Читать книгу The Flags of the World - F. Edward Hulme - Страница 4

"By myn baner sleyn will y be

Or y will turne my backe or me yelde."

The same writer declares that at the siege of Harfleur by Henry V., in September, 1415, the king—

"Mustred his meyne faire before the town,

And many other lordes, I dar will say,

With baners bryghte and many penoun."

The trumpeters of the Life Guards and Horse Guards have the Royal Banner attached to their instruments, a survival that recalls the lines of Chaucer:—

"On every trump hanging a brode bannere

Of fine tartarium, full richly bete."

An interesting reference is found in a letter of Queen Katharine of Arragon to Thomas Wolsey, dated Richmond, August 13th, 1513, while King Henry VIII. was in France. Speaking of war with the Scots, her Majesty says: "My hert is veray good to it, and I am horrible besy with making standards, banners, and bagies."^[6]

While the men are buckling on their armour for the coming strife, wives, sisters, sweethearts, daughters, with proud hearts, give their aid, and with busy fingers—despite the tear that will sometimes blur the vision of the gay embroidery—swiftly and deftly labour with loving care on the devices that will nerve the warriors to living steel in the shock of battle. The Queen of England, so zealously busy in her task of love, is but a type and exemplar of thousands of her sex before and since. The raven standard of the Danish invaders of Northumbria was worked by the daughters of Regnar Lodbrok, and in the great rebellion in the West of England many a gentlewoman suffered sorely in the foul and Bloody Assize for her zealous share in providing the insurgents with the standards around which they rallied. The Covenanters of Scotland, the soldiers of Garibaldi freeing Italy from the Bourbons, the levies of Kossuth in Hungary, the Poles in the deadly grip of Russia, the armies of the Confederate States in America, the Volunteers who would fain free Greece from the yoke of the Turk,^[7] all fought to the death beneath the banners that fair sympathisers with them, and with their cause, placed in their hands. When two great nations, such as France and Germany, fall to blows, the whole armament, weapons, flags, and whatever else may be necessary, is supplied from the government stores according to regulation pattern, but in the case of insurgents against authority struggling—rightly or wrongly—to be free, the weapons may be scythe blades or whatever else comes first to hand, while the standards borne to the field will bear the most extraordinary devices upon them, devices that appeal powerfully at the time to those fighting beneath their folds, but which give a shudder to the purist in heraldic blazonry, as for instance, to quote but one example, the rattle-snake flag with its motto "Beware how you tread on me," adopted by the North American colonists in their struggle against the troops of George III.

When a knight had performed on the field of battle some especially valiant or meritorious act, it was open to the Sovereign to mark his sense of it by making him a knight-banneret. Thus, in the reign of Edward III., John de Copeland was made a banneret for his service in taking prisoner David Bruce, the King of Scotland, at the battle of Durham; Colonel John Smith, having rescued the royal banner from the Parliamentarians at Edgehill, was in like manner made a knight-banneret by Charles I. The title does not seem to have been in existence before the reign of Edward I., and after this bestowal by Charles I. we hear no more of it till 1743, when the title was conferred upon several English officers by the king, George II., upon the field of Dettingen. It was an essential condition that the rank should be bestowed by the Sovereign on the actual field of battle and beneath the royal banner. General Sir William Erskine was given this rank by George III. on his return from the Continent in 1764, after the battle of Emsdorff; but as the investiture took place beneath the standard of the 15th Light Dragoons and in Hyde Park, it was deemed hopelessly irregular, and, the royal will and action notwithstanding, his rank was not generally recognised.

The ceremony of investiture was in the earlier days a very simple one. The flag of the ordinary knight was of the form known as the pennon—a small, swallow-tailed flag like that borne by our lancer regiments, of which Fig. 30 is an illustration. On being summoned to the royal presence, the king took from him his lance, and either cut or tore away the points of his flag, until he had reduced it roughly to banner form, and then returned it to him with such words of commendation as the occasion called for. What the ceremony employed at so late a period as Dettingen was we have not been able to trace. As the officers there honoured were lanceless and pennonless, it is evident that the formula which served in the Middle Ages was quite inapplicable, but it is equally evident that in the thronging duties and responsibilities of the field of battle the ceremony must always have been a very short and simple one.

