Later, our trade with the South of Spain and the Moors there, led us to call such words on woven stuffs Moorish, as we find in old documents, thus Joane Lady Bergavenny bequeaths (A.D. 1434) a "hullyng (hangings for a hall) of black, red, and green, with morys letters, &c."[1]
The weaving of letters in textiles is neither a Moorish, nor Saracenic invention; ages before, the ancient Parthians used to do so, as we learn from Pliny: "Parthi literas vestibus intexunt." A curious illustration of silken stuffs so frequently bearing letters, borrowed in general from some real or supposed oriental alphabet, is the custom which many of the illuminators had of figuring very often on frontals and altar canopies, made of silk, meaningless words; and the artists of Italy up to the middle of the sixteenth century did the same on the hems of the garments worn by great personages, in their paintings. On the inscribed textiles here, the real or pretended Arabic sentence is written twice on the same line, once forwards, once backwards.
The Eagle,
single and double-headed, may frequently be found in the patterns of old silks. In all ages certain birds of prey have been looked upon by heathens as ominous for good or evil. Of this our own country affords us a mournful example. Upon the standard which was carried at the head of the Danish masters of Northumbria was figured the raven, the bird of Odin. This banner had been woven and worked by the daughters of Regnar Lodbrok, in one noontide's while; and those heathens believed that if victory was to follow, the raven would seem to stand erect, and as if about to soar before the warriors, but if a defeat was impending, the raven hung his head and drooped his wings; as we are told by Asser: "Pagani acceperunt illud vexillum quod Reafan nominant: dicunt enim quod tres sorores Hungari et Habbæ filiæ videlicet Lodebrochi illud vexillum texuerunt et totum paraverunt illud uno meridiano tempore: dicunt etiam quod, in omni bello ubi præcederet idem signum, si victoriam adepturi essent, appereret in medio signi quasi corvus vivens volitans: sin vero vincendi in futuro fuissent, penderet directe nihil movens."[2] Another and a more important flag, that which Harold and his Anglo-Saxons fought under and lost at Hastings, is described by Malmesbury as having been embroidered in gold, with the figure of a man in the act of fighting, and studded with precious stones, all done in sumptuous art:
