CHAPTER V.

The very earliest of armorial devices are of two classes: the first comprising those which consist of simple lines and tinctures, so disposed as to form an agreeable harmony or contrast; and the second embracing those which convey some sentiment. The first resulted from a study of what was pleasing to the eye; the other expressed the moral attributes of the original bearer, by natural or artificial figures employed as symbols. To illustrate my meaning, let us suppose that two knights, A and B, assume each a coat of arms. A, regarding nothing more than an agreeable effect, embroiders his banner with chequers of red and yellow. B, esteeming himself a valiant soldier, expresses that sentiment by representing upon his silver buckler a lion in the attitude of combat, which, for the purpose of inspiring terror, he paints of a colour resembling that of blood. In the course of a few generations the principles upon which these devices have been framed are reduced to a science, with a regular nomenclature and fixed laws. Then A’s banner begins to be spoken of as ‘Chequy, gules, and or,’ while B’s escocheon is described as ‘Argent, a lion rampant, gules.’ Again, two followers of A, whom we will call C and D, imitating their chief’s example, assume similar devices for their shields and pennons. C gives the red and yellow chequers of his patron, adding, for distinction’s sake, a white bordure, while D surmounts the same device with a diagonal stripe of blue. In like manner, two adherents of B, whom we will style E and F, copy the lion from his shield, but give him a different colour, E’s lion being black and F’s blue. Carrying the principle a stage further, G, a supporter of D, adopts his blue bend, but omits the chequers of A; and H, a follower of F, retains the colours of his device, but gives three lions instead of one; while I, also retaining those colours, gives his lion or lions walking or passant; and so on to infinity. This I believe will be found the true theory of the multiplication of armorial bearings.[138]

Thus it will be seen that only a portion of such devices were ever symbolical, and that those which were, in process of time ceased to be so in relation to the successors or dependents of the original assumers. When surnames were first generally adopted, a personage to whom nature had given a pale visage took the name of White. His sons might be all ruddy and his grandsons all brown, yet every one of them bore the family name of White. Again, the original Mr. Wise might have had the misfortune to become the progenitor of a long line of blockheads, and Mr. Smith’s descendants have all been tailors; yet, regardless of these circumstances, their posterity are all, respectively, Wises and Smiths until this day. So it has necessarily occurred with heraldric devices; and many a gentleman who bears crescents or other celestial insignia, is chiefly intent upon mundane affairs; while many another, whose shield displays the rampant lion possesses the peaceful disposition of a lamb. Strangely at variance with experience is ofttimes found the sentiment of Horace:

“Fortes creantur fortibus et bonis,
—— nec imbellem feroces
Progenerant aquilæ columbam.”

The early treatises on heraldry contain little beyond the technicalities of the science; but in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries a race of authors arose who bestowed infinite labour upon researches into the origin of heraldric figures and their symbolical meaning. According to these writers, every tincture and bearing adumbrated the natural dispositions of the bearer. The treatises of Leigh and the succeeding heraldrists down to the time of Morgan abound with speculations, often ingenious but still oftener absurd, as to the import of armorial ensigns; and a new system arose sustaining the same relation to heraldry that astrology bears to astronomy. This was called Armilogia, or the Language of Arms; and the length to which it was carried tended perhaps more than any other circumstance to bring the study of legitimate armory into disrepute. In the present Chapter it is my intention to give a few specimens of these theories selected here and there, without any attempt at collation; for their originators are often widely at variance with each other, and, as in most other matters that are purely speculative, we find “quot homines tot sententiæ.”

One of the foremost absurdities of this system is the respect paid to the mystic number nine. In whatever point of view we examine the armory of those days, nine prominent features are made to present themselves; thus there are 9 tinctures, 9 sorts of shields, 9 furs, 9 honourable ordinaries, 9 roundles, 9 differences of brethren, 9 worthy partitions, 9 mesles, 9 abatements of honour, 9 virtues of chivalry, 9 worthies, 9 female ditto, 9 sorts of gentry, 9 duties of heralds, ix artycles of gentilnes, ix vices contrary to gentilmen, ix precious stonys, ix vertues of precious stonys, 9 especial rejoicings, &c. &c. &c.

