Kaeuper R.W. - Chivalry and violence in medieval europe (1999)(en)

rebellion, and Þnally in saving Rome again, this time from Guy of Germany. As will be apparent, this text, too, speaks with great force to the issues that concern us; it, too, bears witness to the shadows as well as to the light.30 The reality of knightly motivation and action appears clearly, if indirectly, within the interstices of the ideal portraits drawn. The author, we will see, has mixed feelings about actual knightly behaviour as experienced in the world.

He can, for example, describe deeds of prowess with as loving a hand as ever scratched pen on parchment. All serious issues in the story are solved by knightly violence: the initial challenger to LouisÕs kingly right is smashed by a single blow of the Þst (William remembering just in time to sheath his sword and not spill blood in a church); the pagan threat to Rome is stopped in its tracks when William takes on Corsolt, the unbelieving champion, and with a great sword stroke sends the offenderÕs head, still encased in its helmet, ßying off his body; only his ceaseless warfare (and another personal combat, this time with the traitor Acelin, son of Richard of Rouen) rescues Louis and props up his kingship; yet another single combat signals the end of the German attack on Rome near the poemÕs end. These personal encounters are jewels of prowess set within a gilded narrative of general warfare. No sense of inappropriateness intrudes when William calls on God or the Virgin as sources for his great prowess.

Yet there is worry, or at least an unblinkered realism, intertwined with the praise. The glandular urge to violence surging just below the surface in the warriors appears in both hero and villain; more than once they appear Ômad with rageÕ when challenged or insulted.31 The author also knows that knightly motivation included booty and revenge as well as pure faith and loyalty. At the start of his combat with Corsolt, William not only prays one of his famous prayers, Þlled with theological verities;32 he also eyes his enemyÕs horse with frank covetousness: Ô ÒHoly Mary!Ó he exclaimed, Òwhat a Þne charger that is! He would serve a worthy man so well that I must take care to spare him with my weapons. May God who governs all things protect him and prevent me from harming him with my sword!Ó Õ The poet adds approvingly, ÔThose were not the words of a coward.Õ33 He likewise frankly describes WilliamÕs army living by looting the countryside around Rome while they are on campaign against Guy of Germany: ÔCount William led out the foragers into the sur-

30For dating and general discussion, see Frappier, Chansons de geste, II, 51Ð186. On the uses of violence in this violent text, see Combarieu, ÔLa violenceÕ, I, 126Ð52.

31See, for example, laisses 44, 51.

32Discussed by Frappier, Chansons de geste, 137Ð8, and Maddox and Sara Sturm-Maddox, ÔLe chevalier ˆ oraisonÕ.

33Laisse 21.

rounding district to spoil the countryside. They plundered the whole region, so that the men of the army were well-off and well provided for.Õ34

Going beyond realism to message, the poet notes that in the course of his warfare for King Louis, William attacked the town of Saint-Gilles one morning. Winning an easy victory, he nevertheless Ôacted in a way pleasing to JesusÕ, the audience is told pointedly, Ôwhen he spared the church there from being laid wasteÕ.35

Even more pointed is a critical description of the knighthood of France with whom William had to contend: Ôas long as he lived . . . the Frenchmen took to rebelling again, making war against each other and acting like madmen, burning down towns and laying waste the countryside. They would not restrain themselves at all on LouisÕ account.Õ36 When the acts of prowess leave the realm of the mythic and come closer to home and to contemporary politics, the tone clearly changes: trumpet-calls fade and talk of reform surges.

Much knightly independence with regard to the sphere of clergie, however, receives at least tacit approval. Of course, there is the usual everyday anticlericalism.37 Seeing no sign of vigour in his son Louis when he Þrst offers him the crown, Charlemagne exclaims, ÔLet us cut off all his hair and put him into this monastery; he can pull the bell ropes and be the sacristan, so he will have a pittance to keep him from beggary.Õ38 But more interesting is the ideal of religion and the clerical role.

The most revealing scene comes early in the story, when the pope is trying to persuade William to Þght Corsolt. The pope must present both the most powerful relic (the armbone of St Peter, plainly revealed without its usual gold and silver casing) and the most powerfully attractive concessions before he Þnally convinces William:

Look, here is St Peter, the guardian of souls; if you undertake this feat of arms today on his account, my lord, then you may eat meat every single day for the rest of your life and take as many wives as you have a mind to. You will never commit any sin however wicked (so long as you avoid any act of treason) that will not be discounted, all the days of your life, and you shall have your lodging in paradise, the place Our Lord keeps for His best friends; St Gabriel himself will show you the way.

