The extension of the Church into more northern and colder regions, and the importation of foreign customs into the southern metropolis itself, probably suggested the transformation of the somewhat scanty sandal into a more appropriate and more comfortable shoe. The traditions of the old custom were, however, long maintained in a curious way: the upper leathers of the shoe were fenestrated or cut into open-work patterns, the result being that the bare surface of the foot showed through and displayed the decoration in light flesh-tint against the dark leather of the shoe. When the episcopal stocking was added to the equipment of the bishop, the colour became bright scarlet, though the effect remained much the same.
The fenestrated sandals were abandoned about the fourteenth century in favour of shoes, in shape very much resembling the modern ankle-shoe. It would have been inconsistent, however, with the spirit of the fourteenth century to have abandoned the decorative effect produced by the open-work, and neglected to find some substitute. This substitute was found in lavish embroidery and in ornamentation with jewels and spangles of gold. The sandals, in fact, became as elaborate as did the rest of the ecclesiastical vestments.
The sandals, as above described, were worn by bishops only, at the Eucharistic service. Deacons and priests appear to have worn simple everyday shoes, without ornamentation of any kind. The fenestrated shoes (which were popular among the dandies of the day as well as consecrated to the bishops) were expressly forbidden to them, as also were coloured shoes, or shoes of the preposterous shapes occasionally in vogue among the laity of the middle ages.
[Illustration: FIG. 11.—BISHOP WAYNFLETE'S EPISCOPAL SANDAL.]
'As the sandals partly cover the feet and leave them partly bare,' says Rabanus, 'so the teachers of the Gospel should reveal part of the Gospel and should hide the rest, that the faithful and pious may have enough knowledge thereof, and the infidel and despiser may find no matter for blasphemy. And this kind of shoe warns us likewise that we should have a care to our flesh and our bodies in matters of necessity, not in matters of lust.'
Amalarius of Metz enters into further details, incidentally touching on some points of difference which obtained between the sandal of the bishop and that of the priest in his day—the first half of the ninth century. The following is a translation of his words: