CHAPTER III._Ecclesiastical Vestments: Their development and history

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 Walfrid 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:

+------------+--------------+------------+-------------+-------------+

+------------+--------------+------------+-------------+-------------+

| Alb | Alb | Alb | Alb | Alb |

| -- | -- | Stockings | -- | Stockings |

| -- | -- | -- | Subcingulum | Subcingulum |

| -- | -- | -- | Rational | -- |

| -- | -- | -- | Mitre | Mitre |

| -- | -- | -- | Gloves | Gloves |

| -- | -- | -- | Ring | Ring |

| -- | -- | -- | Staff | Staff |

| -- | -- | -- | -- | Tunicle |

| -- | -- | -- | -- | Orale |

+------------+--------------+------------+-------------+-------------+

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:

ft. in.

Length behind when made 4 9

Length before 4 5

Depth of shoulder-band 0 8½

Width of same 0 1¼

Length of sleeve, outside of arm 2 1½

Width of sleeve at wrist folded in two 0 6½

Width of sleeve half-way up 0 9½

Length of neck-band 2 2½

Width of same 0 1¼

Opening down front 1 1½

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_.

[Illustration: 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]

[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration: FIG. 8.—DEACON IN EPISCOPAL DALMATIC. (From Randworth

Church.)]

[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: FIG. 10.—SIR PETER LEGH, KNIGHT AND PRIEST. (From his

brass at Winwick. Vested in chasuble only.)]

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.

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:

ft. in.

Depth of shoulder, measuring from neck 2 9

Length of side, from shoulder to point 4 11

Depth from neck to point in front 4 6

" " " behind 4 10

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.

The groundwork of the vestment was either plain (invariably so in the

older examples) or else embroidered or woven with a pattern, according

to taste and means; the ornamentation proper consisted of strips of

embroidered or 'orphrey' work, as it is technically called, sewn on to

the vestment. These strips were sewn either on the edge or crosswise on

the front and back of the chasuble.

The edge orphrey is the more frequently met with in the brasses of

parish priests, and it is rarely so elaborately decorated as are the

central orphreys. It usually consisted of some simple pattern of flowers

or geometrical figures recurring at regular intervals round the edge.

Greater variety is seen in the shape of the central orphrey, which,

being the more elaborate and expensive, is almost invariably found

represented in the monuments of bishops, abbots, and other dignitaries,

and in the effigies of priests of the richer churches. It sometimes,

though rarely, consisted of a simple 'pillar' on the front and on the

back of the vestment; usually this ornamentation was extended by the

addition of branches of orphrey work given off on either side, which

passed over the shoulder and joined the corresponding branches of the

other pillar, the result being that the orphrey on front and back had

the appearance of the Greek Ψ, or of a Latin cross with oblique arms.

When the bands were so disposed, the pillar on the front was called the

_pectoral_, the pillar on the back the _dorsal_, and the auxiliary

bands, which passed over the shoulders, the _humeral_ orphreys. Very

frequently this design was varied by omitting the part of the pectoral

and dorsal bands above their intersection with the humeral; this

resulted in the 'Y cross,' which we find in so many effigies in our

cathedrals and churches. In a few examples the Y or Ψ is inverted, and

in some it gives off auxiliary branches, so as to resemble (_e.g._) the

figure ✶. It would, however, be waste of time and space to enter further

into a discussion of what was not regulated by any definite rule, but

depended on caprice, or, at most, on pecuniary considerations. More

often than not the central orphrey, of whatever form, is combined with

the edge orphrey, and is usually of a different pattern from it.

In many early chasubles the front and back are charged with an

embroidered Latin cross. This is also the case with the back of the

modern Roman or slit vestment.

When the Y orphrey was placed on the chasuble, the space between it and

the neck on the back was usually filled with an elaborate floral design

embroidered in gold or crimson. Sometimes (not always) this extended

round the neck, and was repeated in front. To this ornament the special

name of 'flower' has been attached.

The chasuble surmounts and safeguards all the other vestments; hence the

chasuble signifies love, which surmounts all the other virtues, and

safeguards and illumines their beauty with its protection; so says

Rabanus Maurus, prettily enough. Amalarius disagrees; he holds that as

the chasuble is common to all clerics, so it ought to set forth the

works which are common to all: fasting, thirsting, watching, poverty,

reading, singing, praying, and the rest. The pseudo-Alcuin and Ivo of

Chartres agree with Rabanus, though for different reasons. Innocent III,

however, holds it to signify the virtue of apostolical succession: 'For

this is the vestment of Aaron, to the skirt of which the oil ran down;

but it ran down from his head to his beard and from his beard to the

skirt. Forasmuch as we all receive of His spirit, first the Apostles,

afterwards the rest.' Further, he goes on to say that because the

stretching out of the hands divides the chasuble into two complete and

similar parts, so that vestment typifies the old and new church before

and after the time of Christ.

VIII. _The Sandals._—The sandals of the Roman citizens are well

known—mere soles, secured across the instep by one or more thongs of

leather, and clearly designed to protect the wearer from stony roads

without unnecessarily cramping or confining his feet—an important

consideration in a hot climate.

Such a sandal must have been worn by the early clergy as Roman citizens,

and probably long continued in use among the lower orders of clerics. It

was, and still is, the only foot-covering of certain monastic orders,

and in some cases was retained even by monks who had attained to

episcopal rank. In St Canice's Cathedral, Kilkenny, which contains a

unique collection of mediaeval effigies and incised slabs, superior in

merit to many better-known specimens of mediaeval art, there exists a

most interesting effigy of a former bishop, de Ledrede, who died _circa_

1350. He is represented fully vested in Eucharistic dress; but in place

of the episcopal sandals, which an ordinary bishop would have worn, he

wears the simpler monastic sandal, which covers only the sole and

instep; and shows the cord of St Francis hanging below his alb.

The extension of the Church into more northern and colder regions, and

the importation of foreign customs into the southern metropolis itself,

probably suggested the transformation of the somewhat scanty sandal into

a more appropriate and more comfortable shoe. The traditions of the old

custom were, however, long maintained in a curious way: the upper

leathers of the shoe were fenestrated or cut into open-work patterns,

the result being that the bare surface of the foot showed through and

displayed the decoration in light flesh-tint against the dark leather of

the shoe. When the episcopal stocking was added to the equipment of the

bishop, the colour became bright scarlet, though the effect remained

much the same.

The fenestrated sandals were abandoned about the fourteenth century in

favour of shoes, in shape very much resembling the modern ankle-shoe. It

would have been inconsistent, however, with the spirit of the fourteenth

century to have abandoned the decorative effect produced by the

open-work, and neglected to find some substitute. This substitute was

found in lavish embroidery and in ornamentation with jewels and spangles

of gold. The sandals, in fact, became as elaborate as did the rest of

the ecclesiastical vestments.

The sandals, as above described, were worn by bishops only, at the

Eucharistic service. Deacons and priests appear to have worn simple

everyday shoes, without ornamentation of any kind. The fenestrated shoes

(which were popular among the dandies of the day as well as consecrated

to the bishops) were expressly forbidden to them, as also were coloured

shoes, or shoes of the preposterous shapes occasionally in vogue among

the laity of the middle ages.

