Introduction
The Ordene de chevalerie is an anonymous Old French poem composed circa 1220. This literary work weaves a fictional tale around historical figures and occurrences in and near the Kingdom of Jerusalem before the Third Crusade. The poem's title can be interpreted as "Order of Knighthood." Notably, it stands as one of the earliest and most influential didactic texts dedicated to chivalry, with its impact extending beyond France to other regions. This explicitly Christian creation strives to establish the rightful role of knighthood within a Christian society.
An early prose rendition of the poem emerged, and the poem itself, or its prose adaptation, can be found, either entirely or partially, in ten medieval manuscripts, an additional five modern ones, and has seen at least five printed editions. Moreover, the prose version is integrated into two manuscripts of the Estoire d'Eracles and its continuations. In 1779, Pierre Legrand d'Aussy, a medievalist, presented a prose adaptation of this poem, In 1922 Georges Bataille dedicated his doctoral thesis to this poem, though it was never officially submitted to the École nationale des chartes.
Unraveling the influence of the Ordene de chevalerie on the chivalric tradition poses a challenge. While some have asserted, albeit without substantiated evidence, that it served as a source for Ramon Llull's Book on the Order of Chivalry, the text's popularity suggests its significance. It likely drew inspiration from Chrétien de Troyes, particularly his work, Le Conte du Graal.
The Order of Chivalry
Verily, the utterances of the wise are treasures of great worth,
For through them, we attain vast riches in knowledge, virtue, and grace.
It is noble to consort with those who tread the path of wisdom,
Shielded from the folly that leads astray.
Just as Solomon's wisdom shines through the ages,
So does the wise soul excel in every endeavor.
And should they falter, ever unknowingly,
Swift forgiveness shall grace their contrite heart,
For their will is bent towards penitence and growth.
But now I must turn my attention to verse,
And recount a tale I once heard,
Of a bygone era, in a distant realm,
Of a King of Paynemry, a renowned figure.
Saladin was his name, a loyal Saracen,
Yet cruelty marked his reign, causing harm
To our faith and people through his pride.
One fateful day, a Prince named Hugh of Tabary,
With a formidable host of Galilee's knights,
Chose to challenge him, for he ruled that domain.
On that day, grand deeds unfolded in haste,
Yet the Creator, the Lord of Glory, ordained
That victory in battle should not be ours.
Prince Hugh was captured, paraded through the streets,
Before the gaze of King Saladin, who spoke,
In Latin, known to him without a doubt:
"Hugh, your capture pleases me, by Mahomet's grace,
And here, I make a solemn vow to you,
You must either meet your fate in death,
Or secure your freedom through a ransom."
Sir Hugh, resolute, made this reply:
"Since you grant me the choice of ransom,
I shall commit to it, if means allow."
"Indeed," the King responded, "then you shall pay
One hundred thousand besants without delay."
"Ah, my Lord, I cannot do this alone,
Even if I sell all my lands to atone."
"Yet you show great courage," said Saladin with praise.
"You possess valiance and chivalry's blaze.
Your lords shall not oppose your plea,
But shall contribute to your ransom, you see,
Bestowing upon you a generous gift,
Thus shall your release be set adrift."
"One more thing I would inquire of thee,
How can I swiftly find my way from here?"
Saladin replied with a solemn decree:
"Hugh, swear to me by your faith and troth,
That in two years' time, without any loath,
You'll return to this very place, you see,
To pay your ransom or to prison be.
This way, your debts to me shall be remit."
"Sir," said Hugh, "I agree to this commit,
I pledge my faith and honor to your demand."
Then he sought permission to depart the land,
Back to his own realm he longed to go.
But King Saladin, with a gentle flow,
Led him to a chamber, spacious and rare,
And there, he beseeched with a gracious air:
"Hugh," he said, "by the faith you hold dear,
To the God whose law you revere,
Enlighten me, for I deeply desire,
To tread the path of Knighthood, aspire.
Teach me, for I am eager to learn,
The ways of becoming a Knight in turn."
"Good sir," he responded, "this cannot be,
For I shall elucidate it unto thee:
The sacred order of Knighthood's embrace
Will not befit you in your present case.
Your beliefs follow a different creed,
With neither faith nor Baptism, indeed."
"A great fool indeed is the one who dares,
To cloak a privy with silken snares,
And thinks the stench shall nevermore offend,
Such a feat, my friend, is bound to rend.
Likewise, it would be unsuitable, I declare,
To impose such expectations, fair and square,
Upon you, for it would be too bold a demand,
And surely, blame would fall upon my hand."
"Hugh," said Saladin, "there's no evil scheme,
In my request, as it may seem.
