THE ARMOURER AND HIS CRAFT

UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME

PASTE     By A. Beresford Ryley

THE ARMOURER
AND HIS CRAFT

FROM THE XIth TO THE XVIth CENTURY

By CHARLES FFOULKES, B.Litt.Oxon.

WITH SIXTY-NINE DIAGRAMS IN THE TEXT AND THIRTY-TWO PLATES

METHUEN & CO. LTD.
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
LONDON

First Published in 1912

Printed in Great Britain

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

THE VISCOUNT DILLON, Hon. M.A. Oxon.

V.P.S.A., Etc. Etc.

CURATOR OF THE TOWER ARMOURIES

[ix]

I do not propose, in this work, to consider the history or development of defensive armour, for this has been more or less fully discussed in works which deal with the subject from the historical side of the question. I have rather endeavoured to compile a work which will, in some measure, fill up a gap in the subject, by collecting all the records and references, especially in English documents, which relate to the actual making of armour and the regulations which controlled the Armourer and his Craft. At the same time it is impossible to discuss this branch of the subject without overlapping in some details the existing works on Arms and Armour, but such repetition has only been included because it bears directly on the making, selling, or wearing of armour.

I have intentionally omitted all reference to the sword and other weapons of offence, for this would have unduly increased the size of the present work, and the subject is of such importance that it deserves a full consideration in a separate volume.

The original limits of this work have been considerably enlarged since it was offered as a thesis for the Degree of Bachelor of Letters in the University of Oxford in the Michaelmas Term, 1911. A polyglot glossary has been included, as this is a detail which has been practically overlooked by all English writers. The subject of Arms and Armour has not, up to the present time, received the attention in England that it deserves, but I would be the first to admit the value of the works of Meyrick and Hewitt, which are the foundations upon which German and French as well as all English authors have based their investigations. At the same time it should be remembered that these two authors were pioneers, and statements which they made have been contradicted or modified by more recent research. Two[x] examples of this will suffice. Meyrick named the upstanding neck-guards on the pauldron the “passguards” and the neck-armour of the horse the “mainfaire.” From the researches of Viscount Dillon we learn that the passguard was a reinforcing piece for the joust and the mainfaire was a gauntlet (main de fer.) Both these mistakes are still perpetuated in foreign works on the subject, which shows the influence of Meyrick’s work even at the present day.

The subject of the Armourer and his Craft has never received much attention in England, even at the hands of Meyrick and Hewitt. On the Continent, however, writers like the late Dr. Wendelin Boeheim, Gurlitt, Buff, and Angellucci have all added greatly to our store of information on the subject. Boeheim’s work on the Armourers of Europe (Meister der Waffenschmiedekunst) is the only work in any language which has given us some account of the armour craftsmen of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and I should be indeed remiss if I did not take this opportunity of acknowledging the assistance which this collection of biographies has been in the preparation of the present work. Signori Gelli and Moretti have collected interesting documents relating to the Missaglia family, but apart from this no other writers have made a study of the Armourer.

Gay’s Encyclopædia, which unfortunately was cut short after the letter G by the death of the author, is also invaluable as far as it goes, in that it gives in every case contemporary references relating to the use of each word. The late J. B. Giraud published certain records dealing with the Armourer in various French archæological journals, and M. Charles Buttin has placed all those interested in the subject under a deep obligation for his minute researches on the subject of the proving of armour.

Of living English writers I would express the indebtedness not only of myself, but also of all those who are true amateurs d’armes, to Baron de Cosson, who, with the late J. Burges, A.R.A., compiled the Catalogue of Helmets and Mail which is to this day the standard work on the subject. Last of all I would offer my sincere thanks to[xi] Viscount Dillon, Curator of the Tower Armouries, not only for his minute researches printed in the Archæologia and Archæological Journal, which have brought to light much valuable information respecting the Armourer and his Craft in English records, but also for very great personal interest and assistance in the compilation of this work.

CHARLES FFOULKES

S. John’s College,
Oxford, 1912

[xii]
[xiii]

APPENDICES

[xv]

[xvii]

[xix]

[xx]

[1]

THE ARMOURER
AND HIS CRAFT

The importance of the craft of the armourer in the Middle Ages can hardly be overestimated, for it is, to a large extent, to the excellence of defensive armour and weapons that we owe much of the development of art and craftsmanship all over Europe. The reason for this somewhat sweeping statement is to be found in the fact that up to the sixteenth century the individual and the personal factor were of supreme importance in war, and it was the individual whose needs the armourer studied. In the days when military organization was in its infancy, and the leader was endowed by his followers with almost supernatural qualities, the battle was often won by the prowess of the commander, or lost by his death or disablement. It would be tedious to quote more than a few instances of this importance of the individual in war, but the following are typical of the spirit which pervaded the medieval army.

At the battle of Hastings, when William was supposed to have been killed he rallied his followers by lifting his helmet and riding through the host crying, “I am here and by God’s grace I shall conquer!” The success of Joan of Arc need hardly be mentioned, as it is an obvious example of the change which could be effected in the spirit of an army by a popular leader. This importance of the individual was realized by the leaders themselves, and, as a safeguard, it was often the custom to dress one or more knights like the sovereign or commander to draw off the attack. At Bosworth field Richmond had more than[2] one knight who personated him; Shakespeare gives the number as five, for Richard says, “There be six Richmonds in the field; five have I slain instead of him.”

When the importance of the leader is realized it will be obvious that the craft of the man who protected him in battle was of the utmost importance to the State; and when once this is admitted, we may fairly consider that, in an age of ceaseless wars and private raids, the importance of all the other applied arts which followed in the train of a victorious leader depended to a very great extent on the protection afforded him by his armourer.[1]

It would be indeed superfluous to dwell upon the artistic influences which may be traced directly to the military operations of the Assyrians, Greeks, Romans, and at a later date the Northern tribes of Europe, for every writer on the subject bases his opinions upon this foundation. In more modern periods the conquest of Spain by the Moors introduced a type of design which has never been wholly eradicated from Spanish Art, and in our own country the Norman Conquest gave us a dignified strength of architecture which would never have been established as a national phase of art if the victory had been to Harold and the English. The improvements in the equipment and military organization of the foot-soldier in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries necessitated a more complete style of defensive armour for the mounted man, and the elaborate leg armour of plate may be directly traced to the improvement in the weapons of the former. As is the case at the present day in the navy, the race between weapon and defence was ceaseless, each improvement of the one being met by a corresponding improvement in the other, till the perfection of the firearm ruled any form of defence out of the competition. More peaceful influences were at work, however, due to the interchange of visits between European princes; and German and Italian fashions of armour, as well as of the other applied arts, competed with each other all over Europe, though their adoption may generally be traced to a ruler of note like Maximilian or Charles V.

So without undue exaggeration we may fairly claim for the craft of the armourer a foremost place as one of the chief influences in the[3] evolution of modern art and, as such, an important factor in the development of all the arts which follow in the train of conquest.

There are certain essential rules which must be observed in the practice of every craft; but in most cases only one or two are necessary for the production of good work, because of the limitations either of the craft or of the needs of those for whom it is practised. It would be out of place to go through the various applied arts and to consider the rules which guide them; but, on examination of these rules as they apply to the craft of the armourer, it will be seen how each and all are essential for the production of satisfactory work.

The rules are these:—

It may be advantageous to examine these rules one by one and see how they are observed to the full in the best specimens of armour and how their neglect produced inferior work.

1. Suitability for purpose.—The object of defensive armour was to protect the wearer from attack of the most powerful weapon in use at the period when it was made. This was obtained not only by thickness of metal, but also by so fashioning the planes of the metal that they presented a “glancing surface” to the blow. An early example of this consideration of the needs of the wearer is to be found in the first additions of plate to the suit of mail which were made in the leg armour of the thirteenth century (Fig. 38). The reason for this was the increased efficacy of the weapons of the foot-soldier, who naturally attacked the legs of the mounted man. The use of mail was far from practical, except in the form of gussets or capes, which could not be made so conveniently in plate. The mail armour of the thirteenth century was only a partial protection, for although it defended the wearer from arrows and from sword-cut or lance-thrust, it was but little protection against the bruise of the blow, even when, as was always[4] the case, a padded garment was worn underneath. Up to the sixteenth century the shield was used for this reason and provided a smooth movable surface which the knight could oppose to the weapon and thus present a glancing surface to the blow.

An examination of a suit of armour of the fifteenth century will show how this glancing surface was studied in every part. The lames of the arm-pieces are overlapped downwards so that the blow might slip off, and the elbow-cop presents a smooth rounded surface which will direct the blow off the arm of the wearer. The breastplate, which was at first simply smooth and rounded, became in the sixteenth century fluted; and a practical experiment will show that when the thrust of a lance—the favourite weapon at that time—met one of these flutings it was directed to the strong ridge at neck or arm hole and thence off the body (Plate 30, 2). The upstanding neck-guards, wrongly called “passe-guards,” were also intended to protect the weak part where helmet and gorget met. The fan-plate of the knee-piece protected the bend of the knee, especially when bent in riding, the normal position of the mounted man, and the sollerets were so fashioned that the foot was best protected when in the stirrup.

The helm and helmet are especially good examples of the craft of the armourer in this respect. The early flat-topped helm of the thirteenth century was soon discarded because it was found that the full force of the downward blow was felt, which was not the case when the skull of the head-piece was pointed or rounded (Fig. 1). A treatise on the subject of Military Equipment in the fifteenth century (Appendix D) distinctly enjoins that the rivets on the helm should be filed flat: “Et les autres ont la teste du clou limée affin que le rochet ny prengne.” This is not often found in existing helms, but the fact that it is mentioned shows that the smooth surface of the helm was an important consideration. In[5] helms made for jousting these considerations were minutely studied by the armourer, for the object of jousters in the sixteenth century was simply to score points and not to injure each other. The occularium of the jousting-helm is narrow and is so placed that it is only of use when the wearer bends forward with his lance in rest. The lance was always pointed across the horse’s neck and was directed to the left side of his opponent, therefore the left side of the helm is always smooth with no projection or opening (Fig. 2). These are found, in cases where they occur, on the right side, where there would be no chance of their catching the lance-point. Again, the skull and front plate of the helm are generally thicker than those at the back, where there is no chance of a blow being delivered.

2. Convenience in use.—Besides protecting the fighting man the armourer had to remember that his patron had to ride, sometimes to walk, and always to use his arms with convenience, and at the same time had to be protected while so doing. At first the cuirass was made simply in two pieces, the back and the front fastened under the arms with straps. In the middle of the fifteenth century each of these was made in two or more pieces joined with a rivet, working loose in a slot cut in the uppermost of the plates, so that a certain amount of movement of the torse was possible. The pauldrons, which often appear unnecessarily large, almost meeting in front and, as is the case in the statue of Colleoni in Venice, crossing at the back, are so made that they would protect the armpit when the arm was raised in striking a blow (Fig. 3). The upper part of the arm-piece or rerebrace is made of overlapping lames held together by sliding rivets, which allow a certain amount of play outwards and forwards, but the defence becomes rigid if the arm[6] is moved backwards, for this movement is not necessary in delivering a blow (see page 52). The arm and leg pieces are hinged with metal hinges on the outside of the limb and fastened with straps or hooks and staples on the inside. In most cases modern theatrical armour errs in this respect, for it is obvious that if the straps were on the outside the first object of the enemy would be to cut them and render the armour useless. The vambrace or cannon and the lower portion of the rerebrace are in single cylindrical plates, for here no movement is possible independently from the shoulder and elbow. The rerebrace, however, is generally formed with a collar which turns in a groove bossed out in the upper portion, so that the arm can turn outwards or inwards without moving the shoulder (see page 54). The cuisse and the front and back of the jamb are for the same reasons each made in one piece, joined to the knee-cop and solleret by narrow lames working loose on rivets. The cuisse only covers the top part of the thigh for convenience on horseback, and wherever a cuisse is found that protects the back of the thigh[7] we may be sure that the owner fought on foot (Plate IX). The solleret is made so that the foot can move naturally in walking. The upper part is formed of small lames working on loose rivets and overlapping downwards towards a centre-plate which covers the tread of the foot; beyond this the toe-plates overlap upwards and thus perfect freedom of movement is obtained.

The various forms of head-piece all more or less exemplify this need of convenience in use, for they protected the head and at the same time gave as much opportunity for seeing, hearing, and breathing as was compatible with their defensive qualities. The armet or close helmet is perhaps the most ingenious, with its single or double visor, which could be lifted up so as to leave the face completely exposed till the moment of attack, when it was closed and fastened with a locking hook (Plate XIII). Examples of the armourer adapting his work to the requirements of his patrons are to be found in the globose helm for fighting at barriers made by one of the Missaglia family (Tower, II, 29). Here the vision-slits were evidently found to be too large and too dangerous to the wearer. An inner plate was added with smaller holes through which no weapon used at barriers could penetrate (Plate X). A second example shown in Fig. 14 has a plate added at the lower edge to increase the height of the helm, which suggests that the last wearer had a longer neck than the original owner. This convenience in use is also to be noticed in the gauntlet, which, as the science of sword-play developed, was gradually discarded in favour of a defence formed of the portes or rings on the sword-hilt (Plate XXII). In jousting-armour there was only one position to be considered, namely, the position with hand on bridle and lance in rest. The armourer therefore strove to protect his patron when he assumed that position alone. The arm defences of jousting-armour with elbow-guard and poldermitton would be useless if the wearer had to raise his arm with a sword, but, when the lance was held in rest, the plates of the defences were so arranged that every blow slipped harmlessly off. As the right hand was protected with the large shield or vamplate fixed to the lance a gauntlet for this hand was frequently dispensed with, and, as the left hand was only employed to hold the reins, a semi-cylindrical plate protected the hand instead of the articulated gauntlet in use on the field of war (Plate I).

