Transcriber's Note.

Apparent typographical errors have been corrected.

Combining characters have been used to add tildes and macrons to some letters. They may not work properly in some applications.

The Errata that follow the List of Illustrations have been incorporated in the text. Corrected words are linked back to the Errata section.

There are many Greek words in the text. Transliterations into Latin can be found, in the browser version, by hovering over them. Rough-breathing marks have been added to the first words of Footnotes 2 and 3.

The Camden Library.

EDITED BY
G. LAURENCE GOMME, F.S.A.,
AND
T. FAIRMAN ORDISH, F.S.A.

Brass of Simon de Wenslagh (circ. 1360), Wensley, Yorkshire (showing the Eucharistic vestments of a priest of the Western Church).

THE CAMDEN LIBRARY

ECCLESIASTICAL VESTMENTS:

Their Development and History

BY
R. A. S. MACALISTER, M.A.
Member of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland

LONDON:
ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW
1896

PREFACE

Within comparatively recent years the discovery has been made that it is possible to treat the Bible, for critical purposes, as though it were an ordinary item of national literature, while maintaining a fitting reverence for it as the inspired Word; and that by so doing a flood of sidelight is cast upon it which illuminates the obscurity of some of its most difficult passages.

So, to compare lesser things with greater, it is possible and advisable to discard all feeling of ecclesiasticism (so to term it) when speaking of ecclesiastical antiquities. The science of ecclesiology is of comparatively recent growth, and it has hitherto suffered much at the hands of those who have approached it not so much to learn the plain lessons it teaches, as to force it to declare the existence or non-existence in early or mediaeval times of certain rites and observances. While we should treat ancient churches and their furniture with respect—a respect which should not be denied to the despised, though often quaint and interesting, high pews and west galleries—as being edifices or instruments formed for the use of the worshippers of God, yet for antiquarian purposes they should be examined and dissected in exactly the same spirit as that in which we investigate the temples of ancient Greece, or the stone weapons of prehistoric man. In this spirit the author of the present book has worked.

Ecclesiology, besides its sentimental connection with ecclesiasticism, possesses many features which render it the most popular branch of the great all-embracing science of archaeology. The objects with which it is concerned appeal strongly to the senses; the finest works of the architect, the limner, the silversmith, the engraver, the embroiderer, the illuminator, and the musician, come within its scope; they are accessible to all who live within reach of an ancient church or a moderately good museum, and the pleasant excursions and companionships with which its votaries are favoured invest its pursuit with the happiest associations. Above all, it lacks that terrible obstacle which lies at the threshold of almost every other subject of serious archaeological study—the necessity of attaining perfection in at least one foreign language. No one can form more than the merest dilettante acquaintance with the antiquities of India, Egypt, Greece, Ireland, or any other country, without mastering the language in which the records of the country are written; but the merest smattering of mediaeval dog-Latin is quite sufficient to open the door to high (not, perhaps, the highest) attainments in ecclesiology.

These manifold attractions have resulted in hampering the study of ecclesiology with a serious drawback, which is wanting in nearly all the other branches of archaeology. The investigation of the marvellous antiquities of the four countries just mentioned—or, indeed, of almost any other country—can be undertaken by a student with the certainty that if he applies himself to it sufficiently to master the many difficulties which will, no doubt, present themselves, he will be in a position to break ground as yet untouched; his knowledge will enable him to make original discoveries of his own. But it is far otherwise in ecclesiology. So easily understood are the facts of the subject (except in a few obscure points relating to the early Church); so definite are the statements of the numberless records, when the vagaries of symbolical theorizers are sifted away from them; so countless has been, and is, the army of students, that the scope for research-work is reduced to a minimum; hardly anything is left for the originally-minded worker but to discover the personal names of the different artists whose handiworks he sees before him, or else to propound some startling and revolutionary theory respecting the use of low-side windows or Easter sepulchres.

In the subdivision of ecclesiology with which this book is concerned, originality, whether of fact or treatment, is practically impossible. This work cannot claim to be more than a compilation, but it can claim to fill a space not exactly occupied by any other book, in that it gives in a brief and convenient form the principal facts connected with vestments and their use throughout the chief subdivisions of the Christian Church; it is not, as are almost all other works on the subject, confined to one branch only, or at most to the great Churches of the West and the East, but includes as well the smaller and more isolated communities, and those branches of the Universal Church which have undergone reformation.

Exception may possibly be taken to the manner in which the alleged symbolism of vestments has been treated. But it is impossible to overlook the facts. If, as is now the opinion of every leading ecclesiologist, the vestments are the natural result of evolution from civil Roman costume, it is clearly ludicrous to suppose that when they were first worn they possessed the symbolical meanings they are alleged to bear; the symbolism is as much an accretion as are the jewels and the embroidery of the middle ages. Moreover, the symbolical meanings attached to them are so obviously the 'private judgments' of the writers who describe them, and are so irreconcilable and so far-fetched, that to the unbiased mind they do not appear worthy of serious treatment.

In some recent books on ecclesiological and antiquarian matters Greek words are transliterated into English characters. This practice has not been followed in the present work because of the unsatisfactory appearance of Greek words in Roman dress, and because the Greek alphabet is familiar to all students. Words of other languages, such as Russian or Armenian, are, however, expressed in English letters, as their alphabets are not so well known, and they are not so easily set up in native type.

I must record my indebtedness to my lamented friend the late Prof. Middleton for useful hints and assistance; to Dr F. R. Fairbank, of St Leonard's-on-Sea, for many notes and references which have been of great value to me, and especially for the loan of several blocks; to Mr W. J. Kaye for the loan of a rubbing of the Sessay brass; to the Rev. S. Schechter for kind assistance in questions which arose in the first chapter; to the Rev. A. D. A. van Scheltema for information regarding the Church of Holland; and for many helps and suggestions to my father, to whom, in acknowledgment of the interest he has throughout shown in the preparation of the book, I wish to dedicate it. A list of the principal works laid under contribution is given in an Appendix.

R. A. S. M.

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

(For full titles of sources followed see Appendix III)

ERRATA.

• Page 47, line 2, for maniple read [mappula].
• Page 63, line 2, for Walfrid read [Walafrid].
• Page 74, line 1 of footnote, for Goodrich read [Goodrick].
• Page 77, line 3 of footnote, for Whittlesford read [Milton].
• Page 106, last line, for succinctorium read [subcingulum (also called 'succinctorium')].
• Page 110, line 13, for bishops read [ecclesiastics].

ECCLESIASTICAL VESTMENTS.

CHAPTER I.
THE GENESIS OF ECCLESIASTICAL VESTMENTS.

The study of ecclesiastical history or antiquities can be pursued from either of two standpoints. We may take into account those essentially religious or theological elements which distinguish this subject from all other branches of antiquarian science, and keep them prominently before us during our investigations; or else, disregarding those elements more or less completely, we may consider the subject wholly from the point of view of the antiquary.

As a general rule, those investigators who lay stress on the ecclesiastical rather than on the antiquarian side of ecclesiology and its various subdivisions have been attracted to the study not so much by the intrinsic interest which, in some degree, every branch of archæology possesses, as by the wish to settle controversial questions relating to Church doctrine, usage, or discipline. This is especially true of the important section of ecclesiology with which these pages are concerned. There are two schools into which the students of Church vestments may be divided—the ritualistic and the antiquarian. Each strives to attain full knowledge of the subject, and the means employed by both schools are the same—the evidence drawn from a patient comparison of the works of authors and artists of successive periods. But while those of the purely antiquarian school regard the knowledge thus gained as in itself the chief end of their researches, those of the other consider it rather as a stepping-stone, leading to proofs of the Divine appointment of the use of vestments, and indicating regulations to govern the usage of vestments in the modern Church.

It is not surprising that the results of the investigations of two schools, having aims so diverse in view, should be mutually incompatible. According to the views of some members of the ritualistic school, the vestments of the Christian Church were modelled directly upon the vestments of the Jewish priesthood; and as minute instructions for the shapes and usage of the latter were laid down in the divinely-revealed laws of Moses, they thus claim an at least indirect Divine appointment for the Christian vestments. The antiquarian party, on the other hand, are unanimous in holding that the vestments of the Christian Church were evolved, by a natural process, from the ordinary costume of a Roman citizen of the first or second century of our era.

The consideration of these two theories must first occupy our attention. Neither is absolutely correct; for, although the balance of probability is enormously in favour of the second view, yet this theory, in the form in which it is often stated, does not cover certain changes which were made in the textures, outlines, and number of the vestments while the Church was yet comparatively young. These changes were all introduced to assimilate, as far as possible, the Jewish and Christian systems; and thus it may be said that both views contain an element of truth.

The theory of a Levitical origin is the older of the two; in fact, it was the first, and for many years the only, solution proposed. We shall therefore at the outset devote a page or two to considering its merits. Very few, even among the students of the ritualistic school, now hold it absolutely. The weight of argument which can be brought to bear against it is so great that it is almost universally abandoned as untenable.

For comparative purposes, it will be necessary at this stage to introduce a short descriptive catalogue of the vestments of the Levitical priesthood, as prescribed in the Book of Exodus (chap. xxviii). Josephus ('Antiquities,' iii 7) is also a locus classicus on the subject, and some additional particulars from that source are here incorporated:

I. The Drawers or 'Breeches' of Linen.

II. The Tunic of Linen ('coat of fine linen,' Exod. xxviii 39).—Josephus tells us that this tunic was of fine linen or flax doubled; that it reached to the feet, fitting close to the body, and was furnished with tight sleeves. It was girded to the breast, a little above the level of the elbows, by

III. The Girdle.—This was a strip of linen which, according to Josephus, was four fingers broad; according to Maimonides,[1] three fingers broad and thirty-two cubits long. It was wound many times round the body; the ends were then tied over the breast and hung down to the feet, except when the priest was engaged in sacrifice or other service, in which case he threw it over his left shoulder, so that it should not impede him in his duty. It was elaborately embroidered with flowers, worked in scarlet, purple, and blue threads.

Fig. 1.—Vestments of the Jewish Priesthood.

IV. The Priest's Cap ('bonnet,' Exod. xxviii 40).—This was an ordinary turban, fastened round the head. The description given by Josephus is clear and detailed. He says: 'Upon his head he wears a cap, not brought to a conic form nor encircling the whole head, but still covering more than half of it, which is called mesnaemphthes; and its make is such that it seemeth to be a crown [garland], being made of thick swathes, but the contexture is of linen, and it is doubled round many times and sewed together; besides which, a piece of fine linen covers the cap from the whole upper part, and reaches down to the forehead and hides the seams of the swathes, which otherwise would appear improperly.'[2]

These four vestments constituted the complete equipment of the ordinary Jewish priest, as prescribed in the Mosaic law. The high-priest, however, added four more, which were as follows:

V. The Tunic of Blue ('robe of the ephod,' Exod. xxviii 31).—This was a long garment which, according to some authorities, reached to the feet, but according to others to the knees only. It was woven in one piece, with an aperture through which the head of the wearer was passed; this aperture was guarded by a binding or braid to prevent it from tearing. Round the lower hem of this garment were hung golden bells and models of pomegranates, alternating one with another. The meaning of this remarkable ornament is not clear, and several explanations have been advanced to account for it; all, however, fanciful, and not worth recording here.

VI. The Ephod, which was at once the most elaborate and the most important of the Jewish vestments, is more fully described than any of the rest. The superiority of this vestment over the others is due to the part which it, and the breastplate intimately connected with it, played in the mysterious revelations by which the children of Israel were guided during the period of the Theocracy. For us, however, it would be as irrelevant as it would be futile to speculate on the nature of the revelation, or the instrumentality of the ephod in indicating the Divine will to the priest. We are here concerned only with the ephod as an element in the equipment of the high-priest, with its shape, and with such particulars of its ritual use as we can find directly stated in the different authorities.

'The ephod,' says Josephus, was 'woven to the depth of a cubit, of several colours [gold, blue, purple, and scarlet are enumerated in Exodus]; it was made with sleeves also; nor did it appear to be at all differently made from a short coat.'[3] The vestment seems to have consisted of two pieces, a front and a back, which were buttoned together by two onyx stones, one on each shoulder, set in bezils or 'ouches,' and engraved with the names of the twelve tribes, six on one, six on the other. Round the waist was passed a girdle, which was an essential part of the vestment—indeed, Josephus tells us that the girdle and the ephod were sewn together. This girdle, which was made of materials similar to those which constituted the ephod, seems to have been embroidered elaborately with coloured threads.

The ritual uses of the ephod, even apart from its supernatural associations, are obscure. It is distinctly implied both in Exodus and by Josephus that the vestment was intended for the use of the high-priest alone; yet we find allusions scattered through the early historical books of the Old Testament which clearly indicate that it was worn by others as well. Thus, we read in 1 Sam. xxii 18 that Doeg, commanded by Saul to fall on the priests who had assisted David, 'slew ... fourscore and five persons that did wear a linen ephod.' Again, Samuel, when a child in the service of the priests, 'ministered before the Lord ... girded with a linen ephod' (1 Sam. ii 18). Further, we read that King David himself, when he escorted the ark from the house of Obed-Edom to Jerusalem, was 'girded with a linen ephod.' In these three passages we read of an ephod being worn by the minor priest, the acolyte, and the layman, for none of whom it was originally intended. The most probable explanation seems to be that the ephod, originally intended as a vestment for the high-priest alone, was gradually assumed, probably in a less elaborate form, by the minor priests as well—when or how we cannot say. This explanation assumes that the regulation was originally laid down as it stands in Exodus; but it is possible that the more stringent restrictions may not be earlier than the recension of Ezra.

We learn from the incidents of Gideon (Judg. viii 27) and of Micah (Judg. xvii 5; xviii 14 et seq.) that the ephod, or, rather, copies of it, early became objects of superstitious veneration. In the two latter passages quoted, as well as in Hos. v 4, the vestment is coupled with the teraphim or penates, to the worship of which the Israelites showed marked inclination at different periods of their history. It may be noticed in passing that Ephod, which signifies 'giver of oracles,' is used as a personal name (Num. xxxiv 23).

VII. The Breastplate of the Ephod.—This was a rectangular piece of cloth of the same material as the ephod. That it might the better hold the precious stones with which it was set, it was doubled, its shape when so treated being that of a perfect square, with a side of about nine inches long. The stones were twelve in number, and fixed in settings of gold, being arranged in four rows of three each. On each stone was engraved the name of one of the twelve tribes.

This breastplate was secured by two plaited or twisted chains of gold, fastened at the one end to the bezils of the shoulder-pieces of the ephod, at the other to rings of gold in the upper corners of the breastplate, and by two blue cords secured to rings of gold in the lower corners of the breastplate and in the sides of the ephod above the embroidered girdle. Josephus asserts that there was an aperture in the ephod immediately under the breastplate. For this statement there is no Scriptural authority; but it is possible that it is the record of a modification in the details of the vestment naturally evolved and established at some time subsequent to the institution of the vestment itself.

VIII. The Mitre.—This did not differ in essence from the head-dress of the priests except in one important respect—the addition of a gold plate, set on a lace of blue, and bearing the inscription, 'Holy to Jehovah.' Josephus does not mention this plate, but describes the mitre as a kind of triple tiara, surmounted by a flower-shaped cup of gold, and covering the turban proper.[4] This, however, is quite at variance with the original laws on the subject.

In one respect these vestments are similar to those which it will be our duty to describe in the following pages. Although there is no injunction on the subject in the Law, the Talmud states clearly that 'he who wears the vestments of the priests outside the temple does a thing forbidden.'

It is admitted by almost all students that the vestments during the first six or eight centuries of the Christian era were of much greater simplicity than those of later times. The evidence of contemporary art is overwhelmingly opposed to any other view. This fact being admitted, we need not be surprised by finding that until the eighth or ninth century no attempt was made to trace any connection between the elaborate vestments which we have just described, and the vestments worn by those who ministered in the offices of Christian worship.

It is true that until the time we have mentioned Churchmen did not greatly trouble themselves with investigations into the history of the religion they professed or the ritual they performed. But it is also true that several authors before this date enumerate the Jewish vestments, and enter at length into the figurative meanings which they were alleged to bear; but not one of these refers to any supposed genealogical connection—if the expression be permissible—between the two systems. This would be inexplicable if the Christian vestments were actually derived from the Jewish; for not only would the resemblance between the two be obvious, but the tradition of the assumption by Christian clerics of the vestments originally instituted for the Jewish priesthood would still be fresh in the minds of the authors. Yet not only do these writers not point out any resemblance between the two: they even make use of words and phrases which point to considerable differences between the outward appearance of Jewish and Christian vesture.

Apart from these considerations, may we not ask with reason how the early Christians, a poor and persecuted sect, could possibly assume and maintain an elaborate and expensive system of vestments such as the Jewish? And if the assumption had been made after the days of persecution were past, surely some record of the transaction would have been preserved till our own day? We possess a tolerably full series of the acts and transactions of ecclesiastical courts in all parts of the known world from the earliest times—how is it that all record of such an important proceeding has perished?

The first hint of the idea of the Mosaic origin of the Christian vestments is given by Rabanus Maurus, Archbishop of Mainz, in his treatise 'De Institutione Clericorum,'[5] written about the year 850. In the first book of this tract he discusses each Christian vestment in turn, endeavouring to find parallels to some of them among the vestments of the Jewish priesthood, but without much success. The seed thus sown, however, rapidly bore fruit among subsequent writers, who expanded the theory with great elaboration.

Many of the identifications brought forward by some of the late writers are very far-fetched, and mutually contradictory. To these but little weight can be attributed. It is a significant fact that none of the writers who endeavour to find parallels between the two systems can discover an equivalent among the Jewish vestments for the chasuble. Now, if for each of the Christian vestments there existed a corresponding vestment among those of the Jews, it would be singular that the most important of the former should be unrepresented among the latter. The maniple, too, has no equivalent (this, however, is more intelligible, since that ornament was certainly a later introduction); while the amice is the only vestment that even the most ingenious can produce to represent the ephod, though the similarity between the two is of the slightest.

There is another important point which the advocates of a Mosaic origin for Christian vestments overlook. The early Christians certainly did borrow many details of their worship from the Jews who lived around them, and from whose religion many of them had been converted; but these details were taken not from the antiquated ritual of the temple worship, but from the synagogue worship, to which they had been accustomed. Now, the vestments which we have described above were appointed for the tabernacle worship and the temple worship, its direct successor, whereas no vestments were at any time or by any authority appointed for use in the synagogue worship;[6] and hence the Christian vesture cannot be said to 'come directly' from the Jewish.

We have discussed the theory of a Levitical origin on purely a priori grounds, making only the slightest allusion to the vestments themselves as we find them in primitive times. In considering the second view, to which it is now time to turn, we shall adopt a different course. We shall first collect the main facts which can be discovered or deduced respecting vestments in the earliest centuries of Christianity, from the beginning till the rupture of the East and the West, and then discuss in detail the vestments as we find them in the succeeding period, which in all ecclesiastical matters was a period of transition, comparing each in turn with its hypothetical prototype among the civil costume of the Romans. The remainder of the present and the whole of the succeeding chapter will be devoted to this investigation.

The materials available for an inquiry into the vestment usage of the early Church are twofold: the incidental statements of contemporary authors, and the more direct information obtained from a study of contemporary paintings and sculpture. We shall now discuss the results which follow from an examination of these sources.

The references in the earliest writers—even including those which have a very indirect bearing on the subject—are extremely few in number; and all passages which can possibly throw any light on the question have been eagerly sought out and called into evidence to support one theory or another. The two best-known passages are the statement of St Jerome: 'Holy worship hath one habit in the ministry, another in general use and common life';[7] and the yet more famous passage in the liturgy of St Clement, in which a rubric directs the priest to begin the service 'girded with a shining vesture.'[8] The phrase λαμπρὰν ἐσθῆτα μετενδὺς has been translated 'being girded with his "splendid" vestment,' a translation which the Greek cannot possibly bear; and this passage, coupled with the excerpt from Jerome just quoted, have been brought forward to testify that gorgeous vestments were in use even at the early times when those documents from which they have been extracted were written.

Mr. Marriott has carefully examined and commented on these and the other passages cited as authorities. He proves that the first passage given above is used in a context which shows that Jerome, though possibly he may have had Christian usage in his mind, was thinking primarily of Jewish usage; the second (which not improbably is an interpolation) does not specify a 'splendid' vesture, but a 'white' or 'shining' garment.

Mr. Marriott's inference from these and similar passages is 'that white was the colour appropriated in primitive times [i.e., in the first four centuries] to the dress of the Christian ministry.' Though this view is preferable to the theory that the primitive vestments were of the same elaborate description as their mediaeval successors, yet it does not altogether commend itself as following naturally from the authorities cited. It will be necessary to review these passages, for, as we shall endeavour to show, they are quite consistent with the third alternative: that no distinctive vestments were set apart for the exclusive use of the Christian minister during the first four centuries of the Christian era.

The third passage is also from Jerome. In another part of the same commentary as the last he writes: 'From all these things we learn that we ought not enter the Holy of Holies clad in our everyday garments and in whatever clothes we will, defiled as they are by the usage of common life; but with pure conscience and in pure garments we ought to hold the sacraments of the Lord.'[9]

The fourth passage is from Jerome's letter against the Pelagians, in which occur these remarkable words: 'You say, further, that gorgeousness of apparel or ornament is offensive to God. But, I ask, suppose I should wear a comelier tunic, wherein would it offend God? or if bishop, priest, deacon, and the rest of the church officers were to come forward dressed in white?'[10]

Only one other passage remains. This is the account of the charge preferred against Cyril, Bishop of Jerusalem, before the Emperor Constantius. It is narrated in Theodoret (Eccl. Hist., ii 27), and, not being worth quoting at length, may be briefly stated thus: Constantine had sent to Macarius, the then bishop, a sacred robe—ἱερὰν στολήν—made of threads of gold, to be worn when administering baptism; Cyril had sold this robe to a stage-dancer, who wore it during a public exhibition. It was further stated that the stage-dancer had fallen while dancing and been fatally injured.

As the reader will see, these passages give but few data for deductions as to the vestment-usage in the early Church. There is no indication, for instance, in the passage from Theodoret of what sort the sacred robe in question was: it may just as well have been a splendid garment originally from some temple or other. The fact that the early Greek ecclesiastical writers do not use the word στολή to denote a sacred vestment further weakens the force of this anecdote as an argument. Only Germanus, Patriarch of Constantinople (early seventh century), supplies another instance, where he says: ἡ στολὴ τοῦ ἱερέως . . . κατὰ τὸν ποδήρη Ααρών; and this latter passage can be explained away, as στολὴ refers here to Jewish vesture, in which connection it is also employed by the Septuagint.

On a careful and unbiased reading of these passages, it will be noticed that nothing is said which can be construed into denoting garments of a special prescribed shape, and that their colour is only specified by such indefinite words as λαμπρός and candidus.

It is also important to notice that although in the first and third of the passages cited from Jerome a more special mention is made of the dress of the clergy, yet it is not straining the meaning of either of them to regard them as applying equally well to the dress of the lay worshippers. This, of course, would preclude the supposition that they deal with any special ritual observance. The second of these quotations, if translated into homely nineteenth-century language, resolves itself into a simple but strong injunction to all worshippers (not the minister only) to wear their Sunday clothes. Mr Marriott lays great stress on the passage in the letter against Pelagius; its testimony is one of the strongest arguments which he can bring forward to support his thesis, that it was specially appointed, in the primitive church, that white vestments (something like the modern surplice) should be worn by the minister. But Jerome does not say, 'Is God displeased because the officers of the church dressed candida veste?' but 'would God be displeased if they were so vested?' The entire passage is hypothetical; and nothing is more clear than that Jerome was not contemplating any hard and fast rules.

We may dismiss the passage from the Clementine Liturgy with very few words. Λαμπρός, which the ritualists translate 'splendid,' in classical Greek always means 'bright, brilliant, radiant,'[11] and is applied in Homer to the sun and stars. It is also applied, in the sense of 'bright,' to white clothes; indeed, we find in Polybius[12] (flor. circa 150 B.C.) this very phrase, λαμπρὰ ἐσθής, equivalent to the Roman toga candida. Other meanings are 'limpid' (of water), 'sonorous' (of the voice), 'fresh, vigorous' (of action), 'manifest,' 'illustrious,' 'munificent,' 'joyous,' 'splendid' (generally, in outward appearance, health, dress, language, etc.); but it never wears the definite meaning which we should expect were the word intended to be applied to a definite vesture. The λαμπρὰ ἐσθής of the Clementine Liturgy is, in short, a bright, clean robe, but no more an article of an exclusively ecclesiastical nature than is the 'fair white linen cloth' with which the rubric of the Anglican Communion Service directs the altar to be covered.

Another passage, somewhat later in date, may be cited as a type of a large class of passages very apt to mislead too credulous students. It is the Gaulish description of St Berignus cited by Lipomanus (de Vitis Sanctor., Ed. Surius, Venice, 1581, vol. vi, p. 4), 'Vidi quendam hominem peregrinum, capite tonso, cujus habitus differt ab habitu nostro, vitaque eius nostrae dissimilis est.' The context, however, makes it plain that secular, not religious, dress is intended.

And when we refer to the few early frescoes and mosaics which have come down to us from the primitive epoch, we find ecclesiastics, apostles, and Our Lord Himself, represented as habited in the tunic and toga or pallium of Roman everyday life.

We gather, therefore, from these scattered shreds of evidence that, during the first centuries of the Christian church, no vestments were definitely set apart for the exclusive use of the clergy who officiated at Divine service: that clergy and people wore the same style of vesture both in church and out, subject only to the accidental distinctions of quality and cleanliness.

Fashion in dress or ornament is subject to constant changes which, though perhaps individually trifling, in time amount to complete revolutions; but the devotees of any religion, true or false, are by nature conservative of its doctrines or observances. Combined with the conclusions at which we have just arrived, these two universally recognised statements yield us presumptive evidence of the truth of the theory which views the Roman civil dress as the true progenitor of mediaeval ecclesiastical costume. We have seen that at first the worshippers wore the same costume both at worship and at home. Fashion would slowly change unchecked from year to year, while ecclesiastical conservatism would retard such changes so far as they concerned the dress worn at Divine service: small differences would spring into existence between everyday dress and the dress of the worshipper, and these differences, at first hardly perceptible, would increase as the process went on, till the two styles of costume became sharply distinguished from one another.

Parallel cases are not wanting to show that this is not altogether mere random theorizing. For example, the ministers of the Reformed Church of Holland maintained, till comparatively recently, a picturesque fashion of dress over a century old, which they wore only when conducting Divine service.[13] Perhaps, however, the objection may be urged against this view of the case, that if the process were such as we have described, it should apply as well to the worshippers as to the minister: that they, as well as he, should wear service-robes. It is possible that this would actually have been the case had the church services maintained their most primitive form, as St Paul describes it in the First Epistle to the Corinthians: 'When ye come together, every one of you hath a psalm, hath a doctrine, hath a tongue, hath a revelation, hath an interpretation';[14] that is, had all the worshippers maintained an equally prominent position instead of selecting one of their number to conduct their services. As it was, the outstanding position of the minister rendered his equipment especially liable to such stereotyping as we have imagined.

In the following chapter we shall submit the truth of this theory to a test. If the genesis of ecclesiastical vestments actually took place in some such manner as this, then the vestments as we find them described in the earliest writers ought to bear conspicuous points of resemblance to the civil costume of the Roman people during the first three Christian centuries. We shall now inquire whether this be so.

[1] Mishneh Torah, VIII, section de vasis sanctuar., viii 19, where some other particulars are to be found regarding the textures of which the Jewish vestments were made, etc.

[2] Ὑπὲρ δὲ τῆς κεφάλης φορεῖ πῖλον ἄκωνον, οὐ διϊκνούμενον εἰς πᾶσαν ἀυτὴν, ἀλλ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ὀλίγον, ὑπερβεβήκοτα μέσης· καλεῖται μὲν μεσναεμφθής. τῇ δὲ κατασκευῇ τοιοῦτός ἐστιν ὡς στεφάνη δοκεῖν, ἐξ ὑφάσματος, λινέου ταινία πεποιημένη παχεῖα, καὶ γὰρ ἐπιπτυσσόμενον ῥάπτεται πολλάκις. ἔπειτα σινδὼν ἄνωθεν ἀυτὸν ἐκπεριέρχεται διήκουσα μέχρι μετώπου, τήν τε ῥαφὴν της ταινίας καὶ τὸ ἀπ᾽ ἀυτῆς ἀπρεπὲς καλύπτουσα—Translation from Whiston.

[3] Ὑφανθεὶς ἐπὶ βάθος πηχυαῖον ἔκ τε χρωμάτων παντοίων καὶ χρυσοῦ συμπεποικιλμένου, ... χειρίσι τε ἠσκημένος, καὶ τῷ παντὶ σχήματι χιτῶν εἶναι πεποιημένος.

[4] Ὑπὲρ αὐτὸν δὲ συνεῤῥαμμένος ἕtερος ἐξ ὑακίνθου πεποικιλμένος, περιέρχεται δὲ στέφανος χρύσεος ἐπὶ τριστοιχίαν κεχαλκευμένος. θάλλει δ᾽ ἐπ᾽ αὐτῷ κάλυξ, χρύσεος τῇ σακχάρῳ βοτάνῃ παρ᾽ ἡμῖν λεγομένῃ απομεμιμημένος, ὑος δε κύαμον Ἑλλήνων.

[5] I, cap. xiv et seq. (Migne, 'Patrologia,' vol. cvii, col. 306).

[6] Such a vestment as the talith is not here considered, for this is worn by all the worshippers alike, as well as by the officiating minister.

[7] Hieron. in Ezek., cap. xliv. 'Religio divina alterum habitum habet in ministerio alterum in usu vitaque communi.'

[8] Εὐξάμενος οὐν καθ᾽ ἑαυτὸν ὁ ἀρχιερεὺς ἅμα τοῖς ἱερεῦσιν καὶ λαμπρὰν ἐσθῆτα μετενδὺς καὶ στὰς πρὸς τῷ θυσιαστηρίῳ τὸ τρόπαιον τοῦ σταυροῦ κατὰ τοῦ μετώπου τὸν χειρὶ ποιησάμενος εἰπάτω κ.τ.λ.

[9] 'Per quae discimus non quotidianis et quibuslibet pro usu vitae communis pollutis vestibus nos ingredi debere in sancta sanctorum sed munda conscientia et mundis vestibus tenere Domini sacramenta.'—Hieron. in Ezek., cap. xliv.

[10] 'Adjungis gloriam vestium et ornamentorum Deo esse contrariam. Quae sunt rogo inimicitiae contra Deum si tunicam habuero mundiorem? si episcopus presbyter et diaconus et reliquus ordo ecclesiasticus in administratione sacrificiorum candida veste processerint?'—Hieron., Adv. Pelagianos, lib. i, cap. 9.

[11] See Liddell and Scott, Greek Lexicon, edit, maj., sub voce.

[12] Polyb., 10, 5, 1.

[13] See Chapter VI.

[14] 1 Cor. xiv 26.

CHAPTER II.
THE EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF ECCLESIASTICAL VESTMENTS IN THE WESTERN CHURCH.

The last chapter has carried us down to the end of the fourth century A.D. For some time back the Roman Empire had been showing signs of disintegration. Already the three sons of Constantine had divided the imperial power among themselves; but the rule thus severed had again been united in the person of Constantius. In 395, however, the emperor Theodosius died, and left the empire of the world to be parted between his two sons, Arcadius and Honorius.

It would be outside our scope to enter into the details of the far-reaching consequences of this great event. For our present purpose it is sufficient to state that, with the empire in which it had been born and nurtured, the church was divided into two parts, which were thenceforth to develop independently, now in parallel, now in widely divergent lines.

It will be convenient to regard the first chapter as dealing with the period between the institution of Christianity and the partition of the Roman Empire; and in the present chapter to discuss the interval between the latter event and the accession of Charles the Great. We thereby divide the history into two epochs of approximately four centuries each, with characteristics sufficiently well marked to distinguish one from the other. Following Marriott, we shall name the first the primitive, the second the transitional period. We have seen that there is no evidence that vestments of any definite form were prescribed for use during the former epoch; we shall see in the present chapter how vestment-usage rapidly developed in the churches of the West till it culminated in the gorgeous enrichment of mediaeval times.

Although the differences between the vestments of the Western and the Eastern churches consist largely in matters of detail, they are sufficiently conspicuous, and their histories are sufficiently divergent, to render their independent treatment advisable. We shall therefore postpone the discussion of the latter till we have investigated the evolution and subsequent elaboration of the former.

The empire to which Honorius succeeded consisted of Italy, Spain, Gaul, and Britain. Although the evidence which is extant does not permit us to trace completely the history of vestments throughout this period, yet from scattered documents we are able to see that for the most part the development of ecclesiastical costume proceeded on the same lines throughout this vast area.

Ritual in matters of dress had rapidly been growing. Pope Celestine, who occupied the Roman See from 423 till 432, found it necessary to write a sharp letter to the Bishops of Vienne and Narbonne for 'devoting themselves rather to superstitious observances in dress than to purity of heart and faith.' Certain monks, it appears, had attained to episcopal rank, but had retained their ascetic costume. Some of Celestine's sentences are very striking in this connection; and although they refer primarily to outdoor costume, we cannot but think that, in a later age, when the regulations governing the ritual uses of vestments had been formulated, and the vestments themselves had been elaborated to their ultimate form, the force of his words would have been somewhat modified. 'By dressing in a cloak [pallium],' he says, 'and by girding themselves with a girdle, they think to fulfil the truth of Scripture, not in the spirit, but in the letter. For if these precepts were given to the end that they should be obeyed in this wise, why do they not likewise that which follows, and carry burning lights in their hands as well as their pastoral staves? We should be distinguished from the common people, or from all others, by our learning, not by our dress; by our habit of life, not by our clothing; by the purity of our minds, not by the cut of our garments. For if we begin to introduce novelties, we shall trample under foot the usage which our fathers have handed down to us, and give place to vain superstitions.'

The fullest information on the subject of vestments during this period comes from Spain, in the oft-quoted acts of the fourth council of Toledo, which sat under the presidency of St Isidore of Seville in the year 633. Of the canons which were drawn up at this council that which is of the highest importance in this inquiry is the twenty-eighth, although it is not directly connected with vestment-usage. It provides for the case of a cleric who had been unjustly degraded from his order, and ordains that such a one, if he be found innocent in a subsequent synod, 'cannot be reinstated in his former position unless he regain his lost dignities before the altar, at the hands of a bishop. If he be a bishop, he must receive the orarium,[15] ring, and staff; if a priest, the orarium and planeta; if a deacon, the orarium and alba; if a subdeacon, the paten and chalice, and similarly for the other orders—they must receive, on their restoration, whatever they received on their ordination.'[16]

On the principle which is all but universal, that the clergy of the higher orders added the insignia of the lower orders to those of their own, we are enabled by the help of this act to draw up a table of the vestments recognised in Spain, which shows at a glance the manner in which they were distributed among the different orders of clergy:

• Alba: worn by all alike.
• Orarium: worn by deacons, priests, and bishops.
• Planeta: worn by priests and bishops.
• Ring and staff: exclusively for bishops.