You are imprisoned within my walls,
And you must heed the duty that calls.
Though it may displease you to comply,
This task, I assure you, won't make you die."
"Sir, since you insist and leave me no choice,
I'll undertake the work with steady poise,
I'll accomplish it as best I can,
With no fear of danger in this plan."
Then, with diligence, Hugh began to teach
The king about grooming, as he did beseech,
Explaining the care of face, hair, and beard,
As befitting a newly knighted lord revered.
He guided Saladin through proper attire,
And into a bath to cleanse, inspire.
The Sultan inquired about the purpose therein,
And Hugh of Tabarie began to begin:
"This bath, where your body's immersed and cleansed,
Symbolizes, Sir Soudan, as it commences,
Just as infants, tainted by original sin,
Are born anew through baptism's akin.
As they emerge from the sacred font's embrace,
So should you emerge, free from all disgrace.
Filled with honor, kindness, and goodwill,
In honesty, your heart and soul should fill,
To become beloved by all upon this earth."
"Indeed," said the King, "this is a noble birth,
By God Almighty, our path takes its worth."
Emerging from that splendid bath so grand,
He reclined upon a bed truly grand,
Adorned with rich and precious array.
"Tell me, what does this bed represent today?"
"Sire, this bed now symbolizes the path,"
Hugh explained, "by which a Knight, in his wrath,
Seeks to attain the bed in Paradise,
Which God reserves for His faithful and wise.
In that blessed bed of eternal rest,
No wicked soul shall ever find its nest."
He lay on the bed for a little while,
Donning garments with a dignified style,
Made of pure white linen, bright and pure.
Then in his Latin tongue, Sir Hugh did assure:
"Sir, do not think my words are empty air,
The linen next to your skin, I declare,
All white, serves to remind us true and fit,
That Knights must strive to keep themselves legit,
In purity, if they desire with grace,
To walk the righteous path to God's embrace."
In a robe of scarlet hue, he was attired,
And Saladin, once more, was inspired,
To inquire about the meaning in this case.
"Hugh," he asked, "reveal the robe's embrace,
Tell me what this crimson garment portrays."
And Hugh of Tabarie earnestly conveys:
"This robe is gifted to you with great intent,
To emphasize the essence of the covenant sent.
Never cease to give your utmost devotion,
In serving God, with a steadfast emotion,
And safeguard Holy Church, in all its might,
That no harm befalls it, day or night."
"To Knights, all these deeds are just and right,
If they wish to make their paths to God alight.
The scarlet gown symbolizes this," he said.
"Hugh," Saladin replied, with thoughts widespread.
Then he donned shoes of brown, simple and plain,
And said, "Sir, this choice is not in vain,
These black shoes are a reminder, you see,
Of mortality, and earth's final decree.
They remind you from whence you came,
And to where you go, in the end, the same.
Thus, keep a watchful eye on your own heart,
So pride never tears your noble part,
For pride should never dominate a Knight,
Simplicity must always be his guiding light."
"All these teachings are truly wise," said the King,
"None of this wisdom my heart shall wring."
Then, he stood tall, girded with a belt so slight,
White and modest, it caught the light.
"Behold, Sire, this slender belt does portray,
That you must keep your flesh in a pure array,
Maintain your body, reins, and soul,
In a state of purity, as your ultimate goal,
Like a virgin, undefiled and chaste,
Shun lechery, as a sin to be placed.
For Knights should ever keep their bodies clean,
To prevent shame and tarnish, it is foreseen.
Unclean deeds, God does deeply abhor."
The King nodded, "Your teachings I truly adore."
Next, he affixed two spurs to his feet, and thus he spoke:
"Sir, just as swiftly and willingly as you wish your steed to yoke,
To spur him with the will to run the course,
So these spurs, gilt all around, endorse.
They signify the ever-burning flame,
In your heart, to serve God, your heavenly aim.
For every Knight who truly loves the Lord,
Serves Him devoutly, in full accord,
With a heart that's steadfast and sincere."
Saladin, eager to learn, drew near.
Then, a sword he girt around his waist,
And Saladin inquired with noble haste:
"What meaning does this sword, in your hand, convey?"
"Sir," said he, "it serves as a shield, I dare say,
Against the fiend's assaults, as seen right here,
The double-edged blade instructs, make it clear,
How a true Knight must blend loyalty and right.
To protect the weak, with all their might,
From the tyranny of the wealthy and the strong,
Uphold the feeble 'gainst the arrogant throng.
This, I believe, is the path of Mercy's grace."
Saladin, attentive, absorbed every trace.
