The Dalmatic of Charlemagne is given by Louis Farcy to the twelfth century.  He calls it the Dalmatic of Leo III.  But Lady Alford claims for this work a greater antiquity.  Certainly, as one studies its details, one is convinced that it is not quite a Gothic work, nor yet is it Byzantine; for the figures have all the grace of Greek work prior to the age of Byzantine stiffness.  It is embroidered chiefly in gold, on a delicate bluish satin ground, and has not been transferred, although it has been carefully restored.  The central ornament on the front is a circular composition, and the arrangement of the figures both here and on the back suggests that Sir Edward Burne Jones must have made a study of this magnificent dalmatic, from which it would seem that much of his inspiration might have been drawn.  The composition is singularly restful and rhythmical.  The little black outlines to the white silk faces, and to the glowing figures, give this work a peculiarly decorative quality, not often seen in other embroideries of the period.  It is unique and one of the most valuable examples of its art in the world.  It is now in the Treasury of the Vatican.  When Charlemagne sang the Gospel at High Mass on the day of his Coronation, this was his vestment.  It must have been a strangely gorgeous sight when Cola di Rienzi, according to Lord Lindsay, took this dalmatic, and placed it over his armour, and, with his crown and truncheon, ascended to the palace of the Popes!

A very curious Italian piece of the fourteenth century is an altar frontal, on which the subjects introduced are strange.  It displays scenes from the life of St. Ubaldo, with some incidents also in that of St. Julian Hospitaler.  St. Ubaldo is seen forgiving a mason who, having run a wall across his private grounds, had knocked the saint down for remonstrating.  Another scene shows the death bed of the saint, and the conversion of a possessed man at the foot of the bed:  a lady is throwing her arms above her head in astonishment while the evil spirit flies from its victim into the air.  Later, the saint is seen going to the grave in a cart drawn by oxen.

[Illustration:  DALMATIC OF CHARLEMAGNE]

The peacock was symbolical both of knightly vigilance and of Christian watchfulness.  An old Anglo-Norman, Osmont, writes:  “The eye-speckled feathers should warn a man that never too often can he have his eyes wide open, and gaze inwardly upon his own heart.”  These dear people were so introspective and self-conscious, always looking for trouble—­in their own motives, even—­that no doubt many good impulses perished unnoticed, while the originator was chasing mental phantoms of heresy and impurity.