the text includes many standard terms of chivalry, such as hdreeoh (285, 1218), lyihflvaechai,* (1310), hdhe.r auot (413), w e r j j(291), tugentllch (398), wlae (285), tuaa (451, 476), dienest (273, 395, 436, 509, 590* etc*)9 which are never used in the prologue* This need not imply that the prologue is more primitive or less courtly than the rest of the work9 but it does argue a certain Incongruity between its subject-matter and that of the principal theme* and the discarepancy becomes still moire striking when one compares the different connotations given to the same word in the two parts of the poem* Hitterachaft or rltterlich occur no fewer than eleven times in the first 250 lines, always with reference to military prowess in some public, usually a national, cause* In the last paragraph of the prologue (251-262) rltterBOhnft is used twice with reference to the service of ladies. In the remaining 1521 lines of the text ritterschaft and rit- terltch each occur once and once only, the former being ap­ plied to the Count's enthusiasm for jousting (911) and the latter to the cavalcade with the ship on wheels (755)* The guotlu freuAe of chivalry at Hone (111) ia the fighting lean's joy in pride and power) on one occasion in the later part of the poem the word seems to bear a similar sense (freude &ne torn 982 applied to Moris' tournament charge),1 but elsewhere we find it in a very different type of context - the freude promised by the Minnelohn (484# 4#5# 487)• the freude of the lover embracing his lady (618), th* freude of people who hear a band of minstrels playing (865) or who enjoy the beauties of springtime (1687# 1695)* The verb twingen (betwinxen) appears three times in the prologue (95# 118, 241)# each time in conjunction with U The MS. reading on goro has been questioned by many critics of the text, including Pretzel, who emends the line to 348* Slff. when he breaks off and embarks on a second lengthy dis­ quisition (289-416), this tine on the ethics of courtly love, thereby once again slowing down the pace of the no­ tion and straining the balance of the composition to its limits* The modern reader may regret that the story, already long delayed, should so soon bs interrupted by what he feels to bs an unnecessary digression, yst the poet would scarcely endorse this view* It is ole&r that he himself is deeply concerned with the problems he discusses, and ths unusually subjective tone he adopts (vs shall later have occasion to return to this point) suggests that he might be writing under the pressure of first-hand exper­ ience* He claims to speak with the common voice (ftfo anri- chat manager hia hi 307), hut hia worda have the unmia- takable ring of personal conviction* This candour and immediacy, though they add to the in­ terest of his reflections, make them the reverse of lucid* vhen baeeecke* commented on "die Undeutllchkelt mhd. Worts, die Welohllchkeit ihrer Syntax, und inabeeondere das 3pringende und Dunkele der Oedankeng&nge in solohen selb- st&ndlgen kinleitungen", the text he had in mind was not 1* In ths article quoted above on Werbort von Pritelar (ZfdA*. 50, 1908, p. 566). Morlg von Graun. but It wen? 1(5 be hard to find a more apt description of this passage. j.he thought is extremely Involved and awkward, the language ie vague and obscure* the ideas are not arranged In any tidy logical sequencef rind the corrupt state of the MS. naturally tends to make confusion worse confounded, so that the interpretation of many lines remains doubtful. nevertheless, when the com­ ponent strands in this tangle of argument are sorted out, they can be reduced roughly to the following sohemet- a) The omnipotence and universality of love* b) The service of love. o) The rewards of love. d) The choice of the person to whom service le given and from whom reward is expected. e) The benefits, moral, social and physical, that accrue from a proper choice. f) The hero of the tale ae a model instance of these principles translated into action. When during the twelfth century the endless poseiblli~ ties of love, both as a range of psychological experience and ae a topic for poets and philosophers, were being re­ discovered in western Kurope, one of the first things that must have struck the votaries of this nsw divinity was its irresistible hold over its victims. Almost the earliest statement about romantic love in medieval German literature,* i the often-quoted conversation between Alminia and lotila in the Kaiserohronlks stresses thist- 4626 Umbe die mlnne let is abir ed getAn, da nemao niht lebendee vor beatAn* - and a recognition of the compulsive nature of passion - twingende minne - became an established commonplace in the doctrines of courtly love* But though no living creature could withstand love, the supreme manifestation of its power was the Influence it wielded over human beings* In the ftiddle Ages the authority cC the Bible had imprinted on people9s minds the firm belief that man had been appointed by &cd to be master over all the works of ills hands,* and the realisation that there existed a force which could re­ duce even the wisest, the noblest, and the best among the lords of creation to a condition of abject servitude was ■ - . ' « calculated not only to stir their imagination, but to gratify the medieval liking for any strong dramatic contrast* Our poet, with his interest in the whole conception of power and conquest, could hardly fall to be impressed by this aspect of lovei- 1* Cf* Thomasln von Zirclaere's jjjel racier Oasl (ed* H* Rdckert, wuedlinburg 1852) 8541ff* > swag vlluget* irftt oagS-SggEgj .wa&_ln Jjer_w ^ de J^cbelbuX jjHfciSii The chief Biblioal aoureea for tliis b-iief were the account of the oreation of Han (Genesis 1 , 26-30) and Psalm 8, 7-9: constitulsti tuaruBj^ , omnia BubjjcT-ai^ub 165 307 M sprichet maneger hie bl, sw&z lebendes df der erde si, ez el vilde oder zam, dee mtlese ein gehdraam dem man und ainem liatei dee wdnde ouch lch 6 lch wiete dee dea niht wol wesen mao* Mitine twingst sunder alec elnen man noch bee an ateete danne ein kelser taete* . Seeking for words in which to convey their sense of the dominion of mlnne* it was natural that writers should turn to that form of lordship moat familiar in their own day, and represent love as a feudal suzerain with total rights over his subject vassals* On two occasions our poet, describing the effects of love, has recourse to a technical term of feudalism - the phrase tuon und Idn* once it is applied to Horiz himself as a loyal servitor of love i- 317 Ala twang ouoh disen man ein wdn, daz er muose tuon und l&n swaz ia diu Minne gebdt, ez waere gemaoh oder ndt* Later in the poem it is used of the countess who, when her waiting-woaan pleads with her to acknowledge lore1® sover­ eignty:- r i. Ulrich von Lichtenstein uses the phrase several times in its proper meaning, e.g. Frd. 503, 27ff*i Uftgre* ich bin iu undert&a; / ioh sol duroh lu tuon...und._laq />i l a . an: a lu c A pnj ^ and again in I WlT afl.zen. l» a In undartin. / duroh la .Wldia 1368 au enlaezet uns der alte site, wim mdezen tuon unde Ida, ale noch le wlp hdnt gstdn ••• awi© unbetwungen ir aoeh sit, ir wlzzet doch daz Minns let meister aller sinne* - boastfully repudiates her allegiancei- 1373 nd fttrhte deheine ir meisterschaft, das si mit bet© Oder mit kraft an mir lamer gesige* - and thus brings down on herself the due penalty of dle-» oning fealty to an overlord. the extent to which love asserted absolute sway over its subjects was further typified by various conventional images, of which our poet, both here and elsewhere in the text, uses some of the most commons the fire of love (321ff») the burden of love (345ff*)* the sickness of love (546ff«), the fetters of love (468f«), the snares of love (1770f#) Anyone who entered so rigorous a service must therefore study how to perform the obligations that will be required of him, and three times, though not in any systematic fashion, the poet draws attention to the distinction between true and false mlnne. In the first plaoe, the service of love, like any other form of unconditional sworn duty, was not easy or comfortable. Klnnedienet. no leee than ritt«raeh^ft. de­ manded strenuoue exertion (297) and a willingness to endure saorificee (326ff.). Selfishness and sloth were as repre- uensible in the lovsr aa in the fighting man. notwith­ standing all theee tribulations, no true lover could regret having committed himself to the venture, for the joy of attainment far outweighed the price that had to be paid in patient and devoted striving (29Off*).3, "hereas those - and they are many, he says, (Manager man h£t eoihen site 387) - who renounce love's service altogether because they shrink from the trials and hardships that await them (388ff*) are fools (ane sin 391), in that they prefer the certainty of loss to the risk of h&s&rding their all for so great a prise (391ff•)• As he never tires of emphasising, the one indispensable virtue in love, that virtue which more than any other made once so costly and so worth-while, wae SfcMSfti- 341 Swer minuet unde einne hat, dem wil ich geben einen Hit, das er unstaete fllehe und slch an staete aiehe. Without claiming that the poet elevated Kinne to the level of a religion, like Gottfried von Utrnssburgf there may well be half-conscious echoes in these lines of the Christian Idas of "no cross, no crown", ex­ pressed in Biblloal statements such as that of St* ’'aul in Homans VIZI, 181 aglg&jap sn*w ffi condjgaas pasBlonsa hujue tomporle ad futuraa glor: - and the word is reiterated more than half a dosen times in the course of the passage (295# 290# 315# 330# 344# 356# 417)• Staete did not mean constancy or fidelity in the sentimental sense* It is a quality of the mind or will rather than the heart* It meant perseverance# steadiness of purpose# a refusal to be shaken or discouraged by ob­ stacles and delays# a determination to stand to one's pledged word and fulfil one's undertakings• Only staete could carry a man through the protraoted effort needed be­ fore he finally reached the goal of his endeavours* But again# as the poet points out# many are unwilling to take th* hard way In low* lanataete lat in der w*rlde vll 348), and not even the spectacle of the rewards conferred on the faithful can cure them of their folly# any more than the sight of a convicted thief on the gallows can indues his former os&panions to mend their ways (349ff*)* The exercise of staete was not confined to the manj it was equally incumbent on the woman* That is# the es­ sence of ralnne lay in & mutual contract of trust and loyalty between two people# each of whoa was under a binding obli­ gation to the other* While the staete of the man was displayed in the performance of service# that of the woman consisted in the requital of service* True# love brought its own reward up to a point, though our poet interprets this reward in a rather more external sense than the olaesic apologists of Mlnnedienst. Por him it was not so much a matter of spiritual or moral ennoblement as of heightened social prestige. A knight who, like Moris, was renowned for the steadfastness of his devotion enjoyed widespread public acclaim (djeneat h&t min lop braht / vom land. land., / dft map mlch fflr guot erkaad. 436 ), and in particular the approbation of all worthy ladies (fire Ton /:uoten wiben 401)* However, even these benefits, and the increased self-respect and feeling of well-being that resulted from them ihflher rouot 413)# paled into insig­ nificance beside the reward on which the lover's chiefest hopes were set, that factor which alone made hie service desirable, or even possible, the Minnelohn in the specific meaning of the term. this word 16n runs like a refrain through the discourse on love and through ths long intro­ spective soliloquy of the hero that comes almost immediately afterwards.1 Without the ldn the knight's achaden und 1« biabe Ion wae a l sin d insert (277 - accepting Pretael's emendation of this 1 in*T [ % l l \ m - K £ ¥ A 7u aaa im jSel^ nenjatige U a3l> (4U^, IrJLAn.iflt. arbelt (297) became virtually a waate of energy and outlay) its attainment repaid all hie labours and furthermore en­ hanced hie honour in the eyes of the world* Accordingly the lady who aocepted service and then withheld the recom­ pense, however reluctant she might be to grant it, however much she might fear to jeopardise her good name, wae guilty of a gross breach of faith* Whether the loverfe expectations were fulfilled or no thus depended largely on the probity of the other party in the agreement, so that the choosing of a liege lady be­ came a consideration of prime Importance (Suer dlenet und g*di«nan mac. / d»g dien* eg «g ba>t« / und dl man U geldnen afore 406ff*)» ->he was not destined to be held in affection for her own sake, or even valued except imper­ sonally as an object of pursuit, and the dictates of ths heart counted for little in the choice* Prudence, good counsel, rational reflection were felt to be much more dis­ criminating arbiters of a lady’s worth* In this manner ftoris selects the lady of Beaumont as a suitable recipient of his devotion*- 266 Und rieten ia die sinne das er diente sailer stunt der graevlnne von Be&ount, wan er deheine werder vant* The one? thing required of her was that she should be . an expression that is somewhat misleading at first sight, for gflete did not imply "goodness", nor even "kindness"« like the modern German "Gfite", but rather "worthiness"• hence she was not so much loved as esteemed in striot proportion to her deserts. The conviction that merit la women can inspire virtue in men was only natural in a so­ ciety which was eagerly groping its way from near-barbarism towards an appreciation of the graces and refinements of llvlngt and it belongs to the very earliest stratum of no­ tions about courtly love. It is already put into ths mouth of Xotila in the Kaiserchroniki- 4628 dwer rehte wirt lnnen vrumir w£be minne ... die vrouwin maohent in gnuoge hovesc unde kuone. and it quickly became accepted as an essential princiols in the doctrine of minne. one of the surest proofs of gtlete was precisely a readiness to overcome fears and scruples and to confer the Minnelohn in generous and hon­ ourable fashions- 414 Biu guoten gebent hdhen muot ... den sal ze rehte ein saelic man dlensn, der gedienen kan. But just as «uotiu wip had it in their power to con­ fer noble benefits, so boesiu wip corrupted and demoralised the men who were so senseless as to seek for reward at their hands 2­ 409 Vil swaohe ldnsnt boeslu wlp| si maohent sfile und lip den aannen dioke unmaere, und maneger freuden laere, Ouot signifies "estimable" rather than morally good, and in the same way boese signifies "unworthy of respect* rather than morally bad, Boeslu wlp are to be shunned be­ cause they bestow the reward too cheaply and so undermine the whole concept of service} they introduce a mercenary element and so debase the tone of the relationship to the level of a commercial transaction} they tempt the man to snatoh at the momentary gratification of the senses and so weaken his capacity for staete. The problem of false mlnne is treated in 359ff»9 an exceptionally difficult and controversial passage 9 where the poet9 e inability to carry through a train of abstract Reasoning has resulted in such confusion that many critics believe the MB, text to be incomplete, though opinions are divided ae to where the lacuna actually occurs,^ However, 1, Schroeder places the lacuna after 3749 Wlllmanns after 365, The present writer agrees with Pretssl that the MS, text can be made to give a connected sense as it stands. the general sense of the linee is fairly clear* The two partners in this shameful dealing which* says the poet* is so common nowadays (in der werlte Tert 361)* and which does such damage to the cause of true love (dlu scaotmr -rij verhert 362)* are tipple und irre (367) - whether these words are epithets ortsrsonifled abstractions is immater­ ial to the argument* That is* the sensuality of the man (tipple) and the wantonness of the woman (irre) are drawn to each other by mutual attraction and thereby tend to be­ come aggravated (ttppjger alia alt 575). nevertheless it is better that suoh people ehould keep to eaoh other's an- psny ( si sint aber nooh baa genelne 374) since they are beyond praying for (fttr die hoesen ioh nlcht bitet / die tuon ala lr reht el 370f.), and the poet's main concern is that ths taint should not spread to those vho sure still unoontaninatsd by it (das si sot dsn guoten vlrrel / wan flit, XS.rafl.ai.qh 368f.). The most conspicuous symptom of this depravity lies in the fact that the woman is willing to accent payment for her favours and the man is willing to give it* thus reversing the normal process of ths Kinnelohn (wan sie nimet und er git 379)* All the same* euch women are* in the poet's opinion* leee blameworthy than the men who encourage them, for he admits that he himself might be per­ suaded to do for remuneration (durch alete 377) what he would newer consent to do if it involved him in material loss (aolt ioh darumbe geben guot 379). Acting thus» a man is doubly base, in that he is responsible both for his own and for another person's degradation (sd ist ir laeter gwtvalt. / der mit guote laster. gilts* 382f.)s and he is doubly foolish, in that he loses both his honour and the price of hie pleasures (e« ist mlssetdt. 7 swer 6re duroh gelflate ldt 385f.). His bargain is indeed a worthless one (disen marketnaagggiL schiltfft 384). What does the poet mean by venal love of this kind? It ie unlikely that he is thinking of traffic with profes­ sional prostitutes. Irre is normally the antithesis of 1 2 ataete. and the expression lrriu wip. like its English equivalent wild women.^ wae a standard medieval designation 1. Cf. Hartmann's Iweln. 2890fft sin win, die man hflt erKafrt / ip alafl 8>j^tein_muotet / ftfaB .ffglber dren; /.man qo^ Mgfct .wiE.und_,an ltln$. 2. Cf, Freidank's Baacheldenhelt (ed. M, Oriimn, OSttingen I860), 48, 9ft lrrlq, wi.p.jcorn. tmfle... spil,, /. .d.ltft agqfrfflt tumher liuts vll. 3. An elewenth-oentury preacher, in a sermon published by Max foerater in Anglia Xhll, 1918, pp. 152ff., des- cribss how wilde wimmen ■» ao.lme 1 rai_contrei£ sing love-songs in the dance. The phrane even survives into balladry. In "lord Thomas and lady Margaret " (Child, lo. 260, A.3.) ths girl follows her cruel lover to the greenwood and is driven away: Co h^ ft,. that wild woman. / Oo hunt her far from ms. 175 A T~' for women of lax morals, but not necessarily courtesans* bove on these terms was Ignoble not simply because of the ingrained distaste of chivalric culture for anything that savoured of trade and barter, but also because such women were for the most part of a social rank far below that of the man who stooped to purchase their favours. Our poet himself admits in their defence that their shamelessness is often a result of poverty (els maohet ndt&urft bait, 381). hie attack seems therefore to be directed primarily against the casual dalliance of knights with girls of in­ ferior standing, in other words, against whet is commonly known as nledere Minns. In aledere Minns a gift, usually a belt or embroidered purse or article of dress rather than money, was taken for granted ae the price of the girlvs acquiescence. Occasionally the man had not the wherewithal to gain his ends, like Steinm&rt- JJer ich h&n d£ her geeungen, diust ein kluoge dienerinne. ndch ir re mlnne h&n ich vil gerungen. Gelungen 1st mir niht an ir, 1 wan si wolte guot von mir. 1, Bart80h, I»l.d.rdlchtar« LXXVI, 127ff. Occasionally the girl*a virtue ie proof against all bribes s- •Bellei voillles que vostre amor solt mole; Je voa donrai amoniere de sole*9 •sire * # diet la bergiere# - ,Ji,ai eolng de voe juwalx ... Kalels vos anf ke hobins ne voe vole* 1 Li biaus# li douey a cui mes cuera s'otroie.9 More usually she provea compliant. So !feldhart9a village wenches twice boast of the presents their lovers have brought them - one a red belt with a glass buckle# dan .IMUMff. fitter mi.r d* ,h1 der werite In ain gemfleta. hietmar 58, I6f. j loh h&na erkorn tie alien wtben. Hausen 50, 51), and aha la ehoaan for har daaarta (man soldi# bldarban wad dla guoten / £ . U m Diatmar 53, 31f.? man aol uiflfifl MaaanJHaiio / und nilnnen ralnlu vio. Johanadorf 88, 57f.» allaiwolwert dag wan el mlnne. Hausen 50, 22). She joys of lore can only be attained by one who ie willing to en- dura trial and Buffering (ioh harts vll^t ... / vie nlnna eln aaelic arbelt vaera. Rietenburg 18, 25f.| ver adhte hdp grftaa frOlde dne kuaber? / ndoh aolher avaar# ■Em e. loH alia ait, iiauaen 44, If.), and thia la impossible without the virtue of etaete (unataetlu frluntaohaft mac hat wankelen «uot» Meinloh 12, 18f.). etaete le required not only of the man (m^herae A",t tr..to»W« ( Wtf <>Mh atfte^ e ,ai> Haumaa 50, 15f.» (ioh) blute ir ataatan dleneat mln. Rietenburg 18, 25), but also of the woman (aieh halaant sine tugsnde / dag ioh vll ataeta mlnne SflSRS.* Meinloh 14, 52f.l ioh wll in lemer ataeta aln. / w J M s sir grdaer arabe.it geldnen nfloh dam wlllen ain. Dletmar 38, Ilf.) The reward of service ie kept firmly r l* v (doch lat eln alte der nlemea zimet. / avar dieneat m SS l& Ba l njsai. Heinrich von Rugga 104, 19f. J d&a..ft T ** dlaea arm« g3 rehte gtt«tlIon* g«Ut. Meinloh 14, Ilf.| 40 wol mlch lletxs d*a loh M o j uab*vang»a. i>ietwar 36 , 23f.] As chivalric culture mounts towards its highest peak of literary achievement these rather more earth-bound no­ tions tend to drop away* They have no place in the works of ths great masters of courtly lyric and romance, all of whom were in their very different ways men of strongly idealistic temper# But the evolution of eourtly litera­ ture is like the trajectory of an arrow shot from a bow* nee the highest point of flight is passed and the momen- turn starts to fail, the pull of gravity makes itself felt and the downward curve begins* So in the Mlnnesang of ths post-classical period the old sensual streak comes out again, and once more we find the cyole of kleeen - arebeit staete - genflde - gtlete - ldn, with its novelty now faded, and its original enthusiasm a little dimmed, but even more uncompromisingly insistent on an equal balance between the claims of both partners in the relationship* The writings of Ulrich von Lichtenstein afford oer- haps the most perfect illustration of this, for not only does he enunciate the theory of courtly love in his lyric poetry, but he has also given us a graphic, though prob­ ably largely fictitious,* account of how he upheld them in actual practice* His pseudo-autobiography, in which 1* The authenticity of Ulrich*s narrative has been in­ vestigated in detail by d . Becker, Plchtimg In Ulrich v, !;!chtenete Vi * s Frauendltagt THalle 1888). 186 T quixotic idealism and business-like calculation, solemnity and ironic laughter, the world of fantasy and the world of fact are jumbled together in a single kaleidoscopic medley, provides the most complete and lively picture we possess of a Minneverhtltnls according to the xulea of the game, and we may note that it follows very much the same course ae that of our hero# Ulrich likewise professes an ardent faith in the value of MJ^edlenat; ai.jtefaeflt.i eg #1 &ar »e dren /. da§ hflch fieauotea fitters lip / dlene undo verbe uab verdlu \rjp, (21, 18ff.) In spite of the hardships that he knows he must undergo (Nideriu mlnne# an freuden tdt / 1st er» dea M is. M L£SS±e$jL.£ ft i ftt_.diy. Mhe. 3 M * i. M S & v p k M t &&£. Mg. *§2£m RflyiRtl, /. Sie j^ tjiprge.,, vafl. freuden rich. Lied III, 59, Iff.). Accordingly he chooses one lady with care as the object of devotion, the lady her­ self of course not being consulted in the matter# However, having decided that she and no other is to be the guiding star of his life (D6 snraoh min herse wider mlchs / 'guoft, ssssHsjLj !lkM . «!*»»* xro»*n gsfaa / and ir se dieneat immer leben, / das sol disiu Trows sin.1 5, 13ff#), he proceeds to perform at great expense and trouble 1* This and the following references are taken from the to himself various unsolicited exploits on her behalf, in which he combines extravagant humility towards her with invincible boldness toward® everyone else. He also remains unswervingly faithful to her, and when the sight of a tioularly beautiful woman once tempts him to falter in his loyalty hie staete promptly recalls him to his duty (Dd ich * 1 an voa hertaen aaoh. / diu gtaete tain s* «uo mlr p^r>iob: / I s l e ..gft?-. xXs., aa? . wfta. .4.a.s s S a L l j»m Jti.U M ..l&i M . 3X2Za&.A&Q3.. t t.f., /. . tm Mai dtp, g^oX l**...8SiX. S S X S A \tJ . iffA aaatate dir adlher dings niht.' 281, Iff.). At last he judges that the moment has come for him to claim his reward and he requests it of her in public with the most devastating frankness (sol mioh mtn kunft her niht gefroaen. / dag ich iu gollge hi. / sO hln loh lamer vreuden vrt. 5W» 24ff.| fl& 1&. Jfl -I»f.Sa Wdsp. eta, L daz lofe M .M * M » / ai,8. ,U<»a, .Itt.JtlaUoh .gftttte -flit 362, 22ff.). The lady, who has been an unwilling participant in the affair from the start, rejects his demands, though her waiting-women who are present at this scene intercede for him (fnfl seht# vrows. Mia lr gevart. / sfl daa ir. ▼rove, lwer gre havart.* 359, 19f. $ »iat In gonleaen. vrowe nln. / das er lu kan 36 stoete ein.* 374, 19f.), and assure hia that all will t># well if he Is oatlent (»n., .d.ft* gar aj!.mtn..Ua, / 49 nag Igft dag wll werde alp / ti frown In dag hertg. mla. 439. 22ff., 440, 3ff.). Despite all these dramatic posturings Ulrioh is by ^ no means such a slave to courtly notions as appearances would suggest. His affection - as distinct from his adora­ tion - is plainly reserved for his wife, and many times when his tourneying journeys bring him within reach of home he slips away;- 318 9 23 suo der vil lieben konen minf diu kdnde mir lieber niht ges£n9 swie ioh doch het fiber minen lip se vrowen dd ein ander wlp. There is real warmth in his account of one such flying visiti- 222f 5 Diu guot enpfle mich alsd wol9 also von reht ein vrowe sol enphdhen ir vil lieben man • •• si each mich gern; ale tet lch sie* mit ktlssen mich diu guot enphie. 189 ^ 222, 13 Diu reine mich Til gerne each, ait freuden het ich dd gemaoh und wunne une an den drltten tac# - and he affirms the more solid ideals of conjugal loyalty with no less conviction than the romantic aspirations of 251, 22 eln biderbe man sol sin guot wlp reht haben als sioh selben gar# He is far from believing that the Mlnnedame has unchal­ lenged rights over her servitor, and he permits himself9 indirectly, one or two very dry remarks on ths subjeot of llege-ladles in general, as when he makes a messenger says- 327, 21 'die frowen sint vil wunderlloh# si wellent, das man staeteolioh ir willen tuoj swer dee niht tuot ^ geln dem sint si niht wol gemuot#' - a daring assertion that is allowed to pass unrebuked# In other words, the lady remains on her pedestal only as long as the knight thinks fit to keep her there, and when Ulrich's prlds and sense of justice are injured he retal­ iates quite as violently as Moris# Our poet laoks the sparkle and individuality of Ulrich; he is more concerned with the social and ethical than with the romantic and aesthetic aspects of Minnedlenst; but ^ both Moris von Crafln and Frauendlenst are without question products of the same general climate of opinion# Bach shows an undisguised conflict between exalted ideals and everyday practice, between generosity and cal­ lousness, between self-dedication and self-interest* Bach shows a tendency to lapse from the high-flown into burlesque - the episode of the rendezvous in Frauendienat (stanzas 1124ff*), like the bedroom scene in feoriz von Crafln* borders on caricature, and even the tournament des­ criptions in both works rsveal unexpected touches of parody* Bach presupposes in its main characters a complete disre­ gard of moderation and restraint - neither Ulrich nor Moriz nor their respective ladies would, one feele, rate a&ze^ very high in their catalogue of virtues* Similarly none 2 of the four seta muoh store by triuwe * which is to the heart what staete is to the mind or will, for in each case the bond that unites the lovers is no more than a bargain of conventionalized desire and conventionalized surrender* Finally, both works turn on a fundamentally straightforward issue| neither pretends to be subtle or paradoxical or intellectual in its approach, and though each deals with 1* The word m&ze never occurs in ths main narrative at all (unadze is used once in the Hero episode (218))* 2* The word triuwe only occurs twice in the whole poem* both times as the formula mit trluwen. which appears once in the discourse on love (300) and once in the dialogue between Moriz and the waiting-woman (1518)* 191 * ossub in love, neither le an example of what we now imply by "casuistry". une must naturally be wary about claiming insight into the truth of a past age9 but this double testimony suggests that the level of vision represented by our text may well correspond to the veritiee of ordinary ohivalrio existence. For though the relationship of literature to life is another sphere where the explorer in retrospect must proceed with the greatest caution, all the evidence seems to indicate that ohivalrio reality and its literary expression did not follow an Identical curve of development, but were separated by a gap, comparatively narrow at first, considerably wider during the Blflteseit. and gradually closing again during the post-classical period. In other words, while poetic idealism might for a time become air­ borne, life itself oontinued to keep its feet flxmly planted on the ground. If this is so, we are perhaps entitled to see in Moris and the counteas an authentic picture of the normal atti­ tude of ohivalrio society towards Hlnnedienst. Jke a study in human reactions it rings extraordinarily true. On one hand we have the average knight (if such a term be permis- aible), the Chevalier moyen eeneuel. willing to conform to the custom of hie day and subscribe to whatever ideals be­ fitted his 8tationf though interpreting them in terms of etiquette rather than any transcendental aspirations9 will­ ing to harness his personal ambitions to the cause of love9 willing even to concede a genuine value to moral endeavour in the name of love9 yet always retaining his ultimate free­ dom of action and hie sense of primacy as against the woman. On the other hand we have the countess f pursued with her reluctant consent and more than half against her wishes9 loath to risk betrayal and disgrace9 because die man win* unataete (1353) and their noble professions are not always , to be trusted^ yet still pleasurably ooneoious of her power and unable to refrain from putting it to the proof beyond its appointed limits* It ie a relationship based on tension and9 unsupported by respect or liking or even common sympathy9 it can only lead to strife and estrangement* How much our poet's reflections on love may owe to any precise literary model we cannot tell* On grounds of date alone we can ezolude frauendienat from ths list of writings by which he couldjhave been influenced 9 in spits of the many affinities between the two works* Ae we have 1* Hartmann discusses this selfsame point in the H&ohlein. 2 1 7 f t m already seen, he certainly knew Veldeke'o Hnelde and some critics believe that he knew and used Hartmann * e Mchleln.1 We may also assume that he waa in some measure acquainted with the lyrics of the Minnes&rager. especially those of Rhenish poets like Hausen. But both his language and his thought can be paralleled so widely that it is impossible to assign them to any one definite source. Indeed he may simply be drawing on the phraseology and ideas that were in general currency at the time quite Independent of literature. They were, of course, equally current in France; every line in the discourse on love and in Moris' soliloquy on love (426-523) could be matched with its French equivalent. Nevertheless, though the latter may well be derived at any 2 rate in part from the original French version of the text, 1* Cf. Bech, jufdPh. 29, 1896, I69f. There are quite a few verbal correspondences between the two poems whioh would appear to bear out this theory; e.g. MvC. 1021f• s y&«.K JESL Ass telalfSMU geaohtidea and Bttchl. 209*.: ob lch vaere SSflchjldtflf. HyO. 3951▼on d,r kriatenl^p-fi^ g ftld.iH __ , _ mtn hell and Bftohl. 249: fr. unde .In hell 2. More than one of the "courtly** fabliaux or the Hals contains monologues of a very similar type (e»g» Guillaume au Faucon. MR. No. XXX?, 139ff•, and the Ha4 de ITQrabre. edT J. Orr. Edinburgh 1948, 152ff«); tSe style of the soliloquy is perceptibly different from that of the discourse, being much less sententious and much more fluent and rhetorical; it is even possible to guess at one or two of the original French rhymes lying juat below the surface cf the German, e.g. prison/ 469f.; tort/confort. 495f.; pea, Wbegang. the foimer seems to be wholly an interpolation by the German poet. Its didactic tenor* its touch of pedantry* Its honesty* its moral seriousness* its very unwieldiness and awkwardness all mark it as his work. It has been inserted bodily into its context* with ths joins at the beginning and the and still plainly visible (289* 416)* and it could be lifted away without disrupting the con­ tinuity of the narrative in the slightest. More conclusive still than any of these is the extremely subjective flavour that pervades it. The poet may occasionally* as we have shown* laugh at some of the follies and absurdities of Mlnpedlenet in practice* but the principles themselves art sacred* and though a hundred other people have already said the identical thing in identical words, for him they are still true and significant. Nowhere else in the poem is the word ich used with such conscious force* as though the writer had identified himself so completely with his theme that he could not refrain from setting his personal seal of affirmation to every statement t- 312f• des wande ouch ich i ich wiste das des niht wol wesen mao. 342 dtm wil ich gebsn einen rdt. 350 den geliche ich den dleben. 359 Ich mdhte iu vll hin abe sagent 360 loh muog eln ancter dine kl&gen* 370 fttr die boeeen ioh niht bite* 377 ioh taete ouch duroh miete* 393ff.lch salts se gewlnne ewenn ich vorderlicher mlnne ▼on dienate Oder dre duroh min hell ervdrbe rehte ldnes teil* Like any good preacher he inoludee himself in hie own message (flag selbe sprlohe ich an aloh 397), but his aud­ ience is equally present to hie consciousness* It le as though he were haranguing them face to face9 urging hie convictions upon them (ir suit wissen das fflr wdr 328) f offering them advice (Swer minnet unde sinne hdt / dem w ^ loh geben einen rdt 341f.), inviting the* to follow hi* argument (loh eaae lu wle sie sint tenant 366), Such ex- pressiona are more than mere formulae with no other function than to fill out the line or supply a rhyme* The subject9 like the tale of Troy9 is genuinely dear to the poet1# heart Ufih. jfflnWt i-VL.yj-1 Mft. ab« 359). One would give a lot to know what lies behind this at­ titude; whether he le speaking from first-hand experience ae well as first-hand conviction; whether hie views were inspired by the story of Moris and the countese or whether9 conversely, the story was chosen because it illustrated hie views. But whatever else he may owe to hie source, this passage at least he has made entirely his own* 3. ♦Farewell,# ehe said, *ye maidens all, And shun the fault I fell in; Henceforth take warning by the fall Of cruel Barbara Allen*1 As the German poet ushers in his tale with a double prologue, so he also furnishes it with an epilogue* About the provenance of the last eight lines there can be no doubt whatsoever, for in them he explains the difficulties of German as a medium for rhymed verse composition, and apologises for the Inadequacy of his skill The present writer would go further and contend that a good part of the previous fifty lines ( f rom 1726 onwards) 1, Though such deprecatory formulae are found at all per­ iods in medieval literature (see J* tfchwietering, hie p— tttsionn.l nfod. Dlc.htMg, G8tting.n 1921) they tend.d to become increasingly frequent during the post-olassioal decades; V* Rehm in an article entitled "Kulturverfall und spdtmittelhochdeutsohe Bldaktik" (ZfdPh* 52, 1927# 289ff*) says on p. 506 that, during the Bpigonenzeit. wFormein fftr die eigene dichterlache Unfanigkelt unet geistige Unsuldnglichkeit gegen vereinselten fr&heren Gebrauoh sich immer mehr hJLufen". However, in the caee of Moris von Cratin the words might well be some­ thing more than a formula, for the poet has clearly not found the task of metrical composition an sasy one* must likewise be attributed to him. Here we are on much less certain ground than with the historical introduction or the discourse on love* but one or two suggestive facts can be adduced in favour of this conclusion. The episode is a very brief one* It opens with the countess standing forsaken and dejected at her window bewailing her fate9 yet compelled to admit that the fault is hers alone* Her waiting-voman by chanoe overhears her and the two engage in a dialogue which gradually leads up to a final peroration by the countess* The waltlng-voman9 though pitying her distress (1739f») reminds her mistress that she had been forewarned what would be the consequences of her harshness (1740-42)» and the countess admits the truth of this (1743)* regretting bitterly9 though alas9 too late9 that she had not heeded the advice of her faithful confidante (1733-37)* She acknowledges herself guilty of two grievous offencest she has rejected sound and loyal counsel (1756-61) and sns has claimed for her sex the sole prerogative in love (1762- 65)• **ow her life's happiness is forfeit (176df«) and she has no choice but to endure the just penalty of her misdoing (1770f*). Finallyf turning to the audience and speaking as it were with the voice of the poet9 she presents herself as a living example of the pride that goes before a fall9 exhorting all lovers to take warning by her and beware lest they stumble into like folly and suffer a like punish­ ment i- 1T72 *von diu rdt ich in alien, ever staeticliener tainne hinnen fdr beginne, das der an minen kumber eehe und httet das im alsam geaehehe*9 Three things about this passage indicate that it ie largely the work of the German poet* In the first place there is the heavily didactic tendency; the moral - and it ie a moral entirely consistent vith the vieve expressed in the discourse on love - must be driven home at all costs, even to the point of making the eountese publish an explicit recantation of her errors* In the second place, the tone of these lines is quite different from either the racy vigour of the bedroom scene or the elegaic charm of the Vil.' /-v•(£ countess9 soliloquy in the spring davn* Narrative has given way to abstract argument, poetry has given way to sober wisdom* The style too, as with all those seotions of the text for which the German poet is most probably res­ ponsible, shows a certain awkwardness and confusion which has evidently perplexed the scribe of the MS*, or one of his predecessors, and has resulted in several corrupt readings 1* do editor has yet succeeded in making fully satisfac­ tory sense of 1744ff*, and the N8« readings of both 1761 and 1778 are quite unintelligible as they stand. In the third place , there is the importance of the rdle assigned to the juncfrouwe. The development of her character from the conventional uucele or meachine of chivalric literature in France, half soubrette, half go-between, into a highly effective 11 to the personality of the heroine is perhape the Oernmua poetfs most successful contribution to his t h e m e S h e stands between the lovers, by far the most sympathetic character of the three and the only one who shows herself capable of positive kindliness and goodwill. Towards Moris she be­ haves with a warmth and loyalty that contrast strongly with o the haughty coldness of the countess} she pleads his cause with eloquence, she braves her mistress' wrath on his behalf, and she is moved to sincere regret at ths down­ fall of his hopes. Towards the countess, even after the churlish and unjust treatment she has received at her hands, she can still feel compassion, and she grieves for her grief (1729-33t 173©f.). Of her alone it can be said! (ml) tete rehte ala mem sol (1672). 1* One might compare the way in which the character of Lunete in Hartmann's I we in has been expanded into a full-length portrait, carefully and tenderly drawn, 2, Although she normally uses the courteous ir when con­ versing with Moris, by an unusually delicate stroke of artistry the poet allows her to lapse into the intimate du as she addresses the sleeping knight (1296-130TT. But the poet also uses her as a mouthpiece for his own opinions and hence, according to his belief, for the opinions of all right-thinking people. Karlier in the poem she forecasts the verdict of society (1 awenne die acaado / erveft after land.. / ad kowet Ar nixuner mgre / yiaer an luw.r eg.* 1505ff.)$ when the offence has be«n committed she is there passing sentence of condemnation (»mtn frouwe hfit mlaeetgn / des al lamer nuog achaden hdai / Ay fr** J X £re jn o r lo r n J ^ A iJ ^m sL llS shSE 2 2m ' 1407ff.){ and now in the closing scene she is there again at her mis­ tress1 side to see her judgement vindicated (9ich sa^et iu j . ai#-...wfirhelt; / dfl moht ir dea geloufren nl,.t. / §6 wj,gaejfc flooh daa lchg Iu rlet' 1740ff.). If ve are correct in assuming that all these traits are characteristic of the German poet rather than his source one other passage occurring slightly earlier in theltext can also be laid to his account - the little parenthesis 1671-78 It is quite out of place in its present context, for it breaks the thread of the narrative between the counters1 first monologue (1651-70) and the reverdle which should follow on inuaefl lately (»ltE waa cn der atunde ... 1679). The brief end abrupt allusion to the waiting-woman in 1671f« is a somewhat clumsy anticipation of her second and more important appearance on the stage in the final dialogue* 201 And the only reason why this passage seems to have been Introduced at all is to prepare the way for the moral to be hammered home in the concluding lines, by holding up the figure of the junofrouws as an example of the loyal friendship that in moments of disaster is ready with good counsel beforehand and sympathy and help afterwards# Beyond this it is impossible to tell exactly how far the German poet has adapted or expanded his source, and how far he has added completely new material* I'here are no oleaz^cut lines of division as, for instance, in the case of the discourse on love* But although the French original may well have ended with the lady lamenting her sad plight 2 oucele and perhaps with the pucele pointing out that she had brought it on herself, yet it was assuredly the uerman poet who took the additional step and used her fate as the text for a sermon addressed to society at large* 1* xhe duty of offering and accepting advice in the name of friendship was a very common medieval notion; cf * tru» Alphoaaua, ^laolpll^.^erioallj (*i£ae, i&t£0- lOftla Latia*. CLVII, col. 671«.) IV, 2: eoftqale agioo i,uu in bomuu quantum potyrlB. etiaasi tlbi credfg* noluit* etc**and Frauendlenqt* 3* Buohlein, 382,21f•I QU rli*t und X«r*t wol / »la irlimt frlunt* «tt*n *ol« But our poet emphasises it unusually strongly, not only here but earlier in the text where the ignoring of counsel is given as one of the reasons for the downfall of Hero* 2# On more than one occasion in Bono de u^ibh/ the pas­ sionate outbursts of Yds in similar clrcums tanees ars witnessed by her waiting~voman Babins* 202 No method of winding up a atory is so 3atisfactoxy as a good resounding moral, and the end of Horlg vo* is far more impressive than the beginning. discursiveness would have blunted its edge and perhaps it was the poet's very eagerness to finish his task that saved him from his besetting temptation. For the slow leisurely prolixity that encumbers the opening sections now quickens and tautens as he hurries toward the moment when he can at last lay down hie pen and say with evident relief t- M ldeet dise rede vara. 203 j Chapter Three THE TOURNAMENT When the counte&s demands that Moris shall prove his worth both as a knight and as a lover by arranging a tour­ nament In her honour9 we feel that she is speaking with the authentic voice of the age of chivalry* The tournament has Indeed always been reckoned the most typical and abso­ lute manifestation of the chlvalric outlook* No attempt to reconstruct a society of brave knights and fair ladies is complete without a tourney as one of the highlights of the picture, from the lists at Aahby-de-la-Zouch in Ivanhos to the Arthurian films and "Elack Knight" strip cartoons of the present day* Long after chivalry was defhnct as a social force, people strove to preserve the illusion of life in it by holding tournaments of increasingly empty splendour* Even up to quite recent times jousts have oc­ casionally been staged (usually with absurd, if not igno­ minious results)f as a public spectacle9 an extravagant whim, or a romantic gesture of homage to some idealised image of the Middle Ages*1 1* John Evelyn, on his travels in Italy, reports in his Diary for May 3th, 16451 Mi;here had been in ths morn­ ing a joust and tournament of severall young gentlemen (continued overleaf) All such artificial revivals concentrate of necessity on reproducing the outward forme of the tourney9 with their flourish and ceremonial* But the spirit which these forms once existed to clothe is both far more complex and far more elusive* To a greater extent than any other aspect of chivalric life the tournament embodies the double con­ flict in which the knight found himself 2 on the moral plane9 the clash between his Christian profession and his natural impulses of self-assertion end self-display; on the social plane9 the clash between the barbarian culture from which he was just emerging and the laborious polish and self-discipline he now sought to acquire* Everywhere in the tournament these opposing currents of thought are apparent9 now running parallel9 now diverging9 now inter­ mingled 9 now widely sundered9 and it is this fact which ac­ counts for the puzzling inconsistencies discernible in nearly all contemporary descriptions of the tourney9 whether in literature or in life* footnote continued from previous page 2 on a formal defy ••• the prises being distributed by the ladies after the knight-errantry way* The launcers and swordsmen running at tilt against the barriers9 with a great deale of clatter9 but without any bloodshed 9 giving much diversion to the spectators and was new to us travellers*M K.C. Olephan, The .^ 8,,period8 and phaaja (London 1919TT pp. 139ff. gives some interesting examples of jousts and tournaments during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries* It is quite impossible for the modern person to guess with any degree of certainty how much of the tournament cult was a genuine striving to put ideals into practice9 how much was half-conscious escapism, how far knightly society deliberately hid sordid realities from sight by throwing over them this veil of glamour and pretence9 how far men were even aware of any incongruity between the two levels of vision that met in the tournament, and how far they tried to disentangle or reconcile them* In exploring this territory we meet at every turn with contradiction and irrationality* But perhaps the most paradoxical aspect of all is the way in which the tournament continued to thrive and expand throughout the Middle Ages with irresistible momentum, in the face of every conceivable discouragement and opposition* I. TKH SOCIAL AND LITERARY BACKGROUND OP THS TOURNAMENT • 1. "iiabet et diabolus tinnitus et lusores suos, quorum applausu servi eius et eubditl gaudent. Unum ho rum genus eat, torneamentis milltes aut satellites dediti*" The attitude of the Church was from the beginning un­ compromisingly hostile. In its most primitive form the tournament was merely a spontaneous clash of arms, unorganized, violent and ruthless; small wonder, then, that the earliest eccle­ siastical prohibitions were levelled against the mortal sin of wantonly hazarding or throwing away one's own life or that of a fellow man. Thie remained perhaps the chief official objection of the Church, long after tournaments had become more civilized. Por the enormous increase in their frequency and scale continued to make them a consid­ erable drain on human life, in spite of all thesafeguards 1. Thoinae Cantljaratenela mlraculonffl_.tj..^ UferJL Jiaa (ed. G. Colvenerius, Duaci 1605), De torneamentorum de­ mentia”, Lib. II, cap. 49, par. % and regulations that were gradually introduced to lessen the risks involved. As early as 1130, in the ninth Canon of the Synod of Clermont held on November 18,^ Pope Inno~ i cent II issued a ban on tournaments for this reason, and the prohibition was confirmed by the second Lateran Council 2 ' m mof 1139, and again renewed, in the strongest possible terms, by Alexander III at the third Lateran Council of 1179i3 "Felicia memoriae papae Innocentii et ^ugenii prae- decessorum nostrorum vestigiis inhaerentes, detes- tabiles illas nundinas vel ferias, quae vulgo tornea- menta vooant, in quibus milites ex condicto venire solent, et ad oaten tat ionem virium suarum et audaciae temere congrediuntur, unde mortes hominum et animarum pericula saepe proveniunt, fieri prohibemus •••” In the course of the 12th century a further reason presented itself to the Church with increasing urgency for the suppression of this sport that was coming to occupy a dangerously important place in the life of the average knight - the extent to which manpower, energy and material 1• Hefele-Leclercq, Hlstolre des conciles, Vol, V (Paris 1912), part I, p, o88, "Lea toumoie sont defend us, parce qu'il sont souvent homicides, * Ibid,. p, 729# 3, Ibid,.Vol, V, part 2 (Paris 1913)» PP. 1102f. resources that ought to have been expended in the sacred cause of the Crusades were being diverted to these useless and homicidal contests at home* Thus in 1148 a decree forbidding tournaments was issued by ^ ugene III at toe Cynod of hhelms in order to recall the knights to their duty with regard to the Second Crusade*1 Again in 1193 Celestin III ordered King Richard and the English bishops at home to ban tournaments in the hope of releasing fresh energies for the Third Crusade.2 m A similar prohibition appears again in 1213* when Innocent III9 planning to launch the assembled armies of Christendom against the infidel under the Papal banner» issued a Bull at the fourth Lateran Council suspending all tournaments for three years under strictest pain of excom- mun±cation9 and this Bull was renewed in almost identical terms in 1245 $ at a time when preparations were being made for the Seventh Crusade* Kven as late as 1313* long 1. Ibid,* Vol. V9 part 19 p* 825. 2• Hymer, poedera (rev* edn* of 1816)9 I9 p* 56* 3# Hefele - Leclercq9 op* cit*, Vol* V9 part 2 , p. 1394. 4. Ibid *9 p* 1660* 209 ^ after the genuine Crusading fervour was dead, Clement V could still issue from Avignon a Bull against the holding of tournaments* Cum enim in iorneamentis et justis in aliqulhus partibus fieri solitis multa pericula immineant ani- marum et corporum, quorum destruotiones plerumque contingent, nemlnl vertitur in dubium sanae mentis, quin illi qui Tomeamenta faciunt, vel fieri procurant, impedimenturn procurant Passagio faciendo, ad quos homines, equi et pecunia, et expensae fore necessaria dinoscuntur, quorum Tomeamentorum factura cum gravis poenae adjectione a nostris praedeceseoribus eat interdicta • ••* It is true that the necessity of accepting facts as they were, and the danger of antagonising the knights and provoking them to rebelliousness and disobedience by at­ tempting to deprive them forcibly of their favourite pastime, prompted certain gestures of compromise. Thus on December 10, 1206, Innocent III wrote to the Bishop of Soissons per­ mitting him to relax at his discretion the official pen— alty of excommunication, and to allow knights to purchase 1m unity from the ban on payment of a fine towards the cost of a future Crusade. On June 25, 1207, he wrote to the Archbishop of Tours, informing him of this experiment and suggesting that in view of its success - in their joy T ' ------------------------------------- 1. Quoted by Du Cange, "De I1 origins et de I'usage des Toumois" (Pise. VI, Paris 1666, p. 171). 210 ^ at the lifting of the bam the knights had been more than willing to pay the sum required - he might wish to intro­ duce it in his own diocese But in general the Church took the most serious view possible of the erase for tourneying and did not hesitate to bring to bear on the transgressor the full weight of spiritual disapproval* The penalty of excommunication is Itself sufficient indication of this; and the attempt was at one time made to place under the ban of the Church not only those who actually took partf but even those who per­ mitted the holding of tournaments on their lands, which thereby became forf>it to the Church* However, as always, this incessant threatening of extreme measures bro^ht its own dangers with it, and tended to defeat its own purposes* Papal authority had so often had recourse to the threat of excommunication that its force as a deterrent had become somewhat blunted. Following the example of Frederick II, daring souls were openly sceptical about its validity* And even the more pious or the more timid tended to trust to the Virgin and ths saints, to a dsath-bed repentance, 1* Bouquet, Hecueil des historiens des Gaules* Vol* XIX, (Paris 1833F, pp. 492#• or even to luck, aa a means of escaping the full conse­ quences of the ban. Only the existence of widespread in­ difference or carelessness can explain Winsbeke's urgent warning about the awful nature of the punishment: der via— .t in der helle al.6, / das Jtidaa ale die nOt Kam a.,1 or the cynical reflections put into the mouth of the young rfelmbrechti 6M und ban. dag lot gin spot.2 Yet there was one very simple way in which the baa could be put into effect and its consequences brought hone to the offender with immediate and unmistakable finality - the withholding of burial in consecrated ground from those who met their deaths in a tournament.