[8]

Horse armour or “barding” was of necessity more cumbrous and but little was attempted beyond the covering of the vital parts of the body with plates or padded trappings (Fig. 5). Mail was used for the whole “bard” in the thirteenth century, as we know from the decorations in the “Painted Chamber” at Westminster.[2] It was still in use for the neck-defence or “crinet” in the middle of the fifteenth century. Examples of the latter are to be found in Paris (Plate XXIII) and in the[9] Wallace Collection, No. 620. Some attempt to make an articulated suit was evidently made; for we have a portrait of Harnischmeister Albrecht (1480) mounted on a horse whose legs are completely covered by articulated plates similar to those on human armour (Fig. 6). A portion of the leg-piece of this or of a similar suit is in the Musée Porte de Hal,[10] Brussels (Fig. 7). Besides the obvious advantage of plate armour over mail for defensive purposes, it should be noted that in the former the weight is distributed over the body and limbs, while with the latter the whole equipment hangs from the shoulders, with possibly some support at the waist. Hence the movements of the mail-clad man were much hampered both by the weight of the fabric, and also by the fact that in bending the arm or leg the mail would crease in folds, and would thus both interfere with complete freedom and would probably produce a sore from chafing.

3. Recognition of material.—It would seem at first sight superfluous to give examples of this when considering armour; but in the sixteenth century, when the craftsman desired to show off his technical skill, we find many suits made to imitate the puffed and slashed velvets and silks of civilian dress. A notable example of this is to be found on the famous “Engraved Suit” made by Conrad Seusenhofer for Henry VIII in the Tower, in which the cloth “bases” or skirts of civilian dress are imitated in metal (Plates XII, XXI). The human form, head and torse, were also counterfeited in metal in the sixteenth century, with no great success from the technical point of view.

4. Soundness of constructional methods.—This rule is really contained in those that have preceded it, but some notice should be paid to the various methods of fastening different plates and portions of the suit together. There are many ingenious forms of turning hook and pin by which these plates can be joined or taken apart at will (page 55). The sliding rivet is one of the most important of these constructional details. The lower end of the rivet is burred over the back of the lower plate, and the upper plate has a slot cut of less width than the rivet-head, but sufficiently long to allow the plate to move backwards and forwards, generally from three-quarters to one inch (page 52).

5. Subservience of decoration to the preceding rules.—The best suits are practically undecorated, but at the same time there are many[11] which are ornamented with incised or engraved lines and gilding which do not detract from the utility of the armour. This last rule is best understood by examples of the breach rather than the observance; so we may take the rules in order and see how each was broken during that period known as the Renaissance.

(1) The “glancing surface” was destroyed by elaborate embossing, generally of meaningless designs, in which the point or edge of a weapon would catch.

(2) The convenience was also impaired by the same methods, for the lames and different portions of the suit could not play easily one over the other if each had designs in high relief. Plates were set at unpractical angles, sometimes overlapping upwards, in which the weapon would catch and would not glance off. We find that foot-armour was made in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries with the lames all overlapping upwards or downwards, and with no centre-plate for the tread. In the suit given to Henry, Prince of Wales, by the Prince de Joinville in 1608 (Tower, II, 17) the lames of the solleret all overlap downwards (see also Fig. 4). It will be obvious that with such a foot-covering it would be impossible to walk with ease.

(3) The observance of this rule may be taken as a matter of course and its neglect has been noticed above.

(4) The careless arrangement of the foot-armour, as mentioned in No. 2, is an example of the disregard of this rule. Another instance is the embossing the metal of various parts of the suit so as to simulate lames or separate plates. They do not ornament the suit and of course do not add to its convenience; they merely create a false impression and save the craftsman some labour. The same may be said of the “clous perdus” or false rivets, which are found in late suits, doing no work in the construction of the suit, but giving an appearance of constructional work which is lacking.

(5) One has only to keep the above rules in mind and then to examine an embossed suit by Piccinino or Peffenhauser to see how this rule was broken to the detriment of the work as a good piece of craftsmanship, though perhaps the result may have increased the artistic reputation of the craftsman (Plate XIV).

It should be noticed that the craftsman of the Renaissance, in spite[12] of his disregard of the craft rules, did not deteriorate as a worker; for some of the suits of the Negrolis or of the two above-mentioned armourers could hardly be equalled at the present day as specimens of metal-work. But his energies were directed into different channels and his reputation as an honest craftsman suffered. By the sixteenth century everything concerned with the defensive qualities and the constructional details of armour had been discovered and carried to a high pitch of perfection. The craftsman therefore had to find some way of exhibiting his dexterity. Add to this the love of ostentation and display of his patron, one of the most noticeable traits of the so-called Renaissance, and we find that by degrees the old craft-excellence became neglected in the advertisement of the craftsman and the ostentation of his patron.

In dealing with the first rule no mention was made of the defensive qualities of armour against firearms, and this from the middle of the sixteenth century was an important detail in the craft of the armourer. The glancing surface was of some use; but the armed man could not afford to take chances. So his equipment was made to resist a point-blank shot of pistol or arquebus. This will be noticed with details as to the proof of armour on page 65. It was the fact that armour was proof against firearms which led to its disuse, and not that it was of no avail against them, as is the generally accepted idea. The armourer proved his work by the most powerful weapons in use, and by so doing found that he had to increase the weight of metal till it became insupportable (see page 117).

In the days when travelling was difficult and the difficulties of transportation great, both on account of the condition of the roads and also because of the insecurity of life and property, due to national and personal wars, it was but natural that each country and district should be in a large measure self-supporting, especially with respect to armour and weapons. At the same time, by degrees, some localities produced superior work, either because they possessed natural resources or because some master founded a school with superior methods to those of his neighbours. Thus we find Milan famous for hauberks, Bordeaux[3] for swords, Colin cleeves (Cologne halberds), Toulouse swords, misericordes of Versy, chapeaux de Montauban (steel hats), Barcelona bucklers,[13] arbalests of Catheloigne, and of course swords of Solingen, Toledo, and Passau.

The principal centres for the making of armour were Italy and Germany, and it is quite impossible to say which of the two was the superior from the craftsman’s point of view. If anything, perhaps the German school favoured a rather heavier type of equipment, due, no doubt, to the natural characteristics of the race as compared with the Italian, and also, when the decadence of armour began, perhaps the German armourer of the Renaissance erred more in respect of useless and florid ornamentation than did his Italian rival. But even here the types are so similar that it is almost impossible to discriminate. France produced no great armourers, at least we have no records of craft-princes such as the Colmans, the Seusenhofers, the Missaglias, or the Negrolis, and the same may be said of England. We have isolated examples here and there of English and French work, but we have no records of great schools in either country like those of Milan, Brescia, Nuremberg, Augsburg, and Innsbruck. A few scattered entries from state or civic documents will be found under the various headings of this work and portions of regulations respecting the trade; but of the lives of the craftsmen we know but little. At a time when personal safety in the field was of the utmost importance, it can be easily understood that the patron would take no risks, but would employ for choice those craftsmen who held the highest repute for their work, just as till recently the prospective motorist or airman would not risk a home-made machine, but patronized French makers. It may seem strange that the local craftsmen did not attempt to improve their work when examples of foreign skill were imported in great quantities; but against this we must set the fact that the detail of the first importance in the craft of the armourer was the tempering of the metal and this the craftsman kept a close secret. We have various accounts of secret processes, miraculous springs of water, poisoned ores, and such-like which were employed, fabulously no doubt, to attain fine temper for the metal, but no details are given. It may be that the metal itself was superior in some districts, as witness the Trial of Armour given on page 66. Seusenhofer when provided with inferior metal from the mines by Kugler suggested that it should be classed as “Milanese,” a clear proof[14] that the German craftsmen, at any rate, considered the Italian material to be inferior to their own. Little is known as to the production of the Florentine armourers. Mr. Staley in his Guilds of Florence has unfortunately found little of importance under this heading in the civic records of the city.

The “Corazzi e spadai” of Florence will, however, be always known by their patron S. George, whose statue by Donatello stood outside the gild church of Or San Michele. At the base of the niche in which it stood are carved the arms given in Fig. 8.

Armourers were imported by sovereigns and princes to produce armour for their personal use and thus to avoid the difficulties of transit, but they seem to have kept their craft to themselves and to have founded no school. Henry VIII brought over the “Almain Armourers” to Greenwich at the beginning of his reign, but most of them went back in time to their own country, and few took out denization papers. In 1624 we find that only one of the descendants of these foreigners was left and he resolutely refused to teach any one the “mysterie of plating” (page 188). A colony of armourers migrated from Milan to Arbois towards the end of the fifteenth century, but no celebrated craftsmen seem to have joined them except the Merate brothers, who worked for Maximilian and Mary of Burgundy. It is difficult, in fact impossible, to say which country led in the beginnings of the armourer’s craft. We have the suit of Roberto di Sanseverino (Vienna, Waffensammlung, No. 3) signed with the mark of Antonio Missaglia, circ. 1470, and we also have a statuette by Hans Multscher at Augsburg, circ. 1458,[15] which represents S. George in a suit of armour of precisely the same design (Fig. 9). It should be noted, however, that the treatment of this figure shows a strong Italian influence. In European history of the fifteenth century we have few records of German armourers being employed, during the first half, at any rate, by the rulers of other states. We know that Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, travelled in Italy and wore armour of a distinctly Italian style, for it is depicted in the Beauchamp Pageants (Fig. 10) and is also shown on his magnificent monument in S. Mary’s Church, Warwick. The likeness of the armour on this monument to that shown in the picture of S. George, by Mantegna, in the Accademia, Venice, is so striking that we are bound to admit that the two suits must have been produced by the same master, and on comparison with the suit in Vienna above alluded to, that master must have been one of the Missaglia family. The Earl of Warwick died in 1439 and Mantegna was born about 1431, so that it is quite possible that the former purchased a suit of the very latest fashion when in Italy, and that the latter, realizing the beauty of work produced when he was but a boy, used a similar suit as a model for his picture (Plate II). As early as 1398 the Earl of Derby had armour brought over to England by Milanese armourers, and by the year 1427 Milan had become such an important factory town that it supplied in a few days armour for 4000 cavalry and 2000 infantry.

The impetus given to the craft in Germany was due to the interest of the young Emperor Maximilian, who encouraged not only the armourer, but every other craftsman and artist in his dominions. In the Weisz Künig we find him teaching the masters of all crafts how best to do their own work, though this is probably an exaggeration of the sycophantic author and illustrator. Still we are forced to admit that the crafts in Germany attained to a very high level during his reign. In the description of his visit to Conrad Seusenhofer, the armourer,[16] it is recorded that the latter wished to employ certain devices of his own in the making of armour, to which the young Emperor replied, “Arm me according to my own wish, for it is I and not you who will take part in the tournament.” From Germany came armour presented by the Emperor to Henry VIII, and it is clear that such a master as Seusenhofer, working so near the Italian frontier as Innsbruck, must have influenced the Milanese work, just as the Milanese in the first instance influenced the German craftsmen. With the succession of Charles V to the thrones of Spain and Germany we find a new impetus given to German armourers. In Spain there seems to have been a strong feeling in favour of Milanese work, and the contest between the two schools of craftsmen was bitter in the extreme. So personal did this feud become that we find Desiderius Colman in 1552 making a shield for Charles V on which the maker is represented as a bull charging a Roman soldier on whose shield is the word “Negrol,” a reference to the rivalry between the Colmans and the Negrolis of Milan (Plate XXIV). With the demand for decorated armour the rivalry between the two centres of trade increased, and there is little to choose between the works of the German and Italian craftsmen, either in the riotous incoherence of design or in the extraordinary skill with which it was produced and finished.

[17]

From entries in the State Papers preserved in the Record Office, it would seem that Milanese armourers were employed by Henry VIII during the first years of his reign. By the year 1515 the Almain or German armourers from Brussels had evidently taken their place, for they are entered as king’s servants with liveries. Only one Milanese name is found in the list of armourers, Baltesar Bullato, 1532, so that it is clear that Henry, owing, no doubt, to the influence of Maximilian, had definitely committed himself to German armour as opposed to Italian. England seems to have remained faithful to this German influence, but her rulers and nobles never indulged in the exaggerated and over-elaborate productions which held favour in Spain and Germany, a fact which is noticeable even at the present day, when the so-called “Art Nouveau” disfigures many German and Italian cities but has never obtained a serious foothold in England. Simplicity and practicality were always the chief features in English armour. The few known[18] specimens of English work of the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, the jousting-helms at Westminster, Woolwich, Ashford, Petworth, and the Wallace Collection, are examples of this, and the armour of later years has the same qualification (Figs. 11–14). Even the suits of Topf, who worked in England at the end of the sixteenth century and produced the magnificent work that is shown at the Tower, Windsor, and elsewhere, the designs for which are contained in an album in the Art Library at South Kensington, are marked by a restraint which is not found in the works of Piccinino and Peffenhauser. The decoration never impairs the utility of the armour, and the designs are always those suitable for work in tempered steel, and are not in any way suggestive of the goldsmith’s work of his foreign contemporaries. In the English national collections we have but little eccentric armour, which is so common in Continental museums; all is severe and yet graceful, practical even if decorated, a tribute to the characteristics of the English race of fighting men.

The ornamentation of armour with gilding had obtained such a firm hold that in the seventeenth century James II was obliged to make an exception in its favour in his proclamation against the use of “gold and silver foliate,” an extract of which is given in Appendix I, page 187. In discussing the craft of the armourer it should be remembered that we can only base our conclusions on the scattered entries of payments, inventories, and other documents in State or private collections, and by examination of suits which have been preserved in the armouries and collections of Europe and England. These suits represent but a very small percentage of the large stores of armour of all kinds which must have been in existence at the beginning of the seventeenth century, and it is only the fine and exceptional examples which have survived. The material was so costly in the making that it was made and remade over and over again; which will account for the absence of complete suits of the fourteenth century and the scarcity of those of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries now in existence. Occasionally we have local collections which give us a suggestion of what the standing armoury must have been, such as the armour stores at Gratz, Zurich, the collection of helmets and armour found in the castle of Chalcis,[4] and village[19] armouries like that at Mendlesham, Suffolk. Two examples of the treatment of armour must suffice. In the Inventory of the Tower, taken in 33 Hen. VI, 1455, is the entry: “Item viij habergeons some of Meleyn and some of Westewale of the which v of Melyn were delyv’ed to the College of Eyton and iij broken to make slewys and voyders and ye’s.” Here clearly the hauberk is cut up and used to make sleeves and gussets, which were more useful when the complete plate body-defences had come into fashion than the shirt of mail. This is also another example of the competition between Milan and Germany (Westphalia) in the matter of armour-making. As an example of the other reason for the absence of armour in national and private collections in any great quantities, we may cite Hearne’s account of his visit to Ditchley, given in his Remains under the date 1718. He says: “In one of the outhouses I saw strange armour which belonged to the ancestors[5] of the Earl of Litchfield, some of the armour very old.” In the steward’s accounts of but a few weeks later Viscount Dillon has discovered an entry, “received of Mr. Mott, the brazier for the old armour wayed 14 cwt. 1 qr. 21 lb. at 10s. the cwt. £7. 4. 6.” The saddles had been previously cut up to nail up the fruit trees.[6] From the weight of armour sold there were probably about twenty suits, some of which must certainly have been of value, possibly one or more of the missing suits designed by Topf for Sir Henry Lee and illustrated in the Almain Armourer’s Album now in the South Kensington Art Library. It can be readily understood that when the historic or artistic value of armour was not appreciated it was a cumbrous and useless possession, which soon deteriorated if not kept clean and bright, and therefore it was melted down just as are the broken stoves and domestic ironmongery which litter the rubbish-heaps to-day. We find interesting examples of the application of munitions of war to peaceful purposes in the use of sword-pommels as weights for steelyards, helmets for buckets and scale-bowls, and portions of body armour cut up and fashioned into lock-covers in the Stibbert Museum, Florence, in the collection of the Marchese Peruzzi, and elsewhere.[7] Even as late as the year 1887 the value of armour was not realized, for in that year two half-suits, stamped[20] with the college mark, were sold from New College, Oxford, as old iron (Arms and Armour in Oxford, C. ffoulkes).

State and civic records have frequent entries of regulations and disputes connected with the various craft-gilds, and the armourers were no exception. The right of search was a privilege jealously guarded, for it prevented the competition of those outside the gild and was also a check against foreign competition, which was always a thorn in the side of the armourer. Every country enacted laws against importation of arms, and yet for really fine work every country had to look to Italy or Germany. But this was probably the case only among the richest, and it is the elaborate workmanship on the armour which has ensured the survival of many suits of this type. The ordinary hosting or war-harness was made quite as well in England as elsewhere; just as the Englishwoman of to-day can be dressed as well in London as in Paris; but, if she can afford it, elects to pay large sums for the cachet of the Parisian name. With regard to the documents bearing on the life of individual armourers, we have such records as wills, registers of baptisms and marriages, and also trade accounts and bills. In the latter the armourer seems to have been no better off than the painter or sculptor of the Middle Ages and Renaissance. He was always in financial difficulties and was ceaselessly pressing his patron for payment. An example of this is given on page 59, where we find that W. Pickering was paid £200 in 1614, the balance of his bill for £340, for a suit made for Henry, Prince of Wales, who died in 1612; so that he had to wait at least two years before he received the whole amount. Conrad Seusenhofer suffered in the same way and his life was one long struggle with Maximilian and the Diet for payments for his work. The armourer, however, had the advantage over his fellow-craftsmen; for when a war or a tournament was imminent he made his own terms and refused delivery till he had received payment.

The craft of the armourer merits far more study than has hitherto been bestowed upon it, for in its finest examples it fulfils all the essential laws of good craftsmanship to the uttermost. Added to this the works of the armourer have what may be called a double personal interest. In the first place, they are the actual wearing apparel of kings, princes, and other persons of note, made to their measure and often exhibiting some[21] peculiarity of their owner. Owing to the perishable nature of fabrics but little of wearing apparel has survived to us of the periods anterior to the seventeenth century, and therefore the suit of armour is most valuable as an historical record, especially when taken in conjunction with portraits, historical paintings, and sculpture. In addition to this we have the personality of the maker. The boldly grooved breast-plate, the pauldrons, and the wide elbow-cops of the Missaglia, the distinctive hook for the armet which appears only on Topf suits can be recognized at once, and besides this we have the poinçon or signature of the craftsman, which it is almost impossible to imitate, and which at once proclaims the authorship of the armour.

The whole subject of the armourer and his craft, his limitations, his success at his best period, and his decadence in later years can be best summed up in the illustration given on Plate III. Here we have the graceful and light yet serviceable suit of Sigismond of Tirol, made by an unknown armourer about the year 1470, placed side by side with the cumbrous defence made for Louis XIV by Garbagnus of Brescia in 1668. Though this craftsman must have had fine work by his forefathers at hand to study, and though the other arts and crafts were tending towards a light and flowing, if meaningless, style of design, the craft of the armourer had by this time reached a depth of sheer utilitarian ugliness which was never equalled even in the most primitive years of its history.

[22]

The tools used by the armourers of all nations differ but little from the implements of the blacksmith and, as will be seen in considering the various inventories that survive, these have scarcely varied in form during the centuries. When once invented the hammer, the anvil, the vice, the chisel, and the pincers are open to but few improvements, and even with the advent of steam and mechanical power, the functions of the tool remain and are simply guided by a machine instead of by the hand.

The chief work of the armourer was the beating out of plates from the solid ingot of metal and therefore we find that all illustrations dealing with this craft show the workmen engaged in this operation. When once the rough shape of the piece was obtained a great deal of the work was done when the metal was cold, as will be seen from examination of the illustrations.

When the craft of the armourer became important and when a large trade was done in these munitions of war, it was found more convenient to have the plates beaten out in special mills before they were handed over to the armourer to make up into armour. These battering-mills are noticed on pages 35, 188.

In many instances they were probably owned by the armourers and were often under the same roof; but the fact that we find hammermen, millmen, platers, and armourers mentioned together in records and bills of payment to armouries seems to suggest that they had different duties assigned to them.

That the work of the plater was quite distinct from that of the armourer in the sixteenth century we gather from entries in the State Papers Domestic, and in the reign of James I, which will be discussed more fully farther on in this chapter.

The earliest European illustration of an armourer at work at present known is to be found in the thirteenth-century Aeneid of Heinrich von Waldec (codex MS. Germ. fol. 282, p. 79) in the Königl. Bib. Berlin[23] (Plate IV). From the fact that the armourer (Vulcan) is holding the helm with pincers we may infer that he is working it hot. The anvil as shown in this miniature (Plate IV) is square and of primitive form and would seem to be quite useless for the work, but this may be due to the inexperience of the artist. The hammer, however, is carefully drawn and is evidently from some real example in which the face is rounded in a slightly convex form and the toe ends in a small blunted point which may be for riveting small objects or for making small bosses.

In the fifteenth century we find more care as to details and more operations shown in the illustration on the same plate, taken from a miniature by Boccace in Les Clercs et Nobles Femmes (Bib. Reg. 16, G, v. fol. II) in the British Museum. Here we have several men at work under the superintendence of a lady who is generally supposed to be the Countess Matilda, while their labours are enlivened by a flute-player. The man at the bench appears to be putting together a defence composed of circular plates laced to a leather or linen foundation which strongly resembles the culet of so-called “penny plate” armour in the Tower (III, 358). The helm-smith is working on a bascinet which he holds with pincers, but he is using the toe of the hammer and not the face, which hardly seems a likely operation. He holds the helmet on a helmet-stake which probably has a rounded surface for finishing off the curves. The seated man is perhaps the most interesting figure, for he is a rare example of a mail-maker at work, closing up the rings with a pair of pincers. Up to the present we have no definite idea as to how the intricate operation of mail-making was accomplished so as to turn out rapidly coats of mail. It is probable that some form of pincer was used which pierced the flattened ends of the ring and closed up the rivet when inserted. Possibly investigations in the East, where mail is still made, may throw some light upon the subject.[8][24] The illustration by Jost Amman (Fig. 15) certainly shows the craftsman using a punch and hammer for his work and the only other tool shown is a pair of shears. Mail was in use up to the first years of the seventeenth century, so we may be sure the artist drew his figure from life.

Few of the actual tools of the armourer survive to us at the present day. In the Burges Bequest in the British Museum is a fine anvil decorated with figures of saints in relief of the sixteenth century, which appears to have been used by a craftsman dealing with metal in plates or sheets, for the face of the anvil is burred over in a manner that would not be the case if the smith had worked with bars or rods, the usual materials of the blacksmith. In the same case is a pair of armourer’s pincers which resemble the multum in parvo tools of to-day, for they include hammer, wire-cutter, nail-drawer, and turnscrew (Plate V). A similar pair of pincers exists in the Rotunda Museum, Woolwich (XVI, 200). In the Wallace Collection (No. 88) is an armourer’s hammer of the sixteenth century with a faceted copper head, the reason for which was probably the need for avoiding scratching the surface when finishing a piece. In the same collection is a finely decorated farrier’s hammer (1002), which also includes a nail-drawer and turn-nut. The handle is inlaid with brass and mother-of-pearl and is decorated with engravings of S. George and a musketeer of about 1640. A decorated anvil and vice which were catalogued as those of an armourer, the property of Mr. Ambrose Morell, were exhibited in the Metropolitan Museum, New York, in 1911, but from the form and size of the tools they would appear to have been rather those of the silversmith than of the armourer. Jost Amman’s “Armourer” (Fig. 16) calls for no special notice, as no tools are shown in the workshop, and is merely of interest as being included in this Book of Trades, published in 1590.

The earliest inventory containing armourers’ tools is found in the archives of the city of Lille. It is dated 1302 and refers to the effects[25] of the Constable de Nesle in the Hôtel de Soissons, Paris. The inventory is a long one and includes many interesting details of furniture, fabrics, and armour. That portion relating to the tools runs as follows:—

Another early inventory is that of Framlingham Castle, Norfolk, of the year 1308:—

ix capellae ferratae at iv s.
iii vices ad eandem tendentes at ii s.

The earliest complete English inventory of tools connected with the craft of the armourer occurs in the Accounts of the Constable of Dover Castle. Two separate lists are given at different dates, which may be studied with more convenience if placed side by side:—[9]

[26]

All the above tools are in use at the present day, except perhaps the “nailetoules” for closing the rivets, and, as has been stated above, if we could but discover what this implement was we might find that it is also used at the present day for some other purpose. The nearest approach to such a tool is the eyelet-hole maker and riveter used by bootmakers. The “bicornes” are still known to-day as bickirons. They are small anvils with long horns which are used when riveting tubes or turning over long pieces of metal. It is a little uncertain as to whether the “folour” derives its name from the same root as the modern French “fouloir,” a “rammer,” or from the Latin “follis,” “bellows.” The former would seem more probable, as it was made of iron. The “fusels de feer aicele” present some difficulty, but they may be taken to be spindles of some kind, possibly for the grindstones. The “wynches” explain themselves, but the addition of “as meme la peer” is not so clear, for from the next item “peer” evidently means “stone,” for it is a trough of stone for water; at the same time the word “pair” is often written “peer” at this period, so it may refer to a pair of winches. The bellows, shears, and grindstone call for no special comment, but the “hurthestaf” presents some difficulty. It would seem to be derived from the word “hearth” or “herth,” in which case it would probably be a long iron rod, rake, or poker, used for tending the forge-fire. This seems to be borne out in the inventory of 1514, where it is spelt “harth stake.” The “cottyngyre” and “markingyre” may be found in every blacksmith’s shop to-day as cold-chisels and marking-iron.

The next entry bearing upon the subject of tools and workshop requirements is found in an Inventory under Privy Seal of Henry VI, dated 1485, at which time John Stanley, of Wyrall, Cheshire, was Sergeant of the Armoury of the Tower.[26] Here we find the following items recorded:—

[27]

The “bequerne” is the same as the “bicorn” mentioned in the Dover Castle inventory.

In the earlier periods we have no records as to the material used or the quantities required. It is only when we come to the sixteenth century that we find detailed accounts kept to assist our investigations respecting the making of armour.

The next inventory worthy of note contains a list of payments made to John Blewbery, who was in charge of the workshops in 3 Henry VIII, 1514.

Public Record Office.

xviii September Also payde by Owre Commandement to John Blewbery for the new fforge at Greenwiche made for the Armarers of Brussells these peces ensuynge.

Here we find the outfit more elaborate than that scheduled at Dover. The various “stakes” in use show that there were special appliances for making every part of the armour, both as regards the anvils and the hammers. The “halve” with the two chisels is, of course, the haft or handle, which could be fitted to either. The “vi stokks to set the Tolys” are presumably handles in which the tools were fixed. The “ponchons” are punches used in the repoussé work. The “xvi dobles” were probably heavy iron models on which the various pieces were shaped. Two specimens in the Tower (a morion, IV, 227, and a breastplate, III, 209), are considered by the present Curator to be dobles, for they are cast and not wrought, are far too heavy for actual use, and have no holes for rivets or for attaching the lining.

In the illustration given on Plate VI, taken from Hans Burgmair’s Weisz Künig, many of these tools are shown in use. The engraving was produced by an artist who was also a designer of armour, so they would certainly be correctly drawn. The various small stakes are all in use and all the work is being done with the metal cold, for the men are holding it with their hands. This working of the cold metal tends to compress the crystals and to make the metal hard, and is more than once alluded to in works upon armour. Gaya, in his Traité des armes,[43] mentions this detail, and again Jean de Saulx-Tavannes[44] mentions “cuirasses battues à froid” when speaking of armour of “proof,” which is also noticed in the present work under that heading.

[29]

The following extracts from various books and documents relate to the tools and appliances of the armourer:—

These chastones or clavones were rivets for fastening the crests of the knights and also of the horses. Most of the items in this roll were supplied by curriers or tailors, for the weapons and armour were of wood or leather, and metal does not seem to have been used.

These are evidently the contents of the castle armourer’s workshop: an anvil, a hammer, and a small pair of bellows of no value. Perhaps such items are hardly worth chronicling, but in a work of this nature it seems to be advisable to collect every entry bearing upon the subject, so as to make it a complete study of the craft of the armourer both technically and historically, as far as is possible with the very limited material obtainable.

This refers to the travelling armourer who accompanied his lord to the tournament or to war.

These are the small rivets used in making the brigandine. A brigandine with sleeves at Madrid (c. 11) is composed of 3827 separate plates and over 7000 rivets were used in putting it together.

[30]

The “tresses” were plaited laces for fastening the various portions of armour to the wearer. These may be seen in the portrait of the Duc de Nevers(?) at Hampton Court, the picture of S. Demetrius by L’Ortolano in the National Gallery, and more clearly in the portrait of an unknown navigator in the Fortnum Room of the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. The arming-points will be found described and illustrated on page 109.

The emery and oil were used in cleaning the armour and will be noticed in due course on page 78. The nippers, pincers, etc., have been alluded to before. The “sti’the” is an anvil, a term used up to Shakespeare’s time, as may be found in Hamlet, iii. 2, 89. All these “Towles” or tools would be part of the travelling equipment of the armourer who accompanied his lord on active service.

[31]

The mill-wheel was for the water-power used for turning the grind-stones and other appliances which will be noticed later on in this chapter. The “glasys” are probably the glazing-wheels for putting the final polish upon the finished armour. The white soap was for lubricating the axle of the mill-wheel or for the final polish of the metal on the wheel or buff. The “gauntlet nailes” are small rivets for gauntlets which, being of thinner metal, would require a smaller-sized rivet than the rest of the body armour. The steel for vambraces and gauntlets was probably thinner than that used for other portions of the suit.

It is difficult to see why this payment should have been made unless the fishmonger had imported the Innsbruck metal in one of his boats. The term “Isebroke” will be found mentioned under the chapter dealing with the Proving of Armour.

The “Lymbricke” metal came from Limburg, in North Brabant.

[32]

On page 31 it was noted that in 1516 four bundles of steel cost £8 6s. 8d., in 1517 2541 lb. cost £26 12s., that is about 2½d. per lb. From these three entries taken together we gather that the “bundle” was about 20 lb.

This record contains other details in connection with the two workshops of Greenwich and Westminster, in which 12 armourers, 2 locksmiths, and 2 millmen and 2 prentices are employed who “will make yearly, with the said 16 bundles of steel and the other stuff aforesaid, 32 harnesses complete, every harness to be rated to the king’s Highness at £12, which amounteth in the year towards his Grace’s charge iii^c iiii^xx iiii^li ” (£384).

From these details we can find approximately that the 32 suits required 13 hundred of iron and 195 lb. of whisp steel. Therefore each suit took 40¾ lb. of iron and about 6 lb. of whisp steel.

[33]

The leather was either for straps and linings for the armour, or may have been used for facing the polishing-wheels or “buffs.” The year was divided into thirteen lunar months.

This is more or less a poetic licence, for the riveting was only done on each separate piece, and these were joined on the wearer with straps, arming-points, or turning-pins. Of course this entry should be taken as made at the year when Shakespeare wrote, and not as representing an actual occurrence at Agincourt.

In this entry are mentioned arming nails, butret nails, hammers, punshions, sheres, fyles, sand for scouring, cords, points, oyletholes, tow and butten nails.

The following details are mentioned:—

The “nails” here mentioned are rivets of iron or brass or copper. Some were tinned to prevent rusting, a custom which was practised as early as 1361, for we find in one of the inventories of Dover Castle[52][34] under that date “xiii basynetz tinez.” The “taches” for gauntlets were fastenings of some kind, possibly turning-pins. The “brockases” were also probably brooches or fastenings of some sort, and the “tacejoyntz” hinges for attaching the tassets to the taces.

The entries in this document will be examined fully on page 41.

This entry occurs in a document under the Privy Seal of Charles I, dated Westminster, June 29, which refers to the using of a hall-mark for armour. The principal portion of this is given in Appendix K, page 191.

[35]

In the second of these extracts “co Gloucester” is a slip of the pen due to the close proximity of “Gloucester Hall.” It should of course read “Oxford.” The mill was originally owned by the nuns of Godstow, who received it from Henry I. It is now used by the Clarendon Press for paper-making. Gloucester Hall is now Worcester College. There are no records either in the city or university to throw more light on these entries.

The mill is described in the rental of the manor, 44 Edw. III, 1371, as one for grinding steel and valued at 3s. 4d. per ann.

The entry which refers to the loss of the “Great Bear,” a large anvil formerly at Greenwich, is given in full in Appendix M.

Before leaving the subject of tools and appliances, some notice should be taken of the picture by Jan Breughel (1575–1632) entitled “Venus at the Forge of Vulcan” (Kais. Friedrich Mus., Berlin, No. 678), which measures 54 cm. by 93 cm. Here all the various operations of the armourer and gun-founder are shown, with a large quantity of armour, weapons, bells, coins, and goldsmith’s work. The details of especial interest are the grindstones and “glazing-wheels,” and the “tilt-hammers” worked by water-power, which were probably the machines used in the “battering-mills” more than once alluded to above. These water-turned hammers continued in use in England up[36] to the first quarter of the nineteenth century,[59] and are still found in Italy at the present day. They are raised by wooden cams or teeth set round the axle of the water-wheel, to which a handle is fixed on the near side for use when water-power was not available. The chisel-edge of the hammer is for stretching the metal by means of a series of longitudinal hammerings. Of the grindstones actuated by the same water-power, the larger would be for rough work, the second for finer finish, and the smallest, which is probably a wooden “buff,” would be used for the high polish at the end.

It is impossible here to give a detailed description of this very interesting picture, which has been considered elsewhere by the present author.[60] At the same time the tools shown in this workshop are worthy of notice as being part of the stock-in-trade of the armourer of the seventeenth century.

To the left of the tilt-hammers, in the foreground, are a pair of large bench-shears, and above them, on a cooling-trough, just below the magpie, is a long-handled swage for stamping grooves and edgings on metal plates. Tongs, pincers, and hammers are found in many parts of the picture, and dies for stamping coins or medals are seen immediately below the bench-shears. Directly under the right foot of Vulcan is a tracing-wheel, similar to that shown on Jost Amman’s engraving of the “Compass Maker” in his Book of Trades. A small bench-vice lies near the lower margin of the picture under the figure of Cupid, and a hand-vice and repoussé hammer on the three-legged stool to the left. In the distance, over the figure of Venus, is the primitive contrivance for boring a cannon, the mould for casting which is seen close by in the floor. The most interesting detail is to be found in the machine which lies at the foot of the small anvil at Cupid’s right hand. This bears a strong resemblance to the modern burring-machine or “jenny,” used for turning up the edge of thin metal plates (Fig. 17).

The armour shown, with its strongly marked volutes and decoration,[37] is of a type very common in the Madrid and Turin armouries, some of which has been ascribed to Pompeo della Chiesa. We have no clue as to whose workshop this picture represents, but if taken from life, it must certainly have been that of some master like Bartolomeo Campi, who, besides being an armourer, was a bronze-founder and goldsmith as well (see Frontispiece).

[38]

There is but little information to be obtained regarding the actual materials used by the armourer. The chief source from which he drew his supplies seems to have been Innsbruck. Why this was so is not clear from the contemporary records, but we may be sure that the German metal was harder and better tempered than that of other countries, or there would not have been the demand for it that there evidently was. In the various entries in the State Papers Domestic we find specific mention of “Isebruk” iron, and the merits of this metal must have been appreciated even in Shakespeare’s time, for we have in Othello, v. 2, 253, “a sword of icebrook’s temper.” In the earliest editions of the play the word is “Isebrooke,” which is obviously the anglicized version of Innsbruck.[61]

Sheffield steel must have been appreciated as early as Chaucer’s time, for the Miller carries a “Sheffield thwyrtel” (knife), and in 1402 the arrows used at the battle of Homildon were pointed with Sheffield steel, so sharp that no armour could repel them.

It is possible that the German iron-smelters had discovered the properties of manganese, which hardens steel, and thus obtained a superior metal to that produced in other countries.

The discovery of steel was probably a fortuitous accident, due to the fact that the first smelting-works were fuelled with charcoal, which deoxidizes iron and turns some portion of the metal into natural steel. The Germans themselves realized the superiority of their material, for in 1511 Seusenhofer complained that his merchant was not giving him good metal, and advised that it should be classed as “Milanese,” so as not to lessen the fame of Innsbruck iron.

Till the seventeenth century English iron seems to have been largely used for domestic purposes, for we find on examining Professor Rogers’s Agriculture and Prices that German iron is never mentioned, but there[39] are frequent references to English and Spanish metal. The following prices from the above work show the fluctuations in prices of iron in England.

1436. Spanish iron, 24 lb., 1s. 6d., or about £14 the ton.
1462. Iron, 42 lb. at 5d., or £17 10s. the ton.
1562. Raw English iron, £12 10s. the ton.
Bilbow (Bilboa), £11 8s. the ton.
Spanish, £12 the ton.
1570. Iron gun-stocks, made up, £28 the ton.
1571. Steel bar, £10 the ton.
Bar steel, £37 4s. the ton.
1584. Spanish iron, £14 the ton. 50 bars to the ton, or about
45 lb. to the bar.
1622. Steel, £32 the ton.
1623. Spanish iron, £14 10s. to £15 10s.
1624. Iron bars of 24 lb. at £37 4s. the ton.

These prices vary so greatly that we must be sure that there was a great difference in the quality, and also in the state in which the metal is delivered. In some cases there must have been a great deal of preparation and finishing of the raw material to account for the high price paid.

In 1517 an entry in the State Papers Domestic, given on page 31, states that 2541 lb. of Isebroke steel cost £26 12s., which gives about £23 for the ton.

In the Sussex Archæological Journal, II, 200, Walter Burrel gives an account of Sussex ironworks in the seventeenth century. He states that when once the furnace was lit it was kept going sometimes for forty weeks, the period being reckoned in “foundays.” During each founday eight tons were made with twenty-four loads of charcoal. The metal was cast into “sows” weighing from 600 to 2000 lb. He states that “they melt off a piece of the sow about three quarters of a hundredweight and beat it with sledges near a fire so that it may not fall to pieces, treating it with water they thus bring it to a ‘bloom,’ a four square piece 2 ft. long.”[62] Modern bar-iron 1 in. by 1 in. by 12 in. weighs 3.4 lb. Therefore this bloom would approximately make a plate 33 sq. ft. by ¹/₁₆ in. thick.[63] Even with these data it is impossible to tell[40] the size of the plates delivered to the armourer; for the appliances in the Middle Ages were but crude, and it is doubtful if rolling-mills were used in the sixteenth century. From the picture by Breughel, given as the frontispiece, we know that tilt-hammers were in use, but these would hardly have been used to flatten plates of any great size.

It would appear that iron in some localities was tainted with some poison; for in a Géographie d’Edrisi quoted in Gay’s Encyclopædia, 699, reference is made to a mountain in Armenia where the iron ore is poisoned and which, when made into knives and swords, produced mortal wounds. It may have been that this was actually the case, but it is more probable that it was an invention of the owner of the mine designed to give his productions a fictitious value.

A few details of interest in connection with the manufacture of iron in England may be gathered from the Metallum Martis of Dud Dudley, a natural son of Edward, Lord Dudley. The treatise was printed in 1665 and refers to the author’s endeavours to interest the Crown in his project for smelting iron with sea-coal instead of wood or charcoal. In his address to the King (Charles II) and Council he prefaces his technical remarks as follows:—

“Our predecessors in former Ages had both serious Consultations and Considerations before they made these many Wholesome and Good Lawes for the preservation of Wood and Timber of this Kingdome. 1 Eliz. 15, 23 Eliz. 5, 27 Eliz. 19, 28 Eliz. 3, 5.... Therefore it concerns His Sacred Majesty, his high Court of Parliament ... to lay it to heart and helping hands upon fit occasions in these laudable Inventions of making Iron & melting of mines and refyning them with Pitcoal, Seacoal, Peat, and Turf; ... for maintenance of Navigation, men of War, the Fishing and Merchants trade, which is the greatest strength of Great Britain ... whose defence and offence next under God consists by his sacred Majestie’s assisting care and view of his men of War ... Ordinance of Copper, Brass and Iron, Armories, Steels, and Irons of all sorts.”

In his letter to the King he mentions Shippings, Stores, Armories, Ordnance, Magazines, and Trade. He mentions several counties as mining centres, but does not include Sussex or Shropshire. The first of these two was probably ruled out, as the industry there depended on the[41] use of wood, against which Dudley’s introduction of coal was levelled. We find Shropshire mentioned in the Trial of Armour given in the chapter on “Proof” (page 66).

Dudley seems to have formed a company in May, 1638, into which he took one Roger Foulke, “a Counsellor of the Temple and an ingenious man,” as partner.

Before this his father, Lord Dudley, had employed a certain Richard Parkes or Parkhouse to carry iron merchandise to the Tower, which James I ordered to be tested by his “Artists,” that is, of course, his armourers. Parkes made a sample fowling-piece of the new “Dudley Ore,” smelted from pit-coal, and signed his name in gold upon the barrel. The gun was taken from him by Colonel Levison and was never returned.

Dudley gives three qualities of iron: grey iron, the finest, and best suited for making bar-iron; motley iron, a medium quality; and white iron, the least refined.

It is curious that in all his calculations and specifications he never actually mentions the making of armour and but seldom the casting of ordnance.

In considering the weights of suits as given in Appendix J we find the following details. By the prices given 20 cwt. make one ton. The cwt. at the time of James I was 112 lb.

Now we are told that “Sixe hundred of iron will make five hundred of plates,” so we gather that in turning the pig-iron into plates one hundredweight was lost. The above entries give the following weights per suit or portion of a suit scheduled:—

Four “platers” will make up 3700 weight or 37 cwt. of plates in one week, therefore one plater will make up 9 cwt. 28 lb. in a week or 1 cwt. 57 lb. or thereabouts in one day.

For comparison with existing suits of which the weights are known we may use the following details:—

It should be noted that two of the items in the Appendix are described as of “proof” and one is described as “strong.” The lance-armours are not qualified in any way, but from their weight they must have been proof against musket or arquebus.

It is impossible to discover what size the “plates” were made before they were handed over to the armourers. The largest single plate in the Tower is a portion of the horse-armour of II, 5, known as the “Engraved Suit.” This piece measures 27½ in. at top and 28½ in. at bottom by 17 in. and 18½ in. high, or roughly speaking 28½ in. by 18½ in., about ¹/₁₆ in. thick, weighing about 6 lb. 4 oz. If the numbers given on page 41 represent plates and not hundredweights, each plate[43] ¹/₁₆ in. thick would be 6 in. by 11 in., and this is obviously absurd. It is more likely that, with the crude appliances in use, an ingot of metal was beaten out into such a plate as the weight of the ingot might give, larger or smaller as the case might be, and not standardized in any way. Dud Dudley writing in 1665 describes the methods of ironworkers before his introduction of sea-coal.

“They could make but one little lump or bloom of Iron in a day, not 100 weight and that not fusible, nor fined, or malliable, until it were long burned and wrought under hammers.”[65]

[44]

The actual craft-work of the armourer differed but little from that of the smith, but there are some details which the armourer had to consider which were not part of ordinary blacksmith’s work. There are no contemporary works of a technical nature, and our investigations can only be based on actual examination of suits, assisted by scattered extracts from authorities who mention the subject in military works. In 1649 J. Cramer printed a work, De Armorum Fabricatione, but it throws no light upon the subject and quotes from Roman authorities.

In the first place, the making of mail was a distinct craft which had no counterpart in other branches of smithing. At first the wire had to be beaten out from the solid, and thus the few fragments which remain to us of early mail show a rough, uneven ring of wire, clumsily fashioned and thicker than that of later dates. The invention of wire-drawing is generally ascribed to Rudolph of Nuremberg, about the middle of the fourteenth century,[66] but there were two corporations of wire-drawers in Paris in the thirteenth century mentioned in Étienne Boileau’s Livre des Métiers, written about 1260.

When the wire was obtained, either hammered out or drawn, it was probably twisted spirally round a rod of the diameter of the required ring. It was then cut off into rings, with the ends overlapping. The two ends were flattened and punched or bored with holes through the flat portion. A small rivet, and in some cases two, was then inserted, and this was burred over with a hammer or with punches (Fig. 15, 18; also Plate IV). It is possible that some kind of riveting-pincers were used, but no specimens of this kind of tool are known.[67] Sometimes the ends of the rings are welded, which would be done by heating them and hammering them together. Before the rings were joined up they were interlaced one with another, each ring passing through[45] four others. Occasionally, to obtain increased strength, two rings were used for every one of the ordinary mail, but representations of this double mail are rare. The terms “haubert doublier,” “haubert à maille double,” and “haubert clavey de double maille” are found in French inventories, and in the inventory of Louis X which has been quoted before we find “33 gorgieres doubles de Chambli, un pans et uns bras de roondes mailles, une couverture de mailles rondes demy cloies.” These different items suggest that there were various ways of making mail and of putting it together. The double mail has been noticed, and the mail “demy cloues” was probably mail in which the ends of the links were closed with only one rivet. The “maile roond” being specially scheduled points to the fact that sometimes mail was made of flat rings, but whether cut from the sheet of metal or merely of flattened wire it is impossible to say.

Where the covering of mail was not made in one piece—that is, when the shirt, leggings, sleeves, or coif were made to open—they were fastened by laces. The chausses, or leggings of mail, were often laced at the back of the leg, as is shown in the sketch-book of Wilars de Honecourt, thirteenth century, figured in Armour and Weapons (Plate I) by the present author. The coif of mail was generally kept close to the head by a thong round the temples (Fig. 23, 8), and was in some instances fastened in front with an overlapping flap and a lace (Fig. 20).

The Camail, or tippet of mail, which is the distinctive detail of the armour of the late fourteenth and early fifteenth century, was either hung from a flat plate of metal which was fitted over the vervelles or[46] staples on the bascinet and kept in place by a lace or a thick wire, or the mail itself was hung over the vervelles and the plate fitted over it and secured in the same way. This latter method appears to have been more commonly in use, to judge from sculptured effigies and brasses. A bascinet in the Ethnological Museum, Athens,[68] shows the vervelles, plate, and wire that secured it still in place, but the mail has all corroded and disappeared. A good restoration of the camail on a bascinet with a leather band instead of a flat plate is to be found in the Wallace Collection (No. 74).

In the thirteenth century we find one of the most unpractical of all the armourer’s contrivances in the nasal flap-hinged or laced to the camail, hanging down over the chin when not in use, and fastened, when required, to the bascinet by a pin or hook. The nasal of the eleventh century, figured on the Bayeux Tapestry and elsewhere, was practical because it provided a defence for the nose and face which was as rigid as the helmet itself; but this later nasal could only protect the wearer from the actual cutting of the skin, for the full force of the blows would be felt almost as much as if there were no defence at all. These nasals are figured so frequently in Hewitt, Hefner, and elsewhere that no special illustration is necessary in the present work.

A variety of mail which, from the sculptured effigies and from miniatures of the thirteenth century, appears to have been in high favour, has come to be known as “Banded Mail.”

In both painted and sculptured records the methods of representation differ considerably from those employed to suggest the ordinary mail of interlaced rings.

In the middle of the last century, when the subject of armour began to be seriously studied, this banded mail was the subject of many theories and suggestions. Meyrick considered that it was composed of rings sewn on to a fabric, overlapping each other sideways; but a practical experiment will prove that such an arrangement would be impossible, as the weight would be excessive and the curve of the body would cause the rings to “gape.” Other writers have considered that the same arrangement of rings, covered with leather which would prevent the “gaping,” is the correct solution; but here again the heat would be a grave drawback.[69]

[47]

[48]

An important point on all representations of banded mail is that, when part of the garment is shown turned back, the back is the same as the front. The most practical suggestion was put forward by the late J. G. Waller,[70] who considered that it was simply chain mail with leather thongs threaded through every row or every alternate row of links. This would give a solidity to an otherwise too-pliant fabric, and would keep the mail in its place, especially on the arms and legs. It would also show the same arrangement of rings back and front.

The drawing from the Romance of Alexander goes far to prove that Waller’s theory is the right one, for here the thongs are not shown on hands and head, where greater pliability of the mail was required, and yet these defences appear to be part of the same garment which shows the “banded” lines.

It is almost superfluous to add that no specimen of this kind of defence survives to-day, but Oriental mail is sometimes found stiffened in this manner with leather thongs.

The wearing of mail survived longer than is generally supposed. Holinshed, writing in 1586 (page 90 of the present work), mentions shirts of mail as part of the ordinary equipment of the foot-soldier. On Plate 8 of Derricke’s Image of Ireland the mounted officer wears mail sleeves, and in an inventory of Hengrave Hall, Suffolk, taken in 1603, we find gorgets and shirts of mail, and barrels for cleaning the same. Edward Davies, writing in 1619 (The Art of Warre), distinctly states that the arquebussiers wore a shirt of mail (see page 115).

[49]

The Brigandine and splinted armour were made by riveting small plates or horizontal lames on to a fabric foundation. In the former the fabric was outside, and rich ornamentation was obtained by the gilt rivet-heads which held the plates to the outer covering (see page 150). In the latter case the metal was on the outside and was riveted on to a foundation of linen. In some cases the rows of small plates are divided by strips of fine mail. There was no particular craft needed in making the brigandine, but the metal used was often of proof and was marked with the maker’s name to attest it.

As may be seen on Plate XI and Fig. 36, the small plates of the brigandine are wider at the top than at the bottom, and overlap upwards. The reason for this is that the human torse is narrower at the waist than at the chest, and the plates could not overlap each other and yet conform to the lines of the figure if they overlapped downwards.

Although lighter and more pliable defences than the cuirass, the brigandine and jack were very effectual for protection against arrows, for we find, according to Walsingham,[71] that the rioters under Wat Tyler shot at a jack belonging to the Duke of Lancaster, but were unable to damage it, and eventually cut it to pieces with swords and axes.

The jack or canvas coat of Sir John Willoughby, temp. Elizabeth, now at Woolaton Hall, is formed of stout canvas inside and out stuffed with two layers of tow with horn discs in between. The whole is kept together by a series of lacings which appear on the outside as lines and triangles of the same kind as those shown on Fig. 25. It is composed of six panels, two for the breast, two for the back, and two small ones for the shoulders. A portrait of Willoughby in the Painted Gallery at Greenwich shows such a jack with red cords. The jack was generally lined with metal plates and examples of this may be seen in the Tower (III, 335, 336). These are also made up of six panels and weigh about 17 lb. each. They are composed of about[50] 1164 metal plates[72] (Fig. 25). In the Shuttleworth accounts published by the Chetham Society are to be found entries of 9¼ yards of linen to make a “steel coat,” a pound of slape or pitch, two dozen points or laces for two coats, and 1650 steel plates. The cost of the coat, inclusive of making, would come to about £1. A cap, constructed in the same manner of small plates, is shown in the Burges Collection at the British Museum and is figured in the Guide to the Mediæval Room on page 62.

The brigandine was sometimes reinforced with large placcates of steel, one on each breast, riveted to the fabric which composed the whole defence. An example of this nature exists in the Waffensammlung at Vienna, and there are also several of these reinforcing plates, the brigandines of which have perished, in the Ethnological Museum at Athens (Fig. 26). These latter were found in the castle of Chalcis, which was taken by the Turks from the Venetians in 1470, so they can be dated with accuracy.[73] On one of the plates is a mark which strongly resembles the mark of Antonio Missaglia (see Plates XI, XVI). These brigandines with solid breast-pieces are described in Appendix D, page 177. Both these plates and the example at Vienna are fitted with lance-rests which seem to be eminently unpractical, as the garment is more or less pliant and would not be of much use in sustaining the weight of a lance. The most curious of these reinforcing plates is to be found in the picture of S. Victor by Van der Goes, circ. 1450, which is now in the Municipal Gallery at Glasgow. Here the uppermost part of the torse is protected by strong plates of steel, but the abdomen is only covered by the brigandine (Fig. 27). As an example of this fashion of armour and as[51] a most careful representation of detail this picture is as valuable as it is unique. Splinted armour is practically the brigandine without a covering, but made usually of stronger plates or lames. The fact that the body was covered by a series of small plates ensured greater freedom and ease in movement than was possible with solid breast and back plates. The monument in Ash Church and the statue of S. George at Prague are good examples of the splinted armour of the fourteenth century (Figs. 28, 29).

That the skill of the sixteenth-century armourer surpassed that of the present-day craftsman is evident after careful examination of some of the triple-combed Burgonets and Morions of the middle of the century. They are often found forged in one piece with no sign of join or welding, and what is more remarkable still, there is but little difference in the thickness of the metal all over the piece. Now, when a smith hollows out a plate of metal into a bowl-like form, the edges are generally thicker than the inside of the bowl; but in many of these head-pieces the metal is almost of equal thickness all over, a tour de force which few metal-workers to-day could imitate.[74] This thinning of the metal was utilized to a great extent in the different portions of the suit which were not exposed to attack. As will be found in the chapter[52] on “Proof,” the back-plates were generally thinner than the breasts. In jousting-helms the top of the skull, which, from the position of the rider when jousting, was most exposed to the lance, was generally much thicker than the back of the helm, where there was no chance of attack.

Again, the left side of both jousting and war harness is frequently thicker than the right, for it was here that the attack of both lance and sword was directed. Up to the middle of the fifteenth century the shield, hung on the left arm, was used as an extra protection for this the more vulnerable side of the man-at-arms, but it seriously interfered with the management of the horse. By the sixteenth century it was discarded and the armour itself made stronger on the left side both by increased thickness and also by reinforcing pieces such as the Grandgarde, the Passgarde, and the Manteau d’armes.

Perhaps the most ingenious contrivance used in making the suit of armour is the sliding rivet (Fig. 30). This contrivance has come to be called the “Almain rivet” in modern catalogues in a sense never found in contemporary documents. In these documents the “Almain rivet” is a light half-suit of German origin, made up of breast, back, and tassets, with sometimes arm-pieces. The word “rivet” was employed in the sixteenth century for a suit of armour, for Hall uses the word frequently in his Chronicles. This word is therefore more probably derived from the same root as the French revêtir, rather than from the rivets which were used in the making of the suit. Up to the sixteenth century the rivet as we know it to-day is always called an “arming-nail,” and it is only in the middle of the sixteenth century that we find the word rivet used as part of the armourer’s stock-in-trade. These light suits were put together with sliding rivets, which have at the present day received the name originally given to the whole suit. The head of the rivet is burred over and fixed in the upper plate, but the lower plate is slotted for about three-quarters of an inch, so that it will play up and down on the shank[53] of the rivet and give more freedom of action than the fixed rivet; at the same time it will not allow the two plates to slide so far apart as will uncover the limb or body of the wearer. These sliding rivets were used to join the upper and lower portions of the breastplate which was in fashion in the last years of the fifteenth century, so as to allow a certain amount of movement for the torse backwards and forwards. They were also employed to join the taces, which needed a certain amount of play when mounting a horse or when sitting. When the “lobster-tail” cuisse superseded the taces and tassets in the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries they were used instead of the fixed rivets for joining the lames of the cuisse.

The most ingenious arrangement of sliding rivets, however, is to be found on the brassards of the late fifteenth to the seventeenth century. As has been noticed on page 6, the armourer had to consider in this case both the defensive needs of his patron and also the necessity for using his arm as conveniently as was consistent with safety.

Now the only actions needed for the right arm are those of holding the lance in rest and of striking with the sword. The arm-defence therefore had to be so constructed that the arm could be bent for the former and raised for the latter. To do this the lames of the rerebrace are joined with sliding rivets at the hinder corners, but at the front corners they are joined with a strap fastened vertically to the top plate of the brassart and riveted, when extended straight, to each lame.

This allows play for the lames in the two above-mentioned positions, but when the arm is dropped, after the blow has been delivered, the lames automatically close one over the other and completely protect the arm and allow no backward movement.

The same arrangement is found on the laminated cuisses and tassets, in which the inner edges of the lames are joined by a strap and the outer by sliding rivets. This combination of sliding rivet and strap is shown on Fig. 7 and on Plate IX.

Another ingenious arrangement on the brassard is the turned-over edge or the embossed rim fitting in a collar, both of which allow the lower part of the rerebrace to turn horizontally to adapt it to the outward action of the hand and arm. In most suits the bossings of the rims are outside, but on the “Engraved Suit” (II, 5) in the Tower they[54] are inside. The former gives a smooth surface to the wearer’s arm and the latter presents a smooth surface to the opposing weapon (Fig. 31).

A similar rim and collar are found on close helmets and gorgets of the sixteenth century (Plate XIII). Meyrick,[75] misreading Fauchet’s[76] reference to the burgonet, considered this helmet with a lower edge fitting into the gorget to be the burgonet, but he brought no real evidence to support his assertion. Although the helmet and gorget fitted one over the other and therefore surmounted one of the chief dangers in war or joust, when the lance might penetrate the space between these two portions of the suit, it will be seen on examination of any suit of this kind that from the oblique position of the gorget the embossed rim of the helmet could not possibly turn in the hollowed rim of the gorget, so that it can only be considered as a defensive improvement which in no way added to the convenience in use, if anything it rather hampered the wearer, as he could only turn his head inside the helmet and that to no great extent. In some late suits a pin fixed at the back of the gorget comes through a hole in the lower edge of the helmet and prevents any possible movement.

It is almost superfluous to mention the straps which join the various portions of the suit. These are always placed, where possible, in positions where they are protected from injury; as, for example, on the jambs they are on the inside of the leg, next to the horse when the wearer is mounted, and the hinge of the jamb being of metal is on[55] the outside. In some cases the end of the strap after being buckled fits into a “shoe” bossed out of the armour plate (Fig. 33).

It is practically impossible to notice the various forms of turning or locking pins used for joining parts of a suit. The general principle is that of a turning rivet with a flat, fan, or hook shaped head which, fitting into an oblong slot in the upper plate, can be turned at right angles to hold the two plates together. There are many varieties of this fastening, based upon the same principle, but those existing at the present day are often modern restorations. In suits for the joust or tourney these adjustable fastenings could not always be depended upon, and the great helm, the manteau d’armes, and the passgarde were often screwed on to the suit with square or polygonal headed bolts tightened with a spanner.

The gauntlet was sometimes capable of being locked, for the unfingered flap which covered the fingers was prolonged so as to reach the wrist, where it fastened over a pin. This was used in foot jousts to prevent the weapon from being struck out of the hand and is sometimes called the “forbidden gauntlet,” an absurd term when we consider that many fine suits are provided with this appliance, which would not be the case if its use were not allowed (Fig. 32, also Plate XXII).

A few of the fastenings used to hold the different parts of the suit together are shown on Fig. 33. The[56] hook (No. 1) is found on the armets made by Topf (page 21 and Plate XIII). Here the hook A is shown in position fastening the visor over a button D. When it is necessary to open the visor a leather thong which was attached at C is pulled and at the same time the button F is pressed. This depresses a spring riveted to the visor at G and projecting with a small tongue at E. The depression of E allows the hook to be moved back and the visor to be raised. When the hook is moved forward to close the visor the tongue E springs up and locks the whole firmly. No. 2 of the same figure is another contrivance for locking plates together, and is found on 695, Wallace Collection, and elsewhere. C C C is the section of the armour plate. The hook is pivoted at C and is fitted with a spring at D. When the leather lace at A is pulled the tongue of the hook B is brought back flush with the plate C and allows the visor to be raised. When the visor is closed the hook springs back to its position and locks the plates together. No. 3 is a catch of the same kind, but is worked by a spring of the same kind as that which locks the “Topf” hook. The pressing of the button A sets back the hook B, which is riveted to the plate at D. No. 4 is a “spring pin,” or “federzapfen” as they are called in German and “auberon” in French. The small flange let into the pin is kept pressed outwards by a spring and is pressed back to slip the pauldron, in which is a hole cut for the purpose, over the pin. No. 5 shows a series of turning pins which are riveted to the lower plate in taces, cuisses, tassets, etc., but can be turned at will. The upper plates that are fastened by these pins are pierced with narrow oblong slits through which the flat head of the pin can be passed; a turn at right angles locks the two plates closely. No. 6 is an ingenious contrivance found on 1086, Wallace Collection. The armour plate is bossed upwards to form a covering for the free end of the strap when buckled, to prevent the chance of this loose piece of leather being cut off or of hindering the wearer in any way.

On Fig. 34 is shown the support for the jousting-sallad, without which it was always liable to be struck off. It is screwed with wing nuts to the crest of the sallad and to the back of the cuirass. The reinforcing piece for face and breast of the same nature as the mentonnière and grand-guard. These various methods of fastening plates[57] together can be only studied to advantage by careful examination of actual suits, and even here there is always the chance that they may be modern restorations. Perhaps the most elaborately contrived suit in existence is that made for Henry VIII for fighting on foot in the lists (Tower, II, 28). This covers the wearer completely with lames back and front, and allows as much movement as is possible in a suit weighing 93 lb. (Plate VIII). It is composed of 235 separate pieces, all of different form. There are similar suits in the Musée d’Artillerie, Paris (G, 178, 179) of a more ornate character. The cuisse of one of these suits is shown on Plate XI and the inside of the cuisse of the Tower suit on Plate IX. While dealing with this question of the pieces that compose a suit, it should be noted that the “Leicester” suit in the Tower (II, 10) is made up of 194 pieces, and a suit at Madrid (A, 164, the “Muhlberg” suit of Charles V) requires one mounted and six unmounted figures to show it off completely.

THE MAKING OF ARMOUR IN ENGLAND, FROM CONTEMPORARY DOCUMENTS

There are no details relating to the lives of any of the known English armourers that are worth recording. Pickering, the pupil of Topf, was the most celebrated, and the record of his position of Master of the Armourers’ Company will be found under that heading. John Blewbery, whose name occurs in several entries in the Letters and Papers Foreign and Domestic, seems to have been merely the master-workman, and we have no evidence that he attained to a higher position. His name does not appear in the existing records of the Armourers’ Company. Asamus or Erasmus Kyrkenor first appears in a list of payments in 1518.[61] He was employed to make candlesticks and for “garnishing books” with clasps, etc., in 1529, when presumably there was a slack time in the armouries. There are further entries of this nature in 1530, 1531, and 1532, in which year he “garnished” eighty-six books. In 1538 he was made Brigandarius to the King, vice John Gurre, deceased; but we find no details as to the duties of this office, which was continued to the reign of Charles I, when it became the subject of a complaint from Roger Falknor (Appendix J). In 1547 we find Erasmus in charge of the Greenwich Armoury, and in 1593 a note of the will of Wm. and Robt. Mighill states that they were the grandsons of Erasmus Kirkenor, deceased.

A list of English armourers is given on page 126.

[62]

As soon as the armed man realized that iron and steel were the best defences for his body, he would naturally insist that some sort of a guarantee should be given him of the efficacy of the goods supplied by his armourer. This system of proving armour would be effected by using those weapons most commonly in use, and these, in the early times, were the sword, the axe, the lance, the bow, and the crossbow. The latter seems to have been the more common form of proof, though as late as the seventeenth century we have evidence that armour was proved with the “estramaçon” or sword blow.[77]

In considering the proof of mail we are met with certain terms which are somewhat difficult of explanation, but which evidently are intended to convey the fact that the mail mentioned was of especially good quality. These terms are “haute cloueur,” “demi-cloueur,” “botte cassée,” and “botte.”

M. Charles Buttin,[78] in his studies on the arms used for proving armour, considers that “botte” is here used to denote a blow in the sense that it is used in fencing for a thrust or a lunge (It. botta). The word “cassée” he takes to be derived also from the Italian “casso,” vain or empty.

The term “haute” or “demi-cloueurs” seems rather to suggest the single or double riveting of each link of mail. Ordinary mail is either welded or joined with one rivet, but in some cases, as in III, 339, Tower, two rivets are used to obtain increased strength for the fabric (see also page 44).

Mail seems to have been proof against arrows at a very early period, for we find in the Chronicon Colmariense, under the year 1398, the statement that the men-at-arms wore “camisiam ferream, ex circulis ferreis contextam, per quae nulla sagitta arcus poterat hominem vulnerare.” The earliest entry of this mail of proof is found in the Inventory[63] of Louis X (le Hutin) of France, which is here given together with other entries of the different expressions used with regard to proof of this nature.

In this entry there is evidently a variety of mail which is even stronger than that of “haute cloueur,” but this may possibly be of stouter or better-tempered metal. The horse-armour would not need to be of such high proof as that of the man, because from its form it would be more or less in folds when the horse was in action and would therefore present double thicknesses to the weapon. An illustration of the mail-clad horse is given in the present writer’s Armour and Weapons, and also in Monumenta Vetusta, Vol. VI.

This expression “de toute botte” suggests that the armour was proof against all blows, that is from the sword, the axe—the “estramaçon” above alluded to—and also against the bow and the crossbow. In 1612 Sturtevant in his Metallica writes on page 62 that the ironworker should “make things stronger than the Exact strength which the thing is to have,” and we find this borne out in an extract from the Armerie di Roma, Arch. Stat. c. 150, of the date 1627, which mentions old armour “a botta” which had been proved with “due e tre colpi dell’ arma alla quale dovevano resistere.”[80]

The proof by the crossbow is mentioned by Angellucci in a note, quoting from the Arch. Gonz. Copialett., T. II, c. 65: “et si te manderemo doi veretoni di nostri saldi, como i quali tu farai aprovare la ditta coraza corno uno bono balestro di cidello.”[80] The last-mentioned weapon is the “arbalest à tour” or windlass crossbow. It would seem from M. Buttin’s researches that the armour “à toute épreuve” was proved by[64] crossbow and sword, and that “à demi épreuve” by the smaller lever crossbow or by the javelin thrown by hand. These varieties of proof were indicated by the marks stamped upon them, one mark for the single and two for the double (see page 65). In some documents we have definite entries of arrows used for proof, which would naturally have exceptionally well-tempered points:—

The “vireton” was a crossbow-bolt which had spiral wings of metal or wood so fitted that it revolved in its course.

Here the “feathering” of the arrow with copper is specified, for it was this metal wing which, acting like the propeller of a boat, caused the arrow to revolve with increased velocity.

These arrows of proof cost double the price of ordinary arrows, for we have entries of such projectiles in the year 1419 costing 8s. the dozen, while the ordinary quality cost but 4s. the dozen.[81]

Details of the regulations of setting proof marks upon armour will be found in Appendices B, E, K.

The proving of brigandines was most carefully carried out, for in some instances every separate plate was stamped with the proof mark. In the Paris Collection double proof marks are found on the brigandine G, 206, and a similar double mark appears stamped on the Missaglia suit G, 3, but of a different design. The helmet of Henry VIII on II, 29 (Tower) also bears the double proof mark of one of the Missaglia family (Plate X). It would be tedious and unnecessary to give a list of those armours which bear these proof marks, for they are to be found in every armoury of note in Europe; but it will be of some profit to quote various extracts showing the reason and the effects of proofs or trials of armour.

In the sixteenth century the firearm had become a serious factor in warfare, therefore the proof was decided by submitting the armour to pistol or musket shot.

[65]

The “arbaleste à tilloles” was the large bow bent with a windlass, the “arbaleste à crocq” was smaller and was bent with a hook fastened to the waist of the archer (see Payne Gallwey, The Crossbow).

The above writer considers, and with reason, that when the uncertainty of firearms was taken into consideration defensive armour was of much practical use; and this theory was held as late as the eighteenth century, for Marshal Saxe in his Les Rêveries[82] warmly recommends the use of defensive armour, especially for cavalry, as he considers that a large proportion of wounds were caused by sword, lance, or spent bullets. It was evidently from reasons such as the above that a reliable proof by pistol or musket shot was insisted upon, for the armour of the Duc de Guise in the Musée d’Artillerie (G, 80) is of great thickness and weighs 42 kilos. It has either been tested by the maker or has seen service, for there are three bullet marks on the breastplate, neither of which has penetrated.[83]

[66]

The terms “high proof,” “caliver proof,” and “musket proof” often occur in writings of this period and onwards up to the time when armour was discarded; but it is difficult to get any definite information as to how the proof was made. In the above entry there are two kinds of proof, which show that the back-plate was thinner than the breastplate, the resisting power being obtained not only by temper of metal, but also by its thickness.

Here is evidently a necessary definition of each piece. Probably on some former occasion the armourer had classed the whole suit as of proof when such a description might only be honestly given to the cuirass. Accounts of actual trials are rare, but the following extract is of interest as showing the methods employed in England. It is given in full, with many valuable extracts bearing on the craft of the armourer, by Viscount Dillon, in Archæologia, Vol. LI. The extract is taken from a letter from Sir Henry Lee, Master of the Armoury in 1580, to Lord Burghley, and bears the date Oct. 12, 1590.

The first part of the letter states that a gentleman of Shropshire was anxious that the metal mined in his county should be used for armour instead of the German iron which at this time was considered to be the best in the market. Sir Henry writes: “To give the more credyte to that stuffe to the armourers of London and to Jacobi the Mr. workman of Grenewhyche, the Counsell apoynt in there presence that Sr. Robarte Constable and my cossyn John Lee shoulde see a proofe made wh. by tryall proved most usefull.” The “Shropshire gentleman” sent Sir Henry “a new brest beyng sent owt of the country of gret litenes and strengthe as he was made beleve,” and entrusted him to “cause another of the very same wayght to be made in her Matys office of Greenwhyche, wh. I presently performed.” Pistols were then loaded with equal charges and fired at the two breastplates, with the result that “that made in the[67] Offyce and of the metall of Houngere[84] helde out and more than a littel dent of the pellet nothinge perced, the other clene shotte thereowe and much tare the overpart of a beme the brest studde upon as longe as my fyngeers. Thus muche for the Ynglyshe metall.”

From time to time, as has been noticed before, there had been efforts to wrest the monopoly of the supply of metal for armour from the foreigner, but here was a very tangible proof of the superiority of the alien material. It is true that the Shropshire breastplate appears to have been sent from that county for the test, while the foreign metal was made up by the highly skilled workmen in the Royal Armoury at Greenwich under the eye of Jacobi (Topf), a master-craftsman who can have had but few rivals at that time. Possibly he may have possessed some secrets of tempering and hardening his metal which were unknown to less experienced smiths, and so have obtained the award of superiority for the metal of his own country. Topf had migrated to England from Innsbruck and must certainly have had friends among the iron-merchants of that locality. So his interests were obviously on the side of the foreign metal.

It may be only romance or it may be fact, but certainly Oliver de la Marche,[85] writing about the year 1450, describes some such process of tempering armour after it was made. “Boniface avoit trempe son harnois d’une eau qui le tenoit si bon que fer ne povoit prendre sus.” It is not to be suggested that it was a special kind of water that was used for this, but rather that it was some method of heating and cooling the metal which was employed. Angellucci, in the Catalogue of the Armeria Reale, Turin (p. 129), quotes, from documents of the sixteenth century, the account of a breastplate made by Colombo, an armourer of Brescia, being spoiled because he had used excessive charges for his pistol or musket.

The last detail shows that the back-pieces were much lighter than the proof breastplates, and this is borne out by other similar entries during the century. Evidently the efficacy of the musket had increased in the first[68] years of the seventeenth century and with it the weight of the proved armour. In later entries we find that pistol proof is of more frequent occurrence, and from this we may gather that the weight of metal was a serious hindrance to the soldier and that he preferred the risk of a bullet.

Still there are cases to be found of complete proof, for in 1605 even the brayette was of proof (Arch. Gov. Brescia Privil., R. 7, V, p. 10),[86] and if this small, in fact the smallest, portion of the armour was proved, we may be sure that the whole suit was tested equally.

In 1628–9 we learn from the State Papers Domestic, lxxxix, 23, that one Whetstone had a project for making light armour as good as proof, but there are no details of his methods. It is quite probable, in most cases, that when one piece of the armour was proved the rest were made of similar material and tempered in the same way, and that actual proof was not expected or given. An interesting extract from the Memorials of the Verney Family, IV, 30, gives us some information as regards the proof of armour:—

This rough-and-ready method of estimating the charge is borne out in Gaya’s Traité des Armes, p. 30 (Reprint 1911, Clarendon Press).

The Verney extract goes on to say that Verney wished to have the armour tested again, but the armourer refused, for by this time it was finished, and he said that “it is not the custom of workmen to try their armour after it is faced and filed.”

This suit cost £14 2s. 8d., and when it was delivered Verney was by no means pleased, as it did not fit.[87] A clear proof that armour was tested before it was finished is to be found on the suit made by Garbagnus of Brescia for Louis XIV of France, now in the Musée d’Artillerie (G, 125). M. Buttin[88] in noticing this suit describes it as “La magnifique armure offerte à Louis XLV par la République de Venise,” but in this we must certainly hold a different opinion, for the production, although elaborately engraved, is perhaps the best example of the decadence of the craft of the armourer, so graceless and clumsy are its lines[69] and proportions. The proof mark is upon the left of the breastplate, at the point where the lower edge of the pauldron ends. It has been made the centre of a double-petalled rose, showing plainly that the bullet mark was there before the engraver began his work. A similar mark at the back is made the centre of a flower (Fig. 35). The document relating to the “proof mark” of the Armourers’ Company of London will be found in Appendix K.

Gaya in his Traité des Armes, 1678, referred to above, states on page 53 that the casque and front of the cuirass should be of musket proof, but the other parts need only be of pistol or carbine proof. In speaking of head-pieces he states, on the same page, that the heavier kinds were proved with musket-shot, but the light varieties were only[70] tested with “estramaçon” or sword-cut; and he adds that for armour to be good it must be beaten and worked cold and not hot.

We have seen how armour was proved and how the proof mark of crossbow-bolt or bullet is often found as a witness to the fact. In addition to this we frequently find the mark or poinçon of the armourer, which invariably means that the piece is of good workmanship and worthy of notice.

Like all the other craft gilds, that of the armourer was very jealous of the reputation of its members. The tapestry weavers of Flanders were obliged to mark, in some cases, every yard of their production; and so in fine suits of armour we find many of the individual pieces that go to make up the suit stamped with the maker’s mark and also with the stamp of the town. These town stamps are mostly found in German work from Nuremberg, Augsburg, etc. We find the name Arbois used on some Burgundian armour, but never are the names of Italian or French towns stamped. With the sword this rule does not hold good, for the Spanish, Italian, and German makers frequently used the town of origin as a mark in addition to their own. Toledo, Passau, Ferara, Solingen are all found upon swords, and are very often stamped upon blades of an entirely different nationality. This forgery of the stamp may have been perpetrated with the intent to defraud, or it may simply have been used as a mark of excellence, like “Paris fashions” or “Sheffield steel” at the present day. The forgery of marks on suits of armour is very seldom met with and where it exists it is obviously done for ulterior reasons.

The stamps take the form of signs such as the trefoil of Treytz, the monogram such as the “M Y” of the Missaglias, and the crowned “A” of the Armourers’ Company of London; the rebus, as for example the helm used by the Colman (Helmschmied) family, or a combination of two or more of the above variety.

About the year 1390 we have the following entry:—

This shows that in some cases every link of mail was stamped with the armourer’s mark. In Oriental mail letters and sometimes words[71] from the Koran are stamped on each link, but we have no examples extant of European mail stamped with the maker’s mark on each link.

On May 11, 1513, Richard Thyrkyll writes to Henry VIII from Antwerp saying that he can find no “harness of the fleur de lys” in any part of Brabant (Brit. Mus. Galba, B, III, 85).

This probably refers to a trade-mark or poinçon well known as denoting metal of high temper. A brigandine in the Museum at Darmstadt bears this mark repeated twice on each plate, showing that it was proof against the large crossbow (Fig. 36). Demmin (Guide des Amateurs d’Armes) gives a mark of a lion rampant as stamped on the plates of a brigandine in his collection, and an example in the Musée d’Artillerie has the Nuremberg mark on each of the plates.

In the case of mail a small label is sometimes found, riveted on to the fabric, on which is the maker’s stamp; an example of this is the eagle which is stamped on a label attached to the mail skirt G, 86, in the Armeria Reale, Turin (see Table of Marks, 59). In brigandines we sometimes find each of the small plates stamped with the maker’s mark, which is held to be evidence of “proof.”

As we have seen from the entry under the date 1448, on page 65, the single stamp signified proof against the small crossbow and the double stamp proof against the heavy windlass-bow.

As has been noticed above, the forgery or imitation of marks is more common on sword-blades than on defensive armour, and of these the wolf, dog, or fox of Passau is most frequently imitated. In some instances the representation is more or less life-like, but in others there is simply a crude arrangement of straight lines that suggest the head, legs, body, and tail of the animal.

Stamping of armour was practised early in the middle of the fourteenth century, as will be seen in the Regulations of the Company of Heaumers transcribed in Appendix B.

In Rymer’s Fœdera (XIX, p. 312) we find accounts for repairing and remodelling armour in the year 1631, and at the end of the list comes the entry “For stamping every harness fit to be allowed[72] £ 0 0 0”, which shows that even armour that was remade from old material was subjected to tests, and also that these tests were recorded by a gratuitous stamp of the craftsman or of the company to which he belonged.

The only entry extant which actually refers to the making of these stamps for armourers is given in the Mem. de la Soc. Arch. de Touraine, T. XX, pp. 268–9 (Arch. de Tours, Grandmaison).

The number of armourers’ marks known at present amounts to several hundred, but of the majority nothing is known as to ownership and history. A few of the principal marks in English and Continental collections are given on page 148.

[73]

From the earliest times defensive armour has been more or less decorated and ornamented with more or less elaborate detail as the armourer became skilled in his craft and as the patron indulged in vanity or caprice. Perhaps the most astonishing work in this direction is the shoulder-piece of a cuirass known as the Siris bronze in the British Museum, which is of such elaborate repoussé work that it is difficult to see how the tool can have been used from the back. It is not, however, the intention of this work to deal with Greek or Roman armour, or indeed with armour previous to the eleventh century; otherwise its limits would have to be considerably enlarged. The ornamentation of early armour, the employment of brass or latten rings, which formed patterns on the hauberk, called for no special skill on the part of the craftsman, and it is only when we come to the thirteenth century that we find traces of actual decoration on the pieces of plate which composed the suit.

And here it should be remembered that the axiom of suitability was, in later years, forgotten, and the ever-important “glancing surface” was destroyed by designs in high relief, which not only retained the full shock of the opposing weapon, but also hindered the free movement of the several plates one over the other. The word “decoration” in itself suggests a “decorous” or suitable adornment, and this suitability was not always considered by the sixteenth and seventeenth century armourers.

The use of jewels was always favoured among the nobility, and we find in the inventory of the effects of Piers Gaveston[90] plates ornamented with gold and silver and ailettes “frettez de perles.” In 1352 King John of France and the Dauphin had elaborate head-pieces ornamented with jewels, and in 1385 the King of Castile wore a helmet at the battle of Aljubertota which was enriched with gold and valued at 20,000 francs.[91]

[74]

The well-known brass of Sir John d’Aubernon, 1277, shows the first traces of the actual ornamentation of armour, which culminated in the work of Piccinino and Peffenhauser in the sixteenth century. Similar ornamentation is found on the brass of Sir Robert de Bures, 1302 (Fig. 37). It is possible that the poleynes shown on this brass and also the beinbergs on the figure of Guigliemo Berardi in the Cloisters of the Annunziata at Florence (Fig. 38) were made of cuir-bouilli and not metal, for there is not much incised or engraved iron found in domestic objects of this period (Fig. 37). But when we reach the end of the century we find a richly decorated suit of complete plate shown on the brass of an unknown knight of about the year 1400 which in no way suggests any material but iron or steel (Fig. 39).

This engraving of armour, either by the burin or by etching with acid, was employed with more or less intricacy of detail from the beginning of the fifteenth century up to the period when armour was discarded; for the suits of Charles I (Tower, II, 19) and of Louis XIV of France (Musée d’Artillerie, G, 125) are almost entirely covered with fine engraving. The tradition is well known that the art of engraving and printing the results on paper was discovered by the Florentine metal-workers of the fifteenth century, who employed this expedient for proving their ornamental work upon various metals. In some cases the engraving of armour was merely the first process of the niello-work, in which the lines and spaces cut out were filled in with a black compound. Neither the engraving alone nor the niello-work in any way interfered with the utility of the armour, for the surface was still capable of a high polish and would still deflect the weapon. No better example of this could be found than the “Engraved Suit” made for Henry VIII by Conrad Seusenhofer (Tower, II, 5). Here the entire surface is covered with fine engraving of scenes from the lives of SS. George and Barbara, and of decorative designs of the royal badges—the[75] Rose, the Portcullis, and the Pomegranate. Originally the whole suit was washed with silver, of which traces remain, but there was no attempt to destroy the utility of the armour. Indeed, it would have been a daring armourer who would have essayed such decoration when making a suit which was to be a present from Maximilian to Henry VIII, both of whom were among the most practised jousters in Europe (Plate XII). It was only when work in high relief was produced that this utility was destroyed. While condemning the neglect of true craft principles in this respect, we cannot but give our unstinted admiration for the skill in which this embossed armour was produced. The Negrolis, the Colmans, Campi, Lucio Piccinino, Peffenhauser, and Knopf were all masters of this form of applied art; but the admiration which their work compels is that which we have for the work of a gold or silver smith, and not for that of the armourer. In some cases, it is true, there is some definite idea in the craftsman’s mind of a subject, as for example the parade suit of Christian II (Johanneum, Dresden, E, 7), in which the artist, who is generally considered to have been Heinrich Knopf, embossed scenes from the labours of Hercules on the horse-armour. As a rule, however, the ornamentation is merely fantastic and meaningless, and consists for the most part of arabesques, masks, and amorini based upon classical models of the worst period and style. For sheer incoherence of design, and at the same time for technique which could hardly be surpassed, we have no better example in any of the applied arts than the parade suit made for King Sebastian of Portugal by Anton Peffenhauser of Augsburg in the second half of the sixteenth century (Real Armeria, Madrid, A, 290). Here we have tritons, nereids, dolphins and sea-horses, combats of classical warriors, elephants, allegorical figures of Justice, Strength, and Victory,[76] gods, goddesses, heroes, virtues, and symbolic figures spread broadcast among a wealth of arabesques and foliation which leaves the beholder breathless at the thought that this was simply produced for parade purposes, when but little of the detail could be seen and none of it could be adequately studied or admired. In fact the whole equipment may be described in a sentence originally used in far different circumstances: “C’est magnifique, mais ce n’est pas la guerre” (Plate XIV).

Much of this embossed work was blackened or oxidized so that the full value of the relief-work could be appreciated. Gilding and gold inlay were also in high favour, but the latter art never reached the high pitch of excellence which we find in Oriental weapons, though the arrogant Cellini asserted that he could damascene swords as well as any Oriental craftsman, and better. That the art was not seriously attempted we gather from Cellini’s own words, for he says that it “differed from any he had as yet practised.”[92]

In all this ostentatious riot of ornament we in England preserved a dignified reticence. It is true that the City of London commissioned Petit of Blois to make the cumbersome gilded and engraved suit for Charles I, but we have in our national collections no specimens of elaborately embossed parade armour which were made for kings, princes, or nobles in England.