“Wherefore,” asks old Leigh, “have you used the number of nyne in all your demonstracions more than any other?” to which Gerard replies, “Not onely because it is aptest for this science, for that the rules incident thereto chiefly fall out to that number, but that for that of all simple numbers it is most of content. The figure whereof holdeth all other vnder it, as by the Arte of Arithmetique ye may sonest perceve, where ye shall fynde, that all articles and compoundes, be they never so hudge,[139] are made of nyne figures. The golden number also of itselfe, is the last, the whiche ye may equally devyde into three odde partes, which have bin resembled to the blisse of the iii Ierarchies of holines. In the which every one hath a likenes of the Trinitie,” with much more equally to the purpose.[140]

Nothing can be more tedious than to follow a zealous armilogist through all the windings and turnings into which his fancy leads him. I quote, by way of example, Leigh’s remarks on the tincture gules or red:

“The first of these seven coloures is called Geules. And is in colour neither red nor sanguine, but is the verye vermilion itself. For that is right Geule. It is a royal colour, and hath that proper qualitie in it selfe that it may not be gased on any while. For then the eye is wekened therby. The author wherof is profe it selfe. L. I thincke you may be to seke for comendacion of this colour, for I have not harde muche either spoken or written in prayse of it. Can ye saye any thyng? G. Although it shewe itself to be commendable, yet shall it not wante my prayse. I were nere dryven to the wall, if I had no more to commende this coloure by but that where-with the Frenshe herehaughts[141] did sett forthe their Auriflamb, whiche came frome heaven, as by vaine miracle they fayne. But they that make suche shifte shulde rather have taken occasion to praise the same, for that the red rammes skinnes covered the arke. And that is no fable. Yet for my promise of comendacion, I say to you, it is and longe hath ben used of emperours and kyngs for an apparell of majestie and of judges in their judgement seates. Also God the Father, promysinge redemption to the people, by the passion of Christ, saieth, ‘What is he that cometh from Edom, with redd-coloured clothes of Bosra?’ which is so costly clothe. Besides this, it is often spoken of in the scripture which I leve of for lengthnynge of time. Nowe wyll I speake of the planett Mars, which is the planett that this colour appertayneth to and is of all other the hotest, and most fyrye. Martianus telleth, he is the armipotent god of battell whose hardy desire is to be avenged with spedy boldenes. Ptolomeus sayeth, this planett maketh a man apte to all firye workes. L. If this be all the prayse you can gyve him, you will no more offend me with tediousnes. G. What nedeth more than enoughe, can ye not understand hereby what the nature of Mars is? L. Yes, very well. G. Why then I will shewe you of the precious stone appertainyng to that colour and planett, which is called a Rubye. It is a stone of dignitie, and as Isidore writeth, is of the kynde of carbuncles. This precious stone neither fier wasteth or changeth his colour. This was one of the precious stones that was sett in the brest lapp of Aron. Of diuerse authors this is diversely and wonderfully commended for hys singuler vertues. As who list to rede may finde plentifully inoughe written thereof. Now to the colour simple and compounde. Of itselfe

1, It betokeneth strength, bouldenes with hardenes.
2, with Or, a desire to conquere.
3, with Argent, envie revenged.
4, with Azure, to wynne heaven by good dedes.
5, with Sable, hateth the worlde, with werynes thereof.
6, with Verte, bould of corage in youth.
7, with Purpure, strong in dede, juste in worde, &c.”

In like manner our author labours through the remaining colours, ascribing to each some wonderful virtue. The irrelevant nature of the observations introduced is occasionally highly diverting. Nature, art, metaphysics, religion, history, are all in turn made to contribute something towards the illustration of the armilogist’s theories. In his disquisition on Argent or silver, he remarks, “Being fine it is medicinable.” His imaginary friend says, “You digresse now, and meddell with that that apperteineth not to this arte.” At this Master Gerard waxes wroth and says, “I marvayle what science arte or misterye it were that an herhaught sholde have none intelligence thereof? were it never so secret or profunde. For, if he have not of all thynges some vnderstanding, as well as of severall languages he is not worthye to be an herhaught. Therefore necessary it is for him to have an universal knowledge in eche thinge.”[142]

I can scarcely hope to interest my reader by a display of the symbolical meaning of the colours of heraldry, yet as perchance some one may feel gratified in being able to judge of his or her own character and dispositions by examining the family achievement, I will here, as briefly as possible, set down the result of Master Leigh’s philosophy, divested of its verbiage.

Gold, then, betokens wisdom, justice, riches, and elevation of mind. Compounded with silver, it signifies victory over all infidels, Turks and Saracens; with gules, a disposition to shed one’s blood to acquire riches; and with azure, a disposition to keep what one gets. Combined with sable it typifies constancy in all things, particularly in love; with vert, a joyful possession of riches; and with purpure a friendly feeling even towards enemies.