^ About this punish­ ment there was nothing vague or remote, and the knowledge that Christian burial would be refused to any individual who was unlucky enough to fall a victim to the hacards of the tourney must have made many pause. The prohibition 1. i>er Wlnsbeke (ed. A, Leitsmann, 2nd. rev. edn.9 halle 1928 )753, $f. a* Keler Ualiabrocht 1019. 3. Cf. Th.iix.mpla of Jacqu.e de Vltry (ed. Crane) pp. 62f, No. CXLIi Unde,.p.TO&ter nala et ,c^deUtate. /it.que. tomicldia .et aarym lnle effugtones, inntltulS Christiana alg.. dene^etur. issued in 1179 by Alexander HI bad already stated: Quod al guls eorun Ibidem mortuus fuerlt auamvle eo roecenti noj^ne^eturt, ecjgleaia^ tlca tamen careat aepultura. And there is evidence to show that the Church authorities did not hesitate to adhere to this policy in the face of strong and repeated pleas from the highest secular quarters and even from certain groups within the °hurch itself. *or instance, on August 23, 1163, Alexander III him­ self wrote to the Archbishop of iiheims, who, encouraged by no less a person than Thomas Becket, had begged for per­ mission to bury with Christian rites the body of a knight killed in a joust* The request is courteously, but firmly, refused - a precedent must not be created ne orava ilia oonauetudo ex hoc lncrementum poaalt aueclparoh An even more dramatic Incident took place in Germany* In 1175 Archbishop Wichmann of Magdeburg had issued an edict ex­ communicating all who took pa^ t in tournaments. In De­ cember of that year his own cousin, Konrad, the son of Margrave Dietrich of Meissen, was killed while tourneying in Austria. Although the young man's relatives implored Christian burial for him, pleading that he had died peni­ tent after receiving Absolution, *ichmann was adamant | 1. Bouquet, op. cit.* Vol. XT (Paris 1808), p* 804. only when Papal consent had been specially obtained, when the whole family had sworn on relics that they would not only abstain from tournaments in the future themselTes, but would oompel their vassals and Mlnlateriales to do the same, and when ^ ietrich had made a substantial g i f t of land to the Church in expiation, did he relent and allow the body to be buried after a lapse of several weeks*^ Following the lead thus resolutely given, moralists and preachers, all who had the public welfare at heart or who felt themselves called upon to attack the abuses of their day, joined the chorus of condemnation* No device was neglected whereby men could be frightened or cajoled away from their darling vice, and the theme of the sinful­ ness of tourneying was worked out with an elaboration for which the official pronouncements of the Church gave little scope* The penalties awaiting those who died excommunicate were painted in the grimmest colours, and the fate of the jouster on the Day of Judgement or the nature of his tor­ ments in hell were predicted with much detail and assurance* 1« Xncerti iiuctoria Chronica Montis Sereni (ed* F*A. Eckstein. 1856)* ad annum 1175; quoted by Karl Heine, lchmann von *->eeburg (¥eue Mitteilungen aus dem Cebiet ftistorisch-aritiquarlsoher Forschungen, Halle 1898), PP* 373ff* Two further examples of similar incidents are quoted by ^ lwin Schulta, D u hdfische Heben sur Zeit der Minnesinger (2nd edn7, Deipaig 1889), il. Rutebeuf is only expressing ths Papal view in popular language when hs writes;- 131 Tomoieur, et vos qus dirois wui au jor dou juise irois? Levant ±>ieu qus porrois reepondrs? • • * be 11 vos demands la Terr# Ou por vos vout la mort sofferre , Qus direiz vos? Je ne sal quoi. And the lesson oontained in exhortations such as this could be further driven home by anecdotes and moral tales of all kinds, whose aim was to surround the tournament with an atmosphere of horror, as something sinister and ac­ cursed* Sometimes real life was obliging enough to pro­ vide a warning more striking than any exemplum* Such an event was the tournament at Neuss near Cologne in 1241# where a company of knights, ignoring the appeals of a preaching friar to desist, held a Whitsun tournament at which a large number of the participants perished either from their wounds or from suffocation in the dust of the mills* The disaster of Neuss was eagerly seised on and exploited to the full by chroniclers and didactic writers* Thus Philippe Mousket in his Chroniaue rimle2 writes1- 1* J* Bast in - £• Paral, Unae ; oeraes e i iuod in n o b is c e r n l t is , quamvls .id VQfo c o rp o ra llb u s o c u lls d ia cem e re non p o a a it le . one o f th e k n ig h ts cou ld be id e n t i f ie d ae a man who had been k i l le d a few yea rs b e fo re t la huluem odj o om lta tu d lc ltv u - e tla a i j..mlcbo oomea. an te pauooe aanoa ooc leue . apparu leae e t ab bee bm m o ra tlo a ib u e e t e le a o e la le ae PQ fftf rH S U i doom was. A lth o ugh th e re ie in th is aooount no e x p l ic i t m en tion o f tou rnam en ts9 th e a llu s io n to th e armour and horses w h ich had been th e in s trum en ts o f t h e i r d o w n fa ll seems a t le a s t a probab le re fe re n ce to th e d e s ire f o r b oo ty - th e tu rn io re n umbe guo t - w h ich was a lw ays one o f th e p r in c ip a l m o tive s f o r th e p o p u la r ity o f th e to u rn e y * It i s In te re s t in g th a t th e c h ro n ic le r , in h is endeavour to suggest th e in te n s ity o f t h e i r s u ffe r in g s , has combined bo th th e heathen and th e C h r is t ia n id e a o f e te rn a l to rm e n t! th e k n ig h ts , though th e y rem ain on e a r th in b o d ily shape as phantoms a re in fa c t a t th e same tim e be ing consumed by th e f i r e s o f H e ll* A no the r s to ry o f a named in d iv id u a l who re tu rn s from th s dsad to d s c la rs how h is s in fu l lo ve o f th e tournam ent is being punished, and to Indore* like Count £mlcho* the prayers and charitable works of the living on hie behalf* is told by Matthew Paris in his Chronica ftajora for ths year 1227.^ A certain knight laoul de fhony, who* hurry­ ing back to the de&th-bed of his dearly-loved brother Koger* found him already dead* conjured hia in Cod’s name to re­ turn and give some account of his fatei the dead man sat up and told how he had seen the torments of the damned and the Joys of ths bleessd, j^ cnon„syjp£3y.pJ.a .aftga,., miser e^ o de put at us sum, breaking out into the lamentable cry Vae, vac ralhl* quare unquam Tomeamenta exercul et ea tanto studio dilexl? His brother* horror-struck* promisee to have Masses said and alms bestowed on the poor as the only means whereby his sufferings can be mitigated* Bxactly what lies behind these tales it is impossible to guess s whether they sprang from the uneasy conscience of the knights themselves* torn between their passion for 1* Chronica Rajora (Kolls Bd&J Vol. Ill* pp. 143f« Later in the same work (Vol. V, p. 298, ad annum 1232) Matthew Paris mentions Haoul de Thony again* this time in connexion with a third brother Ai chard. It la interesting to note (though doubtless only a coinci­ dence) that the de Thonys* like the Craons and the Beaumonts* belonged to the highest Angevin nobility| that both Hie hard de Thony and Maurice II de Craon* the hero of our poem* held high office in the province* Metthsv Paris speaking of kichard as thesaurur.iuo Andegavenaia. while Maurice is mentioned by dadulfue de DicQtoTl, 380) ae governor of Anjou and Maine in 11741 and that the brothers de Thony were blood-rela- tivee of the king of 3ootland* while krmengard de Beau­ mont* slater of klchard de Beaumont who ia the "husband" tourneying and their fear of thereby forfeiting Heaven; whether they are the genuine products of pious credulity; or whether they were deliberately put into circulation by the Church in order to work on the emotlon8 of the knighte and terrify then into amending their life* But they, like the categorical *thou shalt not * of the Papacy, could only be effective ae long ae the knlghte were will- in 4 to be treated like children in the nursery* Ae they became intellectually more sophisticated it was no longer possible to frighten them with tales of bogles; as they be cane more independent and lees submissive to authoritar­ ian pronouncements from any source, it was no longer suf­ ficient merely to declare a thing sinful and forbidden in order to have it suppressed* This had always been 00 up to a certain point, but ae the thirteenth oentury progressed the secular nobility was rapidly growing away fromjths tutelage of the Church and refused to be dragooned into obedience* It became increasingly necessary to reams* with them and persuade them of the truth by argument* The sine that were either inherent in the tournament, or at leaat tended to accompany it, had to be demonstrated in footnote continued from previous pages in the poem, married the King of Scotland in 1186* detail: alne of corariloeion, ouoh aa gwfcllng, drunfesnaaas, idleness, leebery, vainglory. Ill-will; sins of a d sal on, such aa indiffsrsnes towards tha rioly Mara of tha Crusades, or tha na&leot of thoaa Christian dutiaa with vhieh a gentleman*a tine should properly he filled. One gats the izpreaaian that the very conception of ein ie shifting from the theological to the nsoral and rational. There la frequently nothing transcendental about tha exhortations of tha preaohere, ahoaa sermons were tha prl:*lpie vehicle for thia new and more adult approach. for the preaahera formed a bridge between the authority of the Churoh and tha aeeular publio, speaking often aa man to man in direot contact with thoaa ahora they ware seeking to oonrlsaa.1 1» A particularly good eagrpla of thia "reasonable" approach ia quoted in translation from tha of ihnfcert da aomens, fifth .‘fester of Ordar, by A.E,leeoy de la an snoven fine (2nd. edn*. *11 y a dana loo toumole condamablee, d'autres qu'on peut qu on doit approuarer. Pini lea preraidree, 11 fant eoqpter las prodigalltia im;u .ofieu faitea & ea propos par lee nobles ... 000100*008 d’entre eux, one pie eat, prof 1 tent da l'ooeaslon pour aaaouvir m o halnce prlvdea ... (ou) s'expoeent eux adductions dea folles femmes gui ae rdunisaant Id. lea chevaliers dolvent aeularaent prendre part aux luttes noddrdee, dans 1*intention unique de a'exeroer 4 ia goerre •••', and so forth, in the same strain. Thus Jacques ds Vltry, in an anecdote from one of hie ser­ mons, tells how he once talked with a knight who was a great frequenter of tourneys, refusing to believe that they could be sinful, and how he showed him at some length and with irrefutable reasoning that the tournament In fact involved the committing of all Seven H*&dly sine at once. He concludes: cum aute;a diet us miles hec verba audiret et aperte veritatem quam nunquan audierat agnos- oeret. aicut prius torneamenta dilexit ita postea semper odlo habere cspit.1 This catalogue of the Seven deadly Sins of tourneying seems to have oaught the fanoy of the time. It was ap­ parently taken over into William of Wadingtonfs Manuel dea Pechlez. and this in its turn served as a basis for Hobert rtannyng of Brunos's aaadjyag oyoa..2 vh«r« it is stated«- 4374 Of toum&ruentys bat are forbede Yn holy oherohA, as men rede, Of tournamentys y preue berynne Seuene poyntds of dedly synne. Pride heads the 11st:- 4379 Auauntiment, bobaunce and boat Of ryche atyre ys here auaunoe, Prykyng here hors with olypraunce ... 1# hoc, clt.. p. 62, Ho. CX1I. 2. bd. FsJ. Fumivall (for ths &oxburghe Club), London 1862. Then follow iinvy, Anger, Sloth, Avarice, Gluttony - for the knights eat 460? Delycyus metes to make hem strong. And drynke fce wyne hat he were lyght • •• and finally "dame leohsrys":- 4607 Of here cumh all# here maistrye* Many tymss for wymmen sake, riyghteys tournamentys make • •• So ys he bete here for here loue, pat he ne may sytte hys hors aboue, pat perauenture yn alls hys lyre, Shal he neuer aftyr fcryvs ••. This is frankly an appeal to common sense and en­ lightened self-interest, reducible, like so much of later medieval moralising, to the simple principle:- sin does not pay, not even in this life* i‘he "seuene poyntee of dedly sin" retain their traditional labels, but much of the sting seema to have gone out of them. Apart from a single mention of God and the Mass, ths tone is curiously secular, and were it not for the fact that Mannyng is known to have been a member - though perhaps only a lay brother - of the Gilbertine community at uempringham, one might well be pardoned for supposing ths passage to be the work of a man of the world* As ths Middls Ages advance, the voice of the layman moralist does in fact make itself increasingly heard along­ side that of the preacher* He does not anathematise from the heights of spiritual authority, he do«s not play on 226 superstitious terras, nor even argue from a pulpit j he attacks, as it were, on the level - and he attacks something that is becoming not so much a sin as a supreme folly. In works of this type the dangers of tourneying are des­ cribed in a realistic manner, apparently baaed on personal experience and observation, and therefore touched with variety and individuality! condemnation - or, aa frequently happens, mere disapproval - ie ooloured by indignation, impatience, pusslement, ridicule, or some other subjective emotion according to the temperament of the writer, bven outside the Church, thinking men have loit sympathy with that way of life of which the tournament le the perfect expression. ' ; ; - . . Nor is this to be wondered at. Through the late thirteenth and the whole of the fourteenth centuries the gulf between the rising middle-olass outlook and the men­ tality of the chevalier tournoyeur steadily widens. True, the tournament wee often cultivated in bourgeois circles* ©specially by members of the patrlolan class, and in the Carman cities ths atadtjunker strove as eagerly to acquire the privilege of "Ihjrnlerfahlgkelt" as the nobles for their part strove to retain it in their own hands by extending It only under conditions of increasing difficulty. There is* for instance* the case of the great tournament held at hitsun in the year 1281 by the atadt junker of Magdeburg*1 to which patrician families from the neighbouring cities were invited with much ceremony* This tournament was or­ ganised with all kinds of allegorical trappings based on the Grail legend* and the prize was a beautiful courtesan named wvrow FeieM (Sophia); but the incongruity between this setting of high romance and the homely and respectable reality eould hardly be better symbolised than by the fact that the victor of the day was a worthy old merchant from Collar who* instead of enjoying his 1 prise1* arranged an honest marriage for her with a dowry from his own purse* And these bourgeois tourneys were on the whole inspired less by the love of jousting for its own sake than by the ambition of social climbers* anxious to gain a foothold in that territory which had hitherto been the exclusive pre­ serve of their superiors* True* again* there were men of the oitisen class who still looked up to the chivalric way of life with reverence 1* A lw in s jc h u lts , op* c l t . * II* pp. 117f* 228 and who cherished a vision of the tournaments of the past ae the quintessence of valour, courtesy and splendour* Konrad von Wtbrsburg is perhaps the outstanding example of this attitude f revelling as he does in tournament des­ criptions of a positively baroque exuberance* In a more sober faahion9 Werner der &&rtner makes even hie old peasant lament that die alten tumel sint verslagen , und sint die niuwen fdr getragen* Many other non-knightly writers indulge in the same kind of nostalgic retrospect f echoing the words of deinaar von Zwetert- Turnieren was 6 ritterlich, nu ist es rinderlloh9 toblich, tdtreis und mordes rfch9 mortme z z e r und mortkolbe9 gesliffen aks gar df des m&nnes tdt* hue ist der tumel nu gestalt 9 des werdent schoenen frouwen ir ougen rdt9 lr hersen kalt*2 But for the most part middle-class opinion was firmly on the side of the oppositlon9 a circumstance that is hardly surprlsing9 for the tournament offended bourgeois morality in every particular* It scandalised bourgeois 1. Melw ttelnfrfcht. 1023*. aweter (ed* 0. uoethe, Beipsig 1887)9 thriftiness by its deliberate extravagance; it violated the bourgeois instinct for self-preservation and the bour­ geois sense of the sanctity of human life by its heedless brutality and bloodshed; it shocked bourgeois respecta­ bility by the license and dissipation that usually accom­ panied it; it disconcerted bourgeois sobriety by its unabashed parade and swagger; it outraged bourgeois god­ liness by its flouting of every Christian precept; and above all it affronted bourgeois common sense by its com­ plete and triuaohant irrationality* This common sense viewpoint finde its fullest expres­ sion in the t^enner of Hugo von i'rimberg*1 Writing as an exact contemporary of Hobart Mannyng, as the fourteenth century opens, he is nevertheless much more free and per­ sonal in his style of approach* He la exasperated by the perversity of men - so half-hearted in their response to those 6564 die got manio jdr h&nt gedienet und gerne si l&rten dd mit si ir hell gemdrtsn, t &d* G. hhrismann (Bibl.d.Mt.Ver in Stuttgart, CCXbVII CCXLVIII, CCL1I, CCXiYI, Tdbingsn, 1908-11 )• 230 and so eager to flock together when a single squire bids them to a tourney 6362 des weder lip noch sftle hit frumen. In the section "Von Stephen" (11567ff#) the harangue continues: "God must laugh when He sees these two manikins bent on poking at each other with long spears •»» What folly to risk one's life in the pursuit of honour Waz prises wil der d& bejagen, ob man in muoz won dannen tragen? Better be a coward, if to be a brave man is to get oneself killed Der helde wirt wil m6r erslagen. Why, not ewen as penance for his sins would a man submit to being struck with clubs and swords as though he were a pieoe of iron on an anvil; but the idea of penance is very far from the j ouster's mind as he sits on his fine horse, very well pleased with himself and hoping for general admiration " This is not the voice of Church authority, it is the half-irritated, half-Ironical voice of the school­ master whose pupils insist on preferring what is bad for them:- Wanne ez h&nt manlge tumme lelen von justleren und von turneien verlom lip, s&Le unde guot %• author of Dan lwaia rata1 oven carries the arguaent one stage further into the realm of allegory* as he points to the heavenly tournaments shleh God has in store for good and penitent men} a hind of knightly achluraffen- land wb0r® ranoonus and pledgee are unknown* wh©i*e food la free for all and everyone la an Bnipcror:- das 1st der sslbsn turnlerer idn. L6n. fruman - the words run like a refrain through the moral writings of this period. And where virtue is regarded as a occixaeroial proposition, the tournament has Indeed little chance of survival* 2* "This manner of exercise, toeing then used, not at the tilt (as Z think), tout at Bandera and in the open fields, was acoompted so daungerous to the persons having to do therein toat *** toe kings at tola realm (toefore King 3tephen) would not suffer it to toe fremranted within their land* But afterwards King Stephan in M s time permitted it) and then after him Xing Richard I not only allowed it, tout also encouraged his nobilltie to use itj and so toy little and little *«« it grewe to a most pleasant, inwall and familia pan tins® * 1. Sd. i: .A .Barack (Bitol.d.Lit.Ver, in Stuttgart, LXX, Stuttgart 1869), TSSQff. ft* W, Ladbarde, Pey^agtAfta of 1996, p. 448, 2S2 Tlai tournament woe not merely oppooed in tbe name religion and morals# it presented tbe secular authorities also with a practical problem in face at whioh sane sort at official policy had to be adopted. Kings could not remain indifferent to an occupation that had become a species of obsession with those on whom their power chiefly depended, and it was plainly to their interest to prevent matters from getting out cf hand, Ths knights for their part bitterly resented interference from above, and flouted all restrictions to ths limits of impunity, so that the tournament issue became a factor, and by no means an unimportant one, in the perpetual struggle between the sovereign and his vassals. Stats opposition to ths touraay was naturally baaed on motives very different from those that inspired ths attitude of the Church, and, being dictated by expediency rather than by any moral principle, was mush less consistent and clearly-defined in its operation. In general it may be said that the aim was not to suppress tournaments alto* gather, but Instead to ensure that ths convening and organi­ sing at them remained a royal prerogative, kept within 233 strict bounds and exercised or withheld as the king should think fit. After all. they provided valuable training In ths arts of war. and afforded an excellent opportunity for dis­ covering fresh knightly talent that could be reerulted In the royal service) they could be turned to account as a source of revenue If taxes before the event, or fines after It. were levied on all who took part In then) while, In the last resort, pemission to tourney oould be used as a kind of good- eonduet prise reserved for those In the royal favour. But on the other hand there was ample reason for a policy of restraint.y The tourney, with its steady flow of men killed and disabled, Involved a wastage of useful, and In some oases Indispensably preolous, lives, not to speak of the equally oatastrophie wastage of horses, armour and other equipment which should have been reserved for sane more important cause. She expensive nature of the pursuit dissipated the knights' substanee and incapacitated them for their proper military service. It disturbed the peaoe and laid waste the oountryside, disorganizing the normal agricultural and eeonoaio life of the people.1 1. Up till dtout the middle of the thirteenth century tourna­ ments were not fought out within an enclosed arena but over open country) as the summer was the traditional season for tourneying, much damage to orops and pasture- land oust have resulted. While the emergency provisioning and equipping of these large gatherings of knights with their retainers unsettled the normal supply and demand of markets. Of. Jacques de Vitry, loc.clti- ... nee negates is oonpuloare et dlsslnare fprmldant et caunaraa las valde dampnlfleant et molestant. and Thomas [pratensls, j-OOagtt., py.3« .. olves urblum devastantur. expoyy*™* "auporesels reliquitur fruotrug! penis - Xt dirooted the energies and antoitiana of the knighte into futile* if not positively harmful* channels, and by encour­ aging arrogance, tMMeiiis a d M blood smonpt thsa. weakened ici|i# f&fe && i^ bniunal imtttrorlaOe It distracted them from their public reapo -sihilitioa by shift­ ing the emphasis on to private adventuring. And, moot oorious of all, it ohallonged tho suprooacy of tho sovwolgn by oreating and fostering e whole world of activity which constantly threatened to slip from his control - unauthorised aaeemblioo of vaoaalo, whore conopii*ooy might flourish onfl discontent find a voice, unauthorised passages of anas that might easily develop into private warfare, and a general mood of self-will and insubordination* In different countries the problem took different forms, end the oounter-osasures adopted varied aeoordinglyf but the earns general line of policy prevails everywhere. In England,1 where up to tho time at Edward X the tournament was almost entirely organized by the barone independent at the oourt, and u-aa thus permanently in danger of becoming "a focus for baronial disoontent",C the strength 1, The position in England has been treated in detail by I, "the Tournament in tits thirteenth n o t 8* Ibid.. p. 341. 235 or weakness of each successive monarch is in a sense typified by his attitude in this particular matter, Stephen ia reproached by the chroniclers for his lack of firmness ,* but Henry II appears to have been largely successful in suppressing the tournament on English soil, so that those knights (including his own sons) who were eager for exploits and glory had to satisfy their ambitions on the other side p of the Channel, Richard I, on the other hand, defying an express command of the Pope, relaxed the prohibition and licensed the holding of tournaments in certain appointed places on payment of a fee graded according to the rank of % the persons concerned, fhis was done partly in order to raise funds for the Crusades or for the national exchequer, partly to increase the fighting efficiency of the barons and to make them a match for the French knights, who were 1. William of J t t g f e j f r l J &oU*han*, Vol, II, p« Boole Y, chap, 4* cum pcr c.1 us indccei.tc.ii iaoXlUj^m_jiullug .sgset.^ ualic^.e vlf-py .djgclpllnaQ, 2. Ibidi ftiardcftal. 154Off.: Brutftjjiflnc ou c g i L M B - ■ tttt la ou I'om turaale. I Ki volt .aetjgc pgjjw si Smw / g a *g r./ X ' M / , en.itaEas M io»/ hai: ij,c.t/ g&tew. aL.caa / -2&r 3. Roger de Hoveden, Chronica III, p. 268, ad annum 1194 236 apt to scoff at the English tanquam rwHhus et but surely also because Richard was by temperament disposed 2 to a sympathetic view of chivalric enterprise. His successor, caring for none of these things, seems to have taken no action in the matter one way or another, in spite of the fact that the tournament must have provided a peculiarly dangerous rallying-point for the hostile barons during his reign. Henry III was apparently more aware of the danger, but, whether he was afraid to challenge the power of the barons openly or for some other reason, he contented himself with half-hearted attempts to forbid each tournament in turn as the occasion arose; his edicts seem to have been consistently disregarded, and in the majority of cases there is no record of any action having been taken against the offenders. Indeed, the very frequency of these edicts (Denholm-Young puts the number between 1216 and 1274 at about a hundred)'* is a sign that the passion for tourneying had reached a point where control was no 1. William of Newburgh, hoc. cit ♦ 2. Though the historloal records of Richard's own day contain no description of his prowess in the tourney, it is Interesting that Konrad von WHrzburg, when composing his "per Turaei von Mantheia" (ed. K. Bartsdi, , chose for the role of all-oonquering hero iUohart von Kogelland.n. Op .cit.. pp. 245f 237 longer possible. With Edvard 1 and the revival of the Arthurian cult at court, the tournament was taken up under royal protection; it was by then considerably less turbulent and varlike than it had been at the beginning, but the potential menace to the Crown was still there, and the king was careful to prohibit tourneying under pain of severe penalties when he was out of the country or engaged in war.1 Not until it had become a social entertainment for the aristocracy rather than the private recreation of gentlemen- at-arms did the tournament also become harmless to the State. In Germany, the early history of the tournament can only be reconstructed by guesswork. Contemporary allusions are comparatively rare and inclined to be somewhat vague, while later accounts, though leaving nothing to be desired in their wealth of precise detail, are patently apocryphal in character. At the time of the Second Crusade the Germans were still lagging behind the French, who are reported to have taunted the Emperor Conrad1® followers with the mysterious phrase r> oorj^ AX^ve (poa— a H I m m A T ). as they vere later to jeer at the barons of England in the days of 1. Denholm-Young, op.cit., pp. 263, 267. 2. Joh. Cinnamus, Illst.Lib. II, 18, quoted by Alwin Schults, op.clt., II, p. 107• 238 Richard I. There is no doubt that from the second half of the twelfth century onwards French influence was steadily gaining ground in tournament fashions as in the other departments of ehivalrle life, though the evidence is not sufficient to trace out the exact manner and extent of the transformation. nevertheless, it seems to have been the case that certain features, having their roots in pre- ehivalric times, persisted throughout the Mddle Ages in the German tournament and gave to it a distinct national character of its own. One of these was the linking of the tournament with genuine military operations of some kind, a custom reminiscent of the warrior games which, in barbarian societies, frequently precede a battle, or follow it as a celebration of victory. These contests could apparently be of a more or less spontaneous and Inprovized nature, such as the tournament at Wflrzburg in 1127,1 the earliest of which historical record has been preserved, or they could be organized with great ceremony and magnificence, like the famous tournament given by Henry the Illustrious, l« S U g t e Frialasgnslg Geeta P- ■966* 36J» txroclnl-qT., qupd vtyLffl nuncturnetoentum dicitur. 239 Hargrave of Kaisaen, at Nordhausen in 1263, to celebrate the successful conclusion of a seven years' campaign against a rival prince.1 The account of the first introduction of the tournament into Germany given by Georg SQxnsr in his "lumierbuoh". though in no sense historical, bears out this aspect of the matter. iltbmsr relates hov Henry the Fowler after a great victory over the Huns (i.e. the Magyars) in 936 rewarded hie followers with splendid festivities at Magdeburg •­ Has alies aber den Keysser jrem verdienst nach / bedauoht ata wenig seln / vnnd verosynet seinen werden gesten / noch mer khurtswell zu maohen / damitt er sie longer bei jm behilt ... vnnd gedacht eine Thurnir vnd freabd rltterspiel vffsuridhten / da er selbst mit einreltten vnnd Thumieren volt / dleweil dea Adel in hoch Theutschen landen vnd im Reich solohs noch unbekant wer ... / alssdann Thumierten vnd Triumphirten sie su offeabarung des alga der uberwindung Jrer feind / lebten sie in freuden ... 2 The second was the cultivation of a peaceful and entirely deoorative form of the tournament, whioh was not so muoh a mock contest of arms as a kind of military review, usually reserved for State occasions of a solemn or festive 1. See under "Heinrich der Srlauchts, Markgraf von Helseea" in the ,ff,yut.80fee 2« Georg Kttxner* _ edn* of 1666)* r. 240 character and presided over by the Emperor or some other personage of princely status. Displays of horsemanship, in which intricate and graceful evolutions were performed by riders singly or in teams, are said to have been a favourite diversion at the court of Charlemagne,1 and it was a similar spectacle that was arranged, more than three and a half centuriee later, by Frederiok JBarbarossa at the great Pfin/tatfost at Mains in 1184. Contemporary accounts make it dear that this so-o&lled ‘V.vrura" was not mimio warfare but rather a species of primitive Tattoo in which the individual nobles (among them the Kmperor in person) vied with eaoh other in parading before the assembled multitude their martial finery of arras, shields and banners and their prowess in the saddle. Xhe Bmperor kept a strict •ye on the proceedings, which had of course been arranged to the greater honour and glory of the imperial house, and It is significant that a genuine tournament, which had been planned - possibly by the visiting nobles from France elsewhere - to take place two miles away, was cancelled by official decree. The third special characteristic of the German tournament M 3, N1®dner*im III. und XXIX. Jahrhundert pp. 7 f T 2. G4a.leb.ertl .Qfarpnlgpft (HQB.SS.XX1) p. 539, 5ff. ie this very way in which the Emperor and, following his example, the territorial princes and leadi:ig nobles, tried to keep it under their personal control as a means of enhancing their own prestige, whether they took an aotiwe part in the actual tourneying or contented themselves with convening the participants, supervising the arrangements and providing costly prises and entertainment. How far they were, or indeed could be, successful in thus harnessing the tournament to their own interests it ie impossible to tell, but history, legend and literature all combine to suggest that ouch was In fact their endeavour. Proa the wttrsburg tournament of 1127, held in honour of Duke Frederick of Swabia, or the Nordhausen tournament given by the Margrave of Meissen, up to the gorgeous shows presided over by the Emperor Maximilian at Huraberg and elsewhere, the historical records indicate the extent to which these gatherings were organized under official court patronage. this fact is further confirmed by RGxner, not only in his tale of the first tournament under Henry the Powler, but all through the Tumierbudh. where one legendary tourney after another is described as having taken place under the auspices of this or that princely patron, if not actually Kevserllcher KMleatat au eren; the accounts are pure fabrication, but perhaps for this very reason not without significance, since 242 they show clearly in which direction the weight of tradition lay* Seen Ulrich won Lichtenstein, though it ie quite impossible to disentangle truth from flotion in his auto­ biography, shows on more than one occasion the way in whioh the holding or cancelling of tournaments depended on the will of the princes. His account of the olrouastanoes which led up to the tournament at Trieeach in 12241 may not give at all a true picture of the faots, but at least it is plain that a leading part in the affair was played by Duke Leopold of Austria) and later, towards the end of "Frauendianst"* when Ulrich in his r&le of King Arthur holds a tournament near Vienna in 1240, it is Duke Frederick of Austria who takes ower command entirely, first fixing a day for the tourney and entering the lists in person, and then in a moment of pique or displeasure ordering the whole proceedings to be stopped. The knights obey at onoe, though not without resentmenti- 501,20 "Una hit mln herre ds Oesterrleh enboten bi den triuwen mln, das wir hie turniren l&zen aim das 1st uns hertsenllchen leit. juneherre, das si iu geseiti wir mtlesen im sin undertin, duroh in beidlu tuon und Ian". By thus keeping the tournament as far as possible in 1. 224. 62,13 - 96,16. their own hands, the Bnperor and the princes were able to render it harmless. They satisfied on the most lavish soale the twin cravings of the German knights for military sport and for colourful spectacle; and the knights for their part, forgetting political considerations, willingly accepted from the hands of their overlords entertainments of a type whloh it was quite beyond their power to provide for themselves. Control from above, combined with a native passion for efficient planning led in the fourteenth oentury to the founding of the four great - Bavarian, Swabian, Franconian and fihonish «* in which the office of oberater Turniervogt was held by the territorial prlnde of each region, while under him a hierarchy of functionaries superintended such matters as the oonvenlng of tournaments, the construction of the lists, questions of escort and accommodation, and other administrative details.1 Even in the earlier period, the German tournament seems to have been surrounded by an atmosphere of peculiar stiffness and formality. There was a positive delight in all the minutiae of organisation, from the ritual of Invitation, the inspection of arms, the screening of participants to ensure that they !• J^ScheiY, h u ^ C 244 had ths requisite number of generations of nobility behind k them or had not otherwise forfeited their Turnierfghi-dcait. the oeremonial parade of the knights and the counter-parade of the ladies, the selection of the teams for the mass tourney and the arranging of the order of combats for the joust, up to the wotes of thanks and speeches which concluded the proceedings. numerous officials, heralds, umpires, Tumlervttete. and others havered to and fro enforcing the regulations, while in the background secretaries noted . everything down in minutes. It is all very solemn and business-like and a little pedestrian - quite different from the later tournaments in Franoe where all the elaborate codes of rules and ths exoess of ceremony never quite succeeded in banishing the element of grace and fantasy. Ths influenoe of the romances of chivalry, which in France introduced a note of genuine, if highly artificial, poetry, and whioh led, especially in England, to ths fashion for holding "Round Tables" (whatever the exaot meaning of the term may have been),1 in Germany never seems to have risen above the laborious make-believe of Ulrich and his companions in arms. And the fantastic "oonoeits" whioh served as a * 1. For tills question, see ths articles by R.H. Cline, "Influenoe of the Romanoee on the Tournamente of the Middle Ages", (Speculum XX. 194';, pp. 204ff.) and E. Sandos, "Toumeye in the Arthurian Tradition" (Speculum XIX. 1944, pp. 389ff.) 245 background for so many of the later Frenoh tournaments - ths "Emprise de la Joyeuse Garde", the "fas de la Fontaine de Pleurs" and so on1 - hare for their German counterpart (though earlier in point of time) the grotesque and slightly vulgar spectacle of a knight dressed in a woman's gown and Imitation blonde plaits, mincing about In ohurehes with the pox to the accompaniment of equivocal jests, in the Improbable rfile of lady Venus. However oonsolentlously the German knights might copy foreign models In their out­ ward forms, however sealously they strove after elegance and decorum, the underlying spirit la the main still eluded their grasp. The ehivalric tournament In Germany remained an uneasy and self-oonscious guest, welcomed eagerly and even fited, but rarer fully at home. In France, on the other hand, the tournament had been at home from the beginning. It was a knight of Anjou, Geoffrey de Preuilly, who was credited with having Invented" o It, and the mastery of the Frenoh In everything pertaining X. Marc Vulson de la Colombiire. ,-c- vray jfrfeJfeffi.aihflmfiva- et de ohevalerle (Paris 1648), Vol. I, pp. 81ff., ?69f. 2. Chrqnlaon Hftrtlnft.XMTGMR»jlf (Bouquet, ££*£&•* Vol. XII, 1781, pp. 461f.); Anno iienriqi lmpar ■s 3 fult px^mgag.iri-.Ahflga. Lacaairawrta 246 to the Beienoe of the tourney vaa never challenged. It vae» aa we have seen, the French knights who from the heights of their superior expertise jeered at the less practised chivalry of Rngland and Germany. It was to France that young English nobles* including princes of ths blood* went for training and experience in the reign of 2 Henry II, and to France that the Bohemian knight Johann von Niohelsberg went to try his skill in the closing years of the thirteenth century. 1 . R a lph o f Ooggeshall in his gyroq floo ft (Rolle orrrey de ilandeville died inedn.* p. 179) tells how Ge 1216 of wounds received in a joust yf}, w e iy the to up the same theme, e.g. Chretien de Iroyes, Clix:es 5 0 6 6 ff., where the hero goes in quest of "ohevalerle" throughout Brittany, Normandy and France* or Oui de (ed. 4. Bwert* Class.fr.d.m.a.* Paris 1952), : A l \ m r . M,t. jfli / glue tost cu'il POt si / £oga?w„...fl'Aaiya ., o r o.qne, dej :• / SVAg or *. Matthew Paris, (?toa«H|j,»» II. P tfualorlbuoT JSU 3. Heinrici von Freiberg, Ritte <^fr<&ep»JCg. ed. Bernt, pp. fleff Jtfmqn r• French tournaments tended to be most frequent in the north veot, where Angevin and iionaan influence was predominant. The classic text for the study of the tourney at this time la the Hlgta^.d.e 1,? several thousand lines of which are taken up with accounts of the various contests in which the Marshal played a distinguished part. Of these, two or three only (2875ff•» 4457ff.) were held in the Marne region, one (3426ff.) at Jolgny-eur-Yonne, and three (2471ff., 5491ff.» 5974ff.) near Compiigas, but the greater number are looated in the provinces of Sarthe (1201ff.) and iiayenne (1381ff.), the districts near Dreux (2773«.» 3681ff., 38Q8ff.) Chartres (4285ff., 4977ff.), Eu (3181ff.) and 3t-Pierre-sur-Dives in Normandy (7192ff.). It must be remembered that these few names represent only a small proportion of the oountless places vhloh the Marshal must have visited in the course of his long career as a knight-errant of the tourney. For two years during this time he struck up a partner­ ship with a certain Roger de Gaugi (3381ff.) a chevalier tournoveur like himself, and a bold and successful Jouster, though - in the view of the Marshal - perhaps a trifle too ^ greedy for gain. It is significant that this Roger came from Flanders, and from the last quarter of the twelfth oentury onwards, the emphasis shifts in fact every more strongly to the provinces of north-east France, Lorraine, Flanders and the Low Countries, those regions where flourishing trade and an urban economy based on money rather than landed property had brought about a degree of prosperity that was almost legendary*1 The leading patrons of the tournament are now the Dukes of Lorraine, Burgundy or Brabant the Counts of Luxemburg and Flanders, Holland and Hain&ult, Places like Haney and Pdronne, Corbie, Hesdln, Touraai, Calais, Boulogne, Sandricourt, Chdlons-sur-Kame and Ch&lon- sur-Jaone figure in the records of the time as the scene of oelebrated tourneys. Two of these, at Ham-sur-Somae in 2 1273' and at Ch&uveney near the Meuse in 1285 are even made the subject for lengthy rhymed chronicles. Guillaume, the hero of Flaaenoa. goes jousting through Flanders and wins the admiration of the Count by his handsomeness and bravery; he further distinguishes himself even more brilliantly at a great tournament given at Louvain by the Duke of Brabent, in which 4i 000 knights take part.^ Some of them are given 1. The change ie. as it were, symbolised by the account of the tournament at Mantes in Marie de France's Chaitlvel. where among the French. Borman and Angevin knights there are also knights from Boulogne. Flanders and Brabant (lines 77-79). the ohief opponents of the four heroes of the story being dgua Flamene et dous Henolers. 2. A. Henry in hie edition of the text prefers the alter­ native location, at Hem. between and Bray. 5. Flaaenoa. 6941ff., 6984ff. 253 ^ the names of historical personages and the romance may veil preserve the memory of some actual event. The popularity of the tournament in Flanders is acknowledged even by the Swabian author of Pea feufels Iteta. when he singles out the Flemish knights for particular mention along with those from his own native region 7732 *•* stochen, tumieren duroh ainander von Svaben und von Flander. So the young Gregorius in Hartmann von Aue9s poem, dreaming of the tournament in his abbey sahool, sees himself out­ shining even the knights of Hainault, Brabant and Kaspengau.1 Nor was the tournament in these provinces restricted to the knights. The rich burgesses of such cities as Lille, Bruges* Arras, were permitted to organise jousts for them­ selves on a scale not countenanced elsewhere. Such were the "Compaignie du prince A1 Amour” at Toumai, the "Fite des Forestiers" at Bruges) and the most famous of them all, the "Jeux de l9Es?inette” at Lille, became an event that lasted for two centuries* from 1283 to 1483, in which the tournament was combined with a grand carnival p pag»nt presided over toy a "king" elected each year. the 1. Hartmann von Aue, Qregoriua . passion fop tourneying even made Its Influence felt in high ecclesiastical circles. Philippe houaket, who died In 1832, was Bishop of Tournai, but hia Chronloua stmd*1 betrays In many places his love of 30011 lee blsus tornola Dont fleets venolt et doanoia. De fielffenberg oiteo3 the further example of Jean le Bel, Canon of Lidge, who wee a lover of the tournament as of all worldly gaieties. la coladbl&re sums up the matter truly when ha speaks a t "SOandrea, jraba.it et (lea) aultrea baaaes Marehea, oh lie font voulontiers Touruoie" ,3 That the tournament should In the oouree of time became a vehicle for the display of wealth rather than personal prowess was inevitable. And if in consequence the element of risk grew leas and the element of showlness increased, this was not necessarily s proof that the knight was becoming chicken-hearted or mterlaliatlo in his outlook. The tournament was by its very nature intensely and cumulatively competitive. But valour la not a thing that can go on surpassing itself indefinitely, nor la it a thing where the mere will to outshine all rivals is In Itself 1. 2d, do Heiffenberg, Brussels 1036, 2. raid., note on line 33, 3. Ja.clt.. I, p. 71. sufficient to guarantee superiority, iiot even technical skill, the produot of tradition and training, can be perfected beyond a certain limit, or placed automatically at the book and call of any vho wish to possess it. Expenditure and outward show vers a much less testing and hazardous basis for rivalry, for here, given certain material conditions, every man could set hie own terms: the extent of his achievement rested with himself alone, and there was virtually no limit to the heights that oould be attained by the resolute. In this race for pre-eminence all vho oould afford to enter, and who were able to stand the pace, oould be sure of a prise. The urge towards ostentation was heightened by the faet that the tournament was becoming more and more a social oooasion, attended by a considerable amount of publicity. Participants were no longer engaged in a simple match of strength and skill among themselves, but were striving to eclipse each other in a presence of a large audience that included, besides their f eHov-knlghta, ladies, minstrels, retainers, townsfolk and peasants, pausing an their rustic errands, like old Helmbreoht, to gape and wonder. The valour and address by which, in the days of the old running frays, the knights had sought to distinguish them­ selves in the eyes of their peers, oould not be expertly judged | nor perhaps even recognized, by this very mixed company of spectators* Amid the mSlde of the tournament proper the general dust and confusion would tend to conceal individual prowess from all but those actually involved in the contest* Even the joust9 which was specially designed to give each knight in turn an opportunity to enjoy the limelight, was over so quickly that only the experienced eye could appreciate the fine points of dexterity on which success or failure depended* It is true that others besides knights - for example, many ladies of rank - became enthusiastic connoisseurs of the joust» able to relish technicalities for their own sake* But something more sensational was needed to Impress the crowd and win its approbation, and this could best be provided by exploiting what Veblen has described as the principle of "conspicuous consumption" • ^ Borne of this consumption was unavoidable once the tournament became above all a public spectacle* An arena had to be cleared and marked off by barriers, lists had to be set up and stands erected for the principal spectators* Round this arena the knights taking part, who had in many cases come seme distance, pitched their tents in a great encampment where grooms and cooks, armourers and seamstresses, 1# ,Tflbl „S£e BMfflg-tf th* 1*1 Qi (»•» •ork 1912/, pp* 68ff• chaplains and leeches, pedlars and minstrels jostled each other for room. All this apparatus, together with the knight's horse and armour, demanded a considerable monetary outlay. nevertheless, these vere the mere essentials, from vhioh no particular honour or glory oould aoorue. Honour oonslsted In going as far as possible beyond vhat was needful, sad more and more money was poured out on actual personal equipment. Tents had to be more numerous and splendid} extra horses and suits of armour vere assembled In reserve; the oult of armorial bearings necessitated the provision of blazoned crests and surooats, shields and banners, not to speak of caparisons for the horses. Nor vas this expenditure Halted to the person of the knight. He gathered round him a troop of followers whose sole funotion was to be (using once again Veblen's admirable phrase) "instruments of vloarlous consumption" - living advertisements vho displayed their master's livery,1 1. The use of livery In the tournament seems to have established itself quite early, and many examples from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries oould be quoted, e.g. 73,3ff i sin helm "r"T| 7 ~ u swelf seer grot aevar./ aln knah^xrOen. ir it a m jmtti .» sehzlc ,~esflllen dlo cr i:eW Mohave been dreoacd _ Und .gufl flL to-ftr .waft ittg g flW fli- J fl / 265 is complete without a mention of the latipienra, the varndiu diet, and many a knight most hare found them his undoing, like the man of whom Caesarlus of Heisterbech writesi- Causfi enja, lftudlQ t M O B M S S E m S tfttMfil, &S&UtM iflflag* man v;t win 3 who 110 ... n'avoiont point d'eritage, Qua tout n'dussent mis en gage, Terres et boio et tenemens, for ouirre lee tornoiemen*. She moralists of the time, as one might expect, castigated the folly of those who courted poverty in pursuit of worldly vanities*- Haxime cum eorura domlni prodigalltati vaoantes et luxui pro Torneamentis et pomposa saeouli vanitate expenslf superfluis et debitis aatringebantur et usuris.4 The more indulgent verdict of their peers proclaimed them martyrs to the cause of honour; so it is said of the hero of pie, alte Mutter i-3 1. 24-» So. TI. 2. G4,, Ho. 1X.TT. 3. *&., Ho. V. 4. Jacques de Vitry, Hist.Oceld.. Book 2, chap. 3 (quoted Du Cange, Piss. V l T p T m T T 3. 24., Ho. V. 269 35 Des vlouk sin lop ttber velt r er vertet slner huoben gelt als nan Belt, n&ch werdikoit 55 und vertet unde gemn als ein Srbaerer man. But either way their reokleesness is not without its tragic aspect, since In ruining themselves they hastened the ruin of those very ideals for which they had thrown away their substance. 4. "Be la narration de ce Bon Moine voua apprendres, OentUhoeme lecteur, que oes Behours et Tournoyemens n'estoient presque jamais sans effusion de sang, et qu'il y en avoit tousjours quelqu’un de mal disnl, et qui payolt l'escot de eeste Peste aux aespens de sa Tie,"1 It was not only in the figurative sense that the tournament - to use Shakespeare's phrase - broke men's backs. We have seen how the knight in le Prestos et le Chevalier returns home not merely Impoverished but beaten up as well. Be was fortunate to have escaped so lightly. Bruises, outs and sprains were taken for granted in the tourney, as Ulrich makes only too olear, for example, in his account of the fighting at FrieSaoht- 1* $ndr? i'Agaasy fit, A?(Paris 1620), p. 1302, 270 84,26 Hit sohllden manic grfisen stfiz wart geotftzen dort und hie, d£ von geswellen ciuosten knle. peule, wunden dA gswn ▼on spern rll manic biderb man. mit ringcn tfitena w8 ir liden, dor wart rll maniges dA Torridon. The Anglo-Homan fft paints an even more dismal picture of the battered oonditlon to whioh a knight might be reducedi- 217 Ear, quant 11 vendra d'un tomois Men batu, e a fleble arroie, Of loa oes enaenglauntees, S sec jauabes e see braa, Rafrez, fleblee, feints e laas, B tot le 00X1)0 deberdillez ... Many emerged from the m&Lde permanently disabled, like William Longeepde, son of the Bari of Salisbury, a natural son of Henry II, who received such injuries at a tournament 2 at Blyth in 1256 that he m s never the same man again. Others had the wits beaten out of them for life, like Count Robert of Clermont, the youngest son of St. Louis and brother of King Philip III, a handsome and generous youth of twenty-two, who In his very first tourney as a freahly- 1. Bd. P. Meyer (Romania XXXVII, 1906, pp. 221ff.). Cf. also the Touraol de Qhauvsnmr. 3816ff.i Hout uar.eatoit [m" t detam K t , / ^ 2. Matthew Paris, Chron.maJ.. V, p. 557. dubbed knight a m m JmASES. E^&StaeMi H "HW.49Pffl lotlbus super oaput nlurlee et fortlter peg oercbrl lntonltus, aeoldlt in aaantinm perpetuam.1 Among those who actually met their deaths in the tournament were several princes, dukes and others of the highest nobility. The list reaehes far back into the twelfth century, though* judging from the records of the time* it was the thirteenth century that saw the greatest number of casualties. A few examples may suffice. The death of Konrad, a m of the Margrave of Meissen, in 1175 has already been mentioned. In 1186 Geoffrey of Brittany, the third eon of Henry II, fell from bis horse 2 and was trampled to death. In 1194 the horse of Leopold VI of Austria fell, inflicting such injuries on the rider that he died shortly after.^ In 1216 Geoffrey de Haadevllle, Bari of Essex, was killed by a lance-thrust.^ In 1223 Count Florent of Holland and Count Philip of Boulogne and 2. Benedict of Peterborough, Ga&tjft RflflLfl (Rolls Edn.), I, p. 350. 3* See the article on Leopold in the Allrcaelno Deutsche Blograohls. 4. Roger de vendover, Flores HiBtcarfarua (Rolls Edn.),II, p. 176 272 Clermont vere killed at Corbie 1 In 1234 another Count Florent of Holland, the fourth of that name, was trampled to death, and four years later his brother William perished 2 in the same way. In 1241, the year of the disaster at Reuse, Gilbert, Earl of Pembroke, was tourneying at Hertford; his reins broke as he was spurring his horse to a gallop, the horse, flinging its head baek, struck him a violent blow on the body, stunning him so that he fell from the saddle, to be dragged for some distance by one foot oaugjht in the stirrup; when eventually the herse was brought under oantrol, his Injuries were beyond all healing and after some days of excruciating pain he died/ In 1268 Margrave John of Brandenburg was killed at Merseburg/ In 1279 Landfrled of Hohenlandsberg was auffooatus at 8traaeburg where, thirty years before, to the very day, hie father had mat a similar fate/ In 1290, Louis, son of Duke Louis of Bavaria, was killed by a lance—thrust.