Then there set in a flood of allegorical and fantastic absurdities, by which the fair domain of Heraldry was absolutely overwhelmed. Wild and strange speculations, in a truly vain philosophy, interwoven with distorted images of both the myths and the veritable records of classic antiquity, were either deduced from armorial blazonry, or set forth as the sources from whence it was developed. Fables and anecdotes, having reference to less remote eras, were produced in great variety and in copious abundance. The presence in blazon of animated beings of whatsoever kinds, whether real or fabulous, led to rambling disquisitions in the most ludicrously _un_natural of imaginary Natural History. From every variety also of inanimate figure and device, the simplest no less than the more elaborate, after the same fashion some “moral” was sought to be extracted. The technical language, too, of the early Heralds, had its expressive simplicity travestied by a complicated jargon, replete with marvellous assertions, absurd doctrines, covert allusions devoid of consistent significance, quaint and yet trivial conceits, and bombastic rhapsodies. Even the nomenclature of the Tinctures was not exempt from a characteristic course of “treatment,” two distinctive additional sets of titles for gold, silver, blue, red, &c., having been devised and substituted for those in general use (see Chapter V.); of these the one set was derived from the names of the _Planets_, and employed to emblazon the insignia of Sovereign Princes; and the other set, derived from the names of _Jewels_, was applied to the arms of Nobles. In the midst of all the rubbish, however, which they thus delighted to accumulate, there may generally be discovered in the works of writers of this class, here and there, references to earlier usages and illustrations of original principles which, in the extreme dearth of genuine early heraldic literature, are both interesting and of real value. Nor are these writings without their value, estimated from another point of view, as contemporaneous and unconscious commentaries upon the history of their own times. It must be added that, in more than a few instances, beneath the surface there lurks a vein of both political and personal allusion, of which the point and bearing now are altogether lost, or at the most are only open to conjecture and surmise. And, again, even in their most extravagant and frivolous lucubrations, the heraldic writers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries are not without touches of humour; as when Gerard Legh (A.D. 1562), discoursing of “beastes,” remarks of the “Ramme” that in “aucthoritye he is a Duke, for hee hath the leadyng of multitudes and flockes of his own kynde;” and of the ass, “I could write much of this beaste, but that it might be thought it were to mine own glorie.”