CHAPTER 24
In Myles Falworth's day one of the greatest ceremonies of courtly
life was that of the bestowal of knighthood by the King, with the
honors of the Bath. By far the greater number of knights were at
that time created by other knights, or by nobles, or by officers
of the crown. To be knighted by the King in person distinguished
the recipient for life. It was this signal honor that the Earl,
for his own purposes, wished Myles to enjoy, and for this end he
had laid not a few plans.
The accolade was the term used for the creation of a knight upon
the field of battle. It was a reward of valor or of meritorious
service, and was generally bestowed in a more or less off-hand
way; but the ceremony of the Bath was an occasion of the greatest
courtly moment, and it was thus that Myles Falworth was to be
knighted in addition to the honor of a royal belting.
A quaint old book treating of knighthood and chivalry gives a
full and detailed account of all the circumstances of the
ceremony of a creation of a Knight of the Bath. It tells us that
the candidate was first placed under the care of two squires of
honor, "grave and well seen in courtship and nurture, and also in
feats of chivalry," which same were likewise to be governors in
all things relating to the coming honors.
First of all, the barber shaved him, and cut his hair in a
certain peculiar fashion ordained for the occasion, the squires
of honor supervising the operation. This being concluded, the
candidate was solemnly conducted to the chamber where the bath of
tepid water was prepared, "hung within and without with linen,
and likewise covered with rich cloths and embroidered linen."
While in the bath two "ancient, grave, and reverend knights"
attended the bachelor, giving him "meet instructions in the order
and feats of chivalry." The candidate was then examined as to his
knowledge and acquirements, and then, all questions being
answered to the satisfaction of his examiners, the elder of the
two dipped a handful of water out from the bath, and poured it
upon his head, at the same time signing his left shoulder with
the sign of the cross.
As soon as this ceremony was concluded, the two squires of honor
helped their charge from the bath, and conducted him to a plain
bed without hangings, where they let him rest until his body was
warm and dry. Then they clad him in a white linen shirt, and over
it a plain robe of russet, "girdled about the loins with a rope,
and having a hood like unto a hermit."
As soon as the candidate had arisen, the two "ancient knights"
returned, and all being in readiness he was escorted to the
chapel, the two walking, one upon either side of him, his squires
of honor marching before, and the whole party preceded by "sundry
minstrels making a loud noise of music."
When they came to the chapel, the two knights who escorted him
took leave of the candidate, each saluting him with a kiss upon
the cheek. No one remained with him but his squires of honor, the
priest, and the chandler.
In the mean time the novitiate's armor, sword, lance, and helmet
had been laid in readiness before the altar. These he watched and
guarded while the others slept, keeping vigil until sunrise,
during which time "he shall," says the ancient authority, "pass
the night in orisons, prayers, and meditation." At daylight he
confessed to the priest, heard matins, and communicated in mass,
and then presented a lighted candle at the altar, with a piece of
money stuck in it as close to the flame as could be done, the
candle being offered to the honor of God, and the money to the
honor of that person who was to make him a knight.
So concluded the sacred ceremony, which being ended his squires
conducted the candidate to his chamber, and there made him
comfortable, and left him to repose for a while before the second
and final part of the ordinance.
Such is a shortened account of the preparatory stages of the
ceremonies through which Myles Falworth passed.
Matters had come upon him so suddenly one after the other, and
had come with such bewildering rapidity that all that week was to
him like some strange, wonderful, mysterious vision. He went
through it all like one in a dream. Lord George Beaumont was one
of his squires of honor; the other, by way of a fitting
complement to the courage of the chivalrous lad, was the Sieur de
la Montaigne, his opponent soon to be. They were well versed in
everything relating to knightcraft, and Myles followed all their
directions with passive obedience. Then Sir James Lee and the
Comte de Vermoise administered the ceremony of the Bath, the old
knight examining him in the laws of chivalry.
