[432] Ed. Oliver, p. 347.
[433] Ibid. p. 365.
[434] Mon. Anglic. t. viii. p. 1282, ed. Caley.
To eyes like our own, accustomed to see nowhere but in English heraldry, and English devices, harts figured as lodged beneath green trees in a park as in [Nos. 1283-4], p. 43, or stags couchant, with a chain about the neck, as at pp. [53], [239], and in both samples gazing upward to the sun behind a cloud, it would appear that they were but varieties of the pattern sketched for the silken stuffs worn by Richard II., and admirably shown on that valuable, yet hitherto overlooked specimen of English mediæval workmanship in copper and engraving still to be found in Westminster Abbey, as we before observed,[435] and the symbolism of which we now explain. The pattern of the silken textile worn by the king consists of but three elements—the broom-pod, the sun’s rays darting upwards from behind a cloud, and a stag lying down on the grass, looking right forward, with about its neck a royal crown, down from which falls a long chain. The broom tells, of course, that Richard was a Plantagenet. His grandfather’s favourite cognizance was that of sunbeams issuing from clouds; his mother’s—Joan, the fair maid of Kent—the white hart. The latter two were evidently meant to bring to mind the words of the Psalmist, who says:—“The heavens show forth the glory of God. He hath set His tabernacle in the sun. The Lord is my light, and His throne as the sun.” The white hind brings to our thoughts how the hart panting for the water-fountains, is likened to the soul that pants after God. This symbolism is unfolded into a wider breadth upon the design for the stuffs here, [No. 1310], p. 53; No. [8624], p. 239. Here, instead of the sunbeams shooting upwards, as if to light the whole heavens, they dart downward, as if for the individual stag with upturned gaze, amid a gentle shower of rain; as if to say that if man look heavenward by prayer, light will be sent down to him, and helping grace, like rain, like the shower upon the grass to slake his ghostly thirst.
[435] P. cxx.
About the time of Richard II. the white hart seems to have been a favourite element in ornamental needlework here in England, for Lincoln cathedral had “a red velvet cope set with white harts lying, colours (with collars?) full of these letters S S ... the harts having crowns upon their necks with chains, silver and gilt,” &c.[436] So thoroughly national at the time was this emblem that we believe every piece of silken textile to be found here or elsewhere had its design sketched in this country and sent to Palermo to be woven there in stuffs for the use of the English court. When his order had been done, the weaver having his loom geared at our king’s expense, threw off a certain quantity of the same pattern for home use or his trade with Germany; and hence we see such a beautiful variation figured on the apparels upon the old alb, No. [8710], p. 268 of the catalogue. The eagle shown all in gold, with a crown not on but above its head, may refer to one of Richard’s ancestors, the King of the Romans, who never reigned as such. The hart, collared and lodged in its park, is Richard’s own emblem. That dog, collared and courant, has a story of its own in Richard’s eventful life. Dogs when petted and great favourites, were always arrayed in ornamented collars; hence we must not be surprised to find put down among the things of value kept in the Treasury of the Exchequer:—“ii grehondes colers of silk enbrouded with lettres of gold and garnyssed with silver and overgilt.”[437] Telling of Richard’s capture in Flint castle by the Earl of Derby, soon afterwards Henry IV., Froissart says:—“King Richard had a greyhound called Math, beautiful beyond measure who would not notice nor follow any one but the king. Whenever the king rode abroad the greyhound was loosed by the person who had him in charge, and ran instantly to caress him, by placing his two fore feet on his shoulders. It fell out that as the king and the Duke of Lancaster were conversing in the court of the castle, their horses being ready for them to mount, the greyhound was untied, but instead of running as usual to the king, he left him, and leaped to the Duke of Lancaster’s shoulders, paying him every court, and caressing him as he was formerly used to caress the king. The duke asked the king, ‘What does this mean?’ ‘Cousin,’ replied the king, ‘it means a great deal for you, and very little for me. This greyhound fondles and pays his court to you this day as King of England.’”[438] That such a pet as Math once so given to fawn upon his royal master should, with other emblematic animals, have been figured in the pattern on a textile meant for its master’s wear, or that of his court, seems very likely: and thus the piece before us possesses a more than ordinary interest.
[436] Mon. Anglic. t. viii. p. 1281, ed. Caley.
[437] Antient Kalendars and Inventories, ed. Palgrave, t. ii. p. 252.
[438] Froissart’s Chronicles, by Johnes, t. ii. chap. cxiii. p. 692.
Respecting ecclesiastical symbolism, we have to observe that with regard to the subjects figured upon these liturgical embroideries, we may see at a glance, that the one untiring wish, both of the designer and of those who had to wear those vestments, was to set before the people’s eyes and to bring as often as possible to their mind the divinity of Christ, strongly and unmistakably, along with the grand doctrine of the Atonement. Whether it be cope, or chasuble, or reredos, or altar-frontal such a teaching is put forth upon it. Beginning with the divinity of our Saviour’s manhood, sometimes we have shown us how, with such lowly reverence, Gabriel spoke his message to the Blessed Virgin Mary with the mystic three-flowered lily standing up between them; or the Nativity with the shepherds or the wise men kneeling in adoration to acknowledge the divinity of our Lord even as a child just born; then some event in His life, His passion, His scourging at the pillar, the bearing of His cross, His being crowned with thorns, always His crucifixion, often above that, His upraised person like a king enthroned and crowning her of whom He had taken flesh; while everywhere about the vestment are represented apostles, martyrs, and saints all nimbed with glory, and among them, winged seraphim standing upon wheels, signifying that heaven is now thrown open to fallen but redeemed man, who, by the atonement wrought for him by our Divine Redeemer, is made to become the fellow-companion of angels and cherubim. To this same end, the black vestments worn at the services for the dead were, according to the old English rite, marked; the chasubles on the back with a green cross upon a red ground, the copes with a red orphrey at their sides, to remind those present that while they mourned their departed friend, they must believe that his soul could never enter heaven unless made clean and regenerated by the atoning blood shed for it on the cross.