I

Previous

Sul ne sai pas de mentir lart

Walter Map reset ben sa part.

Ipomedon, fo. 82, ll. 29-30.

These words of the author of the Ipomedon were, some years ago, commented upon by Mr. Ward in his valuable Catalogue of Romances in the British Museum, vol. i. He there remarks that the allusion is especially valuable as being the direct ascription, by a contemporary, of the character of romance-writer to Walter Map, and that in apparent connection with the romance most persistently attributed to him—the Prose Lancelot.

The suggestive remarks of Mr. Ward do not appear hitherto to have attracted the attention they deserve. Recently, having occasion to write a brief notice of Walter Map, they came, for the first time, under my notice, and, taken in connection with certain points of the Lancelot study in which I had for some time been engaged, assumed an unexpected importance. It became evident to me that the whole question of the connection of the Ipomedon with Arthurian literature, and the light which the words of the author might throw upon the relation to each other of different forms of the same story, was well worth study; and might eventually be of material assistance in determining the much debated question of the position of ChrÉtien de Troyes in the Arthurian cycle.

In the following pages I propose to examine, first, the exact nature and value of the evidence of the Ipomedon as regards Arthurian tradition; second, its bearing upon the versions of a popular incident in romance—the appearance of a knight at a tournament on three consecutive days, in the disguise of three different suits of armour—especially with relation to the versions of the Prose Lancelot, the Lanzelet of Ulrich von Zatzikhoven, and the CligÉs of ChrÉtien de Troyes.

To begin with the Ipomedon. As is probably known to most scholars, the scene of this story is laid in the south of Europe—Sicily, Calabria, Apulia—and the names of the characters are largely borrowed from classical sources. The poem relates at considerable length the wooing of the Princess of Calabria, known as La FiÈre, by Ipomedon, son of the King of Apulia. (In the second part of the poem the hero’s father is dead, and he is, himself, king.) The lady has made a vow to wed none but the bravest of knights. Ipomedon, disguised as her cup-bearer, wins her love, and at a three days’ tournament, in a varying armour of white, red, and black, wins her hand, but disappears without claiming it, under the pretext that he has not won sufficient fame to satisfy her pride. In the second part of the poem the lady is threatened by an unwelcome suitor, in the person of a hideous giant. Ipomedon, aware of her plight, disguises himself as a fool, and goes to her uncle’s court, knowing that she will send thither for aid. He demands from the king the gift of the first combat that shall offer, which is granted as a mere joke. On the appearance of the messenger sent by La FiÈre—the favourite friend of the princess—Ipomedon claims the fulfilment of the king’s pledge, much to the disgust of the maiden, who will have nothing to do with him at first, but whose confidence he wins by his valiant deeds on the journey, defeats and slays the giant; and hindered from evasion by her gallant cousin, who proves to be his own unknown brother, finally marries La FiÈre, and, we learn, is eventually slain with his brother before Thebes.

The author of this poem calls himself Hue de Rotelande, and says that he lives at Credehulle, which Mr. Ward identifies with Credenhill, near Hereford. After completing the Ipomedon he wrote a sequel, Prothesilaus, which he dedicated to his patron, Gilbert Fitz-Baderon, Lord of Monmouth. This Gilbert, the only one of his family so named, was Lord of Monmouth certainly from 1176 to 1190-91, and may have succeeded to the dignity earlier, as the last mention of his father is in 1165-66; but the payment by Gilbert of a fine for trespassing in the royal forests in 1176 is the first mention we have of him. As in the Ipomedon Hue refers to the siege of Rouen in 1174, it is clear that both his poems fall between that date and 1190, the year of Gilbert’s death, but we cannot date them more exactly.[2] It is, however, certain that he wrote his poems on English ground, consequently it follows as a matter of course that any incident of Arthurian romances to which he may allude must have been known in England at that date.

