Embroidered Heraldry
The romantic associations that embroidered heraldry call to mind,
of fair fingers working the devices on battle flags and on knightly
surcoats, render it a subject of the utmost fascination, and although
its adequate treatment would demand more space than can be devoted to
it here, it will still be possible to refer in some measure to an art
that, like the heraldry it embodied, touched in one way or another all
the life of the Middle Ages and has transmitted no little of its beauty
and charm to the work of our own time.
Long before heraldry was formulated noble ladies practised the art
and found in it a delightful occupation. Embroidered heraldry is even
alluded to in that dim time where myth and history meet, as when the
Raven banner of the Vikings, the dread Landeyda, desolation of the
land, was woven and embroidered in one noontide by the daughters of
Reyner Lodbrock, son of Sigurd.
In England in the sixth century Aldelswitha, a noble Saxon lady,
taught the art to some young girls and so formed the first school
of art needlework of which we have any record. The four daughters
of Edward the Elder were celebrated embroiderers, and there was a
constant succession of skilled needleworkers whose names and even many
of their notable works were handed down as worthy of remembrance;
the altar cloths and vestments, covered with golden eagles, that had
been worked by Queen Aelgitha the wife of Canute among many others.
And the reputation was not merely a local one, but throughout Europe
the praises are recorded of the Opus Anglicum, whose name, from being
at first a general one, afterwards acquired a particular technical
meaning. The excellence that called forth such universal appreciation
continued throughout the mediaeval period, as when in the thirteenth
century Pope Innocent III was enthusiastic in its praise. In the
development of heraldry embroidery found a congenial subject, and
ladies busied themselves in depicting with the needle their husbands’
armorials, as their predecessors had pictured the incidents of their
own times, on hallings and banners and emblazoned garments, such
employment being a frequent subject of the beautiful illuminations of
the painted MSS. which had so much affinity with fine needlework, from
which it copied and was itself copied in return.
Ecclesiastical vestments and altar frontals contain much heraldry, and
the Syon Cope, that most interesting work of the thirteenth century,
contains on its orphreys and borders some sixty coats of arms on round
or diamond shaped shields. One of those on the orphreys is shown at
Fig. 223, although it is perhaps more curious than beautiful.
[Illustration: FIG. 223.--Arms of Geneville from the Syon Cope.]
Among the earliest examples of heraldic embroidery that survive is the
surcoat of Edward the Black Prince, no less admirable in its way than
the already mentioned shield, and on account of its unique character it
is necessarily reproduced again and again. It consists of the arms of
the shield translated into terms of embroidery, and if it were but in
better preservation a finer model for heraldic work it would be hardly
possible to conceive. This is but one of the many splendid heraldic
garments of which so little remains, but which are depicted on the
monumental effigies with absolute fidelity. Of the latter fact this
surcoat is one of the proofs, for its copy on the effigies was made
with such accuracy that even the faults of the needlework are there.[2]
The embroidery of badges on garments instead of the regular arms was
also common, as witness the effigies of Richard II and his Queen, Anne
of Bohemia, in Westminster Abbey.
FOOTNOTES:
[2] _Needlework as Art_, Lady Marion Alford.
[Illustration: FIG. 224.--Embroidered Cap with badges, Victoria and
Albert Museum. Sixteenth Century.]
A sixteenth century example of embroidered badges, a cap of fine linen
beautifully worked with fleurs-de-lis and roses as the principal
motives, is in the Victoria and Albert Museum, and is reproduced in
Fig. 224.
[Illustration: FIG. 225.--Altar Frontal in Embroidered Linen, Victoria
and Albert Museum.]
Another example of embroidered linen (Fig. 225) in the Victoria and
Albert Museum, is an altar frontal which is decorated with heraldic
motives in appliqué work.
[Illustration: FIG. 226.--Embroidered Badge. Part of the Insignia of
Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy. Fifteenth Century.]
Some interesting and instructive fragments of embroidery exist in the
Museum at Berne, part of the spoil taken from the tent of Charles
the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, after the disastrous Battle of Grandson
in 1476. Fig. 226 is the badge, the flint and steel, of the Great
Burgundian Order of the Golden Fleece, whose insignia are conspicuous
in the decoration of the next century in association with the Emperors
Maximilian and Charles V. In this instance the steel striker serves as
a space for the quartered arms of Burgundy, Limbourg and Flanders. Fig.