^ In 1294 Duke 1. Du Cange, Pisa. VI, p. 170 oltss as reference Johannes d Leydie, Bool: 22, chap. 16. 2. Seats Abbatum Hortl Sanotae Marias (MGH.3S. XXIII, p. 395). 3 . Matthew Paris, Chron.ma.1.. IV, pp. 135f. 4 . t e a . a s . , x x iv , 5. tansies Oolmarlenaee Maiores (HGH.33. XVII, p. 204). 6. sehulte, op.oit.. II, p. 116 gives a reference to the aonaritl^ggatenfeldeneia Chronioon de Qestis Prlnoloum. John of Brabant, one of the most experienced j ousters In Europe, was killed by a Frenoh knight at hia own tournament at Bar-rrur-Aube.1 And the eatalogue could be prolonged up to 1551, when the tourney at last claimed aa its victim a reigning king in the person of Henry II of France. These were great nobles, whose deaths would in any case be likely to find a place in the annals of their day. But a host of lesser men oust have died in the tournament, whose names and fate were never recorded. Only now and then we get a glimpse of the slaughter that must have gone on# If Archbishop Wlohmann was so implaoable in refusing Christian burial to Konrad of Meissen, it was because this pcatlfer ludua, as ths ohrcnieler calls it, had within a single year caused the deaths of sixteen knights of Saxony.2 Gilbert of Pembroke was not the only casualty in ths tourna­ ment at Hertfordf Matthew Baris relates that many other knights and squires were killed or wounded in an affair that began aa a sport and ended In deadly earnest. The same thing was said of the tournament between the men of the Count of ChSlons and a company of knights under Prince 1. This event oreated a great stir and is mentioned in many contemporary records j see Crlpps-Oay, on.olt., p. 29, note 3. 2. Chronlcon Montis Serenl (HM*aa.. XXIII, p. 155). Edward, later Kdvard I, In irrotT^ -»*«»— aaaguls effuaus eet. W w * HWJ non tornlamentvro aed aarywa bellum Ae Chalons oomnuniter 1 dloerotur. The barrier between nook and serious warfare naturally tended to break down more rapidly and completely when national rivalries were Involved, The classic example of a contest of this kind le an incident of the Hundred Tears 9 War recounted by Froissart, the "Battle of the Thirty", when thirty French knights met the same number of ngllahraen, ostensibly "for love of their ladies", but In reality to work off their feelings of mutual enmity. Many of the combatants ware left on the field, and of tha survivors there was none who did not carry the soars of the encounter till his dying day. However, not all the deaths oan be put down to the score of national hostility. Genuine accidents (such as probably caused tha death of Leopold VI of Austria) muat have been very common, especially in tha tournament proper, where the close hand-to-hand fighting and the wild confusion that resulted made It quite Impossible to prevent them. 1. Chronicle of Henry Knighton of Leicester (Rolls Bdn.), I, pp. 265£• 2. Froissart, Book I, part II, ohap. 7. 275 * T It la also understandable that In the general din and excitement the knights should hare been carried away by their fifhting enthusiasm and their ambition for glory to a fury more ruthless than they had Intended, or were wholly conscious of. Matthew Paris ascribes the bloodshed at Hertford to envy • "lnviAla multoru ■ ludua in praellun coamutavit" - and even hints that the death of Gilbert was due to foul play at the hands of a jealous rival. Jacques de Tltry, writing of the seven deadly sins of tournaments, assertst non parent lnvidla, cun unus allls invideat. eo cuod mu, -is strenuus in arads re^utetur et maloren lauden u s a i ^ t u r . .wanta siASa q.Il mas, stem p o gn r t lt mteJmgtifa ,91? tf#CTR AofrOAtor jMaJdULli asd et lnde nuarfcum merSele assW& XSXJi&£2&2i&.1 This last Is significant, for it indicates the reaction of remorse and self-disgust that followed when the knight'a hot blood had cooled. However ungovernable their Impulses of hatred or envy may have proved in actual practice, there seems no doubt that the code of chivalric honour, in theory at least, set itB face strongly against anything in the shape of treachery or even undue violence in the tourney. 1. Jacques de Tltry, loc.olt Xhe sulleni shifty features attributed fey the sculptor of the stlfterohor la Naumburg Cathedral to Tlmo von Kisterltz, who killed a fellov~knlght In a tournament out of revenge for aa Insult offered a year before, betray only too plainly what public opinion thought of such an action* In the "lartrtl Post of Robra Hode" a knight oooes to Robin In deep distress) his lands and all his possessions are forfeit and he Is deserted by his friends, because I had a sane, farsoth, Robyn, That shulde haue ben myn ayre; Vhanne he was twenty wynter olds, In felde voids lust full fayre. He sieve a knyght of laneaster, And a aquyer bold* 1 Por to saue hynin his ryght t-ty godes both sette and solde. Popular exaggeration has probably been at work in this ballad, but it is true that the killing of an opponent In the Joust was particularly dishonourable, for the joust was not so muoh a contest of arms as a gams involving a demonstration of personal skill, in token of whioh it was supposed to bo fought with special blunted weapons. It was not unknown for a jouster to use a pointed lanee instead of a blunted one, either by accident or design, but any deaths that might 1. Child, English and Scottish Pnmiw f,o. 117, stanzas 52, 55. 277 occur In oonsequenoe would render him an object of deep 1 suspicion and reproach. Matthew Paris telle how a knight oalled Roger de Leyburne (or hemburn) attacked a certain Arnold de Montigny with a lanoe .quJas, m8F.9*. PPW&, ifoftHBrt* non fuerat hebetatue. and killed him. Share woe universal grief at hie death, but none grieved (or seemed to grieve, obeervos Matthew shrewdly) more sincerely than the author of the mishap, tfflj cojafest.lfl .pro fyUmft ft1\W .ffMgLAfl M / m T A t • Whether this "penanoe" was ever oarrled out we do not know. Most deeply regretted of all were fatal aooidents in tourneys or Jousts duroh diu wip. for these represented the ohivalrio pursuit of honour in its purest form, and here any transgression of the laws of knighthood appeared doubly heinous. In Marie de France'e Chaltlvel four knighte go to a tournament for love of the same lady; three are killed and one seriously wounded. One gets the impression that the whole tourney ia at onoe abandoned, amid signs of oextravagant mourning* 1. chpon.rnai., V, p p . 3l8f. 2. In the same way Philippe Mouaket reports that the tourney in which Will iam of Holland was killed was at once abandoned on hie death 30003; ateS -aJugfc JUL. * .B?.naj A t) . 278 127 Oil ki a mort lea unt nafres, lur eocua unt ec chans getee; mult eateient pur ela dolent, nel flrent pas a eeciont. la noise leva a 11 oris, unquea tela doels no f u ole. 135 Pur la dolur dea chevaliers 1 aveit ltela doua mllllera ki lur ventaille deelacouent, ehevels e barbeo detirouent. I ntre els eetelt 11 doela ccununs. Ulrich van Lichtenstein ie grieved and horrified when he thinks that he has slain hia adversary, a certain Uuprecht of Purstendorfj he can only retrieve this blow to his honour by retiring from the field immediately»- 278,20ff. man wdnt das wol, das er waer t6ti das was air hereenllohen leit; von leide ich abe dem velde reit in die herberge trQriclloh. mln lip was unmuotes rfoh. Ulrich grieves not so much for the man himself, as for his own reputation; the public gestures of mourning are, one feels, largely a matter of form. Only rarely do we hear the accents of genuine personal sorrow for this wastage of human lives. wolfram von Bsohenbaoh comes near to it, whan he describes the deaths of Zsenbart, Belakane's first love, and of Galoes, the brother of Gahmuret, both killed jousting for their lady.x But it is left for the ahanaen de 19 Parzival I, 454ff. and II, 978ff. an essentially "feminine" form of poetry, to convey with simple pathos a situation that must have arisen countless times in real lifez- Bele Doette as fenestras se siet, Lit en un livre, male au cuer ne lfen tients De son ami Loon 11 ressovient Qfen autres terres est alec tomoler S or en ai dol. She sees a squire approaching Bele Doette tantost 11 dezaanda a "Ou est mes sires qul ne vi tel pie^a?" Oil ot tel duel que de pltij ploraf Bele Doette riainttoant se pasma* E or on ai dol. Bele Doette 11 prist a domander: "Ou eat mea sires, cui je doi tant aimer?" "En non deu, dame, nel vos quier roais colort Mora est raes sires, ocis fu au joeter." E or en ai dol. 1 * 5* "Cist xnaintienent le droit meatier, Cist ont le pardon tout entler, Cist sont droit saint et droit martyrs, Cist doivent blen a droit partir As biens c9onore et loiautea A raalnte fols au siens preateo Je ne sal si gentil oonqueate p Pour conquester honor, qufest ceste • ••" 1. Bartsch, jy\, I, 3. 2. 3857ff. Thus ths tournament presents the modem student with s fascinating pussle. For its devotees, as we have seen, it might mean the ban of the Church, the threat of hell, the strictures of moralists and men of sense, including those of their ovn class, the displeasure of the secular authorities, impoverishment, physical injury and perhaps death. Tet the attraotion of the sport was so strong that none of these things apparently had any deterrent effeot. On the contrary, the enthusiasm even infected the enemy camp, as it were, so that many found themselves hankering after the very thing they were hound, la the name of discipline, reason and morals, to oondemn. Philippe Mouaket and Jean le Bel were by no means the only clerics to have secret, or even open, sympathies towards ths tournament. Although Honorius 111 issued a decree in 1227 forbidding priests even to attend tourneys,1 the Papal edict was so far ignored that the clergy had repeatedly to he restrained from actually taking part in them.2 A mysterious "pfaffe von dar Vrisnstat" is mentioned by Ulrich von Lichtenstein as being among those who oome In 1. Hefele-Leclercq, op.olt.. V,2, para. 653, P* 1463. 2. Three instances from the thirteenth century are quoted by Sohults, op.olt.. II, p. Ill, note 1. the train of Duke Frederick to the tournament at Neustadt.1 Bren the moralists vere not wholly Inflexible. Humbert de Romans concedes that "11 y a dans les tournois des ohoses tout & fait oondaranablee, d'autres qu'on peut toldrer, 2d'autres qu'on dolt approuver.Oaesarius of Heisterbaoh, while never explicitly deviating from the official view that the tournament was pernicious and damnable* includes in hie uneodotes that seem to indicate if not approval* at least a willingness to admit of compromise. He tells how a certain knight once persuaded a demon to help him to 9 in honour in the tourney for as long as the knight should wish. the devil is foolish enough to agree and goes everywhere with his master aealstlng him) .yq&..Msa.-toteajgio:rlfr<» AatonwpqnUff tttL.aHqa, j i h ^ .A « A i jB a £ S , le A ip t y o t u . .. g&saxa m w x r t* when the knight has covered himself with riches and honour* he repudiates the devil* employs hie gains for charitable purposes and is at length received into Heaven.^ The second, even more questionable* aneodote tells how a knight on hie way to a tourney stops to hear a Mass in honour of 1. £S&.. 473,6. 2. Quoted in translation by Leooy de la Marehe* op.clt., pp. 394f. 3. Book X* chap. 11. 282 * ths Virgin. When he reaches the lists the oontest Is already half over. To his amazement he finds his praise In everyone1s mouth, and a number of knights present them­ selves before him as his prisoners; the Virgin herself has taken hisshape and jousted victoriously on his behalf, while he was occupied with his devotions. The Kovioe, who expresses astonishment that the Virgin should thus aid and abet her votary in a mortal sin, receives only a vague and evasive answer, and the final moral of the tale is reserved for the end of the chapter; Virgo Maria non solum suos dUsctores ae dilectoa ad vitam duclt aetcrnam. iaofrefluentar WLML-alfliiB M, t e p m E m a i l s frBMgalmb.1 Ve have seen, too, how the bourgeois clamoured and strove to be admitted to the sport, in spite of the faot that their code of morals as a class, and their own better judgement, must have been opposed to it in every particular. Even the commonalty tried to emulate the tourney in various popular games, such as tilting at the quintain, running at the zing, or jousting on skates or on the water. Apart from class ambition and the natural desire to 1. Book VII, chap. 38. The & (£A-> Ho. LXXXIII) la another version of the same theme, Caesarius* tala, re-modelled by Xosegarten, was the source for Gottfried Keller's "Die Jungfrau ale Bitter" (No. 3 of aleben Laganden). 2. See Strutt. jtf. tfegJfcppto. gOngland (revised edn. by J.C. Cox, London 1903J, pp. 127f. and pasaim in the section on "Tournaments"» imitate their social betters, the non-knlghtly eeotions of the population were probably attracted in the first instance by the external glamour of the tournament, by the oolour and show, the excitement and drama, and by the thrill of competitive prowess. ..ere was a chance for the citizen and the oooman man to see the nobility at close quarters in their most splendid array. When such a brilliant throng descended cm a little town and took possession of it, setting up their quarters and parading through the streets, it would be a major event in the lives of the townsfolk. For the knights themselves the tournament obviously held a far profounder meaning than this. But it was so intricately bound up with their whole scale of values, it satisfied suoh a variety of needs on such different levels of thought end existence, and stirred up emotions of such a complex and at times apparently contradictory nature that from this distance in time and outlook it is very difficult to analyse with any accuracy exactly what this meaning may have been. One aspect of the tournament that commended itself to the knights was precisely its exclusiveness. It was essentially a olass phenomenon, and though the rest of society, in the rfile of onlooker, might alternate between disapproval and admiring envy, it remained above all the jealously guarded privilege of the aristocracy. The clergy, vho oould only taka part in flat defiance of the rules of the Church, were doubly disqualified. The bourgeois continued to be outsiders trying to force their say into the company of their social superiors, occasionally tolerated on aocount of their wealth, but for the most part compelled to fall back an organizing inferior rival shows for themselves. The common people were totally debarred, until, in the later Middle Ages, they vere dragged in to mete* crude sport for the nobles in burlesque oonteote such 1as bucket and sack tourneys* In this way the tournament emphasized the barriers that separated the knightly class from all other social groups f and heightened its sense of oaste solidarity* In similar fashion it helped to stress the supra-national aspect of chivalryf and many of the big 2tournaments were completely international in character* Within the class it served as a test or proof of knightly virtue* This was something of fundamental importance in chivalry, where the knight had an enormous 2* In literature this oould be carried to fantastic lengths of exaggeration* The tourney at Kantes in Konrad von Wttrsburg's poem is attended by the kings of England, France, Navarre, Scotland and Denmark, the Hargraves of Meissen and Brandenburg, ths Duke of Saxony, the Dukes of Lorraine and Brabant, and many others* concern for the good opinion of his peers and s corresponding horror of falling short, especially in public, of the standards required by convention, For those who took thsir knighthood seriously, ths whole of life was an education «m ideal Sjiisusb of* excellence. a ceaoolooo m*oceoo X of sslf-perfecting, indispensable qualities like valour, courtesy, generosity, self-control, ware cultivated with oonsolous diligence; and sines, with ths ne&ieval habit of abeolutiam In xaoz*al thinking* thooo (qualities urt definable In fixed patterns or formulae, ths degrae In shloh they were pofUMMiMd by any Individual could be measured aooordlog to an accented coale• It vta not an Inner pereonal ldfialian. but s soolal Idealism, in which the various nwrbers of ths group oould keep check on eaoh other’s progress in knight- llnces* lienee it wae nececeary to display these basic virtues not merely before the eyes of soelety as a whole, but In mutual rivalry* There was no hesitation or half- hittPMnsaif no fear of being thought priggish. virtue had to be paraded and exposed to public inspection. Whore honour was eoneemod, one oould not root on one’s laurels - to stand still was to allow oneself to be overtaken* This restless obsession with the idea of honour overrode the Christian principle of ths sanctity of life and the bourgeois prlnelple of the eanetlty of property* And the tourney, with its Ideal opportunities for the pursuit of 286 * r honour, provided the knl.hts with the fullest possible satisfaction for this need to convince themselves and their sooial equals that they came up to scratch.1 It must be noted that the tourney did not, for the most part, involve the loftiest and most spiritual of the ehivalrio virtues, those that earned for their possessor the favour of God as well as men - such things as integrity, steadfastness, Christian love and compassion. These qualities, by virtue of their inward and personal nature, were much less susceptible of definition and systematlsatlon. They could not be acquired at will, nor prescribed by convention, nor gauged by any olear-cut standard of measure­ ment. The ethos of the tourney was on a slightly lower plane, and one that was in oonsequenoe within the grasp of a larger number, being oanoemedfrrimarlly with the more obvious aspects of honour, in particular with valour (manhelt. prouesoe), courtesy (suht. courtolaie; and liberality (milts. Of thsse three, the most primitive, in a sense, was valour* Underlying the whole tournament erase was a positive 1. Such pas.sages as Fjd., 201,9ff.i ;ianic blderb man T J m ,.4skJBaLfliULflC fafituah • t e t & • i a M / M i i t bcxr y very clearly this spirit of intense mutu emulation. 287 J^r delight in the clash of eras, a feeling that warfare was the natural language of manhood. Barbarlanlam* after all, lay sufficiently close beneath the surface of chivalry to keep the knights perpetually spoiling for a fight* This aggrcesivcneea could vent itself in animal high spirtte - hQhar auot in its moat elementary form* ae harmless and epontai'-eous as that of email boys pummelling each other on the school playground! when hostile passions were roused* it oould also turn into ths most brutal savagery* Their inborn pugnacity refused to be entirely tamed, but it was eoEwefcat curbed cod refined by being harnessed to the cause of honour * ait jechildc und ait ease / ... filfrfrg BrtCg Y beiatten. as Ulrich puts it#1 The clusoic statement of this attitude la put by Hartmann von Aus into the mouth of y>1wp— nil Ich helse sin ritcr und htn den ain, Ama igh ouochendo rite clncn man* dor mit air etrite, dox* scwifent si ale ich. das priset in und aleht or laiehj p’osijt© loh abcr ini an* . ad hit man radoh vQr einen aan,0 und wirde warder danne ioh al.' In aooordanee with this principle the knights oontloued to . ohallenge each other te eortMt on every occasion; if the 1. ££&.* 68,8Sff. S. iwoln. I, 65Off. occasion wao of a festive or oeremonial character, when a large aompany of knights was assembled t when a general mood of exhilaration was abroad, and when an audience was looking- on, the fighting impulse was stimulated to the utmost, and tho introduction of the element of honour merely lent a rather more civilized tone to the proceedings, When hrunhlld is received by Krienhild at Worms, and again when Krienhild in her turn ia received by otael at Tulne, impromptu tilting breaks out as soon as the two esoorta meet.'1 For days before the set tourney at Friesaoh is finally organized, casual jousting goes on all over the field, in which the knights pit their strength and skill against each other, ostensibly, we are told, for love, for gain, for honour, for the sake of praotice ("duron lemon”) as well as h&han rauot. But the ardent anticipation o f the day *s exploits that makes Ulrich and his oonpanions lie all night x eager as falcons for the fray seems to strike deeper than ©van the service of love or the desire for profit* It is interesting to note that nowhere in yrauendienst is there a single example of an actual Egaucnturnior. The knights 1. KibcluafietOled. stanzas 584, 596 and 1355-1355. 2. f£d., 70,27ff. 3* £SL” 69,2f. i die aaht wlr. .iSaon JLn der /ilri/ wlr profaas to fight for th* honour of their lady, but the atmosphere during the contest is wholeheartedly masculine. The warrior streak in chivalry, that persists side by side with courtly elegance, finds In the tournament its fullest satisfaction. Something of this fire and enthusiasm kindles in the poets themselves as they write of the hard blows given and received, the dust and trampling, the eourage rnd danger. Both in Germany and France descriptions of the tourney frequently revert to the old warlike language that has its roots in the pre-ehivalric age; many passages in the Touraol de Chauvency for instance, are strongly reminiscent of the battle scenes in the chansons de geBto.x and In German tournament literature one constantly finds » 2 phrases that recall the heroio epic style, Tet although nymhalt was inseparably linked with the Idea of 8rc, it was not 8re in any genuinely inward or moral sense of the word. She tourney might be "honourable" in 1. E.g. the words of the heralds to the ladies, 543ff.t •... si se f on d l bachelor / hfflgjqaaa At.fi. ..Ift? that it me a test of courage and endurance, of indlfferenoe to pain or discomfort, of willingness to face hazards and ability to calculate risks swiftly and accurately - all qualities held in esteem in warrior societies - but only in a very limited degree oould valour by Itself serve the cause of ethical honour* The emphasis on valour tended rather to foster that more primitive conception of military glory which sets greater store on winning than on obeying any oode of fighting ethics* All the way through the chivalric period these tvo conflicting viewpoints can be observed, with now one now the other predominant• In the long historical introduction to &ajU..v?n..fisaflft rltfrrpgfotft and fere are frankly identified with national conquest and domination rather than moral nobility. The same thing also ooloured the outlook of individuals. For Kalogreant, as we have seen, the touchstone of fame is success. At Friesach, says Ulrich, the victor is acclaimed, the vanquished lelt von enotton vjuKwoaoh.1 Since material lose or gain was also at stake, it is not surprising that the knights frequently stooped to all kinds of guile in their efforts to win the victory or avoid defeat* The Eistoire de Guillaume le Harlchal tells of many such ruses. The poet relates, for example, how Henry the Young king, unable to 1. 70,24. beat the Count of Flanders la open oonfcat, has recourse to a trick suggested by the Martfhal himself, and thereaf ter used regularly by the Young King with signal sueeess. He pretends not to be taking part la the engagement, then suddenly chargee when the opposing side Is not expecting it and thus assures a rich harvest of prisoners and booty,1 The Count of Flanders too had hie own favourite stratogem. He would stand aloof from the fighting till his opponents were wearied, then - AiBSfl,/ o«aas oil aul art pros e sages . he would charge their ranks victoriously.*' In their anxiety to win, even the highest nobles might be guilty of the most unehivelroua conduct. At the little war of Chdlons tho Count of Chdlons gripped Prince Edward round the waist and tried to pull him out of the saddle by main force.3 Unmounted retainers - either sfulree or man of non-knlgbtly rank - armed with sticks and clubs were lastftira datJjalUiwaa le aardohal. 8748ff, s. ibid.. araarr. 29 2 r also brought Into play in increasing numbers. Their task W-B to knock an adversary from hie horse with their clubs* or alternatively to set on his horse in a body and drive it with blows from the arena or into their own "base", so that he might be acquired as a prisoner. If necessary they oould also surround their own master and prevent any antagonist from getting within attacking range. These kipper as they were called in Germany figure in nearly all the later medieval representations of the tournament* and though they were strongly disapproved of by the purists it 2 was found Impossible to suppress them. From time to time they even make their appearance in the romances. As a squire, the hero of Some de Hansav is armed with a wooden club, with whioh he defends hie lord by hitting his opponents over the head.^ Wolfram, with his unsparing truthfulness (sd. M* Haupt, Leipzig 1890)* 2762ff.t /hast er ge^nge^ if dee EvTX i tSlJEfla* 2, For the "kipper", see Nledner* op.olt.. pp. 23 and 68f. 3 and o mmsL ’**•* BSBtL. fejoi / sm .feat 293 in realistic detail, notes that even in the high and noble * tournament at Kanvoleiz the knights have their 'br/vt' aalflnt . mit iclujen.1 The cult of manhelt tends on the vhole to point the way backward to barbarism rather than forward to a more exalted conception of honour* A more effectively civilising influence was supplied by the ideals of courtesy and breeding {zuht ).Yet* although these ideals undoubtedly helped to counteract the rougher and mere turbulent aspects of chivalry* they also created fresh problems and conflicts of their own. For the notion of oourtesy was Inevitably inspired by many different motives at very varying levels of moral sentlmenFor the llite few it was the product T and expression of genuine gentleness of temper* delicacy and insight, consideration for the claims of others and soorn for what was crude and self-assertive. For others it was little more than a mechanical conforming to ths etiquette of the day. For others, again* it sprang from ths passion for discovering a style for everything - a craving for form in all departments of life. This "Wills zur Form" has been analysed in detail by K.J. Obenauer in his wor,: i;le Problematic dec fisthetA&chsn Itettsofafln in del* ^ deutschen hiteratur.2 Be writes;- 1» i^ £^ 2Sk2t 490f• 2« Published Munich 1933* (Diese Lebensfona) ... great das Uberschuasige, .lementare, urvGchsig Iriebhafte dureh Splelgesetse, Anatandsregol raid cchiSne Gebfirde aufa streagate ein, Die Anraut dee jprechens, die Gewandthelt des Sichzur— schaustellens t all dlae 1st Rioht nur zum Lebenoeenuss da; as hat zugleicn in dleser BBndigung wilder KrBfto oositive, bildnerlsohe Aufgaben. Gleiehviel vie eehr auoh hler nur ein diohterischer Traum gespielt wird, der Giber die Hachtselten dieser herrachattchtigen Gevmlten einen Dohleier von kSatlicher Buntheit breitet; da, wo man das ritterliohe Ideal in dieeem hohen verpflichtonden 3inne nlmmt, arbeitet es fraglos an der "lnneren Form* des Henechen, inden as ursprflngliche Roheit und.brutale Kraft in weltmSnnisdhe ilunanitSt umbildet. This refining influence made itself felt In the sphere of warfare and knightly sport as ia all other branches of human activity. So the mock combat becomes a social ritual, closely regulated in form and stylised in technique. Certain things come to be regarded as unworthy of a gentleman - the ignoring of the principle of "one against one", the striking of an adversary in some unprotected part, 'J the wanton injuring of the horses,^ ungenerous dealing !• on.olt.. p. 106. 2. Frd.. 285,31f.s Vil pfte ir Art dfi aeren mlr r l t e W 295 with a defeated opponent, and so on. Undue violence, personal ill-will and treachery in any form are oondenned as dishonourable, and safeguards are introduced to restrict them to a minimum. The tournament was finally buttressed at every point by outward ceremony| merit was publicly acclaimed and misdemeanour publicly disgraced) the actual contest was preoeded and followed by little interchanges of courtesy, formalities of greeting and leave-taking, tributes of praise and expressions of regret, aooording to 5 T _____________ ' ' 1. Of* Kalogreant's discomfiture at ths hands of ths Black Knight, Iweia 747ff.t 'Sr nam mln rog und lioz gdoh llKsn ... 1 doch enauot ;-loh niht,jAJigrc,/ crn bOt air nie die »re./ das er aieh wolde ans aesehanT. 2. Of. the opiaode of Hadmfir von KGenringen, I rd .. 269* 17ff.t 'Ioh aesaoh ad grgp unfuop nla / bLfilma ziten. das 1st vftr./ ais sl ^ eMt her .BadflMgT 296 aircunstanees, each with its appropriate acknowledgement \1 in the case of set tourneys on the grand scale, the fighting was offset by peaceful diversions before and after the event, by exchanges of hospitality, friendly social intercourse* music, dancing and other relaxations. All this undoubtedly did muoh to soften the inherent brutality of the tournament. Prom a mere rough-and-tumble it became a potential Instrument of knightly discipline, r * 1. Frauendionst conno.ion wl Venusfahrt Frlesachi fl contains eountless examples of suht in th the tourney. For instance, during he is greeted by a group of knights at B ..f-r.i.0— Bit A M C / BMUBt77 Ir /XUOK und ouch dag danto Ulrich's T opponents t tot d& laaaliyr that one of hiilb an1 polite regreti Ioh s eg iijit pir denn la tngonic evemente of hie uldis_u|sii,Z m When he 1 earns s has been Injured* he expreesea * ' nu wlzzet ■ ^ohocniu aalte/ lgl* f4o7*19f«). » auht in action ie provided by the episode of Kaoheuo von Himelberg* who commits a breach of etiquette by appearing in the lists disguised as a monk. Ulrich in his rdle of laiy Venus, refuses to do oombat with a monk: Alt M p A h L x tii ling by being unhorsed a ror defeated* but as he breaks his lance in correct style* Ulrich courteously gives him the ring he has earned aa prise like all the rest. and the polish and decorum vere more than juet a facade. But there are real dangers in imposing on something essentially primitive a covering layer of social and moral refinement which only corresponds to an authentic moral feeling in those oases where, to use Obenauer's words, "man das rltterliehe Ideal in diesem hohen verpfliehtenden Sinne nlmmt". She result is that the standards are pitched too high for the common run of humanity, and that rules whioh should spring spontaneously from personal conviction or at lsast evoke a response of personal assent are dictated from above by a select group, and accepted by soeiety as a whole in a largely theoretical fashion. Inevitably such rules are in actual practice often broken or ignored. 2hey tend to remain for the majority permanently out of reaoh, a noble dream relegated to the dream-world, while real life goes on its own way. But whan ideals are consistently disregarded they become in themselves debased in value; by their very failure to command respect and obedience they forfeit something of their intrinsic virtue. And mors than onoe ws have seen hew in the tournament the Ideals of chivalry vere helpless in faoe of the natural impulses of pride, envy, greed, vindictiveness, or simply the excitement of battle* Again, when confronted by a code of oombat too lofty for everyday life, men may attempt to salve their conscience and preserve their good reputation In society by obeying the letter of the lav vhile evading the spirit of It. fhe evasion may be a conscious paltering with truth, or an unconscious self-delusion, but In either ease ths moral vision is obscured, so that the shadow and the subetanoe of excellence cease to be distinguished. More, this persistent quibbling with ideals eventually produces a secret contempt for the Ideals themselves, which thus allow themselves to be, ae it were, cheated and duped. This danger was particularly acute for the knight, to whom honour among his peers was of supreme account, and on whoa In consequence the pressure of public opinion acted as a powerful moral incentive, But public opinion has no ranana of penetrating below the external appearance to the truth within - it can only check what lies on the surface. And the average man, caught up In this tension between, on one hand, the impossibility of actually possessing the virtues of chivalry, and on the other, the absolute necessity of appearing to do so in the eyes of the world, tended to develop a habit of mind which cultivated the outward requirements of good brooding at the expense of the inner reality. In other words, a double standard of manners tends to emerge, one for publlo display and the other for 299 less formal occasions. Even Ulrich, for all hie devotion to chivalric ideals, pays far more elaborate attention to the rules of courtesy during the Venusfahrt. where he io out to create a personal irapression, than, for example, during the tournament at Friesaoh. Frequently the cleavage between theory and practlee in natters of courtesy was even more open and unashamed. On one oooaslon, for example, five knights set on Guillaume le Har^ohal simultaneously and turned hin helmet back to front, so that be had to break the fastening with his fingers, hurting then grievously in the process;1 another time the Marshal himself eat on a 2 prisoner to keep him from running away; again, when the Marshal once offered a knight a choice of two horses, the latter did not hesitate to pick the better one."* let these same people, when society was looking an, would meticulously observe the oanvenances, strike attitudes of modesty and generosity, perform ceremonious acts of politeness, and generally enhance their reputation for correct behaviour. In the instances just quoted, the same individual still 1. iilstolre de G u m mime 1« riarrfahal. 1451ff. 2. Ibid.. 11231. 3. Ibid.. 6036ff. 300 has both levels of courtesy at his ecomand and o&n employ either at will. But appearances, cultivated for their own sake or ae a substitute for reality, tend to run to seed and eventually lose touch vith the spirit they were originally intended to reflect. that is, the gulf between what men are and what they pretend to be widens until ths two can no longer be brought into relation with each other. The fora, divorced from its inner substanoe, becomes an empty and artificial show; the spirit, deprived of its outward means of expression, shrivels and decays. Thia happened with the tournament in the later Middle Ages, especially perhaps in Germany, and accounts for the para- ~y doxioal situation that, at a time when surface elegance I and refinement were being carried almost to excess, the underlying temper waa becoming Increasingly degenerate. These twin tendencies, pushed to their extreme point of development, finally oulmlnated in such episodes as the state tourney at Nuremberg in 1491, in the presence of the Emperor Maximilian, which combined unbelievable splendour and ceremony vith scenes of the eoarsest and moot brutal horseplay, without any of the spectators being apparently f r aware of any inconsistency.3' 1. Schultz, Deutsches heben ii.i XIV. und XV. Jahrl pp. 481f. Zuht m o the principle of honour applied to social Intercourse, as nanhelt was the same principle applied to warfare! similarly, the sentiment of honour in the sphere of material possessions produced the ideal of one of the most Characteristic and significant virtues in the oode of knightly ethics,1 A l l aristocracies, whether religious or secular, set great store by the accumulation and display of objects of material value, and it was a symptom of ths emergence of the feudal and ehivalric aristocracy that articles of costliness, rarity, richness or beauty, which had previously In the main been oonsecrnted to the greater glory of God and the Chureh, now took on an increasingly w o r l d l y character. Costume became more sumptuous, and more subjeot to changing fashion, personal adornments more elaborate, domestic furnishings more luxurious, equipment for warfare and noble pastimes more highly developed. Knightly society was fascinated by precious metals, jewels and rich stuffs, by ouch things as texture, lustre, polish, ornament, and all the ether achievements of craftsmanship, and they sought to surround themselves with everything that displayed these qualities. 1* A very useful article on this subject by M,F, Whitney, entitled "Queen of Medieval Virtues! Largesse" is published n^ YftgbiW MfrjUevftJ, (»•* Haven 1923, But they were not esteemed for their own sake* nor even merely ae a delight to the eye, affording a purely aesthetic satisfaction - though this factor certainly had a share In 1 ' * « e a mIt. Like everything else, material possessions were chiefly of value as a means to an end; the maintaining and increasing of honour and good repute In the eyes of the world. They wore the outward signs of the wealth without whioh the knightly state could not he upheld, as indispensable to It as the outward signs of courage or oourtesy. In its most primitive and again in its decadent form this craving expressed Itself in simple ostentation, a rather childish passion for novelty and a desire to daszle and overwhelm by quantity ae rauoh as by quality* Costume, for instance, in the late eleventh and early twelfth centuries, and again at the close of the Middle Ages, had a kind of parvenu showinoso about it whioh oontrasts strongly with the well-bred restraint of thirtoenth-century fashions. This instinctive deference to riches is particularly dearly illustrated in the ,*iarina/» charianaflna. Charles is so perturbed by the thought that there may be in 1, This "3oh8nheltsbedttrfhls” in chivalric society is treated in detail by Obenauer, oo.cit. pasalm. 2. Ed. S. Koschwits (Leipslg 1925). 503 the world another king, olua riches .d'aveig et d'ar et da denlera. that ho ooto out at onoo for Constantinople to put the natter to the teat. The marvellous rlohss of the Byzantine court so shake the confidence and self-esteem of the Franks that their morale has to be bolstered up with imba at the expense of their host and his dignity. However, when a series of ad hoc miraclea, and above all the Bight of Charles' greater stature and bigger crown restore their sense of superiority they return home In high good humour. In the earlier courtly romances the same attitude of mind oan be observed, There le a positive revelling in gorgeousness - eccentric design and overloaded ornament, furo piled on £urs and silks on silks# mrble and ivory painted, plated with gold or studded with gems, costly toys scattering music or perfume, every lily gilded and re-gilded, in a manner which reminds one of Victorian opulence at its 1 most luscious • A new intoxicating vision of magnifioenoe had opened up before the eyes of the nobles and taken their 1, We have, for example, In the Roman de Ih&bes the deoeri tion of the tent (2921??, and 3975ff») and of the chariot of Amphiaraun (4713**.)} in the Rnpftn ,2ygjLg the description of the nuptial chamber of Pari:: rvnd Helen (14631ff.)| from Veldeke’s Bnelde the description of tho tombs of Fallas (S264ff.) and Samllla (9413ff.)l from the Tristan of Thomas (ed, J. Bldier, SATF., Paris 1902) the account of the fWlft -,- -.' , •.r. . , *-"r\ '•*- • , • •- fr ' ' a # ^ *T7*£fe VF — r.313 Interests of the State. It oould also he made to serve private Interest. Boniface of Yuaoany, on his way to marry Beatrix, daughter of the Duke of Lower Lorraine In 1045• la said to have had his horse fitted with shoes of precious metal, carefully arranged in such a way that they would be cast along the road and picked up by the natives as tangible proof of his wealth (testana quod dives hie esset).1 Such ostentation may strike the modern observer as crude or naive or in doubtful taste, but at least it was inspired by a rational motive. When the desire to stage a sensation became an end in Itself, operating blindly, as it were, in a vacuum, men tended to lose all sense of proportion and plunged into crasy excesses of foie l&rxesce. like that Bertrams Kaiembaus, of vhom it is related that, at an irmnia festa (we are not told of what kind) at beaucaire in 1174, he had the ground ploughed up by twelve yoke of oxen and sown with deniers to the value of thirty thousand solid!. O which the assembled company vere then invited to search for. !• (,CHxSd.XiI, pp. 367f.) quoted by G. *»ris in the article already mentioned (Romania IX, p. 540). It is interesting that precisely the same’ gesture is ascribed by the author of hucus Korant. the Yiddish version of ths Kudrun splo, to Horant and his companions in the bridal quest (see the article by L. Forster in German Life and. Letters. XI, 4, 1958, pp. 276ff.). 2. ygi&SBflla (Bouquet, QP.clt.. XII, It Is at least possible that the feata in question was a tournament, and certainly, though a member of the oourtly society had to be laraes Aoun»re et biaus dsapend&re1 on every ooeaeion9 the tournament offered an Ideal setting for 2 the practice of largesse* Hence the constant association of tornoier with suoh words ae descendre or « fo r example in Marie de France's r-Ulua 321 j La despendl e turneia, and laoetlo 21f.: ,t AftgPjM&tlf. / £ .W.8 or ths X q w a itiU k lL JP w m U 2617f. t qus sans doner ni vaut tornols / I* nfflteftSt tornola* Many examples of tournament largesse have already been cited as shoving the ruinously expensive nature of the pursuit. One further instance may therefore suffice* Olivier de la i^ arohe* in his account of the MFas de la Barns 1. Housket* QPeClts. 28759f. 2. Of. Galsgan ft* where the author follows up hi* account of a tremendous display of largesse after a tournament by remarking: itotfRfiy. Aft. jafflifiAfflMt (6235). 3* As part of the technical jargon of chivalry this phrase seems to be characteristic of French rather than German literature» e*g. Houeket* Qiuclt,* 28747f. ti jrej- tournola / endi et dognola. that it ooourb in Horla von Crafin 275f.: >gh«a / was lm alleg sin lebsn CRosthe's e 275 to tmrnei unue jfeLen Lb unnecessary) ia a further indication of the closeness of the German post's debt to his French original. * 2ar toatss The fact lurnleren unde msndation of 3auvaige" at Ghent tn 146 relates hov the knl^it under­ taking the emprise appears for each combat in fresh armour and trappings, including superb caparisons for his horses, all of which, day by day, are seised upon and shared out among the squires and common peoples- et tantost les valieta et la com .une de la coapaignle coururent aux troie houssures de velours, lee .prinrent et les deacUlr^rent at en orm«t . b U ^ i s.pw* £&k\. ..p r tw itc i w - This episode is revealing because it shows largesse passing from the realm of conspicuous consumption into that of conspicuous waste, the rertuon which ie one of the key vorde of laviahness driven by competitive frenzy beyond the limits of sense and moderation into a vicious spiral of extravagance was almost bound to end in these orgies of wastefulness, which became so much a normal feature of ehivalric high life that they even tended to follow certain recognized patterns« One favourite method of incurring needless expense was the cooking of food for vast numbers of persons on absurdly costly (and unsuitable) 1. SzaltdB da Dug.l..JBflticiftige, Ralatlona da Paa d'.mors at. Tournois (®d. B. IroEt, Paris 1872), pp. 92f. 316 T 1 2fuel such as nuts or candles, candles were indeed particularly effective instruments of conspicuous waste, combining f7?’i . . . 4j.„, ex pensive ness, elegance, glitter and wasteful consumption to a quite exceptional degree, and they figure in many descriptions of tournaments and other festivities, e.g. the uoiaan de ^Kscouflei-^ 7762 Li cuens, por la feste essaucier Fist en la sale grant feu faire: Des olerges et du lumlnaire Samblolt cue la maison arsist. - 0T Oulllaum** de Dolet- 2527 Quant vint qu'il covint alumer, hors sambla qu'en la vile arsist Li ostex ou Ouillamee slst ••, Quo la clartd qui i fu mise S#en 1st hore par tantes fenestres Que 11 grans marchies et ,li estros Bn eetolt to* ©illumine*. 1, The story of the nuts is another of those floating legends of international chivalry which cane to be attached to various historical or fictitious personages (see the article already mentioned by G. Paris, Romania IX, pp.522ff,) The - to the knights doubtless very gratifying - gulf between themselves and the rest of the world I n this matter could hardly be better summed up than in the words, quoted by Paris, of the Lombard king when confronted with the speotacle of nuts used as wholesale cooking fuel: 'MflBlUJL ■yl ou toy yrqlrs fu srla./ Com ^ eapsndole^ t. .ylfaf t1 U marchle.;/ Btt son corags lijTtlent pout fovu» .t hrlaT/ ,U j C j u i w ^ 1 , 1 2 The account of the festivities at Beauaaire in 1174 ((todflis m U Udw . &E2fi >ebp,t ««.t St loc.clt.) relates that nu^ ■•llitee a.eua ha ho laAfijLteA?. c;x;. s .t _k-e4ft .aojlmp oanes 3. M. B. Michelant-P.Meyer (SATF., Paris 1894). 4. Similar passages occur in Hartmann's Brsc. 2374ff., rargl.nl II, 718ff” and Frd. 299.5«. However candles, though wasteful, were not wholly futile, elnoe they did at least give light or hast. Absolute futility, the destruction of objects of material or prestige value for no other reason than to demonstrate that they were expendable, seems fortunately to have been comparatively rare; when it did ooour, it led to gestures whloh strike the modern observer as the actions of a maniac, like the incident of fialmundus de Ventoul who, causa Jaotantias. burnt thirty horses before the eyes of his fellow-knights at Beaucaire.'1' She tournament, whose character was in its very essenoe destructive, gave unparalleled soope for exhibitions of conspicuous waste. The most striking example of this was perhaps the wholesale breaking of lanoes - so indispensable a feature of the joust that sper vertuon or verstechen. or the metaphorical dsn wait swenden came to be synonymous with jousting as a whole. Vlnabeke advises his "son”! ale W S & * gfr flta / als dir von a r te a t g e s la h t (20,5f.); at kanvoleis wart verswendet der wait (gars. II, 431), or again, wa&jr waEftUB AtJ sd waer verswendet der wait (Pars. II, 672f.)| we are told that Feirefls wart ein waltawende (Pars. I, 1703), and Ulrioh gives to certain 318 proficient Joustera nicknames like ^wendenwalt (Frd. 209*6) or Sosrrerser (Frd. 490*4). The whole aim of the Joust was In faot to shatter as many lances as possible* one's own even more than those of one's opponent. At first lances were simple shafts of wood* but they became more and more ornate* being gaily painted and fitted with pennants of rich or embroidered stuff displaying armorial bearings or other devioes. The destruction of these expensively decorated lanoes was of course muoh more honorable than in the ease of the cheaper sort. Gahmuret at Xanroleis breaks a hundred of themi- break all hia three hundred painted lanoes in a single day and still have time and energy enough to draw on his reserve of plain ones (MrC. lOllff.). Audienoe and combatants alike seem to have derived a curious thrill of excitement* a kind of primitive emotional uplift* from the crash of splitting wood and the spectacle 1. There are very numerous allusions to these painted lanoes gevart hundert ia wftrn gesalt diu gar vertet der fiere.2 T~ - and* as we shall see, the hero of our tale ia made to ,9ff» 2. Parslval II, 674f. 319 T or the flying splinters and shattered hafts; this Is put very clearly Into words by the poet of the lfreluruamllod In ouch explanations ant 566,S Hey was starker eeefte vor den vrouwen brastl on- 1366,1 Wle rehte ritterllche die Qletrlohes man die sohefte lleasn vllegen mit tx*unsfln*n dan hSho fiber sehllds von guoter rltter hantl But lances were not the only casualties of the tourney. It also involved extensive damage to shields and helmets, to the fabric of caparisons and sureoats, to crests and plumes. Here again, emotions aeon to have been profoundly stirred by the eight of the wreckage.2 For the splendour and fine workmanship of the Jouster*a equipment wae not 1, In the ease of minstrels who, with the heralds, wax's entitled to go over the field picking up the debris as their perquisite, this enthusiasm was further plunder (of. Pars. II 8. hero is an unmistakable relish In such lines as designed merely to take the eye of the beholder with a brave shoe; this reckless exposing of costly things to the hazards of combat was felt to be the esaenoe of nobility, which Ignored the counsels of prudence or thrift, and scorned to cling to material possessions t however precious or irreplaceable, in the single-minded pursuit of honour and glory. This view, ths principle of guot uabe / .esa, and again 12621 poet of the F*— p da »■ the orown- * the ehartber cto hie account Paris and lelens Plus Similar ©xpreaoions abound in the ,XX3£V)878f.« o j sion lihood a naif and since "besant", we may to boo.nng. OS 1X1 (UHUxfl; 66f.» a ,1 1 1 1 . besans. aoionally for greater effeot the actual coinage la as in the allusion to the sola tornola already cited The vivid, though omOTurdly espreaoed, allu- SSftUljflg la JS& A 91S . la in all lifco- sooe similar phrase in the French origi- the "Bavarian shilling" was another name for the guess thet the source contained sons reference 3480f„ or aafeaat 1ft. Ififl aurea non anel dTor Tit. douo CIO.Tfafcra i .tx. x m t Bren acts of private generosity tend to have a alight air of calculation about them, as though they were deliberately planned gestures rather than spontaneous inpulses of the heart* For instance, if fiction is a reliable guide to real life* the donor of a personal gift in the Kiddle Ages did not scruple to indicate to the recipient with perfeot frankness the precise oash value of the object concerned.^ Or if he failed to do this, society did it for him. In the case of social and ceremonial largesse the element of self-seeking and vain-glory was naturally more prominent still. This was notoriously so in the matter of alms-giving # where the left hand usually knew very well indeed what the right hand was doing# and the Chur oh was constantly forced to rebuke those who gave duroh ruon or duroh dre rather than duroh got. The same ulterior motives can be sensed where secular honour was concerned • le Thus in the Roland tamllie# offering Ganelon a present of valuable sables# does not omit to point out: Klclz a J tX ' Enide for her reception at court# she remarksi Ha Aft. A'ftrjqqt vaut / Vos ecyaiftt oeatchalnse changler (I635ff.i. 2. In Flaaenoa the poet mentions the price of gifts auoh ae furs ycustrc_^ ,rc.3.c^ terop, e, 3496) or a golden goblet tyn.j3.el ejmp dauratj^ JMI./.flt ittAlt, qftS9a que trop befl^e 3593f.)* In the von Michelscerg the king of France gives the Bohemian knight-errant after the tourney a hundred pound* and a fine horsei da* schatsete man an hundert naro (308). 