The Royal Armoury
If the Prado is surpassed by one or two other galleries, Madrid can boast a collection of arms and armour which is eclipsed by no other. The Imperial Armoury of Vienna can alone be compared with this magnificent storehouse of the triumphs of a forgotten craft, the inception of which is due to Philip II. The Emperor Charles, Lord of Germany and Italy, was able to command the services of the greatest armourers of his own or any age. By stimulating the rivalry of the famous Colmans of Augsburg and the not less celebrated Negrolis of Milan, he brought the armour-smith’s art to its highest pitch of development—and this, too, at a time when new tactics and artillery seemed likely to drive it for ever from the field. The reign of Charles marks the zenith of the craft. The sons of Vulcan ranked among the most admired artists of their time, and the most eminent exponents of the sister arts were proud to embellish and to wait upon the works of their hands.
Yet it was to supply the needs of no mere dilettante that the forges of Augsburg and Milan were kept glowing, that their anvils re-echoed unceasingly with ringing blows. Charles was a mighty War Lord. He used his armour in the tented field, his keen blade was waved aloft in the van of armies; and in times of peace, he yet loved to surround himself with the pomp and circumstance of glorious war. And when he laid aside the helmet for the monk’s cowl, he left his son the finest martial equipment any monarch had ever boasted before or since.
Less of a soldier than his father, Philip II. was not slow to recognise the intrinsic value of the heritage. He ordered a house to be built specially for its reception, thus forming the foundation of a collection, which was added to from year to year by him and his successors. The manufacture of defensive armour practically ceased at the close of the seventeenth century, and the spoils of war became, alas! rarer in the course of the next hundred years. In the uprising against the French in 1808, the Armoury was plundered by the populace in their frantic hunger for weapons against the detested invader, and a year or two later the collection suffered considerably at the hands of the Rey intruso.
In the forties, a complete re-arrangement took place by order of Queen Isabella II. A catalogue was issued in 1849, which was useful enough in its way, and made the priceless treasures it enumerated known to the world. But it displayed little critical or antiquarian skill, and perpetuated a score of picturesque and grotesquely misleading attributions. Different pieces were labelled as the sword of Bernardo del Carpio, the falchion of the Cid, the bit of Don Roderic, the helmet of Boabdil, the cuirass of Garcilaso de la Vega, etc. Doubtless in course of time the battle axe of Amadis de Gaul, the horn of Roland, and Mambrino’s helmet would have found their way into the catalogue. Luckily King Alfonso XII., soon after his accession, entrusted the collection to an antiquary of the new school, the late Count of Valencia de Don Juan. Years of labour and research, interrupted by a disastrous fire, resulted in a complete and admirable re-organisation and classification, and in the publication in 1898 of a catalogue which has conferred permanent lustre on the reputation of the erudite compiler.
The collection is in no sense national. Spain, a country famed, from the time of the Romans, all over Europe, for the excellence of its sword-blades and the martial temper of its people, is hardly represented in this knightly arsenal. The major portion of the exhibits proceeded from Italian and Bavarian workshops. Historically the collection is less valuable than our ill-arranged armoury at the Tower. It includes few pieces anterior to the last years of the fifteenth century, and none at all of the fourteenth. The student comes here to view not the evolution, but the highest expression of the armourer’s craft. Those who have the time will of course examine the exhibits piece by piece in the order they are described in the admirable but decidedly bulky catalogue to which I have referred. Those who regard the great armour-smiths as great artists—and such they were—will prefer to examine their works separately and so to familiarise themselves with the technique and style peculiar to each.
