Heraldry as art: An account of its development and practice, chiefly in England

by G. W. Eve

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Early Renaissance Architecture in England.

CHAPTER X
Embroidered Heraldry

The romantic associations that embroidered heraldry call to mind, of fair fingers working the devices on battle flags and on knightly surcoats, render it a subject of the utmost fascination, and although its adequate treatment would demand more space than can be devoted to it here, it will still be possible to refer in some measure to an art that, like the heraldry it embodied, touched in one way or another all the life of the Middle Ages and has transmitted no little of its beauty and charm to the work of our own time.

Long before heraldry was formulated noble ladies practised the art and found in it a delightful occupation. Embroidered heraldry is even alluded to in that dim time where myth and history meet, as when the Raven banner of the Vikings, the dread Landeyda, desolation of the land, was woven and embroidered in one noontide by the daughters of Reyner Lodbrock, son of Sigurd.

In England in the sixth century Aldelswitha, a noble Saxon lady, taught the art to some young girls and so formed the first school of art needlework of which we have any record. The four daughters of Edward the Elder were celebrated embroiderers, and there was a constant succession of skilled needleworkers whose names and even many of their notable works were handed down as worthy of remembrance; the altar cloths and vestments, covered with golden eagles, that had been worked by Queen Aelgitha the wife of Canute among many others. And the reputation was not merely a local one, but throughout Europe the praises are recorded of the Opus Anglicum, whose name, from being at first a general one, afterwards acquired a particular technical meaning. The excellence that called forth such universal appreciation continued throughout the mediaeval period, as when in the thirteenth century Pope Innocent III was enthusiastic in its praise. In the development of heraldry embroidery found a congenial subject, and ladies busied themselves in depicting with the needle their husbands’ armorials, as their predecessors had pictured the incidents of their own times, on hallings and banners and emblazoned garments, such employment being a frequent subject of the beautiful illuminations of the painted MSS. which had so much affinity with fine needlework, from which it copied and was itself copied in return.

Ecclesiastical vestments and altar frontals contain much heraldry, and the Syon Cope, that most interesting work of the thirteenth century, contains on its orphreys and borders some sixty coats of arms on round or diamond shaped shields. One of those on the orphreys is shown at Fig. 223, although it is perhaps more curious than beautiful.

Fig. 223.—Arms of Geneville from the Syon Cope.

Among the earliest examples of heraldic embroidery that survive is the surcoat of Edward the Black Prince, no less admirable in its way than the already mentioned shield, and on account of its unique character it is necessarily reproduced again and again. It consists of the arms of the shield translated into terms of embroidery, and if it were but in better preservation a finer model for heraldic work it would be hardly possible to conceive. This is but one of the many splendid heraldic garments of which so little remains, but which are depicted on the monumental effigies with absolute fidelity. Of the latter fact this surcoat is one of the proofs, for its copy on the effigies was made with such accuracy that even the faults of the needlework are there.[2] The embroidery of badges on garments instead of the regular arms was also common, as witness the effigies of Richard II and his Queen, Anne of Bohemia, in Westminster Abbey.

Fig. 224.—Embroidered Cap with badges, Victoria and Albert Museum. Sixteenth Century.

A sixteenth century example of embroidered badges, a cap of fine linen beautifully worked with fleurs-de-lis and roses as the principal motives, is in the Victoria and Albert Museum, and is reproduced in Fig. 224.

Fig. 225.—Altar Frontal in Embroidered Linen, Victoria and Albert Museum.

Another example of embroidered linen (Fig. 225) in the Victoria and Albert Museum, is an altar frontal which is decorated with heraldic motives in appliqué work.

Fig. 226.—Embroidered Badge. Part of the Insignia of Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy. Fifteenth Century.

Some interesting and instructive fragments of embroidery exist in the Museum at Berne, part of the spoil taken from the tent of Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, after the disastrous Battle of Grandson in 1476. Fig. 226 is the badge, the flint and steel, of the Great Burgundian Order of the Golden Fleece, whose insignia are conspicuous in the decoration of the next century in association with the Emperors Maximilian and Charles V. In this instance the steel striker serves as a space for the quartered arms of Burgundy, Limbourg and Flanders. Fig. 227 shows the same arms on what was perhaps part of the bardings, the tournament or other ceremonial drapery of a charger.

Fig. 227.—Heraldic Embroidery. Part of the Insignia of Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy. Fifteenth Century.

Both show admirably how heraldic embroidery should be done, namely, in flat applique strongly designed and simply executed. The sable lions of Flanders are conclusive proofs of how heraldic vigour and decorative distribution may be attained in embroidery.

Towards the end of the sixteenth century embroidery began to be padded into relief, a practice which afterwards developed to a remarkable extent in spite of its inartistic unsuitability to the material and work. It was naturally least offensive in its beginnings, and the shield of Eric XIV, King of Sweden (Fig. 228), is a somewhat exceptionally good example of the heraldry of its time (about 1560). The arms are well-designed, the lions of the fourth quarter, Denmark, being particularly spirited, while the execution is very excellent of its kind.

Fig. 228.—Arms of Eric XIV, King of Sweden. Berne Museum. About 1560.

An instance of domestic embroidery occurs in Fig. 229, where the arms of James I are used as a centre to a design that is, in the main, floral.

Fig. 229.—Arms of James I. Victoria and Albert Museum. Early Seventeenth Century.

Work of the highest heraldic importance must always have been that of the banners, as the very concentration of battle heraldry, but of these, alas! there are no very early examples.

The banners of the Knights of the Garter in St. George’s Chapel were doubtless all embroidered formerly, as that of the Sovereign still is, but they have for long been done in an inferior way, even as the painted stall plates superseded their enamelled predecessors.

Of the various forms of flag that were in use in the day of the tournament and even survived, at funeral ceremonies, until comparatively modern times, the principal were the Banner, the Pennon and the Standard. The Banner, sometimes called the Great Banner, was square in shape and bore the arms of its lord exactly as they were borne on his shield, i.e., occupying the whole surface. Its use was confined to such knights as were especially privileged, and who were therefore called Knights Bannerets, and to nobles of higher rank. Although the banner as such bore the whole arms of the shield, other large and square flags, even when charged with badges, were sometimes called by the same name when employed for a special purpose, as, for instance, the banner of the Red Dragon of Cadwallader that was borne at Bosworth Field.

The Pennon was a long pointed flag, which was borne by a knight and was charged with his arms or device. The cutting off of the tail of the pennon, leaving the flag square, conferred on its owner the right to have a banner thenceforward, which ceremony of creating a Banneret always took place on the field of battle and under the royal banner displayed. The Standard, properly so-called, was also a pointed flag, though banners were sometimes called standards when they were flown from a mast that was either fixed in the ground or was supported on a solid platform or wagon. From this comes the inaccurate custom of describing the Royal Banner as the Royal Standard. The Standard always, in England, had the national emblem, the Cross of St. George, next the staff, and the remainder of the flag was of the owner’s colours, and was charged with his badges and motto (Fig. 230).

Fig. 230.—A Standard. Sixteenth Century.

The early form of the banner was higher than it was long, that is to say, the hoist, that part of a flag that is next the staff, was greater than the fly or the length from the staff to the further edge of the flag, and that shape continued throughout the Tudor period; later, however, the form became more square and finally extended in the other direction until at the present time the Admiralty pattern is greater in length than in height in the proportion of two to one. This has, no doubt, been arranged as the best suited to naval use, and for the Union Flag and for the Ensigns it appears satisfactory, but when a more armorial sort of flag is in question the naval proportion becomes more or less objectionable according to the nature of the bearings. In the Royal Banner, as so proportioned, the difficulty of designing the rampant lion of the Scottish quarter, so that it may be well distributed in its space and still vigorous, or of the Irish harp so that it may properly balance with the other quarterings, is nearly insuperable.

When we remember that the whole plan on which armorial bearings are devised is based on filling an upright space, the shield shape, it is not difficult to understand how it is that the attempt to adapt such emblems to a horizontal space so frequently suggests the ludicrous effect of a distorting mirror. There is of course no reason why the proportion of flags should be the same whether they are flown on land or sea, and this is very properly recognized in regimental colours and in the banners of the Knights of the Garter at Windsor, all of which are more nearly square.

Animals on flags, and also on the bardings of horses, always faced towards the staff in the one case and towards the head of the horse in the other, and this for a very natural reason. The flag flowing backward would cause the figure that turned towards its staff to face in the direction of advance and the figures on the bardings would, of course, have the same direction under the similar circumstances, while it is evident that if they faced in the opposite direction they would inevitably have given rise to the offensive gibe that they were running away.

The banner that concerns us more especially, the Union Jack, may have its essential construction explained by reference to the diagrams in Fig. 231. First we have two of the three national emblems (1) and (2), the cross of St. George and the saltire of St. Andrew, as they had long been used by England and Scotland respectively. Soon after King James succeeded to the English Crown a banner was made (3) which combined the two by placing the red cross of St. George (with a narrow line, taken from its white field, left round it) over that of St. Andrew, and thence was formed the first Union Jack, under which the great naval actions of the eighteenth century were fought.

At the Union with Ireland, in 1801, a fresh element, a red saltire on a white field for St. Patrick (4), was introduced, and the red of St. Patrick and the white of St. Andrew were united in equal proportions in this manner—(5), the red being made to retain a little of its white field as St. George had done formerly, and the result so far appears in—(6). The cross of St. George, with its white edge, was then placed over all, to complete the Union Jack as we know it. This will be found quite easy to follow if care is taken to remember the construction, and that the lines from corner to corner of the flag divide equally the broad white and the red of the saltires. Also that in the upper quarter, next the staff, the broad white must be uppermost, and for this reason: it is heraldically usual to begin a counter-change of two tinctures, a metal (silver or white) and a colour (red), by naming the metal first. Further, the tincture that is mentioned first is always placed next above the line of diagonal division. Therefore, as the blazon in the warrant is a “saltire per saltire quarterly argent and gules,” the white must be where it is. And so any possible question of precedence was automatically avoided.

Fig. 231.

The form of the flag as shown on the Royal Warrant of 1801 is seen in (7), and is that which has been followed in regimental colours. In this it will be observed that in consequence of the narrow white of the saltire being a fimbriation that is added to the red the outline of the saltire does not register across. The Admiralty pattern, however, in what one cannot but feel was an unnecessary effort to avoid this, seems to place narrow red strips on top of the white saltire, so that the outside diagonal lines manage to register, but the result is to reduce St. Patrick’s half of the joint saltire by the width of the narrow white.

Now, the evident intention in devising the flag was to effect equal representation of Scotland and Ireland in order to lessen the probability of quarrels such as had occurred between the Scotch and English seamen before the first Union Jack was made in the early seventeenth century; and this is perfectly effected by the pattern of the Royal Warrant.

The intention of equality is also evidenced in the warrant by similar care in designing the Union badge of Rose, Thistle, and Shamrock, for after the badge has been described as a rose with a thistle on one side and a trefoil on the other, the description is carefully repeated, but with the positions of the shamrock and thistle reversed, the obvious intention being to remove any ground for a claim to priority that might have arisen by assigning the dexter side to one emblem in preference to the other. Indeed I have known exception to be taken to a perfectly correct rendering of this Union Badge, under the impression that such precedence did in fact exist.

Another form of banner which survives is that which was, from a very early period, used to decorate trumpets and is still so employed by the trumpeters of the Household Cavalry and by those of the Sheriffs of counties for use on occasions of ceremony. Such decorations usually contain the arms alone, as a great banner does, but there are also instances of badges being borne on them and also complete armorial insignia. They are tied to the instruments by ribbons or laces, and hang squarely down. The bearings, whether simple or complex, are made to read upright, when the trumpet is held horizontally, as though they were on a hanging shield. This is, of course, the natural way, though there are instances to the contrary.

As we have seen, flags were generally embroidered and with more or less elaboration according to the circumstances which influenced other heraldic treatment. Frequently they were done in cutwork, sewn down and done over with beautiful needlework and even adorned with gems. The greatest artists were employed to design them, Sandro Botticelli among many others.

The methods of the missal painter in his use of gold lines for lights and other definitions and decorations were employed in the needlework, indeed all the arts of illuminated decoration, taking the term in its widest sense, copied from each other, but each adapted the method to its own needs and materials; and that is the gist of the whole matter. At the beginning, in the seventeenth century, of the period that was so fatal to all decorative art, when embroidery took what was probably thought to be a wonderful new departure, its subjects were raised to an increasing height from the ground where before it had been flatly treated. Thenceforward the embroidery became lumpy as the heraldry became weak, and both were alike inartistic until comparatively recently, until in fact it began to be again recognized that the mediaeval artists were right, that the right way to use a material was the natural way and not in attempting to make it resemble something else. At the time referred to it seems to have been thought that the more embroidery was made to look like a coloured relief and the less like embroidery the better embroidery it was, and therefore the lions, for example, were stuffed up and raised as high as possible and the whole effect became coarse and clumsy, an effect that was largely contributed to by the inferior design.

The costliness of embroidery helped the introduction of painted banners, which in time, assisted by the decay of embroidered as of other decorative arts, superseded the needlework. However, the inferiority of the painted banner was always recognized, and although even the banners of the Knights of the Garter had come to be done in the cheaper method, that which hung over the stall of the Sovereign continued to be embroidered, as it is to this day. The present banner is beautifully worked, and is on the correct lines of flat design.

In painted banners, usually of silk, the material is strained in a frame, by means of laces passed through tapes sewn to the edges, and the design being drawn or pounced on it, is carefully gone over with size, which fills the interstices of the silk, and when dry forms an excellent surface for the subsequent gilding and painting in oils.

There can be no doubt, however, that embroidery, now that it has so brilliantly revived, is the method of all others in which modern banners should be executed, and if this were recognized there need be no lack of opportunity. Among others the trumpet banners of the Sheriffs who every year are appointed to the respective counties, are used to display their arms during the year of office, and afterwards, their official life being ended, are frequently made into screens for domestic use. It is in this connexion that their method of production becomes of especial importance. Their somewhat tawdry and incongruous appearance is quickly felt, and they soon disappear into the retirement that they merit.

The banners of the City Companies would better decorate their venerable halls if fashioned in beautiful needlework, and when they were carried in the procession on Lord Mayor’s Day would impart a gleam of real splendour into that properties-in-daylight pageant. The painted banners could still serve for bad weather flags.

Fig. 232.—Bed Cover, Flemish Work. Victoria and Albert Museum.

In modern heraldic embroidery the design is the weak point, but improvement would certainly follow the study of good early work and also of good examples of other decorative methods if they were intelligently adapted to the materials employed. The purpose and character of the object must influence the work, and considerations of weight and substance affect the making of a banner, which is to wave and flow, at least to some extent that would not need to be insisted on in a framed panel. Not that the treatment need be wholly flat, like the diagrammatic shield of an early roll of arms, for it may well have such definition of the charges as are seen on the Black Prince’s surcoat; also the complete form of an object may be sufficiently suggested without the employment of methods more suitable to another material. Thus, it is not particularly difficult to indicate that a thing is round without making it as round as possible.

Fig. 233.—Design for Lace. Arms of Frederick II, King of Denmark. From the pattern-book of the Duchess of Brunswick.

Lace.—Although heraldry does not appear to have been so extensively practised in lace as in other forms of needlework, it is still used to a considerable extent, and generally as a device that is introduced as a personal detail in a large pattern.

Among the few examples of heraldic lace at South Kensington are a piece of English needlepoint and the bedcover of Flemish work in which the double-headed eagle is well done (Fig. 232), which will repay study, and serve to explain the method of this kind of work.

The method of making the preliminary designs for lace is set forth in the pattern-books which began to be produced in the sixteenth century, and of which very interesting examples are extant. The lace design, Fig. 233, is from a book of patterns which belonged to the Duchess of Brunswick and is now in the National Art Library of the Victoria and Albert Museum, and represents the arms of Frederick II, King of Denmark. It has the usual characteristics of the German heraldry of its time.