Silver alone signifies chastity, charity, and a clear conscience; but in company with

gold—the will ‘to reuenge Christ’s bluddshed.’
gules—honest boldness.
azure—courtesy and discretion.
sable—abstinence.
vert—virtue (!)
purpure—the favour of the people.

Gules has already been described. Azure, simple, shows a godly disposition, and joined with

gold—the joyful possession of wealth.
silver—vigilance in service.
gules—aptitude to reprove villany.
sable—sympathy for suffering.
vert—success in enterprise.
purpure—wisdom in counsel.

Sable betokens constancy, divine doctrine, and sorrow for loss of friends. With

gold, it means long life.
silver—fame.
gules, it excites the fear of enemies.
azure, it shows a desire to appease strife.
vert—joy after sorrow.
purpure—a religious disposition till death.

Vert, per se, means joy, love, and gladness. In poetry it is usually associated with these feelings. He who bears it with

gold, is ‘all in pleasure and joy.’
silver—a sure lieutenant.
gules—a determined fellow.
azure—has excess of mirth.
sable—moderation of ditto.
purpure—bad luck after good fortune.

Purpure, alone, betokeneth jurisdiction, and combined with

or—wisdom and riches.
silver—a peaceable disposition.
gules—policy in war.
azure—just, but unfortunate, service.
sable—‘lamentable as the lapwing.’
vert—‘scorpion-like.’
&c. &c. &c.

The ordinaries, the lines of partition, &c., according to this system, are all significant: thus the bordure signifies a siege; the fesse, command; the cheveron, great note and estimation; per bend, justice; bendy-undy, some notable enterprise achieved by water; the pile, immortal virtue; nebuly, labour and travail. Morgan speaks of the “direct line of self-love; the flecked and wavy line of pride; the clouded line of self-conceit; the indented line of envie; the crenelle line of ambition, &c.”[143]

Among common charges the rose means mercy and justice; the pomegranate, a true soldier; the billet, justice; the garb, plenty, &c.

The following queer passage occurs in Morgan:[144]

“Some of the ancients were of opinion that the forbidden fruit was an aple of green colour, which we term a pomace: but it might aswel been blew, since we term it a hurt: for of that colour is Becanus his Indian fig-tree, which he affirms to be the tree of the forbidden fruit: if it had been red it had been a tortiaux, which hath tortered her posterity ever since; if it had been an orange it was the symbole of dissimulation, by which the woman might easily be deceived: if it had been the golden aples of the sun, the pomegranates, it had purple berries within it that left a stain, being a besant of a waighty guilt: or it might have been silver, for it was fair to the eye, and was a plate that served the worst fruit to mankind.”

Almost every heraldric animal is emblematical of the qualities of the bearer; but as, upon this principle, little honour would redound to the bearers of some species, Guillim tells us that “all sortes of animals borne in armes or ensigns must in blazoning be interpreted in the best sense, that is, according to their most generous and noble qualities, and so to the greatest honour of their bearers. For example, the fox is full of wit, and withall given wholly to filching for his prey. If then this be the charge of an escocheon we must conceive the qualities represented to be his wit and cunning, but not his pilfering and stealing.”

The following list of emblematical animals and their parts may amuse some: those whose taste does not lie this way can easily pass it over.

The wolf, according to Upton, signifies a wrangler in parliament or assembly!

It does not seem to have occurred to these allegorizing worthies that the tincture of a charge may be diametrically opposed to the signification assigned to the charge itself. For example, the coat, ‘Vert, a bull’s head or,’ by the armilogical rules cited above, would signify, as to the tinctures, pleasure and joy, while as to the charge it would mean rage and fury. Again, ‘Purpure, a wolf argent’ would mean “a wrangler with a peaceable disposition!!”

It was my intention to have examined this Language of Arms with more minuteness, but after a little research I find the labour ill-bestowed. He who can relish such far-fetched notions may gratify himself by a perusal of the somewhat rare folio often before quoted, Sylvanus Morgan’s ‘Sphere of Gentry,’ London, 1661; and still further by that of his supplementary ‘Armilogia,’ a small quarto published in 1666. These works, with many others of this and the preceding centuries, contain much useful scientific information on Heraldry, and generally evince some scholarship, but they are most unnecessarily blended with what Mr. Moule justly designates “a cabalistic jargon,”[145] that renders it a matter of utter impossibility for any person of ordinary patience to read them through. Guillim, whose work is on the whole the most readable of the number, is not altogether free from this laboured absurdity.