The term Standard is appropriately applied to any flag of noble size that answers in the main to the following conditions—that it should always have the Cross of St. George placed next to the staff, that the rest of the flag should be divided horizontally into two or more stripes of colours, these being the prevailing colours in the arms of the bearers or their livery colours, the edge of the standard richly fringed or bordered, the motto and badges of the owner introduced, the length considerably in excess of the breadth, the ends split and rounded off. We find such standards in use chiefly during the fifteenth century, though some characteristic examples of both earlier and later dates may be encountered. Figs. 14 and 15 are very good typical illustrations. The first of these (Fig. 14) is the Percy standard. The blue lion, the crescent, and the fetterlock there seen are all badges of the family, while the silver key betokens matrimonial alliance with the Poynings,^[8] the bugle-horn with the Bryans,^[9] and the falchion with the family of Fitzpayne. The ancient badge of the Percys was the white lion statant. Our readers will doubtless be familiar with the lines—

"Who, in field or foray slack,

Saw the blanch lion e'er give back?"

but Henry Percy, the fifth earl, 1489 to 1577, turned it into a blue one. The silver crescent is the only badge of the family that has remained in active and continuous use, and we find frequent references to it in the old ballads—so full of interesting heraldic allusions—as, for instance, in "The Rising of the North"—

"Erle Percy there his ancyent spred,

The halfe-moon shining all soe faire,"

and in Claxton's "Lament"—

"Now the Percy's crescent is set in blood."

The motto is ordinarily a very important part of the standard, though it is occasionally missing. Its less or greater length or its possible repetition may cut up the surface of the flag into a varying number of spaces. The first space after the cross is always occupied by the most important badge, and in a few cases the spaces beyond are empty.

The motto of the Percys is of great historic interest. It is referred to by Shakespeare, "Now Esperance! Percy! and set on," and we find in Drayton the line, "As still the people cried, A Percy, Esperance!" In the "Mirror for Magistrates" (1574) we read, "Add therefore this to Esperance, my word, who causeth bloodshed shall not 'scape the sword." It was originally the war-cry of the Percys, but it has undergone several modifications, and these of a rather curious and interesting nature, since we see in the sequence a steady advance from blatant egotism to an admission of a higher power even than that of Percy. The war-cry of the first Earl was originally, "Percy! Percy!" but he later substituted for it, "Esperance, Percy." The second and third Earls took merely "Esperance," the fourth took "Esperance, ma comfort," and, later on, "Esperance en Dieu ma comfort," and the fifth and succeeding Earls took the "Esperance en Dieu."^[10]

Fig. 15 is the standard of Sir Thomas de Swynnerton. The swine is an example of the punning allusion to the bearer's name that is so often seen in the charges of mediæval heraldry.

Figs. 14 and 15 are typical standards, having the cross of St. George, the striping of colours, the oblique lines of motto, the elongated tapering form, and all the other features that we have already quoted as belonging to the ideal standard, though one or two of these may at times be absent. Thus, though exceptions are rare, a standard is not necessarily particoloured for example, and, as we have seen, the motto in other examples may be missing. The Harleian MS. No. 2,358 lays down the rule that "every Standard or guydhome is to hang in the Chiefe the Crosse of St. George, to be slitte at the ende, and to conteyne the crest or supporter, with the poesy, worde, and devise of the owner." That the Cross of St. George, the national badge, must always be present and in the most honourable position is full of significance, as it means that whatever else of rank or family the bearer might be, he was first and foremost an Englishman.

Figs. 13 and 16 are interesting modern examples of the Standard. They are from a series of sledge-flags used during the Arctic Expedition of 1875-6, the devices upon them being those of the officers in charge of each detachment.

When in earlier days a man raised a regiment for national defence, he not only commanded it, but its flag often bore his arms or device. Thus the standard of the dragoons raised by Henry, Lord Cardross, in 1689 was of red silk, on which was represented the Colonel's crest, a hand holding a dagger, and the motto "Fortitudine," while in the upper corner next the staff was the thistle of Scotland, surmounted by the crown.

Our readers should now have no difficulty in sketching out for themselves as an exercise the following: The standard of Henry V., white and blue, a white antelope standing between four red roses; the motto "Dieu et mon droit," and in the interspaces more red roses. The standard of Richard II., white and green, a white hart couchant between four golden suns, the motto "Dieu et mon droit," in the next space two golden suns, and in the next, four. As further exercises, we may give the standard of Sir John Awdeley, of gold and scarlet, having a Moor's head and three white butterflies, the motto "Je le tiens," then two butterflies, then four; and the standard of Frogmorton, of four stripes of red and white, having an elephant's head in black, surrounded by golden crescents. While no one, either monarch or noble, could have more than one banner, since this was composed of his heraldic arms, a thing fixed and unchangeable, the same individual might have two or three standards, since these were mainly made up of badges that he could multiply at discretion, and a motto or poesy that he might change every day if he chose. Hence, for instance, the standards of Henry VII. were mostly green and white, since these were the Tudor livery colours; but in one was "a red firye dragon," and in another "was peinted a donne kowe," while yet another had a silver greyhound between red roses. Stowe and other authorities tell us that the two first of these were borne at Bosworth Field, and that after his victory there over Richard III. these were borne by him in solemn state to St. Paul's Cathedral, and there deposited on his triumphal entry into the metropolis.

The difference between the standard and the banner is very clearly seen in the description of the flags borne at the funeral obsequies of Queen Elizabeth—"the great embroidered banner of England" (Fig. 22), the banners of Wales, Ireland, Chester, and Cornwall, and the standards of the dragon, greyhound, and falcon. In like manner Stowe tells us that when King Henry VII. took the field in 1513, he had with him the standard with the red dragon and the banner of the arms of England, and Machyn tells that at the funeral of Edward VI., "furst of all whent a grett company of chylderyn in ther surples and clarkes syngyng and then ij harolds, and then a standard with a dragon, and then a grett nombur of ye servants in blake, and then anoder standard with a whyt greyhound." Later on in the procession came "ye grett baner of armes in brodery and with dyvers odere baners."

Standards varied in size according to the rank of the person entitled to them. A MS. of the time of Henry VII. gives the following dimensions:—For that of the king, a length of eight yards; for a duke, seven; for an earl, six; a marquis, six and a half; a viscount, five and a half; a baron, five; a knight banneret, four and a half; and for a knight, four yards. In view of these figures one can easily realise the derivation of the word standard—a thing that is meant to stand; to be rather fastened in the ground as a rallying point than carried, like a banner, about the field of action.

At the funeral of Nelson we find his banner of arms and standard borne in the procession, while around his coffin are the bannerolls, square banner-like flags bearing the various arms of his family lineage. We see these latter again in an old print of the funeral procession of General Monk, in 1670, and in a still older print of the burial of Sir Philip Sydney, four of his near kindred carrying by the coffin these indications of his descent. At the funeral of Queen Elizabeth we find six bannerolls of alliances on the paternal side and six on the maternal. The standard of Nelson bears his motto, "Palmam qui meruit ferat," but instead of the Cross of St. George it has the union of the crosses of St. George, St. Andrew, and St. Patrick, since in 1806, the year of his funeral, the England of mediæval days had expanded into the Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. In the imposing funeral procession of the great Duke of Wellington we find again amongst the flags not only the national flag, regimental colours, and other insignia, but the ten bannerolls of the Duke's pedigree and descent, and his personal banner and standard.

Richard, Earl of Salisbury, in the year 1458, ordered that at his interment "there be banners, standards, and other accoutrements, according as was usual for a person of his degree" and what was then held fitting, remains, in the case of State funerals, equally so at the present day.

The Pennon is a small, narrow flag, forked or swallow-tailed at its extremity. This was carried on the lance. Our readers will recall the knight in "Marmion," who

"On high his forky pennon bore,

Like swallow's tail in shape and hue."

We read in the Roll of Karlaverok, as early as the year 1300, of

"Many a beautiful pennon fixed to a lance,

And many a banner displayed;"

and of the knight in Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales," we hear that

"By hys bannere borne is hys pennon

Of golde full riche."

The pennon bore the arms of the knight, and they were in the earlier days of chivalry so emblazoned upon it as to appear in their proper position not when the lance was held erect but when held horizontally for the charge. The earliest brass now extant, that of Sir John Daubernoun, at Stoke d'Abernon Church, in Surrey, represents the knight as bearing a lance with pennon. Its date is 1277, and the device is a golden chevron on a field of azure. In this example the pennon, instead of being forked, comes to a single point.