Now what are the indications of familiarity with Arthurian tradition which we find in the Ipomedon? Setting aside for the present the Three Days’ Tournament, the main subject of our study, we may point out certain other incidents which have attracted the attention of scholars. Professor KÖlbing,[3] in his study of the English versions of the poem, remarks justly that every reader must be struck with the close resemblance between the circumstances under which, in the second part of the poem, Ipomedon undertakes the defence of La FiÈre and the opening of the Bel Inconnu poems.[4] It may be pointed out that while in the first instance the parallel is with the English rather than with the French version, i.e., Ipomedon, like Libeaus Desconus, demands the first combat that shall offer, while Bel Inconnu simply asks that the first request he shall make be granted, the feature that the maiden leaves the court without waiting for her unwelcome defender agrees with the French rather than with the English version: in the latter both depart together. As in all romances of the Bel Inconnu cycle, the messenger is accompanied by a dwarf, who endeavours to induce a more gentle treatment of the knight, and as in all she continues to flout the hero till confuted by his deeds of valour. In the Ipomedon, certainly the conversion is more complete, as she offers the hero her love, if he will renounce the quest and accompany her to her own land. It is impossible to read the Ipomedon and to doubt that the author was familiar with the story of Gawain’s unnamed son.[5]

Again, the seneschal of King Meleager, Cananeus, Caymys, or Kaenius, as his name is variously spelt, with his sharp tongue and overbearing manner, is strongly reminiscent of Sir Kay; and the parallel is further brought out in the encounter with Ipomedon, where that hero thrusts him from his steed, ‘tope over tayle,’ breaking in one version his shoulder-blade, in another his arm.[6] This should be compared with Lanzelet’s joust with Kay, and its result ‘er stach hern Keiin so das im die fÜeze harte hÔ Ûf ze berge kaften und dem zalehaften daz houbet gein der erde fuor;[7] also with Morien,[8] where Arthur reminds Kay of the result of his joust with Perceval—‘Hine stac u dat u wel sceen dat gi braect u canefbeen, ende dede u oec met onneren beide die vote opwerd keren.’

Professor KÖlbing also points out that the position held by Cabaneus, nephew of King Meleager, is analogous to that of Gawain, in the Arthurian cycle (to which I would also add that the name of La FiÈre recalls that of L’Orgueilleuse de Logres in ChrÉtien), and decides that the romance, as a whole, ‘schliesst sich nach tendenz characterzeichnung und handlung diese klasse (i.e. dem artus-kreise) unverkennbar an.’[9] That is, the genre of composition was by 1174-90 so well established that it was freely imitated in romances entirely unconnected with the cycle by subject-matter.

When, therefore, in direct connection with an adventure of which several versions are preserved in the Arthurian cycle—the Three Days’ Tournament—we find the author of the poem excusing himself for somewhat embroidering his tale, and quoting Walter Map as one who practises the same art, our minds naturally turn to the romances of that cycle, and to Map’s reputed connection with Arthurian story.

As is well known, the question as to the share which may rightly be assigned to Walter Map in the evolution of the Arthurian legend is one of the problems of modern criticism. At one time or another, with the exception of the Merlin and the Tristan, all the great prose romances of the cycle, the Lancelot, in its completed form, the Grand S. Graal, Queste, and Mort Artur, have been assigned to him,[10] and till quite recently writers on early English literature did not scruple to accept the tradition. Probably even to-day the majority would name Walter Map as the populariser, if not the inventor, of the Grail legend. Those, however, who are familiar at first hand with the romances in question have long since realised that in their present form they represent the result of a long period of accretion, and have undergone many redactions; they cannot possibly, as they now stand, be held to be the work of any one writer, certainly not of one who took so active and leading a part in public affairs as did Map. Further, his own statement, in the famous words recorded by Giraldus Cambrensis, to whom they were addressed, ‘Multa scripsistis et multum adhuc scribitis et nos multa diximus. Vos scripta dedistis et nos verba,’ with the application that follows, have been held by Professor Birch-Hirschfeld and other scholars to be a direct denial on his part of any literary activity.[11] At the same time we know Map did write, and was interested in romantic and popular tales, further that he had the reputation of being a poet,[12] and the persistence of the tradition connecting him with the Arthurian cycle can hardly be set aside. The question is, do these words of Hue de Rotelande throw any light upon this disputed point? Can we hope by the aid of this contemporary of Map’s to arrive at a conclusion which may assist us in determining the real nature of his contribution to the development of this famous cycle, and will the ascertaining of this fact help us, as the definite establishment of a single fact often does, to solve other problems closely connected therewith? Mr. Ward, when he wrote the article to which I have referred above, expressed a decided opinion on this point; and it appears to me that by following up the lines of research there indicated we shall attain results far more important in themselves, and far more startling in their ultimate effect than he then suspected.