[Illustration: FIG. 11.—BISHOP WAYNFLETE'S EPISCOPAL SANDAL.]

'As the sandals partly cover the feet and leave them partly bare,' says

Rabanus, 'so the teachers of the Gospel should reveal part of the Gospel

and should hide the rest, that the faithful and pious may have enough

knowledge thereof, and the infidel and despiser may find no matter for

blasphemy. And this kind of shoe warns us likewise that we should have a

care to our flesh and our bodies in matters of necessity, not in matters

of lust.'

Amalarius of Metz enters into further details, incidentally touching on

some points of difference which obtained between the sandal of the

bishop and that of the priest in his day—the first half of the ninth

century. The following is a translation of his words:

'The difference in the sandal sets forth a difference in the minister.

The offices of the priest and of the bishop are almost identical; but

because there is a distinction in their titles and honours there is a

distinction in their sandals, that we may not fall into error upon

beholding them, which we might well do, owing to the similarity of their

offices. The bishop has a band (_ligatura_) in his sandals, which the

presbyter has not. It is the duty of the bishop to travel throughout the

length and breadth of his diocese (_parochia_) to govern the

inhabitants; and lest they should fall from his feet, his sandals are

bound. The moral of this is, that he who mingles with the vulgar crowd

must secure fast the courses of his mind (_gressus mentis_). The priest,

who remains in one spot and offers the sacrifice there, walks more

securely. The deacon, because his office is different from that of the

bishop, needs not different sandals; he therefore wears them bound,

because it is his to go on attendance. The subdeacon, because he assists

the deacon, and has almost the same office, must have different sandals,

that he be not thought a deacon. The inner meaning is this: Because the

sandals set forth the way of the preacher, the sole, which is

underneath, warns the preacher not to mingle with earthly matters. The

tongue of white leather, which is under the "tread"[56] of the foot,

shows that there ought to be the same separation, guiltless and

guileless; that it may be said of him, "Behold an Israelite indeed, in

whom there is no guile;" let him not be such as were the false apostles,

who preached in malice and disputation. The tongue, which rises thence,

and is separated from the leather of the sandals, sets forth the tongue

of those who ought to bear good testimony to the preacher, of whom Paul

said, "He must have a good report of them that are without." These are

in the lower rank, and to some extent are separated from spiritual

intercourse. The upper tongue is the tongue of the spirits

(_spiritalium_), who lead the preacher into the work of preaching. These

search into the past life of the preacher. But the sandals are bound

round within with white leather; so must the desire of the preacher be

pure before God, out of a clean conscience; and without appears the

black, since the life of the preacher seems despised by them that are

worldly on account of the myriad afflictions of this present life. The

upper part of the sandal, through which the foot enters, is sewn

together with many threads, that the two leather bands be not separated;

for at first the preacher should apply himself to the many virtues and

sayings of the Scriptures, that his outward acts may not be at variance

with those which are secret and known to God only. The tongue of the

sandals, which is over the foot, sets forth the tongue of the preacher.

The line made by the craft of the shoemaker, stretching from the tongue

of the sandal to its end, sets forth the perfection of the Gospel; the

lines proceeding from either side, the law and the prophets, which are

repeated in the Gospels; they are repeated at the middle line, which

stretches to the end. The bands denote the mystery of Christ's

Incarnation....'

We have given this strange mixture of mysticism and observation at

length for several reasons. First, it emphasizes a curious distinction

between the shoes of different orders of clergy which is not often

brought into notice. Secondly, it gives a very full, though somewhat

obscure, description of the sandal in the author's time. And thirdly, it

exemplifies the absurd lengths to which an author can go who endeavours

to extract hidden meanings from simple and easily explicable facts. Here

Amalarius endeavours to extract solemn truths even from the seams which

the maker found necessary in joining two pieces of leather together. If

some modern writers on archaeological subjects took timely warning from

such a melancholy example, we should have fewer wild theories and more

facts.

It is sad that most of Amalarius' successors quietly put aside his

elaborately argued piece of symbolism. Pseudo-Alcuin is content with the

old idea of Rabanus, that the Gospel should be kept from what is earthy

as the feet are kept from the ground, but not otherwise covered. Ivo

practically quotes Rabanus word for word; and even Innocent III, who is

usually original, has little further to offer beside the quotation: 'How

beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace!'

IX. _The Pall._—The pall is a symbol of jurisdiction, which is worn by

the Pope, and by him bestowed upon all archbishops.

The material of which the pall is made is white wool. Both the shape of

the vestment and its ornamentation have undergone modifications since it

was invented, even during the mediaeval period itself. Its earliest

appearance, and all that is known of its origin, is described in the

preceding chapter. The folding of the _pallium_ must have given a little

trouble whenever it was put on; and this must before long have suggested

the shape which meets us in the mediaeval pall: that of a loop of cloth

with two tails projecting from opposite points in its circumference. A

slight difference is observable between palls represented early and

those represented late in the mediaeval period. In the former the

branches are almost horizontal, passing round the arms between the

shoulder and elbow; in the latter they pass over the shoulder. In the

former case the pall resembles a T, in the latter a Y, whether seen from

before or behind the wearer.

[Illustration: FIG. 12.—ST DUNSTAN. (From a manuscript in the Cottonian

Library; showing early forms of pall and mitre.)]

In whichever form it appears, however, the pall was secured in its place

by pins. At first, when the vestments were of simple description, these

pins could be run through pall and chasuble without doing much damage;

afterwards, however, when enrichments were heaped upon the chasuble,

these pins were not run into that vestment at all, but through loops

provided for the purpose. It was discovered, however, that the pall in

its latest development would stay in its place quite as well without

pins as with them, and the loops were therefore abandoned. As the pins

were generally made of gold, with heads of precious stones, some

reluctance was felt at abandoning them altogether, and accordingly they

sank into the position which the maniple and other vestments

assumed—that of being ornaments.

The length of the pendent tails shows considerable variety at different

times. They are extremely long—often extravagantly so—in monuments

dating between the eleventh and fourteenth centuries. After that date

they were curtailed, and at present are not more than a foot long. There

is a little button of lead sewn into the ends of the tails to make them

hang properly.

The pall never displayed that tendency to elaborate adornment which

distinguished the other vestments of the mediaeval age. Doubtless the

fact that all palls were made at Rome, and but few were made at a time,

prevented any great change in fashion. Some differences are,

notwithstanding, noticeable. In the earliest representations of tailed

palls there is to be seen a single cross at the end of each tail; the

same cross is to be seen worked on early _oraria_ and _mappulae_. But in

mediaeval and modern times there is a difference. At present the pall

has six crosses, one on each tail and four on the oval, worked in black.

In the middle ages we find sometimes four, sometimes as many as eight,

worked in purple.