William can only gasp out his willingness to Þght, and his thankfulness for such terms: ÔAh! God help us! . . . never was there a more generous-hearted cleric! Now I will not fail, for any man alive or for any pagan however foul or wicked, to go out and Þght against these scoundrelsÕ.39 In the Þght that follows, when William appears to be in danger of defeat, the pope actually

threatens St Peter: ÔWhat are you doing, then, St Peter? If he dies out there, it will be unlucky for you: as long as I live and draw breath, there will never be any mass sung in your church!Õ40

SaintsÕ relics were threatened and abused, especially in the earlier Middle Ages, in order to secure some desired result.41 Yet in these remarkable passages we can also see the clergy and the religion they more or less controlled in life refashioned in chivalric literature to conform to an ideal knightly image. The warrior champions of the more powerful God and his powerful saints will overcome his enemies, the knightsÕ enemies, with sword and lance. The sacrality of religion, protected by knighthood, blesses such chivalry and bends the troublesome rules in payment for the knightsÕ hard service. The only unforgivable sin set in a separate category by the pope, we should note, is treason.42

One other example of the knightly beau ideal of a cleric appears later in the person of Walter, Abbot of St Martins, who has hidden away King Louis from eighty traitorous canons and clerics. He gives William an account of their plot and he suggests an unambiguous response: ÔLouis is to be disinherited this very day unless God and you yourself are prepared to protect him. Take all their heads, I beg you in GodÕs name! I take all the sin of desecrating a church upon myself, for they are all traitors and renegades.Õ Hearing this bold plea, William laughs and utters a benediction: ÔBlessed be the hour that such a cleric was nurtured!Õ43

Abbot WalterÕs offer points to an important fact: he presumes that this desecration is both necessary and sinful, requiring his heroic offer to take the sin upon himself. In a similar way, William spends years Þghting constantly for his king, even on holy days:

for three whole years there was not a single day, however high and holy, that William did not have his burnished helm laced on and his sword girt at his side, riding fully armed on his charger. There was not a feastday when men should go to worship, not even Christmas Day which should be set above all others, that he was not dressed in his hauberk and armed. The knight suffered a great penance to support and to aid his lord.44

40Laisse 27.

41On humiliation and coercion of saintsÕ relics, see Geary, ÔLÕHumiliation des saintsÕ; idem,

Living with the Dead, 95Ð124; and Little, Benedictine Maledictions. By the thirteenth century the practices described were under criticism and regulation.

42ÔSe tant puez faire de traison te gardesÕ: l. 393.

43Laisse 40. The idea of a cleric taking on a knightÕs necessary sin is not limited to imaginative literature. Joinville records the offer made to Louis IX (while both were in Muslim captivity). The aged Patriarch of Jerusalem advises Louis to swear whatever his captors require and he will take upon himself any sin involved. Wailly, ed., Joinville, 151Ð2.

44Laisse 46.

proud rebels who will not accept his authority. On the one hand this means justice even for the poor:

a king must strike down wrongs under his feet and trample on them and stamp them out. Towards the poor man, you must humble yourself and, if he has a plea, it should not vex you; rather you should help him and succour him and for love of God restore him to his rights.

On the other hand, a king must stamp out prideful rebelliousness:

Towards the proud man, you must show yourself as Þerce as a man-eating leopard and, if he tries to make war on you, summon throughout France all the noble knights until you have up to thirty thousand, have him besieged in his strongest fortress and all his land laid waste and devastated. If you can capture him or have him delivered into your hands, show him neither mercy nor pity but have all his limbs cut off or let him be burnt in a Þre or drowned in water.54

This advice set in the Carolingian era forms a striking parallel to contemporary Capetian policy, to the ceaseless policing of the ële de France by Louis VI. This historical King Louis would undoubtedly have loved to summon the thirty thousand noble knights of the literary Louis to join him in besieging the strongholds of such local tyrants as Thomas of Marle; he was forced to rely, instead, on a much smaller collection of loyal local vassals and parish militia. The ideological point of the text, however, its reforming message, could scarcely be more plain: whatever the foibles of the current king, the institution of kingship needs the support of Ônoble knightsÕ if right order is to be maintained in a perilous world.