The master-craftsman Jacobi Topf and his pupil William Pickering both produced suits of great richness and beauty, but they were always eminently practical, and their utility and convenience were never hampered or destroyed. Where there is embossing it is shallow, and as the relief is not sharp there is no edge which might catch the lance-point or sword. Much of the work of Topf was russeted and gilt, a method which produced a highly ornate and yet never a trivial or confused effect.

The parade suit by Bartolomeo Campi, made for Charles V (Real Armeria, Madrid, A, 125), is so obviously a fantastic costume for masque or pageant that it can hardly be criticized as armour. It is based upon a classical model, for the cuirass is moulded to the torse after the manner of the armour of the late Roman Empire. As metal-work it will rank with the finest specimens extant, but as armour it completely fails to satisfy (see page 132 and Plate XIV).

[77]

Although not in any way decorative, the “puffed and slashed” armour copied from the civilian dress of the sixteenth century is an example of the armourer making use of embossing apart from the actual requirements of the constructive side of his craft. Radiating lines of repoussé work, simple, fine, and delicate, had been introduced into the later forms of Gothic armour, the pauldrons had been fluted like the cockle-shell, and these flutings had been made of practical use in Maximilian armour, giving increased rigidity without weight, a factor which is found in modern corrugated iron.

The imitation of fabrics in steel is, however, unpardonable, and has not even the richness or minute technique of the parade suits mentioned above. It is true that the embossing gives greater rigidity to the metal, but we can have none of the admiration for these unnatural forms of armour that we have for those in which the goldsmith and armourer worked together. The style of dress which was imitated was in itself designed to create a false impression, for the slashings were intended to convey the idea that the wearer was a swashbuckler, fresh from the wars. We can only, therefore, regard it as an absurdity to represent fabrics, which were supposed to have been frayed and cut by weapons, in weapon-proof steel. That the fashion was popular we know from the number of suits extant, and even Conrad Seusenhofer himself did not disdain to produce them. The vogue did not endure for more than about twenty years, for as soon as the fashion in civilian dress changed the armour became simpler and the imitation ceased (Plate XXI).

[78]

An important part of the work of the armourer was the cleaning and keeping in repair his master’s effects. This was especially the case with mail, which from its nature is peculiarly susceptible to the action of rust. It is to this cause and to the incessant remaking of armour that we owe the loss of all authentic mail armour of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. A good example of this may be cited in the hoard of plate armour and helmets, of which last nearly a hundred were collected, found in a cistern in the castle of Chalcis, in Eubœa, in the year 1840.[93] They had lain there since the year 1470, when the castle was taken by the Turks, and are in many instances in excellent preservation considering the condition in which they were found. The collection was brought to light and catalogued in a very unscientific manner by the historian Buchon, but there is no trace of mail of any kind except one link attached to a helmet.

In the early part of the fifteenth century mail was used extensively both for complete defence and for protecting vital parts not covered by plate, of which details will be found on page 109; therefore it is most improbable that a large collection such as this should have been left with no vestiges of mail. It is obvious, therefore, that the delicate fabric was attacked and destroyed by rust long before the same agent could make any effect on the solid plate. The following extracts will give in chronological order the various entries which concern the cleaning and repairing of armour:—

Here we find the reason, or at any rate one of the reasons, for wearing the surcoat. Some writers have suggested that it was worn to protect[79] the Crusader from the sun in his Oriental campaigns, but the quotation given definitely asserts that it was to keep off the rain. This is certainly a practical reason, for, as has been stated before in this chapter, the intricate fabric of mail was peculiarly susceptible to damp.

This refers to leather sacks used either for keeping the armour in or for cleaning it by shaking it with sand and vinegar.

The barrel was here used in the same way. The mail was placed inside with sand and vinegar and rolled and shaken. The same method is still practised in some districts for cleaning barrels for cider or ale. Chains are placed in the barrel with sand to obtain the same result. On Plate XV a barrel is shown on the extreme left of the picture with a mail shirt hanging over the edge.

This extract shows clearly the need for the barrel and sand. The mail had evidently rusted with rain and perspiration, and left stains and marks on the quilted undergarment. We find the term “rokked” used in the poem of Syr Gawayn, which means cleaned by rolling.

The pumice was for cleaning off the rust, and the blanket was used for packing the armour when in store or on a journey.

The “bockeling & ledering” of course refers to the fitting of new leather straps and buckles. The Almain rivet was the half-suit of the foot-soldier and has been explained on page 52.

Froissart describes the champion Dimeth, at the coronation of Henry IV, as being “tout couvert de mailles de vermeil, chevalier et cheval.”[96] This painting of armour was frequently indulged in both for the above practical reason and also for personal adornment. Tinning was also used for protecting armour from wet (vide page 33 sub ann. 1622). Armour in the Dresden Armoury and elsewhere is painted black. Hall in his Chronicles in the account of the funeral of Henry V states that men-at-arms in black armour rode in the procession. The armour in the seventeenth century was often blacked or russeted. Suits of this kind are to be seen in the Gun Wharf Museum at Portsmouth and elsewhere.[81] Haselrigg’s “lobsters” were so called, according to Clarendon,[97] because of their “bright shells.” It is quite possible that their armour was blacked. In the Lansdowne MS. 73, William Poore suggested a remedy for “preserving armour from pewtrifying, kankering or rusting,” but there are no details given of the method he employed; it was probably some kind of lacquer or varnish. Among the Archives of the Compte du tresor de Savoie (63 f. 157) is mentioned a payment to Jehan de Saisseau “por vernicier une cotte d’aciel,” and in one of the Tower inventories (Harl. MS. 1419) of the year 1547 “a buckler of steel painted” occurs.[98]

With regard to the keeping of armour in store two instances have been mentioned above under the dates 1296 and 1513. In addition to these we find that in 1470 in the Chronique de Troyes, the French soldiers were forbidden to carry their arms and armour in “paniers,” which, from the statement, was evidently a practice.

[82]

In the Wardrobe Account of Edward I, 1281, published by the Society of Antiquaries, we find payments to Robinet, the King’s tailor, for coffers, sacks, boxes, and cases to contain the different parts of the armour.

In the Wardrobe Expenses of Bolingbroke, Earl of Derby (Camden Soc.), 1393, are found the following entries:—

The “buckler of steel painted” mentioned above is scheduled as being in “a case of leather.” In an engraving of Charles I by W. Hole, in the British Museum, a box is shown for holding the breast and back plates.[101]

[83]

An important variety of defensive armour, which has not hitherto received the notice which it deserves, is the padded and quilted armour of linen, which was always popular with the foot-soldier on account of its cheapness, and was in the thirteenth century held in high esteem by the wealthier knight. In the case of crushing blows it would of course protect the body from breaking of the skin, but would not be of such use as the more rigid defence of plate. It was, however, very effectual against cutting blows, and had the advantage of being more easily put on and off, and, although hot, was less oppressive than metal in long marches. In miniatures of the fourteenth century we frequently find parts of the armour coloured in such a way as to suggest that it is either not metal or else metal covered with fabric. Where there was no metal and where the wearer depended entirely on the fabric for protection it was heavily quilted and padded, or else several thicknesses of the material were used (Fig. 40). Where metal was used the defence was the ordinary plate armour covered with fabric, or the metal was inserted in small plates as is the case in the brigandine.

It is not the intention of the present section to deal with the various details of defensive armour except only as far as those details bear directly on the employment of fabrics, therefore the construction of the brigandine, which is well known to all students of the subject of armour and weapons, will be found under the heading of the Craft of the Armourer on page 49. The same may be said of the horn and metal jacks which were a humbler form of the brigandine. The most concise[84] descriptions of such armour will be found in the Catalogue of Helmets and Mail by de Cosson and Burgess (Arch. Journ., XXXVII). Guiart in his Chronicles, written in the early part of the fourteenth century, speaks of “cotes faitices de coton a pointz entailliez.” These were probably common doublets, quilted or laced like the jack.

Few of these defences of fabric have survived, owing to the ravages of moth and damp.

In the Pitt-Rivers Museum, Oxford, are a pair of culottes or drawers lined with thin busks of steel, and also two sets of rose-pink silk doublets, breast, back, and fald padded with cotton, both presumably of the late sixteenth century; they are noticed in Arms and Armour at Oxford, by the present writer, but no definite history is known of either of the specimens. Doublets and “coats of fence” of this nature occur frequently in inventories and other documents, but the following extracts give certain definite details which bear directly on the subject.

There is a doubt as to the actual date of this manuscript. In the edition from which the above translation is taken it is described as of Icelandic origin about the year 1150, but it may be possibly as late as the beginning of the thirteenth century. The details of the dress worn under the armour may be compared on the one hand with the leggings shown on the Bayeux tapestry and on the other hand with those mentioned in the Hastings MS. of the fifteenth century (Archæologia, LVII), which gives the details of undergarments worn by the armed man at this date (page 107). The horse-armour is the “couverture” or trapper so frequently mentioned in inventories, which was often decorated with fine embroidery. Even altar-hangings were used for this purpose, as was the case in the sack of Rome in 1527. Padded horse-armour was[85] used in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries for tournaments, minute regulations for which are found in the Traité d’un Tournoi by King René of Anjou, which will be referred to farther on in this chapter.

This item is evidently for stuffing gambesons with cendal[103] and tow. Cendal is somewhat of a mystery as to its exact nature. Like all fabrics of past ages, we can but guess at its nature. It has been discussed under its name in Gay’s Glossaire Archæologic.

The first of these regulations concerns the materials used, and is[86] very similar to that of the Armourers’ Company of London made in 1322, which is given in full in Appendix A. So much of the work of the padding and lining was hidden from sight that these regulations were most necessary to prevent the use of old rags and bad materials. The second entry seems to refer to the manner in which canvas and cendal were to be used and in what proportions. It should be noticed that at this period the surcoat, in England at any rate, was being gradually shortened. The regulation above quoted, however, suggests in the last sentence that in France it was still worn long.

Here the quantity of cotton is given and it is ordered to be new. It seems to have been allowed to put old linen, but this may possibly only mean seasoned linen, between the folds.

The name “Ada” of the armentarius rather suggests that it might be a female who provided these gambesons.

From the context of the first extract this haketon of buckram would appear to be a very serviceable defence, for the lance which had penetrated the shield and the jaserant, or coat of plate, had not penetrated the undergarment of buckram. Like all other fabrics mentioned in medieval writings, we cannot definitely say of what material this buckram was composed, but from the second extract it seems to have been used equally with silk for the haketon.

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These very minute regulations show that the “jack” was considered a most serviceable defence in the fifteenth century. At the same time it must have been a hot and uncomfortable garment, for twenty-nine or thirty thicknesses of linen with a deerskin on the top, or worse still thirty-one thicknesses of deerskin, would make a thick, unventilated defence which would be almost as insupportable as plate armour. The last item may be a clerical error, and indeed from the context it would appear to be thirty thicknesses of linen with one of deerskin, for the leather would be far more costly to work up than the linen. The extract has been given in full because it is so rare to come across practical details of construction of this nature.

This may be only an ordinary doublet, or it may be some kind of “coat of fence” or “privy coat” lined with plates of steel, horn, or whale-bone. These “busks” of steel are found as late as the seventeenth century,[88] for Gustavus Adolphus had a coat lined with them (Lifrustkammer, Stockholm) and Bradshaw’s hat (Ashmolean Mus., Oxford) is strengthened with steel strips. (Fig. 50.)

It would seem from the above that in France the garment worn under the tourney-armour was folded till it was three fingers thick on the shoulders. In the Low Countries, however, the pourpoint was of a different fashion, for there they made the garment of two thicknesses and stuffed this with cotton-waste to the thickness of four fingers. The difference of thickness can be accounted for by the fact that folded linen would not compress so much as cotton-waste. It should be noted in the extract from the Ordinances of Louis XI that old material is advised as being more pliable and softer. At the same time we may be sure that it was carefully chosen. It is interesting to note that in 1322 the material is ordered to be new, but in 1450 old linen is recommended.

Besides the making of undergarments or complete defences of linen overgarments, pourpoints, the Linen Armourers, as we find them called in the City of London Records, made linings for helmets. This was a most important detail in the equipment of a man, for the helm or helmet was worse than useless if it did not fit securely and if the head was not adequately padded to take off the shock of the blow. In the Sloane MS. 6400, we find among the retinue of Henry V at Agincourt, “Nicholas Brampton, a stuffer of bacynets,” and in the Oxford City Records under the date 1369 are the entries “Bacynet 13/4, stuffing for ditto 3/4.” In the Hastings MS. (Archæologia, LVII), among the items given as the “Abilment for the Justus of the Pees,” the first on the list is “a helme well stuffyd.” This stuffing consisted of a thickly padded cap or lining tied to the head-piece with strings, which are clearly shown in the well-known[89] engraving of Albert Dürer, of a man and a woman supporting a shield on which is a skull (Fig. 42, 2). There are some of these caps in the Waffensammlung, Vienna, which have been noticed in Vol. II of the Zeitschrift für Historische Waffenkunde.

The original lining of Sir Henry Lee’s helmet (Plate XIII) is still in situ; this, however, is riveted to the helmet and follows the shape of the head. In this respect it is different from the helmet-cap, which was padded. A padded cap was worn independently of the lining of the helmet. These are shown on Figs. 43, 44. Similar caps are shown on the following works of Dürer: S. George on foot, S. George (Stephan Baumgartner) and Felix Hungersbourg.

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These defences are of the same nature as the jack shown on Figs. 24, 25. The brigandine was more elaborate and costly, for it was composed of small plates riveted to the foundation and covering of fabric and was therefore the work of a skilled artificer. The jack, on the other hand, was more easily put together and could be done by the wearer himself or by his wife. An interesting example of one of these village armouries mentioned above is to be found at Mendlesham Church, Suffolk, in the strong-room of which are portions of suits and half-suits dating from the late fifteenth to the middle of the seventeenth century. The church also preserves the records of the upkeep of the equipment, one of the last entries being in 1613, a payment of 1s. 4d. to an armourer for “varnishinge the town head-piece and the corslitt and for setting on leathers and rivettes.”