324 Always, one feels, there Is the idea of a position to he asserted, a favour to he procured, a reputation to he established, wavering self-esteem to he bolstered up. Sven in their most headlong extravagances of giving or spending the knights always kept the end in view, however distorted or unbalanced their vision of it might become* And for this reason generosity in public, where prestige was at stake, could be quite compatible with stinginess at home, where non-honorifie expenditure was involved* There is an undoubted ring of truth about the chronicler's account of Arnold of Ardres (the third of that name, surnamed "The Young"): .JPWferteS .PfflflttlgML UWffllto ft allltlaa guldcuid mllltantlum «t tornlamentantlum conauetudo poeoebat et ratio, quasi grodlgallter expander*t. In natrla It 1* the sam* doubl* standard of morals that we haw* already noticed in connexion with the rules of courtesy, and here, as there, it is the tournament which reveals the tension in a specially acute fora. On one hand it engaged both the natural passions and the material interests of the T ("larges et despendang") diceretur et circa tascn npn .fern gflM at .t*te,..SLWSi 21m g " , / iold wss detested by his vassals.yt Clusa 111 a t or la Arden*i;^ (Bouquet, p. 440). It i* not surprising to l*am 325 T- knight to th© uttermost; on the other it confronted him with a code of honour whioh demanded at least the appearance of disinterested idealism and at the same time placed him in a situation where his every action was liable to be observed and judged by soolety as a whole« The result seems to have been a kind of tacit compromise* The ideal fflllte was never Itself called into question* and those who adhered to it consistently - whether heroes of fiction or of real life - were greatly admired ae embodying something which lesser men admitted to be sublime but were unable or unwilling to achieve themselves* It seems also to have been recognised that there were occasions whsn a man might wish* for the sake of honour, to surpass himself in open- handedness - for instance, if he were fighting in the presence of his lady, or of some lord with whom he wished to find favour, or of some setet and critical audience - but that these luxury attitudes were not for everyday use* To the average man it must have appeared mere foolishness to fling away on strangers the harvest of prisoners and plunder which he had been at suoh trouble and expense to win, unless there was a cogent reason for doing it. As we have already seen, there is plenty of evidence, quite apart from the irrepressible popularity of the 326 ..uot, that the knights normally regarded booty from a highly practical standpoint. This 1b taken for granted by Jacquea de Vitry in the passage on the Seven Deadly Sins of tourneying.'1' Hon parent cmlnto crlmlnall peooato. Id ost avaricla vol ranlna. cun unus aliuat capit et non redinlt. et eouua ouea cuolebat cum anals aufert illi contra quqa_y,ugMaap. praeveluit. So in the fabljau ^ 2 Chevalier, dc la Daae et du Clero ve are told of the knight* 23 Sovent haunta 11 les esturs, Ilekeg receut 1os honors; Chev&ls conquist, armes gaina. % and in Guillau;nr au IVucorr we read:- 374 Du ch&stelain vorrai parlor, Qui rorient du tornoioment ... Iv. prisons enmaine o sol, Chevaliers riches ot puissans; LI autres gaainz ost molt grans »M Bren a paragon hero of romance, like 3one de Kansay, can return from the joust looking like a horse-dealer coming homo from marketi- 11141 Hals tous sea ohevaus fist manor Quf11 ot g&lgnltft au jouster. St quant tout furent aroutd, Bion sanle qu’il oust eat< A une fieate narohoana U do chevaus oust bon tans. 1. See above, p. 224 2. *<>• 3. M - t xxxv* SS7 ilie contradiction ie, aa it were, summed up in the person of Guillaume le iardchol. We hare seen that for some years the harohal hod a successful career aa a gentlermn-adventurer, going from one tournament to another and making a prosperous livelihood - so much so that between one Whitsun and the following Lent he and his fellow- profesoional captured a hundred and three knights between them, aa well aa horaec, armour and so forth. Tie made no attempt to gloss over the faot that his one aim wao to aoeure the maximum booty. Once, aa we have seen, he sat on a captive to prevent his escaping; at a tourney at Eu he captured a horse which at the request of the Young King he was compelled to return to its owner, but he took good ears to re-capture it as soon os possible onoe the tournament Q ' had been resumed; on another ooeaeion, when two captured horses were stolen from him, he did not rest till he had M . ■ . . * ‘ ‘ got them book again. And on his doath-bsd, when the priest wss exhorting him to repent of hie sins and restore 't- U :JLgtffiJd o HNC#B&al 34SOff * Ibid.. SSiaff, 3. ,tbiM,.f 394uff» to his fellow-men everything he might have taken from them during his lifetime, he replied that thie was Impossible s~ Car j*ai prle .v* oeua chevaliers, Dont j’ai et urmee ot deetriers, B tot lor hemele retenu, 1 But when polite ©oeiety was witness of his exploits, the mood changes perceptibly. At Pleura near ipernay - an exceptionally large and splendid gathering - the Marshal refused to take prisoners or plunder, and the poet reeords this in words very similar to those used of Eree in ths romance*- Unques al g&alng nfentendl, Mals al blen faire tant tendi,? Que del gaaing ne 11 ch&lut• At a tournament at Joigny^ the atmosphere is even more chivalrous, Xhe Marshal, having captured a horse, publicly A gives it away to a herald, he releases his prisoners on parole and hands over most of the booty either to those knights whom he has taken captive^ or to the cause of the 1. Ibid,, 18483ff. 2, Ibid,, 5007ff. 3* Ibid,, 3426ff. , 4* Ibid,, 3485ff, The herald was also a minstrel and had just sung a song with the pointed refrain; feroochal./ 5- To give away booty to a prisoner, that is, a man who was in one1 s power, and who was normally regarded as a source of profit, not as an object for bounty, was felt to be the BfflAjRtet VA1Btt o f magnanimity. The hero of M we Shall see, performs an exactly similar gesture. Crusades. These gestures win applause from all present - ou’en 11 toraa a molt grant prls.1 6. Having this day ray horse, ay hand, my Launoe Guided so well that I obtained the prise ••• Horseman ray skill in horsemanship advaunce, Towne folke ay strength; a daintier Judge applies His praise to slight, whioh from good use doth rise; Some luokie vita impute it but to chaunoe ... How farre they shoote awry I The true cause is 3tella lookt on, and from her heavenly face ~ Sent forth her beames whioh made so falre a race. the reason for the unwonted altruism of the Marshal at Joigny is not far to seek. In the whole catalogue of the tournaments in whioh he distinguished himself it is the only one of whioh we read that ladies were present. At onoe the whole tone of the proceedings becomes more gallant. The knights feel, or profess to feel, themselves inspired to greater feate of valour(Por los dames QUl ilOC irent / |»i.ll.li..»ains, ftWRJAi. JM«C, 4B it. .1or 1. tornel 3524 ff.)»to nor. decorous behaviour (there is music and dancing, and in 3474ff. ve catch an unexpected glimpse of the formidable harshal leading the singing for 1. 3558ff. 2. Sir Philip Sidney, Somftj,.g.f AS.tfQpMJ. XLI (Cambridge University Press Edn.) the carol© o simple voig e o doa aon), and to magnanimous flourishes of the kind Just mentioned* The fact that this tourney (which can he dated rou/Jhly about 118C) is the only one of its type recorded in the Hietoire shown that up to about tho last quarter of the twelfth century women^ were still by no means regular spectators on these occasions. In the earlier cross-country skirmishes their presence would have been pointless» if net a positive embarrassment. But as the tourney became better regulated and more of a social event the attendance cf ladies came to be taken more and more for granted* Whether this was the actual cause of the transformation - another example of the refining of influence/women on chivalric society in general - or whether it was an increasing mannerliness in the tournament Itself which gradually made it a more acceptable entertainment for ladies of birth and breeding, it is difficult to say> both factors would in any case operate simultaneously towards the same final re stilt* When the contest still took place in the castle court­ yard or on the level stretch of ground in front of the 1. And not only women of good reputation j prostitutes flocked to the tourneys, cf * the passage from Humbert de Remans already cited (Lecoy de la Xarohe, op.olt,* p* 394f*) in which he speaks of the "folles femmes qul se rdunlseent I k * . 331 A. castlei" the usual custom was for the womenfolk to look on from the windows or battlemonts. On such occasions the feminine element in the audience would be fairly small y confined to the ladies of the household and their guests; though in the case of larger or royal castles, or of those situated in a town, the number of women present would naturally be much greater* later, when the tournament was held on a bigger scale and within a set arena, decorated stands would be set up all round the lists to accommodate the ladles and other privileged spectators.3 xhe resulting scene must >- 1. 2* 3. fhis was the normal and most obviously convenient plaee for an arena of the open type, whioh was retained long after the castle enclave had begun to be transformed into a township* For instance at Kanvolels the jousting takes place on the ulan in front of the drawbridge beyond which is the palas of the Queen, in Heinrich von der Tflrlin's Crdne led* dcholl. Mbl*d*iit.Vereine in Stuttgart XXVIIV Stuttgart 1852) 7699f.i Of der bragrie / frle .a&Miq .far §&,and 18061 > gg-Bfis: arstles (Bartsch, &£•» ,57), 147 and 154 J ■SE*. m / Hlohca fu 11 ous la tor antlTas ln?Xan>«no». when a joust.ame ca of the household run als Ulrich relates teat .s aoo^ Lt to begin, the gir: fensatrala p*r al*ls v»zer (790); --------- at 8aoil* die v r ^ o n v^l, (PjsL. 182,10); pictorial representations of the tournament, as for example tee miniatures of the tianesse Codex, regularly include a row of female figures standing or seated in arcaded galleries or windows watching tee combatants and taking the liveliest interest in their fortunes* An early instance of the provision of stands for tee ladies occurs in Chretien's Lancelot (ed* W* Foerster, Hail* 1899), 5600ff. where grans jw&% Is built for the queen and her attendants at Pomeleglol. have been very romantic and colourful, which doubtless explains why it is so often Included - often anachronlstically in modern film representations of the tourney. There are many obvious reasons why the tournament should have held such attractions for a feminine audience. One of these was simple curiosity; for many ladies in smaller or more remote castles it would have all the i excitement of novelty. Moreover, even when a familiar spectacle, it would always provide a welcome break in the monotonous routine of castle life, an opportunity for the display of new finery, for dancing, banqueting and revels, for a family reunion, for meeting old friends and making new ones -in short, a landmark in the course of ordinary existence, to be looked forward to and remembered with delight. . The jousting itself offered them all that could be desired in the way of sensation, including (at least on occasion) the thrill of being swept off their feet by a mass emotion not unlike that which grips the crowd at a 1. The countess in .-to^ lg von graQq who begs the hero: i s r , goaoUehe.Avan ich aesacii ______ ,,, - __ _ r counterpart in the ladies f ^nauvancyvfao onpea.r.e y&sn* / IS.A q s l r q n t ( f o u m o l d a d t o u v o tw v . 2657?.). Spanish bullfight of the present day.1 But these attractions were quickened and deepened by what must have been the most potent and pervasive element of all - the idea of courtly love. Its implications, recognized and responded to with intense awareness, even when unexpressed, permeated the whole of chivalric life. A complete system of thought and sentiment, vaguely felt or transmuted into precise images, created in men and women alike a kind of practised emotional receptivity to the impulses of the heart. In other words, courtly love was everywhere "in the air", and messages constantly travelled to and fro on secret wavelengths conveying meanings which we can no longer hope to decipher with any accuracy. Within this scheme of courtly love the tournament had a prominent part to play. It was not that lntellectuallzed or aestheticized form of Mlnne cultivated by the lyric poets, where the singer adopted a humble and passive role, asking no guerdon save that his chosen idol should accept his worship and deign to act as his muse. Nor was it the spiritual, platonlc form of homage that regarded the noble conduct of life as the one truly worthy service, and demanded only that the lady chosen should be a guiding star in the 1. La Curne de Ste. Palaye, Hemolrea sur 1'anclenne chevalerle (Paris l?c>l), I, p. 162, quotes an incident from Perceforest where the ladles, in a state of almost iysiorical excitement, tear off their wimples, veils, mantles, sleeves and so on, and fling them to the knights in the lists. 33*- pursuit of virtue. Both these idealistic attitudes are governed by the principle that it is better to travel than to arrive - the quest, the act of service) is more important than the attainment of reward. The tournament catered for ths more realistic (and, ve may guess, more common) outlook, that saw Frauendienat as a fsudallstic contract, in which the loyal devotion of the vassal entitled him as though by legal right to certain benefits. That is, a form of courtly love in which the winning and final enjoyment of the Kinnelohn is the basis of the whole relationship. In this contract, each party had binding obligations which involved a certain measure of hardship to both) the knight had to undergo trials and losses in the lady's service, but the lady also was bound to make sacrifices and take risks on herself, in order to fulfil her share in the bargain. A compact of service and reward was not, of course, confined to the tournament. The lady might demand all kinds of proofs of devotion from her knight before conferring the ultimate recompense.^ But the tournament was clearly 1. One thinks, for instance, of Sehionatulander and the quest for the leash, or of Lancelot riding in the cart, or of Ulrich, in leper's disguise,sitting among the beggars at his lady's castle gate. ths most satisfying way in which it might be put into effect. To the ladies it offered) in addition to the pageantry, the spectacle of a number of men fighting, at least ostensibly, on their behalf, and the flattering thought that they had by their mere presence Inspired the feats of which they were witnessess- Dames, pucellea i sorent Pour esgarder que cil feront . (jul requlerent Jole d*amour ... If this was the ease when the ladles were part of a crowd of anonymous representatives of their sex, it was doubly so when a particular individual could feel personally responsible for the whole affair. As spectator of a tournament devised by the knight at her sole behest and in her sole honour, the lady would experience a thrill of pleasure to which the secret nature of the understanding 2 between the pair only lent added piquancy. but it was no less gratifying to the knights to feel that a feminine audience was following their fortunes with intense eagerness, and that they were being invited to prove 1. LW Jm X 33ff. 2. Excitement, gratified vanity, the savouring of power, could hardly be more skilfully suggested than in the scone from VQA Crau^ <879ff.) whore the approach of the ship is watched fron a turret window by the counteas diu es alia* hate Kefruaot. and her rush of complacenoy, denied open expression, vents itself in bold and ironical jesting. their devotion to their liege-lady in a manner so thoroughly congenial to their own tastes} for the tournament, unlike the more idealistic forms of Prauendlenat, involved self­ assertion rather than self-abasement, and not only permitted} but positively encouraged,them to give free rein to their love of fighting and display. It also gave thea tha sense of "winning" the lady by prowess of arms or by superior brilliance of plumage} so that she became In a way part of the spoils of battle. It enabled them moreover to pay lip-service to the cause of love, while allowing them to be in reality actuated by other less exalted motives. And finally} as though it were not sufficiently its own reward, the tournament held out to them the hope of the most coveted prise of all - the Minnelohn. All these factors combined to make the moment of triumph in the tournament one of supreme satisfaction - the realization of the knight's most cherished dream of glory. It is the moment summed up perfectly by the artist of the Manesse Codex in the miniature of Herzog Heinrich von Breslau, where the victorious FreMflrmffig* the focus of universal acclaim, bare-headed, so that his features can be seen of all, surrounded by admiring squires, preceded by a fanfare of music and accompanied by heralds crying his praises, advances to receive from the lady's hand the wreath of roses which symbolises the rewards of lovo.1 \ To earn these rewards the knight had to give proof of the same qualities whioh we have already seen to be the basic Ingredients of honour. Love and Honour, the twin pillars on which the ohivalric ethos rested, were thus parallel and complementary. Each was, so to speak, at once the whip and the carrot - both the driving force that impelled, and ths vision of attainment that beckoned, the knight along the road to virtue. And each had something of the nature of an agreement between two parties; honour being a contract between the knight and society ("if 1 behave thus and thus, you as my peers arc bound to hold me In high esteem"), love a contract between two individuals ("my loyal service demands your loyal requiting"). Perhaps the main reason why the tournament was so closely associated with the idea of courtly love was that it called into play in the service of love the selfsame qualities as those demanded by the pursuit of honour. Cnoe again, it is not so much a question of the inward, spiritual, virtues of chivalry as of the more tangible external ones - above all, 1. This miniature, reproduced in the Appendix, is a perfect antitype to the miniature from Matfre Brmengaut's tirevlarl ti'amor. where demons seise in their clutches the •am-AdSfA engage in taulas redondas e tornoyamens per amors de lors donas. 338 -k r of zufat. manhelt and mllte. Courtesy was naturally an indispensable element in any knightly activity directed to the service of love, rbus Hartmann von Aue in the Buehlein includes among the counsels given by the Heart to the aspiring lover:- 629 3|nen U p habe er sohfine nach der alnne lSnei er el stihtecllohen bait. But suht was on the whole not the most conspicuous member of this trinity of virtues. Its practice was scarcely costly enough for really dramatic effects, and in any oase the tournament afelfce was not the ideal setting for parades of courtesy, though it found abundant soope for display In the formalities that preceded and followed the actual fighting. The most potent influences linking the tournament to the idea of Frauandionat have their roots in something much deeper - in the instinctive deference paid by human nature always and everywhere to valour and magnificence. and mllta were the two principal virtues by whioh a knight might hope to gain his lady's favour, for they involved him in visible danger and expense. This is what Ulrich means when be speaks, as he does repeatedly, of the venturing of U p und guot in the service of his ladyi- 339 6,2 S8 daz er herze, lip, guot git in ir dienest ale er sol. 62,11 leh wil den lip und ouch dee guot , duroh si w&gen, das iet mln muot. This is what the author of the thirteenth-century "Lattre 4 M M gaaa"2 »nans by the feat necessitating maschef de core ou de chataua which the lady is entitled to demand of her lower after six years of probationary service. This too is what the author of Moris von Crafln means when he speaks in line 297 of the achaden und arbeit which the service of love must entail. Milte could be considered as enabling the knight in a quite literal sense to "earn" the Mlnnaicihn. Not every courtly writer reduces the bargain to such mercenary terms as the author of the £i£UA!L Das .III. Chevaliers et del chains*.3 when he aaysi- 292 Tout son deepens 11 a pallet, St son amur 11 a donde ... • but the thought Is one that recurs constantly. Bven Wolfram makes Feirefiz expect some return for his financial outlays* 1. Cf. also 69|23f.{ 9 M 6 » 102,5f. etc. 2. Ed. J. Koch (itfgfflafhU. LIV, 193»sf 50ff.) and quoted by C.B. West "Courtoisie in Anglo-Norman Literature" (Medium Aevum Monographs. Oxford 193S), P* 1^ 3- 3. M ‘Do. LXXI. . J Sie hies mich miltecliche geben und guote riter an mich nemen ... . d& engein ir minne let nln I8n ... Worthy ladies, moreover (says Ulrich), detest a stingy knight t- 471,13 Dem 1st daz guot liep fCr den lip, dem sint von roht vint guotiu vip. - and this is echoed by the French song-vriteri- *** qui amie Vsut fairs sans boisdie St amer vraiement, Que ja en 11 n'iert assise vilanie, He oouvoitise d'amasser argent ••• Aina aims bonne coapaignis 2 St despent ades largement. * This view oould, of course, be interpreted from the idealistic standpoints the refusal of the knight to count the cost of his service is a sign thatllove has schooled him to rise above base motives of self-interest; it is a proof of an unconditional dedication that counts material possessions of no account except in so far as they oan be consecrated to the service and honour of a lady; it is a means of shedding reflected glory on her who is the source and inspiration of such excellence. But although the theory of courtly love assumed generosity to be a spontaneous 1. Parslval XT, 1036ff. 2. 6, Raynaud, op.clt.. I, ccxx. 3M by-product of love, demanding and receiving no material reward, thia exalted ideal could scarcely be maintained in actual life. It was asking altogether too much of human nature that the knight should remain completely selfless in practising largesse and the lady completely disinterested in encouraging it. Both inevitably demanded in return for their exertions advantages of a rather more tangible nature than mere inward ennoblement. The knight clung stubbornly to his hope of 16ni for her part the lady, though she naturally oould not be the direct object of the knight's liberality, could have the satisfaction of witnessing his noble expenditure on her behalf. For both the tournament offered the best possible opportunity of gratifying their hopes and wishes. Yet generosity, no less than courtesy, was overshadowed by the primary virtue of «n»nhniti in the words of the author of the Tmnffil ShBMmttr they are the &UUWUL of prowess. There is nothing new or surprising in the idea of a natural congrulty between manly exploits and the favour of ladies$ the principle "none but the brave deserves the fair" is after all as old and universal as creation 26i9ff* i aayojr dfYi* tult targggcc / SffJL MBff■ i JKUCfflMM. Jgaaafffa/ M* 11 3ftagM.» itself) but seldom can it have been so much in harmony with the spirit of the age as during the ohlvalrlc period. It is one of the basle tenets of the knightly code that the lady is "served*) and her fame and honour Increased, by exhibitions of superior valour performed for her sake and under her inspiration. Und sol air lmmer pris geschehen, dee muos ioh ir se prise jehen, . wan er wird duroh si bejagt Women are said to abhor sloth or slaekness no less than miserliness, and to demand as a matter of course that their knights shall show themselves capable of energy, courage endurance*- 3ver vrowen lSn verdienen wil, das muos geschehen mit arbeit;0 in 1st gemach an raannen leit. Sometimes this ritterschaft might taka the form of a kind of warlike knight-errantry, such as that pursued by Feireflss- Ich h£n in manegen plnan bejaget mit rlterllcher tat, das mln nil gan&de hSt , die Idlnegln Saoundille, - but its natural (and we may perhaps guess, most frequent) 1. 10,21ff. 2. £&*, 275tl^ff* 3* Parzival. XV, 1030ff* 3^3 M setting was the mock warfare of the tournament. Many passages night be quoted to Illustrate this. Ulrich, for instance, writes In his second "Buchlein"t« 151*, lb Hit manager bande ritterspil sol ich lu beiden dienen vil, dir (a Mlnne) made miner vrouwen. nan sol nlch offte schouwen In luwerm dienest harnaschvar, - and again, at the very outset of his career as a 5ouster, when still a squire, he resolvesi- 10,16 ... wil ieh ir se dienste sin, das mnoz nit rlterschaft geschehsn; man nuoz mich under helme sehen lr se dienest nine tage. We read of the hero of the Frauentreuet-1 30 er dooh nle verneit er waere in vrouwen dienste bait, mit ritterschefte nanlkvalt, mit sper und nit den schilde. The hero of Unser Frauen Ritter2 even dedicates his achievements In the tourney to the honour of the Virgin Mary. Meeting a girl named Marla he expresses his reverence for this nanei- 71 Mir let niht wan iuwer name se hir wan ioh mit sohilden und mit sper ir diene und alien vrouwen, ich wil mit sverten houwen duroh si, n&ch der ir sit genant. 1. gA., Mo. XIII. 2. 24. , No. LXXIII. Occasionally this warlike note is beard in Minnasang, aa for instance in a song of Hartmann von Gtarkenbergi- Venn vil si mir trftren svaoben der ioh hin gedienet her? aa muoz in ir dienste erkraohen. beide sci.ilt und ouch daz aper. But on the whole this mood is something quite alien to the normal spirit of the courtly love lyric, where the emphasis is on patient and bumble devotion* It is bolder and more vigorous, expressing itself in action rather than 2dreams and longings, and though not devoid of idealism, is still firmly in touch with the realities of human nature and human society. Unlike t^nnaaang it does not claim to be disinterested! the knight makes no secret of the fact that he serves in hope, and Indeed in legitimate expectation,of his reward:- Habt ir mit tyost iht sper verevant ftf frouven ldn mit iver hant * *. > Nor is there cn either side any doubt aa to the nature of the reward which the knight keeps so constantly before his eyes. It may be alluded to openly, either in words, 1. Kraus, Lledordlchter 18, 111, 7ff. 2. Cf• Obenauer, op.clt., p. 109» "Nlemand wird nun zvnr leugnen, dass dlaser von seinan engen Fesseln gelbsts Bros auoh edlere Krttfte heraustreibt, indem dless im Wettkampf dor Boston den ritterliehen khrgeis entsfinden, und nlemand vor der Oellebten sloh feige oder sohleoht darstalien will." 3- E£&.» 333,9f. 3^5 > such as the blftsllfitBt unbflv&n. aad similar expressions so freely used by men like Ulrich, or - even more drastically in pictorial terms, as in an Italian miniature showing a tourney in progress and a group of ladles standing to one side raising their gowns to display their bodies;1 or it may be veiled by some conventional symbol such as the rose- wreath held out by the lady to the victorious knight in the miniature of Heinrich von Breslau mentioned abovet but in either case the basic assumption is the same* Nevertheless it is clear that the pursuit of mere physical satisfaction in love for its own sake was felt to be worthless, if not actually shameful. Only a woman of noble character and sentiments, selected by the knight as a fitting object of his service, could confer the reward in such a way as to enhance the honour of both* 1'his is the reinen stlezen solt 2 den man von guoten wiben holt. 1. Vatican HS. of the thirteenth century, reproduced in G. Perrarlo, ' ' ' ' .* m..&BgggtealbnA sul-tamel iSL§.tJuSi 2. £n£e, 318,19f Zt Is one of the commonplaces of courtly love that one must choose a lady Bele et bone et sachang ••• Houneur prometans, St le noble guerrodon Des fins mans. 1 In the same way the author of Moris von CraUn insists that casual or mercenary amours are devoid of ennobling virtueJ- 409 Vil owacr-p ldnent boesiu wip - die guoten gebent hfthen rauot. This intense preoccupation with the idea of the Mnnnlghn - An wtbs? ifta? - explains the vehemence with which the courtly lover demanded his rightsi- Dame, se j'ai bien slervl, ^ue J'aie tel nom deslervl, , Faites moi dortaln pa lament.-3 Reasonj Justice, morals, public opinion vere invoked in support of his claims. Par bel servlr eat dame a droit conauiae. Refusal to grant the reward of service was cheating, robbery, repugnant to all right-thinking people. 1. 2. 3. V. Raynaud, oa.clt., I, colvlii. This point Is treated In greater detail in Chapter n. 1097«* (quotedJean de Condd, LaaglolSf J. Brakelmann, (Ausgaben und*Aonancuungen aus a* oeoiece a.rora. Marburg l896)t "Li vidame de Chartres*, III* 16* bh dl a d. G hl t d* ia.Phil*9 It was inconceivable that a worthy lady should be guilty of such disloyaltyt- ... es wirt ir minnen solt s6 ritterlich von mir geholt,, daz ei mln muos genlde h&n. Or in the words of Audefrols li Baatars ... qui aisane sans faintiso Gent guierrodon atent, truant 11 aimme en lieu vaillant. Dont ai je m'amor blen miss, Car en tel lieu l'al assiss Que ne porroie cuidier Qu'aie servi sans loiar. In truth, it was more than a breach of the secular code of honour,^ it partook of the nature of sin. The idea of the sinfulness of withholding the Mlnnelohn seems to have been particularly common in France, whore the word 1. , 373,2$ff. 2. Brakelmann. o p.cit.. p. 91 (App. to "Audefrols li 3* The clash between the conception of honour in love as prescribed on one hand by natural morality and Christian ethles, and on the other by the specialised code of chivalry, accounts for the complex and contradictory implications of the word &£& in MftpUJBm &?&*> especially where the position of the woman is concerned. Sometimes, as in 1360, feminine honour scrams to denote conjugal fidelity and chastity, elsewhere, as in 1308, lh-Ov, ?*^, etc. it denotes the fulfilment of the obligations of courtly love. pechla occurs over and over again in thi3 connexion. There is perhaps more than a hint of the french original in Marla Y9R vra4ft» Where the countess is debating in her own mind whether to overlook her lover1 s offence or no: 1270 Solt ich in des ungelftnet lSn, das vacrc ein solich sunde die ioh nimmer Sberwtinde. If the reward were unduly delayed,the knight became depressed, impatient, resentful:- Bweloh man der minne dienet vil, und im diu minne niht Ifinen vil»9 der muo® vil ungerafletes tragen. If it were denied altogether, the knight was infuriated, frankly declaring his service to have been a waste of time, energy and money, and regarding himself as free to transfer his allegiance to one more deserving of his attention:* Sver dienest dA die lenge tuot, d& man im niht galftnen kan, der ist ein gar unwiser man* * sus wart min dienot an ir verlom. 2* Frd -, 337,l?ff. 3. Frd.. *f!3,28ff. 349 The same expression - verloren - ie used twice by the waiting-woman in Moriz won Orafln (1301, 1328), when she is pleading with the countess to take the hero bach again into her fa tout, and the intensity of anger and scorn which his llege-lady'e conduct arouses in hlra betrays itself in his every word and action during the ensuing scones. Such perfidy did not simply injure the individual concerned! it struck a blow at the very foundations of the courtly ideal by undermining the whole elaborate structure of Frauendisnst:- 1310 Beg&t ir dise unhBvescheit, ich w&ene ouch niht das ieraen lebe der immer mi flf lftnes gebe •. gedienet, wirt im dits bekant. The whole matter is Hummed up with categorical finality by the Swiss Minnesinger winli, in words which he puts into the mouth of his ladyi- Wie sol ts iemer werden r&t? din euht, din manheit und din milts hdnt mich mit swerte und ouch mit sper ervohten under helme und under sohilte 1. Ot.x^ argjval XV, 10l6ff. t gift .vjLp.^ itf4ffflf.fi haz / von Ir dienstbietaere / op dir ungeldne.t. .waert. 900 salt heldeo hant in llehter wfit*1 7. n'rhis Is the monstrosity in love, lady . that the win ie infinite and the exeo'dtion eonflned) thatpthe desire le boundless and the act a slave to limit," b The Quotation from Winli’s Taacllod which coxwludes the preceding aeotion raises once again the baffling problem of truth and fiction in ehivalric literature. These words ore not the authentic utterance of a living person - the speaker is a figment of the poet's own mind, and presumably no more than a mouthpiece for his own sentiments* And ths suggestion of oonguest on the one band and submission on the other ie so flattering to the self-esteem of the author that we may well be tempted to wonder how far such passages as this can be taken ae a 1. K» mar tech, (drauenfeld 1886) o* XV, 8* .vox in the poet*a awn day, these lines seem to have made a striking impression* They certainly provided Inspiration for the artist of the Manesae Codex, . who portrayed Wlnli receiving from hia lady a ring as pledge of the Mlnneiohn before entering the tourney. The . miniature (reproduced in the Appendix) corresponds so *5*. ooon? 111 .Tgl SQSff. thatit might almost have been designed as anillustration to our text. 8. Shakespeare, f e m a l e . «I » 2, 351 guide to the conditions of raal life. In the sane way, ve might question the veracity of all the stock motifs of tournament literature. i*/hen (as for instance In Moris von Craun) a tournament is arranged by a single knight in honour of a single lady) is this reality or romantic invention? Was it in fact possible for an individual, unless he were a person of exceptional wealth and influence, to organise a tournament single-handed, at the behest of his lady or for any other reason? was it accepted custom for the lady to bestow her favours as the reward of valour? In short, was the whole contract of service and reward in love felt to be part of the normal business of life, or was it - consciously or unconsciously - play-acting? Questions such as these spring to the mind) yet it may be that they are only relevant in an age like the present, which on the whole takes for granted the existence of certain frontiers dividing the world of ideal fantasy from the world of actual life, and which makes no serious attempt to mingle, let alone Identify, the two. In chivalrie society, with its strongly idealistic bias, the dividing line was less sharply defined, so that the two spheres could not only touch but merge imperceptibly into each other, until even the people concernedwould have been hard put to it to distinguish plainly between the substance 358 # and the mirage of reality* Although there can be no doubt that the tour:*ar»nt and the idea of courtly love vere Intimately bound op with one another* the exact nature and extent of the association must still remain largely a matter of guesswork. Ulrich speaks with the aoeents of personal passion* but It Is impossible not to feal that rauoh of his "service of ladles” was inspired by a 10811*6 for military glory or by the fashion of his day «• a fashion which one suspects he did not always take quite seriously - and that the romanticised account whioh he gives of his feelings and actions is by no means to be taken at its litoral faee value. On the other hand, In the SSMTP.i Mphquye.^y, the ladies are apostrophised by the herolds* not necessarily ao the i linnadaaieB of the knights in the lists* but en tiasse aa representatives of their sex and types of womanly virtue* in an Impersonal hiji-flown jargon whioh to our ears sounds stilted and unreal in the extreme. It may all be part of the ceremonial of the occasion, a device to stir up on appearance of exalted sensibility, but are we entitled to assume that the emotions aroused were Wholly artificial? * Convention and truth seem to have been inextricably Inter­ woven* each stimulating and heightening the other* as genuine continent clothed itself in ritual or oonrauual forms, and theae forms in turn, under the pressure of custom or association* helped to create the reality they bodied forth* The tournament, in which both private and social emotions were involved to a quite unusual degree* provided a particularly fruitful meeting-ground for these two complementary impulses* But more than all this* it gratified the craving of ohivalrio society for a poetic quality in daily life* In a sense the whole evolution of the tourney* from a military exercise to a fin© flowering of art and manners* was a product of this attitude of mind, in which the element of courtly love wan only one factor out of many# Here perhaps we get olosest to the heart of the problem* Ths tournament was more than a prelude to the enjoyment of love, more than a chance to work off excess fighting energy, more than a pretext for rival exhibitions of wealth and prowess, more even than an opportunity for self-assertion and self-display* It was in lte very essence a flight from cormonplaee actuality, a projection into real life of a roniantic vision, Thero were many ways in which kni^itly society tried to oompel life to conform to a chimerical image of grace and refinement* Utilitarian considerations like convenience or efficiency were willingly sacrificed to the pursuit of 39* aesthetic values* The flevers strewn on thehall floor , the roses woven into chaplets for the banquet or scattered over the water in which one washed or bathedy the garments closely moulded to the body, the fairy-tale standards of personal beauty, the over-elaborate , over-decorated products of the seignorlal kitchen, all are in their several ways attempts to make the dream come true. And each time these naively ardent aspirations after the life beautiful must have come to grief on the intractable stuff of reality. The flowers would droop or beoome sodden or trampled into an unsavoury mess, the dinging garments would reveal ageing or uncomely figures, no amount of seasoning could disguise the flavour of stale or salted food. Art and literature could - and as we shall see probably did - provide a temporary means of escape, a compensation for the inadequacies of human existence, but it was in the tournament that the ideal came nearest to being translated into terms of actual living. It offered the knight a form of warfare more rewarding than ordinary fighting. War at home was a sordid affair, and even in the fantastic world of the Orient it remained grimly unaesthetlc. There were Intense hardships and discomforts to be undergone, with no admiring audienoe to observe his valorous deeds, no minstrels or heralds to publish his fasts| b o ladles looking on to applaud or hold out the prise of victory* Instead of the rioh accoutrements) the luxury gestures) the glamorous setting) there was the squalor and strain of real-life campaigning) the chain-mail under a burning sun) the faded surcoat, the sick horses, thirst) fever) isolation) and the ever-present menace of death or capture* The Church might proclaim unwearyingly that the Joustar was doomed to perdition while the Crusader held a sure passport to Paradise) but it is small wonder that these arguments carried little weight once the first wave of fervour had spent itself* In the same way the tournament offered a short cut to virtue. We have already discussed the importance attached to the possession of "virtue11 in chivalric societyt so precariously balanced between barbarism and civilization. The officially accepted code of ethics was naturally that of Christianity* But the ethical qualities demanded by Christianity - humility) self-denial) the subduing of the senses) detachment from material things) the renunciation of the world) the flesh and the devil) the lust of the eyes and the pride of life - were not only beyond hope of attainment) they struck at the very root of everything to which the knight clung most eagerly. With the emergence of a new secular culture people had once more become intensely 356 aware of all that this life had to offer, without aa yet possessing the emancipation of spirit that would enable them to enjoy it with a clear conscience* The whole ohivalrio period was overshadowed by this conflict, from which in the last resort it was only possible to escape by setting up, as a substitute for the austere teaching of the Church, some less exacting, more humanly satisfying conception of the good life* The cult of chivalry, and to an even greater extent the cult of courtly love, were in a sense accommodations of this nature, retaining the temper of idealism but diverting it into secular channels. Chivalry enabled men to feel a glow of corporate loyalty, of brotherly fellowship and good-will that transcended certain frontiers, but, unlike Christian charity, stopped short of the stern duty of universal application. In courtly love they could continue to enjoy the feeling of unselfish endeavour, of pursuing the unattainable, of spirituality, of being raised to a state of grace beyond the reach of the oonmon herd, without abandoning altogether the claims of sense and natural desire* But, as we have seen, in their purest form even the standards of chivalry and courtly love were pitched too high for ordinary mortals, so that here too practice was bound to fall short of theory. Indeed, it was not just a question of falling short) since these temporal ideals were hardly less lofty than those of Christianity itself, their adoption oould only lead to yet another unresolved clash in the minds and hearts of those who acknowledged their validity) and the effect of this fresh tension was to widen still further the gulf between precept, which steadily maintained a tone of sublime absolutism, and practice, which in fact had to make ever greater concessions to human nature* From the knight's point of view, one of the principal advantages of the tournament was the admirable opportunity whioh it offered for combining outward assent to ehivalric Ideals with inward compremise and evasion. Here, in a setting peculiarly conducive to an elevated frame of mind, he could play the part of brave and selfless lover in the eyes of the world * and perhaps in his own eyes as well • without foregoing his private wishes and interests* Here too, in circumstances more favourable than those provided as a rule by real life, he oould display at least the external virtues of knighthood on his own terms. In a word, the tournament gave him the longed-for illusion of right and noble conduct - almost one might say saintliness - without exacting the high price demanded by his religious creed. It is interesting to note the extent to whioh the 358 tournament came to acquire a quasl-rellgious significance. This vent deeper than the mere outward manifestations of rellgiony the Mass said before the contest) the prayers and invocations of the saints and pious ejaculations) which persist today in roughly similar circumstances) for example in Spanish bullfighting) it permeated the whole atmosphere of the occasion. In oourtly love there was always the suggestion that) as Steinmar humorously phrases itf eln anw« ttlnnwdln .lav rtftSt warfamtrtti1 but it was in the tournament that his sufferings approximated most nearly those of true martyrdom. Not for nothing do the heralds in the Sfflliagl .fla, fillMYWWy the battered and exhausted combatants droit saint et droit martyrs.* Konrad von Wurzburg in the Yfifl 930f. similarly speaks of Richard the Llonheart as eln marteraere / m LXXVI, 8. 2. See the quotation at the head of section 5 of the present ohapter. 359 relic. At Kanvoloiz Gahmuret wears over his armour a shift of Herseloyde's, all tS JMttt 1 H I ttl>2 and when It is returned to her, all tattered and pierced with holes after the fighting is over, she dons it again over her hare flesh) in precisely the same way Obllot gives Gawain a sleeve from her new robe der beta lr aeswan arm seruort.3 and this also is oarrled back to the girl, durchstochen und durchslagan, and immediately fastened on again over her arm.1* 1. 2. 3- b . This relit means eoni the Queen wrists with gold through which his beloved, Soredamors, had threaded one of her own hairs$ had he only known this, says ?.!. 1 ifi been the poet, en f.ejat / Saintueirg. 3j con le cult ' | M t .Ur , l9I ftt ailt (H 9 b W T . later, when he has Id about tho hair, ho can hardly restrain himself j I'awf, (1619). In the ,, whan the hero has found some hairs ./ queen: vunt anoror./ he Is admitted t ./ A ££& same author's from the head cojLjttce a aorgr U^ 72ff.)| when queen's bed-chamber puls vlnt au lit MWllMt/ S&ZJUL jt tant (t»669ff. )f and whan he leaves enuflects as though to an altar (b l.^ P9.E3 W73*fff.). Parzlval XX, 1275. l&U. 711, 1126. Ibid. VXX, 1580ff. The mm motif occurs in the fafriiUtt £flfl .III. Jhavaliers et del Cheinaa. where the lady commands that, to win her love, the knight shall go into the fray with no other protection than her shift. Two men refuse to expose themselves to certain injury and probable death, but the third is willing to entrust himself entirely to the miraculous power of love)- l W Do chanse mida armels sera Ke de nule arme k'ilh avolt. Though severely wounded, the ecstasy of his passion makes him quite unconscious of his hurts. The lady in her turn reoelves the shift back again, all stained with the blood of her lover and wears it publicly at a feast arranged by her husband, to the general consternation of the guests. 3*»3 Et dist, por oe k'il est molhies Dou sane aaon ami lolaul, Tient ele a parement roial Le chanse, car ors fins ne pleres Ke porolent estre si ohleres Ke li sane dont ilh estolt tains. Again, when Ulrich has one of his fingers amputated in consequence of an Injury received during a tourney, he sends it to the lady, sat in the precious velvst and gold binding of a M4nnabrl«f. like same relic attached to the cover of a costly Bible. For her part the lady (though steadfastly rejecting his suit) lays aside the finger in a chest where she can contemplate it every day. 1 It is a bizarre little 1 . g£&. 1*K),30 - 1*1 ,1 2 and 155,21ff. •pisode, and probably owa much If not all to the poet's imagination, but on that vary account, like the other more frankly literary Inventions of romance, It throve a significant light on the mentality of the society from which it emanates* One is left with the strong impression that the voluntary risks and bloodshed of the tournament induced in those taking part, whether actively or as spectators, an emotional reaction closely allied to religious exaltation* Not infrequently these feelings express themselves in the very formulae of Christian devotion. When Ulrich is Just about to enter a tourney, he receives an unkind message from his lady, and at once falls Into a transport of almost demented grief} a fallov-knight who witnesses this outburst flings himself on his knees with words that are an unmistakable parody of the Nunc Dlmittim- "Til attezer got, dec lob ich dich, daz dS vor mlnem tode mich hfiot Ifizen noch den nan geoehen, dem ich von wftrheit nac gejehen, . daz er wlp mlnne &ne kranc ..." The author of the louraol de Chauvencv preaches to the knights and ladles assembled after the conclusion of the 1. Frd. 307,13 - 30 362 jousting wa aanaqna / Malli d'amora at de ses channes. The tone Is jesting, but the theme is one dear to the poet's heart, as he himself sayst and there is an underlying warmth of conviction in his homily which prevents it from appearing merely profane or frivolous. He opens with a prayer - Benoit solt mil d i m amen I . expounds the virtues of true lovey exhorts his hearers to follow the example of the great lovers of the pasty and ends by distributing pardons in the name of Venus to all penitent transgressors against the commandments of Love.^ This homagey which reeurs constantly throughout oourtly literaturey to Venust Amor, Frau Hinne, as sovereign ruler of creation and ultimate source of all goodness is not just a toying with pagan fancies. For ehivalric society love, like Chrlstianityy had its history, its tradition, one might almost say its divine plan of salvation) the creed had come down through the centuries, each generation entering on the heritage bequeathed them by the past, and bound to pass on the message intaet to posterity) love had moreover its chosen vessels of grace - hido, Paris, Tristan, Lancelot, and the rest - whose achievements had been recorded for the i. Tffliaipxia..staminar.» ^301-wo. 363 edification of the elect. In the same way chivalry had its roots In the far distant past and had been handed down through successive ages in one vast unbroken process of transmissioni it too had its choice spirits - i*n. like Hector, Alexander, Arthur, Gawain - the chronicle of whose deeds was a pattern and inspiration for all who came after them. Whether in either case the record was literally "true" did not matter greatly. One of the very foundations of medieval religious thought was a sense of interdependence and interpenetration of the visible material order and the unseen spiritual verities* For chivalric culture a similar relationship existed, on a rather lower level* moral and aesthetic rather than theological - between factual truth as embodied in life and poetic truth as embodied in literature.^ The function of literature was not to imitate life, but to set an ideal standard which life should strive as far as possible to emulate. In literature the ordinary limitations of material existence did not apply. The heroes 1. For a detailed discussion of this question, see Chapter II. 2. The same thing naturally applias with equal force to the plastic and pletorlal arts of chivalry, with which wa ara here less closely concerned. The sculptures and MS. ill- umlnatlons of the courtly period are as strongly idealistic in their approach as any literary romance. 36>* and heroines of romance were not hampered by practical duties and responsibilities, they moved in a world of simple, clear-cut issues, a world where good was good and bad, bad, where problems oould be worked out to the finish without the distractions and inconclusiveness of real life, a world from which unworthy or jarring elements had been, or could be, eliminated, a world of endless perfectly-timed adventures and noble sentiments set against a social background in which the ohivalrio ideal of gracious living was realised to the full. A further point that must have contributed to the popularity of ths tournament was the fact that it enabled people to come oloser than anywhere else to the model chivalry represented by the company of the Round Table or the paladins of the ancient world. There is plenty of evidence that in the tournament they could, and frequently did, see themselves as characters of romance, entering into the make-believe with the solemn absorption of children. 365 They would hold Hound Tables, they would dress themselves up as knights of Arthur's court, carrying the game so far that they would use their noms-de-guerre even In private among themselves, like Ulrich and his six companions In the Afcfoiafahrt o' i2fco«- loh apraoh ... a* bindet helm (If, her Tristram, her farcif&l und her Ither! ioh veiz wol, ir bestdent eln her: doeh nemt zuo iu hem lenzilet und hern Erock: daz let mln bet, ? daz Segramura ouch mit iu var .,. They would draw up Imaginary sets of rules for the tournament purporting to date back to the time of Arthur.^ They would 1. There has been much speculation as to the exact nature of these "Round Tables", but It Is certain that some ef them at least Involved masques or pageants In which Arthurian characters were Impersonated. At the tournament of Ham in 127° the part of Qulnevere was taken by Marie de Brabant, while Robert Count of Artois - complete with lion - appeared In the role of YVain and comic relief was provided by a Sir Kay. Many other Bound Tables have been recorded, Including those held at Hesdln In Flanders In 1235, at Kenilworth In 1279, at Carnarvon In 128m-, at Bar-sur-Aube In 129H. see the articles by Ruth Ruff cllne, "The Influence of Romances on the Tournaments of the Middle Ages" (Speculum XX, pp. 20Wff.) and by R.S. Loomis, "Edward 1, Arthurian Enthusiast" (Speculum XXVIII 1953, PP. ll^ff.) as well as R.S. Loomis, jaljpffrt? BxamUft, ..IflttaSAwa 9f..MttmsAan. aqranc? (Medieval studies In memory of A.K. Porter, Cambridge, Mass. i1939). 2. Frd.. *t88,19ff. 3* "La forme quon tenolt des tournoys et assemblees au temps du roy uterpendragon et du roy artua": see the article by E. Sandoz, "Tourneys In the Arthurian Tradition" (Speculum XIX, pp. 3o9ff.). 366 organize tournaments with the trappings of Arthurian legend, 1 like the Ora 11 set up at the Uagdeturg tourney of 1281. Or they would copy incidents from other romances, such as the emprise described in Joh. Rothe's Chroalcon ytmriagiae. where a knight called Waltman von S&ttelstedt appeared at a tourney In Merseburg In 1226 accompanied by a richly-dressed girl on a palfrey, a sparrow-hawk and a hound, and challenged all comers to break a lance with him, offering the hound, the hawk, the palfrey and the girl, together with his own . . _ 2 armour, as a prise to anyone who succeeded in defeating him. The idea Is borrowed directly from the tale of Guy of Warwick, with the very significant difference that In the romance the hero enjoys the love of the princess, whereas at Merseburg the lady could buy herself off on payment of a forfeit in the form of a gold ring. Another real-life emprise conceived in the true spirit of the romances is , i described by La Colombibrei- J'ay leu une Emprise d'un Chevalier Francis (duquel l'histoire, trop negligemment escrite, ne dlt pas le nom) qui porta par tout, aux ftoyaumes de France, 1. Alvin Schultz, op.clt. II, pp. 117f- 2. Ibid.. p. 119. 3. Le vray th^&tro d'honneur at da chavalarle. I, p. 19. 367 d'Angleterre, d'Kecosse et d'Espagne, le portrait de sa Malstresse, sur un sseu, lequel 11 portalt descouvert, et lors qu'll trouvoit quelqua Chevalier qui ne vonlolt pas confesser qu'elle estolt la plus belle du monde. U floholt une lanee en terre, A y appendolt son Esou A puls joustolt avec une autre lance A se couvrolt d'un autre Bsou, sur lequel 11 n'y avolt aucun portrait} Bt lors que la fortune lul estolt si favorable qu'll renversolt le Chevalier qul osolt Jouster contre luy, le eontenu de son Emprise portolt qul le Chevalier valnou estolt tenu de luy donner le portrait A le non de sa Malstresse, eserit au dessous avec le slen{ que s'11 arrlvolt que le Chevalier Sntreprenant fust renversd, 11 estolt obllgd aux mesmes conditions, estant assure au reste par le senaent et Ia promesse de sa Kaistresse, que lors qu'll revlendroit avec 30 portraits de Dames ou Demoisellesi dont U aura valnou les Chevaliers , elle luy accorderolt son amour, A le prendroit pour son maryj ce qui fut heureusement execute par le Chevalier dans molns d'un annee de temps, ce qul obligee sa Kalstresse a le recevoir avec grand honneur A de luy donner la legitime Jouissance de sa personne. 1 The Influence of the romances Is seen also In all kinds of favourite devices of the tournament - damsels employed as messengers| knights appearing incognito, or under some 1* These last two examples are particularly Interesting In that both run direetly counter to the basic principles of courtly love. At Merseburg the girl Is provided with a graceful way of escape} the French knight alas at the legitimate possession of his lady In marriage. In such matters the urge to translate romance Into reality seems to have been outweighed by more rational considerations or by the diotates of orthodox morality. Hor have 1 been able to discover a single ease where the hand of a girl of noble birth or great wealth was publicly offered as the prise of victory, although this was one of the stock motifs of tournament literature, found, to name (GA. Mo. X). In real life the choice of a husband for anhelress or the daughter of a great noble was a carefully planned affair, much too Important to be decided by the hazards of fortune or by the skill of some stray adventurer. 368 fanciful name| or confusing the spectators by changes of armour, caparison or heraldic blazon. These masquerades, for all their picturesque and Ingenious character, may strike us as oddly childish and futile, but for those taking part they must have concealed depths of meaning at which we can only guess. One fact, however, emerges clearly. Virtually all of them belong to the period when chivalric culture was on the wane. We have already seen that the aspirations embodied In the tournament were not the highest In the knightly code of Ideals, but were set on a somewhat lower plane * chevaleresque, as it were, rather than chivalrous. The steadily mounting enthusiasm for the tournament In both France and Germany from the thirteenth century onwards Is an unmistakable symptom of decline. One feels that the knightly class, and even their bourgeois imitators, were using it more and more as an escape from the sense of disillusionment and weariness that always sets In whsn a brilliant cultural movement is past Its zenith, as a substitute for the higher obligations of chivalry, as a means of cultivating to the limit the outward forms of chivalry In order to disguise the faot that the Inner spirit was decaying, and to prove to themselves and the world that the present was no less glorious than the past. Zt Is In addition a sign that now values were growing up, more materialistic and superficial than those that had gone before, governed by etiquette and convention rather than vital principles, by manners rather than morale. Idealism was not dead, but the ideals had beoorae shallower and more facile. 