One feature in many of the early works on Heraldry occasionally renders them exceedingly amusing, and may partly countervail the prosy dulness of armilogy—namely, the fancied attributes of visible objects generally, but of animals in particular. Absurdities in Natural History at which a child would now laugh are gravely advanced, and often supported by quotations from Pliny and other classical authors. A few specimens from Leigh and Guillim are subjoined.

The Hart, saith Avicene, “is never troubled with fevers, because he hath no gall. He hath a bone in his hert, as precious as yvery. He feareth muche the voyce of the foxe, and hateth the serpent. He is long lived. For Aristotle writeth, that Diomedes did consecrate a hart to Diana, with a coller of golde about his necke, which had these wordes, DIOMEDES DIANÆ. After whose tyme, almost a thousand yeres, Agathocles the kynge of Sicile did kill the same harte, and offered him up with his coller to Jupiter, in hys temple, which was in Calabria.”[146]

“The Bore is the ryght Esquier, for he beareth both armor and shielde, and fighteth sternelye. When he determineth to fight, he will frot his left shield the space of halfe a day, against an oke. Because that when he is streking thereon with the tuskes of his enemy, he shal feele no griefe thereof, and when they have fought one day together then they wil depart of themselves, keping good appointment, to meete in the same place, the next day after, yea, and the third day, till one of them be victor.”[147]

Of the Wolf he says. “It is sayde, if a man be seene of hym first, the man leseth his voyce. But if the wolfe be scene of manne first, then the wolfe leseth his boldenesse and hardines. Plinie wryteth, he loueth to playe with a chylde, and that he will not hurt it, tyll he be extreame houngry, what time he will not spare to devowre it.... Avicene telleth that he desyreth greatly to eate fishe. And Phisiologus writeth that he may not bend his necke backewarde, in no moneth of the yere but in May.... He enfecteth the wolle of shepe that he byteth, and is adversarye to them and theyr lambes.... There is nothynge that he hateth so much as the knockynge together of two flint stones, the whiche he feareth more then the hunters. Aristotle sayeth that all kinde of wolves are contrary to all kynde of sheepe. For profe wherof Cornelius Agrippa also affirmed that if a man make a string of the wolves guts and put it on the harpe with stringes made of shepes guttes, it will never bee brought with any consent of harmony to agree with the other.”[148]

Of the Raven Guillim says: “It hath bene an ancient received opinion, and the same also grounded upon the warrant of the sacred scriptures (if I mistake not) that such is the propertie of the Raven, that from the time his young ones are hatched or disclosed, untill he seeth what colour they will be of, he never taketh care of them nor ministreth any food unto them, therefore it is thought that they are in the meane space nourished with the heavenly dew. And so much also doth the kingly prophet, David, affirme, Which giveth fodder unto the cattell, and feedeth the young Ravens that call upon him. Psal. 147, 9. The Raven is of colour blacke, and is called in Latine, Corvus, or Corax, and (according to Alexander) hath but one kind of cry or sound which is Cras, Cras. When he perceiveth his young ones to be pennefeathered and black like himself, then doth he labour by all meanes to foster and cherish them from thence forward.”[149]

“Some report that those who rob the Tiger of her yong, use a policy to detaine their damme from following them by casting sundry looking-glasses in the way, whereat shee useth long to gaze, whether it be to behold her owne beauty or because when shee seeth her shape in the glasse, she thinketh she seeth one of her yong ones, and so they escape the swiftnesse of her pursuit. And thus,” moralizes our author, “are many deceived of the substance, whiles they are much busied about the shadowes.”[150]

The following, however, shows that Master Guillim was growing sceptical of some of the ‘vulgar errours’ of his day:

“Pierius, in his Hieroglyphicks saith, that if a man stricken of a Scorpion sit upon an asse, with his face towards the taile of the asse, his paine shall passe out of him into the asse, which shall be tormented for him. In my opinion he that will beleeve this, is the creature that must be ridden in this case!”[151]

CHAPTER VI.

Allusive Arms are of two kinds: first, those which contain charges that relate to the character, office, or history of the original bearer; and, secondly, those which convey a direct pun upon his name. Of the former description are the covered cups in the arms of Butler, and the bugle-horns in those of Forester.[152] Several examples of this species of bearings are given in the ninth chapter of this volume under the title of ‘Historical Arms.’ At present, I shall confine myself to the second class, which are called, in Latin blazon, Arma Cantantia, in French, Armes Parlantes, and in English, Canting Arms. Of this kind we have examples in the arms of Camel, a camel; Colt, 3 colts; Blackmore, 3 Moor’s heads, &c.