The history of each individual pall is curious. On the morning of St

Agnes's Day (January 21) in each year, two lambs are sent into Rome each

in a basket, the baskets being slung over a horse's back. These lambs

are chosen with special reference to whiteness and goodness. The horse

is driven to the palace of the Pope, who comes to a window and makes the

sign of the cross over the lambs, which are then conducted to the church

of St Agnes without the walls. Here, gaily adorned with flowers and

ribbons, they are brought up to the altar, and kept there till mass is

sung. After mass (formerly at the _Agnus Dei_) the celebrant blesses the

lambs, which are then handed over to the charge of the canons of St John

Lateran, by whom they are sent back to the Pope. The Pope hands them on

to the dean of his subdeacons, who delivers them up to a nunnery, where

they are kept and fed. When they are shorn, the wool is woven by the

nuns into palls. On the eve of the day of St Peter and St Paul these

palls are taken to St Peter's, and there blessed after evensong, after

which they are shut up in a silver-gilt box to wait till they are wanted

for bestowal on a new archbishop.

Each archbishop on election must go to Rome in person to receive the

pall, unless prevented by serious obstacles—when the latter is the case

it is solemnly sent to him by the Pope. He is not permitted to engage in

any episcopal duty before receiving the pall; afterwards the vestment is

worn only at High Mass on the following days: Nativity, St Stephen, St

John, Circumcision, Epiphany, Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Holy

Saturday, Easter Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, Ascension, Pentecost,

Feasts of the Virgin, Nativity of St John the Baptist, all days of

Apostles, All Saints, Dedications of Churches, principal local feasts in

the diocese, Consecrations of Bishops, Ordinations of Clergy, Feast of

the local Dedication, and the Anniversary of the wearer's consecration.

The Pope, however, wears the pall at all times when he says mass.

The pall is the symbol of the archiepiscopal authority, therefore it may

not be worn without express papal permission outside the limits of the

jurisdiction of the archbishop.[57] When he dies, the pall is buried

with him, but it is only placed on his shoulders if he be buried within

his own province, otherwise it is folded and placed beneath his

head.[58] The pall is the only vestment which may not be lent by one

cleric to another.

[Illustration: FIG. 13.]

We now come to a singular point in the history of the pall, and one

which has so far baffled ecclesiologists to explain. Although the pall

is generally regarded as the peculiar emblem of archbishops, and seems

to have been kept for their especial and peculiar use by the rites which

we have described, yet a few favoured bishops have from very early times

been entitled to wear this vestment. The bishoprics which possess this

privilege are those of Autun, Bamberg, Dol, Lucca, Ostia, Pavia, and

Verona.

The pall is represented on several monuments of bishops of these

dioceses, _e.g._, the slab of Bishop Otto (1192) and the brass of Bishop

Lambert (1399), both in Bamberg Cathedral. In illuminated manuscripts

and elsewhere we often find figures of clerics of episcopal rank wearing

the pall, but holding the crook-headed staff, commonly supposed to be

the insignia of a _bishop_ as distinguished from an archbishop; but as

numerous examples exist to show that the latter notion (like the

majority of popular ideas in archaeology) is erroneous, this combination

proves nothing.

The peculiar circumstances distinguishing the pall from the rest of the

ecclesiastical vestments would lead us to expect some remarkable

disquisitions on its symbolism. This expectation is not disappointed.

The cross on the back and front reminds the wearer to reflect piously

and in a worthy manner on the Passion of the Redeemer, and holds up

before the people the sign of their Redemption. Such is the old view,

and it has at least the merit of simplicity and religious feeling. But,

unfortunately, Amalarius, in his dissecting manner, draws a parallel

between the pall and the golden plate of the Levitical High Priest; this

clears the way for the extraordinary disquisition of the pseudo-Alcuin

on the Tetragrammaton יהוח (as he inaccurately writes it), wherein _Jod_

signifies 'principium,' _He_ 'iste,' _Vau_ 'vita,' and _Heth_

'passio'—'id est, iste est principium passionis vitae.' Honorius thinks,

however, that the four letters typify the four arms of the cross.

Innocent III and others tell us that the pall signifies that discipline

with which archbishops should rule themselves and those set under them.

As Innocent's account of the pall gives as full an account as can be

obtained of the vestment and its ornamentation and fastenings, we give

an abstract of it here:

'The pall which the principal bishops wear signifies the discipline with

which archbishops should rule themselves and those set under them. By

this the golden chain[59] is obtained which those receive who strive

lawfully, of which Solomon saith, "My son, hear the instruction of thy

father and forsake not the law of thy mother, for they shall be an

ornament of grace unto thy head and chains about thy neck." For the

pallium is made of white wool, woven, having a circle above constraining

the shoulders, and two tails (_lineae_) hanging down on either side;

moreover, there are four purple crosses, front and back, on the right

and on the left. On the left side it is double, and single on the

right.'[60] After a long moralization on these facts, he goes on: 'The

three pins which are fixed in the pallium over the breast, on the

shoulder and in the back, denote pity for his neighbour, the

administration of his office, and the meting out of justice.... There is

no pin fastened in the right shoulder,' because there is no trouble in

everlasting rest. 'The needle is golden, sharp below, rounded above,

enclosing a precious stone,' which bears a variety of meanings. If we

may believe the Elizabethan reformers, the pall was an expensive item in

an archbishop's insignia. Although Gregory I ordained that it should be

given to the archbishop-elect freely, Jewel speaks of the Archbishop of

Canterbury giving 5,000 florins (£1,125 at 4s. 6d. the florin) to the

Pope for his pall, in addition to the first-fruits of his province; and

Bullinger speaks of the pall being so dear that 'in gathering money for

it' the archbishop often 'beggared his whole diocese.'

X. _The Stockings_, or buskins, seem to have been originally

appropriated to the Pope alone, bishops being content with the somewhat

scanty sandal already described. But by the time of Ivo of Chartres the

_caligae_ had taken their place among the articles in an episcopal

wardrobe. He is the first writer who mentions them. In the middle ages

they, like all the other vestments of which we have been treating,

forsook their primitive simplicity and became enriched with elaborate

ornamentation. They signify the need of framing the courses of their

feet aright; and in that they reach to the knees, they indicate that the

wearer should strengthen the feeble knees weakened by heedlessness, and

hasten to preach the Gospel.

[Illustration: FIG. 14.—BISHOP WAYNFLETE'S EPISCOPAL STOCKING.]

XI. _The Subcingulum._—The discussion of this vestment will be more

difficult than that of any other among the equipment of the clergy of

the West. It is all but obsolete at the present day; there does not seem

to be more than one representation of it extant, and that only shows a

small portion of it in an unsatisfactory manner; and the references to

it in ecclesiastical writers are few and far between.

In antiquarian or any other investigations it is invariably the best

rule, when a puzzle is set for solution, to work backwards from the

known to the unknown. We will follow this course in speaking of this

vestment, and commence with a description of it as worn at the present

day.

The modern _subcingulum_ is reserved for the exclusive use of the Pope.

It takes the form of a girdle, passed round the alb, and having on the

left side a maniple-like appendage. This seems to have been the form

which it had in the end of the fourteenth century, for in an 'Ordo

Missae Pontificalis,' published by Georgi,[61] we read: 'Primo induit

(pontifex) sibi albam, deinde cinctorium cum manipulo ad sinistram

partem.' In the century before this Durandus, in his 'Rationale

Divinorum Officiorum,' writes: 'Sane a sinistro latere pontificis ex

cingulo duplex dependet succinctorium'[62]—a doubled 'apron' hangs on

the left hand side; and he likens it to a quiver, in the course of an

elaborate comparison between the episcopal vestments of his time and the

spiritual armour of the Christian.

