24165	----	None 
20386	----	Note: The reader is strongly advised to use Project Gutenberg's HTML version of this book because it includes almost 200 illustrations which cannot be incorporated in this text version. See 20386-h.htm or 20386-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/0/3/0/20386/20386-h/20386-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/0/3/0/20386/20386-h.zip) _"Flowers, Plants and Fishes, Birds, Beasts, Flyes, and Bees, Hils, Dales, Plaines, Pastures, Skies, Seas, Rivers, Trees, There's nothing neere at hand, or farthest sought, But with the needle may be shap'd and wrought."_ --JOHN TAYLOR ("The Praise of the Needle"). The Artistic Crafts Series of Technical Handbooks Edited by W. R. Lethaby EMBROIDERY AND TAPESTRY WEAVING A Practical Text-Book of Design and Workmanship by MRS. ARCHIBALD H. CHRISTIE With Drawings by the Author and Other Illustrations Second Edition Revised (A reprint of the First Edition, with various slight alterations in text) Third Edition Revised (A reprint of the Second Edition) Published by John Hogg 13 Paternoster Row London 1912 [Illustration: _Frontispiece See page 249._] Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co. at the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh EDITOR'S PREFACE Needlework, which is still practised traditionally in every house, was once a splendid art, an art in which English workers were especially famous, so that, early in the XIIIth century, vestments embroidered in England were eagerly accepted in Rome, and the kind of work wrought here was known over Europe as "English Work." Embroideries _façon d'Angleterre_ often occupy the first place in foreign inventories. At Durham are preserved some beautiful fragments of embroidery worked in the Xth century, and many examples, belonging to the great period of the XIIIth and XIVth centuries, are preserved at the South Kensington Museum, which is particularly rich in specimens of this art. In order to judge of what were then its possibilities it is worth while to go and see there three notable copes, the blue cope, the Sion cope, and the rose-colour Jesse-tree cope, the last two of which are certainly English, and the former probably so. The Sion cope bears a remnant of an inscription which has unfortunately been cut down and otherwise injured, so that all that I have been able to read is as follows: DAVN PERS : DE : V ...; probably the name of the donor. In the XIIIth century the craft of embroidery was practised both by men and women. That great art patron, Henry the Third, chiefly employed for his embroideries, says Mr. Hudson Turner, "a certain Mabel of Bury St. Edmund's, whose skill as an embroideress seems to have been remarkable, and many interesting records of her curious performances might be collected." And I have found a record of an embroidered chasuble made for the king by "Mabilia" of St. Edmund's in 1242. The most splendid piece of embroidery produced for this king must have been the altar frontal of Westminster Abbey, completed about 1269. It was silk, garnished with pearls, jewels, and translucent enamels. Four embroideresses worked on it for three years and three-quarters, and it seems to have cost a sum equal to about £3000 of our money. "The London Broderers" did not receive a formal charter of incorporation until 1561, but they must have been a properly organised craft centuries before. In 2 Henry IV. it was reported to Parliament that divers persons of the "Craft of Brauderie" made unfit work of inferior materials, evading the search of "the Wardens of Brauderie" in the said City of London. In Paris, in the year 1295, there were ninety-three embroiderers and embroideresses registered as belonging to the trade. The term of apprenticeship to the craft was for eight years, and no employer might take more than one apprentice at a time. In the XVIth century the Guild was at the height of its power, and embroideries were so much in demand that the Jardin des Plantes in Paris was established to furnish flower-subjects for embroidery design. It was founded by the gardener, Jean Robin, and by Pierre Vallet, "brodeur" to Henry IV. In the XVIIIth century the company numbered 250 past-masters. To this craft the present volume forms, I believe, an admirable introduction and text-book, not only on the side of workmanship, but also on that difficult subject, "design"--difficult, that is, from its having been so much discussed in books, yet entirely simple when approached, as here, as a necessary part of workmanship. It is fortunate that we have not as yet learned to bother our cooks as to which part of their work is designing and which is merely mechanical. Of course the highest things of design, as well as of workmanship, come only after long practice and to the specially gifted, but none the less every human creature must in some sort be a designer, and it has caused immense harm to raise a cloud of what Morris called "sham technical twaddle" between the worker and what should be the spontaneous inspiration of his work. What such combination has produced in past times, may perhaps best be understood by some reading in old church inventories of the simply infinite store of magnificent embroidered vestments which once adorned our churches. In an inventory of Westminster Abbey I find mentioned such patterns as roses and birds, fleur-de-luces and lybardes, angels on branches of gold, roses and ships, eagles and angels of gold, castles and lions, white harts, swans, dogs, and antelopes. W. R. LETHABY. _September 1906._ AUTHOR'S PREFACE In the following pages the practical sides of Embroidery and Tapestry Weaving are discussed, their historical development being only incidentally touched upon. The drawings illustrating design and the practical application of stitches have been taken almost without exception from actual Embroidery or Tapestry; the exceptions, where it has been impossible to consult originals, from photographic representations obtained from various sources, among which the collection of M. Louis de Farcy should be mentioned. I have to thank Miss May Morris and Mrs. W. R. Lethaby for permission to reproduce pieces of their work, and Miss Killick, Colonel J. E. Butler-Bowdon, the Viscount Falkland, and the Reverend F. J. Brown of Steeple Aston for permission to reproduce work in their possession. Also I must thank the authorities of the Victoria and Albert Museum for help in various ways, and Mr. J. H. Taylor, M.A. Oxf. and Cam., for his kindness in reading the proofs. GRACE CHRISTIE. _Ewell, September 1906._ CONTENTS PAGE EDITOR'S PREFACE xi AUTHOR'S PREFACE xvii PART I EMBROIDERY CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION 27 CHAPTER II TOOLS, APPLIANCES, AND MATERIALS Needles--Scissors--Thimbles--Frames--Stand and Frame combined--Tambour Frame--Cord-making Appliance--Requisites for Transferring Patterns--Pricker--Knife--Spindle--Piercer--Materials suitable for Embroidering upon--Threads of all Kinds--Stones, Beads, &c. 34 CHAPTER III PATTERN DESIGNING The Difficulties of Pattern Making--A Stock-in-Trade--Some Principles upon which Patterns are Built Up--Spacing-Out--Nature and Convention--Shading--Figure Work--Limitations--Colour 51 CHAPTER IV STITCHES Introduction--Chain Stitch--Zigzag Chain--Chequered Chain--Twisted Chain--Open Chain--Braid Stitch--Cable Chain--Knotted Chain--Split Stitch 75 CHAPTER V STITCHES--(_continued_) Satin Stitch--Long and Short Stitch--Stem Stitch--Overcast Stitch--Back Stitch--Buttonhole Stitch--Tailor's Buttonhole--Fancy Buttonhole Edgings--Flower in Open Buttonhole Stitch--Leaf in Close Buttonhole Stitches--Petal in Solid Buttonholing 95 CHAPTER VI STITCHES--(_continued_) Knots and Knot Stitches--Herring-bone Stitch--Feather Stitch--Basket Stitch--Fishbone Stitch--Cretan Stitch--Roumanian Stitch--Various Insertion Stitches--Picots 118 CHAPTER VII CANVAS WORK AND STITCHES Introduction--Samplers--Petit Point Pictures--Cross Stitch--Tent Stitch--Gobelin Stitch--Irish Stitch--Plait Stitch--Two-sided Italian Stitch--Holbein Stitch--Rococo Stitch 147 CHAPTER VIII METHODS OF WORK Couching--Braid Work--Laid Work--Applied Work--Inlaid Work--Patch Work 164 CHAPTER IX METHODS OF WORK--(_continued_) Quilting--Raised Work--Darning--Open Fillings--Darned Netting 189 CHAPTER X Methods of work--(_continued_) Drawn Thread Work--Hem Stitching--Simple Border Patterns--Darned Thread Patterns--Corners--Cut or Open Work--Various Methods of Refilling the Open Spaces 213 CHAPTER XI EMBROIDERY WITH GOLD AND SILVER THREADS Introduction--Materials--Precautions for the Prevention of Tarnish--Ancient Method of Couching--Its various Good Points--Description of Working Diagram--Working a Raised Bar--Examples of Patterns Employed in Old Work--Illustrations upon Draped Figures--Usual Method of Couching--Couching Patterns--Outline Work--Raised Work--The Use of Purls, Bullions, &c. 229 CHAPTER XII LETTERING, HERALDRY, AND EMBLEMS The Uses of Lettering--Marking--Monograms--Heraldry--Emblems 259 CHAPTER XIII THE GARNITURE OF WORK Finishing off--Making up--Edges--Use of Cord-making Appliance--Cord Twisted by Hand--Knotted Cord--Fringes--Tassels--Knots 271 CHAPTER XIV PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS Transferring Patterns--Paste for Embroidery Purposes--Protection and Preservation of Work--Washing Embroidery--Prevention and Cure of Puckered Work--Points about the Thread--Dressing the Frame 292 PART II TAPESTRY WEAVING CHAPTER XV INTRODUCTION 307 CHAPTER XVI NECESSARY APPLIANCES AND MATERIALS The Loom--Mirror--Bobbins and Needles--The Comb--Embroidery Frame treated as a Loom--Warp--Wools--Silk--Gold and Silver Thread 315 CHAPTER XVII PREPARATIONS FOR WORK Warping the Loom--Dressing the Coat-Stave--Tracing the Pattern upon the Threads 328 CHAPTER XVIII THE TECHNIQUE OF WEAVING Weaving--Commencing and Fastening Off--The Interlocking Stitch--Fine Drawing--Shading--Added After-stitches 339 NOTES ON THE COLLOTYPE PLATES 355 THE COLLOTYPE PLATES 369 INDEX 402 PART I--EMBROIDERY CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION In the practice of embroidery the needlewoman has an advantage not now shared by workers in any other craft, in that the technical processes are almost a matter of inherited skill. Every woman can sew, and it is with little more than the needle and thread, which she habitually employs, that the greatest masterpieces of the art have been stitched. The art of embroidery, however, is not merely an affair of stitches; they are but the means by which ideas can be expressed in intelligible form, and memories of all kinds of things be pictured on stuffs. To laboriously train the hand is scarcely worth while unless it is capable of expressing something that is at least pretty. Nowadays much embroidery is done with the evident intent of putting into it the minimum expenditure of both thought and labour, and such work furnishes but a poor ideal to fire the enthusiasm of the novice; happily, there still exist many fine examples showing what splendid results may be achieved; without some knowledge of this work we cannot obtain a just idea of the possibilities of the art. It is obvious that much advantage can be gained from studying the accumulated experience of the past in addition to that current in our own day. To do this intelligently, the history of embroidery must be followed in order that the periods richest in the various kinds of work may be ascertained. Museums afford useful hunting-grounds for the study of past work; other sources are private collections, churches, costume in pictures or on engraved brasses, and manuscript inventories such as those of cathedral treasuries, which sometimes contain interesting detailed descriptions of their embroidered vestments and hangings. Blind copying of old work is not of much value; it is not possible or desirable to imitate XIIIth century work now, but much can be learned by examining fine examples in an appreciative and analytical spirit. In what way the design has been built up can be discovered; the most complicated result may often be resolved into quite elementary lines. The student must find out wherein lie the attraction and interest, note good schemes of colour, and learn about stitches and methods of work by close examination of the embroidery, both front and back. Every one knows what embroidery is, and a formal definition seems unnecessary. As a matter of fact, it would be a difficult task to give one, since weaving, lace-making, and embroidery are but subtle variations of the same art. This art may be of the highest or the most homely character, and the latter is by no means to be despised. Simple unaffected work decorating the things of every-day use can give a great deal of pleasure in its way. This should surely be the accomplishment of every woman, for though she may not have the skill to attain to the highest branches, it would at least enable her to decorate her home with such things as the counterpanes, curtains, and other objects that set such a personal stamp upon the English domestic work of several centuries, and which nowadays can hardly be found except stored up in museums. It is advisable as a general rule that the design be both made and carried out by the same person. From the worker's own point of view the interest must be much greater when working out her own ideas than when merely acting as amanuensis to another. The idea is more likely to be expressed with spirit; further there is the possibility of adding to or altering, and thereby improving, the work as it progresses. The designer must in any case be well acquainted with stitches and materials, for they play an important part in achieving good results. The individuality of the worker should be evident in her work; indeed it generally is, for even plain hems by two people bear quite different characters; the degree of individuality present, varies with each one, but in any case it will be much more marked if the design and stitching bear the stamp of the same personality. The difference between good and unsatisfactory results should be carefully thought out, for it is often but a small matter. The best kind of work is that which appeals to the intelligence as well as to the eye, which is another way of saying there should be evidence of mind upon the material. Work must be interesting in some way if it is to be attractive; it had better almost be faulty and interesting than dull, dry, and correct. It can interest by reminding us of pleasant things, such as familiar flowers, shady woods, or green lawns; birds, beasts, and so forth can be depicted in their characteristic attitudes, or a story can be told; in fact, work can be made attractive in a hundred different ways. It must not show signs of having wearied the worker in the doing; variety and evidence of thought lavishly expended upon it will prevent this, and enthusiasm will quicken it with life. The selection of the object to work comes at an early stage, and is a matter to be well considered, for it is a pity to spend time and labour upon unsuitable objects when there are many excellent ones to choose from. In thinking over what to work it should be realised that it takes no longer to execute one rather important piece than several of a less ambitious character, and that the former is generally more worth the doing. Whether the subject is a suitable one for embroidery or not sometimes depends upon the method chosen for carrying it out; for instance, anything that has to endure hard wear must be treated in such a way as to stand it well. Dress is a fine subject for embroidery; but, for the decoration to be satisfactory, the art of designing dress must be understood, and the dress must also be well cut, or the embroidery will be quite wasted upon it. What is termed "art dress," proverbially bad, well deserves its reputation. There is a great difference in the quantity of work that may be put into dress decoration; this may be simply an embroidered vest, collar, and cuffs, or it may be actually an integral part of the costume, which as a much bigger and more difficult undertaking is correspondingly finer in effect when successfully carried out. Amongst larger objects that well repay the labour of embroidery, hangings of various kinds, quilts, screens, furniture coverings, altar frontals, church vestments, may be mentioned; amongst smaller, are bags, boxes, book-covers, gloves or mittens, bell-pulls, cushions, mirror frames, all kinds of household linen, infants' robes, and so on, and for church use such things as alms-bags, book-markers, stoles, pulpit and lectern frontals. Then a panel may be worked with the deliberate intention of framing it to hang on a wall. There is no reason why the painter should have the monopoly of all the available wall space, for decorative work is undoubtedly in place there; a piece of embroidered work might well fill a panel over a mantel-piece. There is no need to discuss what not to do, but, if the attraction to embroider a tea-cosy is too strong to resist, it should surely be of washable materials. Embroidery has distinct practical advantages over some other crafts practised nowadays--no special studio need be devoted to its use, for most work can be done in any well-lighted room, which indeed will be rendered more attractive by the presence of an embroidery frame, for this is in itself a characteristic and dainty piece of furniture. It need but seldom interfere with one of our pleasant traditions, genial converse with, and about, our neighbours, for it is a distinctly sociable occupation. Work of this kind can be put down and taken up at leisure; the necessary outlay in materials need not be extravagant, and so on. Many other points might be thought of, but the claims of the art do not demand any special pleading, for it is pleasant in the actual working, and can produce an infinite variety of most interesting results. CHAPTER II TOOLS, APPLIANCES, AND MATERIALS Needles--Scissors--Thimbles--Frames--Stand and Frame combined--Tambour Frame--Cord-making Appliance--Requisites for Transferring Patterns--Pricker--Knife--Spindle--Piercer--Suitable Materials for Embroidering upon--Threads of all Kinds--Stones, Beads, &c. Good workmanship takes a prominent, though not the first, place. Technical excellence in needlework, as in all other artistic crafts, is a question of the worker's perseverance and her ability in the use of tools. In embroidery these are few