Dallaway, Porny, and other modern writers condemn this species of bearings, as of recent origin, and unworthy of a place amongst the classical devices of antient heraldry. Porny places them in the category of Assumptive Arms—“such as are taken up by the caprice or fancy of upstarts, though of never so mean extraction.” This notion, with whomsoever it originated, is decidedly erroneous, for such charges are found not only in the arms of distinguished nobles and knights in the very earliest days of hereditary armory, but occur also in those of several of the sovereign states of Europe. According to some authors the LIS in the royal arms of France are a play upon the name of Louis, antiently spelt Loys. The arms of Spain exhibit, quarterly, a castle and a lion—a pun upon the names of the united provinces of Castile and Leon; and after the conquest of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella, a pomegranate was added in the base of the escocheon. As to canting charges in the arms of subjects, we may observe that, in the earliest Roll of Arms extant, that of the time of Henry III,[153] at least nine such occur. To prove this assertion, as well as to give the reader a sample of antient blazon, I shall quote them:

In another Roll, made temp. Edw. II., armes parlantes are still more abundant.

Suthsex and Suthreye:

Kent:

Barkschire:

Bokinghamschire:

Estsex:

Suthfolk:

Northfolk:

Cauntebrugescire:

Derby et Notingham:

Huntingdonschire:

Norehaunton et Rotelonde:

Leycestreschire:

Herefordeschire:

Schropschire:

Northumberland and Comberland:

In addition to these, I may adduce the following very antient families, whose arms are not traceable to any grant, but have been borne immemorially as antient arms. The Pelhams bear three pelicans, and their crest is a peacock. The puns in both instances, it must be confessed, are very poor; still, few will doubt that puns were intended. The Arundels bear six swallows, in French hirondelles. The Barons D’Aquila, temp. Henry III, bore eagles; the Bourgchiers, water-bowgets; the Heringauds, herrings; Lupus, Earl of Chester, a wolf’s head; Shouldham, Abbot of St. Saviour’s, shovellers; the Bacons, a boar; the Wingfelds, wings; the Rokewoods, chess-rooks; the Pigots, pick-axes; the Boleynes, bulls’ heads; the Shelleys, shells; and an infinity of others.

Dame Julyan Berners was no stranger to such arms, for she distinctly mentions the coat of Peter de Roches, bishop of Winchester, who “baar iij rochys (roaches) after his awne naam.” The cross-corded, borne by the roper who became a “nobull man,” spoken of by that lady, belongs to the other class of allusive arms, as conveying a hint at his former menial occupation.

That this kind of charges became too common in the early part of the seventeenth century, Dallaway is, perhaps, correct in affirming; but those were punning days, and quaint conceits often took the place of true wit. Camden, the correctness of whose heraldric taste none will presume to question, did not hold arma cantantia in so contemptible a light as some of his successors in office have done; for among the arms granted by him, a list of which is given by Morgan,[155] the following, among others, occur:

There was a kind of Rebus much in vogue in the fourteenth and following centuries, which, although not regulated by the laws of blazon, possessed somewhat of the heraldric character. Many persons, even those of antient family, who bore regular coats of arms, adopted various figures for the purpose of expressing their names pictorially; for instance, one John Eagleshead gave as his seal an eagle’s head, surrounded by the motto,

“HOC AQUILÆ CAPUT EST, SIGNUMQUE FIGURA JOHANNIS.”

The Abbot of Ramsay bore, in the same way, a ram in the sea, with an appropriate legend. One Harebottle expressed his name by a hare upon a bottle; while Islip, abbot of Westminster, represented his by a man slipping out of a tree, and supposed to exclaim, “I slip!” These “painted poesies,” as Camden styles them, occur chiefly in painted glass windows, in decorated Gothic architecture, and in the title-pages of early printed books.[159]

One of the most singular rebuses I have seen occurs in a window in the chapel at Lullingstone, co. Kent, the seat of Sir P. H. Dyke, Bart. It is that of Sir John Peché. In this instance the arms of the personage are surrounded by a wreath, composed of two branches of a peach tree bearing fruit, every peach being marked with an Old English e; Peach-é. It is curious that this device proves the true pronunciation of the name, which was formerly supposed to be Peche.