The _succinctorium_ must have adopted this form about the middle of the

thirteenth century. At the beginning of that century we find that it had

its use, and was not a mere ornament. In the 'Ordo Romanus' of Cencio de

Sabellis, written at the end of the twelfth century,[63] is a

description of the new Pope's taking possession of the Church of St John

Lateran. He is there described as being 'girt with a belt of crimson

silk, hanging from which is a purple _purse_ (bursa) containing twelve

precious stones and some musk.' These all had their symbolical meaning:

the belt denoted purity, the purse almsgiving, the stones the apostles,

the musk 'a good odour in the sight of God.'

Innocent III, writing at the commencement of the thirteenth century,

describes the vestment as peculiar to _bishops_, but does not refer to

it as peculiar to _popes_; neither, be it noticed, does Cencio. The last

restriction may have crept in one or two centuries after Innocent. He

does not enter into many details concerning it, but he clearly

distinguishes it from the _zona_, or girdle, which denotes continence,

as the _subcingulum_ signifies abstinence.[64]

About this time a fresco was executed on the wall of the _Sagro Speco_

at Subiaco, which remains till the present day. It represents a Pope

fully vested, but under the folds of the chasuble on either side is a

fretted ornament which is certainly not part of any of the ordinary

vestments of any rank of clergy. There is no alternative but to regard

Dr Rock as correct in considering this ornament as part of the

subcingulum.

[Illustration: FIG. 15.—FIGURE OF A POPE. (_Temp._ INNOCENT III.)]

This being granted, the subcingulum is seen to be a girdle, from either

side of which depends a lozenge-shaped 'lappet.' We shall meet with a

similar lappet in the =epigonation= of the Greek Church. Only portions

of these lappets are to be seen in the fresco in question, but enough is

apparent to show them to be lozenge-shaped.

The testimony of Cencio points to these lappets being, not mere

ornaments, but bags or purses hung to the belt; and this brings us to

another stage in the evolution of this vestment. We know that through

the middle ages a bag called a _gypcière_ hung at the belts of

civilians, and served the double purpose of purse and pocket. It is but

natural to suppose that the early clergy found such appendages useful

even in divine service. Let us now go yet further, and see whether

confirmation of these theories awaits us.

Honorius of Autun in 1130 writes: 'The subcingulum, also called perizona

or subcinctorium, is hung doubled about the loins; this signifies zeal

in almsgiving,' etc.

Note, in this passage, the expression 'hung doubled.' This can only

refer to the 'lappets' being hung _one on each side_. And the

'almsgiving,' which Honorius asserts this vestment to signify, suggests

a purse.

Other writers, in the century preceding Honorius, write to the same

effect; and even as early as the tenth century, in a manuscript of the

mass, we find a distinction drawn between the 'cingulum' and the

'baltheum' in the prayers said while vesting.

In short, it seems probable that the subcingulum, with its appendages,

is, like several other sacerdotal vestments, a modification into an

ornament of something which had been designed for some natural

requirement. When the maniple became too narrow and too richly

embroidered to be of the slightest use as a handkerchief, it cannot be

supposed that the priest did entirely without some resource; some plain

piece of cloth must surely have been employed in its place, and some

pocket must then have been required in which to place it. Again, some

receptacle must have been wanted in which to place those comforting

metal 'apples' in which hot water was placed when the day was cold; and

the thumbstall or ponser, the thimble designed to keep the oil which

adhered to his thumb after it had been dipped in the chrism, from

greasing any of his vestments. It seems only natural to suppose that the

subcingulum was originally designed to supply these wants.

XII. _The Rational._—This ornament, obsolete now, was assumed by the

bishops of the early years of the middle ages, in direct imitation of

the breastplate of the ephod worn by the Jewish High Priest.

It consisted of a wooden brooch, overlaid with enamelled metal, which

was fastened high up on the breast of the chasuble, and seems commonly

to have been worn when there was no central orphrey on that vestment.

The shape and ornamentation of the rational varied altogether with the

caprice of the artist who designed it. Examples are extremely rare in

inventories of cathedral goods, if, indeed, they occur at all. It is

probable that they were catalogued together with the _morses_ of copes,

with which they were practically identical in appearance.

The word 'Rationale' first meets us in the expression 'rationale

judicii,' used in the Vulgate _passim_ as a translation of the =to

logeion tês kriseôs=, by which the Septuagint expressed the breastplate

of the ephod. In the early Church writers the word 'judicii' was dropped

and 'rationale' used alone, but always to denote the Jewish ornament.

When pseudo-Alcuin wrote, in the tenth or eleventh century, the

ecclesiastical rational was quite unknown, for he says: 'Pro rationali

summi pontifices, quos archiepiscopos dicemus, pallio utuntur'—a

statement which he would certainly not have made if anything less unlike

the rational than the pallium had been known to him. Ivo of Chartres,

too, knows nothing of the Christian ornament, for although he does not

say definitely that the Jewish rational corresponded to the pallium, he

says that it corresponded to an ornament _conceded_ (_concessum_) to the

chief bishops of his time—an expression which would define the pallium,

but certainly not the rational. Honorius of Autun is the writer in whom

we first meet with direct and unequivocal mention of the ornament; and

he begins his remarks upon it by definitely stating: 'Rationale a Lege

est sumptum'—_Lege_, of course, being the Levitical law. This gives us

very closely the limits of date between which the rational was

assumed—some time between 1100 and 1130.

The rational, if we may accept the testimony of the monuments, gradually

died out about the fourteenth or fifteenth century. It seems never to

have been universal, and an actual rational is one of the rarest

ecclesiological treasures a collector can possess.

XIII. _The Mitre._—Like that of the _subcingulum_, the history of the

mitre is a curious piece of evolution; but, unlike the _subcingulum_,

the mitre can be traced through all its history in an unbroken chain of

literary references, monumental effigies, and actual specimens.

The word _mitra_ (Gk. =mitos=, _a thread_) is applied in the

transitional period to a female head-dress, and even St Isidore of

Seville makes use of the word in that sense. The Septuagint, however,

occasionally translates the expression for the cap of the high priest by

=mitra=; at other times they use the word =kidaris=, which they also

apply to the cap of the second order of the Jewish priesthood. The

Vulgate follows the Septuagint, sometimes using _mitra_, sometimes

_cidaris_, and occasionally _tiara_.

The advocates of an origin in primitive antiquity for Ecclesiastical

Vestments make much of two passages which are certainly obscure, and

would seem to indicate that in apostolic times 'bishops' wore a _gold

plate_ upon their heads. These passages are in a letter sent by

Polycrates of Ephesus to Victor, bishop of Rome, about the year 200

A.D., in which he alludes to St John as 'having become a priest wearing

the gold plate' =egenêthê hiereus to petalon pephorêkôs=;[65] and in the

writings of Epiphanius of Salamis (_circa_ 400 A.D.), in which he says

of James, the brother of Our Lord, that he was a priest after the

ancient rite, and was permitted to wear a gold plate—=hierateusanta

auton kata tên palaian hierôsunê heuromen ... kai to petalon epi tês

kephalês hexên autô pherein=,[66] citing the authority of Eusebius,

Clement, and others. These statements are so hopelessly vague and

confused that very little can be made out of them, but it has been

pointed out that (i) the passages in which they occur are largely

allegorical, (ii) that the =petalon= seems to refer to the gold plate of

Jewish priesthood, and that the expression 'priest with the =petalon='

probably was used currently in the early years of Christianity, much as

'mitred abbot' is by us at the present day. In any case, as Dr Sinker

says,[67] it 'is plain enough that if St John and St James, or either of

them, did wear this ornament, it was an ornament 'special to themselves'

and ceased with them, affecting in no sense the further use of the

church.'