The pennon was the ensign of those knights who were not bannerets, and the bearers of it were therefore sometimes called pennonciers; the term is derived from the Latin word for a feather, penna, from the narrow, elongated form. The pennons of our lancer regiments (Fig. 30) give one a good idea of the form, size, and general effect of the ancient knightly pennon, though they do not bear distinctive charges upon them, and thus fail in one notable essential to recall to our minds the brilliant blazonry and variety of device that must have been so marked and effective a feature when the knights of old took the field. In a drawing of the year 1813, of the Royal Horse Artillery, we find the men armed with lances, and these with pennons of blue and white, as we see in Fig. 31.^[11]

Of the thirty-seven pennons borne on lances by various knights represented in the Bayeux tapestry, twenty-eight have triple points, while others have two, four, or five. The devices upon these pennons are very various and distinctive, though the date is before the period of the definite establishment of heraldry. Examples of these may be seen in Figs. 39, 40, 41, 42.

The pennoncelle, or pencel, is a diminutive of the pennon, small as that itself is. Such flags were often supplied in large quantities at any special time of rejoicing or of mourning. At the burial in the year 1554 of "the nobull Duke of Norffok," we note amongst other items "a dosen of banerolles of ys progene," a standard, a "baner of damaske, and xij dosen penselles." At the burial of Sir William Goring we find "ther was viij dosen of penselles," while at the Lord Mayor's procession in 1555 we read that there were "ij goodly pennes [State barges] deckt with flages and stremers and a m penselles." This "m," or thousand, we can perhaps scarcely take literally, though in another instance we find "the cordes were hanged with innumerable pencelles."^[12]

The statement of the cost of the funeral of Oliver Cromwell is interesting, as we see therein the divers kinds of flags that graced the ceremony. The total cost of the affair was over £28,000, and the unhappy undertaker, a Mr. Rolt, was paid very little, if any, of his bill. The items include "six gret banners wrought on rich taffaty in oil, and gilt with fine gold," at £6 each. Five large standards, similarly wrought, at a cost of £10 each; six dozen pennons, a yard long, at a sovereign each; forty trumpet banners, at forty shillings apiece; thirty dozen of pennoncelles, a foot long, at twenty shillings a dozen; and twenty dozen ditto at twelve shillings the dozen. Poor Rolt!

In "the accompte and reckonyng" for the Lord Mayor's Show of 1617 we find "payde to Jacob Challoner, painter, for a greate square banner, the Prince's Armes, the somme of seven pounds." We also find, "More to him for the new payntyng and guyldyng of ten trumpet banners, for payntyng and guyldyng of two long pennons of the Lord Maior's armes on callicoe," and many other items that we need not set down, the total cost of the flag department being £67 15s. 10d., while for the Lord Mayor's Show of the year 1685 we find that the charge for this item was the handsome sum of £140.

The Pennant, or pendant, is a long narrow flag with pointed end, and derives its name from the Latin word signifying to hang. Examples of it may be seen in Figs. 20, 21, 23, 24, 36, 38, 100, 101, 102, and 103, and some of the flags employed in ship-signalling are also of pennant form. It was in Tudor times called the streamer. Though such a flag may at times be found pressed into the service of city pageantry, it is more especially adapted for use at sea, since the lofty mast, the open space far removed from telegraph-wires, chimney-pots, and such-like hindrances to its free course, and the crisp sea-breeze to boldly extend it to its full length, are all essential to its due display. When we once begin to extend in length, it is evident that almost anything is possible: the pendant of a modern man-of-war is some twenty yards long, while its breadth is barely six inches, and it is evident that such a flag as that would scarcely get a fair chance in the general "survival of the fittest" in Cheapside. It is charged at the head with the Cross of St. George. Figs. 26, 27, 74 are Tudor examples of such pendants, while Fig. 140 is a portion at least of the pendant flown by colonial vessels on war service, while under the same necessarily abbreviated conditions may be seen in Fig. 151 the pendant of the United States Navy, in 157 that of Chili, and in 173 that of Brazil.

In mediæval days many devices were introduced, the streamer being made of sufficient width to allow of their display. Thus Dugdale gives an account of the fitting up of the ship in which Beauchamp, fifth Earl of Warwick, during the reign of Henry VI., went over to France. The original bill between this nobleman and William Seburgh, "citizen and payntour of London," is still extant, and we see from it that amongst other things provided was "the grete stremour for the shippe xl yardes in length and viij yardes in brede." These noble dimensions gave ample room for display of the badge of the Warwicks,^[13] so we find it at the head adorned with "a grete bere holding a ragged staffe," and the rest of its length "powdrid full of raggid staves,"

"A stately ship,

With all her bravery on, and tackle trim,

Sails filled, and streamers waving."

Machyn tells us in his diary for August 3rd, 1553, how "The Queen came riding to London, and so on to the Tower, makyng her entry at Aldgate, and a grett nombur of stremars hanging about the sayd gate, and all the strett unto Leydenhalle and unto the Tower were layd with graffel, and all the crafts of London stood with their banars and stremars hangyd over their heds." In the picture by Volpe in the collection at Hampton Court of the Embarkation of Henry VIII. from Dover in the year 1520, to meet Francis I. at the Field of the Cloth of Gold, we find, very naturally, a great variety and display of flags of all kinds. Figs. 20, 21, 23 are streamers therein depicted, the portcullis, Tudor rose, and fleur-de-lys being devices of the English king, while the particular ground upon which they are displayed is in each case made up of green and white, the Tudor livery colours. We may see these again in Fig. 71, where the national flag of the Cross of St. George has its white field barred with the Tudor green. In the year 1554 even the naval uniform of England was white and green, both for officers and mariners, and the City trained bands had white coats welted with green. Queen Elizabeth, though of the Tudor race, took scarlet and black as her livery colours; the House of Plantaganet white and red; of York, murrey and blue; of Lancaster, white and blue; of Stuart, red and yellow. The great nobles each also had their special liveries; thus in a grand review of troops on Blackheath, on May 16th, 1552, we find that "the Yerle of Pembroke and ys men of armes" had "cotes blake bordered with whyt," while the retainers of the Lord Chamberlain were in red and white, those of the Earl of Huntingdon in blue, and so forth.

In the description of one of the City pageants in honour of Henry VII. we find among the "baggs" (i.e., badges), "a rede rose and a wyght in his mydell, golde floures de luces, and portcullis also in golde," the "wallys" of the Pavilion whereon these were displayed being "chekkyrs of whyte and grene."

The only other flag form to which we need make any very definite reference is the Guidon. The word is derived from the French guide-homme, but in the lax spelling of mediæval days it undergoes many perversions, such as guydhome, guydon, gytton, geton, and such-like more or less barbarous renderings. Guidon is the regulation name now applied to the small standards borne by the squadrons of some of our cavalry regiments. The Queen's guidon is borne by the first squadron; this is always of crimson silk; the others are the colour of the regimental facings. The modern cavalry guidon is square in form, and richly embroidered, fringed, and tasselled. A mediæval writer on the subject lays down the law that "a guydhome must be two and a half yardes or three yardes longe, and therein shall be no armes putt, but only the man's crest, cognizance, and device, and from that, from his standard or streamer a man may flee; but not from his banner or pennon bearinge his armes." The guidon is largely employed at State or ceremonious funeral processions; we see it borne, for instance, in the illustrations of the funeral of Monk in 1670, of Nelson in 1806, of Wellington in 1852. In all these cases it is rounded in form, as in Fig. 28. Like the standard, the guidon bears motto and device, but it is smaller, and has not the elongated form, nor does it bear the Cross of St. George.

In divers countries and periods very diverse forms may be encountered, and to these various names have been assigned, but it is needless to pursue their investigation at any length, as in some cases the forms are quite obsolete; in other cases, while its form is known to us its name is lost, while in yet other instances we have various old names of flags mentioned by the chroniclers and poets to which we are unable now to assign any very definite notion of their form. In some cases, again, the form we encounter may be of some eccentric individuality that no man ever saw before, or ever wants to see again, or, as in Fig. 33, so slightly divergent from ordinary type as to scarcely need a distinctive name. One of the flags represented in the Bayeux tapestry is semi-circular. Fig. 32 defies classification, unless we regard it as a pennon that, by snipping, has travelled three-quarters of the way towards being a banner. Fig. 35, sketched from a MS. of the early part of the fourteenth century, in the British Museum, is of somewhat curious and abnormal form. It is of religious type, and bears the Agnus Dei. The original is in a letter of Philippe de Mezières, pleading for peace and friendship between Charles VI. of France and Richard II. of England.