He then placed a shining white coif upon his head,
And he explained its symbolism, as they both were led:
"Now, behold, Sir King," he gently spoke,
"Just as this coif, without blemish or yoke,
Is pure and white, clean and clear as day,
Resting upon your head, where it will stay.
So, on Judgment Day, we must appear,
Free from the great sins we may hold dear,
Clean and pure from all deeds amiss,
That our earthly bodies might commit.
We must present ourselves to God, so wise,
To claim the ultimate prize, the heavenly prize,
For Paradise holds indescribable delights,
Beyond what any tongue, ear, or heart invites.
And what God grants to His faithful friends."
Saladin, deeply attentive, comprehends.
Then he inquired, "Is there anything I lack or miss?"
"Yes, indeed," he replied, "but I dare not insist."
"What is it, then?" Saladin asked with care.
"The accolade," he answered, "a moment to spare.
Why haven't you performed this act for me,
And explained its significance, clearly to see?"
"Sir, it's a ceremony, a commemoration so bright,
Of the Knight's ordination and proper rite.
But I won't bestow it upon you this day,
For I am your captive here, I must obey.
I cannot engage in any wicked pursuit,
Lest blame be placed on me for such a suit.
Nor shall I be the one to confer this grace,
With deeds that transgress our current place."
"Furthermore, I shall impart to you,
Three weighty matters, tried and true,
That every new Knight must firmly uphold,
Throughout life's journey, noble and bold,
To attain honor, which is their quest.
First and foremost, be it well expressed,
He must not involve himself in false judgment,
Nor dwell in the realm of treacherous intent.
Swiftly, he should withdraw from such a place,
Or if he cannot mend the vile disgrace,
Then promptly flee from it with determined pace.
The second matter is equally sound,
Let no lady or maiden ever be found,
Receiving from him ill counsel or advice,
Unless they seek his wisdom, concise.
In times of need, he must aid with his might,
To gain fair fame and uphold what's right.
For women deserve honor, you see,
And valorous deeds, done mightily.
Lastly, this lesson you must also heed,
Maintain rightful abstinence, indeed.
On Fridays, let fasting be your due,
In holy memory, it is true,
Of when Christ was pierced by a spear,
For our redemption, in a manner clear.
On this day, until your life is past,
Fast for the Lord's sake, hold it fast.
But if illness or companionship forbids,
Secure God's peace through almsgiving bids,
Or by some other means, your soul to please."
"The final counsel I impart to thee,
Is to attend Mass each day without delay,
And make an offering, if you can, I say.
For offerings hold a significant might,
When placed upon God's holy altar's light,
For there, they bear great divine insight."
The King, having heard all of this with delight,
Found great joy in his heart, shining bright.
He rose from his seat, dressed as was fair,
Entered the grand feast hall, without a care,
Where fifty admirals, his country's pride,
Awaited him there, seated by his side.
Hugh, at his feet, initially was found,
But the King soon gave him a place renowned,
Raising him high, with honor, full of grace.
Then the King declared, "Without a trace
Of doubt, for your valor and your might,
I have a precious gift for you this night.
I grant it freely, without constraint,
That whenever your people face restraint,
In battle fierce, or turmoil of the land,
For your sake, they shall receive a helping hand.
If you desire it, you have but to ask.
Yet, if you ride through my realm's great expanse,
Without harm shall you safely go,
And, as a sign of peace, you'll bestow
Your helm upon your palfrey's gentle frame,
To prevent any conflict or claim.
Furthermore, you shall have, without ado,
Up to ten of your captured crew,
If you wish to take them away with thee."
"Sir," said Hugh, "with heartfelt thanks, you see,
I acknowledge your abundant grace.
But one thing I request in this embrace.
You guided me to seek and beseech,
From good men, assistance to reach,
For my own ransom, a noble quest,
But, O King, among the very best,
I find no one valianter than you.
So grant me, as is fitting and true,
What you yourself taught me to entreat."
King Saladin, with laughter replete,
Replied with pleasure, in his own way:
"You've embarked upon the right pathway,
And fifty thousand besants, so bright,
I now give to you, with sheer delight.
You shall not lack for this, I decree."
He rose to his feet, graciously and free,
And spoke to Lord Hugh in such a manner:
"To every baron, you shall be the banner,
And I shall go along with you, my friend."
"Sir," spoke the King, "grant him and me this night,
The means to purchase freedom for this lord."
Promptly, they commenced giving, in one accord,
The admirals, gathered all around,
Until the entire ransom was found,
And there remained a surplus, laid out,
Thirteen thousand besants, no doubt.
So much was promised and freely given.
Then, Lord Hugh wished to be forgiven,
To depart from the realm of pagans' reign.
"Yet you shall not part," the King made plain,
"Not until you receive, my friend so dear,
The remaining sum they pledged, clear.