227 shows the same arms on what was perhaps part of the bardings, the
tournament or other ceremonial drapery of a charger.
[Illustration: FIG. 227.--Heraldic Embroidery. Part of the Insignia of
Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy. Fifteenth Century.]
Both show admirably how heraldic embroidery should be done, namely, in
flat applique strongly designed and simply executed. The sable lions of
Flanders are conclusive proofs of how heraldic vigour and decorative
distribution may be attained in embroidery.
Towards the end of the sixteenth century embroidery began to be padded
into relief, a practice which afterwards developed to a remarkable
extent in spite of its inartistic unsuitability to the material
and work. It was naturally least offensive in its beginnings, and
the shield of Eric XIV, King of Sweden (Fig. 228), is a somewhat
exceptionally good example of the heraldry of its time (about 1560).
The arms are well-designed, the lions of the fourth quarter, Denmark,
being particularly spirited, while the execution is very excellent of
its kind.
[Illustration: FIG. 228.--Arms of Eric XIV, King of Sweden. Berne
Museum. About 1560.]
An instance of domestic embroidery occurs in Fig. 229, where the arms
of James I are used as a centre to a design that is, in the main,
floral.
[Illustration: FIG. 229.--Arms of James I. Victoria and Albert Museum.
Early Seventeenth Century.]
Work of the highest heraldic importance must always have been that
of the banners, as the very concentration of battle heraldry, but of
these, alas! there are no very early examples.
The banners of the Knights of the Garter in St. George’s Chapel were
doubtless all embroidered formerly, as that of the Sovereign still
is, but they have for long been done in an inferior way, even as the
painted stall plates superseded their enamelled predecessors.
Of the various forms of flag that were in use in the day of
the tournament and even survived, at funeral ceremonies, until
comparatively modern times, the principal were the Banner, the Pennon
and the Standard. The Banner, sometimes called the Great Banner, was
square in shape and bore the arms of its lord exactly as they were
borne on his shield, i.e., occupying the whole surface. Its use was
confined to such knights as were especially privileged, and who were
therefore called Knights Bannerets, and to nobles of higher rank.
Although the banner as such bore the whole arms of the shield, other
large and square flags, even when charged with badges, were sometimes
called by the same name when employed for a special purpose, as, for
instance, the banner of the Red Dragon of Cadwallader that was borne at
Bosworth Field.
The Pennon was a long pointed flag, which was borne by a knight and
was charged with his arms or device. The cutting off of the tail of
the pennon, leaving the flag square, conferred on its owner the right
to have a banner thenceforward, which ceremony of creating a Banneret
always took place on the field of battle and under the royal banner
displayed. The Standard, properly so-called, was also a pointed flag,
though banners were sometimes called standards when they were flown
from a mast that was either fixed in the ground or was supported on
a solid platform or wagon. From this comes the inaccurate custom of
describing the Royal Banner as the Royal Standard. The Standard always,
in England, had the national emblem, the Cross of St. George, next the
staff, and the remainder of the flag was of the owner’s colours, and
was charged with his badges and motto (Fig. 230).
[Illustration: FIG. 230.--A Standard. Sixteenth Century.]
The early form of the banner was higher than it was long, that is
to say, the hoist, that part of a flag that is next the staff, was
greater than the fly or the length from the staff to the further edge
of the flag, and that shape continued throughout the Tudor period;
later, however, the form became more square and finally extended in
the other direction until at the present time the Admiralty pattern
is greater in length than in height in the proportion of two to one.
This has, no doubt, been arranged as the best suited to naval use, and
for the Union Flag and for the Ensigns it appears satisfactory, but
when a more armorial sort of flag is in question the naval proportion
becomes more or less objectionable according to the nature of the
bearings. In the Royal Banner, as so proportioned, the difficulty of
designing the rampant lion of the Scottish quarter, so that it may be
well distributed in its space and still vigorous, or of the Irish harp
so that it may properly balance with the other quarterings, is nearly
insuperable.
When we remember that the whole plan on which armorial bearings are
devised is based on filling an upright space, the shield shape, it is
not difficult to understand how it is that the attempt to adapt such
emblems to a horizontal space so frequently suggests the ludicrous
effect of a distorting mirror. There is of course no reason why the
proportion of flags should be the same whether they are flown on land
or sea, and this is very properly recognized in regimental colours and
in the banners of the Knights of the Garter at Windsor, all of which
are more nearly square.
Animals on flags, and also on the bardings of horses, always faced
towards the staff in the one case and towards the head of the horse
in the other, and this for a very natural reason. The flag flowing
backward would cause the figure that turned towards its staff to face
in the direction of advance and the figures on the bardings would, of
course, have the same direction under the similar circumstances, while
it is evident that if they faced in the opposite direction they would
inevitably have given rise to the offensive gibe that they were running
away.
The banner that concerns us more especially, the Union Jack, may have
its essential construction explained by reference to the diagrams in
Fig. 231. First we have two of the three national emblems (1) and (2),
the cross of St. George and the saltire of St. Andrew, as they had long
been used by England and Scotland respectively. Soon after King James
succeeded to the English Crown a banner was made (3) which combined
the two by placing the red cross of St. George (with a narrow line,
taken from its white field, left round it) over that of St. Andrew, and
thence was formed the first Union Jack, under which the great naval
actions of the eighteenth century were fought.
At the Union with Ireland, in 1801, a fresh element, a red saltire on
a white field for St. Patrick (4), was introduced, and the red of St.
Patrick and the white of St. Andrew were united in equal proportions in
this manner--(5), the red being made to retain a little of its white
field as St. George had done formerly, and the result so far appears
in--(6). The cross of St. George, with its white edge, was then placed
over all, to complete the Union Jack as we know it. This will be found
quite easy to follow if care is taken to remember the construction,
and that the lines from corner to corner of the flag divide equally
the broad white and the red of the saltires. Also that in the upper
quarter, next the staff, the broad white must be uppermost, and for
this reason: it is heraldically usual to begin a counter-change of two
tinctures, a metal (silver or white) and a colour (red), by naming the
metal first. Further, the tincture that is mentioned first is always
placed next above the line of diagonal division. Therefore, as the
blazon in the warrant is a “saltire per saltire quarterly argent and
gules,” the white must be where it is. And so any possible question of
precedence was automatically avoided.
[Illustration: FIG. 231.]
The form of the flag as shown on the Royal Warrant of 1801 is seen in
(7), and is that which has been followed in regimental colours. In this
it will be observed that in consequence of the narrow white of the
saltire being a fimbriation that is added to the red the outline of the
saltire does not register across. The Admiralty pattern, however, in
what one cannot but feel was an unnecessary effort to avoid this, seems
to place narrow red strips on top of the white saltire, so that the
outside diagonal lines manage to register, but the result is to reduce
St. Patrick’s half of the joint saltire by the width of the narrow
white.
Now, the evident intention in devising the flag was to effect equal
representation of Scotland and Ireland in order to lessen the
probability of quarrels such as had occurred between the Scotch and
English seamen before the first Union Jack was made in the early
seventeenth century; and this is perfectly effected by the pattern of
the Royal Warrant.
The intention of equality is also evidenced in the warrant by similar
care in designing the Union badge of Rose, Thistle, and Shamrock, for
after the badge has been described as a rose with a thistle on one side
and a trefoil on the other, the description is carefully repeated, but
with the positions of the shamrock and thistle reversed, the obvious
intention being to remove any ground for a claim to priority that might
have arisen by assigning the dexter side to one emblem in preference
to the other. Indeed I have known exception to be taken to a perfectly
correct rendering of this Union Badge, under the impression that such
precedence did in fact exist.
Another form of banner which survives is that which was, from a very
early period, used to decorate trumpets and is still so employed by
the trumpeters of the Household Cavalry and by those of the Sheriffs
of counties for use on occasions of ceremony. Such decorations usually
contain the arms alone, as a great banner does, but there are also
instances of badges being borne on them and also complete armorial
insignia. They are tied to the instruments by ribbons or laces, and
hang squarely down. The bearings, whether simple or complex, are made
to read upright, when the trumpet is held horizontally, as though they
were on a hanging shield. This is, of course, the natural way, though
there are instances to the contrary.
As we have seen, flags were generally embroidered and with more or
less elaboration according to the circumstances which influenced other
heraldic treatment. Frequently they were done in cutwork, sewn down and
done over with beautiful needlework and even adorned with gems. The
greatest artists were employed to design them, Sandro Botticelli among
many others.