Flags are nowadays ordinarily made of bunting, a woollen fabric which, from the nature of its texture and its great toughness and durability, is particularly fitted to stand wear and tear. It comes from the Yorkshire mills in pieces of forty yards in length, while the width varies from four to thirty-six inches. Flags are only printed when of small size, and when a sufficient number will be required to justify the expense of cutting the blocks. Silk is also used, but only for special purposes.

Flag-devising is really a branch of heraldry, and should be in accordance with its laws, both in the forms and the colours introduced. Yellow in blazonry is the equivalent of gold, and white of silver, and it is one of the requirements of heraldry that colour should not be placed upon colour, nor metal on metal. Hence the red and blue in the French tricolour (Fig. 191) are separated by white; the black and red of Belgium (Fig. 236) by yellow. Such unfortunate combinations as the yellow, blue, red, of Venezuela (Fig. 170); the yellow, red, green of Bolivia (Fig. 171); the red and blue of Hayti (Fig. 178); the white and yellow of Guatemala (Fig. 162), are violations of the rule in countries far removed from the influence of heraldic law. This latter instance is a peculiarly interesting one; it is the flag of Guatemala in 1851, while in 1858 this was changed to that represented in Fig. 163. In the first case the red and the blue are in contact, and the white and the yellow; while in the second the same colours are introduced, but with due regard to heraldic law, and certainly with far more pleasing effect.

One sees the same obedience to this rule in the special flags used for signalling, where great clearness of definition at considerable distances is an essential. Such combinations as blue and black, red and blue, yellow and white, carry their own condemnation with them, as anyone may test by actual experiment; stripes of red and blue, for instance, at a little distance blending into purple, while white and yellow are too much alike in strength, and when the yellow has become a little faded and the white a little dingy they appear almost identical. We have this latter combination in Fig. 198, the flag of the now vanished Papal States. It is a very uncommon juxtaposition, and only occurs in this case from a special religious symbolism into which we need not here enter. The alternate red and green stripes in Fig. 63 are another violation of the rule, and have a very confusing effect.^[14]

The colours of by far the greatest frequency of occurrence are red, white, and blue; yellow also is not uncommon; orange is only found once, in Fig. 249, where it has a special significance, since this is the flag of the Orange Free State. Green occurs sparingly. Italy (Fig. 197) is perhaps the best known example. We also find it in the Brazilian flag (Fig. 169), the Mexican (Fig. 172), in the Hungarian tricolor (Fig. 214), and in Figs. 199, 201, 209, the flags of smaller German States, but it is more especially associated with Mohammedan States, as in Figs. 58, 63, 64, 235. Black is found but seldom, but as heraldic requirements necessitate that it should be combined either with white or yellow, it is, when seen, exceptionally brilliant and effective. We see it, for example, in the Royal Standard of Spain, (Fig. 194), in Figs. 207 and 208, flags of the German Empire, in Fig. 226, the Imperial Standard of Russia, and in Fig. 236, the brilliant tricolor of the Belgians.^[15]

In orthodox flags anything of the nature of an inscription is very seldom seen. We find a reference to order and progress on the Brazilian flag (Fig. 169), while the Turkish Imperial Standard (Fig. 238) bears on its scarlet folds the monogram of the Sultan; but these exceptions are rare.^[16] We have seen that, on the contrary, on the flags of insurgents and malcontents the inscription often counts for much. On the alteration of the style in the year 1752 this necessary change was made the subject of much ignorant reproach of the government of the day, and was used as a weapon of party warfare. An amusing instance of this feeling occurs in the first plate of Hogarth's election series, where a malcontent, or perhaps only a man anxious to earn a shilling, carries a big flag inscribed, "Give us back our eleven days." The flags of the Covenanters often bore mottoes or texts. Fig. 34 is a curious example: the flag hoisted by the crew of H.M.S. Niger when they opposed the mutineers in 1797 at Sheerness. It is preserved in the Royal United Service Museum. It is, as we have seen, ordinarily the insubordinate and rebellious who break out into inscriptions of more or less piety or pungency, but we may conclude that the loyal sailors fighting under the royal flag adopted this device in addition as one means the more of fighting the rebels with their own weapons.

During the Civil War between the Royalists and Parliamentarians, we find a great use made of flags inscribed with mottoes. Thus, on one we see five hands stretching at a crown defended by an armed hand issuing from a cloud, and the motto, "Reddite Cæsari." In another we see an angel with a flaming sword treading a dragon underfoot, and the motto, "Quis ut Deus," while yet another is inscribed, "Courage pour la Cause." On a fourth we find an ermine, and the motto, "Malo mori quam fœdari"—"It is better to die than to be sullied," in allusion to the old belief that the ermine would die rather than soil its fur. Hence it is the emblem of purity and stainless honour.

The blood-red flag is the symbol of mutiny and of revolution. As a sign of disaffection it was twice, at the end of last century, displayed in the Royal Navy. A mutiny broke out at Portsmouth in April, 1797, for an advance of pay; an Act of Parliament was passed to sanction the increase of expenditure, and all who were concerned in it received the royal pardon, but in June of the same year, at Sheerness, the spirit of disaffection broke out afresh, and on its suppression the ringleaders were executed. It is characteristic that, aggrieved as these seamen were against the authorities, when the King's birthday came round, on June 4th, though the mutiny was then at its height, the red flags were lowered, the vessels gaily dressed in the regulation bunting, and a royal salute was fired. Having thus demonstrated their real loyalty to their sovereign, the red flags were re-hoisted, and the dispute with the Admiralty resumed in all its bitterness.

The white flag is the symbol of amity and of good will; of truce amidst strife, and of surrender when the cause is lost. The yellow flag betokens infectious illness, and is displayed when there is cholera, yellow fever, or such like dangerous malady on board ship, and it is also hoisted on quarantine stations. The black flag signifies mourning and death; one of its best known uses in these later days is to serve as an indication after an execution that the requirements of the law have been duly carried out.

Honour and respect are expressed by "dipping" the flag. At any parade of troops before the sovereign the regimental flags are lowered as they pass the saluting point, and at sea the colours are dipped by hauling them smartly down from the mast-head and then promptly replacing them. They must not be suffered to remain at all stationary when lowered, as a flag flying half-mast high is a sign of mourning for death, for defeat, or for some other national loss, and it is scarcely a mark of honour or respect to imply that the arrival of the distinguished person is a cause of grief or matter for regret.

In time of peace it is an insult to hoist the flag of one friendly nation above another, so that each flag must be flown from its own staff.

Even as early as the reign of Alfred England claimed the sovereignty of the seas. Edward III. is more identified with our early naval glories than any other English king; he was styled "King of the Seas," a name of which he appears to have been very proud, and in his coinage of gold nobles he represented himself with shield and sword, and standing in a ship "full royally apparelled." He fought on the seas under many disadvantages of numbers and ships: in one instance until his ship sank under him, and at all times as a gallant Englishman.

If any commander of an English vessel met the ship of a foreigner, and the latter refused to salute the English flag, it was enacted that such ship, if taken, was the lawful prize of the captain. A very notable example of this punctilious insistance on the respect to the flag arose in May, 1554, when a Spanish fleet of one hundred and sixty sail, escorting the King on his way to England to his marriage with Queen Mary, fell in with the English fleet under the command of Lord Howard, Lord High Admiral. Philip would have passed the English fleet without paying the customary honours, but the signal was at once made by Howard for his twenty-eight ships to prepare for action, and a round shot crashed into the side of the vessel of the Spanish Admiral. The hint was promptly taken, and the whole Spanish fleet struck their colours as homage to the English flag.

In the year 1635 the combined fleets of France and Holland determined to dispute this claim of Great Britain, but on announcing their intention of doing so an English fleet was at once dispatched, whereupon they returned to their ports and decided that discretion was preferable even to valour. In 1654, on the conclusion of peace between England and Holland, the Dutch consented to acknowledge the English supremacy of the seas, the article in the treaty declaring that "the ships of the Dutch—as well ships of war as others—meeting any of the ships of war of the English, in the British seas, shall strike their flags and lower their topsails in such manner as hath ever been at any time heretofore practised." After another period of conflict it was again formally yielded by the Dutch in 1673.

