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.
PLATE XVIII
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]
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 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, 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).
1. Vervelles.
2. Camail.
3. “Vif de l’harnois,”
“défaut de la cuirasse.”
4. Baldrick.
5. Jupon.
6. Gadlings or gauntlets.
7. Bascinet.
8. Edge of hauberk.
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).
PLATE XIX
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).