are seen rolling together in the ditch; and, lastly, the ultra-grotesque
tableaux of stripping the wounded after the battle.

The borders on the latter part of the tapestry (part of which we have
shewn in the illustration) consist of incidents connected with the
battle, and add greatly to its interest. Some of the earlier scenes are
very amusing, having evidently been suggested by the fables of Æsop and
Phædrus; there are griffins, dragons, serpents, dogs, elephants, lions,
birds, and monsters that suggest a knowledge of pre-Adamite life (some
biting their own tails, or putting their heads into their neighbours'
mouths), interspersed with representations of ploughing, and hunting,
and of killing birds with a sling and a stone.[22]

The most striking thing about the tapestry is the charming freshness and
_naïveté_ with which the scenes and characters are depicted. The artist
who designed it did not draw figures particularly well, he was ignorant
of perspective, and all principles of colouring; but he gave, in his own
way, expression to his faces, and attitudes which tell their story even
without the help of the latin inscriptions which accompany them. Shade
is often represented by colour, and that not always strictly in
accordance with nature; thus, a red horse will be represented with one
leg worked in blue, and so on; the faces and naked limbs of the warriors
being worked in green or yellow, or left white, apparently as was found
most convenient by the ladies of the time.

Whether Queen Matilda, or the ladies of her court, ever really worked
the tapestry (there is good reason to doubt that she designed the
borders) is a question of so little importance, that it is wonderful so
much discussion has been raised upon it; it is surely enough for us to
know that it was worked soon after the Conquest. There is evidence of