Other passages, supposed to refer to this or similar practices, bearing

dates between the fourth and sixth centuries, are found on examination

to have no real bearing on the question. The number of extracts from

writers of that time which have been brought forward to prove the

antiquity of the mitre is considerable; but those which can at all bear

consideration apart from their contexts are all vague, unconvincing and

inconclusive; some, indeed, are so obviously figurative that their

production is only an amusing illustration of the straits to which the

believers in the elaboration of primitive ritual are reduced. And the

evidence of Tertullian on the other side is very clear—'quis denique

patriarches, quis prophetes, quis levites, aut sacerdos, aut archon,

quis vel postea apostolus aut evangelizator aut episcopus invenitur

coronatus?'[68]

In the face of this quotation it is not easy to see what to make of the

passages in St Jerome and elsewhere, in which a bishop is addressed by

the expression 'corona vestra,' much as we use the words 'your lordship'

now. Dr Rock argues from this that bishops, even so early as the fifth

century, wore a circlet or crown of gold at Divine service. If so, the

use must have been confined to Rome, for otherwise the Toletan or other

councillors would surely have given us definite information concerning

it.

St Isidore of Seville, in his treatise 'De Officiis Ecclesiasticis,'

book ii, chap. vii, describes the tonsure as indicative of the

priesthood and the regal nature of the church, the shaven part of the

head representing the hemispherical cap of the Jewish priests, and the

circlet of hair representing the coronet of kings. It is true that he is

not speaking definitely of bishops, but the fact that he is absolutely

silent respecting a crown of any kind other than the crown of hair—for

which he expressly uses the word _corona_—is at least presumptive

evidence that the crown of gold was not worn in his day. The prophecy of

King Laoghairé's druids affords a very curious corroboration of this;

see _post_, p. 128.

The earliest representation that Dr Rock can adduce of an ecclesiastic

wearing this circlet is a figure in the Benedictional of St Aethelwold,

an MS. of the tenth century at Chatsworth. Here we have a figure, the

brows of which are certainly encircled with a gold band set with

precious stones. As Marriott points out, however, this is probably more

of a secular than an ecclesiastical nature, and may indicate the royal

rank to which bishops at that time frequently laid claim.

Menard, after a careful study of ancient liturgies, came to the

conclusion that the mitre was not in use in the church prior to the year

1000. Contemporary art bears out this statement. Probably the earliest

genuine representation of a bishop wearing a head-dress to which any

importance can be attached from a liturgical point of view is an

illumination of St Dunstan[69] in an MS. (Claud. A 3) in the British

Museum. This is of the early years of the eleventh century. It shows us

a simple cap, low and hemispherical in shape, without the least trace of

the cleft now invariably associated with the episcopal headgear.

The fashion seems to have changed with considerable rapidity, and the

cleft very soon began to make its appearance. Its first beginning was a

very shallow, blunt depression between two low, blunt, rounded points,

one over each ear—in fact, a depression such as would naturally be made

in a soft cloth cap by passing the outstretched hand gently across the

crown. This change was not long in giving place to another and more

important modification. The mitre was turned so that the horns appeared

one in front, one behind, and they were raised a little higher than

before, and, instead of being rounded, were made of a triangular form.

The mitre in this shape is that universally represented in MSS. of the

twelfth century.

[Illustration: FIG. 16.—A BISHOP, SALISBURY CATHEDRAL (Jocelyn, Twelfth

Century).]

[Illustration: FIG. 17.—AN ARCHBISHOP, MAYENCE CATHEDRAL (Diether von

Isenburg, 1482).]

Little difference in shape is traceable in the mitres of the thirteenth,

fourteenth, fifteenth or sixteenth centuries. During these four hundred

years the mitre increased considerably in size, but it was reserved for

the seventeenth century to stereotype the final modification in form.

Hitherto the two horns of the mitre had as a general rule been in the

shape of plain triangles, bent round so as to adapt themselves to the

outline of the head; the mitre was thus cylindrical in outline. By the

seventeenth century, however, the triangles had been made spherical, so

that the mitre assumed the form of a pair of parentheses, or of a

barrel, which it still possesses.[70] By this time it had grown to a

considerable height—some eighteen inches.

When the mitre was a plain cloth cap it was kept in position by two

ribbons, which were knotted at the back of the head. The end of these

ribbons are well shown in the figure of St Dunstan. But the ribbons very

early lost their usefulness and became simple ornaments, and the

ubiquitous embroiderer was not long in seizing on these _infulae_, or

lappets, and enriching them with needlework to the best of her ability.

The mitre was originally made of plain white linen, and until about the

twelfth century continued to be so; it was occasionally, though by no

means always, elaborately decorated with needlework. Such simplicity,

however, was not consistent with the spirit of the age which followed,

and we find that in the thirteenth century the mitre was made of silk,

and invariably overlaid either with embroidery or pearls and other

jewels. To such a length was this enrichment carried at last in England,

that we read that Henry VIII removed from Fountains Abbey, among other

treasures, a silver-gilt mitre set with pearl and stone—weight seventy

ounces!

Although properly belonging to the seventh chapter, in which the ritual

uses of the various vestments which we have been describing will be

discussed, it is necessary here to detail the three classes into which

mitres are divided. Unlike other vestments, which are classified

according to the particular liturgical _colour_ which predominates in

their embroidery, mitres are classified according to the _manner_ in

which they are ornamented. The background, when it can be seen at all,

is white. A mitre which is simply made of white linen or silk, with

little or no enrichment, is called a _mitra simplex_; one ornamented

richly with embroidery, but without precious metals or stones, is called

a _mitra aurifrigiata_; and one in which precious metals and stones are

employed in its decoration is called a _mitra pretiosa_. The different

times at which these different kinds of mitres are worn will be noted in

their proper place in Chapter VII.

[Illustration: FIG. 18.—PASTORAL STAFF AND MITRA PRETIOSA (the Limerick

Mitre).]

The papal tiara may be briefly described in this place. It first appears

about the eleventh century as a conical cap, encircled with a single

crown at the brow; assumed about the time of the growth of the earthly

power of the papacy, it may well be regarded as symbolical of spiritual

and temporal rule. The subsequent modifications through which it passed

were few in number, though considerable in character: they consisted in

the addition of a second crown by Boniface VIII (1300 A.D.), of a third

by Urban V (1362-70), and the swelling out of the body of the head-dress

into a bulging form about the sixteenth century, much about the time

when the mitre assumed the same shape.

XIV. _The Episcopal Gloves._—These undoubtedly owe their invention to

the coldness and cheerlessness of the early churches, and were invented

simply to keep the hands of the wearer warm. But about the ninth century

they, with so many similar vestments, assumed a more sacred character,

and a prayer was prescribed for putting them on, as was the case with

the other and better established vestments. They do not appear to be

formally mentioned as vestments till the time of Honorius of Autun, who

draws moral lessons from them.

Throughout the middle ages the gloves were richly embroidered and

jewelled; often a large stone is to be seen on the back of each hand.

The gloves (_chirothecae_, or _manicae_) must be carefully distinguished

from the _manicae_ or _brachialia_, the sleeves of coarse cloth which

the bishop used to draw over his arm to protect the apparels of his alb

from the water when administering baptism by immersion.

As the hands are sometimes covered with gloves and sometimes bare, so

good deeds should be sometimes hidden to prevent self-sufficiency, and

sometimes revealed as an edifying example to those near us. So says

Honorius of Autun; perhaps this is as satisfactory an exegesis as has

ever been given of the gloves or any other vestment.

XV. _The Episcopal Ring._—Although, as we have seen, the ring was

recognised as one of the special marks of a bishop at the time of the

fourth council of Toledo, and was regarded by St Isidore of Seville as a

special article used in the investiture of a bishop, none of the

liturgical writers of the earliest years of the mediaeval period notices

it; not till we come to Honorius of Autun is any mention of it to be

found. The reason of this is not far to seek, and has been given by

Marriott. Rabanus, Amalarius, Ivo, and the rest, occupied themselves

more or less with the supposed connexion between the liturgical and the

Jewish vestments, and therefore, as they were not writing treatises

dealing solely with Christian vestments, they omitted all mention of

ornaments which had no direct bearing on the questions with which they

were engaged. Hence, both the ring and pastoral staff suffered, as the

most ingenious torturing could not extract anything in the Levitical

rites analogous to these important insignia.

The evidence of the monuments is conclusive on two points. First, that

the episcopal ring proper was only one of a large number of rings worn

by the bishop, the others being probably purely ornamental and secular;

second, that it was worn on the third finger of the right hand, and

_above_ the second joint of that finger, not being passed, as rings are

now, down to the knuckle. It was usually kept in place with a plain

guard ring.

The ring was always a circlet with a precious stone, never engraved, and

it was large enough to pass over the gloved finger. The stone was

usually a sapphire, sometimes an emerald or a ruby.

Although the ring is distinguishable, by its position on the right hand

as well as by other circumstances, from the wedding-ring, Honorius of

Autun (after referring to the ring placed on the finger of the Prodigal

Son and the wedding ring of iron with an adamantine stone forged by 'a

certain wise man called Prometheus') has been trapped into saying that

the bishop wears a ring that he may declare himself the bridegroom of

the church and may lay down his life for it, should necessity arise, as

did Christ.

XVI. _The Pastoral Staff._—We have briefly sketched the probable origin

of the pastoral staff in the preceding chapter, and come now to discuss

the forms it presented and the connexions in which it was used

during the middle ages. As there is no department of the study of

Ecclesiastical Vestments about which so much popular misconception

exists, it will be necessary to enter into these details at considerable

length.

As utterly unfounded as the common notions concerning 'low-side windows'

and crossed-legged effigies is the idea that the differences in the

positions of pastoral staves as represented in sculptured monuments have

any meaning whatsoever, secret or personal. A pastoral staff remains a

pastoral staff, and nothing more, whether it is on the right side of the

bearer or on the left, and whether its crook is turned inwards or

outwards.

Synonymous with 'pastoral staff' is the word _crozier_ or _crosier_; but

it is frequently ignorantly applied to a totally different object—the

cross-staff borne before an archbishop. The statements which we so often

see in works professing to treat on ecclesiological subjects as to the

pastoral staff being crook-headed and borne by bishops, the crozier

cross-headed, and borne (instead of the pastoral staff) _by_

archbishops, are derived from a misunderstanding of the evidence of

mediaeval monuments.[71] The truth is, that the pastoral staff, with

which the crozier is identical, is borne by bishops and archbishops

alike; but archbishops are distinguished from bishops by having a staff,

with a cross or crucifix in its head, borne _before_ them in addition.

In many monuments, it is true, archbishops are represented as carrying

the cross-staff, as, for instance, the brass of Archbishop Cranley in

New College, Oxford; but it was obviously impossible in a monument of

this kind to represent a cross-bearer preceding the archbishop, and the

slight inaccuracy was, therefore, perpetrated of making the archbishop

bear his own cross, thereby substantiating the evidence of the _pall_,

that the person represented was of higher rank than that of a bishop. It

was better managed at Mayence, where, in the monument of Albrecht von

Brandenburg, 1545, figured above (p. 101), the figure is represented as

bearing both the crozier and the cross-staff, one in each hand; and at

Bamberg, in the cathedral of which city is a brass to Bishop Lambert von

Brunn[72] (1399), wherein he is represented holding the crozier in his

left hand, the cross-staff in his right.

In the earliest representations of a staff of office there is a

considerable variety in the shape of the head; knobs, crooks, and even

Y-shapes, all meet us. The shape probably depended on the shape of the

branch of the tree from which the staff was cut, much as does the shape

of an ordinary walking-stick. By St Isidore's time, however, the

crook-head had become stereotyped; the number of exceptional forms which

we find after that date is small. There is a considerable number of

staves of about the eleventh century, either represented on monuments or

actually existing, of which the heads are tau-shaped; these possibly

betray Eastern influence. A few effigies or pictures of bishops remain

with a knob-headed staff; an example is to be seen in a ninth-century

Anglo-Saxon pontifical at Rouen.

[Illustration]

The crook-headed staff is, however, by far the commonest, and after the

eleventh century the only, form in which the bishop's crozier is found.

Some variety is discoverable in the extent to which the staff is

crooked. In some—notably in Irish specimens—the head is shaped like an

inverted U, the form of the whole staff being that represented in the

annexed diagram; but in the great majority of instances the head is

recurved into a spiral or volute.

In the Irish form of crozier the front is flat, and shaped like an oval

shield. This is often moveable, disclosing a hollow behind it, which was

almost certainly used as a reliquary.[73]

The materials of which the pastoral staff was made were very diverse.

The stick was of wood, usually some precious wood, such as cedar,

cypress, or ebony. This wood was often gilt or overlaid with silver

plates. In the twelfth century the staff was shod with iron and

surmounted with a knob of crystal, above which the crook proper was

attached. The crook-head of the Irish crozier was of bronze; that of the

other form generally of carved ivory. When the process of elaboration

was felt in this as in all the other sacerdotal ornaments, the stick as

well as the head was often carved from ivory, and either gilt or

silvered heavily, and set with precious stones. Beneath the crook were

often niches or shrines, containing figures of saints.