8. “Die gansse Aufmaohung der edlen Llebc In Llteratur und Oeeelleehaftaleben ereohelnt uno oft unertrflglieh und lfichorlich. In den fierken der Vision, in den gekOnatelten Veraen, den koetbar arranglerton Turnieren kllngt die Leldenachoft nloht mehr nach. Welch® jedeutung aber dies alles - wenn ca ouch ale Llteratur Oder Eunat mlndorwertlg war - als Lebensschmuck, ale OefBhlaauadruck hatte, kann man nur dann ermesoen, wenn man Ihm die lObendlge Leldenachoft wleder elnhaucht." 1 What was true of life was socially true of literature. The poets of the second and third generation of chivalry were losing touch with tbe vision that had inspired their predecessors* Hot had they, with their rather pedestrian talent, the imaginative power and insight to create a froah vision for themselves, and to reinterpret for their own 1, J. Huizinga, lerbst dee -llttelalterB (Stuttgart 1188), p. 79, day a message that had already been given final and permanent utterance by men far greater than themselves. Like all epigonest they found themselves of necessity looking back, striving to preserve intact whatever of the inherited tradition still remained within their grasp, but adding nothing fundamentally new, except that, in proportion as the world of ideal chivalry receded from their view into shadowy unreality, their eyes turned increasingly to the living reality of the world they saw round them. This growing preoccupation with contemporary life and manners is not, strictly speaking, realism, for it is not based on any coherent theory of literature. Zt is the result partly of a failure of the oreative imagination, partly of social changes, with their inevitable repercussions on literary production, partly of the fact that these lesser men were on a level with their public as the great masters never were, sharing their more commonplace outlook and willing to accommodate themselves to their tastes, in default of any personal standpoint which would raise them above the level of the crowd and establish them as individuals in their own right. For such writers the tournament was the perfect theme. It afforded them unlimited opportunity for going over the old ground, introducing the old characters in the old glamorous mise-en-scene) when their powers of 371 Invention failed, it enabled then to spin out their material vith elaborate descriptions of combats, heraldic hi^^ana and jousting equipment, all following strictly conventional lines but capable of endless variation within a narrow range} it enabled them to provide romantic interest of a type for which public demand was strong and growing stronger. At the same tine, while setting the action in the world of legendary chivalry they could draw sore and sore on their own observation of the real life tourneys of their day, and create an appearance of verisimilitude vith the minimum of mental exertion. Best of all, the tournament raised none of the fundamental moral or spiritual Issues of ohivalry, with which neither they nor their public was prepared to grapple. It might involve problems of a social or sentimental nature, but it did not lend itself as a vehicle for expressing a personal philosophy of life. I’M 3 is borne out by the comparatively unimportant part played by the tournament in high courtly romance, especially in Germany. Gottfried is frankly indifferent, though he gives Tristan a supreme profioieney in jousting as in every other gentlemanly accomplishment. But Hartmann and Wolfram, both in their different ways knights to the finger­ tips, taking their chivalric calling with the utmost seriousness, could not fall to include it within the scope 372 < of their consideration. Wolfram in particular, for whoa every aspect of knightly activity held absorbing interest, treats it with great gusto and a wealth of technical detail. • ' * - f \ . r ; * * ";*s.. _‘ ^ ‘ ' Vf - * £ . v vy . v" : 4 - r “v; ' - b, . •, ■ C g^jc - And the fascination It exercised over Hartmann - at least In his youth - is revealed not only In the tournament episode In Erec. where the French souroe has been expanded to more than four times its original length, but also In the manifestly autobiographical scene from Gregorius where the lad in the abbey school tells how his mind Is full of dreams of the joust* 8tlllt both of them keep it In a subordinate position and do not allow it to encroach on the central theme of the work in hand* It may be Introduced ■+" as a prelude to the main action, as in Parzlval (and also, very lightly suggested, in Gottfried's i’rlstan). Or it may be used for purposes of dramatic contrast) the energy and valour displayed by Sree at Tarebron make his subsequent downfall even store striking, and In Parzlval the conventional prowess of Gahmuret and Gawaln serves as a foil to the spiritual adventures of the hero. Nowhere has it an essential bearing on the course of events* As the thirteenth century progresses, the tournament + cosies to figure more prominently in every branch of literature, whether In passing references and isolated episodes or as the principal subject of the work. The later romance writers 373 seldom fall to Include a tourney among the adventures of their hero. The poets of bourgeois origin seem to take a particular delight In It; one thinks of Konrad von WOrzburg, with his account of the tournament In Normandy from fineelhard 2^ 63-2879, and the Interminable description of the tournament of Schefdelre In 1artonopler 13313-17**^ 3| or the author of Ralnfrld von Braunschweig with the tournament at the court of Denmark, 190-2053^ Significantly enough, It Is among these men that the Turnierroman Is cultivated as a distinct genre, exemplified by Konrad's aurcrel Pantfhflta and Heinrich von Freiberg's Rlttarfahrt yoaJStahfrUPSra- I'he tournament even Invades the sphere of the heroic epic* In tho i.’ibaiungeni led It was there In the background as part of the courtly decor of the narrative, and In Kudrun It appears briefly as an introductory episode, but In Blterolf the tournament at Worms oocuples several hundred lines and is plainly one of the highlights of Interest* It is true that this furious mass mdlde Is, to our eyes, hardly to be distinguished from a serious battle, but the poet explicitly oalls it a tourney and uses many of the technical terms of tourneying to 1. Designated by tbe poet as ein rltterlloh runttafel. 37** describe it. The duels in the Kosangarten. too, for all their primitive brutality) are incongruously tricked out vith gallantries borrowed from the world of polite Jousting such as the rose-wreath and kiss bestowed on the victor by the fairest of ladles. Among the lyria poets Ulrich) of course) stands alone) though we have seen that the tournament motif does occur here and thore in the songs of the later MinnasSnser. The artist of the Manesse Codex goes even further and depicts a large number of his "subjects" in a tournament milleui receiving their commission from the lady, like Wlnli) forging their tilting armour) like Hartmann von Starkenberg) or donning it) like dor Schenk von Limburg and Otto von Turns) engaged in actual combat like W<her von KI ingen, Wemher von Honberg and dor Graf von Anhalt) receiving the prize, like Heinrich von Breslau) or simply on their own in full tournament array, like Ulrich himself, Heinrich von Hugge or Hartmann von Aue. This serious and frequently sentimental preoccupation with the tournament is offset by an occasional note of satire, as when Tannhduser, ironically enumerating the Impossible tasks that the lady has set him as ths price of her favours, includes a dig at the waltswenden of his day*- ... unde ioh ze file tdaont aper vertaete, ala mln her Gahmuret vor Kamvoleis nit richer tjoot, s6 taete diu vrouwe mine bets . sub muoz lch haben h6he kost. But the very irony itself Is an Involuntary sign of the extent to whioh the tournament and all its associations had become an outlet for the romantic impulses of the age. 2 Nowhere else is this shown so clearly as in the Yeranovelle. the "maara1. which establishes Itself firmly in popular favour in the latter part of the thirteenth century. The authors (nearly all anonymous) of these poems use the tournament as one of the most indispensable elements of their stock-in-trade. Von der Hagen's Qesamtabenteuer includes several Novellen. such as Hlttertraue (VI), S&S. Auee (XII), Frauentreue (xlll), Per Gttrtel (XX), Dgp 1. V.d. Hagen's Minna, l a w (Leipzig 1838), 2, 90, X, 2. 2. In Heinrich von Wlttenveiler's Ring the satire takes the form of pure burlesque, the coarse parody which finds its real life counterpart in the mock peasant tourneys staged for the amusement of the upper classes in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. George F. Jones, "The Tournaments of Tottenham and Lappenbausen" (PMLA.. LXV1, pp. 1123ff.) shows how the extravagance of the "tournament school" of rom ance naturally provoked equally exaggerated satire in the opposing camp, who regarded the genteel tourney not only as "insipid and outmoded", but as a perversion of the true nature and function of chivalry. 376 4 - ttftfi. italRrtCft (LX1V), Friedrich von Auchenfurt (LXV1I), Pnser Frauen Hitter (LXXII1), and the charming iifitJEBHMm Aarnlflf UVII), lrt which the whole action revolves round a tournament; and In others, such as Die Heldin (XVIII), It features as one of the main episodes in the plot. numerous casual allusions to tourneying and Jousting are also scattered through these texts, often in quite unexpected contexts, which confirm the general Impression that the world of the tournament was never very far from the minds either of the poets or of the public to which they addressed themselves. Neverthelessi turning to France, one sees that the ^ place occupied by the tournament in literature and life alike was more prominent still. It is not Just that in France the whole process of the rise and fall of chivalry took place some decades earlier than in Germany, nor that the ohivalrio literature of Germany was for the most part based on French models, from the great romances of the Arthurian cycle down to trifling anecdotes. 1 The German poets themselves clearly assume that France and the regions * 1. For instance, Uuaar Uttqr is derived from a ~ French original, ]AL.^ Vflliar..u.ul .oolt. la posse et ^ t .yG-VaKg.,.:ptoli pqar .1^1 lgu riy-Joggnt. (Bartsch, L^gp.rt>.9 t^h,l.e do I' 12th ediu 1919, No. 59); °oth and fcrlqrffjqft yofi.,MfihPflfiUg are versions ®f P & L J lli. .9, : ;v oi. doi chaLsg, as .-.raup is of la chevalier qui recovra l'amor de sa dame. 377 ^ closest to French territory are the true home of the tournament. Ihe leading heroes of the joust In the romances, lilie Qahmret and Partonopier, are acknowledged to be Frenchman} the grand tourney In ^reo takes place in Brittany}'*' at Kanvoleis also the scene is laid in France (v,filels mValois)} Engelhard in Konrad's romance goes to Normandy in guest of tournament exploits; the lraaglnary tourney o t .iantheiz is located in France no leas than the historical ultterfahrt of Johann von ydcheltfbergj the hero of aifttsgtm« is French (86f.); the hero otf 3le roldln is aaaaassa (iss)} the caatie m ^ ja a M ia .Tanttir is (S>* in tf, w 1®*^ that the ^ Burgundians, *7* (0804) are superior to all others In the joust because of the unsurpassed opportu­ nities for pructloe which they enjoy* Literature, in short, confirms what external facto have already indicated} the tournament In Qmmmay remained osoe.-tlally an imported fashion, carefully fostered but in many respects at vox'lance with native culture, whereas in France it was simply part of the normal business of aristocratic life. It Is significant that in France the tournament does not suffer,to anything like the acme decree as in Germany, 1, Hartmann has altered the names, but In Chrdtien'a Krec 8131s Antro Evrole et Tenebroc their Breton character is at once uppero .t. 378 - t from those divergent extremes of mood with which people always tend to react towards a fashion borrowed from abroad. It does not slip over the border-line Into faroe or Into grotesque over-refinement; it does not lapse into outgrown barbarianism or pander to the craving of the mob for sensation and violence) It Is too much In harmony with its environment even to be a target for satire and burlesque; there is no French equivalent of Lappenhausen, or Blterolf. or even (as far as 1 have been able to discover) of the German sack and bucket tourneys of real life. In France the tournament is not beset and challenged by alien trends of thought and feeling In the society into which it Is lntroducedt because it is on its own native ground. On the other hand, this very circumstance made it specially apt for purposes of allegory. Tournament allegory is not unknown in Germany (we have already quoted Pea Taufela Iletx) but it Is far more common in France, where words and ideas connected with tourneying seem to have been absorbed into popular consciousness to such an extent that they came as though unbidden to the mind, suggesting all kinds of 1 1. The French Igltfftgl’aflBftfr exists in three ■T versions (Boussuat, flaml, MfrflbgrapMfflM Jg jSLiAtt. franaalae du taoven age. Paris 1991. Mos. .*633-5) is an amusing jest rather than a piece of serious satire, The single German poem which treats this theme is itself largely influenced by French traditions. comparisons and analogies In the sphere of religion or morals which were worked out with considerable ingenuity and whioh doubtless, In view of the widespread appeal of the subjectt did not fail In their effect.^ There are works like the fl'Alttlohrtrt* and the lournolamant d'snfer: mere Is Jacques de Vitry's catalogue of the seven deadly sins of the joust, and even as early as U h 6 the crusading song ‘'Chevalier cult estes guarls"1* makes use of this motifs- V k9 Ueus ad un turnei entrepris Ant re Anfem et Parels, Si mande troatuz ses amis, Cll kl lul volant guarantir, tju'il ne 11 selent pas fallliz. This eager interest betrays Itself most fully in what one may call the specialist literature of the tourney. 1* Images drawn from the tourney were even applied in the world of nature, as when Alexander In his submarine 2. Boussuat, op.clt- Nos. 3516, 3517, #*07 (Supplement). 3- Ibid.. No. 3518* i* r. Connrich, VI t f ranaocue ui9A9.T 1 vllalle 1953), No. 1. The men who wrote about Ham and Chauvency were not, as in the Turnel von Kanthela. describing imaginary events, nor, as in the Hltterfahrt des Johann von Hlchalanerg, relying on hearsay, nor, as in giving free rein to their powers of romantic invention. They wrote as eye­ witnesses, and in their accounts, for all their frank revelling in magnificence and ceremony, they are realistic enough to take particular pains about technical details. In other words, they arc interested in the tournament for its own sake, not just because of the things for which it stands. It was the same passion for technicalities that led more than one French writer to compile manuals of real or fanciful rules for the conduct of the joust. 1 But a study of the romances and other works of chivalric fiction in France reveals the same preoccupation. Already in the twelfth century we find romances with tournament episodes, like frUEWftMffla 4fl Rift la,/ which had to wait a hundred years for a German translator. The two romances of Chrdtien which devote most space to the tourney 1. One might mention s he klvra $9? *gum?ia, of R a n d ‘Anjou i-Flgeac - JJuboia, Paris L 26)(ed. Champolllon-Fi uubo s 18 or the treatise M mar ,a, forao qH,'QaJ,,gaalL.493 tpunwra ••• rtufl (ed. Al )honse de Blanrv. Caen 1897). 2. Bd. C.A. Crapelet, Paris 183k. 381 ha whflTaliai 4 and yllMg1 - did not attract the attention of any of the great masters of the classical period and only made their way Into Germany after the zenith of ehivalric culture was past. Again in the lala of Marie de France there are many passing allusions to the tournament, whose casual tone Is In Itself an Indication of the way in which it had already come to be taken for granted. Thus In Le Fralsne Gurun meets the heroine on his way back from a tournament - 2?9f. i A un turnale— nt a la / Par l'abeie returns - although this circumstance has no relevance what­ soever to the aotion except In so far as it provides the most natural explanation of how the knight came to be riding by. In Chrdtien'a Yvain hardly more than a dozen words suffice to account for the defection of the hero - 2670f.t Qai sa awmffito j,1m .v.ant. maul,/ fat, l93-J.au? ,pu lla p comole - whereas Hartmann expands this brief statement Into a lengthy disquisition in which the actual fact of tourneying Is quite overshadowed by the moral issue at stake, In the contas or courtly fabliau,., which correspond 1* A version of the ci.a romance (now lost) was aomposed by Konrad Fleck, c.1215-20} It was probably on the basis of this work that Thooasln von dirolaere In his .vclsch-r ■f Gast 10^2 recommends the example of Cliges, together with that of other heroes of Arthurian romance, as models for the younger generation of knighthood. to and largely served aa model for, the German rlttcr- aore. the tournament figures constantly, either aa a main Ingredient In the action, as In aa .aucon. Lee .III, chevaliers et le ohaineo, and fo gftgYiUgy w i rQQVm i or ae a recurrent background motif, aa In he valr palefrol. 1 Le chevalier, la datae et le clerc. j* nreotre et le chevalier, and others. It appears uloo, though to a lesser degree, In such characteristically French genres as the ohanaon d'lalstolx^ e. with or i M S C et .nrailea. and even the oantourello. as when the knight sings In the flm,J& JIS& iSU lt ■ 9 Je ms repalrole du tornoieroerit, 31 trouvai arote seule au oors gent ... The ESSMM UMAatm« * M F M M A'jaMnteEl8 are of partleular Interest In this oonnezlon. In nearly every ease (ths principal exceptions being t-» nhnatniftina da vargy and La eomtease d'Attlou) ths lows Intrigue Is so constructed as to necessitate at least one tonrruper.t episode, which Is 1. Ed. A. Lingfors (Clare, fr. d^n.a., Paris 1027 , 3rd edn.) 2. Ed. E. Langlols (Class, fr. d.m.a«, Paris 1324) 3. ?heso works are discussed in detail In Chapter II, 4, section 4, where full bibliographical references to nil the works mentioned here are given. described in lively and convincing detail and which plainly gave aa ouch pleasure to the poet aa to his audience* Furthermore, these episodes are without exception set in the frontier regions of east and north-east France or in Flanders - that is, in those areas to which we have so often had occasion to allude when discussing the provenance of our text and its French source* The tournament of Ham takes place in the Pdronne district and that of Chauvency is probably to be assigned to the neighbourhood of Montmedy in Lorraine) the tournaments of Guillaume de Dole are located at Tref-sur-Keuse (Maastricht) and St. Trond, those of Galeran da Bretagne at Meta and between Chalons and Hhelms, those of Le chastelain da Coucy at La Fere near Laon and Corbie on the Somme* those of Sone de tin nee v at Chalons, at Montargls, and elsewhere in the Lorraine and Champagne area, those of f'inm«nnp at Louvain and elsewhere in Flanders, those of Joufrols. Le chevalier fciattS. and fcq at Tonnerre lYonne), Toul on the Moselle and Thldraehe on the Oise respectively* In one instance, that of Galornn. the action is laid first in western France and then shifts eastward when the hero sots out to make a name for himself as a jouster and like Moriz von Craun 279 tumleren in die marke quan. It was not only from the West that they came to the marches to joust. From the other side of the frontier too the knights of the Bmplre flooked to those lands varre tlber ianan ain which were universally acknowledged to be the home of the tourneyf the training-ground par excellence for all who wished to perfect their skill, the place where past-masters of the sport oould always count on finding a worthy opponent for their lance, with unequalled prospects of fame and riches for the victor* We know that this was so from the historical records of the timej and the evidence from Germany Itself, In courtly romance or rlttermaere. merely confirms the fact. But no branch of literature In either country portrays these contacts between French and German knights so frequently or so convincingly as the mnndain. where It Is virtually taken for granted that at every big tournament las Ivols. leg Aiaman«. will be among those taking part. National prejudice was as strong then as now, and the picture Is none too sympathetic. From their vantage-point of seniority in everything pertaining to chivalry the French knights looked down on their confreres from Germany as uncivilised barbarians. Xhe Germans (they say) have no sense of humour - Ilols ne sevant sofrlr nul gap. 1 they make a fiendish noise when they sing - Tlaa chantant con maufd.^ they are boorish In company - 'Faudra 3 mds oe luarm'a damnin?' asks one of then, when the evening's entertainment is in full swing) they are boastful, orgueillos. but no match for the chivalry of France, and their discomfiture is brought home to them by ironical taunts - Se soamez mauvSs. AlMttFrt / vflrtea m t v&XUasa s^aa as sea ^ in Guillaume de bole the German Kmperor is presented in glowing terms, but the poet adds that such a man is worth a bushel of his latter-day successors.^ The inhabitants of Alsace come off rather better. Sone de Nansay comes from Alsace (Nansay, Naus&y « Kambshelm, near !ieu-Breisach), and he bears a Teutonic name - J'al non Sonas. non d'Alemlngne. 6 1. tartonopeus. 8755f. 2. Guillaume de Dole. 2160. 3. Ibid., 2397* if. Galaran. 5088f. 5. +8). In addition there are a Off Le chevalier aul reco— ° ^ff. *. " m,&, ems wVttJL and Konrad v.WUrzburg _ ... examples are quoted in "T Schultz, op.clt. II) pp. 119f- 2. Full discussion of this Important passage is reserved for a separate chapter. 3« See below) pg.4l6fand earlier p.257, where examples are quoted from ' p.4ie>r.. ana t>y n ifrauendlenst. Srec and flBlnfrlfl Y9B SramtacUW9lg» *+. See above, pp.3 l 8 f where examples are quoted from F rauend leftsv and ifazS-iyal.# 390 number of plain lances (719) which are held in reserve* to be used only when all the painted ones have been broken* As the ship (.ravels towards the place appointed for the tourney (755*57) high and low* old and young come flocking out to see it (753*61)* When at length he arrives at his destination* Moriz comes to a halt on the usual green sward before the castle (762f.),^ disembarks (76*+f.) and sets up his luxurious tent over a 1 . 2. This interpretation of thei : tin passage links the Plane of of 1015* and presupposes a lac719 with he blanken 1 * una of at least two lines before 719* in which the diu is taken as referring not to the plural of banlare tut to a missing plural of saer. The differentiation between the plain and the painted lances in this context is borne out not only in the phrase van den andaran y«und«rt. t by Parzlval VII, 96fft £l_fU2£ten eeii^n 710, bi geeeben in tile hant ^TASgSagi. if. z u flm_&BsaHi .vacen Cf. Frauendlenflt 166* 32-167,1» M rdfi wa,g liukg JBriLfln ftafr 8.49 .wftrsn .g.ctatfSfi .faffin' In the phrases £iU&r unde frouwen. graven unde kint we can perhaps catch aa glimpse o are based# Francet II V o original Trench text on which these lines very similar passage is found in Marie de » 5S7ff.x II n'ot 31 .Vftrs aattkUS. jUMS.,/ , ne 11 enfant./ ki ne 1 'alassent esguarder./ Cf. Frd. 68.20ff.t Lt itr P iJ&jLJL ■»n This open s etch of grasswas also cf. luragl ,Y.an 99* Pa^ alsa! n , 391 * spring of water (766f.). At once all the townsfolk gather round joyously to admire his equipage (768-72)^ and he sets about holding an open reception for all and 3 sundry (781-9*0 , including the minstrels who swarm in and L, around the tent in a solid mass (799*800). After nightfall has set in (801) his encampment is illuminated by so many candles that to the watchers in the castle they appear like a single blaze as though a bam were on fire (802-06) . J 1 . Cf. 2. b. 5. lval V, 1634f.« >r elns prunnen 1E8|X.^ poulfln y dem alto, and f o r m ,-- . und eyi| obedacn / was, Jy39 / . Itqn bpamen./ MV9WB9 e wol ze lobe / CTJBlftflffR ,.ft« wifi v« toe above, pp. 258ff. The simile of the wilds also occurs in the ;.ltterfahrt des Johann v. 148ff.: 06 wol n&ch rltgterll^on^itcn / _or jjt./ die liute ngob gewonheit./ / 11*ffn re,/ san o^> dftr s< See above* p *Lk ,ry 263 , for quotations from the (jijtlllauno'le Karechal and the writings of Jacques^e 9c See above, p. 262 , for many references to minstrels at the tournament. 316f . so strongly reminiscent or the corresponding francn lines -iWi?. liTf i- 1 wSir.fi.i ilfl v}!*? arsist. mav offer us a further glimpse of the original source, the image of the bam (scaiuwar) being probably dictated by the need for a rhyme to fluwer. 392 On the following morning hia hospitality is restricted * to those knights who intend to participate in the tourney, and is rather more select in character. All gather at the ship to hear Mass (811-815)which is followed by the customary pre-tournament breakfast of chicken washed down with wine (8l8f. ) . 2 After the meal they retire to arm themselves (822-*0 * As soon as he has leisure to attend to his own affairs (825f•) Moris also begins to put on his armour. The order in which tbe various items are enumerated both here and later (8M-2ff.) is so sensible and logical that it must correspond tolerably well to real life. First comes the ' • • 1. It was the Invariable custom to celebrate Mass before a tournament, often with muoh formal ceremony and display. Among many examples one oould cite ,-e-c 66lff., aeInfrig y.» . iM*6ff., EattafltonSTSg, iff., Partonopler l«K*-6f., Turnel v. Kanthels 252ff. 2. This repast was part of the ritual of the occasion. It was known variously as the lfblz (Srec 6 frMMlaShlir tofcU (Unsflet 3098), fin e (gajKMBBigc sin p . l& m i& W X k 732). The last two ten lndicato the French origin of the custom "snack", whioh had to be at once nourishing and light, normally consisted as here of chicken and wine is confirmed by Srec 86*t8ff., l elanm 9652ff., and the miniature of Hartmann von Starkenberg in the Manesse “T Codex, where the knight is shown getting ready his tilting-armour, while a lady-in-waiting brings him a goblet of wine and a roast chicken in a dish* 67), the ms clear. That this underdoublet of bugg-aran (827f*)»1 then knee-guards of soft felt (829-31)*2 Over these are laoed tightly the hose or chausses of nail, made specially light, so as not to weigh him down in action (833-36)1^ the curious line M ftlPX alg tlag nay mean that he actually executes a few practice leaps to test his mobility in the chausses. Then the belt (loncienier) is buckled on 1. The wambea corresponds to the pornoinz of Pluir-anca 7011. Puii;or.in is also mentioned in Parzlval XIX, 165 as being used for a shirt and breeches given to Qawan by his hosts by way of a change of linen, and in ffraiMfifllgng* 79,20 it Is used as an inexpensive alternative to fine fabrics such as taffeta, so we must assume that it was not stiff, like the modern buckram, but a soft material of wool or possibly goat's hair, very suitable for wearing under mail to prevent chafing. Some form of knee-protection was essential before the days of the tilting barrier. There are many allusions in Franendlanat (e.g. A.I61 8»f,28| 95,28j 277»10ff.| ) and tha chausses attached to it.1 Next a leather or padded coif (huot). to be worn under the hood of the hauberk, is put on and pulled veil down over the forehead, so that the metal shall not scrateh the skin (Sb-l-V).2 Lastly the mail hauberk which covered body and head alike is donned and firmly strapped in place (8b-5-8). Having thus completed the first stage in the process of putting on hie armour, Koriz takes up his stance with a few chosen attendants on the deck of the ship (8L9-51). A squire leads up one of his destriers ready caparisoned (verdaht - 352f«), and the remainder are led to a near-by knoll to oe kept in reserve till needed (85*+-6). This horse, picked for its good looks and strength (857), is hidden inside the ship (858) to be ready to hand for the hero's first entry into the tournament.3 Horiz then 1. This belt was the only means of holding the leg-armour up, and if it came to grief in the fighting the consequences were disastrous. lixamples of such mishaps are given in Schults, on.alt. II, pp. 3**f. 2. For references to the coif, or batwat. see Schultz, on.clt. XX, pp. 51,55f. 3. Pretzel believes that the order of the lines in the passage 8^9-59 is corrupt in the MS. and has re-arranged them drastically In his edition of the text. Though there is a little clumsiness of expression, due most probably to the exlgeneies of the rhyme, I feel that the lines make perfectly adequate sense as they stand. 395 strikes oamp and novas off towards the castle walls in a beautifully-contrlved procession to the accompaniment of music (859-72).* From her place in the turret window*" hard by the castle gate (373-80) the countess* accompanied by her ladies* sees the ship approaching and her excitement 3 and sense of importance pass all bounds (880-90). Iler lover steers the ship to the foot of this tower* so that 1* she can witness his exploits* and "drops anchor"* i.e. takes up his final position (891-W). This is a signal . for tbe tourney to start (895)J the two opposing teams of knights take the field (896f.) and charge each other 1* For this cavalcade* see pp. 258ff, above* and pp. 513ff. in the section on the ship. 2. See above* p. 331 for many references both in French and German literature to ladles watching the tournament from the windows of their castles or palaces. 3. See above* p. 335, note 2. *+. By placing her turret window near the castle gate* the poet also ensures that she will be an eye-witness of the slaying of the knight by her husband (905)t of. Le uhavaalax; tml jcaaavza. IriFSf,, MJkm79ff.« j&~aaflfc la Jam* a C« vita / jufo j m aplrMF ggt JBPagMWt/EftBfi. ..ue s.aa amis I'a si blon^ilt. 396 in splendid style (j&g_.g»naA£.JBElJflflfcll 898),1 As soon •8 ths fitting begins the count emerges from ths oastlo to join In with ths rest (900f,) hut the press of ths orowd round him is ouch that he has not sufficient room to manoeuvre his lanes properly, and he has the misfortune to kill one of the knights by accident before the very eyes of his wife (901-6) , Doth the ocmnt and hie lady + "T 1, The ounela. or oet charge with the lance which preceded the hand to hand encounter, la often singled out In this way for special admiration. B.g. i & . 83,32s MSUti£jLfila ana , t , have boon a ve^ harldoonc opectti'clc i . Itself, but it was practically the only feature of the mass tournament Into which same semblance a t order and oereirmny oould be instilled, 2, Tha oorreet order of the lines in this passage has been much disputed. In the M3, lines 901-4 are placed before 895, and thus refer to Darla and the ship rather than to the count. This makes, on the whole, good sense, and there ie much to be said for it. Pretael would place 901-4 before 899, making 902 refer to Moris and 9 0 3 f i n a considerably emended form, to the assembly of knights, which seems unnecessarily complicated. For the purposes a t this study, Sohroeder's text has been retained, where the disputed lines 901-4 account for, and excuse, the alaying of the knight. This interpretation le supported up to a point by Franon- where we often hear of tourneying knights being so hesxnod in by the throngs of spectators that they < freely In the crush ( e.g. 261,26ff., 173,luff.). cannot move At rieu- stadt Ulrich fences off the arena with a silken cord tied to lances, to prevent this kind of obstruction (480,25ff.). However, the passage remains very debatable. The text of Blves us no clue, thouitii tho line Qua vqus fsrolo dXud lone Dlait? (04) copposw ponds closely tol^.90l» afo. plot of the fabliau differs conoTlerably frota that of oris * fo; the slayer of the knight is not poem, and the only mishap which befalls the count Is to be unhorsed by the hero himself, von -..'uan at this point, toe lad^s husband In the French are deeply grieved at this calamity (907-12)* In accordance with chivalric etiquette he at once lays down hie arms (913) amid general regret (91*0 and retires sorrowing from the field (915-7)• The rules of courtesy demand that the rest of the company shall follow his example and bring the tourney forthwith to an end.1 That they do not do so, and in this way offend against the laws 2 of both knightly honour and Christian charity, is the fault of Moris, who is still on the ship when the accident occurs and has hitherto taken no part in the fighting* For him the abandoning of the tournament before he himself has been given any opportunity to display his prowess means the wastage of all his trouble and expense and spells disaster to his ambitions* He calls out to them from the ship and begs them not to break off the fighting (921-26)* The knights, only too glad of an excuse to continue their 1. See above, pp. 277f. for examples from both France and Germany of tournaments being stopped because of the death of one of the participants* 2. Preteel vculd emend oGnde in 918 to ouone. However, the correctness of the .3. reading is guaranteed by the words used in ihe 'rench faM-lan to describe the death of the knight: Mout avolont bien comer.old / A tomoler ..wBfcjMfihtf / g* sagaateur,/ 1 ot un chcvaUor (85ff.). It may even be that rench source of our text used oechld in the less common (and therefore to tho German poet unfamiliar) sense of "ill-fortune" (of. the Tristan of Bdroul, ed. A. Evert, Oxford 1939, 720, 1412ff7, 1550). SaA l m favourite sport, are Boat willing to be persuaded) they all agree that the death of one man is a very Inadequate reason for stopping the tourney1 before it has fairly begun (927*30). The soul of the dead nan is telefly commended to St Michael (931*33) and the contest is resumed, to ■ 2 ■ ‘ - ; - Moris1 Intense satisfaction (90*0. The fighting now begins in earnest (935*38).^ When Moris sees this (939*^1) he makes ready for a superb L delayed entrance into the melSe. First he puts on the remainder of his armour. Over the hauberk cooes an outer 1. The word verderben in connexion with the stopping of a tournament also ocoure in Fr£. 494t31f.J T9J1 M a a r u , sh& A & l :/ VQrdurbe wr- 2. Gir or a er (an image borrowed in the first instance from V 77oonryj is often used by Ulrich to denote the passionate .esc of knights for the joust, e.g. Frd. 69,lff.< ..ffite.. wfcr. .■ate; / & e- .i, d o r fr,V :\\f \ = ad f jrgg was 05 ir tvoate 3- Whereas the aunelz (893) and the atechan (933) imply the prQliainarjTaltack with lances t^j^. .jjaLftfrasfr (9*J0) shows that the two teems have now closed with one another and are using swords as well. In the same way Gahmuret at Kanvolels bides his time before joining in the contest (Parzlval II, 311ff.)i see also pp.290f .above. doublet, the mambasel ^ S f . ) , 1 over that again an ample sure oat emblazoned with hie coat of arms (944-50) and last of all he dons his crested2 tllting-helmct (951-55) Thus fully arrayed he presents a truly royal spectacle (956-5©) • Hie white charger is led out, ready caparisoned, for him to mount (959-64), he has the ship turned towards the point where the clash of arms is loudest (965-67) and comes riding alone out of the little door cut ready in the prow (963-71)* Borne of his squires come running up, each The wambascl (MS* waxraaeose) seems to have been an outer doublet worn over -Sag hauberk either with a sure oat as here, or as an alternative to it, as in Crftne 18205f.: fjft wftqHlg, e?} jtot/ It corresponds to the rnrbaloos of glamenoa 7011. which Is distinguished from the under doublet or porpqinz. Sohultz, op.clt. II, p. 57» quotes an cxample of an ouor vranbaami of fur vith a golden lion emblazoned on it. But as the wanbaoel in this passage has a gleaming surfaee (ygssc^&a Ischfrux. flpflfa943) it may hare been made of gilded leather, corresponding to the culrle of aqmp A f j m m 6957. In any oase its funotion was both protective and deoorative• 2. Possibly one should read gezlnlerot (crested) for gowleret (adorned vith inlay or enamel vow) in 933. Cf. Partonooler 14175f. 3. The helmet vas only put on when oombat was actually imminent j In the same way it was the first thing to be removed when the fighting was over. Ulrioh relates how on one occasion during the Artusfahx-t he oould tell that something had gone wrong because he sav the knights on ths opposing side remove their helmets, and he at once sent a messenger across to find out what had happened (Frd. 500,22ff.). carrying on* or two lances (975-7?) and than (the poet 2 says) tha tournament really does begin! (978)* He catches up his shield (979)» selects a lance (930), drives spurs into his horse (981), and charges into the melee vith the force of an eagle attacking a fleck of small birds (982-h).~ Ten opponents are unhorsed in rapid 1* One of the tasks of the squire was to keep hie master supplied with lances. Cf. Frd. 7 2 , 2 f t .1 Ich selbo •t dor knehts mini/ a,9 X , M r / ein s..r. and dree 2306f7T $£ 2. A similar situation occurs in the ,Y9fi where the fighting, though it has been going on already for some time* is r.iven a new impetus by the arrival of fresh forces from outside: d£ v.-art ein tumel hin gc-nomcn./ tea vor eg herter nie /-eachnch (982f.J. 3. The phrase freude fine sora (tfS. fye^te line 902 may well be corrupt. It has been variously emended to jr cM s .lne._za.rn and yrejafe, iftg..£.<2131. and the use of freude in oonnexion with tournament combat is admittedly rather difficult to explain# However* parallels can be found in Frd#* as for instance in 168f9f. 9 where the podestA or Treviso is giving permission for Ulrich to hold a joust in the city$ jr.. gPTOPhf '±Q& were iu. n M < / ggei^ ftmte.wp ^ in 492,19f.. where, after a particu arly violent tournament description, we readt Mit disen Ti* OT" / dsr tao. the whole line tcPretsel's emendation of o ______ vreinaanoxi corn seems to have little to commend It. The word aora Is used quite often in *be poem (e.g. 1227, 1422, 1455, 1535) and always with ths idea of genuine displeasure or indignation, whereas the whole point of this line is that Moris' onslaught, in spite of its fierceness, is Sne zorn. only nock fury. fhe simile of the eagle and the small birds is one of the stook comparisons of medieval battle descriptions. The oldest example in German Is in Qraf Rudolf (ed. Kraus >SU). i . HeiSelSergigil, Ho. 4) fragme 1st edn. d b 1911 nt Fb, lines 10??., but it is also found in Imnzelat 3305f.» H££aB8£ta£ 15952ff., S4. 92,Ilf., and 93,?0f., etc. succession (985—95), and no one can stand before him (996), so that there is a whole drove (otuot) of riderless horses roaming about the field (997-1000) . 2 When one of his horses becomes overheated (lQOlf.) he takes a fresh mount and gives the old one away to anyone who happens to be standing by (1003-06). ^ This generous gesture adds lustre to the renown he has already gained by his prowess (1007-10). eventually, in obedienoe to the commands laid upon him by the lady (10 11) when their mutual compact was sealed (dd in sin frouwe kuste 1014), he breaks all his painted lances sc rohto .luste (1012f.) and even has to fall back 1 . 2 3 A similar rapid enumeration of ten separate combats in as many lines occurs in Turnei von Kanthelg 1068-77. See above, p. 264 . This detail occurs frequently in tournament descriptions. S.g. Histoire de Gull 2758ff.: (hors velst l ' w r H & t ohemi e oar le M**1* 4® dea^ destriers./ von stach./ iltrSge 9, / als ein atuot waer J.M.W. 484f.i diu geslagga. Of• MXSSL 2594r.> g ^ l l t u n d _ O E S . E - k t o ? / ein £s.taM^633ff7T^ia^a^3aiajlsajrQaas_£SSM./ m tL a sX to erbelzt v 2MO. C_UQd£ [ oe^ QA.flihew rosj 1 gap das enwec./ Of das 408 on the plain one a as mil (1015)* ils lady had good reason to be grateful to him (1016) for never did a knight receive such acclaim as he did on that occasion from both sides (1017-80)#® Had he been an unbaptized infidel# no 2* The order of lines 1011-80 has been altered by Pretzel in his edition of the text# though in his most recent cont­ ribution to the subject (see the Bibliography) he baa reverted to the tlB# reading. By emending mn'inan (ub , ) in 1015 to aohrankoa}. and by placing 1016-14 IMWMi8£ after 1080# he gave an entirely new aanae to namely that after the fighting is over erla goes up to the barrier (jg&SSB&tt) and roeelves a kiss from ths cotanteas by way of prizo. There are several objections to this proposed reading# Firstly# there Is no mention of lists or barriers having been built for this tourna­ ment# which# as one would expect from the date# appears to hove taken place on open ground? the phrase la rinrc (99C) does not necessarily imply a fenced-off arena# but simply an area cleared of spectators for ths contest, as In Frd. 361,23. Secondly, them le no suggestion that the countess la summoned down from her turret window to bestow a kiss on the victor - the line afl in atn. froum kast£ is rather to be linked with ftMHft JEeglwa.. teste (10 11; as ;.'Sfsrrlng back to the fonaJ. o: :b.*ace of the lovers In 614-17# Lastly, the expression is meaningless when placed after 1090j whereas original position It follows on ths verb know from other sources that ae muter .1 technical tern of the joust (e#g# oner) Mr.ftf ff / M i-whter lust unde bar), ftw*.. op.olt.. pp.SSf. gives numerous examplea of ths expression as rahtar.1uat used In a similar context. I therefore see no reason for altering the order of the lines In the IS. though the parenthesis In 1014 is admittedly rather clumsy. aa the tournament. 5891f.I $ ■bUlM j h m b i I a nrle hfln (to be acclaimed by both teams ero of the day; la another technical tern of Of. Ulstpl one who map hia that day would have refused to give hia hia due meed of honour (1081-ad).1 . After this he whirls round the field (er fuor ung^ >y»« ein bal 1026),8 ordering it to ho proclaimed that all who desire largesse are to present themselves at the ship to receive It (1025-28).3 There, aa long aa daylight lasts, he distributee everything that he has brought with him, giving to each man whatever takes hia fancy (1029-31), 2. Pretael would omit 1021-24 as a later interpolation. But see 'Ians .Neumann "Per wllde und der edle Heide" Berlin-Leipsig 1925) where the pquootio?i of Vila and similar r In detail. aasages is disoussed The imago of the ball flying from hand to hand is Quite eonrcaa in MHO, literature} e • uut in this pa tioular context the effect to the point of burlesque. See below, p. 466. bck & • - r In th« evening, be retires to his tent after all the exertions of the day (1032-35)* As a culminating gesture of mllte the ship (now presumably standing abandoned) is handed over to the garzuna to be dismantled and shared out among them (lO^O-^J)• Xen successive recipients of this bounty are enumerated, corresponding to the ten adversaries who feel the effects of the hero's valour in the tourney Itself (10^6-57), and the poet at length takes his leave of the ship vith a final tribute of admiration (1053-60). When the assembly has broken up (1061) one of the knights who has been taken prisoner in the course of the tourney cooes up and begs for a gift (106a) . 1 Horlz, having now nothing else to give, takes off his hauberk and offers it to the man, who accepts it gratefully (106^-66). Having resumed his outer doublet for warmth (1067-69), he at once asks whether there is anyone who would like to have the chausses too, but there are no takers (1070-73). It is while he is in the very act of removing his ehausses (107hf.) and is sitting alone in his tent - his retinue having temporarily vanished from the scene to avoid being caught up in this orgy of munificence (1076-31) - that the messenger 1. In his fartMjrcUWt to the I89V edition of Ltetlfc YPfl oratln. p. X.CVII, Schroedsr derives the phrase~IiTma: asVajfcSP ^ ^om a hypothetical un ome cha in the French source. Xhis may be the case, but the phrase is not unique in KHG. literature, cf. Brec 55/Os fig.-'-. *31. -nr.en arrives from the countess to summon him to the rendezvous (1082-88J. 1 All this is not only coherent, but extremely lively and convincing. The vriter is manifestly on ground familiar enough for him to have a clear mental picture of vhat he is describing, and, as we have seen, the accuracy of his narrative ean be confirmed at almost every point. Moreover he manages to convey in the most graphic manner the general atmosphere of the tourney, its bustle and animation, its blend of confusion and.ceremony, its stirring sights and sounds, its thrills and sensations, interspersed and offset by vivid glimpses of individual emotion on the part of the chief actors in the story - the excitement of the countess in her turret window, the distress and mortification of the count, the hero's momentary check of disappointment when the fighting is in danger of being brought to a premature close, and his elation in the full flush of victory. This, we feel, is not romantic fiction, this is how chivalric society really felt and thought and acted on suoh an occasion. 1. In Le chevalier aui recovra l'amor d« y » .. the lady sond3 two messengers T u o a r z ) to summon the knight to the tryst. VWo6 2 . iilte und manhelt 1st lr zse dienstc nlht leiti olnen lip habe er sch&ne n&eh der talnnen lOnet er si ztthteoliohen bait ... beide sele unde lip mon man w&gen duroh diu vip, ever ed ldnee von in gert: , er ist sin andere ungewert. "... die schneidende SchSrfe des roalistisohen un- travuneriachen illusionslosen Woltblicka, vie er in der aussenselterischen 'Moriz von C ratal'-Novell e ... in unsre hochstaufiscbe Paradieses-Traumwolt hereinveht ..." * Nevertheless the tournament episode has not been a picture of the fashionable sport of the day. Though it does not contain, but rather leads up to, the crisis of the action, it has been given a virtually oentral position detail whioh many critics have felt to be quite out of 1. Hartmann von A.ue, Bttchlein 627ff. 2. K. Halbach, "tspik des Mittelalters" in W. Stammler's -. o m XI, Berlin 195^ , col. 6*f6. 3* 620 lines before, 720 lines after. introduced for its own sake, merely in order to provide proportion to the rest of the work. Knightly audiences had, it is true, an insatiable appetite for anything connected with the tourney and especially in France (for one must never lose sight of the French origins of the text) tournament descriptions were an indispensable part of the literary stock-in-trade of the thirteenth century. But in KgnAa .tor .firattfl these scenes are not included simply to gratify public taste; still less are they to be regarded as padding or as the result of a faulty sense of artistic balance. If they are presented in so circumstantial a manner it is beoause they have a definite function to fulfil within the plan of the whole, and in particular because they have a direct bearing on the moral and social problems which were the poet's chief concern. Indeed, so perfectly does Moris von Jraun illustrate the relationship of the tourney to the dual principle of love and honour that it might almost serve - and was perhaps intended to serve - as a type instance, an "exemplum", offered as a pattern and warning to others. Slnoe the account of the tournament was not an end in Itself, but a means to an end, the poet has selected for inclusion only what was germane to his purpose, so that many things are omitted or passed over lightly while others are treated with the minutest detail* 1+07 We are never told, for instance, bow many knights (If any) Koriz brings with him In his train, or how many others have assembled at the appointed time and place in response to his widely-proclaimed invitation, though the total company does not appear to be at all large* The participants are divided according to the usual practice into two equal groups fttiLlOftfl 897) but we never hear how the opposing teams were picked or who were the leaders - for since Koriz prefers to stand aside and choose the most dramatic moment for entering the fray, we must infer that he was not one of them. We never learn the name of a single person taking part in the tourney except for Moris himself - even the count and the knight who is killed remain anonymous* Apart from the fatal accident and the decision to continue the contest, both of whioh are indispensable to the action, the description of the fighting that precedes Koriz* entry into the conflict is reduced to a few conventional phrases (935-ifl) in which no single deed of prowess is recorded. Against this shadowy background the figure of the hero stands out in brilliant isolation. Kvexythlng that concerns him is particularized down to the last iota - his ship, his tent, his armour, his horses, his hospitality, his energy, his valour, his munificence, his renown. All the rest is . simply a setting for the personal exploits and glory of the one can In whom the principle of love and honour Is for the moment embodied. By this means the poet ensures that nothing shall distract the attention of his audlenoe from the main Issue at stake, such peerless merit making the disloyalty of the countess appear still blaeker by contrast and going far to justify the conduct of the Insulted hero himself* Love and honour, those twin driving forces In chivalrle life, are from the beginning linked with the Idea of the tourney* When the hero is Introduced for the first time and we are told that he serves the countess of Beaumont in hopes of reward, It is Immediately taken for granted that this service Involves frequenting tournamentsi- 273 Der was dienstes berelt vil manegen tac mit staetekeitt tumieren unde geben was im alles sin leben. At the same time, these exploits also enhance his personal reputation!- 280 Dd was dewederthalb nie man, des lip ez has t&ete und dee dicker pris haete. So that he can say In truths- 436 Dienest hfit mln lop braht von lande ze lande. The whole of the main tournament episode Is In a sense a development of the theme thus announced at the outset* On one hand the tournament Is presented as a model example of the service of love In action, as the natural choice for that feat demanding both physical risk and material sacrifice - g.qha I affrgltt M&ftiAftC. Jjft MT« et de chateua - which the lady was entitled to exact as the recognised price of the Hlnnelohn.1 In return for this final proof of devotion she pledges herself by word and gesture to confer the final reward: firstly by the formula of troth-plight du blst aln und Ich din (592) which is given special emphasis by the explicit declaration snraeh diu 2(593)i secondly by the ring which she takes from her own 1. See above, p. 339 2. Much has been written about this phrase, which seems on the whole to be characteristic for Germany rather than France, though similar expressions do occur In French, such as the fragrant of real-life love-dialogue reported In the 93, 3°53ff• * ( 9 * w7 v f A u j u i t y f u j rw i v e £ 7 1 iw w ; quote very numerous examples, ranging from medieval lyric and romance through folk-song, the works of Hans Sachs, etc. up to the nineteenth century. Its use In mystical writings to denote the union of the soul with God is probably derived from the 3gftg,.Qf, Stiflgg 11* 16, but as a secular formula of betrothal It may have Its origins in legal terminology. Its formal character is shown In our text by the way In which the countess, who has previously addressed the knight In the second person plural, now changes to the more intimate clu. Ml finger and gives to the knight as a token of her favour and as a guarantee of her willingness to fulfil her side of the bargain - fgfiWffl .ttlVe B»ia«n / daa sie in zalehenta aiifij/ nach geselliellches wlbea alto (610-12)^ the solf- 1. Many examples could be quoted of this form of "troth- plight" as part of the ritual of courtly love. An anecdote from a troubadour biography is cited by Hatto, OP.clt.. pp.302f. The whole action of the lai del'ombre turns on the refusing or accepting of a ring™ Marie de France, Eauitan 185f. makes Bqultan and the wife of the seneschal exclmnge rings and vows of love. Even in Girart da Rouanillon (ed. V.W. Haokett, SAIF, 3 VOls., arie 1953-555), lalsse XL, Elissent the queen, formerly Girart's rightful betrothed and still bound to him by ties of dose affeotion, gives him a ring as a sign of her love. In F^ d. 242,17ff. and 254,Iff., Ulrich's lady sends him a ring from her white hand as lr llebc w&rzolchen. and whan she eventually demands it back again (301,21ff.) Ulrich's grief borders on frenzy. P&rzival, seeing a ring on SigQne's finger, asks jestingly by what right an anchoress like herself wears such a token of aaflrachaft (Jforz♦ IX, 191ff.). Winsbeke (stanza 9. 1*4) also takes the custom for granted, merely counselling prudence: du solt alnnedlohan traman / verbal* din BS ring—motif occurs frequent Ly U oo, as in the tympanum from Hottwell fror. the mnesse Codex. The practice gradually moves down the social aoale, from walther von der Vogelwelde's J l g w U n and her denln yingerlln. to the country looo who aocepts a gold ring from Ueidharti dlsqn svuseriauc.ji^ (quoted Haumann. op.clt.. p. 152). ami so at lenrth into foik* afl “ Y * 1"' Deutachs Bellmen (Leipzig 1956), 67,39: S&.nehmt ftp. lyffij. von jafc.cr. Bel nir zu 9<&3ftf9n Agn-y.weg-.teas* Bestowed on the knight before a battle or tourney, this ring also aoted as a kind of talisman; of. Horn C (ed. M.K. Pope, Oxford 1955 ) 2643ff.J toftqaflflup 9,9jy,uy ■g.A'aaja. / % ,V.qpnl% (note the reverting ths more distant form of address!) of itvC* 1686* Cf. t. Barlier to e Frd* 301,131 Cai) laaia in his poem Ulrich even phrase againat himself* (103,8). . For this also many parallels oould be quoted* when Oanelon enters into an agrearaant with the psynim to betray Roland and his men, both parties concerned embrace each other formally (Roland 686, 633)* In the fabliau a i JEUt4amaaL..oaBaajw ±. sasLsaLasasa& (m* cxu, t8?7) the devil and the peasant similarly confirm the bond drawn up between them: 3oo .11. b.uc a u col 11 aorta:/.an • Like the ring, this ceremonial BS IS Xuo. od was regarded as a species of charm ensuring protection la time of danger; thus Ulrich in his third BQchl.ui i.633.7ff* begs for a klsa by way of viatioum before setting out on a Crusade* Cf. also titurel.stanza 880* of the throe, though everywhere implied, manifests Itself chiefly before the tourney with the hospitality extended to all comers In the tent which, though etiquette naturally forbids the countess to visit It In person, has been set up where It can be seen from the oastle (76^., 80*»ff.)