Political changes are responsible for many variations in flags, and the wear and tear of Time soon renders many of the devices obsolete. On turning, for instance, to Nories' "Maritime Flags of all Nations," a little book published in 1848, many of the flags are at once seen to be now out of date. The particular year was one of exceptional political agitation, and the author evidently felt that his work was almost old-fashioned even on its issue. "The accompanying illustrations," he says, "having been completed prior to the recent revolutionary movements on the Continent of Europe, it has been deemed expedient to issue the plate in its present state, rather than adopt the various tri-coloured flags, which cannot be regarded as permanently established in the present unsettled state of political affairs." The Russian American Company's flag, Fig. 59, that of the States of the Church, of the Kingdom of Sardinia, the Turkish Imperial Standard, Fig. 64, and many others that he gives, are all now superseded. For Venice he gives two flags, that for war and that for the merchant service. In each case the flag is scarlet, having a broad band of blue, which we may take to typify the sea, near its lower edge. From this rises in gold the winged lion of St. Mark, having in the war ensign a sword in his right paw, and in the peaceful colours of commerce a cross. Of thirty-five "flags of all nations," given as a supplement to the Illustrated London News in 1858, we note that eleven are now obsolete: the East India Company, for instance, being now extinct, the Ionian Islands ceded to Greece, Tuscany and Naples absorbed into Italy, and so forth.

In Figs. 52 and 53 we have examples of early Spanish flags, and in 54 and 55 of Portuguese, each and all being taken from a very quaint map of the year 1502. This map may be said to be practically the countries lying round the Atlantic Ocean, giving a good slice of Africa, a portion of the Mediterranean basin, the British Isles, most of South America, a little of North America, the West Indies,^[17] etc., the object of the map being to show the division that Pope Alexander VI. kindly made between those faithful daughters of the Church—Spain and Portugal—of all the unclaimed portions of the world. Figs. 52 and 53 are types of flags flying on various Spanish possessions, while Figs. 54 and 55 are placed at different points on the map where Portugal held sway. On one place in Africa we see that No. 54 is surmounted by a white flag bearing the Cross of St. George, so we may conclude that—Pope Alexander notwithstanding—England captured it from the Portuguese. At one African town we see the black men dancing round the Portuguese flag, while a little way off three of their brethren are hanging on a gallows, showing that civilization had set in with considerable severity there. The next illustration on this plate (Fig. 56) is taken from a sheet of flags published in 1735; it represents the "Guiny Company's Ensign," a trading company, like the East India, Fig. 57, now no longer in existence. Fig. 62 is the flag of Savoy, an ancient sovereignty that, within the memory of many of our readers, has expanded into the kingdom of Italy. The break up of the Napoleonic régime in France, the crushing out of the Confederate States in North America, the dismissal from the throne of the Emperor of Brazil, have all, within comparatively recent years, led to the superannuation and disestablishment of a goodly number of flags and their final disappearance.

We propose now to deal with the flags of the various nationalities, commencing, naturally, with those of our own country. We were told by a government official that the Universal Code of signals issued by England had led to a good deal of heartburning, as it is prefaced by a plate of the various national flags, the Union Flag of Great Britain and Ireland being placed first. But until some means can be devised by which each nationality can head the list, some sort of precedence seems inevitable. At first sight it seems as though susceptibilities might be saved by adopting an alphabetical arrangement, but this is soon found to be a mistake, as it places such powerful States as Russia and the United States nearly at the bottom of the list. A writer, Von Rosenfeld, who published a book on flags in Vienna in 1853, very naturally adopted this arrangement, but the calls of patriotism would not even then allow him to be quite consistent, since he places his material as follows:—Austria, Annam, Argentine, Belgium, Bolivia, and so forth, where it is evident Annam should lead the world and Austria be content to come in third. Apart from the difficulty of asking Spain, for instance, to admit that Bulgaria was so much in front of her, or to expect Japan to allow China so great a precedence as the alphabetical arrangement favours, a second obstacle is found in the fact that the names of these various States as we Englishmen know them are not in many cases those by which they know themselves or are known by others. Thus a Frenchman would be quite content with the alphabetical arrangement that in English places his beloved country before Germany, but the Teuton would at once claim precedence, declaring that Deutschland must come before "la belle France," and the Espagnol would not see why he should be banished to the back row just because we choose to call him a Spaniard.

In the meantime, pending the Millenium, the flag that more than three hundred millions of people, the wide world over, look up to as the symbol of justice and liberty, will serve very well as a starting point, and then the great Daughter across the Western Ocean, that sprung from the Old Home, shall claim a worthy place next in our regard. The Continent of Europe must clearly come next, and such American nationalities as lie outside the United States, together with Asia and Africa, will bring up the rear.