Some letters of Gregory the Great (Bishop of Rome 590-604) give us particulars relating to three other vestments not in general use throughout the church. These are the dalmatica, the mappula, and the pallium. Lastly, an anonymous MS. of uncertain date[17] enumerates the pallium, casula, manualia, vestimentum, alba, and stola as the vestments worn in the Gallican Church. It is to be regretted that none of the British authors of the period have preserved any record of contemporary vestment-usage in this country; we have, however, no reason to suppose that it differed from that of the Continent.

Let us now take each of the above vestments in order, and collect whatever information is obtainable upon their appearance and history, comparing each in turn with its supposed Roman prototype.

I. The Alba.—This word is the abbreviated form of the full name, tunica alba, by which a flowing tunic of white linen was denoted. It appears that the first use of this word as a technical term for a special robe is in a passage of Trebellius Pollio (in Claud., xiv, xvii), who speaks of an alba subserica, mentioned in a letter sent from Valerian to Zosimio, Procurator of Syria, about 260-270 A.D. In the 41st canon of the fourth council of Carthage (circa 400 A.D.)[18] we meet with the first use of this word in an ecclesiastical connection, in one of the earliest (if not the earliest) regulations ever passed to govern the ritual usage of vestments. This ordains that the deacon shall wear an alba only 'tempore oblationis tantum vel lectionis.'

The constant evidence of contemporary pictures indicates that the alba was a long, full, and flowing vesture. In this respect it differed from the Mosaic tunic, on the one hand, and the mediaeval alb on the other. Both these vestments fitted closely to the body for reasons of convenience, for a flowing tunic would obviously hamper the Levitical priest in the discharge of his sacrificial duties, and would not sit comfortably under the vestments with which it was overlaid in mediaeval times.

Nearly two centuries after the fourth council of Carthage we find the first council of Narbonne (A.D. 589) enacting that 'neither deacon nor subdeacon, nor yet the lector, shall presume to put off his alba till after mass is over.'[19] To this canon, which was clearly framed to check some tendency to irregularity that had become noticeable in the celebration of mass, we are indebted for two facts: first, that ritual usage in vestments was now firmly established; and second, that the alba was the dress of the minor orders of clergy. This latter point is not clearly brought out in the Toletan canon already quoted.

Of the garments worn in everyday life by the Roman citizen, the innermost was the tunica talaris, or long tunic. This article of dress was white, usually of wool; it was passed over the head and reached to the feet, the epithet talaris ('reaching to the ankles') being employed to distinguish it, as the tunic of ceremony, from the short tunics worn when freedom was required for active exertion.[20] It fitted tolerably closely to the body, though it was sufficiently loose to require a girdle to confine it. The tunics of senators and equites were distinguished by two bands of purple, in the former case broad (lati clavi), in the latter narrow (angusti clavi), which passed from the sides of the aperture for the head down to the lower hem of the garment.

A comparison of the ecclesiastical tunica alba with the civil tunica talaris will bring out some remarkable points of resemblance. Both were worn in the same manner, and both reached to the feet; it is true that the ecclesiastical dress was slightly fuller than the civil, but this was necessary, as room was required underneath the alba for the wearer's everyday dress. Further, we find ecclesiastics represented in ancient frescoes wearing albae which actually show ornaments disposed like the clavi of the tunica talaris. These clavi were early employed by the Christians to distinguish, by their relative width, the representations of Our Lord from those of the Apostles, or to discriminate between the figures of ecclesiastics of different orders.

It is also important to notice that the alba is invariably furnished with tight sleeves reaching to the wrist. The tunic was originally a sleeveless garment; but with the growth of luxury, a new kind provided with sleeves gradually came into favour. These two forms of tunic were distinguished by different names: the older or sleeveless tunic was called colobium, a Latinization of the Greek name κολόβιον;[21] and the latter or sleeved tunic was named tunica manicata or tunica dalmatica, from the name of the province to which its invention was ascribed.

In the early days of Rome the use of a tunica dalmatica stamped the wearer with the stigma of effeminacy and utter want of self-respect. The parents of Cornelius Scipio and of Fabius are said to have openly disgraced them in their boyhood, as a punishment ad corrigendos mores, by compelling them to appear in public in this attire. The despicable emperors Commodus and Elagabalus offended all persons of good taste by coming out before all the people in the same costume: the latter impudently calling himself another Scipio or Fabius, in reference to the incident just related.[22] This, however, cannot mean that the scandal lay in the adoption of the luxurious tunica dalmatica in preference to the colobium (for Rome in the time of Elagabalus was too deeply steeped in luxury and vice to feel shocked at an Emperor merely preferring an under-garment with sleeves to one without those appendages); it rather consisted in his neglecting to put on his pallium, or outer dress, over it. In fact, the tunica dalmatica must have quite ousted its severer rival in popular favour by the time of Elagabalus: for we find that in 258, only thirty-six years after the death of that emperor, St Cyprian of Carthage wore a tunica dalmatica, over which was a byrrhus, or cloak, when led out to martyrdom.[23] It is absurd to suppose that Cyprian, on such a solemn occasion, would have assumed a merely luxurious garment, and equally absurd to imagine that he would have worn ecclesiastical vestments at the time, as some commentators on the passage have held. There remains only one other alternative—that the tunica dalmatica was the form of tunic which was in regular use at the time, and this seems quite the most satisfactory hypothesis.

The most important mention of the tunica dalmatica in connection with ecclesiastical matters is in the decree of Sylvester, Bishop of Rome, 253-257. That prelate ordained 'that deacons should use the dalmatica in the church, and that their left hands should be covered with a cloth of mingled wool and linen.'[24] Various authors supplement this passage; thus, the anonymous author of the tract 'De Divinis Officiis,' formerly attributed to Alcuin, tells us that 'the use of dalmaticae was instituted by Pope Sylvester, for previously colobia had been worn.'[25]

Much importance has been attached to this decree. It is regarded as an additional and incontrovertible proof that ecclesiastical vestments were in use in the primitive church. But on examination, however, it will be found no more to bear such a construction than St Paul's request for his φαιλόνη. The ordinance merely shows that Sylvester had a laudable desire to improve the aesthetics of public worship, and, with this end in view, decreed that thenceforward ecclesiastics should all wear the tunica dalmatica—which had quite outgrown its early evil reputation, and must be admitted to have been a better-looking garment than the scanty and somewhat undignified colobium. It is not at all improbable that many of the clergy wore dalmaticae even before Sylvester's edict: in this case the edict would have the additional advantage of securing uniformity.

All attempts to set up the dalmatica as a separate vestment in early times fail hopelessly. It is unknown to the drafters of the Toletan canons, and no early representation of an ecclesiastic is extant having two vestments visible under the planeta.[26] This would certainly be the case if the two were independent vestments. It is true that St Isidore of Seville wrote, 'Dalmatica vestis primum in Dalmatia provincia Graecia texta est sacerdotalis, candida cum clavis ex purpura;'[27] (the dalmatica is a priestly vestment first made in Dalmatia, a province of Greece, white with purple clavi); but the concluding words show that he was merely thinking of the alba under its more specific name, dalmatica.

A brief recapitulation of this somewhat lengthy argument may not be out of place. Two forms of tunic may be said to have contended one with another for the favour of the Roman people—the sleeveless colobium and the sleeved dalmatica. The latter ultimately gained the victory; and the decree of Pope Sylvester, commanding all ecclesiastics under his authority to assume it in place of the former, finally established its use in the church. Now, when we find that, two or three centuries after Sylvester's time, a vestment was worn by ecclesiastics in Divine service identical with the tunica dalmatica in almost every respect, even to the presence of the clavi, which (in the secular dress) indicated the rank of the wearer, it is only natural to regard the one as directly derived from the other.

There is one other point of importance in the history of this vestment in the transitional period. It was found that such a flowing garment as the alba seriously incommoded the priest on some occasions, particularly in administering baptism by immersion. Accordingly, an alba fitting closely to the body was invented for use on such occasions, and is represented in certain MS. illuminations, particularly a ninth-century pontifical now in the St Minerva Library at Rome. The special importance of this point is due to the fact that this baptismal alba was probably the immediate parent of the mediaeval alb; the closer vestment being found more convenient on other occasions as well as that of baptism, and having gradually become adopted in all the other offices of the Church as well.

Fig. 2.—A Bishop administering Baptism.

II. The Orarium.—Both this vestment and the name by which it was known have given much trouble to scholars. The following list of the various derivations which have been suggested for the word orarium (arranged in order of probability) is not uninteresting:

• 1. Ora, because used to wipe the face.
• 2. Orare, because used in prayer.
• 3. ὥρα, because it indicated the time of the different parts of the service.
• 4. ὡραΐζειν, because the deacon was beautified with it.
• 5. Ora (a coast), because (alleged to have been) originally the edging of a lost garment.
• 6. ὁράω, because the sight of it indicated whether a priest or deacon was ministering (!).

There can be little doubt that the first is the true etymology. The others are all more or less fanciful; and the orarium was certainly employed originally as a scarf. Ambrose speaks of the face of the dead Lazarus being bound with an orarium; and Augustine uses the same word to indicate a bandage employed to tie up a wounded eye.

Numerous effigies of late date are extant which exhibit a kind of scarf, passing over the left shoulder diagonally downwards to the right side, and fastened under the right arm. As Albertus Rubenius long ago pointed out, these scarves must not be confused with the clavi which ornamented the tunics of senators and equites; for they are worn over the pallium, or outer garment, and are disposed in a manner quite different from that in which the clavi fall.

What, then, are these scarves? The answer to this question is supplied by Flavius Vopiscus in his Life of Aurelian, who, he says, 'was the first to grant oraria to the Roman people, to be worn as favours.'[28] Now, the references which we have just made to Ambrose and Augustine—not to mention others which might equally well be quoted—show that the oraria, whatever may have been the method in which they were worn, must have been narrow strips of some kind of cloth. These peculiar scarves, which are to be seen on certain monuments, do not appear on any effigy dating before the time of Aurelian; the natural inference, therefore, is that the scarves which we see thus represented are actually the oraria, granted to the Roman people by that emperor and his successors. If this argument be not valid, then it is impossible to say either what these scarves really are, or what was the true appearance of the civil orarium.

It is probable that considerable laxity existed in the manner of wearing the ecclesiastical orarium, for the fourth Council of Toledo thought it necessary to enact a special canon to regulate the method in which this vestment should be disposed. The fortieth act of this assembly restricts the number of oraria to one, and enjoins that deacons should wear the orarium over the left shoulder, leaving the right side free so as to facilitate the execution of their duties in Divine service.[29] This act also provides that the diaconal orarium should be plain, not ornamented with gold or embroidery. It will be noticed that this Toletan council favoured the derivation of the word orarium from orare.

The wearing of the orarium was still further regulated by two of the councils which met at Braga. The second council of Braga (563 A.D.) decreed that 'since in some churches of this province the deacons wear their oraria hidden under the tunic, so that they cannot be distinguished from the subdeacons, for the future they must be placed over their shoulders.'[30] The fourth council (675 A.D.) made an important decree regulating the wearing of the orarium by priests, which has been since followed universally. The vestment was to be passed round the neck, over each shoulder, crossed in front, and secured in this position under the girdle of the alba.[31]

The last enactment of importance is that of the council of Mayence (813 A.D.), which ordered that priests should wear their oraria 'without intermission.'[32]

The orarium, then, was a narrow strip of cloth, disposed about the persons of the clergy in various manners according to their rank. To it corresponded in name, shape, and method of disposition, a garment common among the Romans, though admittedly rather an honourable ornament than an actual article of clothing. Yet when we remember how the clavi were employed to distinguish rank among the earlier clergy, this latter fact may be regarded as strengthening the evidence of identity which the correspondence in all salient features affords. Some other theories of its origin will be discussed when we have treated of the pallium.

III. The Planeta.—In the earlier and purer days of the Roman people, the dress which alone was recognised as the proper costume for the citizen was the toga. This was one of the most inconvenient and cumbrous articles of dress ever invented—a great oblong cloth, fifteen feet by ten, thrown in a complicated manner over the left shoulder, folded in front, and hanging loose about the feet. We can hardly feel surprised at finding that, when the citizens came to regard comfort before appearances to such an extent as to adopt sleeved tunics, a more convenient form of this outdoor costume was adopted. There were three varieties of this new[33] garment, each of which has its own name; these were the paenula, the casula, and the planeta.

The paenula was a garment which in the early days of the Republic was allotted to slaves. A slave wearing this dress is introduced into the 'Mostellaria' (IV iii 51) of Plautus. Indeed, according to Julius Pollux ('Onomasticon,' vii 61), the dramatist Rhinthon, who lived in the fourth century B.C., introduced a mention of this garment into his 'Iphigeneia in Tauris,' a fact which would seem to indicate that the dress was much older than his own time, as otherwise his audience would be unfavourably impressed by the anachronism. Numerous allusions in classical Latin authors show that it was adopted as a travelling dress because of its warmth and comparative convenience;[34] but on no account was it worn within the walls of the city. Gradually, however, the use of the garment spread, till Alexander Severus (222-235 A.D.), as Lampridius tells us, permitted elders to wear the paenula within the city in cold weather, though at the same time he forbade women to do so except when on a journey.[35]

The casula was a poor and inferior variety of the paenula, which, when the latter was promoted to be the costume of senators and emperors, succeeded it as the garb of the poorer classes. The original meaning of the name is 'little house'—a diminutive of casa—and there is little evidence to guide us as to the exact appearance of the garment which it denoted. The name would lead us to infer that, like the paenula, it enveloped the entire body; but it is probable that it was made of coarser and cheaper material. The fact that it was early adopted as the distinctive dress of monks would lead us to this conclusion; beyond this there is no reason for supposing that it differed in outline from the paenula.

The planeta first appears in the fifth century A.D. Cassianus (De Habitu Monachorum, i 7) mentions it as a dress whose price prevents its use as a monastic habit; and St Isidore, two centuries later, expressly forbids members of religious orders to wear it. The planeta must therefore have been more costly than the casula, and, as we find it mentioned in the sixth century as the dress of nobles and of senators, it was probably the most expensive of the three.

The general shape of the garment, as shown in Roman paintings or effigies, is that of a cloak enveloping the body, sewn in front, and put on by being passed over the head, for which a suitable aperture was provided. And this shape is identical with the outer vestment which we see in early representations of clerics. The modification which was early adopted, that of making the vestment oval in form, so as to lessen the width over the shoulders and so to give more freedom to the arms, was obviously regulated by convenience.

Thus we have seen that the three principal vestments, as we find them detailed in the earliest lists and depicted in the earliest monuments, are identical in shape, disposition, and name with the Roman civil costume of the second or third century of the Christian era.

Three additional vestments are found enumerated in the letters of St Gregory the Great and elsewhere which were not worn universally throughout the church, but were either carefully confined to the clergy of the city of Rome itself or were in the gift, so to speak, of the Pope. These are the pallium, the mappula, and the dalmatica.

I. The Pallium.—In classical Latin this word is used either as the equivalent of toga or in the general sense of the English 'robe.' It is also used in the earlier ecclesiastical writers of the casula, or coarse outer garment of monks, as in the passage from Celestine quoted on p. 26. Yet another use of the word pallium is found in the expression pallium linostimum, which denoted a cloth, the use of which was ordained to deacons by Pope Sylvester, as we shall presently see when discussing the [mappula].

Fig. 3.—Ecclesiastics from the Mosaics in S Vitale, Ravenna (Sixth Century).

The pallium, when used by ecclesiastical writers in its proper and restricted sense, denotes an ornament specially appropriated to archbishops. Its earliest form is shown in the Ravenna mosaics—that of a narrow strip of cloth, passed over the left shoulder, looped loosely round the neck, and then passed over the left shoulder again, so that the two ends hang free, one in front, the other behind. This method of disposition seems to indicate an identity of origin with the orarium; indeed, it is sometimes difficult to distinguish between these vestments in early representations. A desire for symmetry, probably, decided the next step in its evolution; this consisted in bringing the free end to the middle and knotting it into the lowest point of the loop: this we find exemplified in monuments of the eighth, ninth, or tenth century. From this the transition to the form which became universal in later times was easy, and the two are found contemporaneously. The final form—which will be more fully described in the third chapter—is that of an oval loop with a long tail pendent from its ends, so that when the ornament is in position it presents the appearance of a capital Y on the front and on the back.

The early history of this vestment is involved in deep obscurity. As already hinted, it is not improbably a modification of the orarium; but there is no evidence, further than general outward resemblance, that this is actually the case; nor is there any apparent reason for its appropriation to archbishops. The question must remain open till further research either reveals the missing links in the chain of connection, or elicits some more satisfactory solution of the question.

The idea of Dr Rock, according to which the pallium is viewed as 'the true and only representation of the Roman toga,' is most unsatisfactory. He thinks that the toga, which was folded over the left shoulder, under the right arm, over the right shoulder, and again over the left shoulder, 'dwindled down to a mere broad band,' folded much the same way; and that this broad band was the early pallium. The evolution here supposed is, however, most unnatural; there is not time for it to have taken place between the institution of Christianity and the date of the Ravenna mosaics—much less between the time when ecclesiastical vestments and their development began to receive special attention and the latter date; the toga, as we have already seen, was itself practically obsolete when Christianity began to make itself felt, and still further removed from the current fashion of the time at which archbishops began to require distinguishing insignia; and, lastly, the connecting links between the blanket at one end and the narrow strip of cloth at the other, which Dr Rock adduces and figures, are too few in number to be convincing, and quite explicable on other grounds, such as the unskilfulness of the ancient artist—a fruitful source of error in archæological research.

Fig. 4.—Effigy of a Roman Citizen in Caerleon Museum.

It is not inconceivable that the origin of the honourable pallium is to be sought in the honourable orarium, distributed as 'favours' to the Roman people; in which case we must seek elsewhere for a prototype to the ecclesiastical orarium. We should then fall back on the old idea, which has by no means been disproved, that in the clavi of the tunica alba is to be found the true original. We reproduce here a figure of an effigy of a Roman citizen at Caerleon, near Newport, which certainly seems to warrant this view; here is to be seen a tunica, a clavus, and a paenula, all very suggestive of the alb, stole, and chasuble of later times. Duchesne, in his 'Origines du culte chrétien,'[36] regards all the orarium-like vestments which appear in contemporary documents as in reality pallia; the orarium proper he does not consider to have been introduced till the tenth century. The orarium which appears before this date he regards as simply a napkin, or sudarium, designed to protect the alba. He further states that in the fourth century the civil law required all officials to wear some distinctive badge of office; that the Eastern Church complied with this law throughout, assigning the ὠμοφοριον, ἐπιτραχήλιον and ὠράριον respectively to bishop, priest, and deacon, while the Western Church only complied with it to the extent of assigning a pallium to the bishops. We confess that this elaborate argument does not appeal to us any more than the theory which regards the stole as the orphrey of a degenerated vestment; but while professing our own belief in Marriott's view, stated above (pp. 38-9), we have given these several theories, leaving it to the reader to make his own choice.

From the earliest references to the pallium which we can find, it is clear that it was from the first regarded as a distinctive vestment to be worn by archbishops only.[37] The archbishops of this early period had not the right, any more than their mediaeval successors, of assuming the pallium on their consecration; it was necessary to apply to the Pope for a grant of the vestment, which was only bestowed on the permission of the reigning sovereign being obtained. The earliest document unquestionably relating to the bestowal of the pallium is a letter of Pope Symmachus, bestowing the pallium on Theodore, Archbishop of Laureacus, in Pannonia, 514 A.D.[38] Instances of the royal assent being considered necessary are found in the letters of Pope Vigilius, who delayed the grant of the pallium to Archbishop Auxanius of Arles for two years, pending the consent of Childebert I, King of the Franks;[39] and in the letters of Pope Gregory the Great, who at the request of Childebert II bestowed the pallium on Virgilius, a later Archbishop of the same province.[40]

In 866 Pope Nicholas I declared that no archbishop might be enthroned or might consecrate the Eucharist till he should receive the pallium at the hands of the Pope.[41]

II. The Mappula.—We have seen in discussing the alba that Pope Sylvester, in the middle of the third century, decreed that the deacons of the city of Rome should substitute dalmaticae for colobia; he further charged them to wear a pallium linostimum on their hands. It is clear that this cloth, as its proper name, mappula (little napkin), demonstrates, was designed to serve the utilitarian purpose of a handkerchief, either to wipe the Communion vessels or the face of the minister—probably the latter.[42] This cloth, however, must early have become regarded as a sacred vestment by its wearers, and the exclusive privilege of the Roman priests to wear it was jealously guarded. Attempts were made by the deacons of the neighbouring churches of Ravenna to assume the vestment, and St Gregory found it necessary to interfere, which he did in several letters to that somewhat recalcitrant prelate, John, the Bishop of Ravenna. For the sake of peace, Gregory admitted a compromise whereby the principal deacons of Ravenna were allowed to wear the coveted ornament; but the glamour of carrying a vestment, however inconvenient,[43] which was theoretically confined to the holy city itself, proved too strong a temptation for the deacons of other places, while the Romans (whose exclusive privilege was gone once Ravenna was admitted to a share in it) took no further steps to prevent its assumption. As a natural consequence, the use of the vestment spread over the whole of the Western Church, and by the time when the period at present engaging our attention ended, had become universal.

III. The Dalmatica.—We have already entered at length into the history of this word and of the vestment to which it was applied. It does not seem to have differed essentially from the alba; but it appears that two[44] vestments were worn at Rome, an alba and a dalmatica, though it is evident from the Toletan canons and other sources that at this early period such was not the case elsewhere. In early pictures the two vestments are rarely represented side by side; it is probable that the dalmatica was so long as to conceal the alba, just as the dalmatic on mediaeval effigies of Bishops often hides the tunicle. It seems, however, to have been shown on the ancient picture of Gregory the Great, described by Joannes Diaconus; and we find that Gregory granted its use to Bishop Aregius of Gap and to his Archdeacon (Ep. ix 107: Migne, lxxvii 1033), forwarding the vestments at the same time as the letter. Clearly the Pope does not denote the alba by the word dalmatica, as we have seen St Isidore of Seville do, for Aregius would naturally wear an alba without papal interference. The vestment in question must, therefore, have been another, resembling the alb in outline, but only worn either at Rome or by those on whom the Pope saw fit to confer it.

The history of the spread of the dalmatica must have been similar to that of the mappula. By the time the third period begins we find it established as an independent vestment, differing from its parent, the alba, in one important respect, which will be detailed in the following chapter.

Although not vestments in the strictest sense of the word, we must not conclude this chapter without a brief notice of the two exclusively episcopal insignia noticed in the canons of the fourth council of Toledo, namely, the ring and staff. Rings have been found in the tombs of bishops of the third century. This, however, proves nothing, as their use was universal among both Christians and heathen. Nor can anything definitely ecclesiastical be tortured out of the many descriptive notices which have come down to us of the rings in the possession of individual bishops of the third, fourth, and fifth centuries. Isidore of Seville (circa 600) lands us on firmer ground; he distinctly says: 'To the bishop at his consecration is given a staff ... a ring likewise is given him to signify pontifical honour, or as a seal for secret things.'[45] We need not, perhaps, discuss the esoteric meaning of the gift as here set forth; but the fact clearly remains that by Isidore's time the gift of a ring and a staff had become an essential part of the ceremony of episcopal ordination. The Toletan canon tells us the same thing. Before that time there is no clear indication of the gift; it is not mentioned in ordination services of earlier date than the sixth century, one of the oldest references to it being in the sacramentary of Gregory the Great (circa 590 A.D.); and even this passage is rejected as an interpolation by Migne.[46]

The Pastoral Staff.—Isidore says, in the passage already quoted, that the staff is given 'that he may rule or correct those set under him, or support the weakness of the weak.'[47]

It is strange that even the pastoral staff has a prototype among the insignia of the heathen priesthood. One of the emblems of the Roman augurs was a lituus, or crook, resembling almost exactly the earliest pastoral staves as we find them shown in the monuments of early Christian art. It was used inter alia for dividing the sky into regions for astrological purposes. The pastoral staff, as represented in early monuments, was much shorter than the mediaeval crozier; and it seems not at all improbable that the pastoral staff was originally a 'Christianization' of this pagan implement.

Other writers have argued in favour of the pastoral staff being simply an adaptation of the common walking-sticks, which were certainly used in churches as a support before the introduction of seats. It has been pointed out, however, that the pastoral staff had become a special member of the insignia of a bishop before the general abolition of these crutches; and this, it must be confessed, is an argument of considerable force against such a hypothesis.

The letter of Celestine to the Bishops of Narbonne and Vienne, part of which we quoted on pp. 26-7, is probably about the earliest available reference to the use of the pastoral staff by members of the episcopal order. This brings the history of pastoral staves back to the early part of the fifth century, and shows that this special ornament was one of the earliest of the external symbols which the church has prescribed for its officers.

Fig. 5.—Pope Gregory the Great with Pastoral Staff.

The staff was a rod of wood with a head either crutched or crooked, usually of one of the precious metals. The name suggests that the symbolism of the shepherd had entered largely into the ideas connected with it. It was carried by abbots and abbesses, by bishops, and, till about the tenth century, by the Pope; but with the rapid growth of the temporal sovereignty of the Papacy, the emblem purely associated with the special idea of spiritual pastorate was abandoned. In the old pre-scientific days it used to be stated that the Pope at no time carried a pastoral staff, though he did bear a ferula, or straight sceptre—the symbol of rule;[48] but this is at variance with the evidence of contemporary art.

We must not leave the subject of the earliest form of ecclesiastical vestments without briefly noticing the ornamentation with which they were decorated. In the oldest representations of ecclesiastics which we possess, their vestments were represented pure white, ornamented with the clavi; these were generally black, though St Isidore refers to purple clavi. But other colours appear in very early frescoes and mosaics. These, however, are apparently arbitrary, the result of the notions of the painter on the subject of the artistic combination of colours. Nothing analogous to the 'liturgical colours' of late times is traceable in the early or transitional period of the history of vestments.

Some ornamentation other than the clavi is found in vestments of late date in the present period. Leo III, the date of whose Papal rule lies just on the border-line between the transitional and the mediaeval epoch, presented to the Church of St Susanna a vestment with four gammadia—that is, ornaments shaped like crosses formed by four gammas placed back to back, thus: ╬; we also hear of calliculae, metal or embroidered ornaments, for the alba. A singular method of ornamentation is exemplified by numerous frescoes and mosaics, and has been a fruitful source of perplexity to ecclesiologists. This consists in the use of letters (sometimes of monograms or letter-like arbitrary signs) on the outer hem of the garment. No connection can be traced between these letters and any circumstances known concerning the persons whose vestments they decorate; and wide differences between the times and places of individual examples of the same character preclude their explanation as the faithful copies of weavers' marks. We can only say that their use is inexplicable on such practical or esoteric grounds, and that, therefore, some simple explanation, such as the arbitrary selection of a letter as an elementary ornament, is the only satisfactory means of accounting for their presence. Even now we daily employ rows of O-shaped circles, S-shaped curves, etc., as ornaments, without the slightest reference to the sounds which those symbols denote. The tendency to exalt simple little contrivances into hidden mysteries is ever with us, especially in ecclesiology, and it should on all occasions be repressed.

[15] Throughout this chapter I have retained the Latin words orarium, planeta and alba in preference to the English translations 'stole,' 'chasuble,' and 'alb,' when treating of the vestments of the early church. The two are not identical, and it is convenient to have a short method of distinguishing one from the other.

[16] 'Episcopus presbyter aut diaconus si a gradu suo iniuste deiectus in secunda synodo innocens reperiatur non potest esse quod fuerat nisi gradus amissos recipiat coram altario de manu episcopi; (si episcopus) orarium annulum et baculum; si presbyter orarium et planetam; si diaconus orarium et albam; si subdiaconus patenam et calicem; sic et reliqui gradus ea in reparationem sui recipiant quae cum ordinarentur perceperunt.' [The bracketed words have dropped out from the MS., but their restoration is certain and necessary.]

[17] This MS. is edited in Martene's Thesaurus Anecdotorum, vol. v, p. 86 et seq., and extracts are made from it in Marriott's work, p. 204. The MS. was found in the monastery of St Martin at Autun, and is assigned by Martene to the sixth century, though on doubtful grounds. Marriott is probably correct in referring it to the tenth. As the vestments which it describes rather resemble those of the final period than of the transitional, we reserve its discussion till the following chapter.

[18] Labbe, Sacrosancta Concilia (1671), vol. ii, col. 1203.

[19] 'Nec diaconus aut subdiaconus certe vel lector antequam missa consummetur alba se præsumat exuere.'—Concil. Narb., i, Labbe, vol. v, col. 1030 (misprinted 1020).

[20] It was also possible and usual to gird up the tunica talaris for this purpose.

[21] Derived from the adjective κολοβός, docked, curtailed, in reference to the shortened sleeves of the garment.

[22] Lampridius in Commodo, cap. viii; in Elagab., cap. xxvi.

[23] Acta S Cyp., prop. fin. (Migne, Patrologia, vol. iii, col. 1504).

[24] 'Ut diaconi Dalmatica uterentur in ecclesia et pallio linostimo laeva eorum tegeretur.'—Anastasius Bibliothecarius de Vit. Pontif., § 35 (S Sylv.); Migne, Patrol., vol. cxxvii, 1514.

[25] 'Usus autem Dalmaticarum a B. Sylvestro Papa institutus est: nam antea colobiis utebantur.'—Pseudo-Alcuin de Div. Off., cap. xxxix; Migne, vol. ci, 1243.

[26] This does not apply to the city of Rome. See p. 54.

[27] Etymologiae, lib. xix, cap. xxii (Migne, lxxxii 635).

[28] 'Sciendum ... illum ... primum donasse oraria populo Romano quibus uteretur populus ad favorem.'—Flav. Vop. in Aur., 48.

[29] 'Orariis duobus nec episcopo quidem licet nec presbytero uti; quanto magis diacono qui minister eorum est. Unum igitur orarium oportet Levitam gestare in sinistro humero propter quod orat, id est, praedicat; dextram autem partem oportet habere liberam ut expeditus ad ministerium sacerdotale discurrat. Caveat igitur amodo gemino uti orario sed uno tantum et puro nec ullis coloribus aut auro ornato.'—Acta Concil. Tolet. IV, cap. xl.

This rule does not seem to have been always obeyed. In the Pontifical of Landulfus (ninth century) there is a representation of an ecclesiastic wearing two oraria, one over each shoulder. This, however, must be regarded as exceptional.

[30] 'Item placuit ut quia in aliquantis huius provinciae ecclesiis diacones (sic) absconsis infra tunicam utuntur orariis ita ut nihil differre a subdiacono videantur de cetero superposito scapulae (sicut decet) utantur orario.'—Acta Concil. Bracar. II, cap. ix: Labbe, vol. v, col. 841. The eleventh canon ordained 'ut lectores in ecclesia in habitu saeculari ornati non psallant.'

[31] 'Cum antiqua ecclesiastica noverimus institutione praefixum ut omnis sacerdos cum ordinatur orario utroque humero ambiatur; scilicet ut qui imperturbatus praecipitur consistere inter prospera et adversa, virtutum semper ornamento utrobique circumseptus appareat: qua ratione tempore sacrificii non assumat, quod se in sacramento accepisse non dubitatur? Proinde modis omnibus convenit ut quod quisque percepit in consecratione, hoc et retentet in oblatione, vel perceptione sude salutis; scilicet ut cum sacerdos ad sollennia missarum accedit aut pro se Deo sacrificium oblaturus, aut sacramentum corporis et sanguinis Domini Nostri Jesu Christi sumpturus, non aliter accedat, quam orario utroque humero circumseptus, sicut et tempore ordinationis suae dignoscitur consecraturus: ita ut de uno eodemque orario cervicem pariter et utrumque humerum premens, signum in suo pectore praeferat crucis. Si quis autem aliter egerit excommunicationi debitae subiacebit.'—Concil. Bracar. IV, cap. iv: Labbe, vol. vi, coll. 564, 565.

[32] 'Presbyteri sine intermissione utuntur orariis propter differentiam sacerdotis dignitatis.'—Concil. Mogunt. cap. xxviii: Labbe, vol. vii, col. 1249.

[33] Or, to speak more accurately, new adaptation of an old garment. The paenula, for instance, had long been worn by the lower classes, being cheap and warm.

[34] Though it was by no means adapted to active exertion. See Cicero, pro Milone, capp. x, xx.

[35] 'Paenulis intra urbem frigoris causa ut senes uterentur permisit, quum id vestimenti genus semper itineranum fuisset aut pluviae. Matrones tamen intra urbem paenulis uti vetuit, in itinere permisit.'—Lamprid. in Alex. Sev., cap. xxvii.

[36] Quoted by the Rev O. J. Reichel in his 'English Liturgical Vestments in the Thirteenth Century' (London, Hodges, 1895).

[37] Some exceptions to this rule will be noticed in the next chapter.

[38] Symmachi Ep. xii in 'Patrologia,' lxii 72.

[39] Vigilii Epp. vi, vii in 'Patrologia,' lxix 26, 27.

[40] Gregorii Ep. v 53; 'Patrologia,' lxvii 783.

[41] '... sane interim in throno non sedentem et praeter corpus Christi non consecrantem priusquam pallium a sede Romana percipiat, sicuti Galliarum omnes et Germaniae et aliarum regionum Archiepiscopi agere comprobantur.'—Nich. Papae I, Responsa ad consulta Bulgar., cap. lxxiii, ad fin.: Labbe, vol. viii, col. 542.

[42] The notion prevalent nowadays, that the mappula was exclusively intended to cleanse the sacred vessels, is thus bluntly negatived by St Ivo of Chartres: 'Unde in sinistra manu ponitur quaedam mappula quae saepe fluentem oculorum pituitam tergat et oculorum lippitridinem removeat.' And Amalarius of Metz testifies to the same effect: 'Sudarium ad hoc portamus ut eo detergamus sudorem qui fit ex labore proprii corporis.'

[43] The modifications which the discomfort of this little vestment necessitated will be described in the next chapter.

[44] Civil dress presented parallel cases: the Emperor Augustus wore four tunics in cold weather.

[45] Huic dum consecratur datur baculus ... datur et annulus propter signum pontificalis honoris vel signaculum secretorum.—Isidorus de Off. Eccl., lib. ii, cap. v.

[46] Ad annulum digito imponendam: Accipe annulum fidei, scilicet signaculum quatenus sponsam Dei, videlicet sanctam ecclesiam, intemerata fide ornatus illibate custodias.

[47] Ut subditam plebem vel regat vel corrigat vel infirmitatem infirmorum sustineat.

[48] Romanus autem Pontifex Pastorali virga non utitur—Innoc. III Papa, De Sacr. Altar. Myst. i 62 (Migne ccxvii, 795). Ideoque summum Pontificem eiusmodi; incurvatam virgam non gerere quia eius potestas nullis locorum limitibus circumscribitur at ubique patet.—De Saussay, Panoplia Clericorum (Paris 1646), p. 102.

CHAPTER III.
THE FINAL FORM OF VESTMENTS IN THE WESTERN CHURCH.

Hitherto, to a great extent, we have been groping in the dark, guided only by the dim light yielded by obscure passages in early writers or by half-defaced frescoes and shattered sculptures. Much is conjectural, much uncertain; and often the shreds of information obtained from different sources appear contradictory, requiring patient thought and investigation to unravel the entanglement and reconcile the inconsistencies.

The progress of Christian literature and art had been retarded first by persecution, then by war and tumult. This partly accounts for the comparative scantiness of the material extant for a history of the Christian antiquities of the first eight centuries. But with the ninth century a new era began, which lasted unchecked all through the Middle Ages. The military genius of Charles the Great effected a general peace in the year 812; and under his enthusiastic patronage a true renaissance took place in learning and in art. Architecture and manuscript illumination were carried to a high degree of perfection, and for the first time active and systematic researches were made into the details of the doctrine and ritual of the church in the preceding centuries.

As a natural consequence of the inquiring spirit which thus made itself felt, the number of books and tracts on ecclesiastical matters multiplied enormously. Among the many branches of study which were and are open to the inquiry of the ecclesiologist, few occupied the attention of these ninth-century writers more than the vestments worn by the priests when ministering in Divine service.

It has been reserved for the antiquaries of our own day to formulate the true principles of scientific archaeology. We smile at the childish fancies which are gravely put forward in works not more than fifty years old; small wonder is it, then, that we find these early treatises on vestments disappointing. All are firmly impressed with the Levitical origin of the usage and shape of Christian vesture; and the majority are occupied with vague speculations concerning the symbolic meaning of the individual items in an ecclesiastical outfit.

Mr. Marriott assigns a reason for the then universal belief in the Levitical origin of ecclesiastical vestments which is highly ingenious, and probably correct. I cannot do better than cite his words on the subject:

'Churchmen who had travelled widely, as then some did, in East as well as West, could hardly fail to notice the remarkable fact, that at Constantinople as at Rome, at Canterbury as at Arles, Vienna or Lyons, one general type of ministering dress was maintained, varying only in some minor details; and that this dress everywhere presented a most marked contrast to what was in their time the prevailing dress of the laity. And as all knowledge of classical antiquity had for three centuries or more been well-nigh extinct in the church, it was not less natural that they should have sought a solution of the phenomenon thus presented to them in a theory of Levitical origin, which from that time forward was generally accepted.'[49]

Rabanus Maurus, as we have already stated (supra, p. 12), was the first who endeavoured to draw the parallel between the Christian and the Jewish vestments. The older writers saw the difficulties in the way of establishing a complete correspondence. Thus [Walafrid] Strabo (circa 840), in chapter xxiv of his 'De Rebus Ecclesiasticis,' merely says: 'Numero autem suo antiquis respondent' (In their number they correspond to the ancient vestments); and he further admits that mass was formerly celebrated by a priest robed in everyday dress.[50] But, as the desire to prove the correspondence grew more widespread, changes and additions were rapidly made in the vestments themselves, with a view to assimilating the two systems. In the interval between the ninth and eleventh centuries the number of recognised vestments was doubled by the accretions thus made to the original set.

As the simplest and most intelligible method of exhibiting the extent of these changes, I have drawn up the subjoined table, in which are given the lists of vestments known to writers on ecclesiastical matters during this interval of time. These lists are placed in parallel columns, and a uniform system of nomenclature has been adopted, so that the reader can see at a glance the date of the various additions:

From this table it will be seen that the number of vestments was increased, not so much by the invention of entirely new ornaments, as in the exaltation to the rank of separate 'vestments' of what had previously been subordinate. The ring and staff, for instance, were known to the councillors at Toledo, but they do not appear in these lists till the twelfth century.

We must now discuss each of these vestments, noting their shape and the peculiarities which they presented at different times. It will be convenient to follow the order of the above table.

I. The Alb.—We have traced the history of this vestment from its use as a purely secular garment till the ninth century, and have seen how its proportions, at first ample, were contracted till the vestment fitted with comparative tightness to the body, on account of the greater convenience which the less flowing form of the vestment offered for active administration in Divine service.

The material of which the alb was made was usually linen, of more or less fine quality; but we often meet with entries in old inventories of church goods which enumerate albs of other material. Silk and cloth of gold are very commonly mentioned, and velvet is not unknown. Thus we have

• 'Albe sunt viginti de serico principales.'—Inv. Westminster Abbey, 1388.
• '30 albes of old cloth of Baudkyn.'—Inv. Peterborough, 1539.
• 'One olde aulbe of whyte velvyt.'—Inv. St Martin Dover, 1536.

The proper colour of the alb was white; but in England coloured albs were sometimes worn, and we meet with such vestments in inventories passim. The following is a selection:

• 'Red albes for Passion week, 27.
• '40 Blue albes of divers sorts.
• '7 Albes called Ferial black.'—Inv. Peterborough, 1539.
• 'Alba de rubea sindone brudata.'—Inv. Canterbury.

The ornamentation of the alb, in the earlier years of the third period, sometimes consisted of round gold plates, just above the lower hem of the vestment, one on either side. Occasionally there were rows of small gold plates arranged round the lower edge. Albs of the first kind were called albae sigillatae, from the seal-like appearance of the gold plates. Albs of the second kind were named albae bullatae. Dr Rock quotes the following:

• 'Camisias albas sigillatas holosericas.'—Record of gift of King Æthelwulf to St Peter's, Rome, in Liber Pontific. in Vita Benedicti III, t. iii, p. 168, ed. Vignolio.
• 'Alba bona et bullata.'—Peterborough, A.D. 1189.

The more usual ornamentation, however, and that which became universal in later years, consisted in ornamental patches of embroidery, technically called apparels, sewn on to various parts of the vestment. There were two such rectangular patches just above the lower hem,[51] one in front, one behind; two similar patches, one on the back, the other on the breast; two small patches, one on each cuff; a narrow strip encircling the aperture for the head, more for use (as a binding to prevent tearing) than for ornament; and, in earlier examples, two narrow strips running down in front and two behind, like the clavi of the Roman tunic.

In the earliest representations of albs, as seen on sculptured monuments, the vestment is left plain; one of the earliest apparelled albs being on an effigy to the memory of Bishop Giffard, at Worcester, 1301. This, however, does not imply more than that the apparels were originally painted on, and that the paint has worn off.

Another difference is observable between the cuff-apparels of early effigies and of those of later date. In the early albs the cuff-apparel invariably encircles the whole wrist; but in later specimens we find that it has shrunk to a small square patch, sewn on the part of the sleeve which is toward the back of the hand.

Dr Rock has shown some reason for believing that the apparels were occasionally hung loose over their proper place; the lower hem apparels being suspended from the girdle, and those on the breast and back being fastened together by two cords, between which the head was passed, and which consequently, when in position, ran across the shoulders. This was obviously suggested by convenience; for the entry in the accounts of St Peter's, Sandwich—

'for washing of an awbe and an amyce parteȳing to the vestments of the garters and flour de lice and for sewing on of the parelles of the same, vᵈ'

—tells us what we should have expected, that the apparels had to be removed from the vestment when it was washed, and sewn on again afterwards. It was only natural that some such plan as the loose suspension of the apparels should be followed; for the constant ripping off and sewing on of the embroidery must have been not only laborious, but ultimately detrimental to the vestment.

This entry gives us an instance of another fact, that vestments and suits of vestments were named after the pattern which was embroidered upon their apparels. A singular collection occurs in the Peterborough inventory, including

• '6 albes with Peter keys.
• '6 albes called the Kydds.
• '7 albes called Meltons.
• '6 albes called Doggs.'

Albs were sometimes worn plain, i.e., without apparel. The Salisbury Missal, for example, forbids the apparelled alb to be worn on Good Friday; and it is not at all impossible that some of the plain albs, as represented on early monuments, are really intended for unadorned vestments.

Some difference of opinion seems to exist among the authorities about the mystical signification of this vestment. Rabanus Maurus holds it to inculcate purity of life. Amalarius of Metz, contrasting Jerome's description of the tight-fitting Jewish tunic with the flowing alb of his own day, considers that it denotes the liberty of the New Testament dispensation as contrasted with the servitude of the Old. Pseudo-Alcuin thinks that it means perseverance in good deeds, and that therefore Joseph is described as wearing a tunica talaris among his brethren. 'For a tunic which reaches all the way to the ankles is a good work carried out to the end, for the ankle is the end of the body.' Ivo of Chartres asserts that it signifies the mortification and chastisement of the members. Honorius of Autun agrees more or less with Rabanus Maurus; but Innocent III regards it as symbolical of newness of life, 'because it is as unlike as possible to the garments of skins which are made from dead animals, and with which Adam was clothed after his fall.'

The following dimensions are among those given by Mrs Dolby as the correct measurements of an alb for a figure of medium height and ordinary proportions:

II. The Girdle, with which the alb is secured, is a narrow band, usually of silk, the ends of which terminate in a tassel.

The colour of the girdle is properly white, though occasionally it varied with the colour of the day. Though (as stated) properly of silk, it is sometimes made of cotton.

Occasionally the girdle was embroidered in colours. In the Westminster inventory of 1388 we have:

• 'Zone serice sunt septem diversi operis et diversorum colorum.'

The following is a selection of the esoteric meanings ascribed to this vestment: custodia mentis; discretio omnium virtutum; virtus continentiae; perfecta Christi caritas.

The length of the girdle is stated at about four yards. The length of the alb, it should be noticed, was so considerable that it was necessary to draw it through the girdle and let it hang over above it. It is therefore extremely rare (if not unknown) for the girdle to be visible on mediaeval monuments, for even in those exceptional effigies in which the whole length of the alb is visible, the latter vestment entirely conceals the girdle by falling over it.

III. The Amice.—This vestment was quite unknown in the earlier period: it was a mediaeval invention.

The amice was clearly originally intended to serve as a hood; and a survival of this use remains in the ritual of vesting, in which the priest first places the vestment on his head, with the prayer 'Impone Domine capiti meo galeam salutis ad expugnandum diabolicos incursus,' before adjusting it round his neck.

In several dioceses of France the amice was worn as a hood upon the head from All Saints' Day till Easter, and something of the same kind may have been the practice elsewhere; thus, we find an effigy of a priest in Towyn, Merionethshire, and another in Beverley Minster, in which the amice is drawn over the head hoodwise.

In shape the amice was a rectangle (the dimensions are given as thirty-six inches by twenty-five inches). At each end strings were sewn, which were of sufficient length to cross over the breast and encircle the body. An apparel of embroidered work ran along one of the long sides; so that when the vestment was in position it was turned down, like a collar, over the other vestments round the neck, and so far open as to leave the throat of the wearer exposed. A small cross was marked in the centre of the upper edge of the vestment.

So much of this vestment was concealed that there appears to have been little or no scope for variety of treatment, either in form or material. The latter seems always to have been linen. The orphreys (embroidered edges), of course, are subject to the same unlimited variation of design as the corresponding ornaments on other vestments; but the shape is constant.

The same uniformity is not, however, observable in the symbolism of this vestment. The variety of meanings is even greater than is the case with the alb and its girdle. We are told that it signifies (inter alia) the Holy Incarnation; the purity of good works; the subjugation of the tongue; the earthy origin and heavenly goal of the human body; the necessity of justice and mercy in addition to temperance and abstention from evil; and the endurance of present hardships.

IV. The Stole.—The early history of the stole has been discussed in the preceding chapter, in considering the orarium.

Why, or when, the proper name of the vestment became 'stole,' or stola, does not appear. It is named stola in the later ecclesiastical canons of our second period; but it is not clear how stola, which in its original significance denoted a flowing tunic, like the under-garment of the Roman or the alba of the priests of the second period, came to signify a narrow strip of orphrey-work. It is quite certain that it cannot be explained (as some writers have attempted to do) as the orphrey of a lost vestment which has survived while the bulk of it has disappeared; for the continuity of the stole and the orarium is a matter of historic certainty, and we have already shown reason for assigning an entirely different origin to the latter vestment. Such an evolution, too, as that of a narrow strip from a large vestment is not natural, and is contrary to our observation in the history of other vestments; and it assumes the existence of embroidered 'orphreys' at a time far too remote for such ornamentation to be found. This hypothesis has suggested one of the less probable etymologies which have been proposed for the word orarium.

Fig. 6.—Stole-ends, showing Varieties in Form and Ornament.

