OR,
An Attempt to Elucidate some of the more Obscure Armorial Bearings, principally the Mottoes used by many of the Scottish Families.
In a Letter to the Earl of Leicester, President of the Society of Antiquaries,
"Arma Viramque."
There seems to be something peculiarly significant and quaint in the greatest part of the Mottoes and Devices used by the Scottish Nobility, and perhaps in those of many Families of inferior Rank; though these last do not so easily come under our observation.
My intention is, to trouble your Lordship with my thoughts on a few of these Mottoes (as we call them); and refer to your extensive knowledge in the science of Heraldry, and your love of investigation, for the rest of these obscure impreses.
We must, however, distinguish between the Motto and the Slug horn (or, as Sir George Mackenzie gives it, upon the more Southern pronunciation, Slogan[282]); the latter being a cry de guerre, whereas the former (though one may sometimes answer both purposes) seems more to relate to some historical circumstance by which the Family have been signalized. The original idea of these words, I have no doubt, related to War, and operated as what we now call the Watch-Word, and more emphatically the Word by the circulation of which the King can, at this day, call his guards about him, as the Chiefs of Scotland formerly assembled their Vassals in their respective divisions or clans. The French call it a Mot; and the Italians, by an augmentation, Motto; which last we have adopted when we speak in an heraldic style. The true Scottish term is a Ditton, the Slughorn being properly the cry de Guerre. Not to go into the antiquity of Mottoes, or Armory, further than the subject in question shall lead me, I shall content myself with observing that Armorial Bearings in general, with us in England, have little more than the fancy of the party, with Heraldic sanction, for their foundation; or some distant allusion to the name. Take one singular instance of this last case, which Mr. Boyer (in his Theatre of Honour) gives, as a whimsical bearing. The Arms of the name of Matthias are three Dice (sixes as the highest throw), having, I make no doubt (though Mr. Boyer gives no reason for it), a reference to the election of St. Matthias into the Apostleship: "And the lot fell upon Matthias." One of the writers in the Antiquarian Discourses (Mr. Agarde) thinks the old Motto of the Caves, of Stanford, in Northamptonshire, a happy conceit; the ancient Crest being a Grey-hound currant, with a label issuing out of its mouth, with these words, "Adsum; Cave." Had the Cavè stood alone, without the Dog or the Adsum, it might have been very well, and have operated religiously, morally, or politically: but otherwise the Dog seems to run away with the Wit. The Family, since Mr. Agarde's time, appear to have been sensible of this awkward compound, and have adopted the French word Gardez for the Motto; though I think they had better have kept the Cavè (as I have observed), and hanged the Grey-hound; though perhaps it was conceived at the time the Adsum was dropped, that Ca-vè, in the Latin, might be confounded with the English, Cave; and that it would have appeared as if they had taken the name for the Motto, without another Latin word to denote that language; and therefore might take Gardez, which shews itself to be French.
Mr. Agarde's own Motto is much more apposite to his name; which, he tells us at the end of his Memoir, was, Dieu me Garde; but at the same time this would have admitted of improvement; for the French verb Garder was originally Agarder, which, had he known it, would have enabled him to have made the pun complete—Dieu m'Agarde.
Before I quit the subject in general, I cannot help mentioning a bon mot of a friend of mine (and he has so much wit that I shall not rob him in the least by the repetition), on his visiting Chatsworth, to see the house. The Motto of the noble owner is, as your Lordship well knows, Cavendo Tutus, to which the Family has happily adhered in their Political concerns. The state rooms in that house are floored with old oak, waxed, and very slippery, in consequence of which my friend had very near fallen down; when, recovering his equilibrium, he observed, "that he rather supposed the Motto related to the floors than the name."