Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Philosophy of Duties - Chivalry in The Old South
Philosophy of Duties - Chivalry in The Old South
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide
range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and
facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at
https://about.jstor.org/terms
The Johns Hopkins University Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and
extend access to The Sewanee Review
IN Malory's LesaysMorte
school, Sir Ector over the Darthur, which southerners read in
body of Launcelot?that
epitome of knightly virtues: "Thou was the mekest man and
the jentyllest that ever ete in halle emonge ladyes, and thou
were the sternest knyght to thy moral foo that ever put spere
in the reeste." This medieval ideal combined attitudes that
might seem incompatible but were discretely necessary as
well as admirable. Its significance, as C. S. Lewis cogently
observes in "The Necessity of Chivalry," lies in the double
demand it makes on human nature: "It taught humility and
forebearance to the great warrior because everyone knew how
much he needed that lesson. It demanded valour of the ur
bane and modest man because everyone knew he was likely
as not to be a milksop."
Gentleness implies a sympathy for others that avoids con
temptuous condescension. Its spirit is of "there, but for the
grace of God, go I." Educated southerners, in describing the
men they most admired, drew upon their favorite ancient au
thors, whom they read in accordance with their own Chris
tian sensibility. In so doing, they combined romantic flour
ishes with tough-minded realism. When?however improb
ably?college professors regularly assigned Ovid to their stu
dents, they were following medieval practice. For during the
Middle Ages the exponents of chivalry had turned to Ovid
as well as Virgil to support their notions of courtly love. That
neither Virgil nor Ovid intended his work to be read in a chi
valric spirit is beside the point. Some such questionable read
ing influenced southerners, especially those who read him in
cleaned up, bowdlerized translations. And if southerners
learned from Ovid and his medieval admirers that they ought
? 2000 by Eugene D. Genovese
theless ring true. One may suffice. Before the war he hosted
a party to which he invited a visiting Yankee, known to be
antislavery and a Republican. Another guest, a hotspur im
properly instructed in the rules of respect, abused the Yankee
verbally and then challenged him to the field of honor. Ashby
intervened. A Virginia gentleman did not countenance dis
courtesy toward his guests. He regarded any such insult as
directed at himself. Ashby, whose skill with weapons approxi
mated his skill with horses, insisted that he be the one to
accept the challenge. The young hotspur, apparently in his
?ups but not suicidal, beat a discreet retreat.
Turner Ashby emerged as the ideal southern chivalric war
rior: the fierce but gentle knight who would lead men into
battle but protect weak or wronged men as readily as he
would protect women. According to testimonials from all
over the South, Ashby's life did embody the highest ideals of
southern chivalry. Taxed with no youthful excesses, he lived
without fear and without reproach: pious, moral, gallant,
honorable. A veritable modern knight. A legend in his own
time. Whether Ashby and those who tried to emulate him
should be judged saints may be left to God. That they repre
sented the hope of a proud and determined people for a great
southern future should nonetheless be clear.
A debate among twentieth-century conservatives over the
relative merits of Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson, and
Nathan Bedford Forrest illuminates certain features and con
sequences of the chivalric ideal in the Old South and in our
own time. Allen T?te, who wrote wildly inaccurate but re
markably acute biographies of Jefferson Davis and Stonewall
Jackson, planned to write one on Lee. He gave up. The more
he studied Lee's career, the more disgusted he became. For
T?te, as for Andrew Lytle, Lee sacrificed the South's chance
for victory by fighting a gentlemen's war in the great chivalric
tradition. The war, T?te and Lytle argued, was not a gentle
men's war but a war of a new type: a people's war that re
quired revolutionary ruthlessness toward civilians as well as
soldiers. Jackson and Forrest, like Grant and Sherman, knew
the North, laid bare the nature and extent of a chivalric tra
dition intended to temper the culture of a modern people.
Those educated southerners who read medieval history and
literature knew something of the checkered relation of the
tournaments to Christianity. Long before Renaissance hu
manists like Petrarch sneered at the tournaments as absurd
and pointless, the Roman Catholic Church had roundly con
demned them?roundly but not effectively, if we may judge
by the indisputable evidence of their growing popularity and
the periodic repetition of the condemnations. In the eyes of
the church, the tournaments, breeding a cult of violence, in
vited the commission of every one of the seven deadly sins,
and, in truth, unlike later imitations, medieval tournaments
were often murderous.
The church had itself to blame. Its noble work in promoting
the Truce of God and Peace of God to curb feudal warfare
also curbed the income and sport of the knights, who?ro
mance aside?largely lived off violence and plunder. With
warfare reduced, the tournaments served as virtually indis
pensable schools for military training and displays of prowess.
Descriptions of the early tournament battles read very much
like those of actual knightly warfare: bloody as well as rau
cous, marked with corpses and maimed bodies. And they pro
vided a marvelous opportunity for the settlement of personal
scores in a manner not merely legal but in accord with reign
ing mores.
The tournaments slowly softened with the general softening
of late medieval society, and in the end they contributed to
the spread of chivalry. Notwithstanding much strutting in
front of the ladies, the tournaments promoted the evolving
knightly virtues of largesse, courtesy, and honesty together
with physical prowess. Over time the element of play crowded
out the murderously martial, but something of the old spirit
of feudal warfare lingered. In the United States tournaments
were southern events. The North had its own, but no one
thought them comparable in extent, spirit, or significance. For
southerners the tournaments recaptured the original mean
ing of chevalier as mounted warrior.
Virginia led the South and the United States in lavish medi
eval-style tournaments, with South Carolina not far behind.
The most celebrated were held at the Virginia Springs, at
which the elite from across the South congregated every sum
mer for extended family vacations. Amid ladies and lances,
hounds and hunters, one tournament followed another at
those celebrated spas. The knights rode at a ring instead of
each other and wore bright silk instead of shining armor, but
otherwise they were as close as possible to their medieval
models. The more fashionable ladies dressed in the medieval
spirit, with appropriate sleeves, bodices, and skirts. George
James, the novelist who served as British consul in Virginia,
remarked that the tournaments primarily provided an oc
casion to display horsemanship and to collect and entertain
lovely ladies.
But they did more than that. If the medieval tournaments
served as military training schools, the southern reinforced
the regional martial spirit. Yes, the "knights" rode at the ring
rather than at each other, but the ring was no easy conquest.
A young man had to practice all year round. To prevail and
to honor his lady, he had to perform perfectly. Riding at full
speed, he had to lift the ring without jarring the hook on
which it rested. Thomas Roderick Dew and Nathaniel Bever
ley Tucker, among other prominent Virginians, delivered the
ceremonial orations. Speaking seriously to the young men
and their ladies, Dew spelled out the significance of the medi
eval ritual for modern southerners. He charged the southern
"knights" to remember that knighthood had grown out of the
Dark Ages, which failed to recognize the rights of woman
hood, and that it was created "to arrest the downward pro
gress of civilization; that all true knights must be honorable,
courteous, liberal, clement, loyal, devoted to woman, to arms,
to religion." Before we dismiss those words as so much piffle,
we should recall that Dew, among others, was engaged in a
generally successful campaign to provide high-quality acad
emy and college education for southern women.
The tournaments spread westward with the migration of
the gentry. Tallahassee, Florida, celebrated Washington's