The corollary is, of course, that kings will rule with their vassals in mind and with their vassalsÕ advice heeded in their courts. No low-born men need apply. ÔAnd another thing I want to tell you about that will be very important to youÕ, Charlemagne adds to his message to Louis:

not to take a lowborn man as your counsellor, the son of a lordÕs agent or of a bailiff. These would betray their trust in a minute for money. Choose rather William, the noble warrior, the son of proud Aymeri of Narbonne and brother of Bernard of Brubant, the warrior; if these men are willing to support and aid you, you can completely rely on their service.55

The formula is, in theory, straightforward: when the ideal king relies on the ideal knight the kingdom prospers. The poet knows, of course, how the real world turns, as the closing lines of the poem detail:

54Laisse 13. In a contemporary reference the poet warns that if this is not done the Normans will be contemptuous and encouraged in their hostility.

55Laisse 13.

Within a year [William] had dealt out such punishment to the rebels that Þfteen counts were forced to present themselves at court and do homage for their inheritance to Louis who held command over France. . . . But when he was fully in power, he showed no gratitude to William.

Raoul de Cambrai

The note of ambiguity echoing in the last line of this text will sound even more discordantly in our third example of chanson de geste, Raoul de Cambrai, a poem from the Cycle of the Barons in Revolt.56 Here is a wild story of kingly malfeasance and knightly feud, with no veneer of crusading sanctity57 and with even larger question marks left hanging in mid-air.

It is a poem with a history and architecture that are complex, even for a chanson de geste. The Þrst portion seems to have appeared in writing by the midtwelfth century; it tells the story of the violent, prideful, heedless warrior Raoul; and it apparently used the poetic technique of assonance rather than rhyme. Somewhere in the early years of the reign of Philip II (1180Ð1223) this original, assonanced epic was rhymed and expanded by a section with focus on Bernier, RaoulÕs vassal and eventual killer. This entire rewriting is known as Raoul I. Towards the end of PhilipÕs reign, another addition appeared, in assonanced form, carrying the story through more adventures, feuding, and battles until Ô[t]here being no other male characters left, the story comes to an endÕ.58 This early thirteenth-century section is known as Raoul II. We can draw on the evidence of both sections, but will focus primarily on Raoul I, and speciÞcally on that section concerned with Raoul himself, since this was the most widespread part of the text.

The characteristics of the society portrayed in Raoul I could have formed a model for HobbesÕs state of nature. ÔThe poem has a nightmarish quality,Õ as Sarah Kay, its most recent editor and translator, has observed, Ôarising both from the horror of the events portrayed and from the ethical opacity of the narrative as it pursues alternative perspectives through unstable characters and competing narrative strands.Õ59 In this world, chivalry by and large means prowess crowned with success, an obsession with honour defended by unbeatable violence. The blood of characters boils regularly; they go mad with rage

56 Unless otherwise stated, all quotations in this section are from Kay, ed., tr., Raoul de Cambrai. The brief description of the text which follows is based on her thorough introduction. Cf. Calin, Old French Epic, passim; idem, ÔRaoul de CambraiÕ; idem, Muse for Heroes, 37Ð56; Pauline Matarasso, Recherches historiques.

57 The knights Þght no pagans in Raoul I; in Raoul II, since some pagans are good, some bad, the force of crusading valorization is likewise missing.

58 Kay, Raoul de Cambrai, lv.

His Ônoble warriorsÕ are dutifully about to commit these multiple sacrileges when they hear the church bells peal: Ôremembering God the Father of justice, even the craziest of them felt compelled to show reverenceÕ, and so they simply camp outside the town.65

On discovering this disobedience, Raoul at Þrst characteristically loses control (Ôfu molt demesurezÕ), but comes to see that the holy relics of the church must not be destroyed. His uncle Guerri clinches the case with a frank assessment of power: ÔIf God takes against you, you wonÕt last long.Õ66 Raoul even agrees to a truce with the nuns who serve the church, led by Marsent, BernierÕs mother. Their meeting (as noted in Chapter 10) is a striking tableau of clergie confronting chevalerie. The nuns process beyond the town walls, reciting the holy ofÞce and carrying books, the symbols of their Latinate literacy and learning; Marsent even holds Ôa book from the time of SolomonÕ.

Though Raoul agrees to a truce, a chance incident, involving what he takes to be disrespect to three of his men, sparks his successful all-out attack and the Þring of the town: ÔRooms are burning here and ßoors collapsing there, barrels are catching Þre, their hoops split, and children are burning to death in horrible agony.Õ The church, too, goes up in ßames and all the nuns die; a distraught Bernier sees Marsent lying in the ßames, her priceless book symbolically burning on her breast.67 His work for the day done, Raoul repairs to his tent, dismounts from his great tawny warhorse, and is disarmed by barons who love him, as the poet relates: Ôthey unlace his green helmet ornamented with pure gold, then they ungird his good steel sword, and take off his good double hauberk from his back. . . . There was not such a Þne knight in the whole of France, nor one so fearless at arms.Õ68

KayÕs comment about moral opacity and multiple perspectives comes readily to mind. Medieval writers who commented on Raoul saw in him the very model of violent excess, of demesure, allowing modern readers to believe that the poet intended to provoke just such reactions. The text is peppered, in fact, with explicit statements against demesure. The author observes early in the action that Ôan unbridled man (hom desreez) has great difÞculty in survivingÕ.69 Ybert, giving his son Bernier advice, states the same theme: ÔI will be honest with you: I can tell you the story of many menÕs lives, and an arrogant man will never succeed, whatever anyone may say.Õ70 Shortly thereafter, Count Eudes makes the same point: ÔBarons . . . noble knights! A man without moderation (sans mesure) is not worth a Þg.Õ71

The idea of sheer war-weariness, moreover, joins moderation as a close ally near the close of Raoul I. Bernier and Gautier, the current champions of the

feuding sides, have fought their single combat and, as we have already noted, lie severely wounded. Though Gautier, blood boiling, is shouting deÞance from his bed, Bernier suddenly declares enough is enough; peace is the great need; resistance to it is sin. Wounded, semi-naked, publicly prostrating himself in the form of a cross before his enemy, Bernier offers his sword and a paciÞc ultimatum: Gautier must either kill him or be reconciled. The blessings of clergie descend on the offer as the Abbot of Saint-Germain comes into the scene, loaded with sacred relics. A peace is, for the time, arranged.

Looking at such scenes as this, at the structure of the plot as a whole, and at the explicit statements favouring mesure, we might easily decide that the ÔmessageÕ of the text is clear. Yet we cannot be certain how everyone in the audience heard and interpreted; nagging doubts and a sense of the need for qualiÞcation remain. The message can scarcely be paciÞsm: a realignment of the feuding families against the king and the enthusiastic Þring of Paris, for one thing, follow quickly on the heels of the reconciliation.

And in a more general way, fears of demesure and violence only slowly and partially drag the heavy anchor of sheer, beloved prowess, the undiminished commitment to honour defended with edged weapons. After Raoul dies on the battleÞeld next to a slain opponent named John, the biggest knight in all of France, the hearts are removed from the two bodies and laid out on a shield to be examined; the result will be signiÞcant, for the heart was the seat of prowess, the point of origin for the arteries which in Galenic theory carried the animal vitality of the body. The giant John, it turns out, had the heart of a child, while that of Raoul Ôwas very much larger than that of a draught ox at the ploughÕ.72

The text thus shows some signs of ambivalence. The author wants mesure in knights, wants them to learn not to burn churches, and certainly to avoid burning nuns; he thinks there is a time to end wars, even if there is also a time to initiate them. Yet through it all something of the ancient call to arms stirs him, something of the grandeur in noble revenge seems satisfying, even it if must inevitably, sadly, be achieved at great cost.73

This sense of complexity of view is reinforced by the absence of that endorsement of royal power which so often appears as a theme in chanson de geste. In this text, far from representing a needed regulator and peacemaker, the king is ultimately at the root of the problems; he gives away RaoulÕs Þef to a favourite and later gives Raoul the Þef of the faithful royal vassal Herbert, who has four sons. At the end of Raoul I the antagonistic families belatedly

72Laisse CLX.

73Matarasso agrees: see Recherches historiques, 163Ð4. ÔRaoul est ce hŽros ŽpiqueÕ, she writes. ÔIl suit son Žtoile, lÕŽtoile de grandeur, de la dŽmesure, de la dŽchŽanceÕ (p. 174).