} and with the gracious and well-ordered arrangements made for the reception of the guests on the following morning, when public Mass is followed by a light but choice breakfast (811-2 1J. 1 Valour is amply demonstrated during the actual fighting, Morlz having first ensured that the countess shall be an eye-witness of his exploits by taking up his position In ths ship at the very foot of the tower from the windows of whioh she Is watching the proceedings (89Iff.). Here he proves himself suitably invincible, opponents going down before him one after the other like sklttle-plns - ez vlel swaz vor lme was (983-96). In short, he does everything that his lady could possibly demand of him, and when at length he is acclaimed on both sides as the hero of the day, the poet points out that she has good cause to be grateful to him for acquitting himself thus brilliantly (1016-20).2 1. See above, p. 296, and p. 392 . 2. See above,ip.342ff.and p. 402 . But the virtue most strongly emphasized is liberality, and in this episode we meet with nearly every one of the types of milts which have been enumerated in the earlier part of this chapter. Of all the knightly qualities it was the one most outwardly sensational) and it seems to have held a peculiar fascination for the poet, whose preoccupation with such ideas as achade. vortuon almost verges at times on an obsession. Be even uses figuratively of the service of love the phrase ere umbe euot (klh) normally applied to the bargain of mutual advantage struck between the knight and the minstrel who, in return for material gifts, was expected to publicize the generosity of the giver. Be takes a kind of delight in making his hero equip himself for the tourney with incredible lavishness and then fling it all away down to the last item of personal attire. Nevertheless, in spite of his realist leanings, he is unwilling to east a shadow over the glamour of this magnificence by suggesting that Koriz is in any way impoverished by it, preferring to credit him with the inexhaustible wealth of the conventional hero of romance. Those displays of mllte are anything but meaningless ostentation; they are deliberately calculated, and we are 1. See above, pp. 2 6 4 f f . , for the contrast between romance and real life on this point. even told that Koriz spent several sleepless nights planning how to design the ship in such a way that it could he "expanded" when it had served its purpose (12*+9-5l)• The ship is in fact by far the most costly part of his equipment and the poet dwells with some complacency on the 1 1 1 .ftjftfi fflMft <^ 33) and gJBffaia IttMrtfl (653) required for its construction. In addition to this expensiveness it possessed the further advantage of complete futility - aa, ffijg (683) - a perfect example of conspicuous consumption and conspicuous waste combined.1 It was moreover doubly futile, not merely because a ship on dry land is by definition "useless", but because it was destined only to be broken up and given away in the end. However, the cost of the ship is only part of the outlay involved. The more usual items of tourneying equipment had to be considered too. There was an Immense store of lanoes to be assembled, all of which were destined for destruction; the greater part of these were brightly painted and fitted with pennants of rich fabric and design (705*22).2 Nine destriers were selected for the personal use of the knight 1. See above, pp. 3 i 5 f f for other examples, drawn from both literature and life, of conspicuous consumption passing Into conspicuous waste. 2. See above, pp. 318, and 389f. . 1*16 and provided with caparisons of taffeta (zendkte 959-6**). Uis own accoutrements also had to be of the best - and the best represented a considerable sum of noney.1 There was a complete set of amour, all shining new? the chausses are (833)* the hauberk wifi ala 3 M (8**6)» while the wambaaal and gold-inlaid helmet are so bright that they can o be seen from a long way off (9**3, 952), and all Is of the finest workmanship, vaste. niht svaere (835), tote, fllgfc (838). His sureoat is of samite cut with ample fullness and bearing his coat of arms embroidered or appliqued on the borders (9****-50). Finally there are his Instruments k of vicarious consumption, his "gaaallaachaft" (972). This retinue seems to have been composed of squires (975), minstrels (862-69) and such-like - the kind of personal entourage one sees In the miniature of Cuke Heinrich von Breslau^ - rather than fellow-knlghts. Though comparatively 1. See above, p. 257 . 2. The phrase flaa Vflfre Stttoftfr seams to have been a stock formula In descriptions of knightly equipment. Cf. alttertreue (£4. Ho. VI) 53**. 3* See above, p. 393 . **. See above, pp.257ff.. 5. See above, p. 336 and the Appendix. *fl7 few in number (9 7 2 - b )they serve to enhance the prestige of the hero by wearing his livery (701->O» by joining in the masquerade, singing sailor's songs and pretending to row and steer the ship as it lumbered across country (750-*O, 4-. ' . ' ' \3 ;w*-T' - and by turning the manoeuvres of the ship just before the tournament into a triumphal procession across the field to the foot of the castle-vail (859-72).2 sane of them later seem to have taken a modest part in the fighting, but in the main they are no core than the passive instruments of their master's desire to create the maximum sensation. Arrived at the scene of the tournament, Morlz at onoe plunges into fresh expenditure. Every possible device is called into play in order to dazzle the eyes of the assembled knights and ladies* His pavilion is the most sumptuous that oould be Imagined (773-80),3 and within it he embarks on a programme of extravagant entertainment. The guests, high and low alike, are accommodated on cushions of taffeta 1* See above, pp. 257f. 2. See above, pp.sssff. 3* Descriptions of luxurious tents are a commonplace in ana it is impossible to tell whether thispassage figured in the original source or whether it was Introduced by the German poet. brocaded with gold (781-5) and a cask of wine stands ready to hand with a drinking-vessel floating in it, so that any who wished might quench their thirst freely (790-*O. After night has fallen the blase of innumerable candles continues to bear witness to his prodigality. In the morning his fellow-Joustera are again Invited to sample his hospitalityy and his delight knows no bounds when they all arrive to regale 2 themselves at his expense. During the tournament Itself all the familiar gestures of ml.lte are observed. His whole store of lances - first the costlier painted shafts and then the plain ones - is shattered. He contrives to get rid of all his nine war- steeds, giving eaah in turn to the first comer when he changes mounts. He disdains to take possession of any of the spoils of victory, foregoing his right of capture over the numerous horses whose riders he has unseated, so that k . he leaves the field stripped of everything but glory. Afterwards he returns to his tent to complete his exhibition of largesse, and till nightfall he is kept busy 1. See above, pp. 315 and 391 » 2. See above, pp. 263, 296, and 392 . 3. See above, pp. 318 and 40lf.. k . See above, pp. 265 and 328 . distributing ths remainder of his equipment (1025-39). To the iiarzflne he hands over the ship to be dismantled and shared out, in accordance vith the regular practice of leaving the debris of the joust to persons of non-knlghtly status as their proper perquisite (10^0-60). A few seize the mast and oars, but most secure pieces of the fine cloth vith which the ship had been hung in order to make clothes for themselves*3 To his fellov-knights Moriz offers things more appropriate to their rank, and is finally reduced to L. giving away the very armour off his back (1061-72). The fact that the hauberk is bestowed on a captured knight (1062-65), who would normally expect to pay ransom, not receive a valuable present, adds the final touch of lustre to the hero's generosity. In short, from first to last, Moriz shows himself an enthusiastic exponent of the poet's own dictum! Iflt Killing (332). On the other hand* ve find the poet expressing almost in the same breath an identieal view in respeot of honours »H9 1. see above, pp. 265, 328, and 2. See above, p. 319 and 404 . 3. See above, PP. 308ff. . W. See above, pp. 310 and 404 . 5. See above, pp. 328 and 404 . word H I is used so often In the poem and with suoh varying shades of meaning that it is difficult to analyse its precise implications in any given context* Nevertheless! in these lines at least it is clear that honour and love are felt to he indissolubly linked) as two parallel and complementary aspects of the same thing. Slsewhere they are put in the relation of cause and effect: honour is felt to be a by­ product of love, the fruit of worthily-dedicated service, and as such in essence only another and loftier form of the Mlnnalohn. earning for the lover the favour of the ohosen lady herself, the esteem of all noble women (ere von isniotan wiben M-01), and the approval of society in general Aanftfe. jflS Jtttt ( m i **36f., ^39). The poet makes it clear that society is entitled to take an active interest in the service of love, seeing that lovers are not isolated and self-stifflclent units, but members of a larger community, whose corporate life is affected for good or ill by their actions as individuals, and to which they are therefore in the last resort answerable. The paet between Moriz and the countess, though ostensibly private and clandestine - dels nlamen sach (607) - is put into effect in the most public manner Imaginable. Theoretically it is still varholn (to use Winsbeke's expression)} but absolute concealment could only defeat its own ends. Although the two people concerned behave with due discretion and the world respects their anonymity) the very nature of the whole tournament venture is calculated to betray the truth of the matter) even if it had not already long been common knowledge. Indeed) it is hard to see in what sense, other than that of pure self-ennoblement) love oould become a source of honour, were no hint of Its existence allowed to penetrate to the outside world. The service of love thus required a most delicate balance between secrecy and openness, a state of affairs which from the lovers' point of view doubtless added to the piquancy of their situation, but which could not possibly be maintained without the connivance of society as a whole. So Moris does not simply play out his rdle as a private person) he is a type of the knightly lover in action, whose exemplary conduct enhances both his own honour and that of the chlvalrlo order he represents. All this is part of the orthodox creed of courtly love. However, there are signs that the poet also admits the less idealistic view that honour, in both the inward and the outward sense, can exist quite independently of love,even in defiance of love, since the hero's ion und a™ continue to flourish unimpaired after he has renounced the 422 service of the countess (I642f.). During the very tournament itself, hie actions largely belle the poet's assertion that urcfoe l3n was al ain dlnaan (277),1 for It Is evident that the exhibition of zuht. manhait and imita by which he hopes to earn his lady's favour Is prompted just as strongly by the desire to make a spectacular impression on the world at large. In other words, the pursuit of honour in the service of love inevitably merges into the pursuit of honour for its own sake, The ship is built teOusaote (S3i). aa& .9J5 Am mvtaa SKA .yvlbl (668). the lanoes are to be broken duroh ruon (721), the croee-country voyage of the ship is designed to attract ae ouch attention as possible i-MOTtt / 695f.), so that the crowds follow It on its way as thou#i it were a wedding procession (747-49), and the whole population of the town cones flocking out to greet it on its arrival and gape as though at a raree-show (758-61, 769-72), The procession to the castle wall is staged nit 8ren (859), before the tournament minstrels gather round in hordes (795-99), during ths fighting his generosity (1005-10) and his valour (1017-80) are universally 1, dee above, p, 169, note 1< _ applauded, and afterwards his largesse is not only extolled on the spot (alt gV,3. ggtaflflR / wart ex firtajULat Bflflar fil9 1056f.), bat published abroad (flag. Ifilft, gift lea Ytt brglt 1039). His every action and gesture Is attended by an uninhibited publicity) and not even the hero of r'rauondlenst himself could be so anxious for glory or so solicitous for his personal reputation. In the case of Moris, as of Ulrich, the claims of both love and honour are satisfied. Bach does all that his lady could ask of him and more, each pays In full the debt he owes to himself and to his peers. Yet doubly worthy as they are, neither Is permitted to enjoy the rightful reward of his labour. Though they receive their due harvest of praise from society, they both suffer a lasterbaeran roup1 at the hands of their respective ladles, by whom the claims of love and honour alike are slighted. This double unworthlness Is punished by double disgrace. Ulrleh, not content with renouncing his lady's service, exposes her conduct to the world in Scheltlledar/ while at the end of our poos the countess is left alone to achadan and aohanda - private loss and public infamy.1 Originally her intentions seen to have been no less worthy than his* -hough not exactly enthusiastic - this show of hesitation was no doubt prescribed by etiquette - she expresses her willingness to take upon herself her share of atiaflm MBfl aHftflJLt» satching her lover's dangers in the tourney by her own risks in embarking on a secret intrigue (tosk..4JLgaaat. .aa g»g* 590» and 800 also 135b-6l), and his material outlay on her behalf by t.ie intimate bower with its painted walls, gleaming ceiling and jewelled windows which forms a kind of pendant piece to the tent (1101-09), and above all by the magnificent bed which is a symbolical counterpart to the ship (1110-55)*2 where she breaks down is therefore not in the matter of milta but in respect of auht and wiaheltt towards her waiting woman she shows herself haughty and unkind, towards 2.9 2. achaden and Bchandn are among the poet's favourite words, and as they lend themselves very easily to scribal• confusion, it is not always possible to assign (me or the other with certainty to the various passages where either would be equally appropriate* schroeder has nehnnda in 1665 and achadan in 1666, whereas Pretzel reverses this order; both agree in keeping ceschnnt in 166b and sc.mden in 1718, 176b* We find here the some leisurely elaboration of detail, the same love of rich materials* the same revelling in the idea of sheer costliness (i earlier descriptive passages dealing with the tent and the ship. her lover she is guilty of unwomanly harshness* Retribution follows swiftly* She forfeits the devotion of the best of knights, and the very reward she had refused to grant freely is wrested from her at length under compulsion, not In the splendid setting originally designed for it, but in the most degrading and inappropriate place possible, namely the marriage bed* Like Moris too, she is under observation from the world, for she also is not merely an individual in her own right, but a type and representative of womankind* By carrying out her obligations she would haws done honour to the whole sex (bittel ale Yll adre / durgfa ftller frouwen foy,/ flftgjaj, qfott 1457-5, and againi (ich) w & ,ju fr&fan, bt.dm,frttg*/ der iu /mu sgle vmde_ll£,/ J f e s ! X L 2Uti 9MB PMi ftftbTO verlorn 1482-85)# By falling short of the standard required she has dealt a blow at the whole structure of chivalric ethicsi igk.jffi.gas, mtLJB& toi fos A^a./ der inner m* A?, AAnga K9P.e / 1ft frgfrmW 1st iuwer 22EB wo^ .kgjffint./ awexme_ 4ia verlt Bit ftleem schaden / von luwem aohulden iat r.eladon./ dlts ist sAaaeyal • • • / ftA..agkt....yig to,^a&..stenaa. jsiA(1311- 20j . 1 1. See above, p. 349 , especially ths quotation from Parzivnl in note 1 . Possibly it is the very suggestion of universal validity inherent in the relationship of the lovers which, to the modern reader , makes it all appear curiously ohilly and Impersonal. They have the air of actors performing routine gestures and when reality breaks through the facade It is a reality very much at odds with the high-sounding doctrines of courtly love. Our poem reveals perhaps more clearly than any other literary production of the time how precariously the ideals of chivalry were poised between outward convention and inward truth, and how slight a shook was required to bring the delloate edifice toppling down. The impeccable bearing of the lovers In the opening scenes throws into even more glaring contrast their behaviour when under the sway of their natural feelings - the angry woman shrewishly berating her servant, the disappointed cavalier bursting his way into the bedroom and insulting in the most brutal and contemptuous fashion the woman for whose sake he has just risked life and property. There is something almost horrible about the transformation, as though a mask had been removed. Once again, in fact, we find ourselves confronted by the ambiguous streak that runs through the ohivalrio code of love and honour. It is present even in the character of the hero who is blameless of the initial offence and who, 42? of the two chief personages, clearly has the greater share of the poet's sympathies. Hie love" is a blend of calculation, convention and physical desire. He chooses his lady with his head rather than his heart) when she eeaseo to be acceptable he quits her with no apparent regret, unless his plunging into a renewed frenzy of tourneying is to be interpreted as a sign of defiant grief. The tourna­ ment is not a spontaneous gesture of devotion, but a conforming to the pattern of service approved by society, which possesses the additional advantage of enabling him to pursue his own advancement under cover of a Show of selfless ardour. Though he arranges that the oountesa shall be a spectator of hie prowese during the tourney he does not appear to be Inspired by her preeenoe) there is no indica­ tion that the eight of her lends him added skill, energy or. valour. He asks from her nothing but the lSn. nor le there any doubt as to what he envisages by it. This preoccupation with the satisfying of physical desire is so absorbing that when they come together all his fury and revulsion are powerless to prevent him from yielding to her advances (1609-19)• Nowhere does his love rise to the level of affection, let alone to heights of spirituality, and whsn it canes into collision with his pride it breaks down at **28 once and completely. In the same way his view of honour Is purely external. The injury which he suffers at the hands of the countess wounds his self-esteem rather than his Integrity or his good namef it is his own conduct in seeking to right his wrongs which, for the first time, involves him in active dishonour. As a result, the Ion he eventually obtains proves to be only a travesty of itself and leaves behind it not ennoblement but bitterness and disillusion. His moral failure, however, is pardoned by the poet because it is the consequence of a still more grievous failure on the part of the countess. She, like Moris, gives no sign of any personal feelings for her partner in the MinngYflrhflltftla; her initial reluctance to enter on the relationship and the eagerness vith which she withdraws from it as soon as a pretext to do so offers itself betray fundamental indifference rather than any feminine scruples of modesty or morals. Where the knight craves for fame, she craves for power - power to command the services of her lover, power to bestow or withhold the reward as she chooses. At the tournament her vanity is gratified to the full, and her lover's exploits only arouse in her the desire ‘-JT* to test his devotion still further. She creeps suddenly ^29 on him at the rendez-vous (l*+l8-22), as though secretly hoping to surprise him in some fault that would Justify her in refusing the promised recompense. It Is hinted that she might have come earlier had she wished (1257), that she delayed from wilful caprice, which the pleadings of the waiting-woman only harden Into stubbornness. Towards the girl she shows herself as unjust and unkind as towards the knight, and though she constantly speaks of "honour" her conduct Is the negation of all the chivalric Ideals of womanly virtue. In a word, when their feelings are put to the proof, both Morlz and the countess sacrifice love to "honour" and In the last resort honour to vanity. They are in many ways an unattractive pair, but their changing moods and their mutual reactions are presented with astonishing psychological insight. 3. "St contlglt quadam vice... ut in congressu comparis miles quidam ... in eorde lancea feriretur. Cum gravi igitur luctu ad domum proprlam corpus exanime sic delatum in locello componltur. Post horam autem egresso famulo ... obvius el in equo nigro factus est miles occlsus, qui dixit ei: ... Descends nunc et occisori me© speclalitdr dicas et allls omnibus qulbus vis, ut venlant ad talem locum 1. The passage is corrupt in.the MS. but this seems to be the general sense of the lines. et videant divinum Judicium de me factum ... " 1 Korla von Craun ie thus concerned both with the general problem of ehivalric love and honour and with the clash of Individual personalities. The tournament is directly relevant to each of these two aspects - it is a type instance of the service of love offered and abused, and it sets the stage for the conflict between the two principal characters. On the other hand it is more than a flg PPSMfS with a moral significance. It is also necessary to the plot, a vital link in the chain of events, the logical sequel to what has gone before, the equally logical preparation for what is to come after. The transition from this episode to the following one is indeed a masterpiece of ingenious contrivance. That Moris' retainers should have absented themselves while their master is indulging his passion for mllte is a plausible touoh of realism, but it also enables the hero to receive the lady's message, as he must, in private!. The speed with whioh the messenger is despatched by the countess shows an apparent eagerness to fulfil her side of the bargain which provides a highly effective contrast to 1. ; - her later conduct. The apeed with which, for his part, the hero obeys the summons without waiting for rest and refreshment both emphasizes the loyalty of his devotion and at the same time accounts for the sleep of exhaustion which overcomes him at the crucial moment* Furthermore the fact that he is given no time to disarm completely or to wash away the grime of battle explains how the mail hose vhioh he still wears on one leg clangs on the floor of the bedchamber and wakens the count (15**9ff.), and how his apparition, covered in gore (1531-3^), and wearing the tattered and blood-stained wambes (1557-59) - the outer doublet which we are told (1067-69) he resumed for warmth after giving away his hauberk • can be mistaken for the 1 ghost of the slain knight. This "ghost" scene and the events leading up to it reveal the poet's narrative technique at its most successful. In the whole range of Middle High German literature there can be few incidents whore the motivation is more convincing, the recital more compact and racy, and the flavour of reality more authentic. The starting-point of the whole affair is the accidental killing of one of the participants in t he tourney. This »f3l 1. See above, pp. 269f.for similar descriptions of the battered appearance of knights after a tourney. was a contingency which, as we have seen, was by no means uncommon in real life,^ and every knight vho took part in a tournament must have been, in theory at least, prepared to face it. Yet though the event in itself was nothing unusual, the Issues which it raised vere unexpectedly profound, and the various reactions which it appears to have provoked, alike in fact and fiction, show how vide was the range of moral outlook which could exist within the general framework of chlvalrlo society. On the one hand we have what nay be termed the orthodox or ideal standpoint. Slnoe tourneying was, as we have shown, denounced by the ecclesiastical authorities as a mortal sin, those who met their.death while engaged in it O died excommunicate, forfeited their right to Christian burial,^ and vere regarded by those vho took the pronounce­ ments of the Church seriously as doomed to an eternity of L torment, either in the fires of Hell or in that wandering company of lost souls known to popular superstition as the 1# See above, pp. 27iff. 2. See above, pp* 207ff.. 3« See above, pp. 2iiff. See above, pp. 2l3ff • A* **■33 wild Hunt.1 Though this view was chiefly fostered by clerical writers, as the official champions of other** worldliness, there Is plenty of evidence from secular channels to suggest that It had penetrated Into the consciousness of the knights themselves* The attitude of the Church is taken for granted in the Novella Unsar Frauen Ritteri when a knight is trampled to death in a tournament, swle er hete loa und oris be.1ak./ qy mitt* fafl VffiUhBf, ftUtf behaben./Uf om velde wart ar begraben (126ff.). Again, the hero of Des .111* Chevaliers at del Chalnae Is warned by his companions against obeying his lady's behest and going Into the tourney unarmed* Morte est ta char, t'ame oerle./ vlqM flt, AqlllSlft.MTft (176f.), and Aucassln Includes among the congenial company he hopes to find In Hell 11 bel cevaller cul sont mort as tornols (VI, 32ff.). There must also have been many who, though caring little for the ban of the Church, felt that even the Inadvertent slaying of one knight by another cast a slur not only on the reputation of the Individual responsible, but also on the dignity of the ehivalric order as a whole. When the tourney In question was, as In ,YS»,ffiaafl* a turnei 1. See above, pp. 218ff 2a BGhlmpfa. a sporting exercise or a friendly rivalry in the service of love or honour, such fatal accidents were reckoned doubly shameful*'1' If they occurred, both knightly propriety and Christian sentiment demanded that the contest should at once be suspended, in other words, that the survivors should be willing to set aside their personal desires and ambitions as a token of mourning and as a communal gesture of atonement for the offence of whieh they were the Involuntary accomplices; and that this did In fact frequently happen is borne out by the evidence of both literature and history. 2 A case In point is provided by Xjk 1 a*"*- Here all the requirements of courtesy are observed. The death of the knight is the signal for general grief (Tult en furent mat et morna 91); being denied a grave In consecrated ground he is burled under an elm-tree (Lors l»anfo*r«nt |jj un as— 92), and the assembly disperses (Li tomoi<»Mng <»« 91+). All is correct, civilized and totally impersonal* The lady's husband, not being responsible for the disaster, has no particular feelings in the matter, and the whole incident, which occupies only a few lines, is Introduced merely as a b-31* 1. See above, pp. 276ff. for the term tumel go schlmofe. see Niedner, op.elt., pp. 25C. 2. See above, pp. 277f.. necessary condition for the subsequent appearance of the * ghost1 • In Moriz von OratLn on the other hand, though the basic elements of the action are the samet the afflalr is given a very different complexion. It is treated in far greater detail and above all with a far more searching insight into the springs of human behaviour. There is no trace here of any ideal solidarity linking together the slayer9 the victim and the guiltless in a single corporate unity as fellov- members of the chivalric order. On the contrary the poet draws an almost exaggerated line of distinction between the reactions of the county as the person actually responsible for the accident | and the rest of the companyy including the hero. The count is overwhelmed by grief and shame to think that he has become foms,h Xltt.aESSteA • • * schulthaft (911f.). He retires from the field, like Ulrich at Feldsberg,^ to nurse his wounded honour. With the violent emotionalism so characteristic of the age he throws himself on his bed, weeping and cursing the day that the tournament was ever .278 above). •*36 devised, and vowing life-long sorrow and remorse.1 This Inordinate sensitiveness to personal disgrace was, as we have seen| a fundamental Ingredient In the ehivalric 2 ' mentality* But the misery cf the count is not only psychologically true - it is of direct importance to the course of the action. It makes him less disposed to keep a watch on his wife's movements, so that she can summon her lover with confidence to the tryst (ad muos mln frouwe lich e n / g ins s&t 1210-12)t at the same tine, by preventing him from sleeping and thus (ostensibly at least) compelling the countess to remain by his side longer than she had planned, it helps to precipitate the catastrophe* Moris likewise sees the Incident only as It affects him personally, as a potential obstacle to the realization of his own ambitions and desires. In face of this all- consuming preoccupation, the promptings of Christian charity, eomron humanity, or even knightly good form, are reduced to silence* He has no pangs of eonsclsnoe whatever over the 1. In the same way. Ulrich, when his lady has withdrawn her favours, falls into the most extravagant paroxysms of grief, with loud cries and sobs, so that his companions coma running to see what is the matter, and either mingle their tears with his or fall on their knees In admiration of such exquisite sensibility (Frd. 302,13ff*)* The whole incident, one feels, Is recorded with a good deal of complacency. 2. See above, pp. 284f • death of the man for which he, as Instigator of the tournament is at least partly responsible. To the anguish of the count he is wholly indifferent, merely remarking, when the countess delays her coming, that had he killed nine men he ought not, as a man of honour, a lfl h&XAiSh to be keeping his wife from fulfilling the obligations of courtly love (12l8-2l<-). Between these two individuals stands the anonymous crowd of jousters, hesitating between the conflicting claims of duty and inclination. They view the departure of the count with regret (91**) and are aware that they should follow his example. But when another man is willing to take the responsibility for the breach of etiquette they follow joyfully a lead which accords far better with their own preference, and Morlz has an easy task in persuading them to resume the fighting. The fate of the dead man's soul appears to sit very lightly on their conscience| it is commended, in a manner so perfunctory as to be almost cynical, to the care of St Michael,1 and they turn again In the Middle Ages St Michael was universally believed to be the patron and ohampion of departed souls, who not only conducted the saved to eternal bliss, but bad power to rescue the guilty from the clutches of Satan. Cf. Erec 3649ff.j ir was als der sSle./ der von Mchaele / wlrt ize rSt./ diu lange da gebawen hSt. and (Altd. Texte f.d.akademischen Unterricht, 542, 495,Iff.! Daz sol mln urkflnde sin./ daz snnt Phse die s&Le mln./ ez vemimet die enr.ellsche diet / und sle verderben nlet. 3^8 with relief to their cherished pastime - und 3tachon wlrl (933)* This also rings convincingly true. There is plenty of evidence to show how uncontrollable the passion for jousting could become, overriding politioal or religious restraints^ no less than moral considerations, and how 2bitterly any interference with it was resented. At the 1. So in , itaenc.. 9l8ff. the ladies watching a tourney refuse to budge when the bells ring to vespers - c par vaspras nom oerdam cortl - and Ulrich tells how, when a number of knights were summoned to Friesaeh for the purpose of political negotiation, they wasted all their time at Jousting; Leopold of Austria was angry and Impatient ('qigh caigt d / attl wlr nlht anders --la / ma IIMIsJlt ZsjTYVf 17ff.), but quite powerless to hold them in curb (1In tuot diu rlttersch; 3 9 . . > . 9 A / ata J s L J K I s r i attempts on thepa __ icuf). The nitility or a. rt of Church and State alike to restrain the tournament erase is discussed in the opening section of this chapter. 2. When on one occasion Frederick of Austria has a tourney stopped, the jousters ai his vassals have no choice but to obey; however, they make no secret of their furys dflz 8A_________ _ _ ff.j. Again,when Ulrich's companions on the Artusfahrt feel that they are not having a fair innings they voice their displeasure freelyj Iesllchar sorach Ofii— ■herre mln./ wle nh. wie? waz sol~daz sin?/ sol ym. if.?/ ... ir suit uno ouch stecho *09 sane time It Is indispensable to the continuance of the action that the ehivalric code of manners should be thus flouted| for if the tourney came to a premature end tbe story would collapse with it. Another even more Important factor enters into the question. Justice as well as structural symmetry demand that the lovers shall meet once more with their former positions reversed| that is, the countess must be humbled and the hero emerge triumphant. Since the lady refuses to go a second time to the knight (lU^ff.) the knight must perforce come to the lady, to which end the third person of the triangle, the husband, must be temporarily removed from the scene. This too the poet has managed to contrive in the most skilful manner without sacrificing either coherent motivation or psychological truth. When after lying sleepless for some time (10KM*5) the count at length falls into an uneasy slumber (15^ 6) he is wakened by the ring of metal on the floor of the bedchamber (15^9-51) and sees by the half-light of the lamp (1511f.) a figure in blood­ stained tournament array standing beside the bed. He is so dumbstruck by the shock of the apparition that he cannot even utter a charm against evil spirits (1552- 5*0.1 At once his mind leaps to the conclusion that his visitant is either the devil himself or2 a member of the 1. We can form some idea of the oharm which might have been appropriate to this particular occasion from teemng und Qlrragar (GA.. Ho. LV) 1289ff. where a nocturnal appariti is oonjuro^ i to speak and finally banished by of which the first begins thus 2. >- on two incantations , - _ - » frl & W . Qalter iQh .^sh / HRd ^ WHtmfiLa toi .JBrtsw frao-baai / Sanaa h vil vasf ... In the (Haventh day, ;a?e i) a lady wishing to warn her lover of her husband's presence pretends to mistake her visitor for a ghost and recites an impromptu oharm conveying the situation to him and enabling him to slip away undiscovered. One might also quote in this connexion the very entertaining episode in Frd. 365,12ff. where Ulrich tumbles from his lady's window In the middle of the night and runs down the oastle mound wailing loudly and accompanied by a great rattling of loose stones; the watchman on the battlements thinks ho is the devil, and is frightened almost out of his wits: te* girt.fynttna / wrt Ulti 1$ day aunno ~ u / jaMa Although the count appears to differentiate between the two things, they were very closely connected in medieval superstition. The Wild Hunt was above all the devil's host, issuing forth from Hell, and often led by Satan himself. Cf. Strieker's inrl (ed. Bartoeh, Quedlinburg and Leipzig 1857) 6800f.» a i r iiollen./ sfid anecdote 2BJB, Lib. XII, sman ("i acap. xx, where the devil appears as a _ vcnator") with hounds and horn, and carries off to the soul of a sinful woman. The association of historical or legendary figures, ouch as Arthur, Charlemagne or Dietrich of Bern, with the Wild Hunt is a rather later, more "popular" development of the myth. Mtl Wild Hunt, and that unless God lends His aid. he and his 1 p wife are as good as dead (I56l~65). Here the conventions of ehivalric romance are oast to tbe winds and we can see how primitive was the outlook which lap just beneath that sophisticated exterior. A knight in the position of the count would certainly (if he had any 1. The Wild Hunt went by cany different names in the Middle Ages. That used here (“daz wttetende hor") was used ly from Alsace up tchiefly In Western German o the regions round Luxemburg, though it is also found as far east as Thuringia and Upper Saxony. Other similar expressions are flag, MMrtig.hWr ( , Y,ML.J|gmngglW9lg **79), M H D B W S m m W E B E S B B S tj ™ a abovej, and er von Kaisersberg, Scalp. itrassburg 15107 fol. 3 8 ). The corresponding French expression H,_,, is clearly related to 1 terms found in Latinthe various sources, e.g. famllla " (Orderlcus Vitalis. see above, p. 219 ),, o w u t i w v w i < 5 i y / y fisfwinl (r’larre de Blois, in Migne, Patrolosla CVII. col. ¥0, and gh,-flaMM m l (Walter Map. Da J iV ia lA it | Camden Soo., London 1850, p. 100). For iA e | U c U U U W i O V U * ) L U U U U U y J J* W / * f U f detailed discussion of the whole question of the Wild Hunt see Hans Plischke, M e Gage v«a wilden Heere im deutschel jflp. JR ..fl^fa , (Silenburg 1911*) and Will-Srlch Peuokert. Doutscher daubs das dptttmlttelaltera (Stuttgart 19^2), pp. 2. It was widely believed that the sight of the Wild Hunt spelt doom to the living, even if they were Innocent of any crime. regard at all for the teaching of the Church in the matter) suffer great distress of conscience in that he had caused the death and, worse, the damnation of a fellow-knight5 and It is wholly in keeping with the notions current at the time that he should imagine the spirit of the dead man to be wandering unshrlven over the face of the earth in the Wild Hunt, still retaining its bodily shape and even the dress it had worn in life, and still bearing about it the marks of its death.. But if the fate of his victim lay heavy on his conscience, he had even greater cause to tremble for his own soul, for what retribution might not await the man who was thus guilty of twofold murder? He might well be in fear and dread lest the soul he had despatched to eternal perdition should return to haunt the slayer and exact vengeance. So when Moriz, taking his cue adroitly from the situation, declares that he is indeed the spirit of the dead knight, now suffering In Hell1 and come to fetch away to like torment the man who has destroyed him body and soul, we can appreciate the panic terror of the count which makes him hurl himself blindly out of bed, knocking 1 * Medieval belief oould make a distinction between th' ghost or phantom of the dead man, which could be condemned to remain earthbound in expiation of its sin, and the actual soul, which was at the same time being tormented in Hell* See the example quotedibove on p. 220 « himself senseless,'*' and so giving the hero both opportunity and leisure to take hit revenge on hie disloyal Distress (1560-80). She for her part has looked on dumbly through­ out the soene. Though she recognises at onoe the identity of the visitant (1566f.) she dare not utter a word for' ♦ fear of betraying horself, and when her husband is no longer able to protect her she submits in a kind of daze to her fate (1592f.). The whole episode gives a startlingly realistic picture of three personalities brought suddenly into strong mutual tension at close quarters. Yet in spite of the breathless speed with which the action moves towards the climax, there is no straining of credibility, nor any gap in the motivation. 1, Since we are told that he knocks himself on the shin, we may ao urae that in flinging himself out of bed he trips and falls over one of the pieces of furniture which normally stood beside the bed in medieval times either Si der site der 1st noch rehte und offenllehe erkont, tlber der Franzelse lant, daz m n mit sverten und mit spent turnleret dat wil leman gem Jostierens mit den scheften, der m e sieh da beheften -t mit starken stlohen manicvalt. In more than Just a literal sense therefore the tournament may be said to lie at the centre of Koriz von Craun. It Is the pivot on which the action turns, It provides a background of solid actuality against which the characters can come convincingly to life, and it offers a most effective means of bringing to a head the moral crisis In the light of which the events acquire their true significance. But one final problem remains to be dlscussedt how much of all this already existed In the French source from which our poem Is derived! Any attempt to unravel the various strands of whioh the fabric as we have it is composed must necessarily remain on the level of conjecture. Never* thales3, though we cannot demand certainty, we can at least balance probabilities, and the cumulative weight of evidence Is so strong as to be virtually unanswerable. 1. Partonooler 15ic8ff In the first place, the very closeness vith which these seenes are Integrated Into the general design of the work would lead us to conclude - even without the evidence of Le chevalier mil recovra l»amor Ue sa dame - that they belong to the original source, for any attempt on the part of the German poet to Interpolate them as an afterthought would have Involved re-casting the whole structure of the plot. Moreover, the fact that the service of love should be typified by a tournament rather than some other knightly feat is In itself enough to suggest (though of course not to prove) French rather than German provenance, since France was, as we have seen, the accepted home of the 1 tournament and it was in France that it achieved Its widest 2 and most lasting popularity In both life and literature, whereas In Germany It always remained something of an alien fashion, followed with enthusiasm in certain circles, but never wholly acclimatized.^ For this reason - though temperamental factors no doubt entered Into it as well - the tournament In Germany never quite lost Its exclusive character, whether as an assay of arms or as a social diversion. It seems to have 1. See above, pp. 245ff. , and the quotation at the head of this section* 2. See above, pp. 376ff . 3. see above, pp. 245 and. 377. 1.1. £ ft o remained on tho whole the prerogative of an arlstoeratie minority who, lacking native flair, were forced to surround it with elaborate protocol, which served both to uphold good fora and to distinguish the Initiate from the outsider, and who strove to guard it against mere vulgar univenality by a jealous insistence on the rules of JnmiarfMhiekflit.1 Both these traits are apparent, say, ia gnntmiAwet. where there is a good deal of punctilio and a tendency to concentrate on the niceties of the game, and where the contests (qyen Ulrich's single-handed enter­ prises like the are patronised by a high proport ion of persons of superior rank, counts, margraves, 2 DomvOeto, princes, dukes, and the like. Furthermore, as an imported custom which had attracted no little public attention, it was liable to a certain amount of surveillance from the authorities of Church and state.^ 1. See above, pp. 243ff. This tinge of snobbishness becomes still more marked in the works of later writers, chiefly men of bourgeois origin. 2. iho list of those who assemble in the tournament at Frigsach is revealing in this connexion (Frd. 65,1 - 3. For example, the Duke of Austria refuses to allow Ulrich to go tourneying in Bohemia, because of his feud with the King of Bohemia (Frd. 503,Ilff.) and a group of Church dignitaries, including the Bishops of Bamberg, Salzburg and Passau, try to bring the jousting at Frlesaoh to an end (Frd. 77,25 - 78,16). See above, pp- 240ff. In France, on the other hand, the tournament, if it was not exactly a commonplace occurrence, was certainly no sensational novelty, nor was it felt to call for more than sporadic control or supervision above* The knightly class as a whole Jousted as to the manner bom, and beside the grand tourneys organised by the leading nobility, which were of course extremely splendid and ceremonious, there appears to have been a considerable amount of informal tourneying on quite a modest scale*1 The tourney in Moris von Jraun is clearly of this latter type. It is a private venture arranged by one man for his own personal ends, in which others are invited to Join for apparently no other reason than the love of the sport, and perhaps the hope of booty, since no prize Is offered. It attracts no special notoriety, and there is no hint of any repercussions where the authorities are concerned* The company is neither large nor, as far as we can guess, particularly distinguished. The fighting, which only lasts for a single day,* is attended by a minimum of formality and it breaks up as casually as it began, vith Moriz as the victor only by general acclaim* Apart from 1. This emerges very clearly from the Hlstoira de Guillaume le Marechal. 2. The standard tournament lasted for two or even three days (for the vesperio contrasted with the turnel proper, see Tiledner, op.cix. . pp.80ff.). the hero, whose actions are planned with the utmost care, the arrangements are improvised as the occasion demands, and one is left with an impression of free and easy familiarity whioh shows how muoh the tou-mutant has become taken for granted as part of the recognized business of ehivalric life* The manner of the narrative, no less than the matter of it, distinguishes this episode from any other tournament description in Middle High German literature.1 Works like Gottfried's the and mdrun. in which the tournament plays only a very minor role, scarcely come into the question at all. For Wolfram the tournament is an opportunity to revel in brilliant colour and animated movement, to Indulge his exuberant fancy, and to display his special virtuosity of language, his tortuous syntax, his arresting Imagery and his eccentric circumlocutions. To the writers of the bourgeois school, in particular to Konrad von Mhrsburg, it afforded full scope for a flowery luxuriance of expression and for the portrayal of high life at its most elegant and stylish. For Ulrich it is an object of life-long, almost professional, enthusiasm, in which every technical detail is of absorbing interest. For the authors of the 1M4«m p « i, such as Bltorolf and the 1. see above, pp. 37iff aaa«yartga» *t « » a oeana of gratifying the popular appetite for violence and sensationalism. For the authors of the Kovellan It was part of the machinery of the droll or sentimental anecdote. None of these attitudes corresponds in the least to that of our poet. The nearest approach to it Is undoubtedly that of Hartmann von Auej though more romantic In tone and far more elaborate In detail, the account in fisaa of the tournament enswischen latfifrtan JHfl Zmsinresembles Moris von Crafln in many outward respects. There Is the description of the hero's equipment, his armour, his lances, his horses and their caparisons (Brec 22& * tt.)| there Is the entertainment in the herbaraa on the evening before the tourney, the blase of candles (Brec 237**’ff.), the lavish hospitality (Brae 239Off.), the morning Mass (Brec 2539ff.) followed by breakfast (Brec 25**3)» the donning of armour (Erac 25^6ff.)j as In Hftfla Y9B the limelight Is concentrated on the sole figure of the hero, who displays his Invincible prowess In the unhorsing of a whole series of opponents (Brec 2**27f., 2582f., 2615, 2o01f•) and the breaking of numerous lances (Eras 2507ff.» 2?80f.)j his generosity is equal to his valour, for not only does he refuse to take possession of the horses of his defeated adversaries (Brec 2^29, 26l6ff.), but he gives away his own horses one by one as he changes •♦50 counts (creo 259*ff f.. 2633ff., 2703 f 2782ff.)j and these exploits win for him, as for Moris, the acclamation of both sides (arec 2W72f., 2812)* It has already been pointed out that the author of ilorlz von Craun almost certainly knew, and was influenced by, the works of Hartmann, but it must also be remembered that Hartmann himself is more dependent on his French source in this, his first attempt at chlvalrlo romance, than in any of his other writings! And the tournament episode in Hgfflfl Y9R gratia* with its compactness, its pictorial clarity, its factual truth and its shrewd psychological insight, points even more decisively than Krac to the lands on the other side of the Rhine, and in particular to the regions along the eastern and north-eastern borders of France, for it was here that these qualities were developed to their fullest extent in the conte d»hlatolre and the roman lanndain. and it is here, as we have seen, that the true affinities of our poem may be said to lie. To the material he found in his source the German poet may well have contributed a certain amount of additional detail - derived possibly from Hartmann - as well as those occasional lapses of style almost inseparable from the difficult task of rhymed translation, the formulae (e.g. diu aJJLor treses JLlaSs / Jj- Ae fiahftrtrt aan« 9>+8f.), the 1. The extent of the debt beco oa at onoe apparent when the two versions of the tournament episode are compared in detail rhetorical questions (e.g. wan mtthte ea baz iu g-ozamen? 1<*2), the padding (e.g. harta unmdzan voste 786, or the repeated yftgca. ja^ .gajaffhlaaft.jaa^ ai / den sach man varre aehlnen in 9^3 and 952), and the Involved or awkward sentence-structure (e.g. in 353*58 or 900*06, both of which passages have attracted the attention of the textual critics). But his most important contribution is undoubtedly tbe subjective approach which colours the whole episode* Here, as everywhere else in the poem, ho is not simply reproducing borrowed material in his own language, he is interpreting it in the light of its moral implications, so that in his hands the straightforward recital of events is transformed into a nldce h these. More than this, it becomes the vehiole for his own private ideas and opinions. He is no Impartial moraliser, content to take his views at second-hand. Again and again in these lines we are conscious that a personal note is being struck, a personal standpoint affirmed, a personal verdict pronounced or Implied. We can glimpse his mind at work even in the flow of little incidental comments and reflexions which runs ^51 4 5 2 alongside the main stream of the narrative - daz haete or n5te vemiten (776), qJjb6 (@32), - this is regarded as no mean achievement. So when Boris is made to send men flying out of the saddle so fast that they can hardly be counted, the effeot on a contemporary audience must have been one of caricature. His exploits in the matter of lance—breaking are still more ludicrous. Here too Ulrich gives us a very clear and consistent idea of what vas genuinely possible, and if his estimates deviate from the truth they are scarcely likely to err on the side of modesty. In Frd. 247,25ff. three hundred lances are mentioned as equipment for fifty knights. During the entire tourney at friest only five hundred lances are broken, Ulrich's contribution being no more than fifteen (Frd. 106,23ff.). On another occasion six knights between them account for only a hundred lances in a day's continuous fighting (Fid. 491,14ff.). During the whole Vanunfahrt Ulrich breaks no more than three hundred and seven lances (Frd. 291,10ff.). Xhe largest total he ever achieved in a single day was forty-three (Frd. 272,9ff.), and this was felt to be a quite exceptional feat, only made possible by the hflher muot which his lady's gift of a ring had inspired in him and by the fact that the jousting was continued by torch­ light far into the night. In the romances a certain measure of exaggeration was permitted; Gahmuret, for instance, breaks a hundred lanoes single-handed at Kanvolelz (Parzlval II, 674f.).1 But lor la bx»oako tlireo hundred In one day and even then has to fall hack on hie reserve store* This is frankly grotesque, and must have been recognized as such in its asm day* Tourrjuaent satire was, as we have seen, more character- istio for Germany than for France, Sometimes It may have been based on a genuine dialike and mistrust, sanetlmes no doubt It sprang from that deop-seated urge in human nature to belittle anything that la fanatically admired by others, sometimes It mast have been a natural reaotion against the excesses to Which borrowed fashions are so liable in the country of their adoption* But the satire In uorla von CraOn ie different from any of these* The German poet has experienced the tourna­ ment for himself, perhaps In that unequalled brilliance of form and setting which it attained In the eastern marches of Franco, and not all his uv/uroneao of its limitations and absurdities can make him proof against tho fascination which it still, after more than seven centuries, has the power to exert over all who come into contact with it* 1* This exploit seems to have becoao proverbial. Cf* the lines from Tannhfiuscr quoted on p. 378* 2m 3ee above, pp. 374f«, 378* 43* Chapter Four THE SHIP OH WHEELS A lady lay o'ar caotle-wa', Beholding dale and down, And aha beheld a bonny Ship Come sailing to the town. Look out, look oat, ray maidens a', Ya seena what I see; For I do see as bonny a Ship As ever sailed the sea, And the master o* bar's the bonniest boy that aver ray eyes did sea It is not surprising that aeris* a ttaAaflCflted.. like those of Ulrich, tode the form of an elaborate masquerade, 1, y-V, .