It occurs perhaps once or twice in one's lifetime that one passes
through great happenings--sometimes of joy, sometimes of dreadful
bitterness--in just such a dazed state as Myles passed through
this. It is only afterwards that all comes back to one so sharply
and keenly that the heart thrills almost in agony in living it
over again. But perhaps of all the memory of that time, when it
afterwards came back piece by piece, none was so clear to Myles's
back-turned vision as the long night spent in the chapel,
watching his armor, thinking such wonderful thoughts, and
dreaming such wonderful wide-eyed dreams. At such times Myles saw
again the dark mystery of the castle chapel; he saw again the
half-moon gleaming white and silvery through the tall, narrow
window, and throwing a broad form of still whiteness across stone
floor, empty seats, and still, motionless figures of stone
effigies. At such times he stood again in front of the twinkling
tapers that lit the altar where his armor lay piled in a heap,
heard again the deep breathing of his companions of the watch
sleeping in some empty stall, wrapped each in his cloak, and saw
the old chandler bestir himself, and rise and come forward to
snuff the candles. At such times he saw again the day growing
clearer and clearer through the tall, glazed windows, saw it
change to a rosy pink, and then to a broad, ruddy glow that threw
a halo of light around Father Thomas's bald head bowed in sleep,
and lit up the banners and trophies hanging motionless against
the stony face of the west wall; heard again the stirring of life
without and the sound of his companions arousing themselves; saw
them come forward, and heard them wish him joy that his long
watch was ended.
It was nearly noon when Myles was awakened from a fitful sleep by
Gascoyne bringing in his dinner, but, as might be supposed, he
had but little hunger, and ate sparingly. He had hardly ended his
frugal meal before his two squires of honor came in, followed by
a servant carrying the garments for the coming ceremony. He
saluted them gravely, and then arising, washed his face and hands
in a basin which Gascoyne held; then kneeled in prayer, the
others standing silent at a little distance. As he arose, Lord
George came forward.
"The King and the company come presently to the Great Hall,
Myles," said he; "it is needful for thee to make all the haste
that thou art able."
Perhaps never had Devlen Castle seen a more brilliant and goodly
company gathered in the great hall than that which came to
witness King Henry create Myles Falworth a knight bachelor.
At the upper end of the hall was a raised dais, upon which stood
a throne covered with crimson satin and embroidered with lions
and flower- deluces; it was the King's seat. He and his personal
attendants had not yet come, but the rest of the company were
gathered. The day being warm and sultry, the balcony was all
aflutter with the feather fans of the ladies of the family and
their attendants, who from this high place looked down upon the
hall below. Up the centre of the hall was laid a carpet of arras,
and the passage was protected by wooden railings. Upon the one
side were tiers of seats for the castle gentlefolks and the
guests. Upon the other stood the burghers from the town, clad in
sober dun and russet, and yeomanry in green and brown. The whole
of the great vaulted hall was full of the dull hum of many people
waiting, and a ceaseless restlessness stirred the crowded throng.
But at last a whisper went around that the King was coming. A
momentary hush fell, and through it was heard the noisy clatter
of horses' feet coming nearer and nearer, and then stopping
before the door. The sudden blare of trumpets broke through the
hush; another pause, and then in through the great door-way of
the hall came the royal procession.
First of all marched, in the order of their rank, and to the
number of a score or more, certain gentlemen, esquires and
knights, chosen mostly from the King's attendants. Behind these
came two pursuivants-at-arms in tabards, and following them a
party of a dozen more bannerets and barons. Behind these again, a
little space intervening, came two heralds, also in tabards, a
group of the greater nobles attendant upon the King following in
the order of their rank. Next came the King-at-arms and, at a
little distance and walking with sober slowness, the King
himself, with the Earl and the Count directly attendant upon
him-- the one marching upon the right hand and the other upon the
left. A breathless silence filled the whole space as the royal
procession advanced slowly up the hall. Through the stillness
could be heard the muffled sound of the footsteps on the carpet,
the dry rustling of silk and satin garments, and the clear clink
and jingle of chains and jewelled ornaments, but not the sound of
a single voice.
After the moment or two of bustle and confusion of the King
taking his place had passed, another little space of expectant
silence fell. At last there suddenly came the noise of
acclamation of those who stood without the door--cheering and the
clapping of hands--sounds heralding the immediate advent of Myles
and his attendants. The next moment the little party entered the
hall.
First of all, Gascoyne, bearing Myles's sword in both hands, the
hilt resting against his breast, the point elevated at an angle
of forty-five degrees. It was sheathed in a crimson scabbard, and
the belt of Spanish leather studded with silver bosses was wound
crosswise around it. From the hilt of the sword dangled the gilt
spurs of his coming knighthood. At a little distance behind his
squire followed Myles, the centre of all observation. He was clad
in a novitiate dress, arranged under Lord George's personal
supervision. It had been made somewhat differently from the
fashion usual at such times, and was intended to indicate in a
manner the candidate's extreme youthfulness and virginity in
arms. The outer garment was a tabard robe of white wool,
embroidered at the hem with fine lines of silver, and gathered
loosely at the waist with a belt of lavender leather stitched
with thread of silver. Beneath he was clad in armor (a present
from the Earl), new and polished till it shone with dazzling
brightness, the breastplate covered with a juppon of white satin,
embroidered with silver. Behind Myles, and upon either hand, came
his squires of honor, sponsors, and friends-- a little company of
some half-dozen in all. As they advanced slowly up the great,
dim, high-vaulted room, the whole multitude broke forth into a
humming buzz of applause. Then a sudden clapping of hands began
near the door-way, ran down through the length of the room, and
was taken up by all with noisy clatter.
"Saw I never youth so comely," whispered one of the Lady Anne's
attendant gentlewomen. "Sure he looketh as Sir Galahad looked
when he came first to King Arthur's court."
Myles knew that he was very pale; he felt rather than saw the
restless crowd of faces upon either side, for his eyes were fixed
directly before him, upon the dais whereon sat the King, with the
Earl of Mackworth standing at his right hand, the Comte de
Vermoise upon the left, and the others ranged around and behind
the throne. It was with the same tense feeling of dreamy
unreality that Myles walked slowly up the length of the hall,
measuring his steps by those of Gascoyne. Suddenly he felt Lord
George Beaumont touch him lightly upon the arm, and almost
instinctively he stopped short--he was standing just before the
covered steps of the throne.
He saw Gascoyne mount to the third step, stop short, kneel, and
offer the sword and the spurs he carried to the King, who took
the weapon and laid it across his knees. Then the squire bowed
low, and walking backward withdrew to one side, leaving Myles
standing alone facing the throne. The King unlocked the spur
chains from the sword- hilt, and then, holding the gilt spurs in
his hand for a moment, he looked Myles straight in the eyes and
smiled. Then he turned, and gave one of the spurs to the Earl of
Mackworth.
The Earl took it with a low bow, turned, and came slowly down the
steps to where Myles stood. Kneeling upon one knee, and placing
Myles's foot upon the other, Lord Mackworth set the spur in its
place and latched the chain over the instep. He drew the sign of
the cross upon Myles's bended knee, set the foot back upon the
ground, rose with slow dignity, and bowing to the King, drew a
little to one side.
As soon as the Earl had fulfilled his office the King gave the
second spur to the Comte de Vermoise, who set it to Myles's other
foot with the same ceremony that the Earl had observed,
withdrawing as he had done to one side.
An instant pause of motionless silence followed, and then the
King slowly arose, and began deliberately to unwind the belt from
around the scabbard of the sword he held. As soon as he stood,
the Earl and the Count advanced, and taking Myles by either hand,
led him forward and up the steps of the dais to the platform
above. As they drew a little to one side, the King stooped and
buckled the sword-belt around Myles's waist, then, rising again,
lifted his hand and struck him upon the shoulder, crying, in a
loud voice.
"Be thou a good knight!"
Instantly a loud sound of applause and the clapping of hands
filled the whole hall, in the midst of which the King laid both
hands upon Myles's shoulders and kissed him upon the right cheek.
So the ceremony ended; Myles was no longer Myles Falworth, but
Sir Myles Falworth, Knight by Order of the Bath and by grace of
the King!