Koloman Colman, surnamed “Helmschmied,” was the greatest of the famous Augsburg family. Of the many superb suits he made for Charles, no fewer than seven are in the Royal Armoury. The earliest of these (numbered A. 19) may be identified by the monogram K. D. stamped boldly on the pike-guard of the left shoulder. The letters stand for Karolus Dux, the wearer being at that time (about 1514) only Duke of Burgundy and heir to the crowns of Spain. The suit belongs to the older, more graceful style of the fifteenth century, but the tendency to exaggeration, which, later on, became so pronounced, is seen in the size of the shoulder-guards or pauldrons and of the shoes or sollerets. Every part of the body is protected by plates of steel, except the throat, the armpits, and the space between the tassets or thigh-guards, which are defended with chain-mail. The well-shaped helmet is of the close-fitting armet type, composed of several pieces. The breastplate is ridged down the middle, and decorated with the engraved collar of the Golden Fleece. The combs or elbow pieces are beautifully made, and over the right armpit is one of the pretty round pieces called rondels or palettes. This is missing on the left arm, where the huge pike-guard or pauldron covers the whole shoulder and left breast. Note the detachable lance-rest, engraved with the armourer’s mark and the Double Eagle. The decoration of the suit is chaste and tasteful, the borders of the various pieces being adorned with diamond-shaped reliefs. In itself light and elastic enough for wear in the field, the suit could be strengthened and supplemented at will for the tilt and tournament. The extra pieces are shown on a separate mounted figure (A. 26). The enormous arm-guards are, of course confined to the left or exposed side. Heavy clumsy pieces such as these left less opportunity for a display of the smith’s skill than the barding or horse-armour. This is singularly beautiful and was the work (says the learned author of the catalogue) of Daniel Hopfer, who often assisted Colman. The plates are gilded and etched with devices of the Golden Fleece, the Rose, and the Pomegranate. Hopfer is also credited with the curious concave target to be screwed to the shoulder at tournaments (A. 37), which is trellised or divided by intersecting ridges to break the point of an enemy’s lance. The spaces are engraved with much skill with herons attacking an eagle, which clutches one in its talons. If this, as it seems to be, is an allusion to the alliances promoted by Francis I. against the Emperor after the Treaty of Madrid, it shows that the shield must have been made long after the suit.
The horse-armour of the harnesses (A. 37-38), on the contrary, seems to have been made for the Emperor Maximilian, and were etched by Burgmaier, a celebrated engraver of his time. They are most elaborately decorated. The ear-coverings of the one are shaped like rams’ horns; and the poitrel (or breastplate) is embossed with grotesque faces. The crupper-plates are decorated with compositions representing Biblical episodes—David killing Goliath and Samson slaying the Philistines. If the second suit belonged to the mighty Maximilian, the forehead-plate must have been added later, as it bears the motto “Plus Oultre,” first adopted by Charles.
We come next to the five harnesses made between 1519 and 1539 for the Emperor by the Augsburg firm. They are alike decorated with ornamental bands in the direction of their greatest length and exhibit little difference in design. Two, however, are distinguished by the ugly lamboys or bases, a kilting of armour introduced about this time to satisfy the craze for novelty and extravagance. One of these is called the oak-leaf suit, from the predominant device in the ornamentation. It is Helmschmied’s own work—probably about 1520. The various pieces are distributed over three separate figures (A. 49-56-57). The breastplate becomes globose, the rondels are replaced on both shoulders by the less graceful pike-guards. No less than six extra pieces are shown that could be attached to the helmet. Though we may regret the departure from the elegant simplicity of the older style, our admiration is excited by the exquisite skill displayed in the articulation of the gorget and the bases—made as flexible as if they were of silk. Their plates are detachable, and beneath the steel kilt were worn breeches of the same metal, wonderfully laminated and allowing the utmost freedom to the limbs. The bands common to all the suits exhibit a great variety of detail. Griffins, amorini, nymphs, grotesques, heraldical devices, flowing scrolls, floral emblems, hunting scenes, are all introduced and interwoven with an ingenuity only exceeded by the delicacy of their execution. The helmet at A. 57 is lightly and beautifully relieved with the figures of Centaurs and serpents fighting.
Another beautiful headpiece, of the Burgonet type, is shaped like a dolphin’s head, and blackened and damascened. It is no doubt an example of Hopfer’s skill. The same hand may be traced in the decoration of the armet of the suit numbered A. 75. The reinforcing piece, in the form of an eagle’s head and beak, was in the possession of Sir Richard Wallace, and by him given to his Catholic Majesty.
Helmschmied, who, as Count de Valencia has proved, visited Spain in 1525, died in 1532. The last harness he made for the Emperor (A. 108) illustrates a transition in the fashion of armour. The tassets or hip-plates now extend down to the knee, and tend to assume the “lobster-tail” form as worn by Cromwell’s Ironsides.
Desiderius Colman lacked the genius of his father. On the Cornucopia suit (A. 115-117), so called from the emblem predominating in the decoration, we recognise a close and successful imitation of Helmschmied’s work. The vertical bands were insisted upon by the Emperor, as they apparently added to his height. The figure, A. 164, looks as if he had stepped out of Titian’s picture at the Prado. It is made up of the harness he wore at the battle of Muhlberg in 1547. The pieces are inlaid with gold and delicately etched. Desiderius made this armour in 1544, and immediately after began work upon a suit for Prince Philip, according to designs supplied by Don Diego de Arroyo. The harness differs little from those worn by the Emperor. It is furnished with “bases” and with very flexible articulated leg-armour. The genouillères or separate knee-plates disappear, but the graceful rondels at the armpits, and coudes or elbow pieces are retained. On the next figure is shown a very fine tilting helm in three pieces, and next to this again, a headpiece of the “morion” type fluted and delicately etched.