^ 1 ?&j„ hill, QP«olt,« o» £88/, BIO, OS, 459 for this typo of emprise fulfilled all the demands of the occasion* In the first place* it offered the knight an ideal opportunity for lavish display within the framework of some definite plan - organised extravagance being naturally far more effective than a mere casual dissipation of wealtht as well as satisfying that craving for ordered form which characterised the chivalric way of life in all its aspects* It also gave ample scops to the medieval passion for dressing- up and play-acting and every kind of romantic "let18 pre­ tend "• In the ffrauendlenat. where the venture is on a niuch larger scale than in Morlz von Cratin, both these factors lead to a certain amount of tension between Ulrich* as author of the whole scheme* who constantly seeks to monopolise the centre of the stage* and his envious peers* who under a show of oo-operation are really trying to steal some of the limelight for themselves* In our poem the issue is simplified and the supremacy of the hero goes unchallenged* both he and his fellow-knights entering into the game with almost childlike zest* As the ship trundles across country his "crew" go through the motion of rowing* singing what we may guess to be a speoles of shanty as they pull at the oars (750ff*)} when Moris takes up his position before the castle 460 J- walla be casts hin anchors (made specially of bronze, like those of the real ships In /aidrun 1109, so that they would be in no danger from the Mfe^ nstic Fountain!) on to the "shore" of the meadow (»93f.)! when there la a danger of the tourney being abandoned after the death of one of the participants, Moris begs the knights jestingly not to leawe him there to "drown" (J22ff.). The poet himself catches something of the spirit of the venture. Moriz is ths achlfman (742, 771, 816, 919), ths scdifhflrre (1007), his mon are marnaore (750) or even Kallottea (870), and it is a rehtor aegelwint that finally brings them to the harbour of their doetination (762f.). The very length and detail of the deseription of the ship, interspersed with exclama­ tions of wonder and admiration - ktlnde ioh lug gesagen! (637), ir erfreischtet dd vor nie / jd ..magel (1058f*) - is sufficient proof of his enthusiasm* But all this make-believe was not without its meaning* A further advantage of the masquerade was that it could , by means of symbolism or some other recognised token, be made to convey a certain message to those for idiom it was designed* When Ulrich chose to impersonate a well-known character of mytholo^ or romance in the Yenuafahrt and Artuafahrt his meaning is obvious enough. Ke must assume that H oriz too, in adopting the rather lees 11 erary, rather more meohanloal, device of the ship on wheels had a particular reason for his choice* At the outset one must ad Blit that there is something about ships in general which holds a peculiar fascination for the human mind* Even today, when they have lost so much of the poetry and the mystery whioh formerly surrounded them, we are apt to find our emotions suddenly and unaccount­ ably stirred by the sight even of the moet prosaic vessel under way, and in earlier times all kinds of idealised con­ ceptions of ships romantic, marvellous, splendidly adorned, i impossibly lovely, seem to have haunted the imaginations of men* There are the ships of medieval romance, such as that °? Guigemart with its ebony pins and its silken sails,'1’ or the magic boat that brings Partonopeus of Blois to his fairy mistress 3- 1* Marie de France, Gulgouar 151ff* It is interesting to note that the principal item of furniture on board this ship is the magnificent bed, the description of which corresponds very closely to that in Horig von cratin* with its gold and ivory inlay work a l^ oevre Salemim. its quilt of gold brocade and its coverlet or sables* 463 Li tree est toe de sole flue} Onques n’ot tel rols ne rolnes De sole fu toe 11 funains,,,! orf as it is described in the German version of -Conrad von Wttrsburg!- Das selbe schlf mit starken listen was gesieret, und allenthalp gevieret mit golds und mit gesteine,,, or again, the little ship in the Katoire del dalnt Graalt- Chele nef estolt petite toute d*argent et si estolt 11 mas d *or et la voile autressl blanchoians come nois negle**,3 There are the ships of early French lyric poetry, such as that from the fifteenth-century chanson a- Que falre a*amour me laisse? Nuit et jour ne puis ciomir. Quand je suis la nuyt couches Me souvient de mon amy. Je mfy levay toute nus Kt prlns na robbe de gris; Passe par la £ulce port© M'en entray en nos jardrinsf J’ouy chanter l'aloueete Kt le rousignol jolis, Qui disoit en son langaigei Vees cy mes amours venir, Bn ung beau basteau sur Seine Qui est couvert de sappinf 1, Partonoieua de Blois 753ff* 2, Partonopler und Melitir 636ff • 3# Kgtoire Ael^ sain.t oraal (ed, £, Hucher, De Mans 1875- 463 Lea cordons on sont de cays, Le voille en eat da satin t La grant nmat an eat d'iviero, L’eetournay an est d'or fin) Les merlnlers qui le meyne:.t Ne sont paa da oe pela **.1 Following the same tradition, there are the ahlpa of Frenoh folksongt» uz'&i fare imp herea Tote or e argon fin, E la metrel sue alga Per ola dsscrublr ,,.8 ort- Fallra la la lie eralgaes risn, la holla, Fallra dondd Venea vous prorasnar, FftllPft Is Xft Mon bateau eat d’Ivoire, Fallra « Sa voile eat ergentde ,,, or the superb vessel of the pirate FoTbant- 1. fftnftlK’n* *VKYfn Cad. Parlo-Oovaoi t, SATF., Parle 1936), No, XCIa. "ie opening lines of tills song Intro­ duce the oharaotoristla French toac- of the girl who rleee early In the .twrning and goes down Into the garden to hear the birds (especially the nl^itlngale) singing, end to meet her true-love* See Chapter IX, pp*66ff. 8* 0. Do iCieux - J* Tiereot, .i daz rfft lift* / A*tST.. M W mors (629f.), Moris ia ths sohiftnan / der ttber lanlfc d.ar (919f.) or (der) uber lant flfiz (973)* The whole matter is summed up in 105Qff*s- ir erfreiachtet dd vor nie dehein sohif sO maere, daz fine wazzer waere. Menestrier, ])ea Sfttrsss e ^ recegtlofta rinoes. oto*. 1701 (published In Oebera op. cit.. Paris L '5Q*t pp. U9ff.)f P« 150i MI1 ne faut pas repr^senter ... un vaisseau en terre ferae j ce sont des impertinences dont Horace s'est moque...” 1. Le ?. Mr? 432 Thus the toumaaent ship combined pageantry and drama, the charm of masquerade and the charm of ingeniouely’-deviaed iaachinery, realism and fantasy, poetry and paradox* Yet the reasons for the choice lie deeper still* In view of the medieval feeling for symbolical form in all the signifi­ cant gestures of life, it would be surprising if it were not imbued with some inner meaning, appropriate to the situa­ tion from which it sprang and intelligible to those for whoa its message was intended* It is indeed more than likely that the whole conception of the ship is a piece of conscious - perhaps only halfconscious - symbolism, whose roots lie in a past that was already remote even in the thirteenth century* To understand its full import, it will be necessary to examine in some detail the position of the ship on wheels in folk-lore and folk existom, and the associations bound up with it* For the more one atudies this question, the more ancient and widespread its ramifications appear. Among the ritual practices of many different peoples, especially seafaring communities, at many different periods, the ship, as the chief means of rubslatence and hence as a symbol of prosperity, naturally plays an important part* The beginning of the fair-weather season in particular, when the sea is once more open to navigation, tends to be celebrated in several ways, most of which involve the taking round of a ship - a model or sacred boat, or even a real vessel - over land in a solemn procession which frequently culminates in a ceremonial launching* This connexion both with the spring­ time and with prosperity, that is, fruitfulness, coupled with the immemorial association of the ship with the bed and the use of the ship, for obvious reasons, as a female symbol, also leads to the persistent occurrence of ships in fertility rites of various kinds* Plenty of examples 1 2far distant in space or time might be quoted in support of this, but there is no lack of evidence among the more familiar nations of Western Europe. Ship-process ions were a common feature, for instance, of the popular religious observances of ancient Greece and Rome. There was the great "Pan-Athenaic** festival at Athens, where a ship on wheels was drawn slowly through the 1. Instances from the Par Gast are cited by Plannhardt, ald- und Feldkults (Berlin 1875)» It 593l by Fraser, The Golden (3rd edn., London 1913), I» P* 251, note 3j by Oscar vlm-ren, N o r d i a c r ^ i i£ lS S SL Urkunden (Frankfurt a.M. i$34), etc. 2. Almgren, o p. cit.. pp. 32ff. quotes examples of cult-ships from Assyria, Babylon and ancient £gypt, going back as early as 2600 BO. 454 city to tho Acropolis, with the peploe of the goddeao u a sail*1 op the spring festivals of Dionysos, In whioh a shlp-ear, ooaetinrsso displaying a riehly-odorned hod, was drawn through tho town accompanied by music and dancing of a wild orotic nature ,a similar practices were observed by the Racasns. U saner quotes an elghteenth-oentury satire Bfl«naijmteren»i» r»*U «a»ht.jag )affiBftand3Ai>0 so also to mark the earning of spring, the Keenans used on the fifth to Xala in a eereraony whioh waa popularly known as “Iaidis naviglura" .* 1, Almgren, 4r« ,, p. 31, and H, Uoener, i P. >4.p Ui 125% 2, Almgren, oo.elt.. p« 89, Usener, oa.clt*. pp.ll5fr., j and A* Frioko.’ihaMs, “Der 3chlffawagenueo Dionyaoa" 3 ., p. 119, not# 4* "L, aeetanl Q. fil. da tota oaten huiuo aetatls literature" by the Jesuit Olulio Casare Cordara (Hague 1758), p, S3* Alzagrsn, orj.olt*. p. 88 mentions a wall-painting from Ostia showing such a Ship-waggon. Oriara, PfqtWifrff (2nd edn., OSttingen 1844), I, p« 8381 SVhaao-it, Oriental ..eljfllonn in Roraav Patmmlga (Chicago 1911), p* 97} Al z~-:o. , ooTclt*. p. 27 done ibos a similar Isis festival at Corinto. Reports of similar practices among certain Germanic com­ munities on the Kibe, suggesting to Tacitus the mistaken be­ lief that the actual cult of Isis had penetrated to the bar­ barians, led him to write in Germania chap. 9i Para aueborua et Isidi sacrlflcati unde causa et ori/ro pere/rrino sacro. narvw cooper1. nisi quod alflnum In nsodun liburnae flguraiMS docet advoctaa rell/rionem. Though Tacitus gives no details of the ritual connected with this '’signum", it is at least possible that a second well-known passage from the Germania Is relevant here, namely the account in chap. 40 of tha wor­ ship of Nerthus, terrain matrem. among seven tribes which Mann- hardt locates in the regions round Schleswig-Holstein.1 Bvery year with the first signs of the coming of spring, the waggon of the deity was brought from the sacred grove, drawn through all the surrounding countryside and finally brought to the waters of a lake for ritual lustration. During this festival all feuds ceased and there was universal concord and good-will, the purpose of the ceremony being apparently 2to ensure peace and plenty during the coming year. 1. Op. clt»» I, p. 568. 2. ;.;o >'ain of Rerthus was hung about with cloths or garments and drama by cows (bubua sj3.iLi.i-.' • I t is interesting to note that both these fea­ tures characteriao the Italian oarrocclo - the wheeled structure to which the standardwa attached in battle, (pont/overleaf) 486 t This equating of Nerthua with th© i>arth-Mothtsr of numerous Mediterranean cults may well be another misappre­ hension on the part of Tacitus , for the only Germanic deity known to us from native sources who bears this name is the Horse NJordr - a male divinity. Njordr seems to belong to a more ancient stratum of belief than his offspring Preyr and Freyja, the "Lord" and "Lady" of the spring and hence of peace and fruitfulness, who perhaps represent a later differentiation of the primitive deity into distinct "male" and "female" aspects; and he may originally have been a god of navigation,^ who would naturally tend to become identified with the god of plenty among those tribas in the coastal (P/note 2 cont.prev.page) supplying both a rallying point and a symbol of victory - whioh was draped with red or white cloth and drawn by oxen (G» Ferrario, op. clt.. II, pp. 61ff«)« Does some memory of this ancient custom survive in the draping of the ships (tectia serlcia coopertorlls) in the Cologne pageant of 1255, and ine !hanglng3 of scarlet cloth with which the ship in Mori a von Cratin ie adorned? It has been suggested by J, S . -;ol .j-lonswisaen- 1914, pp. 139ff.) and C. Rndemacher "Carneval"XVII4. * , y y?M: graft.rheIniache u. wojgtftUacha At Brauasdorf, near P”ur6tenwalde, sailors carry a ship with them in the Carnival procession (A* Cuhn - ¥* Schwarz, Worddeutaohe sagen. MRrohen und Gebrttughe, Leipzig 184 5, Pt 569) • From Bavaria comes the Chiem/rauer ochiffgumgu/r at Unter- wessen, about three miles 8** of Traunatein* as the contours of the Chiemsee have altered, this place is now no longer on the shores of the lake, and the character of the occasion was considerably obscured when it took place for the last time in February 1911, but records of earlier celebrations show that it was unmistakably a ship-feati- val, possibly commemorating a real battle by water, but more probably aa a yruchtbarkeltezauber. Cf. R. Dialer, "Fischer u. Schifferbrfli che aus alter u. neuer Zeit" (.ferriaciie tie It o f. Volkskunda I, Kunlch 1914, pp. 203ff.) and Klaler, "l)er Chiem auer Schlffaunzog" (Zel 3. 352ffTTTVereina f. Volkakunde. XXI, 1911, &g.yi.e. qbyAtt.-d. In the Bavarian Danube regions "Fastnachtskthne" are drawn on rollers through the villages (M&nnhardt, op* cit*i I, p* 394, note 1), rr other customs of a similar nature connected with the Danube see Bimrook, op* clt*» 4th edn., p. 574, K. &. Rochhols, ierspiel. Leipaig 1857# pp* 227f*j «Sfl * ugnita#laUlUA, XSJJ I , W CC fl • ± p .yp ± K ^z* iP h P. • 54ff* For an account of the■9, pp. H m a p an der Klbo. aee Mltteldeutsche Blatter p. 139". generally of a simple and archaic type in whioh some element of ritual moaning may still survive. Whan the Carnival ship on wheels ia transplanted to inland regions.1 especially to the teems, it rapidly becomes dissociated from any Inner significance and beooraes e more popular spectacle of the kind as have already mentioned in connexion with the public pageantry of court or city. This was particularly the oase in the cities of south Germany, where the Carnival Whip exercised a strong appeal from quite early times. The growth of urban populations, greedy for sensations and festivities of every sort, the Increase of wealth, which made It possible to organise public shows on the most lavish scale, and the group rivalries cf the various guilds and crafts vying with each other in out­ 1. Xt is especially interesting, in view of Tacitus' "pars Sueborum , that up till last century the practice sur­ vived In 3wahia of placing a ship on a sledge in vary early spring, when the snow was still on the ground, and dragging it through the village with a fire burning In the crow's neat and the masts hung with eatables (B, eier, Daubacha 8nan: . 311.ton u. OobrBuoha eon aehwWben. Stuttgart 153. p. 574 j. 2. documents from Eger mention a aoMlYuuxujirt in 1474 as "Xnapperibrauoh der TuciimucUor" (3na.-r.cir. oo.oit.. p.61). The iTuromborg "Sehenbartlsufen" was originally the prerogative of the butchers' guild. lay and ostentation - all these factors combined to produce Carnival celebrations of the most extravagant character* Only too often the procession itself was little more than the pretext and signal for general merry-making and indeed in some oases a record of the occasion has only come down to us because the revels led to such disorder and licentious­ ness that the authorities were compelled to intervene and issue an edict forbidding the pageant as a whole* Thus in 1530 the city fathers of Vim decreeds~ "Item es sol sich niemen mer weder tags noch nachts verbu2enf verkleiden9 noch einlg fassnachtkleider anziehen, ouch sich dea herumfahrens des pflugs und ait den schiffen enthalten, bel straf 1. gulden”* 1 Again in 1539 the famous "Schembartlaufen” at Nuremberg had to be suppressed because the populace had got out of hand9 and it is duly noted in the city archives that i- ”2)as oohCnbartJLauffen9 welches ohnedem mit versch- wenderisohem Pracht, grossem Missbrauch und alien Muthwillen begleltet war, von nun an verbotten wurde*" 2 1. HathapTOtgkoAl voa«lcq^abafld 1530, quoted by Grimm, op, olt*y I. p* 242* who gives a reference to C* J&ger, aeyiMeftfi. a U f t t e M M W L z* p» 525 • 2* Quoted, without naming the source, by K* Sauery Die K*l3teraiog*r (Leip*i« 1935) pp. 26f. 4 9 4 + in this procession th* ship on rollers - tbs «Scher*>orth5lls" • manned by s crow a t devils, fools sod masked grotesques, and surrounded by a swarm of man dressed in mock "livery", was by tradition one of ths principal items.1 Eventually th* association of a ship with these and similar outbursts of riotous buffoonery impressed Itself on the consciousness of th* ag* to sueh a degree that contemporary moralists, seeking an allsgorloal setting for their attacks on the follies and vices of mankind, naturally turned to the idea of a Ship, and ths eagerness with which their works were seised on shows that the inctinet whioh guided their oholoe was not at fault* -y The moot celebrated of these shlp-allegorles is, of course, the urro. ucniff of 8obastlan Brandt, first printed In 2494 kuo Basal uff die Vasonnacht (1), but Zameks In ths Introduction to his edition of the fou.- c .aqhifg8 quotes throe other shlp-oatlres from places as far apart aa Austria and the I etherlands.0 1, Pictures of the lurertberg ship on wheelo are published "by Bauer 9 oa.cit.. p.29 from tbs "iittmbergiaches SohBn- bartbueh" in the Staata- und Univwrsl t*tsb ibli o thek, tiantourg, and by Spvisr, Die dautqpfty (Leipzig 1938), XX, p.105, from the ''3chumbm;tbuch" now at Leipzig, 8, Pp. IX X t t , 3, nmm dep r u * . t by Heinrich Telshnor, written In via In the seooitr i © cond hair o f th e fo u r te e n th centuryz Pit tolsuwe Sohuto. written in a Low oorman dialect by (cont/ovQAaoaf; 495 The woodcut illustrations to the flarrenachlff always show a water ship, but there are one or two small indications that Brandt himself meant hie Ship of Fools to be an arti­ ficial structure moving over land in the true Carnival tradi­ tion* Jometimos he actually refers to it as a *agen or Karren* and in chap* 80 there is an illuminating passage where he tells how the Foolish Messengers who are the subject of the chapter run after the ship till they find it somewhere between "here" (i*e* Basel) and "Aachen”*- 80,23f• Bern narrenschyff louffen sie noch. die fynden es hie swflsohen Ach***l "Hie zwtlschen Ach” - the words are not without significance * For the second main area where the Carnival ship flourishes, where its true home probably lies, and where the nearness of the Rhine suggests that it still retains some part of its original meaning, is the border territory between France and Germany - the strip of land roughly following the course (F/note 3 cont*prev*page) Jacob van Oestvoren and published in 1413; and the I*loht)-schlffj, by .Toichturv:en des Mlttelalters (Leipzig 1872), 785ft*, 4. Kd* d# Martin (Berlin 1866), 1023ff. 505 rtorig von Crafln, stands quit© alone in MH&* literaturet and whichf again like Morlz von C radii* has been preserved only in the Azaoraser Heldenbuch*^ * Here the usual convention is reversed* In the episode of the abduction of Hilde by Wate, Fruote and Hdrant the personal equipment of the three warriors is touched on very lightly, while the ships built for the expedition by Hotel are described in the most cir­ cumstantial manner* Here too we meet with that blend of technical precision and fantastic splendour which we have remarked in connexion with the ship in Morlz von crafln* dome of the details even tally exactly in the two accounts - for instance, the silver (or "silver-bright") rivets and nails, the silken anchor-ropes, and the bronze anchors* 1* The provenance and topography of ^udrun also have certain points in common with our text! ror instance* the central episode is located near the mouth of the Scheldt, that ia, not far from the Flemish border. see above, p#460. 604 Two small tout significant details suggest that the Idea ot the bridal quest was indeed present in the poet's mind when he made his hero ease sailing over land to woo and win the countess by prowess of anas* The first Is the red oolour (the only specific colour mentioned in the whole passage) of tho cloth fetched expressly from Flanders to drape the hull of the Ship*1 Among colours red has always been notably rich in sysfcollo meaning* but only too of thoao aspects concern os here. It la the colour of blood and henoe of war*8 and It Is the oolour of love.3 .gftfega mtmWnJ but ■;Q, tolls how the people of Slphnoe were warned by an oraole to beware of "a wooden host and a herald In aoar~ let"| this prophecy was fulfilled* according to Herodotus* by a fleet of Samians who defeated the Slphnlans at sea* beaaaae "In ancient times all Ships ware painted red". / ^ ^ ^ \ n c t 9 V \ \ ^ iQ 6 £ <* 11 CN<0TVK 1 ouble de cuivre rouge 9 9 Gree dfor et d'argent... or the charming fantasy of Les dames de la Rochelle ont arme un bAtiment, Pour aller faire la course dedans les mere du Levant. La coque en est en boia rouge travaille fort proprenent9 La mftture est en ivoire, les poulis en diaraant, La grand * voile est en dentelle, la misalne en satin blanc9 Leo cordages du navire sont de fil d'or et d'argent, , L'equpage du navire, c'est tout filles de quinse ans... U fpari^ ioaoj Cfntpa ^ mUAlreB de ** aauto-Brotagno 2. £. Holland, pp. olt.. II, p. 40* 3* Doneleux-Tiersot, o p . clt., p. 419. The phrase about the oowo en »ola rou^e timlUe ffiUaBfaflfgffli recurs in an almost identical form in versions from Aunia (Canteloube, op. cit.. II9 p. 371) qnA Saintonge (com­ municated orally by M. Jacques Maries). We must therefore assume that the choice of red cloth for the hangings of the ship in rtoria von Grata is no arbi­ trary preference, but a deliberate pieoe of symbolism and as such an essential feature of the whole design* To what stage in the evolution of the text tho idea of the red ship belongs, or from what source it was derived, it is impossible to say with any certainty• Slavonic or Scandinavian in­ fluence is in the highest degree improbable; it may con­ ceivably have been Introduced for the first time by the German poet on the basis of native traditions firmer and more deeply- rooted than one would guess from the vague allusions that > , ■ ■■ ft. have survived in Kudrun and Dietrichs Flucht: nevertheless it le difficult to avoid the conclusion that in this matter, as in so many others, the evidence points to France rather than Germany* The symbolic purpose of the ship is confirmed by a second unexpectedly revealing detail* when Morlm is steer­ ing the ship to its final position under the castle walls, we are told that a fanfare of trumpets and other instruments ie sounded on board als er gallotten / fuorte mit alnem here* / und rouben welts, tfwn mere (370ff*). . The meaning of /sallotten in this passage has been much debated. It ie a word of Romance origin; the French form 810 « » « * denotes in the first instance a sailor (from -alia which survives in the English. *galley") oo fop example in Spjmi MiMiMg os66f«* ; : iaaatjm ,fliito / saX .le mtlSat. fa tmynle. lSSaSff.l MJWAft JllfflMi / '7n Huilat aa BFm\.TsmW/ aHuwmpt IX MnmfojtkJxHt*/ a w U a t m m m «am» «na lOB^af.s at Aft ffi»t frswri 3Ui / -ft ftCTWiUBa a* flUtfgt* 3«» it acqulr-os the mors spoolallsad meaning of sea-pirate or corsair, as in Parto-no- sam W4«f *i (rtmt milftt gqryrt age. aar. / tot .tenant 9& i "■ ■*aana nor .obex*. From French it sas taken over into Middle High iejwasn as SBllSl* -^uXt- os (this last probably influenced by ths Italian form • As far as 1 hare been able to dissever it oesurs only ones in medieval Gorman literature in the sense of "Bailor", namely in ths Legend of 8t Adrian from ths Passional, share the devil appears in ths fans of s Shipman to lure s boat to destruction; si atefeft, .rafiisw. m x ISAaKt.8 xt Is slightly mors frequent in 1, Further instanosa of tho word in both senses are given by Qodefroy, and Toblor- 8. Bd, K, KBpks (Lslpsig 1988), • 470, 4. 511 the sense of "pirate", as in Wigaloia 14911ff.i die +:aliOt« man vltthtic aaoh / vor in V-U dicke 3f dem ner« / er hgt entschumpflert ir war,1 but the word was never a common one in Gorman and in this context its appearance is admittedly somewhat surprising* It is indeed so unorthodox that achroeder rejects this interpretation of the word altogether on the grounds that the conception of "rausikalische Piraten" smacks of a modern 2 operetta and is from the medieval standpoint an absurdity. In this view he is followed hy both Stackraann and R.M. Meyer a-' to get round the difficulty Schroeder takes galiotten as a misunderstanding on the part of the poet for the quite dif­ ferent word ^alotten I Welsh minstrels) and proceeds to use thio theory as a prop for hia argument that our poet knew and was influenced hy Gottfried fs Tristan, where the rhyme- pair rotten//?alotten is found in lines 3 6 7 5 f B u t this explanation leaves out of account the quite unambiguous und 1. Joaaphat (ed. K. KOpke, KOni^borg 2* Introduction to the edition of 1913# PP* 17f* 3* Staokmann. op* clt*. pp. 113f* and R*M* Meyer, "Bligger von 3teinachMf p* 326* 4. Hqeifrog,.ufide rottefl / lepteajalch.a^open, from th. young Tristan's account ofnis x^ arious musical accomplish­ ments* 513 roub.cn. volte dfem mere* which indicates that tho poet knew quite well what he was doing when he chose the word ^allottan* and that he definitely meant to convey the idea of piracy on the high Mae* And is the notion of mueic in this context actually so incongruous? That Moris9 retinue included a company of lusioians is in itself no matter for surprise* The impact of pageantry is doubled when it appeals to both ear and eye alike9 and music has always been a natural adjunct to visual spectacle, quite apart from its own unique power of focussing and intensifying crowd emotion* The ship on wheela9 by its connexion with a way of life in which song has played a part from tho earliest times, by its touch of decorative unreal­ ity, and by the very nature of its structure, is well suited to serve as a background and platform for musical display, and we find it everywhere associated with some form of vocal or instrumental accompaniment, from the ^enora diversoram malcorum and the turola cant lea of the St Trond procession to the nymphs and shepherds chantans. aelocliouaement at Rome in 1634, from the whistling of the sailors in the Cormass festival at Dunkirk in the eighteenth oentury to the sweet singing and playing of the clerics on board the ships that greeted Isabel of England on her arrival at Cologne more than six centuries earlier* Bat music was also a regular feature of the tournament cavalcade# Our most detailed information on the subject comes, as we would expect , from Ulrich von Lichtenstein# He differentiates carefully between the tareise and the reisenote# The former was sung, either by minstrels or by the tourneying knights themselves, and was distinguished from other types of song current at the timef such aa the Hinnelled. by its warlike tone and its swinging dactylic or trochaic beat# Ulrich quotes in full two flzreise of his own composition,1 which, he says, enjoyed great popula­ rity in their day and which give us a very good idea of the genre. The refeeaote on the other hand was an instrumental composition, played presumably by professional musicians either singly or in consort. The predominating instruments 2 seem to have been drums and trumpets, and the music was clearly of a military kind, perhaps a species of cross be­ tween the march and the fanfare, Ulrich gives us several 1. Frd, Lied XVI, 403, 25ff, and Lied XXXVIII, 456, 25ff, 2, These are the instruments played by the minstrels in the simplified representation of a tournament cavalcade in the miniature of Duke Heinrich von Breslau from the Manesse codex. 614 accounts of tbs roisenote# of which tho fullest is that in Frd. stanzas 432-486, whore trumpets, pipe and tabor, and viols are severally mentioned# Wo have descriptions of roisenote from other sources too# When ahmuret rides into Kanvoleis ho is escorted by a group of musicians playing trumpets, drums, flutes and viols#1 In the Turnci von Nanthelg drums, trumpets (? horns) and fifes are played# In the passage from our text under discussion, the poet ia obviously thinking of a reisenote# performed in this instance by a rather more ambitious ensemble consisting of drums, flutes, horns, trumpets, fifes and stringed instruments# As a prelude to the tourney, therefore, this cavaloade to music has nothing unusual about it# But the allusion to "pirates" still remains somewhat cryptic, and to explain it we must consider rather more closely the significance of the terms reisenote and dzreise# The fact that both contain the word raise# which in the thirteenth century still retained its primary meaning of "military campaign", suggests 1. Parzlval. II, 126ff# 2. .laael, vpa „ 703ff. 3# It is not known exactly what was meant by a rotte# which may have been a type of harp, or else an areuaic cind of f ' dd le • that they represent an adaptation to mock warfare of something originally associated with serious fighting* The reloonote as a preliminary to battle does not appear to have been very common in the Middle Ages, though examples of it are recorded,1 It may be that the sound of medieval instruments , so appropriate to the decorative setting of the tournament 9 was not powerful enou h even in concert to be effective on the actual field of battle , nor would it kindle emotion to anything like the same extent as the mass singing of the flzrelse in which all could participate, Sven Tacitus in chap, 3 of the Germania notes of the Germanic tribes that Iturl in proella canunt, and in MHG, literature there are many references to the wioliet or wtcleich whioh preeeded any bel­ ligerent enterprise. In warfare against ths paynin such songs would take the form of a hymn, like the lioth frfoo of 1. Uehulte, op. oit.. II, p. 282, note 3* quotes an example ***■ v^p.-jlgc XXIII, p. 276)« g.| 1 tgrSrtSr 1 c- -3 accolerantV j^iker insi^ce/ fron riohengrin (ecT, k? ftdctert, Quedlinburg 1858) 5041f£ concerns music played on the c arrocclo, which was in Itself a visible focus of in- aplration, as well as providing a platform from which the musicians could command attentions Man lflte flf dea karruts- chen gadem / dljiLlockem ci6 Uuw 3Pftrren, *& te Aar. 2, Schults, loo, cit,. pp, 282f, 510 the ninth-century Indvir-alled,1 or the Crusading songs of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, but the custom also prevailed in private hostilities and in forays for plunder9 whether by land or by sea* In the case of sea-fighting, the warrior song of expectation or triumph would naturally tend to merge into the rhythmic shanty-type chant of the sailor, and the song sung by Moris • men at their oars when the ship first sets out on its voyage may well be an example of this* In the same way we hear in Kudrun 545* 1 that after the fight on the WtUpensandet die .iungen helde aumren do sie wolten dan, and again in Kudrun 1117, 4t do el sen achlffen giengen di* fawUn ritter h6rt» a*n Bingen iUX*. Another passage in Kudrun 695, Iff*, though it refers to land rather than sea-fl^hting, offers an even more suggestive parallel to Moris von Crafln because of the stress laid on the idea of booty, roubesi- Dfl si nu koraen w&ren v(lr das burge tor, vil aingender knappen hOrte man dar vor, die sich in herten striten roubes versfihen. So the music played in Morig von Cratin has a twofold implication* In one sense, it is simply a tourneying reisorxote of the usual kind* On the other hand, these 1. Braune, Althoohd eut aches Lesebuch (loth edn*, 1942) Ho. XXXVi, 45. martial drums and trumpets proclaim to all and sundry that here Is no ordinary vessel manned by peaceful mariners, but a fighting ship with a crew of /galiotten* sea-rovers bent on capturing a double prise - victory in the tournament, and the love of the countess* To the poet9s contemporaries this conjunction of performance and setting would doubtless convey its message more plainly than to us; yet even we, who have the bare reference to go on and who know virtually nothing of the emotional or symbolic overtones of music at this period, can discern something of the care that brings even such apparently unimportant details into line with the plan of the whole* It remains, in fine, to show what conclusions can be drawn from all this* In the first place, it is quite evi­ dent that the choice of a ship on wheels as the basis of a tournament masquerade was not a casual freak of fancy but sprang from a widely-ramified tradition which, though of great antiquity, was still vigorous and had not yet sunk to the level of mechanical convention* Prom the foregoing pages three principal attitudes to the ship on wheels emerge i (i) It could be derived from primitive cult-practices bound up with the cycle of the seasons - especially the spring and summer months - which linger on in folk-usage with their original meaning more or less obscured and which in time become no more than a stock ingredient in popular revelry at Carnival timej (li) it could be a piece of pageant machinery in which ritual and symbolism played at most a subordinate part and which relied for its effect on outward magnificence, ingenuity of con­ struction and the charm of novelty; (111) its ancient ritual associations combined with the glamour of pageantry could create round it an aura of erotic fantasy which first appears in the aristocratic romances of the Middle Ages and subsequently passes into popular romance in tho form of the folk-song and folk-ballad* In the ship in Moriz von Cratin all three approaches are presents the connexion of the wheeled ship with the cult-ritual of spring and summer links it at once with what was the normal time of year for tourneying; it ie also intended as a spectacle in its own right to dassle and aston­ ish the crowd and to advertise the hero's wealth and generosity; in addition it contains a strong suggestion of romantic sentiment, heightened by an intricate pattern of symbolism extending to every detail of the design* In other words, it was chosen partly as being striking and appropriate in itself, partly as the vehicle of a message which was sufficiently clear to be appreciated straight away in its own day and age, yet not so familiar that it had lost all its power* In the matter of racial and geographical distribution, however, these three conceptions do not always coincide, and there is a perceptible divergence of usage between France and Germany, the two countries with which we are here con­ cerned* Ritual ship-proceesiona are comparatively rare in France, and when they do survive it is usually in a much altered form and under the direct patronage of the Church| whereas in Germany there are many regions where such cere­ monies still persisted in quite an archaic form within the last hundred years, and even today the Carnival ship is no uncommon sight* This survival of the ship on wheels in the homely festivities of the common folk is perhaps the cause of its rarity in more exalted strata of societyf apart from the Cologne pageant of 1235 I have not been able to discover a single instance of the ohip-ear in German state or aristocratic pageantry* Possibly it was for the same reason that in Germany the idea of the splendid barque of love never developed that wealth of romantic suggestion which in France caused it to pass into the permanent repertoire of popular imagery | in fiHG* literature the ship-descriptions of Kudrun stand, as far as I know, alone, nor is there any- thin^ in German folk-song comparable vith the fifteenth- century picture of tho beau baateau nur aelne. or "Les dames de La Rochelle1* or the ballad of the pirate Forban. In the border regions between France and Germany these divergences tend to melt into a single common tradition, and this is particularly true towards the north, that is, in the areas round the lower reaches of the Rhine, extend-* in# on one side into Brabant, Flanders and so into north­ eastern France, on the other into Holland and few Germany# Here, as we have seen, ship - processions and ahip-pageants have always flourished, whether in Germany# as near Aachen in 1155 and at Cologne in 1255, or still more frequently in those French-speaking territories that comprise the modem Belrium* Moreover it is only in the TiOw Countries, includ­ ing low Germany, that we find on Germanic soil that image ' • + ; . of the splendid ship which we have ohowxl to be so characteris­ tic for France* An example from Holland is quoted on pp.464f. and in the case of Kudrun itself the form of the heroine's name, quite apart from the North Sea setting of the action, points unmistakably in the same direction# Ship-notifa are on the whole surprisingly rare in German folk-song, but it le significant that in practically every instance where they do ocour the song in question also exists in a Dutch or Low VRt German version, like the ballad Graf und Norms^ or the celebra­ ted carol Ka kommt ein tfchlff Bladen,2 which though tradition­ ally ascribed to the Alsatian mystic Johannes Tauler of atrassburg is now thought to be likewise of Lover Rhenish provenance • Since both the author of Moriz von Cra&n and the author of the lost French conte on which it is based come from their respective sides of this frontier region it is impossible to do more than speculate whether the ship-eplsode is the invention of the German poet or whether he found it in his source; but on both external and internal grounds we are probably justified in assuming the latter* * There is no need to suppose with Rosenhagan*' that the incident has any basis in fact, in the sense that the historical 1* Krk-Boehmo, Peutocher fxied^ rhort* No* 89a s where it is stated that Low German versions "of the ballad were cur­ rent already in the fifteenth century. A Dutch version is published by Hoffttannvon Faliersleben, "Mederlflndioohe Volkslieder" (Horae Belgicae 2, 2nd ech. Hanover 1856) No* 18* 2* f%rk-Boehme, op. cit*. No* 192Lt "Man hat das Lied Johannes Tauler augenc!j?iebenf doch mehreres spricht uaflr, dass die Originalfassung niederrheinisch war”. A Flemish version is published by H* von Faliersleben in "Nieder- lftridische Gelatliche Lieder dea XV. Jahrhunderts" (Horae Icao 10, Hanover 1854) No. 26, and a Purch version by F* van Duyse in Hot onde God e r-Land *iche Iiied III (Ant­ werp 1907) No* 484*~ -J. Kosenhagen, in the artlole quoted above, p* 806* Seigneur de Craon actually had a tournament ahip-car built in the service of Isabelle de Beaumont* bike the whole mise-en-scene of the story* it belongs to the native back­ ground of the poet rather than that of his Angevin hero. In the north eastern marches of France* where* as far as we can tell* the original conte was composed* the ship on wheels would be a more familiar sight during the tourneying months of spring and summer than in the home of the German poet higher up the Rhine on the borders of Franconian and Alemannio territory* Here too it could acquire that unin­ hibited opulence which characterized all the pageantry of north-eastern France and Flanders* while still retaining its age-old symbollo meaning; it is* after all* from Flanders that the scarlet cloth is brought which transforms the oar into the red ship of the bridal quest* All this suggests that the ship-eplsode was not Inter­ polated by the German translator* but existed already in his lost French source* Furthermore* it has in no way the air of an afterthought* Though not strictly speaking in­ dispensable to the course of the action* it is not* as Rosen- hagen asserts* simply a handy means of conveying the knight to the scene of the tournament* to be "80hleunlg8t beoeitigt" when its purpose has been served* As a piece of highly appropriate symbolism* as an opportunity for the display of 533 chivalric virtue, even as a counterpart to the luxurious bed of the countess, it is fitted carefully into the framework of the tale and cannot be lifted away without damaging the fabric of the whole, ■ On the other hand it is very likely that in its original form this episode was relatively compact and straightforward, and that the Oerman poet has, after his usual fashion, added a good deal of amplifying detail. Ve are probably justified in ascribing to him the reference to Cologne (641) and per­ haps the references to the Maas and Rhine as well (688), He is almost certainly responsible for the simile of the lampartlecher van (738) which* like the allusion to the ruins of Home (228f«)* may perhaps reflect a first-hand knowledge of Italy* gathered it may be in the course of one of the Imperial campaigns. The lengthy account of the building of the ship appears to be another of hie independent contributions to the poem. The vocabulary used is entirely native and contains many technical words* ouch as ,:etraeoet (639), .eschracmsb (640), beschisgen (642), rams (651),_dy& (727), phllhtan (968) and possibly grans and za-tel (670), which hint at some degree of personal familiarity with the subject. The German poet should also in all likelihood be given the credit for the various expressions of approval 524 or disapproval which form a kind of running commentary to the narrative, mich as the reiteration of the idea of wunder1 in von ; f ^ STltcta^ ^ c i i e n (628) , durph (631), daz was ela wunderltchez dlno (679), dltz wM . gift w^erlfcfr H j g g (720); the admiration for the skill of the master- workman (wlaheit 633, kunditter sin 730); the emphasis on the costliness of the projeot (/mot 633, unkttste 633); and the hint of censure implied in the phrase: daz raohte er wol vermiden; / e & , ( 6 » 2 f . ) . Finally there are the stop-gap words, the rhetorical questions, the parentheses and interjections of the type usually grouped together under the genor&l label of "Spiel- mannsforraeln*, which serve to sustain ths interest of ths hearers, to fill out a line or a couplet, or to supply a convenient rhyme. Typical instances are n& saget lch lUa kttad. lch (623), vernemet (639), kttads lch lug reaa^en (637), kttode ichz iu rshts ireaagen (706), expressions like t^rte vaste (671), ze aller zite (746), and above all gehant (643, 650, 673* 714)* Occasionally the result is a happy one - we may guess that the vivid and original image of the bride in 748 was introduced in the first place to provide a rhyme 1* "Wunder" is one of the German poet's favourite wordst cf. also lines 71, 194, 885. 928, 1577, 1508, 1600, etc. fo r liute in the preoeding line* Elsewhere we gain the impression of an earnest hut inexperienced poetic crafts­ man whose talents are not altogether equal to the task he has taken in hand* All this inevitably belongs to the realm of guesswork* Nevertheless, even these tentative speculations add their support to the main conclusion that the account of the ship in ftorlg von 0 rafln represents an expanded version of an episode which already formed part of the lost French original* 526 r i Chapter Five L&NQUA0JS AND DIaLBOT Tiuachlu sunge diu ist ami swer dar inne vil tihten, sal er die rede rihtenf sd rauos er wort spalten und zwei zesamene valten. das taete ich geme, kunde ich daSj raeisterltcher unde baz* Our only knowledge of Horiz von Crafln is derived from a single not very accurate copy made nearly three hundred years later in a completely different part of the German­ speaking area* Had the work been written in prose, the task of textual reconstruction would have proved well-nigh impossible, though here and there some error on the part of the scribe might have given us a due to the spelling of his immediate source• As it is, we have one limited but reliable means of penetrating behind the early sixteenth- century Bavarian of the MS* to the language of the original text - namelyt the rhymes.1 . The poet is admittedly no outstanding practitioner of his craft. He himself concedes as rauoh in his closing lines, quoted at the head of this chapter, where he complains how hard It is to write verse correctly and wishes that he were more skilful in the art of handling words* He appears to have a certain predileotion for open, i.e* vocalic, rhymes (for example, dd/swft 261f.| mfl/wfl 545f.I hi/at 307f.| dd/frO 815f*. 913f«l wje/le 455f.| knle/le 831f»l ede/^e 921f.| lu/driu 1325f*t guo/fruo 1503f*)| and his work con­ tains a strikingly high proportion of feminine rhymes (about o forty per cent of the total), including three-syllabled forme like lebene/vergebene (129f*, 1721f.) and fremede/Betnede (1175f.). For the rest his metrical technique, though com­ petent, lacks any distinctive qualities* In the same way hie repertoire of rhymes is largely conventional, though 1. The question of the rhymes in Horig von urafln has been treated in an exhaustive but somewhat pedestrian manner by K* Galabov, Relmtechnlk in ♦Moris van Orafln' (Annualre de 1*university e Sofia, Kao. hi'.t.-phil*, XXII, 1926) Bulgarian text provided with an abstract in German)* 2* Schroeder uses this faot aa evidence for dating the poem (edition of 1913, Introduction, p. 9*). 528 r ± ev e ry now and then he introdces a rather more unusual word- pair, such as zlna/flins (5Q9f.), getracmet/CTachraemet (639f.), vagzer/mazaer (791f«), fiuwejr/achiuwer (8Q5f,), otl^ae/brlmioe (l683f»), or experiments in a very modest fashion with such tricks of style as grammatical rhyme (e*g, hto/hfln 431f«l »in/aip 1489f•) and variation (e,g, ain/gewin/gewiiuieymin^ 3913& 5 gie/^ie/lieg/hiez 1435ff• I tac/mjac/thgeyahge 405ff•) • nevertheless he brings to his versifying the same conscien­ tiousness that he displays in matters of morality, and he has clearly taken great pains to make his rhymes conform to the accepted rules of Middle High German prosody. We can there­ fore start from the assumption that any examples of regional forma occurring in rhyming position are not the re suit of carelessness, but do genuinely reflect the speech-habits of the author and are thus a most valuable aid in establishing the provenance of the poem. In the Middle Ages, as today, adjacent dialect areas were not demarcated by clear-cut boundaries | they shaded off into each other by imperceptible stages of transition. When we attempt, for purposes of contrast, to define regional idioms within the general framework of Middle High German - jL those that concern us here are the Franconian branch of ) Middle German and the Alemannic branch of Upper German - we are dealing with a general tendency to diverge in respect • t y; ia , • At' ’ ■ 529 of pronunciation and spoiling rather than with any hard and fast distinction* The difference between them is built up of a mass of complex and shifting details, each of which, viewed ia isolation, carries little weight| only their collective evidence is strong enough to serve as a basis for definite conclusions* A ease in point is the question of the retaining of un­ stressed e after liquids or nasals* Scattered throughout the text, but especially frequent in the first few hundred lines, are various instances of this & preserved in rhyming position, e*g* here/were (29f.), beware/widervare (325f#)» geyrjmpt/aos&A (477f.), were/mere (629f.), raae/aiaaaft (651f*), zlle/vile (757f.), ttlre/fnre (Q53f*)# kome/froae (1233f#)* such rhymes cannot have been introduced by the scribe, for in his native Bavarian dialect the sound had long since dis­ appeared, and he betrays his unfamili arity with it by more than one inconsistency of notation} sometimes he omits the e, as in an/fan (737f*), widerfam (400), flepom (427), else­ where he inserts it wrongly, as in r1are (32) for .1&r* and Bagete/tMSte (I601f.) for Baggt/tage*.1 1* The position is further complicated by the lack of agree­ ment between the different editors of the text* Both Sohroeder and Pr^tsel alter the MS# readings tillen/afflen (727f*) and daruore/empore (799f*) to the contracted forms dlln/olln and vorTenbor» But in 737f• Schroeder folio ' (cont ./overloaf) Ve must accordingly assume that rhymes like here/were go back to tho original text of tho poem* But thoir useful­ ness ae a linguistic criterion is very limited, for though the retention of unstressed e was normally characteristic of Middle German, it was also quite common in Low or Rhenish Memannic, 1 and we are not entitled on these grounds alone to assign the work to any particular part of the total area involved* The same thing applies in the matter of secondary muta­ tion, Certain foatures of the text are unmistakably Middle German, such as the rhyming of old e with the mutated 4 in ehte/rehte (963f*, 1219f«)» or the presence of imitation in the Preterite subjunctive of aachon, confirmed by the rhyme rehte/mehte (MS* rechte/micnte) in 1743f#2 However, beside these Middle German forms there are other examples of second­ ary mutation which could equally well be Alemannio, such as (P/note 1 cont.prev*page) the MS* and keeps an/van while Pretsel emends to ane/vane; in 757f•, Jchroeder again follows the MS* and keeps silo/ vile while Pretzel emends to zll/vil; on the other hand in 24 Pretzel follows the MS* and keeps werten while Schroeder emends to were ten* 1, See^Michels* ittelhochcputsches ^lementnrbuch (3rd edn*, 2, The rhyme rehte/nahte suggests that Schroeder is correct in emending the corrupt MS* read in: geworchto/geolacht;o in 1137f • to geiaahta/geslehte: Pretzel orexirs the ezaenda- tion volbrjfete/ kelte/ontvelte (1069f.) substituted by both Sehroeder and Pretzel for the MS* reading kalte/entwalte * or the Neuter Plural elllu (118, 464, 719, 1484, 1632) substituted by Pretzel for the form alio which is used consistently by the scribe*1 Yet although neither of these features affords any conclusive evidence aa to the home of the poem, there are other aspects of the rhymes which point rather more une­ quivocally in one specific direction. For instance, it is clear that the original text con­ tracted ege to ei (rhyming with itself in treit/^eleit 1117f* and with historical ei in geleit/breit 781f• and kleit/relelt l689f•), but retained age uncontracted (probably in maget/geaa/TCt 1363f§ and certainly in saget/taget I601f*)* This was a peculiarly Middle German characteristic, the p Alemannio poets contracting all three forms alike* No less indisputably Middle German is the type gal/salt for the standard sol/solt. guaranteed by such rhymes as gewalt/ 1* ychroeder emends to alliu throughout* 2. See J. Zwierzina, "Mittolhochdoutsohe atudien" (ZfdA.. 44, 1900), pp* 34«f* MiohelB, op. clt*. §170, H* Paul — Tj.B. Schmitt, Kittelhochdoutschc 0rmmnatik (15th. odn,, Hall* 1950) m s . salt (1299f•)$ misseval/sal (1317f.)t nahtlgal/sal (1713**)•* A further Middle German trait of a slightly more controver­ sial nature is the tendency, attested by the rhyme-forms, for ouw, ftw and iuw to fall together in the single sound- group ouw, A rhyme such as ▼erhouwen/frouwen (1559f*) ia quite regular, since in both words the ouw is historically correct; but rhymes such as genouwen/ge t r ouwen (1235f*)t or getrouwen/gerouwen (14 11f«) would be impossible except on Middle German territory, since two of these verbs (niuwen. riuwen) would normally have iuw in the Past Participle, while the remaining one (trttwen) would have dw# In one passage the interpretation of the text depends on the accept­ ance or rejection of these dialect forms; Moris* protest to the countessl deist ein sch&ch / den ich vil dicke schouwe*/ mines heiles frouwe (564ff#) gives a much better sense if schouwe is taken as a regional form for schiuwe rather than being derived from the verb schouwen (» NHG achauen)» The genuineness of these ouw forms appears to be vouched for by the MS* spellings >?ena$en« geraSen. getraSen or getrawea* 532 1* The scribe has only retained the original spellings in rhyming position; both Schroeder and Pretzel restore them wherever they occur in the body of the text, as in 428, 555• 1780* But the rhyme-pair sol/wol (I671f#) suggests that the poet was also familiar with the more normal conjugation of this verb* and similar Instances could be cited from many other Kiddle One or two morphological details* ouch as the weak declension of mftre In 25, 961 and 1702* and of wtaanden In 59 beside the strong font wfrrant In 1621* also suggest* thourh they do not prove* Middle German Influenoe* and the fora masaer (rhyming with wasaer In 791f.) argues the same conclusion* The orthography of the MS* reweals another group of Middle German traits* entirely consistent with those just mentioned, whioh* ae they do not occur In rhyming position* cannot be assisted with certainty to tho original poem* but whioh must at least have figured In the lncnedlate source from which our text was copied* There are* for example* the broken forms aoheraaaro (450) and schef (C27, 632* 636, 1 . In the same way Kretsel proposes rouwen/trouwen In 1515f*, where ichroeder following the lead of the MS* reading ne retains tne mutation ie*g* seatreuwet u r n ana ssne- t la e s d is c a rd 8 i t (e *g * drou-„on/ vrouwaa 4 5 9 f« ), whereas achroeder In v a r ia b ly p re fe rs th e mutated foam (g o s tro uw o t. c-reuwen. o z lre uw ga ). 2* Ttemnh all these forms are oenflreed by the MS* sad retalmsd by Schroeder, Pretsel eliminates eaeh of them even et the cost of drastic emendation* For the rhyme-pair v;anser/ .msaer. see the review by H* Menhardt of Pretsel'o Wditlcn of tho text In t’JJ* 781, 1956, pp. 474f** where a reference is given to tho kTTq iigucheB >.ortprbucji V, 1941, 933* German monuments such as the Knolde*1 594 640, 651, etc*).1 There are also several scribal errors only explicable on the grounds that the copyist had before him the Middle German ir and in for standard MHG. er and en, or the Middle German i for e in final inflexional syllables* Thus he writes lrr gee for ergd (337), jr frewen for erfreuwen (460), hieynn 1st for hie enlat (688), Jn wl^t for onvlata (1589)* In 1237 he has misread lntwenken as nitwenckeni in 1299 he has misread in rain as minin, which he has then modern­ ized to roelnem. Again, four times (2, 33, 1042, 1365) he has substituted auch for the Dative pronoun of the second person plural iu; this must mean that in his source iu appeared as ouch or possibly dch, a form characteristic of Middle German both in the quality of the vowel (ou, tt, for iu) and in the confusion between tho Accusative and Dative 2inflexions. Nevertheless, side by side vith these more northerly features, there are others markedly Upper German in character. The spelling true ken for t roc ken in 684, though Upper German in origin, occurs sporadically in Franconian monuments from the Old High German period onwards and proves nothing either way.J But the form §&9 confirmed three times by the rhyme 1. The soribe substitutes the standard schif in 643, 669, 675, etc. 2. See Michels, o p . cit., 8225, note 3» and Paul-Schmitt, op. cit.. 8146, note 5. 3. See T. Fringe, i£B, 59, 1935, pp# 455ff. Soo dft in 649f*» 1567f., 1700f. ia definitely Alemannio, in con­ tradistinction to the Middle German (and Bavarian) oto. cog­ nate with English aoon.1 By far the moat striking Alemannio element in the text is the modification of final § to ^ in such rhyrae-pairs as be/aan/beouan (7f.), quan/man (135f•, 179f279f•), auan/echlfman (741f.), schifnan/auan (919f.), nleaan/auan (795f.)» began/bequan (in the MS. 903f., in Schroeder’s edition 399f.)» man/vernan (1259f.), vam/am (231f., 573f.» 615f., 1777f.). ruon/vertuon (721f.J, CraOa/ rfln (025f.), and perhaps nan/kan (1499f.), where it ie im­ possible to teU from the context whether kan is the Preterite tense of feunnan or komen. The orthography of the MS. ie not entirely consistent. In the irregular rhymes the scribe retains the dialect -n everywhere exoept in kom/aan (179f«), fam/Arm (231f*), rum/tun (721f.), and oan/vernam (1259f He also normalises the forms in regular rhymes such as kam/ nam (1005f.), kea/vernam (1515f.). Similarly he writes Orafin/rafin in B25f. but kafta/ra&i la 897f. within the Tinea he writes nam (976, 979, 981, etc.), and kam (238, 983, 1255 1418, 1474, etc.), kom (970) or kum (1414),2 but never uses the g-spelllng.^ 1. See Michels, o;>. clt.. 8224, 2. . 2* Sehroeder and Pretzel also keep the normalised spelling within the lines. 3. Some further linguistic minutiae arising out of ths rhymes in our text are discussed by J. Zwlerzlna in his second (oont./overleaf) Thug the evidence of the rhymes, blurred and incomplete i ,1 V - ’ • . -■ .* ' as it is 9 suggests that the poem was composed in some part of the frontier region between Upper and Middle Gherman. And though we can rarely be certain about the precise local­ isation of any given dialect variant in Middle High Grman, there is only one area where all the phenomena mentioned above could appear in close proximity to each other, and that is the common meeting-ground between Low or Rhenish Alemannic and Rhenish Franconian* A similar diversity marks the poetfs choice of words. In more than one respect his vocabulary departs from the usual conventions of chivalric literature. For instance he has not scrupled to employ expressions whioh were nor­ mally frowned on by courtly writers. We have already had occasion to comment on his use of words from the old warlike diction of the heroic epic, ouch as wl/aint or baldea elleni but he also introduces genuinely "popular" words, such as drftte (151t 822, 1527, 1623)$ & favourite adverb in the Splelraannaepos« or genouwen (1235) # a colloquialism drawn (F/note 3 cont.prev.page) article on "Mittolhochdeutoche Studien” (ZfdA. 45 * 1901, pp. 22f., 40, 43f*, 61, 67ft, 73 , 78, 81^517.) but they are not discussed here as they add nothing to the main argument# 637 from peasant life,1 and gellan (243), a term of evon more 2 decidedly inelegant connotation* Moreover he is - con­ sidering the nature and provenance of his theme - surprisingly sparine in hie use of vords of Romance origin; those that do occur are# with the exception of turnieren (275» 279), all substantives, and with the possible exception of garztin (622, 1041), and pris (19, 282, 286, 1018), all technical terms of knightly culture for which there was no convenient native equivalent, such as turnei (598, 623, 929, 978), juste (1013), mmeiz (898), banlere (714), covertlure (702), lendenier (838), wambes (1069, 1557), colter (782, 1135), aamtt (945), zend&l (784, 961), tabftre (862), flolte (863), bustine (867)* But the most interesting and revealing group of words are those of a regional character, and here too we find an Identical combination of Franconian and Alemannic elements* is most commonly found in works of the fabliau type g. Von deta ttbel.en wtb«, «d, g. dchroeder, ^Tpsig 1913, , 3*6, 340, etc*), or the coarser Dietrich epics (e.g. Poltamann, Heidelberg 186* 2* It carried overtones either of contempt, as in Herbort von Frltzlar's hlei; von Troye 16359* where *he women of Troy are being divided as spoils among the victorious Greeks, or of satirical humour, as in Heinrich der Gllchesaere's .ceinhart Fuchs (ed* G* Baesecke, Altdt* Textbibliothek, Halle 1925) 57f •, where the hen Finte vldch bl cine swellen/ mit and era Iren pellen. For example, kref (162), confirmed by the rhyme bete. la a specifically Middle German variant, which standa In the same Ablaut relationship to the Upper German krote aa the German Brett to the Kngliah board. Though occasionally attested In Lower Khenish sources, it is defined in Grimm's Deutsches wdrterbuch as being besonders mittelrheinlsch.1 ^ jk ./ Other forms confined to Middle German are send At (961), used in rhyming position side by side vith the standard word zend&l (764), and pflihte (968), a technical term of shlp«-building with cognates in Low German, Dutch and Old English e A link between Franconian and Alemanaic is provi­ ded by karrich (659), which both the Deutsches WOrterbuoh and Lexer's Klttelhochdeutsches HandwOrterbuch describe ae indigenous to the Middle and Upper Rhineland, Two further provincialisms point more decisively to Rhenish Alemannie territory, though neither is unknown in the southern areas of Franconian# Sohluwer (806) extended sporadically into % the Middle Germany even during the Old High German period, 1# Various references from Middle German writings are listed by A# Schirokauer, "Studien sur mhd# Reimgramaatik" (Rffi, 47, 1923# p. 61). 2# dee dchroeder, ZfdA. 38, 1894, p# 101# The form cynd&t occurs in the so-called Strassburger Alexander, a text of Rhenish Franconian provenance (ed# Kinzel, Halle 1884)# 6530# 3. K. V. Bahdar, ilLflMT. X ^ ^ e^ .<^.?.^.achen Jchrlfts,.rache (Haidalbcrg 1925) p» 11, itateo "anderer- aalta let acneuer dem Mittaldautschan keineavega fremd". (coat,/overleaf) 639 but it ie in the first instance Aleroannic, and doheuer is still the most widespread form in the south-west of Germany beside acheune in the north and dtadel in the south and south­ east* Similarly bUhel (855), now widely current in the south and south-east,1 was during the Middle Ages most common in the south-west, whence like schiuwer it spread northwards, scattered examples of it occurring in Franconian sources from 2 Old High German onwards* The geographical distribution of isolated words in the text is a much less satisfactory starting-point for deductions than the grammatical or phonological data supplied by the rhymes, but its corroborative testimony cannot be disregarded* Arguing from both types of evidence, and especially perhaps from doublet forms like gend^l/gend&t* wigant/wiganden* sol/sal* we can therefore confidently assign Moris von Crate (F/note 3 cont*prev*page) It is found four times in the Old High German 'atlan (ed* B* Slevers, Paderbora 1892)t 13# 24t 72, Sj 38, 2t 105, 2, and onoe in Otfrids riyanreellenbuoh (ed* 0* Srdnann, Halle 1882) i II, 14, 108* Both of s:!iose texts are Fran­ conian in provenance* 1* dee W* Mitzka, ngutsoner *'ortatlas IV (Giessen 1955)# under "Httgel"* 2* K*V* Bahder, op* olt** p* 28t "ursprttaglieh 1st (btlhel) aber dem Mitteld eutschen keineswegs unbekanntN* Yt occurs in Otfrids ijvarvTOIie a?uch, IV, 14, 108, and in the Bast Franconian paraphrase of the dong of Songe by Vllllram, Cap* 2, 8* 340 to tho northernrooat area of Aleaaanie, aay, orth Alaaee, or the aouthemnoat area of Praneenlan, aay, the shenleh Palatinate, with the toala oe tipped if anything slightly in favour of the latter. On this point the critics of the text are in general agreement, 'laupt, one of the earliest, defines it aa "aleraanniaoh",* a . U. :layer aa "rheinfrfinkiaeh0,8 Ochwieter- tng as "aftlrheinfr&nklsoh”,3 de Boor aa "rhoinpfttlsloob", ialbach aa "in der Pfala",8 Khrienwnn speoifleat nn8rdlloh» ea Elaaaa Oder reohts- hew. linfcarheinleche PfalB“j0 Beeh maintaines "die angegebenen, dam Mitteldeutschen verwandten Opraehformen, aowie die vertraute aefcanntaohaft mit Balnrioh von Veldeke, laaaen vemutan, dass der Diehtor aa Rhein und awar in der :;8he dee raitteldoutaehen Spraahgebletea seine Tt Heimat hatte"j Sehroeder* auras the matter up thuai "zwiachen 1. In the Introduction to hie edition of the poem in the asi&afttm .fitfc, ,Qmiarc usbil(Berlin isti). 8. In the M U .. 39, 1896, p. 318. 4. Up. clt.. p. 145. 8. In the section "Epik dea Mttolaltcrs" from 3tanrler'a la Aufrlaa II (Berlin 1954), ool. 6. On. olt.. II, 2, 1, p. 1871 7, Germnia 17, p* 175. 541 Strassburg und Worms, diesseits Oder jenselts dee Rheins, wird man die Heimat des Dichtera au suchen haben" •1 This location fits In admirably with everything else that we have been able to discover about the author of the poem; his familiarity with Rhenish places and customs; his access to French ehivalric traditions; his intimate knowledge, hinting at first-hand experience, of French ohivalrio life and above all of the spectacular tournaments that flourished just across the border from his own native region; his close dependence on literary genres that were cultivated mainly in the north-east of France, like the courtly conte and the roman d^ventures even his use of popular motifs that still survive in folk-song and folk-lore along the eastern marches of France * But the consistency of the picture also leads us to conclude that the textual transmission of the poem has under- one very little disturbance between the archetype and the source from which our extant MS* was copied* It is commonly supposed that the contents of the Ambraser Heldenbuch were for the most part derived from a single colleotion of works , 1* Introduction to the 1913 edition, p* 7* 548 the so-called "Heldenbuch an der JStsch".1 However, the peeuliar combination of linguistic features which we have shown to be characteristic of Moriz von Crafln does not occur o elsewhere in the Ambraser codex, and most critics assume that it was copied from a separate MS., comparatively early in date^ and very close to the dialect of the original.^ If this assumption is correct, it offers yet further con­ firmation of the fact that Morlz von CraOn* for all its % charm and moral fervour, made little impact on the wider public of its day and that,even in the province where it was written, it enjoyed no more than a brief popularity. 1. See 0. lingerie, "Das Heldenbuoh an der Btsch” (Zf&A. 27, 1883, pp. 136ff.)« More recently the whole question has been re-opened by a. Leitzmarm in his article "Die Am- brasor Krecdberlieferung" (PBB. 59, 1935» pp# 143ff#, especially pp. 149ff#)# 2. Schroeder, Introduction to the 1913 edition, p.5# See also F.O. Kumraer, "Strickers Frauenlob" (ZfdA. 25, 1881, pp. 290ff.) and H. Schmidt. "Nlbelungenhandschrift 0" (ZfdA. 54, 1913, PP# 88ff.). 3. Schroeder, loc. oit.. pp. 6f. points out various details whioh show that the souroe from which our text was copied could not have been later than the thirteenth century. Thus the scribe1 a misreading of ze Vlander (657) as Hftulannder is incomprehensible unless the source retained both the early h-llke fox® of z , and the no less archaic habit of attaching the preposition proclitleaULy to the noun; this latter usage also explains why the scribe twice writes mir for in ir (225, 1170); and the fact that he writes serieten C&23) for achrtten proves that in his souroe initial sc had not yet become sch. 4. Schroeder, loo, cit. p.7. Chapter Six CONCLUSION «M Moat ourioua of all, for the student of social foroes in literature, are the many works in which a dual aspiration can be traced* Thus the Pil^riua^e of Charlemagne, an epic as early as the Roland and full of burlesq\ji ei«nent8| thus the Janus-^ike Romance of the Rosei thus Lo Jahan de aalntre. a manual of knightly demeanour which turns into a broad fabliau ,,,1 To this list of Janus-like works might well be added Moris von Cratin. whose ambiguity differs from theirs only in so far as it presents to the spectator not two aspects but four. First of all, there is the lost French source of the poem. Much inevitably must remain surmise, yet up to a point it is possible to reconstruct its essential outlines 1. A. L. Ouerard, grawh clylllsatlQOt from lta origins P P J A ? 3 (Txmdon 1920), p. 275. by inferences drawn from tbe two extant versions that flank it9 as it were, on both aides at opposite extremes - the German redaction and the Frenoh fabliau* When we try to bring it into focus with he chevalier aul recovra l,ainor de aa dame certain dissimilarities at onoe become apparent* The fabliau offers yet another instance of the conventional triangle of unfaithful wife9 hoodwinked husband and wily resourceful gallant, distinguished from countless other medieval variations on this well-worn theme only by its aristocratic milieu and its reliance for effect on a spice of wit rather than simple bawdiness* The three- cornered nature of the intri-ue is emphasised by the way in which the husband is worsted twice over - and each time in the presence of his wife - by the lover9 his initial overthrow on the tilting-field anticipating with light­ hearted symbolism his discomfiture in the bedchamber* It also9 at least ostensibly9 acknowledges the ascendency of the lady in matters of the heart 9 since the blame for the temporary estrangement between the lovers is placed un­ equivocally on the shoulders of the man9 and since a recon­ ciliation between them only becomes possible when he shows a proper degree of penitence and submission* But this notion is not taken sufficiently seriously to be dignified by the name of an "Idea'S still less that of a "message"* The author Is quite untroubled by moral issues f for him courtly love is a comedy a trois* and honour, in so far as he takes cognisance of it, merely an affair of practical expediency* His sole aim is to present a neatly-turned and diverting anecdote in an easy, lively, unpretentious manner* We may guess that the lost French souroe of Morlz von Crafln differed from the fabliau on fill three counts* In the first place, the interest seems to have been concentrated exclusively on the clash between the lovers, the rdle of the husband being altogether subordinate. If the German text ie a true guide on this point, as appears likely, ths two rivals for the lady's favour were never made to meet at all in the tournament, and even in the bedroom scene the count was little more than a necessary pawn in the action* The remaining member of the quartet of dramatis personae, the waiting-woman, must also have been very lightly sketched in along typical rather than individual lines• ** In the second place the source must have reversed the share of 1* We have already seen (in the closing section of Chapter II) that the German poet was in all likelihood responsible for the sympathetic development of her character. 546 opprobrium metod out to each of the two protagonists* It was the lady who, by her pride, her harshness and her abuse of her suzerainty over the knight, was exposed to humiliation and loss, while he - at any rate in the eyes of the world - emerged with honour untarnished. In the third place it must have differed from the fabliau by virtue of its greater psychological depth and finesse, qualities which presuppose in the writer a serious concern for the principles of ehival- ric excellence, and especially for that of courtly love, which was conceived of not as a conventional pose or a one­ sided servitude, but as a voluntary bond between two equal partners. The result must have been a miniature drama of human passion which in spite of the piquancy inherent in the triangle situation was on the whole nearer to tragedy than comedy* It is also likely that the writer already took into account those broader social implications which are so strongly marked in Moris yon Crjrftel that is, the actors in the drama did not, as in the fabliau* play out their parts on a little private stage of their own, but were approved or censured in proportion as they conformed to certain ex­ ternal patterns of conduct or misconduct. The exact relationship of these two very divergent treatments of a single theme is quite impossible to determine. It Is moat unlikely that there la any direct connexion between them in the eenae that either one of them ia im­ mediately derived from the other* We must assume that the tale waa one of the many in common circulation at the time - though how and when it became current we have no means of knowing - and that it was taken up independently by two very different men, each of whom gave it hl8 own distinctive blast the one joyously unproblematic and un- edifying, the other more elevated, more subtle and in the true sense of the word more sentimental• Kven when we try to establish the relative chronology of the two versions we are on very uncertain ground* The fabliau may represent an earlier cruder form of the story with the characters still anonymous types rather than named individuals, and with the latent potentialities of the material at ill unexplored* In which case the source of Morlg von CraQii would represent an expansion and refinement of this more primitive type* Alternatively the fabliau may offer a simplified and coarsened version of the theme, stripped both of its deeper meaning and of its association with historical personages, and reduced to the level of a casual anonymous anecdote* This latter theory may perhaps be rather nearer the truth than the other* The fabliau* in so far as it is possible to date it9 appears to belong rather later in the thirteenth century than would be poe- aible for the source of our poem* And in addition it does occasionally give the impression of having been clipped down from a more elaborate tradition; the narrative is here and there rather awkwardly compressed and the motivation is not always clear* When we try to place the source of Moris von Cratin in its wider context of medieval French literature we are still compelled to work in terma of speculation rather than proof* None the less, it is possible to venture a little way along the perilous road of conjecture* The poem may perhaps have belonged to that rather in­ determinate group of pontes or aristocratic fabliaux like M chftin»<» or c.uirU}fflP__au £aucqa or L*> Valr Palefroit more probably it was cast in the form of th* rpaftn dj. moeura or roaan d.^Yenture Uk* te ChAtalfJa, dj Couoy or Guillaume de Ddle* only on a rather smaller seale than the average representative of this genre* It must at* # any rate have possessed several of the most characteristic features of the roman de moeursi the background of contemporary social life, the realism of subjeot-matter and treatment, the trick of using historical personages to animate a fictitious narrative, the enthusiasm for tournaments, ths provenanoe from the eastern or north-eastern borders of France, the limited appeal to the publio of the time and hence the precarious M3* transmission* Whether it made any perceptible impact on the literature of its day we cannot tell; no direct reference to it has so far been traced in any contemporary document* The myster­ ious hints about Mthe Lady of Beaumont" in Flamenoa may possibly contain an obscure allusion to the heroine of our poem* But one work does exist which shows such numerous and striking parallels to Horiz von Crafln as to make the theory of some kind of connexion between the two appear not unreasonable* It has already been pointed out^ that three times in Antoine de la Bale's Le Petit Jehan de daintre the names of Craon and Beaumont are introduced in close conjunction with each other* There is another still more signifleant link* Whether "La Dame des Belles Cousines" is in fact Marie de Clives or no may be open to dispute, but there is no doubt whatever about the Identity of la Bale's hero, and in one of the earliest studies of the text we learn something of him* "Jean de SaintrB * * Chevalier, Seneschal d'Anjou et 1* See above, p* 96* du Maine, Joignit a l^utorite do cette charge cello do Lieutenant du Sire de Craonf l*an 1355» et commandoit 30 hoiaiaeg dfarmes sous lui; en cette mime annee le mdme Sire de Craon, Pierre de Craon Sire de la Suae, Guillaume de Craon Vicomte de Chateaudun9 ot lui (e’est-a-dire aintre) firent une entreprise"*^ (follows an account of a common expedition against a certain Olivier de Clisaon who was prominent among the Breton rebels). Again in the same study we hear of "une quittance dattee de 1355 de Jean de Saintrtf, Seneschal d*Anjou et du Maine9 de 450 livres sur sea gages et de 30 hommes d’armea de sa Corapaignie sous Amaury Sirs de Craon9 Lieutenant du Hoy ea parties dfAnJou et du rtaine".^ This connexion between the two worses in the matter of their titular heroes is reinforced by an impressive similarity between their respective themes. In each case the knight places himself unconditionally at the service of the lady in hopes of reward, for celul oul aert et ne persert son lover pert; in each case the lady, after a certain amount of rather heartless teasing and coquetry, commissions the knight to undertake tournaments in her honour, promising him her favours 1. T. 3. Gueulette. Le Petit Jehan de Saintre (Paris 1724). Pref&ge, P. BiiJ, 2 . ibid* Five pages further on in the rrefaof .(the pages are not systematically numbered)• 551 in return and sealing the bargain with a ring and a kiss; in each case the knight distinguishes himself victoriously in the joust and is fdted and admired on all sides, while the lady basks in his renown; in each case the knight is guilty of a small fault which springs indirectly from his pursuit of honour; in each case the lady, presuming too much on her power over her lover, retaliates with a much graver fault, involving open disloyalty, and in each case her demesure overreaches itself and leads to her downfall; for in each case she is repudiated by the hero - "adieu, la plus faulce dame qul onques futi" - and put to shame, while the knight advances to further honours* No less remarkable is the likeness in structure and mood between Le Petit Johan de Salntnf* "ce Telemaque qui se terrains en fabliau" as one critic has oalled it, and Moriz von Crafln* even making due allowance for the extent to which these aspects of the tert may have been transformed by the German poet. Both begin in a leisurely diffuse manner, with the emphasis on description, dialogue and ab­ stract reflection or moralizing; in both the pace quickens steadily as the action moves towards the climax, and both conclude with scenes of tragi-coroedy as spirited and dramatic aa though they had been written with an eye to stage presenta­ tion, Both works, again, seem to be oddly poised between 558 two opposing worlds of thought, and in consequence both h&vs about them the same ambiguous quality, half dedicated seal, half ironie detachment, as though the writer was not quite sure where he stood or what he was aiming at. >ach, in a word, has the fascination on the enigmatic and in each the enigma posed is fundamentally the same. This sense of kinship between the two works, despite the differenoe in date, is too strong to be ignored. Proof is naturally out of the question, but it is tempting to speculate whether Antoine de la Sale did not know, and make ' use of, the lost souroe of Moriz von Crate when composing his masterpiece. When we come to attempt a definition of the relationship between the French poem on which /.oris von Crafln was based and the German text itself we have in the main only to sum­ marise arguments already set forth and conclusions already drawn in the earlier chapters of this study. We can assume that the source must have contained the gist of the plot as presented in the German redaction from the first inter­ view of the lovers to the final regrets of the lady, and that it certainly, for reasons whioh still remain obscure, identified the two leading figures with historical personages of the same, or the immediately preceding, generation. 503 We can also assume that Moriz von Cratin owes to its Frenoh source those numerous vivid touches of description that constitute one of the main charms of the work. Many of them have already been mentioned t topol so essentially French that they have passed into the heritage of Frenoh popular tradition and folk-songf like the splendid ship of the bridal quest 9 the girl rising early in the morning9 the garden of low*; other motifs9 slighter but equally character­ istic, like the countess at her window leaning her cheek on her hand "as women orossed in love are wont to do"9 the tears of the waltlng-woman splashing down on to the sleeves of her gown, the blossoming eglantine9 the bezant against which the hero weighs his love-longing* The list could be prolonged almost indefinitely s the lamp burning in the bed- 1 9chamber, the painted bower, the flowers and herbs strewn on the floor, even the way In which Moris opens the doort An die t:flr er aSre dru-^ te / uf hOher er sie rukte. / nod 1* Cf, Le Chevcl ior qul recovra 1 *a-or de aa dano 190f.t -ne Inmp.e avoit en la chanbre 7 1 ar. costume, ardolr ,1 2. Cf. Oulffewar 2231 chambre err peinte tut en iur: Le Chdtelain de Coucy 433« Kn la aallo qui fu blen paints. ' &S ^ j s a & 7135. Is" tonfnol de Chauvsnoy A C T . . s 3. Cf. Horn C 2710f.i flurj Gull MA .log / diu .verses 504 leno vaste dr&te / in die jcenen&te (1525ff. J.1 It would be idle to pretend that these graphic impressions of choses vues are never found in Germany* Yet if we want to see them used with most freedom, most sureness of touch and most telling effect, it is to the French rather than the German romances that ve must go* Trifling as they may be, they are like those tiny expressive strokes of the artist's pencil which, taken singly, seem so commonplace, but which collectively create a style that ia unmistakable. Along with this faithful observation of daily life goes a realism of aotlon and situations the conduct of the hero at the tournament, accurately recorded down to the very order in which he dons the several pieces of his armour; the angry countess turning over in bed and pretending to be asleep as the waitlng-woman pleads with her for the knight: the horror of the count at the sight of his supposedly supernatural visitant; the vaiting~woman trying to steal away unnoticed out of pity for her 'distress whose lamentations she has hy chance overheard; all these and many other similarly truthful 1. Cf. qulllaumq- au faucon I69t II bout*. l'uls en lacl^bra -ntre, and the many similar examples quoted in Tobler- LocSiatach, UtfrangQslach.s WQrterbuch. On tha surface the phrase coulH hardly sound more trite and obvious, but in fact boater is as much a stock expression in French romance as tirlin at the pin is in Soots balladry* piimpses of perennial human behaviour give to the poem a freshness and Immediacy hard to match in medieval German literature, even in works of far greater literary preten­ sions, but apparent on almost every page of the roman de rooeurs* As an example of the story-teller#s art the source of our poem must have been worthy of the stylistic traditions from which it sprang* And still, from the standpoint of sheer narrative technique, the most successful passages in the text as we possess it are those where the German poet has adhered closest to his original* Two final questions remain to be considered* Firstly, was the streak of ridicule or satire which we have earlier had occasion to observe in certain episodes of the text al­ ready present in the French source? It is impossible to be categorical on the point, and the French literature of the Middle Ages does in fact contain many brilliant examples of parody, ineluding skits on chivalric prowess and chivalric love, but on the whole it seems more likely that this is one of the traits contributed by the German poet* As far as ws can tell neither the courtly fabliau nor the roman de moeurs was normally used as a vehicle for burlesque, being more coneemed to portray knightly life than to lampoon it, and in this particular instance also the French poet, though he 566 may here and there hare indulged a vein of light mockery now no longer distinguishable from the heavier irony of his German successorf seems to have taken his material quite straightforwardly at its face value* Secondly, was the French poem intended to point a moral or convey a message? It may well be that the poet, in com­ mon with every serious author of his day, felt that ths business of poetry was to afford profit as well sub pleasure, that he tried to give his work a weight and meaning beyond that of simple entertainment, that his aim was to stimulate rather than divert the minds of his audience* We must also assume that he was consciously expounding a problem case in the sphere of courtly love* But he does not appear to have done so in any openly didactic spirit* The story seems to have been presented for ite own interest, possibly even as a starting-point for graceful or witty debate among the hearers, rather than as an admonition or a warning* The primary aim of the German poet, on the other hand, is indisputably to instruct and edify; in other words, his version is not only a casus* but an exemplum* a bis pel. The underlying thought, that a disregard for the code of honour brings its own nemesis with it, is traoed out first through the whole panorama of history and finally demonstrated by means of an instance drawn from contemporary life* In his •yes this conception of guilt and retribution has the foree of a moral lav, and its proclaiming ie a matter of such urgency to him that he cannot refrain from interposing hie ovn voice to pass subjective judgement on his characters quite apart from the verdict implicit in the events ho is relating. Hie GeeelXachaftepadagogiic. as it has been aptly termed, finds utterance in a steady flow of reflections, personal avowals, exhortations, moral tirades and social criticism. For him this aspect of his thems seems rathsr to overshadow the actual fable* His lingering side—glances at other topics, such aa that of Troy, suggest that he was not wholly absorbed in his material* Nor does he give the impression of being really interested in ths craft of story­ telling as such* In the most undiluted narrative portions of the tale he is content to follow his source and let ths action carry itself along under its own momentum* In ths same way, although he cares passionately for the ideas which his hero and heroine embody, he does not seem to be at all deeply affected by their fate as human beings, and remains curiously aloof from them* His sense of composition, too, though by no means lacking - for as we have seen the structure of the poem has been oarefully planned - is not that of the bora narrator but that of the homilist* Words applied by one critic to the author of Meier Helzabrecht could with equal truth be said of our poets "Bass er kein auegeeprochener Bpiker war, seigt aloh darin?wie er naoh der vielgliedrigen Breite des Kingangs und der Gespr&che • #• das Werk in raschem Gangs au Knde ftthrt"#1 If ve admit then that for him the story was less im­ portant in its own right than as a means to an end, the ques­ tion immediately springs to the minds what end? It is hex*# that the duality of his approach becomes most palpable# The more closely we try to analyse his standpoint the more it becomes clear that he is being pulled in two different directions at onoe# And since, whoever he was, he must have been a man of strong individual likes and dislikes, unusually free from the lead ing-strings of fashionable opinion, and wrestling as honestly with his ideas as he wrestles with the refractory medium of rhymed verse, this division within his own mind is quite exceptionally revealing# In effect It ia the same division which, aa we saw in an earlier chapter of this study, runs through the whole of chlvalric culture - the painful and ineluctable cleavage between vision and reality, dream and fact# There ia no doubt that the ideals of chivalry command his unqualified assent# His thoughts constantly revert to 1# 3# Gutenbrunner, ZfdA. 85, 1954-55, P* 65# the subject of honourf the varying shades of meaning which the word can bear and the different manifestations of the one principle in past time and present time, in men and women, in isolated individuals and in the community of nation or class* Furthermore, he begins his story by dwelling on the twofold honour of Inward virtue and outward reputation vouchsafed to hia hero (2Q2ff*, 400f*), and on the no less conspicuous worth of the lady (266ff»), thus, so it might appear, setting the stage for a model exposition of all that dre implied* Sven more fervent is his belief in the prin­ ciple of mlnne. which he exalts to the loftiest heights that his wholly profane outlook admits* He probes eagerly into the mysteries of love, its power over creation and its workings in the human heart, its rights and duties, its potency as an inspiration within ths lover and within society as a whole*1 And again, at the outset, he makes his hero appear as a paragon of the courtly lover, and his heroine as a Minnedame no more hard-hearted than convention demanded of her, so that we might be pardoned for expecting the action 1* This intimate concern with the nature and psychology of courtly love ia perhaps the main reason why our poet ap­ pears so much closer in spirit to, and so much more de­ pendent on, rUnnesary; and theoretical analyses of love like Hartmann's Buckle in than the world of ehivalric romance where his affinities might at first glance be thought to lie* to unfold in accordance vith the normal patterns of Mlnnedienst* In addition* he sees the twin forces of love and honour aa operating in harmony to produce a series of secondary but equally praiseworthy ideals t a freedom from self-interest and material considerations* a generosity that counts no price too hi/£i for the object of its quest* a capacity for endurance that welcomes hardship and sacrifice in a noble cause* an energy that strains itself to the utmost to reach its goal* These are the matters that engage the poet9a deepest interest and his presentation of them* though inevitably coloured by the thought and language of the time* bears the unmistakable stamp of personal oonvictlon* All those parts of the text where they bulk largest - the historical in­ troduction * the discourse on love* the herofs soliloquy* the dialogues between the countess and the knight* or the countess and the vaiting-woman* the final monologues of the countess - are the ones which* as we have seen* the German poet made peculiarly his own; and all of them* it will be noted* are cast in the form of spoken argument or abstract disquisition rather than epic narrative* But he is not writing a moral treatise* he is writing a Nova H e . and the moment his theme compels him to descend SOI from theory to application, from ideal postulates to people and events, the note of affirmation becomes less pronounced • He has to take up a standpoint on the shifting ground of actual experience rather than the firm basis of unassailable precept, and his footing is plainly a little insecure* The admiration is still there, but it is tempered with a certain reluctance and curiously mixed vith other reactions that oscillate between misgiving, disapproval and ridicule*^ What the precise source of this hesitation may be we cannot tell for certain* It has evidently nothing to do with religious or ecclesiastical scruples, for his code of 1* Many traces of a similar ambiguity of approach can be observed in Ulrich9 s Frauendienst. But the phenomenon was by no means new even in the thirteenth century* Gilbert Murray in his study Aristophanes (Oxford 1933) uses words that might, mutatTs mu tanalaT apply equally well to our poet, when he writes on p * 107t "It is dif­ ficult for u b and would have been difficult for Aristo­ phanes himself, to aay exactly what his feelings were towards Kurlpldes and his poetry* He certainly was fas­ cinated by it* It haunted his memory and imagination and he parodied it with a charm and skill which prove his enjoyment and understanding* At the same time he almost certainly disapproved of it, or at least felt of­ ficially bound to disapprove of it", and again on p*179t "Indeed Iysistrata herself, like the whole play, illus­ trates well that curious divided allegiance in the come- dlan98 mind which we have noticed before* He cannot help admiring the thing he mocks at, or perhaps rather he selects for the object of his laughter the thing that secretly fascinates him*1* 0G2 values ia a purely secular one* It may be tinged with national prejudice of that ambivalent kind ao common in the history of Germany9 which at one and the same time disparages a thing as an example of foreign frivolity and hankers after it as an example of foreign elegance* Or it may simply have been a failure of perception arising from the clash between two different temperaments that made the German poet try to adapt borrowed material to ends for which it was not Inherently suited* But whatever the reasons for the dis­ parity, the effects of it are undeniable* A strange blend of attraction and repulsion seems to pervade his whole attitude towards the people and incidents he describes* It is never quite clear, for instance, how far he really approved of the tournament, in spite of its claims to represent the sum of chlv&lrio aspiration; nor is it clear how far he intended the ghost scene, with the count's ensuing tumble out of bed, bruised shin and pro­ longed swoon, to be taken seriously* That he should see his heroine in a somewhat unfavourable light is natural enough, but not even with the figure of his hero ie he alto­ gether in sympathy* He may extol the idea of valour, but in practice Moris' tourneying exploits can appear now cul­ pable, as whsn he insists on the tournament being continued after a man has been killed, now slightly absurd, as when he unhorses opponents at a quite imposeible rate, or breaks lances on a quite impossible scale. The poet may extol the idea of liberality, but in practice Moris* displays of milte. for all their splendour, are sometimes made to verge on the needlessly and vaingloriously extravagant, as in the aocount of the ship, on the ludicrous, as in the scenes of largesse after the tournament, or even on the socially de­ moralising, as in the description of the rarsdne quarrelling over the debris of the ship. More than anything else the poet extols the idea of love, but the complete breakdown of the bond between the lovere, culminating in the dreadful travesty of their final embrace, shows how fragile even this can prove when exposed to the ohill of heartleaaneeo or the heat of reaentment. From the changing moods of his work we can therefore gain a reasonable amount of Insight into the personality of the poet. But the details of his life and outward circum­ stances continue to elude us. We have not a single shred of external evidence to go on. We cannot give him a name. We may conclude from the original dialect of the pom, in so • far as it is possible to reconstruct it, that he came some­ where from the middle Rhineland, either the Kheniah Palatinate or the moot northerly part of Alsatla. The German place- names and touches of local colour suoh as those in 640f« and 668 also point to the Rhineland, though to territory rather further north than the nAtive regions of the poet* His soelal background and class remain obscure* We can discount at once the possibility that he was a cleric9 though certain features of his style - his use of rhetorical devices such as antithesis (456f*, 498, 1175, 1722), person­ ification (113ff., 366ft;), and stichoinythy (535 t f . ) 9 his parade of rather pedestrian learninhis Ion- set monologues and dialogues in the manner of the dlsputatlo, his slightly pedantic tone - suggest that he may have passed through the schools* It is conceivable, though not on the whole very likely, that he was a townsman from one of the Rhenish cities aomehow the poem does not give the impression of being an urban product, and the spirit of it is squally far removed from the broad anti-chivalric satire of bourgeois farce and the lavish pro-chivalric enthusiasm of middle-class writers like Konrad von WtLrzburg* We are thus forced back on one of two conclusions! either the author was a Rhenish knight, who may possibly have become acquainted with the story on the course of a tourneying expedition across the border into the marches of 1* This, at any rate up till recently, was the view held by Professor R* Kienast. Franco, and whose interest was caught by it for its own sake, or because it seemed to him to exemplify problems of knighthood that were occupying his own thoughts; or he was a dpleliaann. or perhaps a clerk or meister attached to the person of such a knight, from whose hands the work was com­ missioned by his patron. Which of these alternatives is correct we have no means of knowing. dome aspects of the poem, such as the subjectivity of the opinions expressed and the sense of urgent personal concern with the issues at stake, imply that the author is writing under his own voli­ tion; others, such as the lack of full sympathy with the material, the lingering over other more congenial themes, the apology at the end for not having executed the task more worthily, seem to indicate that he was working to order. In the same way, the familiarity with ehivalric life apparent throughout the poem, the free critical outlook, even the occasional amateurish awkwardness of poetic technique, are all consistent with the theory of knightly authorship; while on the other hand the didaotic earnestness, the homely imagery (adta...ein flohluwer 806, ale ein bal 1025, ale ein tOte z achif 1277, ale ein alp 1418), and the use of proverbial tage such as In daz tner ein alac (357), or the adages of the net in 1347f• and of the two thieves in 3 5 Off., recall the humbler style of the professional Spielmann or aoruchdlohter. The whole question goes to show yet once again how illusory are those hard and fast distinctions between knightly and non-knightly writers that once used to be accepted as axiomatic for medieval German literature* When even the productions of an outstanding genius like Walther von der Vogelweide show the mentality of the knight and the mentality of the superior opielmann merging inn perceptibly into one another, so that it is impossible to label him conclusively as a representative of this or that type, it is still more hopeless to try to disentangle the two in the ease of a minor poet like the author of Lastly there remains to be considered the problem of date9 in some ways the most controversial of all9 for with an isolated monument, derived from a lost source and pre­ served in a single late M8«f we have no means of establish­ ing any points of comparison* And ths pussle is made even more baffling by the fact that here, as with every other aspect of the text9 Moriz von Grata seems to be looking in two opposite directions simultaneously* At the very beginning of the present study it was remarked how sharply divided opinion has been on this question, some scholars assigning the work to the last quarter of the twelfth cen­ tury, others placing it well on into the first quarter ot the thirteenth, an unusually wide range ot disagreement when one remembers the extraordinary speed and concentration of literary developments in Germany during the decade on each side of the turn of the century. Those who claim a twelfth-century origin for the poem have much that can be said in support of their view* There ia undoubtedly an archaic flavour about the historical in­ troduction, with its dependence on pre-chivalric works like the AnnoUefl. the Roland ailed, and tha Kalaerchronlk. and its omission of any reference to Arthurian legend. The affinities which we have shown to exist between Morlg von Crafln and the Kneide of Heinrich von Veldeke (the only con­ temporary author whom the poet mentions by name), the lyrios of the first generation of rtinnes&nger. and the early works of Hartmann von Aue, might similarly be taken to indicate that the text belongs to the beginning rather than the end of the peak period of ohivalrio literature in Germany* The lack of stylist le polish, the frequent clumsiness and ob­ scurity of thought and expression, the relatively few Romance loan-words employed and the presence of "unoourtly” words from the vocabulary of the heroio epic are further points that have been adduoed at various times in favour of an early date. Nevertheless the writer is inclined to believe that an even more convincing body of evidence can be assembled on the other side. That our poet should owe no visible debt to the great masterpieces of courtly romance is soarcely surprising in a man who, as we have seen, went very much hie own way and etood essentially apart from the main literary currents of the age. As an experiment in the ^ovelle form9 Moriz von Cratin does not hark back to any pre-chivalric traditions of versa narrativef on the contrary it anticipates the emergence of a genre which was to become increasingly fashionable as the thirteenth century advanced. Its con­ nexions with early rtinnesang are matched by yet more revealing analogies with the work of later Mlnnea a nger like Winli, Hartmann von Starkenberg, Tannhftuser and above all Ulrich von Lichtenstein. The old warlike expressions are offset by phrases from the established jargon of courtly love9 like frouwe ktfnegln (544)9 geselllcltche minne (594)9 kumber doln (1652). There are even hints that courtly love is already on the wane if the poet's strictures against venal love are9 as seems most likely, directed against Nledere Minne. In addition to these ooncrete factors, there is an indefinable atmosphere about the poem that one can only describe as ”p08t~ela8nlo&l”. Its ambiguity, its touch of disillusion, 669 the half-serious half - satirical mood which algjht almost be termed & species of romantic irony I all these are symptoms of a cultural movement that is past its zenith if not yet fallen into decadence* Moreover a twelfth-century date for our text would push the date of the French source corres­ pondingly far back in tlme9 making it nearly as abnormal for its period as Moriz von Crafln itself* We are therefore on all counts probably justified in placing the French source some time during the opening de­ cade of the thirteenth century and the German poem round about 1220-1230f certainly not earlier than Schroeder#8 proposed date of 1215* Yet it is doubtful how far all this contextualism9 though valuable ao preliminary spadework, really penetrates to the heart of the matter* The task of the student of literature may be to ascertain what the author intended his creation to be and do9 and leave it at that* But for the responsive reader the work is a personal dlscovery9 im­ portant in itself quite apart from its original inspiration and purpose* Indeed a knowledge of the writer’s aims is by no means vital to an appreciation of his work* We know nothing about the intentions of Catullus or Villon9 we know a good deal about those of Mallarme or Rilke. I doubt whether thia makes much difference to any permanent valua­ tion of their poetry# In the same way our poem carries implications beyond anything of which the author could be aware» and this9 its significance for the modern reader 9 is the fourth and last "face" of Koriz von C_r*fln» Ad­ mittedly there is a discrepancy between the poetfe object and what from our point of view he has achieved • He in­ tended a sermon, a moral example, a plea for the ideals of honour and courtly love# The sermon miscarried, the mes­ sage went unheard# But what he has done, without meaning to or being conscious of it, is to bequeath to posterity one of its most vivid and enthralling pictures of ohivalrio reality# 571 inli ‘^optfait miniature t i *qra tlio Haneses Codes (fol. 231‘*). S7S tersog lo la r io h von l>r©0lau Portrait minioturo fron the arxoooo (fol. U v) 073 'V Devils ut a touxnianont i Jmiatu-O fi*on IMtfN lasaeiifjaut (iw-itieh t;uoem £JB« a ilt*0 . 'JX.Vj , . . -e JL e 9 iO«* /# ’anoro 074 T B w funerary at ^ " i w V* Proa an engrcrlng in the Victoria and Albert t.uoeuu. 875 SKLiSCTlVB BI.JLIOChlAPilf (It la emphasised that the following list contains only the nrineipal works consulted, i’cr all secondary sources Of i information the reader la referred to the documentation glfa.. In the footnotes to the main body of the test.) I, LIST OP ABiiSSVUXlOm Class»fr,d.n*a. £S&* M * JE* s m . M A . J£* QASF* jeOk* -QLaX _ . -A' a • dlaaoiqueo frangala du raoyon 63c a Ulrich von Lichtenstein'o - . . u. je-: 1, j a VOLt-V.:k*aue, iontaiolon-> .a y icd * o lau-- iroune, Jjjodam a Jartoch, J a ijocidtd dee anclona testes franc ale .Aaatefeft, 676 x z . m ikm Lm Ha, h. P, hsanann, "Hitter Orttfinn zseaaundt’ ltius von :;ran und aa Ton jfiu XX, Berlin 1880, pp, 105-138 Ed, If, inupt, "'Oris £rsB l u n g " ___ Berlin 1871, pp. Sd. E. Ochroeder, Craon Kine altdsutache nsma£> 3rd edn. Berlin 1980; 4th edn, Berlin 1989 Ed, D, Pretael In collaboration with E, Henaahel, E, Elenast, K, Qtaounenn and », lieOhofer, VQr^ CraC; i (Altdeutoche roxtbibllothek, Pretael's edition includes a comprehensive bibliography of all studied, articles, reviews, chapters from histories of i£!0, literature, etc, that deal with the text, To duplicate this here would bo superfluous, but it mi^t be valuable to single out as being of particular interest or importance the following iteraoi- The Introduction fron Ochroedcr'e edition of 1913 tnhagen* nftd. sro ' i m % & mk,&XS&L»,a a, tioao ag , "xrat selves und PranaSeisohee is der i dlahraachrtft II, 1984, pp. j, 8e*-sr1 staring, "Typologleohes in ndttolalterlicher Dichtung" a— Berlin 1988, pp. A, T, Hatto, "Meria vo Craon" I, Pt. 8, 1938, pp. K, 3taolaaann, ^ a k i (Unputolioiou dloo,. von Crttun* 577 The following supplementary items might also be added to the lioti- j • . a* a oh te , * ,p y l8 mi (u np fc - liahed d i i o . a 1947)7 A moenanlcaL ■ register of all the words In the text* omitted by Pretsel as being virtually worthless. The review of 'hetsel's edition by H. ienhardt ■ • (PQB. 7®A, Tflfcingen edr.,, 1956, pp.471ff,) U* Pretsel and S. enoohel, ".vur Textgeetolt dee 'Moris von Craun'■ (PB3, 80, nalle odn,, 1988, pp, 480ff•) the latest contribution of Pretsel and his chief collaborator to this field of study. III, MIDDLE HIGH CaBHIftH LITERATURE [T (For the sake of regularity, the i tan is in tills and the foliowi:i& section arc listed according to the name of the editor rather than that of tho work or the original author,) The references to the worke of Gottfried von atraa*. urg, Hartmann von Aue, Wolfram von Uaohohbaoh, and to the lbaiuuaoiiiled, are token from toe editions in toe piwldea pc^iopa taenost readily aecesoible, if not toe most ooholarly, form of toe text. 578 £d. a* heohetein, Ulrlehe von Lichtenstein (Beuteche Blchtungen dea tilttclaltero, LolpHig 1388, 8 volo.) iid# 0# ehaghcl, . .nclde by Heinrich von Veldoke (Heilb 'Onn 1082) Bd. A# rt and Fr. Vogt) Sd. C. von Kraus, hundortfl.T j» v ^■hfll - Bd. A. Leltonann. a, dee rlitte jaflaw)«i. jtna-s e m i f ) K ( outacho Texte ., Halle 1988) Bd. £. Uartln, Kudin;. (2nd edn., Halle 1908) 579 Ed. n. F. Uaactoann, (iiuedliriburg lo4 \roX3 0 J Ed. f i. sticker t , VBlflgM Tfcpw l'n von Eirclaere (v>ucdilriburg 1858) xv. o l d F m x a uhe Ed. K. Barteoh Ed. P. ChanpiOn - P. Deeonay, Mg *?!£> b y Antoine de la Bale (Parle 1926-2?) Ed. O. A. Crapelet, Bartonopeuo de Blola (Paris 1034) Ed. . Deltoocllle. * retol (Til' Le ttro s de 1938) Z toy » aoquoe Philosophic et Liftgo XLIX, Li&ge Sd. V. Foerater. the Works of Chrftlen de Troyes - 2nd odn.» dalle 1909 edn*. dalle 1901 .9famtiAfty. A - naiie 1899 vui I- 3rd edn., ilalle 1906 Ed. 1>. Foulet. Paris Ed. Pr. Oennrich, (oeae: Dresden 1981. 8 vole. Ed. U. Coldeo '. ddt, in 2tut (Class. fr» d. m. a*. S . t i . •- Lit-jratar 43.OCliG . (Bitol. d. lit. vereina lngen 1899) Ed. A. iteory, M Sstmdu (Paris 1*») Ed. A, lingfors. Laa alpmaona att^bttdou^ayt jal de Craon T logiquede pp. 4Iff.) 1 co de la 3oci6t6 a6o—?hila— Helsingfors VI. Helsingfors 1917. 580 Ed. J. K. ratals* - H. Delbouille, Le Chltelala do Couov (8AIF., Parlo 1956) Ed. A. de uontaiglon - 3* Haynaud. (2nd edn.. Peris 1901) (Blbl. da Ed. P. :.'«yer, Ed. o. Raynaud, noyen Ed. C. Servolo, ( iA.JigMftJIftJUL ..--&gfi) (SATP Ed. K. Hemke. A. Jeanroy, LSfi (nolle 1900) saJBMtfi V . ilKDIEVAL LATItf MTEisATOBE aeoariue van nelste^beeh, (ed. J. Strange, Cologne raoQUos de Vltry. ■;c>:iolu (ed. T. P. Crane. Folk-Lore Sooloty Publication* 26. London 1890) rigne, • so. ,Uu lablnn Thornaa Cautipratenale, rijjaaiAwnffi «. a.lltel, , Boston , 0 vole. L. Brk - F. a . 3