For we will take those golden besants all,
From my treasury, without a fall."
He instructed his treasurer forthwith,
To give the besants to Lord Hugh, a swift gift,
And then collect them from those who vowed.
The treasurer weighed the gold, avowed,
And presented them to Count Sir Hugh.
He hesitated, unsure what to do,
Unwilling to accept the treasure's gain,
Preferring to redeem his people's pain,
Those imprisoned in sorrow's dark hold,
By the Saracen barons, strong and bold.
But when Saladin heard of this intent,
He swore an oath, potent and vehement,
By his powerful Mawmet's name,
That they would not be ransomed, the same.
Hugh, upon hearing this decree,
Boiled with anger, yet he could not see,
A way to plead with the King once more,
Since Saladin had sworn the oath for sure.
He dared not provoke the King's disdain,
After such a solemn, binding claim.
Instead, he ordered his ten comrades, bold,
The path to their homeland, they would behold.
Yet he remained there, upon that shore,
For eight more days, in festivities galore,
Feasting with joy, in splendid array,
Before departing from that land one day.
Then he requested safe passage's permit,
To traverse the enemy's land, admit.
Saladin granted it, under his command,
Providing a great escort, a noble band,
Fifty followers, from his own domain,
Guiding them through without strife or stain,
Without a battle or a contentious fray,
They returned homeward, on their way.
The Prince of Galilee, he too returned,
But for his people, his heart yearned,
Left behind, their fate unkind,
No means of salvation could he find.
Grief weighed heavy, upon him it hung.
So, he reached his homeland, still quite young,
With just those ten comrades, no more to seek,
He shared the riches, without being meek,
That he had brought back from afar,
And none among them received a spar.
They prospered, each one, bold and hale.
Dear sirs, this tale I now unveil,
Among the good-hearted, it finds its place,
But to the wicked, it's an empty space,
For they'll comprehend it not, my friends,
Like casting jewels to swine's dead ends.
They shall trample upon the precious lore,
Deeming it worthless, nothing more.
They shall not understand nor know,
And anyone who tries to bestow,
Such a tale upon their ignorant wit,
Shall be trampled down, just as fit,
And held in utter disregard, unfit.
But those who seek to understand this tale,
Shall find two lessons without fail,
Worthy of honor in their heart's core.
First, to grasp how a Knight is bore,
Such that the world doth him admire,
Guarding all, he never tires.
For without fair Knighthood's might,
Lordship would have but feeble light.
It safeguards Holy Church with care,
Protects from ill-doers, just and fair,
Upholding right and justice's reign,
For this, I praise with no disdain.
Those who do not love Knighthood's grace,
Are like those who'd steal the sacred space,
The chalice upon God's altar stands.
See how it stands for righteousness' demands,
Defending all in its embrace.
Without such Knights, there's little grace.
For all would be ensnared, I fear,
By Saracens and those unclear,
Folk of devilry's wicked law,
Seeking to make our faith withdraw.
But Knights, they fear and they revere,
So, we should hold them precious, near,
With honor, worship, and due respect,
Rising to meet them, I direct.
Shame upon those who grudge or hate,
Those who hold such Knights in debate.
For I declare, with words so clear,
Knights have the right, without veneer,
To carry weapons, armor bright,
And enter holy church with light,
When they wish to hear the Mass,
No evil one shall impede their pass.
To protect the worship of Mary's Son,
And the sacred sacrament, second to none.
Should anyone dare to speak a slight,
The Knight may justly defend with might.
There's more that must be said today,
Do what is right, come what may,
This, Knights are bound to uphold.
If they seek honor, as foretold,
This lesson, they must truly grasp.
I boldly state, without a gasp,
If they follow their Order's call,
None shall obstruct, be it great or small,
Their path to Paradise, to stand tall.
I've shared this wisdom with you, my friend,
To honor Knights, until the end,
Above all others, with due respect,
Except the priest, whom we protect,
Presiding over God's sacrament,
And the feast where His love is sent.
This tale of Prince Hugh, I've relayed,
A valiant and wise man, portrayed,
Praised by Saladin, his foe turned friend,
For valor and deeds, without end,
In his pursuit of righteous cause,
For good gain lies in moral laws.
In Latin, I've read, it's truly expressed,
Good deeds lead to a good end, professed.
So, let's pray for our own ending day,
To the One who doesn't fade away,
That when we reach life's final bend,
We find eternal joy without end,
Reserved for those who walk the righteous way.
And let's remember the author today,
May he dwell with Jesus, eternally,
In the love of Mary, blissfully.
Now, one and all, we say, "Amen,"
As we conclude the Ordination of Chivalry.
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