The suit numbered A. 217-A. 230 should be familiar to visitors to the Prado. Philip, as heir apparent, is shown wearing it in Titian’s picture (No. 454) and by Rubens (No. 1607). The Count of Benavente is represented in it by Velazquez (1090). Designed by Arroyo, the harness, which is composed of more pieces than any other in the collection, was made in 1549. The history of Philip’s magnificent armour (A. 239-A. 242) as related by the Count de Valencia, is of some interest. Hitherto Colman’s superiority to other armourers of the time had been acknowledged only as regarded field and tilting armour—the plainer and tougher work, in short. Burning to eclipse his Milanese competitors in their own line and to produce a harness of the most ornate character, Colman looked about for an assistant and found one in Georg Sigman, an artificer of skill, whom the municipality of Augsburg had hitherto refused to enrol as a master of his craft. Colman promised his powerful influence to the aspirant, and together they turned out the fine suit we see. The cuirass and all the pieces, except the jambs, coudes and vambraces, are composed of overlapping plates. The decoration is tasteful, consisting of longitudinal bands of blackened steel, etched with grotesques and foliage. The coudes are embossed and gilded with female figures upholding the order of the Golden Fleece, attended by warriors. The genouillères are decorated with masks and satyrs. Note the little brayette at the meeting of the limbs, a piece, stupidly enough, rarely shown in English collections. The helmet or burgonet is richly chased with classical compositions, with cartouches, wreaths, and foliage. Upon it the name of Colman and the date 1552 are stamped in full, with the initials and mark of his collaborator.
The spirit of rivalry, of which this noble panoply is the offspring, is expressed very plainly on the shield (A. 241) attached thereto. It is circular, of one piece, blackened, and embossed. Round the boss runs a laurel wreath, with the name of the maker and the date. On the surface are disposed four medallions, encircled by wreaths and designed respectively with allegorical representations of Strength, Victory, Wisdom, and Peace. The intermediate space is lavishly adorned with figures, masks, and foliage, and cartouches. Less skilfully executed are the designs round the rim, where Colman has presumptuously symbolised his supposed triumph over his Milanese competitor by a composition in which a bull overthrows a man bearing a shield marked “Nigrol.” The shield will certainly not bear comparison with the Italian’s work or even with the suit to which it is attached, but in fairness to the German, it must be said that it is evidently unfinished. It wants the grip and the attachments for the lining. The saddle at A. 242 is the finer work, and is adorned with the figure of Aphrodite attended by Cupids. This is the latest specimen of the work of Desiderius Colman preserved to us. He was living in 1575 (says Dr Wendelin Boeheim), but when or where he died we know not.
Little is known of Sigmund Wolf, except that he was living at Landshut in Bavaria as late as 1554, and was the teacher of Franz Grosschedel, another armour-smith of repute. To him is ascribed the harness made for Philip II., and styled the Burgundy Cross suit. The decoration consists in ornamented bands as usual, on the breastplate of one figure being engraved the figure of the Madonna. Another suit by the same maker (A. 243-262) includes no fewer than eighty-five pieces, all of which are not at Madrid. The inordinate number of tilting-pieces show Philip’s fondness for martial exercises. The weight of the armour when complete would have been 37 kilogrammes. The helm is a superb example of Wolf’s skill and the leg armour reveals his eye for symmetry. A manteau d’armes or target is screwed to the left shoulder, as was usual in tilting suits.
The armour with the lobster-tail tassets worn by the ill-fated Infante Carlos, son of Philip II., at the age of thirteen or fourteen, is attributed by Boeheim to Wilhelm von Worms of Nuremberg, and by Valencia (with a greater show of probability, it seems to me) to one of Wolf’s successors and namesakes. It is interesting to remark the difference in size of the left and right pauldrons, a proof that the prince was slightly deformed, as has so often been alleged. It is unfortunate that the armour of our own Richard III. has not been preserved, to set at rest the vexed question of his physical conformation.