The methods of the missal painter in his use of gold lines for lights
and other definitions and decorations were employed in the needlework,
indeed all the arts of illuminated decoration, taking the term in its
widest sense, copied from each other, but each adapted the method to
its own needs and materials; and that is the gist of the whole matter.
At the beginning, in the seventeenth century, of the period that was
so fatal to all decorative art, when embroidery took what was probably
thought to be a wonderful new departure, its subjects were raised to
an increasing height from the ground where before it had been flatly
treated. Thenceforward the embroidery became lumpy as the heraldry
became weak, and both were alike inartistic until comparatively
recently, until in fact it began to be again recognized that the
mediaeval artists were right, that the right way to use a material was
the natural way and not in attempting to make it resemble something
else. At the time referred to it seems to have been thought that the
more embroidery was made to look like a coloured relief and the less
like embroidery the better embroidery it was, and therefore the lions,
for example, were stuffed up and raised as high as possible and the
whole effect became coarse and clumsy, an effect that was largely
contributed to by the inferior design.
The costliness of embroidery helped the introduction of painted
banners, which in time, assisted by the decay of embroidered as
of other decorative arts, superseded the needlework. However, the
inferiority of the painted banner was always recognized, and although
even the banners of the Knights of the Garter had come to be done in
the cheaper method, that which hung over the stall of the Sovereign
continued to be embroidered, as it is to this day. The present banner
is beautifully worked, and is on the correct lines of flat design.
In painted banners, usually of silk, the material is strained in a
frame, by means of laces passed through tapes sewn to the edges, and
the design being drawn or pounced on it, is carefully gone over with
size, which fills the interstices of the silk, and when dry forms an
excellent surface for the subsequent gilding and painting in oils.
There can be no doubt, however, that embroidery, now that it has so
brilliantly revived, is the method of all others in which modern
banners should be executed, and if this were recognized there need
be no lack of opportunity. Among others the trumpet banners of the
Sheriffs who every year are appointed to the respective counties, are
used to display their arms during the year of office, and afterwards,
their official life being ended, are frequently made into screens for
domestic use. It is in this connexion that their method of production
becomes of especial importance. Their somewhat tawdry and incongruous
appearance is quickly felt, and they soon disappear into the retirement
that they merit.
The banners of the City Companies would better decorate their venerable
halls if fashioned in beautiful needlework, and when they were carried
in the procession on Lord Mayor’s Day would impart a gleam of real
splendour into that properties-in-daylight pageant. The painted banners
could still serve for bad weather flags.
[Illustration: FIG. 232.--Bed Cover, Flemish Work. Victoria and Albert
Museum.]
In modern heraldic embroidery the design is the weak point, but
improvement would certainly follow the study of good early work
and also of good examples of other decorative methods if they were
intelligently adapted to the materials employed. The purpose and
character of the object must influence the work, and considerations of
weight and substance affect the making of a banner, which is to wave
and flow, at least to some extent that would not need to be insisted on
in a framed panel. Not that the treatment need be wholly flat, like
the diagrammatic shield of an early roll of arms, for it may well
have such definition of the charges as are seen on the Black Prince’s
surcoat; also the complete form of an object may be sufficiently
suggested without the employment of methods more suitable to another
material. Thus, it is not particularly difficult to indicate that a
thing is round without making it as round as possible.
[Illustration: FIG. 233.--Design for Lace. Arms of Frederick II, King
of Denmark. From the pattern-book of the Duchess of Brunswick.]
LACE.--Although heraldry does not appear to have been so extensively
practised in lace as in other forms of needlework, it is still used to
a considerable extent, and generally as a device that is introduced as
a personal detail in a large pattern.
Among the few examples of heraldic lace at South Kensington are a piece
of English needlepoint and the bedcover of Flemish work in which the
double-headed eagle is well done (Fig. 232), which will repay study,
and serve to explain the method of this kind of work.
The method of making the preliminary designs for lace is set forth in
the pattern-books which began to be produced in the sixteenth century,
and of which very interesting examples are extant. The lace design,
Fig. 233, is from a book of patterns which belonged to the Duchess
of Brunswick and is now in the National Art Library of the Victoria
and Albert Museum, and represents the arms of Frederick II, King of
Denmark. It has the usual characteristics of the German heraldry of its
time.