First, let us see exactly what Hue says. The passage in question (which will not be found in the translations) occurs at the end of the first portion of the poem. The author has just been relating how his hero, who is living at King Meleager’s court, in the assumed character of body-servant to the queen, scouts the idea of attending the tournament which is to decide who shall wed La FiÈre of Calabria, loudly expressing his preference for the pleasures of the chase. Each morning he leaves the court before daylight, announcing his departure by loud blasts of the horn; but having reached the forest, where his servant awaits him with steed and armour, he sends his ‘Master,’ Tholomy, to hunt in his stead; and arming himself each day in a different suit of armour, white, red, and black, proceeds to the tournament, where he carries off the prize for valour, unhorsing all the principal knights on either side, even to the king himself, and his valiant nephew Cabaneus. Each evening he returns to the forest, reassumes his hunter’s garb, and with the spoils of the chase won by Tholomy takes his way to the court, where he vaunts the skill of his hounds above that of the unknown knight, and is roundly mocked for his lack of prowess by the ladies. After the third day he leaves secretly, to return to his own land, sending to the king, by the hand of a messenger, the spoils of his three days’ victory. The seneschal, Cananeus, volunteers to bring him back, and is punished for his officious interference, as related above.[13] At the conclusion of this episode, Hue states that he is not lying—at least not more than a little—and if he be ‘’tis but the custom of the day, and all the blame should not be laid upon him, Walter Map is just as bad.’

‘Ore entendez seignurs mut ben

Hue dit ke il ni ment de ren

Fors aukune feiz neent mut

Nuls ne se pot garder par tut

En mendre afere mut suvent

Un bon renable hom mesprent

El mund nen ad un sul si sage

Ki tuz iurz seit en un curage

Kar cist secles lad ore en sei

Nel metez mie tut sur mei

Sul ne sai pas de mentir lart

Walter Map reset ben sa part.’

—P. 82, ll. 19-30.

Now shall we understand this merely as a general allusion, without any special significance, or was there anything in the story which Hue had just been relating which might reasonably be supposed to have brought Map to his mind? Mr. Ward very pertinently draws attention to the fact that this appearance at a tournament on successive days, in different armour, is precisely an adventure attributed to Lancelot, and the Lancelot is the romance most persistently attributed to Map. The parallel to which Mr. Ward refers is that contained in the earlier part of the Prose Lancelot.[14]

Lancelot first appears at Arthur’s court in white armour: he is known as ‘le Blanc Chevalier.’ On his first absence after receiving knighthood he is taken prisoner by the Lady of Malehaut, who detains him in her castle. A tournament, of a very warlike nature, taking place between Arthur and Galehault, the lady releases Lancelot, who, disguised in red armour, performs deeds of surpassing valour. He returns to prison, and on the encounter between the kings being renewed, again appears, this time in black. Finally, he reveals himself to the queen, and tells her that all the feats of arms he has achieved in the characters of white, red, and black knight were undertaken in her honour.

The general resemblance is, as Mr. Ward remarks, too striking to be overlooked; though, as he does not remark, there are certain differences which seem to indicate that the version of the Prose Lancelot has undergone some modification. Thus, there are not three consecutive days, but Lancelot’s appearance in the three characters occurs at widely separated intervals. Further, Mr. Ward does not seem to be aware that this is but one instance out of three in which the same, or a similar, adventure is attributed to Lancelot.

In the latter part of the Prose Lancelot, the section represented by the Dutch translation, we find Arthur holding a tournament, which has been suggested by Guinevere with the view of recalling Lancelot, who has long been absent, to court, and heightening his fame. Lancelot returns secretly, unknown to all but the queen, who sends him a message to come and discomfit the knights who are jealous of him. Lancelot appears in red armour and overthrows them all. The queen demands another tournament in three days’ time, when Lancelot appears as a white knight, with the same result. After this he reveals himself to Arthur.[15]

But the best parallel is that contained in the Lanzelet of Ulrich von Zatzikhoven. Here Lanzelet makes his first appearance at court at a three days’ tournament; the first day dressed in green, the second in white, the third in red; overthrows all opposed to him, including Kay,[16] and takes his departure, without revealing himself.

With these repeated parallels before us, it seems impossible to doubt that when Hue de Rotelande referred to Walter Map, in connection with the tournament episode of Ipomedon, he had in his mind a version of the Lancelot, which also contained such a story, and which was attributed to the latter writer.

But what could this version have been? Certainly not the Prose Lancelot in its present form. As we remarked before, this romance is the result of slow growth and successive redactions, and the two parallels contained in it bear marks of modification and dislocation. In my recent studies on the Lancelot legend[17] I have pointed out that in the process of evolution it certainly passed through a stage in which it was closely connected with, and affected by, the Perceval story. Gradually the popularity of the hero of the younger tale obscured that of the elder; and in the Lancelot, as we now have it, the traces of Perceval influence have almost disappeared from the majority of the printed versions, though interesting survivals are still to be found in certain manuscripts and in the Dutch translation. Now one of the best known adventures attributed to Perceval is that in which the sight of blood-drops on new-fallen snow—caused by a bird having been wounded, or slain, by a hawk—recalls to his mind the lady of his love, and plunges him into a trance; in which he is rudely attacked by Kay, who would bring him by force to court. He retaliates by unhorsing the seneschal with such force that he breaks, in one version both arms, in others, an arm and a leg.[18] It should also be noted that in the Peredur a raven has alighted on the slain bird, and we have the three colours, black, red, and white, recalling the lady’s raven hair, white skin, and crimson lips and cheeks.[19]

Taking into consideration the proved connection existing between the Perceval and the earlier forms of the Lancelot, it would seem most probable that a version of the tournament which included a similar discomfiture of the seneschal would belong to an earlier stage of evolution than one in which Kay did not appear. As I have pointed out above,[20] the Lanzelet version not only includes Kay’s overthrow, but recounts it in words that forcibly recall the Perceval episode.

It also seems probable that it was such a form which was known to the author of the Ipomedon, as he makes the discomfiture of the seneschal Cananeus, whose resemblance to Kay has already been pointed out, follow immediately upon the tournament episode.

So far, then, as the priority of existing versions is concerned, we must, I think, give a verdict in favour of the Lanzelet, though with the reservation that even here there has been, as we shall presently see, a certain modification of the story as known to Hue.

What now do we know of the source of the Lanzelet? From the statement of the author,[21] we learn that the original of this poem was a French book, ‘daz welsche buoch von Lanzelete,’ brought to Germany by Hugo de Morville, one of the hostages who, in 1194, replaced Richard Coeur de Lion in the prison of Leopold of Austria. Thus we know that the French book must have been prior to that date, but so far no one has detected any reference that would enable us to fix the period of composition more accurately. But the character of the romance as we possess it—a collection of episodes, many of them of marked folk-lore character, loosely strung together, and harmonising but ill with each other—makes it highly probable that the constituent parts of the romance had possessed an independent existence prior to being strung together on the slender thread of the hero’s personality. It is therefore perfectly possible that the French source of the Lanzelet was in existence before Hue de Rotelande wrote the Ipomedon; it is more than possible, indeed, as we shall see, a fact of almost certain demonstration—that the adventure of the Three Days’ Tournament had been ascribed to Lancelot, certainly by 1160, and most probably before that date.

In the Didot Perceval, a romance which probably formed part of a very early cyclic redaction of the Arthurian legend, and one in which Lancelot plays a very subordinate rÔle, we find an allusion to ‘le fÌz À la fille À la femme de Malehot,’[22] which seems to suggest that even at that comparatively early stage the incident had undergone the modification familiar to us in the Prose Lancelot. In the result, I think we shall find that it formed one of the first steps in the development of the Lancelot story.[23]

So far as the evidence of the Ipomedon goes it suggests, if it does not absolutely prove, that at the period when that poem was written there was current a story which ascribed to Lancelot the adventures of the Three Days’ Tournament, in a form which, as might be expected in any early Lancelot version, showed traces of the influence of the Perceval, and which was popularly attributed to Walter Map. Of the versions which we now possess, that of Lanzelet best corresponds to these conditions.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page