The bronze Irish crozier was decorated with the marvellous interlacing

knots and bands which are the special glory of early Irish Christian

art. On the flat front is often to be seen a plain cross, at the centre

of which is a setting for a precious stone, and in each quarter an

interlacing band. In the volute form of crozier a different style of

ornamentation was adopted; the surface was not ornamented, but the head

was carved into solid forms; in the centre of the volute was usually

represented some sacred person or scene, real or legendary, or else some

symbolical device or conventional patterns. It is hard to say which of

these two forms of crozier is the better from an aesthetic point of

view. The graceful curve of the volute certainly compares favourably

with the somewhat stiff outline of the Irish crozier; but the feebleness

of even the best mediaeval attempts at representing the human figure in

miniature considerably detracts from the artistic value of the volute

crozier when a human figure is introduced; while, on the other hand, the

incomparable excellence of the Irish metal-workers transformed the

U-shaped crozier into an object of great beauty. The lines of the knots

are always faultlessly executed, and the ornamentation is invariably in

good taste.[74]

The following copy of the Lincoln Inventory of pastoral staves (1536)

illustrates some of the points already noticed. It also indicates that

the head and staff of the crozier were separable, and, when stored in

the vestry, kept apart from one another:

'In primis a hede of one busshopes staffe of sylver and gylte wᵗ one

knop and perles & other stones havyng a Image of owʳ savyowʳ of the one

syde and a Image of sent John Baptiste of the other syde wanting xxj

stones & perles wᵗ one bose [boss] and one sokett weyng xviij unces.

'Item one other hede of a staffe copoʳ & gylte.

'Item a staffe ordend for one of the seyd hedes the wyche ys ornate wᵗ

stones sylver and gylte and iij circles, a boute the staffe sylver and

gylte wantyng vij stones.

'Item a staffe of horn and wod for the hede of copoʳ.

'Item j staff covered wᵗ silver wᵗʰout heeid.'

In the corresponding inventory of Winchester Cathedral we find entered

three pastoral staves silver-gilt, one pastoral staff of a 'unicorn's'

(presumably a narwhal's) horn and four pastoral staves of plates of

silver.

Suspended to the top of the staff was a streamer or napkin, which, like

the lappet of the mitre, was called the _infula_. This was originally

introduced to keep the moisture of the hand from tarnishing the metal of

the staff. The symbolists think it is a 'banner' of some sort or other.

It will be convenient, before proceeding to the discussion of the next

vestment on our list, to give a few particulars regarding the

archbishop's cross. This is necessary owing to the confusion already

noticed, which exists between the crozier and the cross; but as the

cross cannot strictly be included in a catalogue of ecclesiastical

vestments, we shall make our notes as brief as possible.

The custom of preceding an archbishop with a cross was introduced

throughout the Western Church about the beginning of the twelfth

century. It was carried by one of the archbishop's chaplains, who in

this country received the name of 'croyser,' or cross-bearer, for that

reason. The cross was usually richly ornamented with metalwork and

jewels, and often, if not always, bore a figure of Our Lord on each

face, so that the eyes of the archbishop were fixed on the one, those of

the people on the other.

The circumstance of highest importance connected with the archbishop's

cross, so far as it concerns our present purpose, is this: the prelate

_never_ bore the cross himself, except on the one occasion of his

investiture. He then received the cross into his own hands, but

immediately passed it on to his cross-bearer.

The Pope is often in mediaeval monuments and illustrations represented

as preceded by a cross with three transoms of different length, the

uppermost being the shortest, the lowermost the longest. This is simply

the result of a desire on the part of the artist to improve upon the

patriarch's cross of the Eastern Church, which _appears_ to have two

transoms, the upper transom being in point of fact a representation of

the board on which the superscription on the cross was written.

One more staff may be worth a passing mention—the staff borne as an

emblem of authority by the ruler of the choir, who looked after the

singing and behaviour of the boys. This was of silver, with a cross-head.

The false conceptions about the crozier have probably arisen from an

inaccurate etymological analogy with the word _cross_. The true

derivation connects it with such words as our _crotchet_ and _crook_.

The symbolism of the shepherd's staff is naturally the leading thought

in the minds of the mystics. It was probably, however, considered too

obvious, and they cast about to find yet further secret meanings. Thus,

Honorius notices that the Lord commanded the apostles to 'take nothing

save a staff only' when they were going out to preach, and then says

that 'the staff which sustains the feeble signifies the authority of

teaching,' and much more to the same effect. Innocent III says that the

point is sharp, the middle straight, the top curved, to indicate that

the priest should spur on the idle, rule the weak, collect the

wandering. He further explains the fact that the Pope does not bear the

pastoral staff by telling us that 'the blessed St Peter sent his staff

to Eucharius, the first bishop of Trèves, whom he had sent, together

with Valerius and Maternus, to preach the Gospel among the Germans.

Maternus succeeded him in the bishopric; he had been raised from the

dead by the staff of St Peter. And this staff is preserved with great

reverence in the church of Trèves.' St Thomas Aquinas supplements this

piece of information by telling us that for this reason the Pope carries

the pastoral staff when pontificating in Trèves.[75]

The episcopal staff is alleged to have borne the following inscriptions:

round the crook, 'Cum iratus fueris misericordiae recordaberis'; on the

ball below the crook, 'Homo'; on the spike at the bottom, 'Parce.' By

these inscriptions the bishop was warned that he was but a man himself;

that in wrath he should remember mercy; and that he should spare, even

when administering discipline. Whether these warnings were invariably

effective is a matter into which we will not inquire.

XVII. _The Tunicle._—This was simply a small variety of the dalmatic,

appropriated to the use of subdeacons and bishops.

It differed from the dalmatic merely in being somewhat smaller. It was

made of silk or of wool, and first appears about the year 820 as a

subdeacon's vestment; but it is considerably later than this that it

appears as a bishop's garment. In the ninth century bishops appear with

but one vestment—the alba—under the chasuble; between the ninth and

eleventh centuries the dalmatic makes its appearance; and it is not till

about 1200 that we find the tunicle illustrated in paintings or effigies

of bishops. A reference to the table given in the early part of the

present chapter will show that the literary evidence points in the same

direction.

The tunicle did not escape the common fate of all the vestments of the

mediaeval church, and it, too, became overlaid with needlework, first in

a strip across the breast of the subdeacon, then (as this would not show

under the vestments of the bishop) on the rest of the surface. The

tunicle on Bishop Goodrick's brass at Ely Cathedral—one of the latest

representations of this vestment in England—is as richly embroidered as

the dalmatic.

In a few episcopal effigies of the thirteenth century the dalmatic alone

appears. The tunicle being worn beneath the dalmatic, and being

naturally smaller, was hidden. This difficulty was, however, very soon

surmounted by the simple process of shortening the dalmatic.

Properly, the dalmatic only is fringed; the tunicle of the subdeacon

seldom, if ever, shows this manner of ornamentation. But in the later

episcopal effigies it is by no means uncommon.

XVIII. _The Orale_, or, as it is now called, the _Fanon_, is described

by Dr Rock as 'an oblong piece of white silk gauze of some length,

striped across its width with narrow bars, alternately gold, blue, and

red.... It is cast upon the head of the Pope like a hood, and its two

ends are wrapped one over the right, the other over the left shoulder,

and thus kept until the holy father is clad in the chasuble, when the

fanon is thrown back and made to hang smoothly and gracefully above and

all around the shoulders of that vestment, like a tippet.'

From the orale being supposed to represent the ephod, as well as from

the manner of its being put on, it is probable that it was an evolution

from the amice. It is not mentioned by liturgical writers before

Innocent III, and does not appear in paintings or monuments of much

older date; it therefore seems to have been assumed about the twelfth or

thirteenth century.

XIX. _The Pectoral Cross._—We must not omit to mention this important

episcopal ornament. As an official ornament it is of comparatively late

introduction; it first appears in the pages of Innocent III and

Durandus, and from the references which these liturgiologists make to

it, it was evidently regarded by them as exclusively confined to the

Pope's use. Thus, Innocent says: 'Romanus autem pontifex post albam et

cingulum assumit orale, quod circa caput involvit et replicat super

humeros' for certain symbolic reasons; 'et quia signo crucis auri lamina

cessit pro lamina quam pontifex ille [Judaeus] gerebat in fronte,

pontifex iste crucem gerit in pectore.' Dr Rock has been unable to find

any trace of the pectoral cross appearing on the breast of an ordinary

bishop before the sixteenth century. Even by the Popes it appears before

this time to have been covered by the chasuble. Probably the cross was

originally a reliquary.

On p. 29 we referred to a MS. of uncertain date in the monastery of St

Martin at Autun, which details the vestments worn in the Gallican church

in (probably) the tenth century. This gives a somewhat different

catalogue from the lists of the rest of the Western Church, and displays

some Eastern influence. The _pallium_, _casula_, _alba_, and _stola_ are

described so that they appear identical with the corresponding vestments

elsewhere; the maniple also appears, under the name _vestimentum

parvolum_; and we have in addition the _manualia_ or _manicae_, which do

not appear in any other Western lists; they are said in the MS. to have

been regularly worn 'like bracelets,' and to have covered the arms of

'kings and priests.' This points to vestments after the style of the

=epimanikia= of the Greeks, which will be noticed in their proper place

in Chapter V.

We have now described the vestments worn by the priests of the Western

Church at the Eucharistic service, and are thus in a position to give a

satisfactory answer to the question, 'Were they adaptations of the

Jewish, or natural evolutions of the Roman costume?' We have seen that

the jeweller, the goldsmith, and the embroiderer conspired to make the

vestments of the middle ages as gorgeous as possible, and that therein,

and in some few other particulars, they resembled the Mosaic costume;

but as we go back nearer and nearer to the first ages of Christianity

all the glitter drops off, vestment after vestment disappears, till we

reach the three plain white vestments of the fourth century, from which

it is but a step to the ordinary costume of a Roman citizen of good

position during the second or third century of our era. We have also

seen that all attempts at drawing hidden meanings from the vestments

fail; the results, when not far-fetched, are contradictory and

unconvincing.

[49] Vest. Christ., p. lxxviii.

[50] Vestes etiam sacerdotales per incrementa ad eum qui nunc habetur

auctae sunt ornatum. Nam primis temporibus communi indumento vestiti

missas agebant, sicut et hactenus quidam Orientalium facere

perhibentur.—Walafrid Strabo De Reb. Eccl., cap. xxiv (Migne cxiv 952).

[51] Very often—perhaps more often than not—the lower hem was

ornamented with a narrow edging of embroidery running all round. In

some albs as represented on Continental monuments there is a

considerable distance between the apparel and the hem.

[52] The late brass of Bishop Goodrich, in Ely Cathedral, represents

the stole between the tunicle and dalmatic. This is exceptional, and

probably an engraver's error.

[53] One of these exceptions is presented by a small brass of a priest

(Thomas Westeley, 1535) at Wyvenhoe, near Colchester.

[54] There is a remarkable statuette of alabaster in the Cambridge

Museum of Archaeology, which originally formed part of a retable in

Whittlesford Church, Cambridgeshire. In this figure, which is clad in

Eucharistic vestments, the maniple is absent, and its place seems to be

supplied by a _chain_ suspended over the _right_ wrist. This may,

however, represent some such saint as St Leonard, whose emblem is a

chain and manacles: in which case it is just possible that the sculptor

omitted the maniple to avoid the inartistic symmetry which would result

from its insertion.

[55] This description is given on the authority of Bloxam, companion

volume, p. 64.

[56] So Mariott. The original word is _calcaneum_.

[57] We give a figure of an effigy in Mayence Cathedral to the memory

of Albrecht von Brandenburg, who died in 1545. This effigy is

remarkable, and probably unique, in representing the archbishop as

wearing two palls. Although this is a convenient method of informing

the world of the fact that the person commemorated held two

archbishoprics (Mayence and Magdeburg), it is, of course, a solecism,

as the pall of the one could not legally be worn within the precincts

of the other, and _vice versâ_. This monument is especially valuable,

as it clearly distinguishes between the cross-staff and the pastoral

staff, which are often confused. See the account of the pastoral staff

later on in the present chapter.

[58] It is well known that ecclesiastics were buried in their

Eucharistic vestments, with a chalice and paten, the former often

filled with wine. Much nonsense is talked nowadays of the piety of the

mediaeval builders and undertakers, who put their best work where no

human eye could see it. Unfortunately for this theory, the chalice and

paten were usually cheap base metal (Canterbury affords one notable

exception), and the vestments were often an inferior or worn-out set.

Economy was considered then, as now.

[59] A not uncommon comparison for the loop of the pall.

[60] A survival of the old method of wearing it.

[61] Liturgia Rom. Pont., vol. iii, p. 556; _cit. ap._ Rock, Church of

Our Fathers.

[62] Rationale, III 4.

[63] Printed in Mabillon, Musei Ital., ii, p. 212.

[64] Were it not for this, we might infer from the other passages

quoted that the succintorium was simply hung on the ordinary girdle.

[65] Ap. Eusebius, Hist. Eccl., v 24; Migne, Patrol. Graec., xx 493.

[66] Contra Haer., I xxix 4; Migne, Patrol. Graec., xli 396.

[67] In Smith and Cheetham's 'Dictionary of Christian Antiquities,'

s.v. _mitre_.

[68] 'De Corona Militis,' cap. ix. Migne, ii 88.

[69] See fig. 12, p. 97.

[70] Traces of a slight 'bulge' are discernible in a few examples of

even so early a date as the fifteenth century. It is well developed in

von Brandenburg's effigy, figured on p. 101.

[71] This blunder has even crept into the ninth edition of the

'Encyclopaedia Britannica.'

[72] The bishops of Bamberg had a right to wear the archiepiscopal

pontificalia. See p. 102, _ante_.

[73] The ordinary form of crozier was not unknown in Ireland; the

well-known crozier of Cashel is a beautiful specimen. The crook form

was, however, earlier.

[74] This form of crozier is no doubt contemplated in the prophecy

attributed to the druids of Laoghairé, King of Ireland, as cited in the

law-tract known as the _Senchus Mór_—

'Tiucfaid Tailginn tar muir meirginn

A croinn cromcinn, a cinn tollcinn

A miasa in airthiur atighe,' etc.—

that is, 'the Tonsured ones shall come through the stormy sea, their

staves crook-headed, their heads tonsured, their tables in the east of

their houses,' etc. It is worth noting, apropos of what was said

on p. 115 respecting the bishop's _corona_, that the words 'a cinn

tollcinn'—'their heads tonsured,' are thus glossed in the MS.—'.i. a

coirne ina cennaib'—'_i.e._, their _crowns_ on their heads.'

[75] Sentent. IV, dist. 24, quaest. 3, art. 3, _ad fin._ ed. Parmae

(1873), vol. vii, p. 913.

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