Embroidery for horses

Who would have thought that embroidery was something that an armourer might worry about? Clearly Sir Geoffrey Luttrell pictured at the start of the post would have understood. Records show that artists were commissioned to paint various flags and horse trappings for jousts – much less expensive than employing a posse of embroiderers and quicker as well. These might be stencilled or stamped, especially if many of the same thing was required.

Sir Geoffrey’s horse seems to be covered from the end of his ears to his tail. This item is a caparison or even a trapper. Clearly it was so that the audience at a joust was able to recognise each of the contestants and they clearly had their value on ceremonial occasions. Quilted caparisons became popular during the crusades as a practical part of its protection from arrows. The horse might also be equipped with a chainmail trapper – in which case a cloth draped over the mail also helped the horse not to overheat.

If embroidery was needed, the design might be hand drawn and then stitched. Layers might be appliquéd and then embroidered. The British Museum is home to the remnants of en embroidered medieval horse trapping showing the arms of William of Fortibus, Earl of Albemarle (d. 1260). The Museé de Cluny holds some fourteenth century horse trappings manufactured in England on a ground of red velvet depicting lions. These are heavily embroidered with gilt thread and date from the reign of Edward III. Records of heraldic horse-wear can be found in many royal account books of the medieval period including royal armourers records and the royal wardrobe accounts.

Alternative sources of information about what the well-dressed-medieval-horse-about-town was wearing include Froissart’s Chronicles which depict decorated horse trappings from the fifteenth century while Les Tres Riches Heures depicts 14th century trappings. I may admit to looking forward to revisiting several of my Books of Hours texts to see how much embroidery I can spot in the illustrations. Elaborate illustrations reveal tassels, as well as jagged or leaf like edges. The same illustrations depict decorative reins. Of course, my difficulty is then to find the associated images to illustrate this post…we’ll start with Froissart and the French jousts of St Ingelvert and the Salisbury Museum’s medieval illustration of a horse harness not to mention a rather wonderful tasselled saddle cloth which is just visible.

Now – I will admit that I didn’t think that I would travel seamlessly from a post about cope chests to another linked by embroidery threads and appliqué to caparisons!

Power and the People – the Peasants’ Revolt according to Froissart.

Jean Froissart was a fourteenth century monastic chronicler. He was not sympathetic to the peasants when he recounted the English Peasants Revolt of 1381. He wrote, ‘Never was any land or realm in such great danger as England at that time. It was because of the abundance and prosperity in which the common people then lived that this rebellion broke out.’ Despite the ‘never had it so good’ viewpoint – which would have gone down well with his European patrons who did not want to see the peasants getting a different deal, he did explain that the peasants believed that they were treated like animals and were determined to be free ‘and if they laboured or did any other works for their lords, they would be paid for it.’

There are different editions of the chronicles. In one version the illustrator makes Richard II look like a young boy but in another, fifteenth century version, he is an adult with dark hair.

Wat Tyler and John Ball meet outside London – they’re carrying English banners so that readers know who they are. Wat and John are labelled for clarity by the artist but the background and the buildings are stylised. It is unlikely that the rebels would have been as well equipped as the illustrations show them – the illustrators were used to armies of the Hundred Years War and even then it was only the wealthy who could afford armour. Most ordinary soldiers were fortunate to have a padded jerkin known as a ‘jack’ or a coat reinforced with chain links. Armour was expensive – and peasants could not afford it.

The king meets the rebels at St Catherine’s wharf. The back ground is stylised but the image also shows rebels being admitted to London in the background. The next scene shows the killing of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Simon Sudbury and other officials by the peasants.

The death of Wat Tyler- killed by the mayor of London William Walworth – apparently for not taking his hat off to the king. The scene also shows Richard II winning over the peasants by promising to be their leader. Wat was drawn into the revolt because, amongst the other grievances, a poll tax collector had assaulted his daughter. The image below is the same scene by a different illustrator – the king is shown as an adult. Smithfield has taken on a stylised urban aspect.

Battle of Crecy anniversary

Battle_of_crecy_froissart.jpgIt’s the 670th anniversary of the Battle of Crecy this year on August 26th, so no doubt I’ll return to the subject in due course.

The Hundred Years war commenced in 1337 as these things do with an exchange of views about the import of wool into Flanders. Nor were the English terribly happy that the French were encouraging the Scots to rebel so Edward III put his thinking hat on and came up with his family tree. His mother, was of course, Isabella of France a.k.a. the She-wolf. England didn’t have a salic law and Edward couldn’t see that the fact that the French prohibited women from inheriting the throne being a particular problem. He calmly announced that although he had supported Philip of Valois in 1328 when Charles IV had died without sons that he had decided, upon careful reflection, that his own claim was a better one.

 

The war kicked off with a few cross-channel raids. In 1340 things changed. The English navy defeated the French at Sluys ensuring control of the English Channel or La Manche as the french prefer to call it. This was followed by a full scale invasion of France by an English army of 12,000 of whom more than half were longbow men. These men were veterans of the Scottish campaigns. The English enjoyed a holiday in Normandy doing what medieval soldiers did – think pillage and rape.

 

The French massed their army of 12,000 plus 6,000 or so mercenaries with crossbows. It should also be added that there were huge numbers of peasants who’d been pressed into service as foot soldiers – so plenty of bill hooks and scythes in evidence. Philip moved this army to the Somme thinking to place Edward at a disadvantage.

 

Edward ignored the water hazard and made for the top of a hill where he divided his force into three groups and instructed them to dig ditches and plant sharpened stakes in the ground. The French had not encountered the power of the longbow men against foot soldiers or cavalry before but it was this battle that made their name and ensured that the weapon came to dominate the war. By the end of the afternoon the French had been soundly beaten.

 

In other news of the battle the Black Prince, a sixteen-year-old novice at warfare, was in charge of the English right flank and when it looked as though the French might be successful at that end of the battlefield the king told his commanders to let his son get on with it – something of a steep learning curve. It was in this battle that the blind King of Bohemia managed to get himself killed along with the King of Majorca and a thousand or so French knights. Philip of Valois was lucky to escape capture.

 

Our account of the battle comes from Froissart who was born in 1337 or thereabouts so not on the scene of the battle itself but employed at the age of twenty-four by Phillipa of Hainault (Edward III’s lady wife) in a literary capacity. He is recorded as making careful research and asking lots of questions before putting quill to parchment– he’s also more or less the only detailed chronicler of events. For his report of events click on the picture at the start of this post to open up a new window.  The picture is an illustration from Froissart’s Chronicles.

 

It is worth remembering that the Hundred Years War is the backdrop to the reign of Richard II, the social unrest of his reign and his deposition by Henry IV.  It returns to the forefront of popular history with King Henry V of Agincourt fame and his marriage to Katherine of Valois and lingers during much of Henry VI’s reign- think Joan of Arc- resulting ultimately in Richard of York becoming decidedly aggrieved about Henry VI’s reliance upon the Beauforts  and Margaret of Anjou’s advice.  Henry VI’s failure to repeat his father’s victories and the decades of constant warfare are all part of the fateful mix that contribute to the Wars of the Roses.  And, of course without Katherine of Valois and a certain Clerk of the Wardrobe there would have been no Henry Tudor.