It is difficult for us to imagine Elizabethan warfare. Our conceptions are largely construed from a conglomeration of novels and movies. Works like Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe, Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur, and Mel Gibson’s Braveheart, all contribute to the modern understanding of the knight and gentlemen of Elizabethan England. They invigorate the mind and exalt bravery and honor. Certainly, works like these reveal a great deal of truth. Chivalry and honor were indeed crucial aspects of Elizabethan warfare. However, if we are not careful, our imagination will transform a historical period into a fairy tale. The grand ideas will become a reality void of human struggle and desire. To avoid this pitfall, we need to look to primary documents. In this paper, I will examine several pieces on warfare and honor written by authors from the Elizabethan period. Then, I will contrast these views with Falstaff’s famous monologue in The First Part of King Henry the Fourth. When viewed together, we can achieve a better understanding of Elizabethan honor, a view which balances the grand and the human.

The first and foremost facet of Elizabethan honor is religion. Faith was an inseparable part of Elizabethan life. Although sixteenth and seventeenth century England continually wavered between Catholicism and Protestantism, religion was central to political and personal decisions. In knighthood, we see a special consideration for religion. Sir William Segar, Queen Elizabeth’s Garter King at Arms, wrote extensively on the important aspects of a knight and gentlemen (Hodgdon 334). In his Honor Military and Civil, he writes, “First it behooveth him [knight] to fear God, and with all his power to maintain and defend the Christian faith” (336). This statement is at the top of Segar’s list of knightly attributes, showing the importance of faith in Elizabethan warfare. During this period, the state and church were beginning to separate; nonetheless, they still held abundant influence over each other. It was no different for the knight. His duty to fighting for his state was directly connected to his faithfulness as a believer. “[A knight ought] to love God, and be loyal to his Prince” (Segar 337). An honorable Gentleman fought for God and state. Consequently, the Elizabethan knight had a strong regard for a strict moral code. This code was largely established and maintained by religious belief. Throughout numerous primary texts, virtue and morality are central requirements for a gentlemen and knight. This created a culture which valued honesty, sincerity, and bravery, as well as condemned lewd women, drunkenness, and sloth.

Another defining aspect of Elizabethan honor and warfare was a regard for classical tradition. Emerging from the European Renaissance, Elizabethan England was alive with the classics. Greek and Roman philosophy and history occupied the minds of many English scholars and playwrights. In addition, classical ideas and history influenced military operations. This is evident in Matthew Sutcliffe’s ordinances. Within a volume of ordinances for the practice, proceedings and laws of arms, Sutcliffe compares the established guidelines with ancient examples. He uses Greek and Roman military practices to justify and support the current laws of warfare. This consideration for classical warfare contributes to a heightened view of war. The Greeks fought with the Olympians in mind, and the Romans fought for the state. A combination of these motivations fits perfectly into the Elizabethan mindset of God and state. As Classical art and literature returned as the standard of intellectual excellence, the grandeur and dutiful nature of classical warfare influenced Elizabethan ideas of honor.

Selflessness was a surprising characteristic of the ideal Elizabethan knight. Barnaby Rich, in his A Pathway to Military Practice, writes, “A Captain should be loving and comfortable to his company, and as he is to correct and punish them for their faults, so he is to commend and encourage them in their well doings” (342). An important aspect of military excellence was a concern for others, charity. Although this was a tactic to inspire a dynamic followership, it went deeper than evoking results. This love was to pour forth from a heart filled with the love of God. Again, we see religion shaping military practice. Leaders, in Rich’s case Captains, were to imitate Christ by caring for their men. However, this does not imply a spineless warfare or character. Segar writes that knights ought to be “inclined to severity than softness” (336). Nonetheless, this severity does not equate a lack charity or respect. The correct balance of these seemingly opposed attributes is the birthplace of honor.

In stark contrast to the previous mentioned characteristics of Christian virtue and honor, Shakespeare’s Falstaff defies a culture. Lazy, cowardly and selfish, Falstaff is the opposite of Elizabethan virtue. When sobriety called, Falstaff drank more. When ambition called, he kept his sloth. When repercussions arrived, he lied with ease. When the responsibility of leading men into battle and defending the crown came to his door, he swindled his way into a profit and faked his way to glory. Although his behavior is sometimes amusing, Falstaff is largely an unsavory and untrustworthy man. Certainly, he does not embody the value of an Elizabethan Gentleman.

However, Shakespeare uses Falstaff in a very particular manner, specifically Falstaff’s monologue concerning honor:

 

“Can honor set to a leg? No. Honor hath no skill in surgery, then? No. What is honor? A word. What is in the word ‘honor’? What is that ‘honor’? Air. A trim reckoning! Who  hath it? He that died o’ Wednesday. Doth he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. Tis   insensible, then? Yea, to the dead. But will it   not live with the living? No. Why?  Distraction will not suffer it. Therefore I’ll none of it. Honor is a mere scutcheon. (V. I.   130-137.)”

 

In this brilliant catechism, Falstaff attacks the value of so called honor. He argues that honor can do nothing practical for an individual. It won’t save a soldier in battle, but it can certainly get him killed. In addition to challenging the worth of honor, he even challenges its existence. Falstaff asks if the dead care about honor. If a knight died in battle, society viewed his sacrifice as the epitome of honor. However, Falstaff points out that the knight is still dead. Honor doesn’t mean anything to him now. It is only a word that society uses to justify the death of many and the sacrifice of others. His rhetorical question about the dead knight argues that honor is a meaningless and empty word. Falstaff claims that honor is only a euphemism for death in the battlefield. And if that is what honor really means, Falstaff want “none of it” (V. I. 136).

This monologue is so important because it challenges societal perceptions of honor. Falstaff’s cynical and realist view of war is several hundred years before its time. Up until World War I, the pageantry of war was of great importance. Even Napoleon and his army, on the edge of the modern era, rode with flamboyant colors and horses. However, WWI caused unprecedented amounts of killing and destruction. The world had never seen such combination of technology and war. It was the War to end all wars. With mustard gas choking men and long distance artillery leveling entire towns, war lost its grandeur. It was stripped of its pomp and prestige. After the war concluded, we can see this shift exemplified in works like T.S. Elliot’s The Waste land.

What is remarkable is that Falstaff is stripping war of its honor. Shakespeare is doing what Elliot will do four hundred years later. He is reminding the audience that war is deadly and brutal. He is warning us that we should not romanticize something as ugly as man killing man. Although we don’t see a large societal shift until the early twentieth century, soldiers have always wrestled with honor and despair. We should not glamourize war, but we also should not fall into the hopelessness of despair.

The Elizabethan period is not immune to this struggle. Although we are quick to romanticize knights, they too went through the same doubts as Falstaff. Yes, they embraced chivalry, honor and faith, fighting for God and their King. However, war was still ugly. People died. Mothers mourned. Wives grieved. Therefore, when we consider Elizabethan warfare, we must maintain an equilibrium. We must embrace the honor that defined an era and acknowledge the sad realities of war.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Works Cited:

 

Shakespeare, William. The First Part of King Henry the Fourth. Ed. Barbara Hodgdon. Boston:     Bedford/St. Martin’s, 1997. Print.

Hodgdon, Barbara, ed. The First Part of King Henry the Fourth. By William Shakespeare. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 1997. Print.

Segar, Sir William. Honor Military and Civil. The First Part of King Henry the Fourth. By             William Shakespeare. Ed. Barbara Hodgdon. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 1997. 336-      337. Print.  

Sutcliffe, Matthew. The Right Practice, Proceedings, and Laws of Arms. The First Part of King     Henry the Fourth. By William Shakespeare. Ed. Barbara Hodgdon. Boston: Bedford/St.          Martin’s, 1997. 337-341. Print.

Rich, Barnaby. A Pathway to Military Practice. The First Part of King Henry the Fourth. By          William Shakespeare. Ed. Barbara Hodgdon. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 1997. 341-      344. Print.