PAGE, SQUIRE AND KNIGHT

IT MUST HAVE BEEN A sight well worth seeing when a knight mounted his horse and galloped away from a castle. Of course his armor was polished and shining, and, as Lowell says of Sir Launfal, he “made morn through the darksome gate.” The children of the castle especially must have watched him with the greatest interest. The girls looked wistfully at the scarf or glove on his helmet, each one hoping that he who would someday wear her colors would be the bravest man that ever drew a sword. As for the boys, they could hardly wait for the day to come when they, too, could don glittering armor and sally forth into the world in quest of adventures.

Even the youngest of these children knew that a boy must pass through long years of training before he could become a knight. This began when he was a small child, perhaps not more than seven years old. It was not the custom for the son of a noble to be brought up in the home of his father. He was sent for his education and training to the castle of some lord of higher rank or greater reputation, sometimes to the court of the king. He was taught to look with the utmost respect upon the man who trained him to be a knight, to reverence him as a father, and to behave toward him with humility and meekness. Even if the time ever came when they were fighting on opposite sides, the foster son must never harm the man whose castle had been his home. In those days of warfare and bloodshed, the king himself might well be glad to have as devoted supporters and friends a band of young men who had been carefully trained in the practice of arms. It is no wonder that kings and nobles looked upon it as a privilege to receive these boys into their castles. Indeed, when their fathers were inclined to keep them at home, the king sometimes demanded that they be sent to him.

The boys of the days of knighthood were not so very different from those of today, and many of their amusements were the same as now. They had various games of ball, they played marbles, they see-sawed, and walked on stilts, much as if they belonged to the twentieth century. Of course they played at being knights, just as boys today play at being merchants or manufacturers. There is an old picture of some pages, as these boys were called, playing that two toy knights mounted on wooden horses are having a contest. The two horses are pushed toward each other, and if either knight is struck by the spear of the other and thrust out of his place he is vanquished.

This was only play, and there were many things that a page must learn and learn thoroughly before he was fourteen or fifteen. How much of “book learning” was given him is not known. Probably the custom differed in different places. In most cases, it could not have been a great amount, perhaps only a little reading, and it seems to have been regarded as no disgrace to a knight if he did not even know his letters. He must learn to sing, however, and to play his accompaniments on the harp; and he must play backgammon and chess, for these games were looked upon as accomplishments which no gentleman could be without. He was taught to say his prayers and to have respect for the Church and religion. It was especially impressed upon him that he must be “serviceable,” that is, he must wait upon the ladies and lords of the castle. He must run on errands for them and he must do their bidding in all things, for it was an honor to him to be permitted to serve them. A page who was disobedient would have been scorned and despised by the other pages, for they all hoped to become knights, and no true knight would refuse to obey the commands of his lord or the gentler behests of his lady-love. Such a one would have been looked upon as no knight, indeed, but rather as a rude, boorish churl. The page, or valet or damoiseau or babee, as he was also called, must always be gentle and polite; for the knight was an ideal gentleman, and the gentleman must never fail in courtesy. There is a quaint little volume called “The Babees’ Book” which tells just how a boy who wished to become a knight was expected to behave. When he entered the room of his lord, he must greet all modestly with a “God speed you,” and he must kneel on one knee before his lord. If his lord spoke to him, he must make an obeisance before answering. He must not lean against a post or handle things, but stand quietly, listen to what was said, and speak when he was spoken to. When the meal was prepared, he must bring water for hand-washing, presenting it first to his lord, and must hold a towel ready for him to use, a most desirable part of the preparation for a meal, as it was the custom for two persons to use the same trencher, or wooden plate, and forks were not in use. When the time came for the page himself to eat, he must not lean upon the table or soil the cloth or throw any bones upon the floor. If he chanced to use the same trencher with any one of higher rank than he, he must take meat from the trencher first, but he must be especially careful not to take the best piece.

Thus it was that the indoor life of the page passed. Most of his indoor teaching was given him by the ladies of the castle. It was they who taught him to choose a lady-love for whose sake he was to be ever brave and pure and modest. The story is told of one shy little page at the court of France that when one of the court ladies asked whom he loved best, he replied, “My lady mother first, and after her my sister.” “That is not what I mean,” said the lady. “Tell me who is your lady-love in chivalry.” The little fellow admitted that he had none. After a severe lecture because he was so un-chivalric, he chose a little girl of his own age. “She is a pretty little girl,” replied the lady, “but she cannot advise you or help you on as a knight. You must choose some lady of noble birth who can give you counsel and aid. Then you must do everything in your power to please her. You must be courteous and humble and strive with all you’re might to win her favor.”

Out of doors, too, the page had much to learn. If his lord went to the field of battle, the page went with him to help him in every way that a boy could. He was in no danger, for a knight who attacked a page would have been shamed and disgraced. As for riding, of course he had not been allowed to reach the age of seven without knowing how to sit on a horse; but now riding became a matter of business. It was not a mere canter on a pony whenever he took a fancy; it was a careful training, for he must practice leaping over ditches and walls, he must be able to spring into the saddle without touching the stirrup, and, in short, he must learn to be as perfectly at home on the back of a horse as on his own feet. Light weapons were provided for him, and he must learn how to use sword and lance and bow, and how to swim and box and fence. He must meet the other boys of the castle in mock contests. These were carefully watched by the elders, who were eager to see whether or not the son of some valiant knight bade fair to maintain the reputation of his father.

A most important part of the boy’s instruction was hunting, or the “mystery of the woods,” and hawking, or the “mystery of the rivers,” so called because it was often pursued on the open banks of streams. The page who understood hawking had conquered a most complicated branch of his education. He had to learn the different kinds of falcons, how to train the birds to throw themselves upon their prey, how to feed them, and what calls to use with them. There was a rule for every act; for instance, there was only one way in which a hawk might be properly carried. The master’s arm must be held parallel with his body, but not touching it, and the forearm must be held out at a right angle as a perch for the bird. A man who would practice the mystery of the rivers and did not carry his falcon in the approved fashion would have been the laughing-stock of his companions. Even pages had their own falcons, and a taste for hunting and hawking was looked upon as a mark of noble blood. When a page was sent to bear a letter, he sometimes carried his falcon on his wrist for company on the way. There were possible dangers on every journey, but I fancy that the page was always glad to be sent with a message, especially if it was a pleasant one, for then he was sure of a warm welcome and generous gifts from the happy recipient.

During the seven or eight years that he was a page, the boy was always looking forward to the time when he would become a squire, for this was the next step toward knighthood. Now that he had grown older and stronger, more service was required of him, and his exercises became more severe. Within the castle he continued to serve at the table; but he was now privileged to present the first or principal cup of wine. He still brought water for the hand-washing, and he carved the meat. He never sat at the same table with his lord. Indeed, in many places a knight would not permit his own son to eat with him until he, too, had been made a knight. In Chaucer’s description of a squire, he makes it clear that the young man of twenty years was a brave young fellow who had had considerable experience in warfare, but

Curteys he was, lowly and servisable,

And cart before his fader at the table.

After the meal was over, squires and pages together cleared the hall for dancing, or they brought tables for checkers or for the heavy chessboards then in use. Whatever amusement was on foot, the squire was permitted to share. Indeed, throughout all the training of a boy for...