closed wing, the word displayed is redundant. De or a un egle de vert, said the ancient armorist, and the blazon was enough. The griffin follows the lion in his natural position which is rampant, in which case rampant is unnecessary, and we may disregard the armorists who have invented the word segreant for the ramping griffon.
The enthusiasm of word-making rose to strange heights when the later armorists approached the brute creation like spectacled Adams to find dog-latinisms for their every part and attribute. Birds of prey were to be armed and the other birds beaked and membered. Their wings were to be described as overt, inverted or disclosed. The common heraldic placing of fish as upright makes them hauriant, the swimming fish is natant and the diving fish urinant, though our Mr. Boutell, dreading ambiguities, spells it uriant. The dolphin must be qualified as embowed, although the arm painters never figured him otherwise. Griffons are segreant, horses are forcenée, grazing oxen are pascuant, and the wood wild boar is armed and unguled.
All such charges are peppered freely with the word 'proper,' a word of little or no value. Sable three swans is a complete blazon for a coat, it being to be guessed that the swans are in their usual colours, that is white, with red beaks and legs. Silver three corbies leaves no room for daubing the corbie with blue or red, and gold three Cornish choughs demands black birds with beaks and legs of red. The popinjay is green, and we are free to touch his poll and legs with red if we will. Trees and flowers, with the exception of roses, are of custom in the colours nature gave them, and nowhere arises the necessity for clapping 'proper' to a blazon. If something of the sort were necessary our own neglected language gives us a better phrase in 'after his kind' or 'of his kind.' Couped is another word of which we may be sparing when we deal with the heads of beasts or birds, as the fact of cutting squarely off is inferred whenever the word 'rased' is not employed. In all things the law cares nothing for little matters of detail. A man blazoning at his leisure may specify that his lion should be said to be langued and armed gules, but the artist may paint these ornaments gold or azure or leave them out altogether and yet not err, and the barbs and seeds of roses likewise follow the rules of the colour scheme and no others.
'No care for little matters' must be set before us as a clear
