imitate the original, and flowered over with golden stars. The coronation robes of the same Monarch, of Richard I. and John, were all splendidly embroidered. The order is extant for making the robes of Henry III., one of which was commanded to be of the best purple-coloured samit, embroidered with three little leopards in front and three behind. His sandals also were to be fretted with gold, each square of the feet containing a lion or a leopard.
This truly elegant mode of decorating the dress is minutely described in the following entry from the Close Rolls, not yet published, but given by Mr. Hardy in his learned introduction to the first volume of these important records. "John de Sumercote and Roger the tailor are commanded by Henry III. (1252.) to get made without delay four robes of the best brocade which they can procure, namely, two for the king's use, and two for the queen's, with Orfrais and gems of various colours; the tunics to be of softer brocade than the mantles and supertunics, and the mantles are to be furred with ermine, and the supertunics with minever." Besides the robes for the king's use, three were ordered for the queen, with 'queyntisis,' one of which was to be of "the best violet-coloured brocade that could be procured, with three small leopards in the front and three others behind[1]." These magnificent dresses were ordered in anticipation of the marriage of his daughter, the Princess Margaret, with Alexander III., King of Scotland.
The costume of the military opened a wide field for this elegant species of decoration. The countenance of the Knight being shrouded by his bacinet of steel, it became necessary that he should bear some device by which he might be readily recognised by his friends and followers, and nothing appeared more suitable than that his own armorial bearings should be emblazoned on his shield, or embroidered on his dress. And such, as is well known, was the constant practice of the period, it being the usual custom to charge the jupon, cointise, and cote hardie of the men, and the open surcoats of the females, with the heraldic badge of the wearer. In nearly every monumental effigy, traces of this practice are discernible, and as there is not the smallest reason for doubting that all these creations of the sculptor were as faithful representations of the deceased as he could possibly exhibit, both as regarded his very features, as well as his dress, they will become invested
- ↑ Introduction to Close Roll, p. 41.