The fecundity of Bavaria in great armour-smiths about this time proves the truth of the adage that, given a Mæcenas, Maros will not be wanting. Perhaps the most magnificent suit in the whole armoury is No. A. 270, interesting doubly as having been made for that darling of romance, Dom Sebastian of Portugal, by the gifted craftsman, Anton Peffenhauser of Augsburg.
Boeheim has brought to light several details of this great artificer’s life. Born at Munich in 1525, he was working twenty-two years later in Augsburg, where he married, first Regine Meixner, and secondly twenty years later, Regine Eitler (probably the sister of Susanne Eitler, who married “Helmschmied” in 1565). His skill, and possibly his connection with the Patriarch of the craft, procured Peffenhauser many exalted patrons. In 1566 he was at work on a blackened harness for Kaiser Maximilian II., and ten years later we find him attached to the electoral court of Saxony. Specimens of his work are to be seen at Dresden, Vienna, and St Petersburg. The present suit was made about 1576. A medal preserved at Prague portrays Peffenhauser as a man of mature years, stern and dignified in countenance, with a pronouncedly aquiline nose and full beard.
Dom Sebastian’s armour, says the Count of Valencia, is Peffenhauser’s masterpiece, and places him on a level with, if not above, the greatest German armourers of his time. True, he falls into the mistake of over-ornamentation, and his figures are incorrectly designed, but the composition and embossing are bolder than Colman’s, and, above all, his chiselling is of inimitable precision and clearness. As to the style of decoration, on comparing the capricious combinations of figures, scrolls, and other devices, with the designs published by Hefner Altenech, we are inclined to believe that it was the work of Hans Mielich of Munich (born 1516, died 1573), or some other German artist of the same date and equal ability.
The suit consists of burgonet, breastplates, and backplates, gorget, pauldrons, rere and vambraces, coudes, gauntlets, taces, lobster-tail tassets, genouillères, and jambs. The nails, clasps, and plume-holder are gilded. The burgonet, wrought in one piece, is beautifully embossed with allegorical and mythological figures and with a battle-scene in which elephants are introduced—an allusion, doubtless, to the Portuguese conquests in the Indies. Mythological compositions also adorn the longitudinal bands traversing the suit from neck to ankle. The pauldrons, or shoulder-plates, display a bewildering and marvellous profusion of ornamented work. The elbow-guards are adorned with reliefs of the Cardinal Virtues, the knee-plates with beautiful emblematic groups. Thinking of this suit when still brightly burnished and gilded, one fancies that it was thus arrayed that Milton’s archangels went forth to battle for the lordship of the heavens.
It is now time to examine the productions of the Italian schools of armourership. The most formidable competitors of the Augsburg family were the celebrated Missaglias of Milan, who became known exclusively by the name of Negroli from the year 1515 onwards. Herr Boeheim has found traces of a Tommaso da Missaglia, who was working at Milan in 1415. His son, Antonio, made a suit for the last Aragonese King of Naples. Some specimens of his handiwork are to be seen in Vienna. The members of the family with whom “Helmschmied” and his son were called upon to compete were Filippo, Giacomo, and Francesco Negroli. The suit A. 139, forged at Milan in 1539, and worn by Charles V., is surpassed in purity of outline and excellence of workmanship by no other in the collection. There is no trace here of the decadence of the craft. It is at once distinguished from the German suits by the horizontal direction of the bands. It was originally blackened, so as to show up the gold and silver of the decoration. The morion is surmounted by a laurelled comb, on each side of which run wide bands of gold damascening that meet in front to form a fantastic face in relief. Hence the name “de los mascarones” sometimes given to this harness. The date and maker’s names are stamped on the border. Over the helmet could be placed a re-inforcing piece or “coif” shaped like a serpent with scales of gold. The breastplate is adorned with a medallion, containing an image of the Virgin. The shoulder, elbow, and knee pieces all deserve close examination for their admirable enrichment with lions’ heads, scrolls, and foliations.
The skill of the Negrolis must be judged, apart from this suit, by separate pieces of armour. We have, first, the helmet and target presented to the Emperor by the Duke of Mantua in 1533. The former is moulded in the likeness of a human head—said to be Charles’ own—covered with golden curls, and encircled over the brow by a laurel wreath. The beavor is in the form of a curly beard, the lips showing above it. This cleverly executed, but tasteless, helmet bears the name of Negroli, and the date 1533. The target, made to match, has a lion’s head and mane at the boss, and a wide border, where medallions with the Imperial arms are shown upheld by griffins and interwoven amid foliage.
Another Burgonet (D. 30), made for the Emperor by the same hands, forged in one piece and exquisitely damascened, is surmounted by the figure of a recumbent turbaned warrior—emblematic of the Ottoman Empire—whose fierce mustachios are firmly grasped by two female figures, representing Fame and Victory. Far exceeding these pieces in dignity and simplicity of conception, and in vigour and accuracy of execution, is the famous Medusa shield (D. 64) presented to Charles by the Municipality of Milan upon his entrance into the city in 1541. The Gorgon’s head, daringly and vigorously embossed, is super-imposed on the centre of the shield, and confined within a broad laurel wreath. Outside this again are three concentric bands. The first, narrow and richly inlaid with the precious metals; the second, blackened and divided into sections by panels bearing the inscription, “Is terror quod virtus anima e fortuna paret”; the third, damascened like the first, and divided by medallions containing the Imperial insignia. The rim is moulded into the form of a laurel wreath. Negroli’s name is shown on the steel grip. This is considered one of the very finest shields ever forged by an armourer.
The swords (G. 33, 34) are believed to be the work of the same hands. Their middle surfaces and ricassi are inlaid with gold. The hilt of one terminates in a beautiful volute, of the other in a facetted pommel.
The helmet, attributed in the old catalogues to Boabdil (D. 12), issued from the same workshop. It is forged in one piece and could be strengthened by a complete set of re-inforcing pieces for tilt and tournament. Probably it would have interested us more if the old tradition as to its ownership had not been discredited.
Great potentates in the sixteenth century were fond of appearing in Roman garb. Charles V. was the possessor of a suit of armour of this character, presented to him by the Duke of Urbino, and made by Bartolommeo Campi of Pesaro. This armourer, after enjoying the patronage of several crowned heads, served in the army of the Duke of Alba as an engineer, and fell at the siege of Haarlem in 1573. The harness is composed of seven pieces of blackened steel, damascened and ornamented with bronze gilt. The cuirass, a wonderful work of art, is modelled on the muscles of the male breast, and on it is super-imposed the head of Medusa finished off with spiral volutes. At the shoulders are lions’ heads, with fierce rolling eye-balls. The cuirass is fringed with a row of hanging bronze medallions, showing classic heads, masks, and other devices, beloved of the Renaissance artificer. Cothurni with satyrs’ heads at the point, and a Bœotian casque superbly enriched, complete this splendid antique costume.
The work of another eminent Italian artist is to be seen at A. 112. It was presented to Charles by the Duke of Mantua and forged by Caremolo Mondrone of Milan (1489-1543). It possesses an historic interest, as the suit in which the Emperor made his entry into Tunis. Though the decorative work has all but disappeared, the close fit and flowing lines recall the best days of the armourer’s craft.
The next suit (A. 114) also testifies by the extreme delicacy of the azziminia in imitation of Kufic inscriptions, to the wonderful skill of the same artificer.
That the very greatest artists were not unwilling to co-operate in the decoration of arms is attested by the magnificent “Plus Ultra” shield designed by Giulio Romano, who was living in Mantua in those days. It is forged in a single piece of steel and the whole surface is chiselled with an elaborate composition. In the centre is seen the Emperor, in his Roman suit, upholding the Imperial Eagle and standing upright in a vessel, at the prow of which is Fame. Over his head Victory hovers. Hercules, more to the left, shoulders his Pillars, and prepares to follow the Emperor in his onward course, to the obvious consternation of Neptune. Below the boat a river-god is seated near the figure of Africa or America, bound and enslaved. This is certainly one of the most remarkable productions of the armourer’s art anywhere to be seen.
The armour at one time in the possession of Charles and his son is naturally the most interesting in the collection. The suits made for their successors illustrate the decline of the artistic movement. The harness was now worn chiefly for display. The connection between Spain and Bavaria was severed, and the days had long gone when Toledo blades were esteemed the finest weapons the world could produce. The suits made for Philip III., when Infante, by Lucio Piccinino of Milan, is worthy of the earlier period. It is profusely decorated with reliefs and azziminia. The burgonet is embossed with three masks, another appearing in the centre of the breastplate, above a panel containing a figure of Victory and upheld by two male figures. The other pieces (many of which are wanting) were all similarly adorned. The horse’s barding exhibits a similar wealth of ornamentation.
Turned out in Spain itself at the Royal Arsenal of Pamplona in Navarre, in the year 1620, is the armour catalogued under the numbers A. 350-353. This was a suit intended for presentation by Philip III. to the Duke of Savoy, and is lavishly decorated. A curious feature of the next suit, also made in Navarre, is the seven indentations made by the bullets of an arquebus. Each is set with stones. These marks were intended to attest the thickness of the steel, but they do rather the contrary, for the backplate has been completely perforated. We are reminded of Don Quixote’s attempts to satisfy himself of the toughness of his helmet.
At A. 13-20 are shown six charming little suits made for the boy princes, Philip, Ferdinand, and Charles. They are composed of closed helmets, gorgets, cuirasses, and the usual arm-guards. The surface is blued and divided diagonally by foliations between which appear the emblems of Spain and the Golden Fleece.
The suit made for the Infante Baltasar Carlos (1629-1646) is little more than a costly toy, and preserves its gilding and blackening unimpaired. The suits A. 369 and A. 394 are historically interesting, as having been worn in the field by Prince Emmanuele Filiberto of Savoy, the victor of St Quentin, and Don Juan José, natural son of Philip IV., respectively.
The splendidly engraved collar and gorget catalogued as A. 434-441, are now known to portray the siege of Ostend (1601-1604) and battle of Nieuport (1600). The details are executed with marvellous clearness, and reflect the greatest credit on the unknown artificer. The horseman in the centre group on the gorget is probably the Archduke Albrecht, who distinguished himself by his valour in the battle. These pieces were worn over a buff jerkin, such as clothed Cromwell’s Ironsides.
Many detached pieces in this grand collection are as full of interest as the complete harnesses. The sword, G. 21, once thought to be the “Colada” of the Cid, has lost little of its interest now that it has been identified with that equally famous blade, the “Lobera” of St Ferdinand. A part of the cloak in which the sainted king was buried is also shown with his long-necked spurs or “acicates.” Then we have (at G. 13) the heavy weapon of Ferdinand the Catholic, and the sword of state used by the Catholic sovereigns when conferring the accolade. The sword, inscribed with the Great Captain’s name, was presented to him, the Count of Valencia thinks, by some Italian city. The sword numbered G. 30 also belonged to him. And who can gaze without wonderment on the Valencian blade with which Pizarro won for Spain the vast empire of Peru?
From the New World comes a wonderful feather shield, made by the Mexican Indians under the direction of Spanish artists. On a wicker frame are depicted in feathers, mounted on skin, the battles of Navas de Tolosa, Tunis, and Lepanto, and the taking of Granada. In the centre a heron is seen defending its nest against serpents—a composition symbolical of the campaign against heresy. The whole is an extraordinary example of what can be achieved with such apparently impracticable materials.
Included in the collection is a brigantine made for Charles V. composed of hundreds of pieces of steel sewn on leather, making a garment as flexible as a jersey, and yet endowed with extraordinary resisting power.
Older, and from certain points of view more interesting than any of these exhibits, are the Visigothic crowns of Guarrazar, the companions of those in the Cluny museum. These were found one moonlit night in the year 1858 by two peasants, in the bed of a fountain, and only secured with difficulty by the government. Much of the treasure had already come into the possession of the goldsmiths of Toledo, and had been broken up or melted down. It is said to have comprised a beautiful golden dove, which, having been acquired by a jeweller, occasioned him so many qualms of conscience that he at last eased his mind by throwing it into the Tagus. The crowns were the offerings at shrines of King Swinthila and his successors. They consist of hoops studded with gems and dangling from a separate ornament of gold and rock-crystal. From the hoop hang pendants and letters in enamel, making up the inscription, Swinthilanus Rex Offeret. Adjacent are crosses and ornaments of the same period. An antique horse’s bit, ascribed by tradition to Witiza, is believed by the Count de Valencia to date from the Visigothic era.
The collection comprises a superb assortment of swords, beautiful specimens of the famous Toledo blades. Among those of historic interest, I forgot to mention that of Hernando Cortés. The sword of Philip II., numbered G. 47 has a magnificent hilt richly chased, with a spherical pommel. It is no doubt the work of Desiderius Colman, though believed, at one time, to have been designed by Benvenuto Cellini.
Among the trophies are the sword of the Duke of Weimar, taken at Nordlingen in 1634, the arms taken from Francis I. at Pavia, Moorish arms from Tunis, the breastplate of the Elector of Saxony, taken at Mühlberg, swords and standards from Lepanto, and flags taken by the famous Admiral Alvaro de Bazán. The arms belonging to his late Catholic Majesty, Alfonso XII., have also been added to the collection by the Queen Dowager, who well knew the profound interest her august husband took in this superb military museum.