The stole is a narrow strip of embroidered work, nine or ten feet long and two or three inches wide. In its original form it was of the same width throughout; but about the thirteenth or fourteenth century we find its ends terminating in a rectangular compartment, giving each the appearance of a tau cross. This was in order to secure extra room for the cross with which every stole was supposed to be marked at the end. For the same purpose the modern stole expands gradually from the middle point, where also a cross is embroidered.

Priests wear the stole between the alb and chasuble, crossed over the breast, and secured in that position by the girdle of the alb—nowadays only when officiating at mass, formerly on all occasions on which the stole was worn. Deacons generally secure it over the left shoulder and under the right arm, thereby approximating the disposition of the vestment to that of the ancient Roman ornament from which the vestment takes its origin. Bishops wear the stole between the alb and tunicle[52] pendent perpendicularly on either side of the breast; the pectoral cross which they wear is supposed to supply the place of the crossed stole.

The embroidery and material of the stole were supposed to tally with that of the alb, with which it was worn. The same rule applies to the maniple, and we commonly find in inventories that the three vestments are catalogued together. But if we can trust the evidence of brasses and other monuments, the vestments of different suits were worn together in a very haphazard manner, and it does not seem possible to extract any definite rule as to the collocation of different vestments embroidered with different patterns of orphreys.

The ends of the stole—below the embroidered cross when such existed—terminated in a fringe; and it was not uncommon in earlier years for little bells to be included in this fringe. Thus we have:

• 'Una stola cum frixio Anglicano cum perlis albis et endicis et campanellis.'—Inv. Vest. Papae Bonif. VIII, cit. ap. Rock, 'Church of our Fathers.'

The stole is said to signify 'the easy yoke of Christ.' Authorities earlier than the twelfth century are agreed on this point, though they differ on some minor details in the subordinate symbolism of its length, disposition, etc. But Honorius of Autun asserts that it signifies 'innocence,' and makes some vague and, to the present writer, unintelligible allusions to Esau's sale of his birthright; while Innocent III, with a faint reminiscence of the earlier exegesis, declares it to signify the servitude which Christ underwent for the salvation of mankind—referring to Phil. ii 5-8.

V. The Maniple.—The history of the development of the maniple follows closely on that of the stole. With a very few exceptions, the maniple, as represented on mediaeval monuments, differs from the stole, with which it is associated, in size alone.[53]

Fig. 7.—Archbishop Stigand. (From the Bayeux tapestry, showing maniple carried over fingers.)

The maniple was originally worn over the fingers of the left hand. This arrangement was most inconvenient, as it was constantly liable to slip off, and the fingers had to be held in a constrained attitude throughout the service. It was early found more comfortable and convenient to place the vestment over the left wrist; but no definite rule seems to have been formulated, and, indeed, in some parts of France the earlier custom seems to have survived till the middle of the eighteenth century. When placed on the wrist it was either buttoned or sewn so as to form a permanent loop, so that it should not slip off the arm.

In a few effigies the maniple is represented on the right wrist. For this there is no liturgical authority, and it can only be attributed to the blundering of the engraver or sculptor.[54]

In reference to its original utilitarian purpose, Amalarius assigns to the maniple the significance of the 'purification of the mind.' Pseudo-Alcuin holds it to denote this present life (in qua superfluos humores patimur). It is also said to denote penitence, caution, and the prize in the racecourse.

The width of the maniple is the same as that of the stole—the length is given at from three feet to three feet eight inches.

VI. The Dalmatic.—I am unable to find any representation of this vestment older than the ninth century, showing the special features which distinguished it from the other vestments of the mediaeval period. Before that date the dalmatic seems to have been identical with the alba, possibly distinguished from it by being a little shorter when, as at Rome, the two vestments were worn together.

Fig. 8.—Deacon in Episcopal Dalmatic. (From Randworth Church.)

Fig. 9.—Deacon in Diaconal Dalmatic.

In the mediaeval period, however, this vestment (and its modification, the tunicle) is marked out from all others by being slit up a short distance on either side. These side-slits were decorated with fringes; but here an important theoretical distinction must be observed between the dalmatic of a bishop and that of a deacon. This was often neglected in mediaeval times, and is consequently frequently overlooked by ecclesiologists of the present day. In the dalmatic, as worn by a bishop, the side-slits, the lower hems, and the ends of the sleeves were fringed; in the dalmatic of a deacon there were also fringes, but only on the left sleeve and along the left slit.

The true reason for this distinction is probably to be sought in the same direction as that which prompted the peculiar diaconal method of wearing the orarium—convenience. The deacon, who was practically the servitor at the altar, required to have his right side free and unhampered as much as possible; the heavy fringes, which might have impeded him, were therefore dispensed with upon that side. But such an explanation would by no means satisfy the early mediaeval writers on vestments, and we are accordingly informed that as the left side typifies this present life and the right that which is to come, so the fringes on the left indicate those cares through which we must pass in this world, while their absence on the right symbolizes our freedom from care in the world to come. Why the bishop was not regarded as exempt from care in the future world does not appear.

Another singular piece of blundering meets us at St David's Cathedral. Here we have two effigies representing clerics, who, though they wear the dalmatic, yet show the stole disposed symmetrically, in the manner of priests.[55] Either the presence of the dalmatic or the presbyteral stole must be incorrect; but in our ignorance of the identity of the persons whom these effigies commemorate we cannot decide which. Bloxam's idea, that these figures represent archdeacons, though ingenious, is untenable; for there is no authority for assigning the dalmatic to an archdeacon of priestly grade; and we have other figures of priests known to have been archdeacons in various parts of England, none of which show the dalmatic.

The ornamentation of the dalmatic before the twelfth century consisted either of vertical bands (like the clavi) or else of horizontal bands, of orphrey-work. After that date the plain white vestment was superseded by one covered all over with elaborate embroidery. This is especially the case with the episcopal dalmatic, which is only what we should have expected.

We have already stated one symbolical meaning attaching to the dalmatic and its appurtenances. A few more may be of interest: the Passion of Christ; the 'pure religion and undefiled,' as described by St James; the Old and New Testaments; the crucifixion of the world in the wearer; the wide mercy of Christ, etc.

All of the early writers are misled by the decree of Pope Sylvester into imagining that Sylvester first instituted this garment as a purely ecclesiastical vestment; some even go the length of assigning a mystical meaning to the colobium, which it superseded. Even Walafrid Strabo, who in many respects is the least mystical of the early mediaeval writers on ecclesiastical vestments, is deceived, though he wisely contents himself with stating the fact that Sylvester had so commanded, without attempting to assign any reason for his so doing.

VII. The Chasuble.—The variety of materials of which the chasuble was made may be gathered from the following extracts from the Lincoln Inventory of 1536:

• 'Imprimis a Chesable of rede cloth of gold wᵗ orfreys before and behind sett wᵗ perles blew white and rede wᵗ plaits of gold enamelled.'
• 'Item a Chesuble of Rede velvett wᵗ kateryn wheils of gold.'
• 'Item a chesuble of Rede sylk browdered wᵗ falcons & leopardes of gold.'
• 'Item a chesable of whyte damaske browdered wᵗ flowres of gold.'
• 'Item a chesable of whyte tartaron̄ browdered wᵗ treyfoyles of gold.'
• 'Item a chesable of purpur satten lynyd wᵗ blew bukerham havyng dyverse scripturs.'
• 'Item a chesable of cloth of tyshew wᵗ orfreys of nedyll wark.'
• 'Item a chesable of sundon browdered wᵗ mones & sterres lyned wᵗ blew bukerham.'

Of the materials here mentioned the commonest were velvet, silk, or cloth of gold.

In the latest days of the transitional and the earliest days of the mediaeval period, there were two kinds of chasubles in use, the eucharistic and the processional. The distinction between them was utilitarian rather than ritualistic; it consisted in a hood sewn to the back of the latter, and designed as a covering for the head during outdoor processions in inclement weather. But the processional chasuble early gave place to the cope; and a hooded chasuble does not appear to be extant in representations of date later than the tenth century.

The manner in which the early chasubles were made seems to have been as follows: A semicircular piece of the cloth of which the vestment was to consist was taken, and a notch cut at the centre, so that the shape of the cloth resembled that of the figure in the annexed diagram; the two straight edges corresponding to the lines AB and CD were then brought together and sewn; the result was a vestment somewhat of extinguisher shape, with a hole in the middle for the neck, and enveloping the body all round to an equal depth each way. The result was that when the priest had to raise his hands the vestment was gathered inconveniently on either shoulder, and probably injured by being crushed, certainly hampering the wearer by its weight. This difficulty was surmounted by a very simple expedient. The cloth, instead of being shaped as before, was cut into an oval form, and an opening was made at the centre for the wearer's head, the consequence being that when in position the vestment hung down over the front and back to some distance, and covered the upper part of the arms, though not sufficiently so to interfere with their free action. The latter shape is that which meets us all through the mediaeval period throughout the Western Church.

The modern Roman Church has made yet another innovation which, although it has its disadvantages, certainly reduces the inconvenience of the vestment to a minimum. Two fairly large semicircular pieces are cut from each side of the front of the vestment, thereby permitting the hands to be brought together when necessary without crushing the vestment between the forearms, which was inevitable in the old form. But the wasp-waisted appearance of this chasuble is ugly, and attempts are being made to abolish it and to return to the mediaeval pattern.

Fig. 10.—Sir Peter Legh, Knight and Priest. (From his brass at Winwick. Vested in chasuble only.)

Yet another small distinction is to be found in the shape of individual examples of the mediaeval period. We find many of these vestments to be made circular or elliptical, so that the lower border is rounded off; while many others are found to be made in the shape known as the vesica piscis, so that the lower extremities terminate in a point more or less sharp. Writers who cannot be content with simple or commonplace explanations of such phenomena as this have laboured in vain to invent some esoteric signification which will account for it. Perhaps the most common-sense guess is that made by Dr Rock, who thinks that the rounded chasuble was used during the period of rounded architecture—the Saxon and Norman—and the pointed chasuble during the pointed periods of architecture: a suggestion which we should have no difficulty in accepting at once, were it not for the fact that scores of brasses and other monuments of the Curvilinear and Rectilinear periods in architecture exist showing rounded chasubles; while (among others) the effigy of Bishop John de Tour, at Bathampton near Bath, A.D. 1123, shows a pointed vestment. We have no space to enter into particulars of the other suggestions—the symbolism of the vesica piscis, the perfection of the circle, etc.

The simple explanation seems to be that the difference depended merely on the taste and fancy of the seamstress or of the engraver of the monument. It would be perfectly possible to draw up a list of monuments in which the point of the chasuble shows every stage from extreme sharpness to extreme bluntness, and so, by one step further, into a continuous curve. This demonstrates that no rule was necessarily followed in choosing the shape of the chasuble, beyond that of making a fairly symmetrical vestment which should hang down in front and behind, and should have a hole in the middle through which the priest's head should be passed. Nor can we even say that fashion affected the shape of the vestment; for were such a list as I have mentioned to be printed here, it would be seen to consist of the most haphazard and random series of dates and names of places thrown together without the slightest regard to chronological sequence or geographical position.

The dimensions of a pointed chasuble (circa fourteenth century) at Aix-la-Chapelle, which has been accepted as a standard for modern imitation, are given as follows:

The chasuble of St Thomas of Canterbury, at Sens Cathedral, which is of the old extinguisher shape, is three feet ten inches in depth. In the oldest chasubles the length of the vestment behind was greater—often much greater—than in front. There is a more even balance between back and front in later mediaeval times.

Passing now from the manner of making the chasuble to the manner of ornamenting it, we find just the same divergence, with apparently just as little rule. It is probable that, as the decoration was the most costly part of the manufacture of a chasuble, the amount of it was regulated by the resources available to pay for it.

We propose to consider at the end of the next chapter the classes of patterns with which vestments generally were decorated in the middle ages; at present, therefore, we shall confine ourselves to noticing briefly the positions in which these decorations were placed on the chasuble.