The common rebus, although it did not come into general use until after the introduction of regular heraldry, may boast of a much higher antiquity, for such devices occur as the representatives of names of no less eminence than those of Cicero and Cæsar; not to mention those of celebrated sculptors and mint-masters, who, in the palmiest days of Rome, frequently marked the productions of their genius with a rebus. Taking into consideration the great antiquity of these “name-devices,” and their early introduction into the armorial shield, I cannot see any good reason for the strong prejudices which have existed against them in modern times. To me, indeed, they appear not only ‘allowable’ but ‘commendable’ armory; for arms, like names, are signs of personality, and therefore those which ‘speak to the eye’ most intelligibly are preferable to those charges which have in themselves no meaning.[160]

There can be no doubt but that, from the mutations our language has experienced within the last six centuries, many of the allusions contained in coats of arms are greatly obscured, while others are totally lost. The arms of the family of Eschales, now written Scales, exhibit eschalops (escallops), and those of Sykes, fountains—a syke, in the northern dialects, signifying a spring, or rather that kind of well, which was formerly sunk within the precincts of a camp.

In order to show how numerous allusive arms are in English armory, I will here give a list of those occurring in the Baronetage as it stood in 1836,[161] omitting, for the sake of brevity, the details of the blazon.

A more thorough acquaintance with English archaisms and provincialisms would probably enable one to detect numerous other bearings corresponding with the surnames of the bearers; but these seventy examples, cited from one branch of our lesser nobility only, are fully sufficient to prove that there is nothing mean or disgraceful in canting or allusive arms.

It would be a matter of little difficulty to fill fifty pages with arms of this description, but a few more, and those of the most remarkable, may be given. The family of Still bear guttée d’eau, drops of water; STILLA, Lat. a drop; Drope, Lord Mayor of London, also bore guttée; and Harbottle bore three drops or. Vere, Earl of Oxford, gave a boar, in Latin VERRES.

Clear, Bright, Day, and St. Clere bear a ‘sun in splendour;’ the same luminary is also given by Dyson and Pearson; while Delaluna bears a crescent, and Sterling stars.

The crest of Holden-Rose, as given in Baker’s Northamptonshire, may be briefly described as a hand HOLDING A ROSE!

Harrison bears a hedgehog, in French herisson; Pascall, a paschal-lamb; and Keats three cats!

And bears gules a Roman & argent!

Brand, Lord Dacre, bears two brands, or antient swords, in saltire; Hose, three legs couped at the thigh; and Pickering, a pike between three annulets.

“Le même usage (says Salverte) a été alternativement cause et effet.” We have already seen that multitudes of armorial ensigns have been borrowed from the bearers’ names—it is asserted by several authors that, in many cases, surnames were borrowed from arms. Salverte[162] thinks that many of the chiefs who were engaged in the Crusades assumed and handed down to their posterity names allusive to the charges of their banners. He also notices, from the history of Poland, the fact that there were in that country, in the twelfth century, two families called respectively Rose and Griffon, and he thinks “we may with probability suppose, that both took from their arms those names, which no longer subsist, because hereditary surnames were not yet established in Poland.” In Sweden, again, according to this learned writer, there is proof that the nobles followed such a practice. “One who bore in his arms the head of an ox assumed the name of Oxenstiern (front de bœuf;) and another took the name of Sparr, on account of the cheveron which formed the principal feature of his coat.”

“A particular instance of the armorial ensign being metonymically put for the bearer of it, occurs in the history of the Troubadours, the first of whom was called the Dauphin, or knight of the Dolphin, because he bore this figure on his shield. In the person of one of his successors, the name Dauphin became a title of sovereign dignity. Many other surnames were in this manner taken from arms, as may be inferred from the ordinary phraseology of romance, where many of the warriors are styled knights of the lion, of the eagle, of the rose, &c., according to the armorial figures they bore on their shields.”[163] At tournaments the combatants usually bore the title of Knights of the Swan, Dragon, Star, or whatever charge was most conspicuous in their arms.[164]

The arms of Trusbut are three water-bowgets, ‘Très boutz.’ Mr. Montagu thinks the name was taken from the bearings.[165]

The royal line of Plantagenet derived their appellation from the Planta genesta, their very antient badge.

There is certainly some probability that a few of our English surnames, particularly those derived from the animal kingdom, come immediately from an heraldrical source; though it would be a matter of great difficulty positively to ascertain whether the names or the arms were adopted first.

Without attempting to decide, therefore, which had the earliest existence, I shall annex certain surnames of an heraldrical character, which have found their way into our family nomenclature, and give the more prominent features of the blazon borne with those names, leaving it to the reader to form his own conclusions: