Ecclesiastical Vestments: Their development and history

by Robert Alexander Stewart Macalister

The extension of the Church into more northern and colder regions, and the importation of foreign customs into the southern metropolis itself, probably suggested the transformation of the somewhat scanty sandal into a more appropriate and more comfortable shoe. The traditions of the old custom were, however, long maintained in a curious way: the upper leathers of the shoe were fenestrated or cut into open-work patterns, the result being that the bare surface of the foot showed through and displayed the decoration in light flesh-tint against the dark leather of the shoe. When the episcopal stocking was added to the equipment of the bishop, the colour became bright scarlet, though the effect remained much the same.

The fenestrated sandals were abandoned about the fourteenth century in favour of shoes, in shape very much resembling the modern ankle-shoe. It would have been inconsistent, however, with the spirit of the fourteenth century to have abandoned the decorative effect produced by the open-work, and neglected to find some substitute. This substitute was found in lavish embroidery and in ornamentation with jewels and spangles of gold. The sandals, in fact, became as elaborate as did the rest of the ecclesiastical vestments.

The sandals, as above described, were worn by bishops only, at the Eucharistic service. Deacons and priests appear to have worn simple everyday shoes, without ornamentation of any kind. The fenestrated shoes (which were popular among the dandies of the day as well as consecrated to the bishops) were expressly forbidden to them, as also were coloured shoes, or shoes of the preposterous shapes occasionally in vogue among the laity of the middle ages.

Fig. 11.—Bishop Waynflete's Episcopal Sandal.

'As the sandals partly cover the feet and leave them partly bare,' says Rabanus, 'so the teachers of the Gospel should reveal part of the Gospel and should hide the rest, that the faithful and pious may have enough knowledge thereof, and the infidel and despiser may find no matter for blasphemy. And this kind of shoe warns us likewise that we should have a care to our flesh and our bodies in matters of necessity, not in matters of lust.'

Amalarius of Metz enters into further details, incidentally touching on some points of difference which obtained between the sandal of the bishop and that of the priest in his day—the first half of the ninth century. The following is a translation of his words:

'The difference in the sandal sets forth a difference in the minister. The offices of the priest and of the bishop are almost identical; but because there is a distinction in their titles and honours there is a distinction in their sandals, that we may not fall into error upon beholding them, which we might well do, owing to the similarity of their offices. The bishop has a band (ligatura) in his sandals, which the presbyter has not. It is the duty of the bishop to travel throughout the length and breadth of his diocese (parochia) to govern the inhabitants; and lest they should fall from his feet, his sandals are bound. The moral of this is, that he who mingles with the vulgar crowd must secure fast the courses of his mind (gressus mentis). The priest, who remains in one spot and offers the sacrifice there, walks more securely. The deacon, because his office is different from that of the bishop, needs not different sandals; he therefore wears them bound, because it is his to go on attendance. The subdeacon, because he assists the deacon, and has almost the same office, must have different sandals, that he be not thought a deacon. The inner meaning is this: Because the sandals set forth the way of the preacher, the sole, which is underneath, warns the preacher not to mingle with earthly matters. The tongue of white leather, which is under the "tread"[56] of the foot, shows that there ought to be the same separation, guiltless and guileless; that it may be said of him, "Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile;" let him not be such as were the false apostles, who preached in malice and disputation. The tongue, which rises thence, and is separated from the leather of the sandals, sets forth the tongue of those who ought to bear good testimony to the preacher, of whom Paul said, "He must have a good report of them that are without." These are in the lower rank, and to some extent are separated from spiritual intercourse. The upper tongue is the tongue of the spirits (spiritalium), who lead the preacher into the work of preaching. These search into the past life of the preacher. But the sandals are bound round within with white leather; so must the desire of the preacher be pure before God, out of a clean conscience; and without appears the black, since the life of the preacher seems despised by them that are worldly on account of the myriad afflictions of this present life. The upper part of the sandal, through which the foot enters, is sewn together with many threads, that the two leather bands be not separated; for at first the preacher should apply himself to the many virtues and sayings of the Scriptures, that his outward acts may not be at variance with those which are secret and known to God only. The tongue of the sandals, which is over the foot, sets forth the tongue of the preacher. The line made by the craft of the shoemaker, stretching from the tongue of the sandal to its end, sets forth the perfection of the Gospel; the lines proceeding from either side, the law and the prophets, which are repeated in the Gospels; they are repeated at the middle line, which stretches to the end. The bands denote the mystery of Christ's Incarnation....'

We have given this strange mixture of mysticism and observation at length for several reasons. First, it emphasizes a curious distinction between the shoes of different orders of clergy which is not often brought into notice. Secondly, it gives a very full, though somewhat obscure, description of the sandal in the author's time. And thirdly, it exemplifies the absurd lengths to which an author can go who endeavours to extract hidden meanings from simple and easily explicable facts. Here Amalarius endeavours to extract solemn truths even from the seams which the maker found necessary in joining two pieces of leather together. If some modern writers on archaeological subjects took timely warning from such a melancholy example, we should have fewer wild theories and more facts.

It is sad that most of Amalarius' successors quietly put aside his elaborately argued piece of symbolism. Pseudo-Alcuin is content with the old idea of Rabanus, that the Gospel should be kept from what is earthy as the feet are kept from the ground, but not otherwise covered. Ivo practically quotes Rabanus word for word; and even Innocent III, who is usually original, has little further to offer beside the quotation: 'How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace!'