Knight riders

Higgins makes the connection between motorcycles and shining knights

by Leon Nigrosh

ROAD WARRIORS: KNIGHT RIDERS At the Higgins Armory Museum, 100 Barber Avenue, through May 23, 1999.>

During the 9th and 10th centuries, when Europe was under constant attack by marauding hordes of Vikings, Magyars, and Muslims, most European nobles organized heavily armed, mobile cavalry units. Knights errant (later to be known as free-lancers) roamed the countryside -- loners, seeking adventure, offering fealty to whomever would best compensate them. As time passed, though, and threats from the outside were diminished, the lords returned to their more intimate feudal warfare. This time they set up permanent bands of personal knights, complete with training schools and rankings. In order to be able to identify their own men in the heat of the action, the mounted knights adopted distinguishing insignia, which later became specific heraldic "coats-of-arms."

Although heavily armor-plated individuals mounted on equally heavily armored horses have long since disappeared from the battlefields, their mystique still exists in the minds of many -- particularly today's youth. You have only to turn on the TV and you can watch the daily adventures of the Mystic Knights of Tir Na Nog (a group of Power Rangers of the past), or enjoy the weekly forays of Hercules and Xena, along with The New Adventures of Robin Hood.

And there is no question that "Road Warriors: Knight Riders" at the Higgins Armory Museum makes a strong case for a common bond between the medieval knights of old and the motorcycle riders of today. And this is really the driving force behind the show. It's not just a collection of nifty artifacts, but a serious exploration of the lifestyle and mystique that surrounds two groups of men (and women) who, although separated by five centuries, share many of the same ideals, attitudes, and philosophy.

A display case of mementos contains pictures of Arnold, Marlon, Fonda and Hopper, and even Beavis and Butthead on snarling motorcycles. Betty Boop is riding in a snow dome, next to Jeanne d'Arc on a salt cellar, and a knight-in-shining-armor shoehorn.

Today's motorcycle riders have, almost by default, taken up the knights' mantle as icons of individuality, power, and brotherhood. Although they make up a tiny fraction of this country's population, they often loom large in our collective psyche. A shining knight on a white horse arrives in the nick of time to help keep our kitchens clean. When big business runs into financial trouble, they seek a White Knight to save them from ruin. As was often the case with the knights of yore, today's "one percenters" often get the press and notoriety, but the other 99 percent do good deeds. Knights protected villages and farms, took on religious pilgrimages, and adhered to the chivalric codes and traditions. Many biker organizations hold holiday toy runs for children, raise money for MS, and fight for drunk-driving laws through community and legislative action.

If one object in the current exhibit can singularly capture this centuries' long relationship between knights and motorcycle riders, it is the WWII Canadian Army poster. In it, three army couriers are pictured charging over a foreground hill on their nimble motorcycles while in the clouds behind them we see a templar mounted on a rearing steed. The copy reads, "Canada's new army needs men like you."

To emphasize the role that motorcycles played in the WWII American war effort, Higgins offers us a cherry 1945 Harley-Davidson WLA. This olive drab, 45-cubic-inch, V-twin war-horse could take on just about any terrain. Tens of thousands of these machines came off the Milwaukee production line from 1941 through the end of the war, and continued to be produced for armed forces' use well into the 1950s. Like the example on display, each bike came equipped with leather saddlebags and a scabbard for a Thompson submachinegun. The riders wore leather gauntlets and aviator-type leather helmets with goggles, similar to those shown with the bike.

After the war ended, thousands of these motorcycle jockeys and their comrades-in-arms took their severance pay, bought bikes, and began to tear up the countryside. This youthful exuberance was the foundation for the dramatic growth of American motorcycling in all its forms. As a means of exemplifying this phenomenon, our attention is drawn to the gleaming red and chrome 1996 Harley-Davidson FXSTS Springer Softail. This one was made for comfort, but with an 80-cubic-inch engine, it packs plenty of power, whether the rider is touring on the interstate or just "profiling" around town. Look closely and you might spot some of the custom touches -- like the solo seat, the upswept tailpipes, twin riding lights, and the billet mirrors -- that the owner added to turn this machine into his personal ride.

Standing next to this reworked motorcycle is a suit of 16th-century Italian armor, also personalized to suit the owner. Embellished with lions' heads on the shoulders, this not-too-accurate replica of early Roman armor was later decorated with even fussier ornamentation on the breastplate. Weighing only about 35 pounds, this suit was certainly not built for swordplay but designed strictly for ceremonial use, or more probably, partying.

Partying is something that both knights and bikers could always find time for. A blow-up manuscript replica from the late 15th-century shows the Parade of Contestants, Jousts at St. Inglevert, a depiction of French potter Jean Froissart's description of a famous challenge that occurred earlier in the century. This brightly colored, and highly detailed drawing tells the story of three French knights who challenged all comers. The tournament lasted a week, and the three took on -- and bested -- 36 foreign adversaries. Today, many biker groups attend regional rodeos to participate in the slow races, keg rolling, weenie bites, and sled pulls.

But there is always the need for speed. Driving this point home is a 1998 Ducati 900FE Super Sport. This sleek, aerodynamic, ground-hugging, road rocket is built from light weight, high-tech, carbon fiber, and with its high-revving engine, can blow the doors off of any car it passes. Similar to knightly heraldic costumes, the road and track motorcycle racers wear protective clothing. Instead of chain or plate mail, these riders cloak themselves in bright leathers and easily identifiable designs, like the red, white, blue, and black Italian racing suit by Dainese on display.

Another portion of the exhibition invites comparison between ancient and modern appurtenances. Note the similarities of shape and design that make up a contemporary polycarb helmet and a 16th-century Burgonet full-head steel helmet. Although both purportedly provide protection for the wearer, each severely reduces peripheral vision and cuts down on hearing. The carbon-fiber inserts in the very lightweight Italian racing boots virtually echo the curved-steel lames that make up the Sabaton steel shoe worn by a knight in the 1550s.

A small section of this exhibit is devoted to "Women in the Chivalric and Biker Worlds." In a painting by pre-Raphelite artist E. Blair Leighton (1853-1922), a young woman depicted as the spoils of war trudges forlornly behind a knight in polished armor. Right across from this work is Joan of Arc, an 18-inch-tall bronze sculpture completed in 1890 by Emmanuel Fremiet. This woman is obviously in full command. The same might be said of the photo of Jennifer Buchwald with her lady biker group, "The Moving Violations," as she enjoys touring Martha's Vineyard on a bike so big she refers to it as a "Lazy-Boy on wheels" -- complete with refrigerator.

Fantasy is starkly (and whimsically) evident in Worcester sculptor Donald Howard's Future Corporate Courier. He has boldly resurrected his 1991 vision of a life-size biker dressed in armored leathers astride an altered Honda 250 Rebel, festooned with menacing spikes, which act as protection as he prepares to hurtle through the automobile-clogged urban canyons of the near future.

The final display in this roughly chronological exhibit shows an example of 16th-century horse armor. The German shaffron and saddle plates are gilded and embossed to match the Ritter's own armor. To these mounted warriors, their war horse was as important as their own right-hand. In fact, in France, they were named the destrier. In order to be effective fighters, the riders and horses had to act in unison. It has often been said that a knight was only as good as his horse. The same can be said today, that a biker is only as good as his bike.

After making the rounds of this exhibit it is virtually impossible not to see these two subcultures in a new light. Though some of the myth and mystery has been wiped away, other aspects of the parallel legends have been given new life. Regardless of how you perceive these groups, they have been and will continue to be important cultural influences on our society. n

The museum is open Tuesday through Saturday from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. and Sunday from noon to 4 p.m. Call 853-6015.