and simple, and are as follows:-- _Needles._--For most purposes needles known as long-eyed sharps are used. Tapestry needles, similar to these, but with blunt points, are useful for canvas work and darned netting. For gold work a special needle can be procured with sharp point and long wide eye. A bent needle makes a crooked stitch; but needles if made of good steel should not bend; they break if used unfairly. The eye should be cleanly cut, or it roughens the thread. The needle must be just stout enough to prepare for the thread an easy passage through the material. _Scissors._--Three pairs may be necessary; for ordinary work a small pair with fine sharp points, for gold work small ones with strong points similar to nail scissors, and for cutting-out purposes a large pair with one rounded and one sharp point. _Thimbles._--Steel ones are said to be most serviceable, silver are most usual; but whatever the material they must be neatly made in order not to wear the thread. _Frames._--A common type of frame is shown at fig. 1. It is made in various sizes; the one here represented measures 18 inches across. It consists of four pieces of wood, two rollers for the top and base and two side pieces. Each of the rollers has a piece of webbing securely nailed along it, and its extremities are pierced with holes to receive the side pieces. These are formed of two long wooden screws, fitted with movable nuts, which adjust the width of the frame and the tautness of the stretched work. The piece of material that is stretched between is the link that keeps the frame together, for the screw ends fit just loosely in the holes of the rollers. The side pieces are sometimes made of flat laths of wood pierced with holes at regular intervals; in these are inserted metal pins, by means of which the work is kept stretched. Fig. 9 represents a frame of this type. If the frame is a very large one it can have a strengthening bar fixed across the centre from roller to roller. [Illustration: Fig. 1.] The frame is most convenient for work when fixed in a stand, although it can be used leaning against a table or the back of a chair. A very large frame would be supported upon trestles, but for ordinary purposes, a stand, such as the one shown in fig. 2, is practical. It consists of two upright wooden posts, a little over 2 feet in height, which are connected near the base by a strengthening cross piece. Both this and the uprights are adjustable; the centre part of the posts is arranged to slide up and down, and can be fixed at any convenient height by the insertion of a long metal pin; the width of the cross piece is regulated in similar fashion, being made firm, by a screw, at the required width, thus allowing various sized frames to be used in the same stand. The frame is fixed in place by metal clamps, and a wooden pivot is arranged so as to permit the stretched work to be inclined at any angle convenient. Both stand and frame should be well made and of good wood, for they must be able to stand strain and be perfectly firm and true when fixed for work. [Illustration: Fig. 2.] A small circular frame, such as is shown in fig. 3, is useful for marking linen or for any small work. This, formed of two hoops fitting closely one within the other, can be procured in wood, ivory, or bone, of various sizes, the one illustrated being about 6 inches in diameter. The material to be worked upon is stretched between these hoops like the parchment on a drum. These tambour frames, as they are called, are sometimes fixed into a small stand or fitted with a wooden clamp for fastening to a table; this frees both hands for work. These tambours cannot well be recommended; the material is apt to stretch unevenly, and a worked part, if flattened between the hoops, is liable to be damaged. [Illustration: Fig. 3.] The illustration at fig. 4 shows a simple little instrument for making a twisted cord. It is interesting to note that Etienne Binet, who wrote on embroidery about 1620, when discussing some necessary equipment for an embroideress mentions "_un rouet pour faire les cordons_." There is sometimes a difficulty in procuring the cord just right to suit the finished work; the texture may be too coarse to put beside fine embroidery, it may not be a good match, and, even if so at first, it may fade quite differently from the worked silks. For these and other reasons it is a safe method to make the cord one's self, possibly with some materials of the kind already used in the embroidery. [Illustration: Fig. 4.] This appliance enables the worker to make any kind of twisted cord; it is as simple as a toy to handle, and gives excellent results. It is a metal instrument about 8 inches in height. The three small discs are wheels, supported on the arms of an upright cross which has a heavy circular base. These three wheels are connected by a cord with a larger wheel below that has a handle attached to it. The cord runs in a groove round the circumference of each wheel, and must be held taut in position. By turning the handle of the large wheel the three small ones are set in motion. Three hooks, attached to the axles of the small wheels, are therefore rotated with them. One end of each ply of the cord in making is looped on to one of these hooks, the other ends are attached to three similar hooks fixed into a block of wood which, when in use, is firmly clamped to the table. Further instruction in the making of cords is given in Chapter XIII. [Illustration: Fig. 5.] To trace the pattern on to the material the following articles may be required: Indian ink, a small finely-pointed sable brush, a tube of oil paint, flake white or light red, according to the colour of the ground material, turpentine, powdered charcoal or white chalk for pounce, tracing paper, drawing-pins, and a pricker. This last-mentioned tool is shown in fig. 5. It is about 5 inches long, and is like a needle with the blunt end fitted into a handle. For rubbing on the pounce some soft clinging material rolled into a ball is necessary. A piece of old silk hose tightly rolled up makes an excellent pad for the purpose. The knife shown in fig. 6 is useful for cutting out at times when the use of scissors is not practical. It is used in an upright position, with the point outwards. [Illustration: Fig. 6.] A spindle for winding gold thread upon whilst working is shown in fig. 7. It is about 8 inches long. A soft padding of cotton thread is first placed round (between A and B, fig. 7), and the gold thread wound upon that. The end of the thread passes through the forked piece at the top on its way to being worked into the material. The use of this or some similar appliance enables the worker to avoid much touching of the metal threads. A small tool called a piercer is represented by fig. 8; it is used in gold work; the flat end assists in placing the gold in position, and also in making the floss silk lie quite flat; the pointed end is used for piercing holes in the material for passing coarse thread to the back, and for other purposes. This little tool, made of steel, is about 5 inches in length. [Illustration: Fig. 7.] [Illustration: Fig. 8.] MATERIALS The surface is a matter of special interest in embroidery work. This makes the choice of materials of great importance. Besides the question of appearance, these must be suitable to the purpose, durable, and, if possible, pleasant to work with and upon. The materials chosen should be the best of their kind, for time and labour are too valuable to be spent upon poor stuffs; occasionally a piece of old work is seen with the ground material in shreds and the embroidery upon it in a good state of preservation, which is a pity, for a newly applied ground of any kind is never as satisfactory as the original one. Still another plea for the use of good materials is the moral effect they may have upon the worker, inciting her to put forth her best efforts in using them. [Illustration: Fig. 9.] The purpose to which the work is to be put usually decides the ground material, besides governing pattern, stitches, and everything else. A background is chosen, as a rule, to show to advantage and preserve what is to be placed upon it, though sometimes it is the other way about, and the pattern is planned to suit an already existing ground. A background must take its right place, and not be too much in evidence, although if of the right kind it may be full of interest. There are, roughly speaking, three ways of treating the ground, leaving the material just as it is, covering part of it with stitching, or working entirely over it. If there is no work upon the ground the choice of material becomes more important. Texture, colour, tone, and possibly pattern, have all to be considered, though the problem is often best solved by the selection of a plain white linen. The question of texture is sometimes one of its suitability for stitching upon; colour and tone may be of all kinds and degrees from white to black; these two, as a rule, being particularly happy ones. If the ground stuff is patterned, as in the case of a damasked silk, it must be specially chosen to suit the work to be placed upon it; small diaper patterns are frequently very good, since they break up the surface pleasantly without being too evident. Linen, which well answers all the usual requirements, is, for this reason, very frequently chosen for a ground material. It can be procured in great variety, the handmade linens being the best of all. Of kinds besides the ordinary are twilled linens, of which one named Kirriemuir twill is similar to the material used in the fine old embroidered curtains. Some damask linens look very well as backgrounds for embroidery; the pattern is sometimes a slightly raised diaper, which forms a pleasantly broken surface. Loosely woven linens can be obtained specially suitable for drawn thread work. In any case, if there is dressing in the new material, it must be well boiled before the embroidery is commenced: this makes it much softer for stitching through. Coloured linens are rarely satisfactory, a certain kind of blue being almost the only exception. The safest plan is to keep to pure white, or to the unbleached varieties that have a slightly grey or warm tone about them. Wools, silks, and flax threads all look well upon a linen ground; it is not usually in good taste to embroider with poor thread upon a rich ground material, and, upon the other hand, gold thread and floss demand silk or velvet rather than linen, though any rule of this kind may on occasion be broken. Velvet and satin make excellent backgrounds for rich work; they should not be used unless of good quality. The pile of the best velvet is shorter than that of poorer kinds, and so is easier to manipulate, which is a further reason for using the best. It is in any case a difficult material, so much so that work is often carried out on linen and afterwards applied to a velvet ground. The modern velvets, even the best of them, are for quality or colour not comparable with the old ones. Silk of different kinds is largely employed, since it makes a suitable ground for many kinds of embroidery. Twilled and damasked silks are much used; in the last-named kind, patterns must be carefully chosen to suit the particular purpose. A thick ribbed silk is rarely satisfactory for embroidery purposes. For working with silk thread, an untwisted floss takes the first place, but it needs some skill in manipulation. Filofloss is somewhat similar, but it has a slight twist in it, making it easier to work, though producing a less satisfactory result. Filosel is useful for some kinds of work, but it is a poorer quality of silk. The purse silks, and what is called embroidery silk, are all excellent; they are tightly twisted varieties of fine quality. There are various others in use; a visit to a good embroidery depôt will probably be the best means of finding out about these and about materials in general. Wools can be obtained in various thicknesses and twistings, each good in their way. Some workers prefer a but slightly twisted wool; however, examples of old wool work are to be found in which a finely twisted variety is used with most satisfactory effect. Flax threads can be obtained in very good colours, and are to be highly recommended. There are various cottons procurable, either coloured or white, that are good for marking and other embroidery purposes where an evenly twisted thread is desirable. Pearls and precious stones take their place in rich embroideries, also various less expensive but pretty stones may often be made use of effectively. Beads are a fascinating material to work with; all kinds of pretty things can be done with them, either sewing them upon a ground, knitting or crocheting, or making use of a small bead loom. A good deal of the ready-made bought bead work, that only requires a monotonous ground to be filled in around an already worked pattern of sorts, is not at all suggestive of its possibilities. Beads of both paste and glass can be obtained in much greater variety than is usually known, from the most minute in size to large varieties of all kinds of shapes and patterns, the colours of most of them being particularly good. The larger ornamental beads are useful in many ways, sometimes taking the place of tassels or fringes. Many kinds of most curious materials are at times brought into the service of embroidery, but the above-mentioned ones are the most usual. CHAPTER III PATTERN DESIGNING The Difficulties of Pattern Making--A Stock-in-Trade--Some Principles upon which Patterns are Built Up--Spacing-Out--Nature and Convention--Shading--Figure Work--Limitations--Colour. A beginner sometimes experiences difficulty in preparing her own patterns. A designer needs a wide knowledge of many subjects, which necessitates much time being given to study; also drawing ability is necessary to enable the worker to set down her ideas upon paper. For much simple and pretty work, however, a slight acquaintance with drawing and design is sufficient, and any one who can master the requisite stitches can also acquire some knowledge of these two subjects. The word design frightens some who do not know quite what it means or entails. Perhaps they do not realise that the design has already been begun when the object to be worked has been settled, and the material, thread, and stitches have been decided upon--the rest comes in much the same way, partly by a system of choice; as it is necessary to know what materials there are which can be used, so must the chief varieties of pattern be known from which choice can be made. All patterns are built up on some fundamental plan, of which the number is comparatively small. The ability to choose, plan, and arrange is in a greater or less degree inherent in every one, so there should be, after all, no great difficulty in the design. The necessary underlying qualities are--a nice taste, freedom from affectation, an eye for colour and form, and, it might be added, a fair share of common sense. A pattern maker requires some stock-in-trade, and it is wise to collect together a store of some well-classified design material of ascertained value, ready to be drawn upon when required. A good knowledge of plants and flowers is very necessary. This is best acquired by making careful drawings from nature. In choosing flowers for embroidery purposes, the best-known ones, such as the daisy, rose, or carnation, give more pleasure to the observer than rare unrecognisable varieties. Figures, birds, beasts, and such things as inscriptions, monograms, shields of arms and emblems, all demand study and drawing, both from miscellaneous examples and from embroideries. The treatment of all these should be studied in old work, in order that the curious conventions and all kinds of amusing and interesting ideas that have gradually grown up in the past may still be made use of and added to, instead of being cast aside in a wild endeavour after something original. The student who collects a supply of the foregoing materials will find she has considerably widened her knowledge during the process, and is better prepared to make designs. In making a pattern the first thing to be decided upon is some main idea, the detail that is to carry it out must then be considered. This latter may be of various types, such as flowers, foliage, figures, animals, geometrical forms, interlacing strapwork, quatrefoils, &c., &c.; perhaps several of these _motifs_ may be combined together in the same design. [Illustration: Fig. 10.] One of the simplest plans upon which a pattern can be arranged is that of some form recurring at regular intervals over the surface. The principle involved is repetition; an example of it is shown at fig. 10. The form that is used here is a sprig of flower, but the repeating element admits of infinite variation, it may be anything from a dot to an angel. [Illustration: Fig. 11.] Copes and chasubles, bedspreads and curtains, are often to be seen decorated with some repeating form. Fig. 11 shows in outline a conventional sprig that is repeated in this fashion over the surface of a famous cope in Ely Cathedral. Fig. 12 is an example of a sprig of flower taken from a XVIIth century embroidered curtain; similar bunches, but composed of different flowers, recur at intervals over this hanging. It may interest the practical worker to know what are the different stitches used upon this figure. The petals of the top flower are in chain stitch in gradated colouring, the centre is an open crossing of chain surrounded by stamens in stem stitch in varied colour, the outermost leaves are outlined in stem stitch with an open filling of little crossed stitches. The petals of the lower flower are worked similarly, and the centre is carried out in chain stitch and French knots. The leaves are filled in with ingenious variations of these stitches. [Illustration: Fig. 12.] The repeating element is perhaps a symbolical figure, a heraldic shield, or it may be some geometrical form that supplies the motive. Fig. 13 is a conventional sprig of hawthorn that ornaments in this way an altar frontal at Zanthen. It is by no means necessary that the element which repeats should be always identical; so long as it is similar in size, form, and general character it will probably be the more interesting if variety is introduced. The principle of repetition is again found in fig. 14, but with an additional feature; a sprig of flower is used, with the further introduction of diagonal lines, expressed by leaf sprays, which are arranged so as to surround each flower and divide it from the adjoining ones. [Illustration: Fig. 13.] It is advisable to space out the required surface in some way before commencing to draw out a pattern; for carrying out fig. 14 it would be well to pencil out the surface as in fig. 15; a connection between these two will be perceived at a glance. This spacing-out of the required surface in one way or another is of great assistance, and may even prove suggestive in the planning of the design. It helps the regularity of the work, and order is essential in design as in most other things in life. [Illustration: Fig. 14.] Another very usual expedient is that of introducing a main central form, with others branching out on either side and symmetrically balancing each other. An example of this is given in fig. 16. The symmetry may be much more free than this; a tree is symmetrical taken as a whole, but the two sides do not exactly repeat each other. [Illustration: Fig. 15.] A plan very commonly employed is that of radiating main lines all diverging from one central point. Fig. 17 shows a design following this principle; there is infinite variety in the ways in which this may be carried out. [Illustration: Fig. 16.] [Illustration: Fig. 17.] Another method would be to plan a continuous flowing line with forms branching out on one side or on both. Figs. 18 and 19 are border designs, for which purpose this arrangement is often used, though it can also well form an all-over pattern; sometimes these lines used over a surface are made to cross each other, tartan wise, by running in two directions, producing an apparently complicated design by very simple means. [Illustration: Figs. 18 and 19.] [Illustration: Fig. 20.] Designs may be planned on the counterchange principle. This is a system of mass designing that involves the problem of making a pattern out of one shape, continually repeated, and fitting into itself in such a way as to leave no interstices. The simplest example of this is to be found in the chess board, and it will easily be seen that a great number of shapes might be used instead of the square. Fig. 20 is an example of a counterchange design carried out in inlay; for this method of work counterchange is very suitable. On reference to the chapter upon this work another example will be found (page 181). Fig. 21 illustrates the same principle, further complicated by the repetition of the form in three directions instead of in two only. [Illustration: Fig. 21.] A method of further enriching a straightforward pattern, covering a plain surface, is to work a subsidiary pattern upon the background. This is usually of a monotonous and formal character in order not to clash with the primary decoration, though this relationship may sometimes be found reversed. It has the appearance of being some decoration belonging to the ground rather than to the primary pattern; in its simplest form it appears as a mere repeating dot or a lattice (see fig. 22), but it may be so elaborated as to cover with an intricate design every portion of the exposed ground not decorated with the main pattern. Many other distinct kinds of work might be mentioned, such as needlework pictures, the story-telling embroideries that can be made so particularly attractive. Embroidered landscapes, formal gardens, mysterious woods, views of towns and palaces, are, if rightly treated, very fine. In order to learn the way to work such subjects we must go to the XVIth and XVIIth century _petit point_ pictures, and to the detail in fine tapestries. The wrong method of going to work is to imitate the effect sought after by the painter. [Illustration: Fig. 22.] It is a mistake in embroidery design to be too naturalistic. In painting it may be the especial aim to exactly imitate nature, but here are wanted embroidery flowers, animals and figures, possessing the character and likeness of the things represented, but in no way trying to make us believe that they are real. The semblance of a bumble bee crawling upon the tea cloth gives a hardly pleasant sensation and much savours of the practical joke, which is seldom in good taste; the needle, however, adds convention to almost anything, and will usually manage the bee all right unless the worker goes out of the way to add a shadow and a high light. Such things as perspective, light and shade or modelling of form, should all be very much simplified if not avoided, for embroidery conforms to the requirements of decoration and must not falsify the surface that it ornaments. Shading is made use of in order to give more variety to, and exhibit the beauty of, colour by means of gradation, to explain more clearly the design, and so on; it is not employed for the purpose of fixing the lighting of the composition from one point by means of systematically adjusted light and shade, or of making a form stand out so realistically as to almost project from the background. In avoiding too much resemblance to natural forms it is not necessary to make things ugly; a conventional flower implies no unmeaning straightness or impossible curve, it may keep all its interesting characteristics, but it has to obey other requirements specially necessary in the particular design. Another point to be noted is that, since there is freedom of choice of flowers and other objects, only those perfect and well-formed should be chosen; all accidents of growth and disease may, happily, be omitted; if anything of this kind is put in it helps to give the naturalistic look which is to be avoided. Both sides of a leaf should match, though it may happen in nature, through misfortune, that one is deformed and small. In figure work, which, though ambitious, is one of the most interesting kinds of embroidery, the figures, like all other things, must be treated with a certain amount of simplicity; very little attempt must be made to obtain flesh tones, roundness of form, perspective, or foreshortening. The work should be just sufficiently near to nature to be a good embroidery rendering of it. However, without overstepping the limits there is a great deal that may be expressed, such things as character, gesture, grace, colour, and so on, matters which are after all of first importance. Detail, if of the right kind, may be filled in, but it is wrong to attempt what is to the craft very laborious to obtain, for this would be misdirected energy, which is great waste. A right use of the figure can be seen in the XIIIth century embroidery pictures, which, covering mediæval church vestments, often display episodes from the lives of the saints. These are some of the masterpieces of the art of embroidery; observation of nature is carried to a marvellous pitch, but the execution never sinks into commonplace realism. Certain restrictions are always present, in making a design, that must be conformed to, such as, the limit of space, the materials with which the work is to be carried out, the use to which it will be put, and so on. These, instead of being difficulties, can afford help in the way of suggestion and limitation. A bad design may look as if it obeyed them unwillingly--a form is perhaps cramped, perhaps stretched out in order to fit its place, instead of looking as if it naturally fitted it whether the confining lines were there or not. In the early herbals, illustrated with woodcuts, examples can be found over and over again of a flower filling a required space simply and well; fig. 23 is taken from the herbal of Carolus Clusius, printed at Antwerp in 1601 by the great house of Plantin. The draughtsman in this case had to draw a plant to fit a standard-sized engraver's block, and he had a certain number of facts to tell about it; he drew the plant as simply and straightforwardly as possible, making good use of all the available space, the result being a well-planned and balanced piece of work, with no affectation or unnecessary lines about it. [Illustration: Fig. 23.] Fine colour is a quality appreciated at first sight, though often unconsciously. It is a difficult subject to speak of very definitely; an eye for colour is natural to some, but in any case the faculty can be cultivated and developed. By way of studying the subject, we can go to nature and learn as much as we are capable of appreciating; even such things as butterflies, shells, and birds' eggs are suggestive. Again, embroideries, illuminated manuscripts, pictures, painted decoration, may be studied, and so on; in fact, colour is so universal that it is not possible to get away from it. Unfortunately we are sometimes forced to learn what to avoid as well as what to emulate. Colour is entirely relative, that is to say it depends upon its immediate surroundings for what it appears to be. Also it has effects varying with the material which it dyes; wool is of an absorbent nature, whereas silk has powers of reflection. It is a safe plan to use true colours, real blue, red or green, not slate, terra cotta, and olive. Gold, silver, white and black, are valuable additions to the colour palette; it should be remembered about the former that precious things must be used with economy or they become cheap and perhaps vulgar. [Illustration: Fig. 24.] For getting satisfactory colour there is a useful method which can at times be made use of; this is to stitch it down in alternate lines of two different tints, which, seen together at a little distance, give the desired effect. Backgrounds can be covered over with some small geometrical pattern carried out in this way, such as is shown in fig. 24, perhaps using in alternation bright blue and black instead of a single medium tint of blue all over. At a slight distance the tone may be the same in either case, but this method gives a pleasantly varied and refined effect, which avoids muddiness, and shows up the pattern better. This same method is used for expressing form more clearly as well as for colour; waves of hair, for instance, are much more clearly expressed when worked in this way. CHAPTER IV STITCHES Introduction--Chain Stitch--Zigzag Chain--Chequered Chain--Twisted Chain--Open Chain--Braid Stitch--Cable Chain--Knotted Chain--Split Stitch. It is necessary for every worker to have a certain amount of knowledge of stitches, for they are, so to speak, the language of the art, and though not of first importance, still there is a great deal in stitchery. The needlewoman should be absolute master of her needle, for there is a great charm in beautifully carried out stitching; also a good design can be made mechanical and uninteresting by a wrong method of execution. The simplest and most common stitches are the best, and are all that are necessary for the doing of good work. Work carried out entirely in one stitch has a certain unity and character that is very pleasing. There are a great number of stitches in existence, that is, if each slight variation has a different name assigned to it. The names are sometimes misleading, for often the same stitch is known by several different ones; descriptive names have where possible been chosen for those discussed in the following pages. A worker may find it useful to keep by her a sampler with the most characteristic stitches placed upon it; a glance at this will be suggestive when she is in doubt as to which to use, for it is often difficult to recollect just the right and most suitable one at a moment's notice. It is necessary to learn only the main varieties, for each individual worker can adapt, combine, and invent variations to suit a special purpose. The direction of the stitch is important; tone, if not colour, can be very much altered by change in direction; also growth and form can be suggested by it; for instance, lines going across a stem are not usually so satisfactory as those running the length of it; these suggesting growth better. Folds of drapery are often explained by direction of the lines of stitching quite as much as by gradation of colour. With reference to the stitches described in the following chapters, the worker is advised to try to work them by simply examining the diagrams, and, if in any difficulty, then to refer to the printed description, for such directions are apt to be tedious. The simplest way to master these is to let some one read them out step by step, and to work from dictation. It should be remembered that the use of a particular thread often makes or mars a stitch, some requiring soft silks to show them to advantage, whilst others may need a stoutly twisted thread. Chain stitch is universal, and one of the most ancient of stitches. It is the most commonly used of a group that might be described as linked stitches. Much beautiful work has been carried out entirely in it, and when a monotonous even line is required, this is a most suitable stitch to employ. It is equally in request for outline and filling in, and its chain-like adaptability makes it specially good for following out curved forms or spiral lines. Tambour stitch is practically the same in result, though worked in quite a different manner, for it is carried out in a frame with a fine crochet hook, instead of with a needle. This makes it quicker in execution, but more mechanical in appearance, so it is not to be as much recommended. [Illustration: Fig. 25.] To work chain stitch (fig. 25) bring the needle through at the top of the traced line, hold the working thread down towards the left with the thumb, insert the needle at the point where the thread has just come through and bring it up on the traced line about one-sixteenth of an inch further along, draw the thread through over the held down thread. It should show a neat line of back-stitching on the reverse side. The chain can be made broader by inserting the needle a little to the right, instead of at the exact point where the last thread came through. Care must be taken in the working not to draw the thread too tightly, as this stitch is inclined to pucker the material, especially when it is worked in curved lines. A flower and leaf worked with a solid filling of chain stitch are shown in fig. 26. The dark outline of the flower is in back stitch, the centre a mass of French knots, and the stem in stem stitch. By working the petals in curved lines in this way the shape is well suggested, and the play of light on the curves is particularly happy, especially if the thread used is silk or gold. Another slight variation from this would be to work the lines of chain stitch in different shades of colour, and so get each petal gradually either lighter or darker towards its base; this gives a very pretty effect. Fig. 27 shows an oak leaf carried out in this way, the lines upon it indicate the way in which the stitches would be worked. The rule in solid fillings is to work from the outside inwards where possible, and thus make sure of a good outline. [Illustration: Fig. 26.] In the Victoria and Albert Museum there is a white linen dress[1] daintily embroidered in chain stitch. It is an excellent example of a kind of design suitable to this stitch; the leaves and flowers are carried out in lines of chain stitch following the outline, and in these lines use is made of strongly contrasting colour to both show up the form better, and also decorate it. The leaf in fig. 28 is in style somewhat similar to this, and is intended to be carried out in two distinct colours. [Illustration: Fig. 27.] [Illustration: Fig. 28.] Chain stitches can be worked singly; they are used in this way as a powdering over a background. Sometimes they may be seen conventionally suggesting the small feathers on the shoulder of a bird's wing by being dotted over it at regular intervals. Fig. 29 shows how they might be used to carry out a tiny flower, five separate stitches represent the petals, and two more the leaves at the base; this is a simpler and more satisfactory method than to attempt very minute forms with satin stitches. [Illustration: Fig. 29.] The common chain makes a particularly neat border stitch taken in zigzag fashion. To work this (fig. 30)--Trace two parallel lines on the material and work the chain across from side to side at an angle of 45° to the traced lines. For further security it is well to catch down the end of the stitch just completed with the needle as it commences the following one. The line can be further decorated by placing a French knot, perhaps in a contrasting colour, in each little triangular space left by working the stitch. [Illustration: Fig. 30.] [Illustration: Fig. 31.] There is an ingenious method of working ordinary chain stitch in a chequering of two colours (fig. 31). It is quite simple to work. Thread a needle with two different coloured threads, commence the chain stitch in the usual way until the thread has to be placed under the point of the needle for forming the loop. Place only one of the two threads underneath, leaving the other on one side out of the way, then draw the needle and thread through over the one held down. A chain stitch will have been formed with the thread that was looped under the needle. For the next stitch, the alternate thread is placed under, and so on, taking each thread in turn. The thread not in use each time usually requires a little adjustment to make it entirely disappear from the surface. Twisted chain is worked very similarly to the ordinary chain stitch. It has not such a decidedly looped appearance, which is sometimes an advantage. To work it (fig. 32)--Bring the thread through at the top of the line, hold it down under the thumb to the left, and insert the needle to the left of the traced line, slightly below the point where the thread has come through. Bring it out again on the traced line, about one-eighth of an inch lower down, and draw it through over the held down thread. An entirely different effect can be obtained by working this stitch much closer together, but in exactly the same way. It will then resemble a satin stitch slightly raised on one side. This is known as rope stitch and is at times very useful. [Illustration: Fig. 32.] [Illustration: Fig. 33.] Open chain stitch makes a good broad line; it looks best when worked with a stout thread. To carry out the stitch (fig. 33)--Trace two parallel lines upon the material, about one-eighth of an inch apart, and bring the thread through at the top of the left-hand one. Hold the thread down with the thumb and insert the needle exactly opposite on the other line, bring it up one-eighth of an inch lower down and draw the thread through over the held down part, leaving a rather slack loop upon the material. Then insert the needle on the first line again, inside the slack loop, and bring it out one-eighth of an inch below. Repeat this on each side alternately. Fig. 34 is a drawing from a piece of white linen work in which the open chain stitch is used in combination with other stitches. This figure, with its open-work centre, is repeated diagonally over a white linen cloth exhibited in the Victoria and Albert Museum. [Illustration: Fig. 34.] Braid stitch rather resembles a fancy braid laid upon the material. It looks best when carried out with a stoutly twisted thread. To work it (fig. 35)--Trace two parallel lines upon the material about one-eighth of an inch apart, and bring the thread through at the right-hand end of the lower line. Throw the thread across to the left and hold it slackly under the thumb. Place the needle pointing towards the worker under this held thread, then twist it round towards the left and over the held thread until it points in the opposite direction. It will now have the thread twisted loosely over it. Next, insert the needle on the upper line one-eighth of an inch from the starting-point, and bring it through on the lower line exactly underneath. Place the thumb over the stitch in process of making and draw the thread through as the diagram shows. It can be worked openly or more closely as preferred. [Illustration: Fig. 35.] [Illustration: Fig. 36.] Cable chain is descriptively named, for, when worked with a stoutly twisted thread, it has very much the appearance of a chain laid upon the material, rather too much so perhaps to be a pretty embroidery stitch. To work it (fig. 36)--Bring the needle through at the top of the traced line, throw the thread round to the left and hold it down with the thumb near where it has come through the material. Pass the needle under the held down thread from left to right and draw it through until there is only a small loop left. Insert the needle in the centre of this loop, on the traced line about one-sixteenth of an inch below the starting-point. Bring it out a quarter of an inch below and outside the loop. Take the thread in the right hand and tighten the loop that has now been formed, and then pass the thread under the point of the needle towards the left (see diagram). Place the left thumb over the stitch in process of making and draw the thread through; this will complete the first two links of the chain; to continue, repeat from the beginning. Knotted chain is a pretty stitch; to look well it must be worked with a stout thread. To carry it out (fig. 37)--Trace two parallel lines upon the material, about one-eighth of an inch apart. Bring the thread through at the right hand end in the centre between the two lines, then insert the needle on the upper line one-sixteenth of an inch further along, and bring it through on the lower line immediately below. Draw the thread through and there will be a short slanting line left upon the material. Throw the thread round to the left and hold it under the thumb, then pass the needle and thread through the slanting line from above downwards, leaving the thread a little slack. Place the thread again under the thumb, then in the same way as before, from above downwards, pass the needle and thread through this slack loop. This makes the first two links of the chain; the last one will not be properly fixed in place until the next stitch is taken. The dotted vertical line on the diagram shows the piece of material taken up by the needle upon commencing the next stitch. [Illustration: Fig. 37.] [Illustration: Fig. 38.] Split stitch is a most useful one for many purposes. It is difficult to distinguish from a fine chain when done, but in the working it much more resembles stem stitch. It can be carried out in the hand or in a frame. This stitch, frequently seen upon ancient work, was much used for both draperies and features; the lines of the stitching usually, by their direction, expressing moulding of form or folds of drapery. To work it (fig. 38)--Bring the thread through at the lower end of the traced line, then insert the needle about one-eighth of an inch further along, and bring it through on the line two or three threads nearer the starting-point; whilst bringing it through take it also through the centre of the working thread, which thus splits each stitch. FOOTNOTE: [1] No. 184, 1898. CHAPTER V STITCHES--(_continued_) Satin Stitch--Long and Short Stitch--Stem Stitch--Overcast Stitch--Back Stitch--Buttonhole Stitch--Tailor's Buttonhole--Fancy Buttonhole Edgings--Flower in Open Buttonhole Stitch--Leaf in Close Buttonhole Stitches--Petal in Solid Buttonholing. SATIN AND SIMILAR STITCHES Satin stitch is perhaps the most commonly used of all stitches. It is more quickly worked by hand, but for complicated work the help of a frame is required. Floss silk thread is seen to greatest advantage in a stitch of this kind, for it shows off the glossiness of silk particularly well. It is straightforward in the working and needs no further description than is given by the diagram (fig. 39). The stitches may vary in length, they must neither be impracticably long nor, on the other hand, too much cut up, lest the silky effect be partly lost. These stitches lie close together and in parallel lines; the chief difference between satin and several other closely allied stitches being that these others may radiate or vary in direction according to the space to be filled. The stitch is usually worked in oblique lines; stems, leaves, and petals would be treated in this way; sometimes it is worked regularly having regard to the warp and woof of the material; it would be treated thus when used in conjunction with cross or stroke stitch. [Illustration: Fig. 39.] It will be seen that there is as much silk at the back as on the front of the work. There is a method of carrying out the stitch by which this waste of material at the back is avoided; the thread is returned to the front close to where it went through instead of crossing over and coming up on the other side. The effect on the right side, however, is not so good, so this method cannot be recommended. One of the technical difficulties with satin stitch is to get a neat firm line at the edges of the filled space; this is excellently attained by the Chinese and Japanese, who use this satin stitch a great deal. They frequently work each petal of a complicated flower separately, leaving as a division, between each one and the next, a fine line of material firmly and clearly drawn. [Illustration: Fig. 40.] The stitch is much used for raised work, and also lends itself well to gradation of colour. Fig. 40 is an example of shading in satin stitch. In this case each new row of stitches fits in just between those of the last row; this is a bold but very effective method of expressing gradation. A variation upon this is shown in fig. 42; the bands of different colour are here necessarily worked in a chevron pattern which makes the shading rather more gradual. An example of the same thing can be seen in fig. 44 in the leaf upon which the squirrel sits. Apart from gradation of colour, the surface to be covered by satin stitch has often to be partitioned up in some way in order to make the satin stitches of a practical length. [Illustration: Fig. 41.] Long and short stitch is a very slight variation, if any, from satin stitch. The name describes the method of working, for it is carried out by working alternately a long and a short stitch, the stitches being picked up just as in satin stitch. It is useful for close fillings and shaded work, and also as a solid outline for any kind of open filling. The working of the stitch can be seen in fig. 41, where the band of lightest colour on the upper part of the leaf is worked in long and short stitch. The advantage of this way of working can be seen at once, it makes a firm outline on the one edge and a nicely broken-up one on the other, just ready for another shade to be worked in. In order to carry out the rest of the shading on the leaf in the same way the stitches can be all of the same length; this will always ensure a broken line at the edge, which is a necessity for this method of gradation. Long and short stitch used as an outline for a leaf with an open filling can be seen on page 209. The _opus plumarium_ or feather stitch that we read of in the descriptions of the old embroideries was a similar stitch to this, and so called, some say, because it resembled the plumage of a bird. [Illustration: Fig. 42.] Stem stitch, well known and frequently in use for various purposes, such as for lines, outlines, gradated and flat fillings, and so on, is usually done in the hand, and is quite simple; fig. 43 explains the working. If a broad line is required the needle is put in more obliquely, and a raised effect can be obtained by working over a laid thread. The thread must be kept to the same side of the needle, either to the left or to the right as better suits the purpose in hand; the effect is more line-like when it is kept to the right. Occasionally, when just a double line is to be worked, it is deliberately done in the two ways, and then the line resembles a narrow plait. A solid filling in stem stitch should be worked in lines as illustrated in the squirrel in fig. 44. This little beast is taken from the curtain shown in Plate VII., and is a good example of the life and interest that the introduction of such things adds to embroideries. [Illustration: Fig. 43.] [Illustration: Fig. 44.] The stitches just described were largely used in crewel work. This is a rather vague name that denotes a decorative kind of needlework carried out with coloured wools upon a plain white linen ground. The design is usually composed of conventionally treated leaves and flowers, often growing from boldly curved stems. These were partly shaded in solid stitches, partly worked with geometrical open fillings; ornamental birds and beasts of all kinds were introduced, and the effect of the whole was very beautiful. The work is characteristically English, and a great deal of it was executed in the XVIIth century. Plates VII. and VIII. are illustrative of the type of work, and fig. 45 represents a detail. The various stitches which occur in this drawing are stem, herring-bone, long and short, knot, basket, buttonhole, single chain and satin stitches. [Illustration: Fig. 45.] [Illustration: Fig. 46.] [Illustration: Fig. 47.] Overcast stitch in embroidery is practically a very short raised satin stitch. It requires neat workmanship, and then makes a bold clear line or outline. To work it (fig. 46)--Run or couch down a thread on the traced line, then with fine thread cover this over with close upright stitches, picking up as little material as possible each time in order to make the line clear and round. The stitch is worked most perfectly in a frame. Back stitch sometimes makes a good line or outline. To work it (fig. 47)--Bring the needle through one-sixteenth of an inch from the end of the traced line, insert it at the commencement and bring it through again one-sixteenth of an inch beyond where it first came out. Each stitch, it will be seen, commences at the point where the last one finished. BUTTONHOLE STITCH AND ITS APPLICATION Buttonhole stitch, which is well known in plain needlework, is very useful also in embroidery, besides being an important stitch in needlepoint lace. Owing to its construction it is well suited for the covering of raw edges, but it is also adaptable to a variety of other purposes, such as are open or close fillings of leaves and flowers, cut work, and the outlining of applied work. [Illustration: Fig. 48.] There are two ways of forming the stitch, the common buttonhole and what is called tailor's buttonhole. To work the ordinary buttonhole stitch (fig. 48)--Bring the needle through at the left-hand end of the traced line, hold the thread down to the left with the thumb and insert the needle as shown in the diagram, draw it through over the held thread to complete the stitch. It is worked openly in the diagram, but it may, as required, be either more or less open or quite closed. [Illustration: Fig. 49.] The tailor's buttonhole is for some purposes more satisfactory; the stitch is firmer than the other kind owing to the heading having an extra knot in it; this makes it also more ornamental. To work it (fig. 49)--Commence in the same way as the last stitch until the needle and thread are in the position shown in fig. 48 then, with the right hand take hold of the thread near the eye of the needle, bring it down and loop it under the point from right to left, draw the needle and thread through over these two loops, and the first stitch is made. [Illustration: Fig. 50.] Buttonhole stitch can be varied in many ways, dependent mainly upon the spacing of the stitch and the direction that the needle takes when picking up the material. Fig. 50 shows four simple varieties; the first is the open buttonhole spaced slightly irregularly and with a thread slipped underneath it; any variety of spacing can be arranged, and the thread shown running underneath, which sometimes forms a pretty addition, is usually of a contrasting colour or material. The second shows the stitches taken slanting-wise, so that they cross each other. In the third the stitches are at different angles and of unequal length. The fourth example shows two lines of spaced buttonhole stitch fitting neatly the one into the other and forming a solid line. One row is worked first, leaving just sufficient space between each stitch for the second row to fill up, which can be carried out by reversing the position of the material and exactly repeating the first line in the same or in a different colour. [Illustration: Fig. 51.] A flower filled in with open buttonhole stitch is shown at fig. 51. The centre consists of a mass of French knots, and the outside line is in satin stitch. The innermost circle of buttonholing is worked first, the next row is worked over the heading of the first row as well as into the material; the succeeding rows are worked in the same way until the outside limit is reached, and there the satin stitch just covers the heading of the last row of buttonhole stitching. Gradation of colour can easily be introduced by using a different shade for each circle of stitches, and this produces a very pretty effect. An open method of filling a space, whether flower, leaf, drapery, or background, is sometimes preferable to a solid filling, and the two methods can very well be used together as each shows off the other. These light fillings give opportunity for further variety and ingenuity in the stitching, and prevent the work from looking heavy. A butterfly, carried out partly in open stitches, is illustrated in fig. 52. [Illustration: Fig. 52.] Fig. 53 is, in the original, a gay little flower carried out in orange and yellow. The stitch employed here is a close buttonhole. [Illustration: Fig. 53.] Another example of the use of close buttonhole is shown in the ivy leaf in fig. 54. The stitch is worked in two rows, back to back, in each lobe of the leaf, and the resulting ridge down the centre rather happily suggests the veining. This method of filling in might be just reversed for a rose leaf; the heading of the stitch would then suggest the serrated edge, and the meeting of the two rows down the centre the line of the vein. [Illustration: Fig. 54.] A cluster of berries can be very prettily worked in buttonhole stitch in the way shown in fig. 55. The stitches are so arranged that the heading outlines each berry, and the needle enters the material at the same point, always in the centre. A bullion stitch in a darker colour marks the eye of the berry. [Illustration: Fig. 55.] A good method of filling a space with solid buttonhole stitching is shown in fig. 56. Each row is worked into the heading of the preceding row, and the stitches do not pierce the material except in the first row and at the extremities of succeeding rows. They are placed rather close together in order to completely cover the ground. The stitch is worked, first, from left to right, then for the next row from right to left; this is quite easy and enables the work to be continuously carried out. Sometimes, when the first row is done, the thread is thrown across to the side where the row began, and there made fast; then the second row is worked with stitches which take up the thrown thread as well as the heading of the first row. By using a more open buttonhole and thus partly exposing the laid thread, a filling, both quick and effective, is obtained. This is a useful method to employ when the work is done over a padding of threads, for there is no necessity to pierce the material except at the edges. [Illustration: Fig. 56.] CHAPTER VI STITCHES--(_continued_) Knots and Knot Stitches--Herring-bone Stitch--Feather Stitch--Basket Stitch--Fishbone Stitch--Cretan Stitch--Roumanian Stitch--Various Insertion Stitches--Picots. KNOTS AND KNOT STITCHES It would be difficult to go far in embroidery without requiring knots for one purpose or another. They are useful in all sorts of ways, and make a pleasant contrast to the other stitches. For the enrichment of border lines and various parts of the work, both pattern and background, they are most serviceable, and also for solid fillings; for such places as centres of flowers or parts of leaves, they are again valuable. They have been used to form a continuous outline, but owing to their tendency to make a weak line, not frequently; indeed they usually show to better advantage when slightly separated. Examples are to be seen of English knotted line work in which the knotting was executed in the thread previously to embroidering with it. The knotting of thread was a pastime with ladies in the XVIIth century. The thread, usually a linen one and as a rule home spun, was wound upon a netting-needle, and by the aid of this a close series of knots was made upon it; when finished it somewhat resembled a string of beads. Balls of this prepared knotted thread may still be found, treasured up in old work receptacles. When prepared it was couched on to the material with fine thread, like a cord or braid, and made to follow out some prearranged pattern. In white linen work it was used for carrying out ornamental borderings on infants' robes and other dainty articles. [Illustration: Fig. 57.] French knots can be worked in the hand or in a frame. They are easier to manage in the latter, and to look well they must be neatly and firmly made. Completed they should resemble beads lying end upwards on the material. To work the French knot (fig. 57)--Bring the thread through the material at the required point, take hold of it with the left finger and thumb near the starting-point (A on plan), then let the point of the needle encircle the held thread twice, twist the needle round and insert it at point B on plan, draw the thread through to the back, not letting go the held thread until necessary. Fig. 58 shows some French knots decorating a leaf spray, and various other examples of their use can be found in the book. [Illustration: Fig. 58.] Bullion knots resemble tight curls of thread laid on the material. They can be used as a variation from French knots, and even for the representation of petals and small leaves. To be satisfactory they must be firm, stout, and tightly coiled; some knack is required to make them properly. To work the bullion knot (fig. 59)--Bring the thread through at the required place, insert the needle one-eighth of an inch from this point and bring it through again exactly at it. Take hold of the thread about two inches from where it came through and twist it several times round the point of the needle, the number of times being dependent on the required length of the knot. Place the left thumb upon the tight coil on the needle, in order to keep it in place, and draw the needle and thread through it, then pass the thread through to the back at the point where the needle was last inserted (point A on plan). The thumb must not be removed until it is in the way. Fig. 60 represents a flower, of which the centre is formed of bullion together with French knots. [Illustration: Fig. 59.] [Illustration: Fig. 60.] [Illustration: Fig. 61.] Fig. 61 shows a knotted stitch that is similar in result to the knotted threads discussed earlier in the chapter. In this case the knotting of the thread and the fixing to the material is done at the same time. It is a useful stitch when a jagged line is wanted, and can be seen used, for instance, for the branching veins in open work leaves, as in fig. 62. The diagram explains the working of the stitch; at point A on the plan the left thumb holds the thread down whilst the stitch is in progress. [Illustration: Fig. 62.] MISCELLANEOUS STITCHES [Illustration: Fig. 63.] The stitch illustrated at fig. 63 is very similar to the common herring-bone. The only practical difference is that in the plain needlework stitch there is usually a smaller piece of material picked up by the needle each time. To work it as in the diagram--Trace two parallel lines on the material and bring the thread through at the commencement of the lower line, insert it on the opposite line rather farther along and there pick up a stitch, as the needle is doing in the figure. Then on the opposite line pick up a similar stitch a little in advance of the one just finished. After this work the stitches on either line alternately, commencing each one at the point where the last one ended; this forms on the underside a double row of back stitches. It is quite easy to work this stitch with the back stitches on the working side, and when they are required to be on the surface it is advisable to do it in that way. When embroidering upon a semi-transparent material this stitch is a satisfactory one to use, the back stitching follows out the outline on either side of the form, and the crossing of the threads on the under side shows through prettily. This stitch sometimes goes by the name of double back stitch. It is useful in many ways, making a light stitch for stems, leaves, or flowers; it can be sometimes found in Eastern work used for an entire embroidery. When used for flowers or leaves the width and the closeness of the stitch are varied to suit the shape to be filled. An example of its use as a flower filling is shown in the carnation at fig. 64, which is carried out in four shades of colour. Considerable use is made of this stitch in embroidered curtain shown in Plate VII.; it is there employed for all the stems and various flowers upon the hanging. [Illustration: Fig. 64.] [Illustration: Fig. 65.] The feather stitch, often used to decorate plain needlework, is now to be discussed; although similar in name it must not be confused with the feather or plumage stitch that has already been mentioned. The stitch is so simple and so much in use as hardly to need description; fig. 65 explains the working. There can be many slight variations of the stitch, the worker perhaps devising them needle in hand. Two are shown in fig. 66. The one to the left is worked very like the ordinary stitch; the needle picks up the material in a straight line instead of slightly obliquely, and each stitch touches the one immediately above; it is here made use of as a couching stitch, a bunch of threads of a contrasting colour is laid on the material, and the stitch worked over it from side to side. The right-hand example shows the ordinary feather stitch worked more closely and in a broader line; carried out in this way, it can be used for a leaf filling. [Illustration: Fig. 66.] Basket stitch, useful for a solid line, shows up very clearly when worked with a stout twisted thread. This stitch would be appropriately used when applied to some representation of basket work. To carry out the diagram (fig. 67)--Trace two parallel lines on the material, and to commence, bring the thread through on the left-hand line, then insert the needle on the right-hand line about one-eighth of an inch lower down and bring it through on the left-hand line exactly opposite (see needle in fig.); the next stitch is worked by inserting the needle on the right-hand line but above the last stitch, that is at point A on diagram, and bringing it through at B. To continue, repeat from the beginning. [Illustration: Fig. 67.] A particularly good line for a border is made by fishbone stitch. It can be worked in one colour, or as easily in a chequering of two or three, as shown in the diagram (fig. 68); to carry it out in this way the worker must have two threads in use, bringing through each as required. For such purposes as the fillings of small leaves, this stitch is very useful (see fig. 58). The meeting of the stitches in the centre suggest the veining line, also the change in direction of the thread gives, to the two sides of the leaf, pleasant variation in tone. To work it--Trace three parallel lines upon the material and bring the thread through on the upper line at the left-hand end. Insert the needle and bring it through as in process in the diagram, then repeat the same stitch on the other side the reverse way, that is, insert the needle just over the central line and bring it through on the upper one close to the last stitch. Care must be taken that the stitches cross well over each other at the centre, or the material will show through. [Illustration: Fig. 68.] [Illustration: Fig. 69.] The stitch shown in fig. 69, known as plait or Cretan, is commonly seen on Cretan and other Eastern embroideries. It can be used as a solid border stitch or as a filling, varying in width as required. To work it--Bring the thread through on the lower central line, then insert the needle on the uppermost line and bring it through on the next below as in process in the diagram; then, still keeping the thread to the right, insert the needle immediately underneath on the lowest line and bring it through on the line next above, in fashion similar to the last stitch, but in reverse direction. To continue, work the stitch alternately on one side and the other, always keeping the thread to the right of the needle. In order to make the central plait broader take up rather less material with the needle; this will decrease the outer and increase the inner lines. Fig. 70 is taken from a Cretan embroidery, in which this stitch is mainly used. [Illustration: Fig. 70.] [Illustration: Fig. 71.] Another similar but more simple stitch, often seen in Eastern work, is shown in fig. 71. It can also frequently be found employed on XVIIth century English wool work hangings. It is sometimes called Roumanian stitch, and is composed of one long stitch crossed by a short one in the centre. To work it--Trace two parallel lines on the material and bring the thread through on the left-hand line at the top. Insert the needle on the opposite line and bring it through near the centre, as shown in process in the diagram. For the next half of the stitch the needle enters the material at point A on plan, and is brought through again on the left-hand line close to the last stitch, and so in position to commence again. An illustration of this stitch in use as a filling can be seen at fig. 72. It is worked in four shades of green wool, and each line of stitches is so arranged as to encroach slightly on the line before by means of setting each stitch just between two of the last row. This method of working has two advantages; the shading is thus made more gradual, and a pleasant undulating effect is given to the surface of the leaf. This can be most easily understood by a practical trial of the stitch and method. [Illustration: Fig. 72.] INSERTION STITCHES There is occasion sometimes in embroidery to join edges together visibly. This gives an opportunity for some additional pretty stitching--the addition of something like this, that is perhaps not absolutely necessary, has extra value from the evidence it gives of the worker's interest and delight in her work, a quality always appreciated; on the other hand, work done from the motive of getting a result with as little labour as possible is valued at just its worth. These insertion stitches are useful for joining together edges of cushion covers, bags, detached bands, also for the ornamentation of dress, and for embroideries upon which drawn thread work is not possible. A stout thread is usually suitable for the purpose. The raw edges must first be turned in and flattened, and the parts to be joined can if necessary be tacked in place on a temporary ground such as _toile cirée_. Fig. 73 illustrates a twisted insertion stitch that is quickly executed and very frequently used. The diagram sufficiently explains the working without further description. [Illustration: Fig. 73.] Buttonhole stitch can be turned to account for this purpose. Fig. 74 shows the tailor's buttonhole used as an insertion stitch; for this purpose it is the better of the two kinds of buttonhole. The stitches could be arranged in various ways; in the present example three are worked closely together on either side in turn. The only difficulty with this buttonhole insertion is that on one side the stitch has to be worked in direction contrary to that usual, that is from right to left instead of from left to right. In the diagram the needle is shown working in this reverse way. [Illustration: Fig. 74.] [Illustration: Fig. 75.] Fig. 75 is a knotted insertion stitch; the knot at each side makes the stitch a very rigid one. To work it--Bring the thread through at the lower left-hand side, insert the needle on the upper side a little towards the right, draw the thread through, and then tie the knot on it as in process in the diagram. [Illustration: Fig. 76.] A rather more complicated joining stitch is shown in fig. 76. It could be carried out with different coloured threads. The two sides must be first worked with the edging, which is practically the braid stitch described on page 88. Commence the stitch in exactly the same way as when carrying out braid stitch, but work on the edge of the material as in buttonholing, the working edge in this case being away from the worker. Let the worker, having reached the point of pulling the thread through to complete the stitch, draw it out in the direction away from her. This will draw the stitch towards the edge, where it will form a knot. In the diagram one of the stitches has been partly undone in order to show the working more clearly. When the two sides are bound with the stitch, they can be laced together with another thread as in the illustration. PICOTS Picots are commonly in use in lace work and they are sometimes required for embroidery purposes, especially in the kinds of work nearly allied to lace, such as cut work, or for an added ornament to an edging stitch. [Illustration: Fig. 77.] Fig. 77 shows too small picots added to a buttonhole bar, and on the lower bar is shown the method of working the left-hand picot. The pin that passes into the material behind the bar can be fixed in the bar itself if there happens to be no material underneath. After reaching the point illustrated in the diagram, the needle draws the thread through, thus making a firm knot round the loop. This completes the picot, the bar is then buttonholed to the end. The second picot is made in much the same way; instead, however, of putting the needle as the diagram shows, bring the thread up through the centre of the loop, then round under the pin from left to right, and it will be in position to make three buttonhole stitches along the loop, which completes the second example. [Illustration: Fig. 78.] The upper bar on fig. 78 shows a buttonholed picot. The bar must be worked to the left-hand end of the required picot; the thread is then from there taken back about one-eighth of an inch and threaded through the edge of the buttonhole. This is repeated to and fro until there is a loop composed of three threads ready to be buttonholed over. Upon this being done, the thread will have arrived at the right point to continue the bar. Bullion stitch makes another simple picot--Work the bar to the point where the picot is required, then, instead of taking the next stitch, insert the point of the needle in the heading of the last stitch. Leave the needle in this position, and twist the thread six or eight times round the point of it, just as for the bullion knot (fig. 59). Place the left thumb over the tight coil thus formed, and pull the needle and thread through tightly in order to make the stitch double up into a tight semi-circle, then continue the buttonholing to the end of the bar. CHAPTER VII CANVAS WORK AND STITCHES Introduction--Samplers--Petit Point Pictures--Cross Stitch--Tent Stitch--Gobelin Stitch--Irish Stitch--Plait Stitch--Two-sided Italian Stitch--Holbein Stitch--Rococo Stitch. Canvas work, known in the XIIIth century as _opus pulvinarium_ or cushion work, is of great antiquity, and seems to have had an independent origin in several countries. It is sometimes given the misleading name of tapestry, perhaps owing to hangings of all kinds being called tapestries, whether loom-woven, worked with the needle, or painted. Large wall hangings with designs similar to those of woven tapestries have been most successfully carried out on canvas in cross or tent stitch; as a rule, however, smaller objects are worked, such as furniture coverings, screens or cushions, whence it is obvious canvas work received its ancient and descriptive Latin name. Many Eastern carpets are worked upon a strong canvas in a kind of tent stitch, and so come under the heading of canvas work. It is a particularly durable method of embroidering, and this makes it suitable for use upon anything subjected to hard wear. The work has usually a very decided and attractive character of its own. A familiar example of this can be seen in the XVIIIth century samplers. Its peculiar character is perhaps due to the fact that it cannot break away from a certain conventionality due to constant use of the same stitch, and its dependence upon the web of the fabric. This regularity prevents the work from showing certain faults of design that other methods may exaggerate. It is hardly possible to copy a natural spray of flowers in cross stitch and keep it very naturalistic. The stitch being square and alike all over gives a formality of treatment to every part of the design, also, some detail is perforce omitted owing to the impossibility of putting it in; all of this tends to a right method of treatment, which renders the sampler an admirable lesson not only in workmanship but also in design. The XVIth and XVIIth century pictorial subjects worked upon fine canvas in cross or tent stitch afford instances of most interesting work in canvas stitches. Some of these, though, as a rule, very much smaller in size, equal, in their way, the finest tapestries. Most of them, if judged from a painter's standpoint, would be pronounced failures, but this effect is not what is sought after; the method of treatment belongs rather to the great traditions of the tapestry weaver, and is not governed by the canons of the painter. Plate VI. shows a detail of foliage from a particularly fine example of this work lately added to the Victoria and Albert Museum collection.[2] In what went by the name of Berlin wool work, popular in the early XIXth century, we have before us a degenerate offshoot of this fine and poetic kind of work in which all its possibilities are missed, with a result that is prosaic in the extreme. Some of the canvas-work seat covers decorated with geometrical designs, seen on Chippendale chairs, were a pleasant and satisfactory variation in their way, but in most of the work after that period, the attempt at impossible naturalistic effect gave such unsatisfactory results as to almost deal a death blow to all canvas embroidery. It is, however, a method too good and useful to die out; it must always be more or less in vogue. Patterns carried out in canvas stitches are sometimes to be seen worked apparently upon velvet or similar ground materials. This is done by first laying the canvas upon the velvet and stitching through both materials; this would have to be carried out in a frame. The threads of the canvas are afterwards either withdrawn or closely cut off. In the former case, the stitches must be drawn tight, or the finished work will not look well. This method has the advantage of saving the labour of working the background, and sometimes it suits the pattern to have a contrast in the ground material. In old embroideries, heraldic devices may be seen successfully treated in this way. The usual canvas stitches can be worked upon other fabrics that have an even and square mesh, such as various kinds of linen; also other embroidery stitches, such as stem, satin, or chain, can be used upon canvas; they are then always worked with a certain regularity, following the web of the material. Canvas work can be done in the hand or in a frame, but the technique is often better in work done in a frame. In all-over work it is important that not even a suggestion of the ground fabric should be allowed to show through; for this reason work in light colours should be done on white canvas, and _vice versâ_, as far as possible, also the thread used must suit in thickness the mesh of the canvas. To work a plain ground well is less easy than to work the pattern, though it may sound more simple. The back of the work, though not necessarily similar to the front, must be alike in stitch all over, for the direction the stitch takes at the back affects the regularity of appearance of the front. The stitch must not be commenced in exactly the same place in each row, lest a ridge should appear upon the surface; this can be avoided by using threads of different lengths. A ground is usually commenced at the lower left-hand corner, and a pattern, if a complicated one, from the centre outwards. These technical points are of importance, but they are of little value unless the stitches are at the same time expressing an interesting and suitable design. The stitches used are exceedingly numerous; those described in the following pages are the varieties most commonly seen. Cross stitch, the best known in this group, can be worked in slightly different ways, according to the purpose for which it is required. On the surface it is always the same, but it can vary at the back. For instance, when used for marking purposes it should form on the reverse side either a cross or a square, to do either of which demands some ingenuity on the part of the worker. For ordinary work the really correct method is to complete each stitch before going on to the next, though grounding is frequently done by working the first half of the stitch along an entire line, and completing the cross upon a return journey. In any case, the crossing must always be worked in the same direction. Cross stitch is a double stitch worked diagonally over two threads of the canvas each way. It can, however, be taken over more or fewer threads if required larger or smaller. To work it (fig. 79)--Bring the needle through on the upper left side of the threads to be covered, and take it back again on the lower right, then bring it through on the upper right side and return it to the back on the lower left, which completes the first stitch. [Illustration: Fig. 79.] Tent stitch (fig. 80) is the finest canvas stitch, and is therefore suitable for work involving much detail. Pictorial and heraldic subjects are frequently carried out in it. It is worked diagonally over a perpendicular and horizontal thread of the canvas. The diagram shows the method of working both back and front. It will be noticed that though the line goes alternately from left to right and from right to left, the stitch is always the same at the back as well as the same upon the front; if this were not so, alternate rows would have a different appearance upon the right side. The diagram does not show the connection between the first and the second row, but it is evident that it must be a short upright line. [Illustration: Fig. 80.] Gobelin stitch is a useful variety; it lends itself to shading better than cross stitch. It is most often worked upon a fine single canvas, and it can be used as a raised stitch. Fig. 81 represents the stitch; it is worked similarly to tent stitch but over two threads in height and one in width, no matter whether the single or double thread canvas is used. In order to work it as a raised stitch, a line of some kind of padding is thrown across the canvas, and the stitch taken over it. This line can be arranged to show in part, in which case the material must be one presentable, such as a gold cord or narrow braid. The padding would be covered with stitching to form the background, and left exposed for the pattern, which would probably be a simple repeating form of some kind. Gobelin stitch is sometimes worked quite perpendicularly just over two threads in height. [Illustration: Fig. 81.] Irish stitch is pretty and quickly worked. It is usually taken perpendicularly over four threads of the canvas (fig. 82), though the number over which it is taken may vary. It is worked in such a way as to make the stitches of each succeeding row fit between those of the last row, and can be carried out either diagonally or in horizontal lines. What is known as Florentine work is carried out in a stitch of this kind. The pattern in this kind of work is taken horizontally across the ground in a succession of shaded zigzag lines. [Illustration: Fig. 82.] Plait stitch is often used for grounding. It resembles a simple plait laid in close rows to and fro on the ground. It can frequently be seen used upon the Italian XVIth century linen work, that in which the pattern is left in plain linen, and the ground worked in some colour. The diagram in fig. 83 shows the method of working the stitch. If carried out correctly, the back of the material should show a row of short perpendicular lines, each composed of two threads. [Illustration: Fig. 83.] Two-sided Italian stitch is descriptively named, for it is alike on both sides. This is frequently seen on XVIth and XVIIth century Italian linen work, similar to that mentioned above. A loosely woven linen makes a suitable ground material, for in the working the stitches must be pulled firmly, so as to draw the threads of the fabric together; this gives over the ground a squared open-work effect, which is very pretty. Fig. 84 explains the working of the stitch; it is shown in four stages, and is quite simple; the final result is a cross surrounded by a square. The lowest figure in the diagram shows the last stage, for the upper side of the square is filled in when the row above is worked. The drawing together of the web is not shown, but at a trial it should be done, for in that lies the special character of the stitch. The silk used must be just thick enough to well cover the linen, but not too thick, for then the work would be clumsy. [Illustration: Fig. 84.] [Illustration: Fig. 85.] Holbein stitch (fig. 85), also known as stroke or line stitch, is alike on both sides, and is often used in conjunction with cross and satin stitch, as well as alone. Very intricate and interesting patterns can be devised to be carried out with these three stitches, worked always with regard to the web of the linen. Squared paper could be used for planning the design, as the stitches would all be practically of the same length, and the pattern must be one that can be easily carried out alike on both sides. The stitch is worked as follows: An even running stitch, picking up as much material as it leaves, is taken all round the pattern. This does half the work on either side; the gaps are then filled up by the running stitch being taken in a contrary direction, which completes the pattern. Occasionally stitches go off at an angle from the running pattern; these are completed on the first journey by a satin stitch being made at the necessary point. The present diagram is a zigzag line, with one of these stitches going off at each angle. Fig. 86 is an example of a border design carried out in Holbein stitch. [Illustration: Fig. 86.] [Illustration: Fig. 87.] The stitch illustrated in fig. 87 is known as rococo stitch. It is a useful one for carrying out a conventional design, such as, to give a simple illustration, a flower sprig repeating in the spaces formed by a trellis pattern. The effect of the stitch when worked cannot be judged from this diagram; to see this properly a piece of canvas must be worked entirely over with it. The pattern chosen is usually one that lends itself to being worked in diagonal lines, as this stitch is best worked in that way. It entirely hides the canvas background, and is carried out very similarly to the oriental stitch in fig. 71. By the help of that diagram and description and the present one, which gives various steps, the worker will easily master the stitch, which is quite simple. The ordinary carrying out of the stitch is shown where the needle is at work, and in another part the diagram, by some loosened stitches, illustrates how to pass from one cluster to the next. Some fine examples of canvas work design, introducing a variety of stitches, may be seen in the Victoria and Albert Museum. These are large panels filled with foliage and flowers growing about architectural columns.[3] FOOTNOTES: [2] No. 879, 1904. [3] No. 517-522, 1896. CHAPTER VIII METHODS OF WORK Couching--Braid Work--Laid Work--Applied Work--Inlaid Work--Patch Work. COUCHING Couching is the name given to a method of embroidery in which one thread is attached to the material by another one. Sometimes not only one thread but a number of threads are couched down together; or it may be cord, braid, or metal thread that is attached to the material in this way. Fig. 88 shows some couching in progress. The method probably arose through the difficulty experienced in passing either coarse or very delicate threads through a material. Couching is constantly in use with gold thread embroidery, and it is further discussed in the chapter upon that subject, where also is described an entirely different method, which is to be recommended for couching other as well as for gold threads. [Illustration: Fig. 88.] Couching is useful in a variety of ways, _e.g._ for carrying out work in line or for outlining other embroidery, applied work for instance, which is frequently finished off by means of a couched thread; in the case of a difficult ground material, it is one of the most manageable methods of working. The geometrical open fillings of leaves and backgrounds are often composed of lines of thread thrown across and couched down at regular intervals. Fig. 89 is an example of a favourite filling of this kind. Embroidery stitches can be made use of for couching down other threads; a bunch of threads may be laid upon the material, and an open chain, buttonhole, or feather stitch worked over in order to fix it in place. [Illustration: Fig. 89.] Braid work is quickly and easily executed; it needs only a suitable pattern and a pretty braid for couching down to be most successful. There are a few points to be observed about the technique--the cut edge of a braid is awkward to manage, for it must, with a special needle, be taken through to the back of the material and there made secure and flat; for this reason the design should be so planned as to have as few breaks as possible. Interlacing strap work designs, of which a simple example is given in fig. 90, are very suitable for braid work. The thread that couches down the braid may be quite invisible, or, on the other hand, it may be made use of to further decorate the braid by being placed visibly across it, perhaps forming a chequering or other simple pattern, as shown in fig. 91. Ravellings of the braid may be used as invisible couching threads for stitching it down. Curves and sharp corners need special attention by way of extra stitches. The completed work is much improved by several hours' pressure under a weight. [Illustration: Fig. 90.] LAID WORK [Illustration: Fig. 91.] Laid work might be described as couching on a more extended scale--a given space is covered with threads taken from side to side in parallel lines close together, fixed at either extremity by entering the material. Further security is usually given by small couching stitches dotted down at intervals over the laid threads, or by throwing single lines of thread across in a contrary direction and tying these down at intervals with couching stitches. Yet another way is, to work a split or stem stitch over the laid threads, and thus fix them down. Fig. 92 shows a flower carried out in laid work. The tying-down threads can often be made use of in one way or another to further decorate, or to explain form, by means of contrasting colour, change in direction, and so on. The laid stitches in this flower are taken from the centre outwards and fixed in place by couched circular lines of thread. The centre of the flower has a geometrical filling, composed of a couched lattice pattern with French knots between. Conventional centres of this and like kinds are very pretty for embroidery flowers; such patterns as those shown in fig. 93 can often be seen in use, and they need only a trial to be frequently adopted. [Illustration: Fig. 92.] [Illustration: Fig. 93.] Laid work shows off the gloss and texture of silk to great advantage, which is due to the thread being laid upon the material without being cut up into small stitches. Floss silk is much used for the work; it must not be at all twisted in the laying down, since this mars the effect. The work is carried out in a frame; it is quickly executed and economical, the thread being practically all upon the surface. Owing to the length of the stitches, this is not a very durable method, so it should not be subjected to hard wear. The work has sometimes a flimsy, unsatisfactory appearance, probably because of these long stitches. It will be seen that the silk passing through to the back, and then immediately to the front again, takes up very little of the material. A method in use for giving greater strength in this way is to lay the silk first in alternate lines and to fill up the gaps thus left upon a second journey across the form. For added strength, use might be made of a linen thread at the back, as in the _point couché rentré ou retiré_ method that is discussed later. [Illustration: Fig. 94.] A gold thread outline gives a nice finish to laid work. If there is nothing in the way of an outline, and the pattern and ground are both covered with laid threads, the edges of the pattern are likely to look weak. Fig. 94 shows a leaf filled in with rather loosely laid threads and outlined and veined with gold passing, the veining answering the double purpose of fixing down the laid threads and veining the leaf at the same time. In this work, the colouring is frequently in flat tones, but if necessary it is quite easy to introduce gradation. Further variety can be obtained by a contrast in colour in the tying-down threads. APPLIED WORK The ancient Latin term _opus consutum_, and the modern French one _appliqué_, which is perhaps the name most commonly in use, both refer to the same kind of work; what is now called cut work is quite different from this, and is described elsewhere. Under the heading of applied work comes anything that, cut out of one material, is applied to another; it may have been previously embroidered, or it may be just the plain stuff. Both kinds can, as has been proved, be carried out with excellent effect, but much unsuitable and badly designed work has been done by this method, with the result that the very name has fallen into disrepute. The simplest kind of applied work is that in which the design, traced upon one material, then cut out along the outline of the pattern, is applied to another material, the junction of the two materials being hidden by a cord or suitable stitch. The applied work is most often flat, but it can be in slight or in strong relief. The texture of the materials employed may be an important factor in the result, for a contrast in material as well as in colour is often wanted; sometimes the former alone is sufficient. The choice of material depends very much upon the use to which the finished work will be put, but this simple form of applied work often relies for part of its effect upon an intrinsic interest in the material, so it is usually carried out with such materials as velvet, satin, or silk, either plain or figured. The design for this kind of work should be of a bold conventional type, such as large foliage with the character of the heraldic mantling; any naturalistic flowers, figures, or animals easily become grotesque. A simple outline to the forms is necessary, both because of the technical difficulties and for the effect of the finished work. This kind of work is hardly suitable for expressing fine detail; oftentimes it is seen from a distance, and many indentations on an outline sometimes tend to weaken it. Heraldry can be well expressed by this method. Fig. 95 is an example from a piece of XIIIth century work, a fragment of the surcoat of William de Fortibus, third Earl of Albemarle, who lived in the reign of Henry III.; the example can be seen in the British Museum. This method of work is also particularly suitable for such purposes as the decoration of wall surfaces, for hangings of various kinds, or banners; it can, however, be used for many other purposes, provided the design and the materials are well chosen. [Illustration: Fig. 95.] Owing to the difficulty of working upon some ground stuffs, the method has arisen of carrying out the embroidery upon an easily worked ground, such as linen; cutting it out, when finished, along the outline and applying it to the proper ground, the junction of the two materials being hidden by a cord or some equivalent. It is usually further completed by light sprays or some other kind of finishing touches being placed around the applied part, these worked directly on to the proper ground. This prevents the embroidery from looking too bald and detached from its surroundings, of which there is always a danger when it is carried out separately and then attached; if at all possible it is always more satisfactory to work directly on to the right ground. As a matter of fact it is almost always possible to do this; the workers of the XIIIth century, the period at which the art of embroidery was at its height, carried out the most exquisitely fine stitching and design on such grounds as velvet that had almost as long a pile as some varieties of plush. The famous cope of English work known as the Bowden cope, of which a detail is given in Plate I., is an excellent illustration of this point. Upon careful examination of the work it is apparent that between the stitching and the velvet there is a layer of material, composed either of fine linen or silk. This would be of great help in the carrying out of the stitching. It is exceedingly probable that this layer of fine material was at the commencement of the work laid completely over the velvet background of the cope; for one thing, the design, with its finely drawn detail, could easily be perfectly traced upon a surface of this kind and only imperfectly upon velvet; another advantage of this method would be, that the background would be kept quite free from dust and from getting soiled by the hands during the lengthy process of the work. The stitching would be carried through all the surfaces, and when finished, the fine surface layer would be cut away close round the edges of the design, which would be quite easily done. This method of working upon a difficult ground is well worth trying in place of the applied method. To return to the discussion of applied embroidery--let us suppose the embroidered piece to be just completed on its linen ground, still stretched in the frame in which it was worked. In another frame, stretch the background material and trace upon it the exact outline of the piece to be applied. Cut out the embroidered piece carefully round the edge, allowing about one-sixteenth of an inch margin outside the worked part, leaving, if necessary, little connecting ties of material here and there for temporary support. With fine steel pins or needles fix the cut-out work exactly over the tracing already made on the ground material, then make it secure round the edge with rather close stitches of silk placed at right-angles to the outline; with fine materials the raw edge of the applied part can be neatly tucked under and fixed in place by this overcast stitch. A cord is next sewn on to hide the fixing and give a finish to the edge. The colour of this cord is important, since its colour may increase the expanse of either the applied part or the ground. Sometimes a double cord is put round, and in this case the inner one is attached to the embroidery before it is cut out of the frame, and the second attached afterwards. The inner one is often of a colour predominating in the embroidery, and the outer one of the colour of the ground. Gold cord is very usual; if a coloured silk one is used it must be a perfect match. The ordinary twisted cord looks best attached invisibly; to do this, slightly untwist it whilst stitching, and insert the needle in the opening thus formed. Some kinds of flat braids look well with the fixing stitches taken deliberately over them and forming part of the ornamentation (see fig. 91). Bunches of silk are sometimes couched round with a buttonhole or other stitch, but whatever the outline may consist of, it should be a firm bold line. The work must be perfectly flat when completed. Puckering may occur through want of care in the preliminary straining or in the fixing on of the applied parts. Some materials are more easy to manage than others. The difficult ones can if necessary have a preliminary backing applied, which is useful also if the material is inclined to fray. The backing may consist of a thin coating of embroidery paste, or of tissue paper or fine holland pasted over the part to be applied. The more all this kind of thing can be avoided, the better the work, for pasting of any kind is apt to give a stiff mechanical look; also, if the work is intended to hang in folds any stiffness would be most impracticable. Even more than simpler work applied embroidery needs the finish of some light work upon the ground. Gold threads and spangles, arranged in fashion similar to the sprays in fig. 112, are very often used. Sometimes, instead of this, some small pattern in outline is run all over the ground in order to enrich it. INLAID WORK Inlaid work is in effect similar to the applied, and it is used for the same purposes. The difference with this is that both background and pattern are cut out and fitted into each other, instead of only one of them being cut out and laid on an entire ground. The method of work is economical, for there need be very little waste of material. What is left from cutting out the pattern and background for one piece can be used as ground and pattern for another and possibly companion piece. There is in Perugia a church which possesses a complete set of draperies of this description, that were made at a good period for this work, early XVIth century, and evidently were designed for the position they occupy. On festivals, the piers, pulpit, and parts of the wall are hung with these rose and gold-coloured hangings of inlaid work. The design is a conventional scroll-work pattern, and the various hangings have alternately the rose ground with gold pattern, and gold ground with rose pattern, the whole forming a rich and harmonious interchange of colour. [Illustration: Fig. 96.] Fig. 96 is an example of inlaid work. It is a XVth century tabard said to have belonged to Charles the Bold, and now in the Musée Historique at Berne. The pattern, it will be noticed, is planned on the counterchange principle, which is particularly well suited for this method of work. A very ancient piece of the same kind of inlaid work is the funeral tent of Queen Isi-em-Keb, dated about 980 B.C., which is in the Boulak Museum, Cairo. It is composed of thousands of pieces of gazelle hide dyed in various colours and stitched together so as to form a wonderful design.[4] To carry out the work--Stitch in a frame some holland to use as a background; this may be only temporary, being removed when the work is completed, or it may be left for additional strength. The materials for both background and pattern must first be carefully cut out. It is a good plan, where possible, to cut the two together so as to ensure exact similarity, for they have to fit together afterwards like the parts of a puzzle. The cut edges cannot be allowed to fray, so if there is any danger of this, precautions must be taken to prevent it, though the better way is to choose in the first place more suitable material. Leather is a particularly good example of one. Any pasting or backing which might be used for prevention of fraying would prevent also that possibility of exposing both sides of the work, which in inlay is sometimes a valuable quality; also, the stiffening which unavoidably results from pasting is rarely an improvement. When materials of different thicknesses are used together, the thinner one can be lined with fine holland so as to make it nearer equal in strength. After the materials are cut out the next process is to lay them in position on the prepared holland and tack them to it. Then, with an overcast stitch that must not be allowed to pierce the under surface, join all the edges together, and cover the stitches with a finishing cord or braid. The backing can now be removed if need be. PATCHWORK Patchwork can hardly attain to a high position amongst the various branches of embroidery. The main object of doing patchwork frequently is to make good use of valuable scraps of waste material. Unless, however, the product shows evidence of well thought out colour and arrangement, it cannot come under the heading of embroidery. Interesting results, however, of many kinds can be produced from this paint-box of brightly coloured scraps of material by ingenious mixing and shaping of them. Patchwork infers a rather more mosaic-like design than inlaid work, to which it is in some respects similar. The geometrically planned mosaic and inlay pavements that are to be seen so commonly in Italy and the East suggest great variety of patterns that could be applied to patchwork. The illustration at fig. 97 is a simple example taken from this source. Too often the results are only "alarming," as the Countess of Wilton expressively puts it, thinking, probably, of the patterns frequently seen upon cushions, patterns more resembling bright-coloured bricks set in cornerwise than anything else. They are the most unrestful looking things imaginable. The important elements of the work lie in the colour, shape, and texture of the pieces used, for upon the right selection the result wholly depends. The shapes chosen must be simple owing to the necessity of fitting and stitching them together, but there is plenty of variety obtainable with simplicity. The design may consist of one shape repeated or several. If only one, it is limited to a few geometrical figures, such as the square, hexagon, or shell shape; if more than one, there can be greater variety of pattern. Fig. 98 is an example in which four shapes are made use of, a large and small circle, an octagon, and an S-like twist. Four of these twists together make the figure that interlaces over the surface. Embroidery stitching can be added to patchwork; for instance, this example might have a neat border pattern worked on all the S-shapes, as suggested in the diagram, which would probably considerably increase its interest. Fig. 99 shows flowers springing from the base of the shell-form in use upon it. The embroidery could be simply carried out in one colour, or if a more gorgeous result were required, variety could be introduced in this way as well as in the ground, and a marvellous combination of intricate colour could be thus produced. [Illustration: Fig. 97.] [Illustration: Fig. 98.] For the work to be made up satisfactorily it is necessary that the shapes be accurately cut out. To ensure this, a metal plate is cut and all the shapes are taken from it; sometimes, in lieu of this, a pattern is cut out in stiff cardboard. Lay this pattern-shape on the wrong side of the material and pencil it round, then carefully cut out the stuff, leaving about a quarter of an inch for turning in. Next lay the pattern-shape upon a piece of stiff paper or thin card-board and again trace off the shape, this time cutting it out exactly to the pattern, tack the material to the paper, and stitch down the raw edges at the back. Lay the prepared patches on a table and put them in place by referring to the design, and then commence sewing the edges together with an overcast stitch on the wrong side. When all are sewn, remove the papers and flatten the seams with an iron. Any braid or stitch that may be required to mask the join is next put on; this may be made ornamental by interlacing knots at the corners, or by any other device that happens to suit the work. The last thing to be done is to put a neat lining upon the back to cover and protect the numerous raw edges. [Illustration: Fig. 99.] FOOTNOTE: [4] For further information see "The Funeral Tent of an Egyptian Queen," by Villiers Stuart. CHAPTER IX METHODS OF WORK--(_continued_) Quilting--Raised Work--Darning--Open Fillings--Darned Netting. Quilting is a method of working by which three materials are fixed together by more or less all-over stitching. It probably developed through the necessity of keeping the three layers in place. For practical purposes only, the sewing machine does the work excellently, but by making the stitching follow out some prearranged design, it is raised to the level of art. Plate III. is an interesting example showing what can be done in the way of design with the stitching over the surface. Embroidery may be added to the quilting, and this is often an improvement. The Eastern nations carry out marvellously intricate designs in quilting, and English XVIIIth century work of this kind shows Eastern influence strongly. A good example of this is a very interesting piece in the Victoria and Albert Museum.[5] The first aim in quilting was evidently warmth, and the name denotes one of the chief uses to which it is put. It is made use of also for curtains, infants' caps or gloves (see fig. 100), all these things requiring the three layers for warmth. The materials usually consist of a surface one, which can be silk, fine linen or anything else; an interlining of some softer material having a certain amount of spring in it, such as flannel, cotton wadding, or wool; and for the third, an underneath lining of some kind. A cord is sometimes inserted instead of the inner layer of stuff, the lines of stitching running along either side to keep it in place. Occasionally there are only the top and the under layer, with no intervening material. The stitch usually employed is a running, back, or chain stitch, and it can be of the colour of the surface, or a contrast to it. Gold silk is often seen upon a white linen ground. The chief interest in the work lies in the choice of pattern, such things as colour, variety of stitching, interest in material, are not made much of. In planning the pattern, use is made of the knowledge that the closely stitched parts will lie more flatly, so it frequently happens that the ground has a small diaper running over it, and the pattern part, being less worked upon, perhaps only outlined, stands out more and forms an effective contrast. [Illustration: Fig. 100.] RAISED WORK In the XIVth century raised work was commonly done, but few examples are known of date earlier than this. The raised effect is obtained by an interposed layer of padding, which is a good method of getting a certain kind of effect. It is perhaps wise to err on the side of too little rather than too much relief. An example of too much and also of a wrong kind is the English stump work that was popular in the XVIIth century, when figures were stuffed like dolls, the clothes made separately and attached, even to the shoes and stockings. Germain de St. Aubin, writing in 1769, describes with much admiration a kind of _broderie en ronde bosse_, apparently much the same thing and in equally doubtful taste, though the skill required to carry it out must have been considerable. The work, usually done in a frame, must be well carried out technically; the padding should be quite perfect in the form required before the final surface layer is worked over it, for this one will not make any deficiency right, but will only serve to show it up the more. Another point to be careful about is to make the padding stop well within the traced line of the pattern, otherwise the finished design will turn out much larger than was originally intended. The outline is sometimes worked round at the commencement, whereby its correctness is ensured. [Illustration: Fig. 101.] [Illustration: Fig. 102.] Many different materials are brought into use for padding purposes. One of the simplest and most durable is a running of thread as illustrated in fig. 101. The thread can be arranged so as to be thicker in the centre than at the edges by laying some extra stitches over that part. If a quite flat padding is required, the shape, cut out in cloth, felt, or parchment, is attached by stitches to the material as shown in fig. 102; the surface stitching would be taken across it. Cardboard, sometimes pasted on to the ground, is used for this purpose, but it is unsatisfactory in several ways; for instance, cardboard letters are procurable for embroidering initials upon linen, but they are not at all practical for anything that goes through the wash; moreover, the letters are sometimes of bad design. Cotton wool is used as a stuffing, its surface being usually covered over with muslin, but this again would not stand much wear of any kind, and so could only be used under certain conditions. [Illustration: Fig. 103.] Another good method is to couch down a hank of threads of fine cotton or perhaps wool as illustrated in fig. 103. For raised lines there is a special kind of string procurable that can be couched to the ground material at the required places. The padding, whatever it may be composed of, should be as nearly as possible of the same colour as the surface layer, in view of any after wear and tear misplacing the threads. [Illustration: Fig. 104.] The top layer of underlay must lie in direction contrary to the surface embroidery stitching, which is very often some form of satin stitch taken from side to side over the padding. Instead of going through the material it can be fixed on each side with a couching stitch, as in fig. 104. A stronger way than these would be that shown in fig. 129. Buttonhole is a good stitch for working over a padding; it would be worked solidly in the manner described and illustrated on page 117, but taken, as there shown, over a padding instead of over a flat surface. DARNING There is a most practical sound about darning; it can, however, be made good use of in embroidery as well as in plain needlework. There are two rather different kinds in use; in both the stitch is a running one and done in much the same way that a thin place would be darned in mending. One kind of darning is rather popular at the present moment, and examples of it may be familiar; it is a large, bold kind of work, often carried out with a coarse twisted silk. Upon the background, the lines of stitching usually run straight across or up and down, in the pattern, they radiate according to the shape of the form to be filled. The entire material is covered one way or another by the running stitches, and just one thread of the ground fabric is picked up where necessary at irregular intervals; a loosely woven linen is often chosen for working upon, one in which it is easy to pick up the single thread. Gradation of colour can easily be introduced; the design chosen is most frequently some kind of conventional flower and leafy scroll. This method of embroidery is seen to best advantage when used upon large surfaces. The second kind is called pattern darning; in it the stitches are picked up in some regular order, so that they form various geometrical patterns over the surface. It is worked by counting the threads of the fine linen ground and picking up a single thread or more in some regular sequence. The threads are run in parallel lines close together, either horizontally or vertically, so as to take advantage of the web of the fabric. The work is particularly pretty and not difficult, requiring only patience and good eyesight. Fig. 105 gives some simple examples of the work--The first is a chevron pattern, formed by picking up one thread and leaving about five each time; each succeeding row moves a step forward or backward as required to carry out the pattern. In the second example the darning is taken two ways of the material; in the centre, where it meets and crosses, it entirely covers the ground. A different colour might be used for each direction, which would look very well at the crossing in the centre. The four corners are filled up with a chequer darn; this each time picks up as much material as it leaves. The third example shows the darning stitch forming a diamond pattern. Samplers, dated early XIXth century, may be seen entirely filled with these pattern darns; they are covered with most intricate and beautiful sample squares showing various patterns in darning, and were possibly done in order to learn how to repair damask table linen. In a collection of early Egyptian work in the Victoria and Albert Museum, there is some pattern darning, dated VIth to IXth century, A.D., which proves it to be a very early method of embroidering. [Illustration: Fig. 105.] [Illustration: Fig. 106.] This pattern darning, however, is so pretty that it is often possible to make use of it in embroidery work for all kinds of purposes. It makes a very good background if there is sufficient space to show the pattern, if there is not, the irregular darning might be used instead, for it would in that case be just as good and much quicker to work. To pattern-darn the ground with the ornament upon it left in the plain material, perhaps not worked upon at all, is a very effective method of carrying out a design, see fig. 106 for example. Again it might very well be used for the conventional carrying out of draperies in the same way as in _point couché rentré ou retiré_.[6] The draperies on the figure in the frontispiece could easily be carried out with silk thread in the darning stitch, in fact this method of decoration more closely resembles the early couching than any other; it is not quite as satisfactory because the single threads of the background that are picked up prevent the ground showing nothing but silk. Bands of this work may be seen ornamenting needle books or work cases; it shows to best advantage when worked finely with floss or filosel silk, the coarse twisted silks are too thick for the purpose. OPEN WORK FILLINGS [Illustration: Fig. 107.] [Illustration: Fig. 108.] Patterns can be carried out in line, they can be worked quite solidly, and there is a method that lies between these two known as open filling. The open and solid fillings are often used together in the same piece of work; examples of this can be seen on the XVIIth century wool-work curtains, the large scrolling leaves are sometimes partly worked openly and a portion, possibly reflexed, filled in with solid stitches in gradating colour; see for an example Plate VIII. This has a very good effect, it prevents the work looking too heavy, shows up the form more clearly, and allows of more variety in the stitching. With open fillings the outline surrounding them must always be some firm decided line, such as is made by a band of satin or long and short stitch, or, in the case of larger forms, by several rows of different line stitches worked closely together, one inside the other, most likely in different shades of colour. A filling of open work can be carried out in a variety of ways; it may be a decorated trellis, a regular dotting of some kind, or some geometrical pattern in outline, or some light stitch such as an open buttonhole (see fig. 107), which would be treated each as a diapering over the form to be filled. It does not much matter what the filling is as long as it is dispersed pretty regularly over the space, giving the effect at a little distance of a light pervading tone, and when examined closely exhibiting an interesting small pattern. The open filling method can be used entirely throughout a design with very pretty effect; an example of this may be seen on an embroidered coverlet and pillow case in the Victoria and Albert Museum.[7] The pattern, composed of vine leaves and grapes, is carried out in dark brown silk on a linen ground, the leaves being all outlined with satin stitch. There is wonderful variety in the patterns, no two alike, which form the open fillings of the leaves; this makes them most interesting to examine, and is evidence of enthusiasm in their designing. Fig. 108, a leaf taken from this specimen, shows one method of filling a form with open work.[8] Fig. 109 shows a collection of patterns taken from the same piece of embroidery. It will be observed that small stitches of the same length compose the pattern, which can be designed upon squared paper and easily copied on to the linen ground by always picking up the same number of threads. To look well these little forms must be accurately worked, and they or similar kinds can be used upon flowers, leaves, beasts, draperies, or anything else quite indiscriminately. Fig. 110, from a cap in the Victoria and Albert Museum, is a drawing showing the same kind of open filling in use upon a bird.[9] [Illustration: Fig. 109.] [Illustration: Fig. 110.] A quicker way of carrying out these geometrical fillings is by using such forms as a lattice and throwing the lines from side to side across the shape to be filled, fixing them down, where they cross each other, with couching stitches; the interstices left between the threads can be filled in with little stars, crosses, or dots (see fig. 111). Buttonhole stitch, if made use of as an open filling, would be taken in lines straight across a form, the stitches being worked possibly two or three closely together and then a space, and so on. [Illustration: Fig. 111.] Fig. 112 suggests another method of lightly filling a leaf with a conventional veining and dotting. There is no limit to the variety which can be obtained in this method of working. [Illustration: Fig. 112.] Open fillings are effective for use upon any work that is intended to be seen with a light at the back; they make very decorative the various forms they fill, in such things as muslin window blinds, curtains, fire screens, whether hand screens or the larger type. For articles of this kind the patterns should be rather more solid and less lined in character; fig. 113, taken from a window blind exhibited in the Victoria and Albert Museum, exemplifies what is meant; most of the patterns illustrated in fig. 100 could be treated in a more solid manner if necessary, and would look equally well that way. When working upon transparent grounds special care must be taken with the reverse side as well as with the surface, for the work to be practically alike upon both sides; there must be no threads running from one form to another nor any visible fastening off of ends. [Illustration: Fig. 113.] DARNED NETTING [Illustration: Fig. 114.] Darned netting, or _lacis_, as it is sometimes called, might almost come under the heading of either lace or embroidery. It is used effectively with other kinds of white linen work, bands or squares of it being let into the linen; the contrast of the solid with the more open work gives a pretty effect. Fig. 114 is an example of this work. The darning is done on a plain netted ground which can be prepared by the worker if acquainted with netting, if not, the squares can be obtained ready for working upon. The pattern must be designed upon squared paper as for cross stitch work, then it is simply a question of following out the pattern upon the square net ground. Every square of the patterned part must be crossed in each direction by two lines of darning, which should about fill it up. The various lines are run in and out as continuously as possible, so as to avoid unnecessary fastening off or passing from one part to another. When a fresh thread is required, join it with a knot to the end of the last one (see figs. 165 and 166), and darn the ends in neatly with the other threads. These knots are often used in embroidery, for they are both strong and small. Detached stitches and parts must be worked by themselves; the thread should not be carried from one to the other. The work must be done in a frame and carried out with a blunt-pointed needle. The same thread is used for the netted ground and for the darned pattern. A method of work that the French call _dessein réservé_ is, in result, rather similar to this, but it is worked in just the reverse way. The pattern, whatever it may be, is left in the plain linen, and the background has certain threads in each direction withdrawn at regular intervals, whereby the effect of the squared net ground is obtained. FOOTNOTES: [5] No. 1564, 1902. [6] For description of this method, see page 238. [7] A piece belonging to Lord Falkland. [8] Fig. 18 is a drawing from the border of the same example. [9] No. 308, 1902. CHAPTER X METHODS OF WORK--(_continued_) Drawn Thread Work--Hem Stitching--Simple Border Patterns--Darned Thread Patterns--Corners--Cut or Open Work--Various Methods of Refilling the Open Spaces. This method of work is the acknowledged link between embroidery and lace, and was possibly the origin of the latter. Drawn work is that in which the threads of either the warp or the weft of the material are withdrawn and those remaining worked into a pattern, by either clustering together or working over them in some fashion. The cut or open work, as it is sometimes called, is that in which both warp and weft are in places cut away, and the open spaces thus formed are partly refilled with a device of one kind or another. The work is most often carried out in white thread on white linen, but coloured threads may occasionally be introduced with advantage. It is a durable method of work, and particularly suitable for the decoration of various house-linens, things that must undergo daily wear and wash; its rather unobtrusive character too makes it the more suitable for this purpose. The work is used in conjunction with other kinds of embroidery, perhaps making a neat finish to an edge, or lightening what would otherwise be too heavy in appearance. Drawn thread and cut work can be carried out with such detail and fineness as to really become most delicate lace. In this chapter, however, it is intended to be treated rather as an adjunct to other embroidery, therefore only elementary work will be discussed. More attention might with advantage be paid to the design of this kind of work, for more might be done with it than sometimes is. For one thing, there is very little variety in the patterns, and the result often seems a spidery mass of incomprehensible threads with no very perceivable plan; perhaps if more attention were paid to the proportion and massing of the solid and open parts, a better result might be attained. Neatness and simplicity are good qualities in the pattern, the method of work not being suited to the expression of the various larger and bolder types of design. DRAWN THREAD WORK In drawn work the question is how to treat the remaining warp threads after the weft has been withdrawn. They can be clustered in bunches in different ways with ornamental stitches added, or be entirely covered over with darning or overcast stitches in such a way as to form a pattern. The beginning of most drawn thread work is hem stitching, the two edges marking the limit of the withdrawn threads have usually to be hem stitched before any pattern can be carried out. One method of doing this is in progress in fig. 115. In order to work it, draw out three or four threads of the warp and tack the hem down to the top edge of the line thus made. The diagram explains the remainder of the working. [Illustration: Fig. 115.] Fig. 116 shows in the first example clusters of four threads drawn together at each edge by hem stitching in such a way as to form a ladder-like pattern. This and the one below are the ornamentations of a plain hem that are most commonly seen. The variation in pattern in the lower one is obtained by drawing together on the lower edge two threads from two consecutive bunches in the upper row instead of just repeating over again the same divisioning as before. These two examples are drawn to show the reverse, not the working side. [Illustration: Fig. 116.] Another way of disposing of the undrawn threads is to cover them with a kind of darning stitch, as illustrated in fig. 117. This kind of work is more solid than the other, and is for that reason very durable. This example is commenced at the right-hand corner, where the threads are drawn loosely in order to explain the working. The needle, which should have a blunt point, takes the thread to and fro alternately over and under two clusters of warp thread, drawing them together a little during the process; half-way down, the needle leaves the first set of threads and continues working with the second and a new set (see needle in diagram). When this is worked down to the base the needle takes the thread invisibly up the centre of the worked part to the point where it is required for the continuation of the pattern. The working of this simple pattern explains the principle upon which all kinds of pretty and more complicated designs can be carried out. The darning thread may be coloured; in a more intricate design two or three different colours might be introduced. [Illustration: Fig. 117.] [Illustration: Fig. 118.] Fig. 118 shows another pattern in the same kind of work. The darning stitch begins by working to and fro over and under four clusters of warp threads, part way down it continues over the two central ones only, leaving the outside clusters alone for the present. It finishes up, as at the beginning, to and fro over the four. The threads that were left are next covered with an overcast stitch, the adjoining ones in each case are caught together in the centre in order to form the X shape that recurs along the pattern. This darning kind of work is very closely allied to weaving, and especially the kind often seen in Coptic work, in which bands of the woof threads are purposely omitted in places, whilst the fabric is being made, in order that a pattern may be hand-woven in afterwards to take their place. Many beautiful examples of this work are on view in the Victoria and Albert Museum. [Illustration: Fig. 119.] In working a drawn thread border round a square shape, at each corner there comes an open space that requires a filling. Fig. 119 shows two wheels that are commonly used to ornament such places. The square in the first one has a preliminary groundwork of threads thrown across from corner to corner and from side to side, all meeting and crossing in the centre. The working thread is brought through at this point and the wheel commenced by taking a kind of back stitch over a bar and bringing the needle up beyond the next bar. It then takes the thread a step back and over the same bar and brings it up beyond the next; this goes on until the circle is of sufficient size, the stitches growing a little longer in each succeeding row. In the diagram the thread is loosened at the end to explain the working. The lower example is a commonly used wheel, which is made by the thread running round alternately over and under a bar until the wheel is completed. It should be as solid as the upper one, but is purposely left loose in the diagram. Either of the wheels could have a line of buttonhole stitching worked round the edge as a finish. This figure shows also the two usual ways of making firm the raw edges in cut work--the square shape is bound by an overcast stitch, and the round one by buttonholing. CUT OR OPEN WORK Cut work can be most interesting both to look at and to carry out. In the XVIIth century Italy was famous for its _punto tagliato_ or cut work. John Taylor mentions "rare Italian cutworke" in "The Praise of the Needle." This poem may perhaps be of interest to some; it was prefixed to a book of embroidery patterns of cut work named "The Needle's Excellency." It ran through twelve editions, the first of which was printed in 1621, and sold at "the signe of the Marigold in Paules Churchyard." Copies may be seen in the British Museum Library; in the Bodleian, Oxford, in the Ryland's Library, Manchester, and occasionally elsewhere. Fig. 120 shows a pattern taken from this book. There are several distinct varieties of cut work, for instance, that known as renaissance embroidery, which is usually composed of an arabesque design from which the background is cut away, leaving the pattern in the linen; the cut edges are outlined and protected by an overcast stitch. The pattern has to be specially planned with the idea of holding strongly together, but, if necessary, buttonholed bars can be added to form strengthening ties in any weak part. Another kind of cut work is that known as _broderie anglaise_, and sometimes as Madeira work, over which our grandmothers spent much time, perhaps without adequate result. The pattern is followed out by round holes pierced in the linen with a stiletto and then overcast round the edges. At the present day the work is done mostly by machinery, though hand work also is procurable. [Illustration: Fig. 120.] Perhaps the prettiest kind of cut work is that in which various-shaped spaces are cut out of the linen, and these filled in, in part, with some design built up with stitches. There are various methods of refilling the spaces cut out, one of the simplest is a diapering formed by some lace stitch, such as an open buttonhole. As a rule, the decoration of the open spaces is based upon bars of thread that are either composed of warp or woof threads left, instead of being cut away, or else upon fresh threads thrown across in various directions. The pattern is planned on and about these strengthening ties, and where necessary receiving support from them. An ingenious worker will soon devise ways of refilling the spaces by all kinds of interesting patterns, which can be geometrical or floral, or any kinds of objects that can be attractively represented in conventional fashion, such as figures, birds, insects, ships in full sail, or anything else. It must, however, be remembered that the various forms filling the spaces are for use in the way of strength as well as for ornament, and that the work is often put upon objects that have to endure daily wear. Open work is frequently mixed with other, and especially with white embroidery, and such things as counterpanes may be seen arranged with a chequering of alternate squares of embroidered linen and open work. Fig. 121 shows in progress a simple method of filling a space, mainly making use of the strengthening threads that have been left at regular intervals over the cut part. The threads are covered with an overcast stitch, and alternate squares of those that recur over the space are decorated with a cross. This is made by the working thread, after reaching the right point at the centre of an overcast line, being thrown across the space and then twisted back over itself to the starting-point, where it is in the right position for continuing the overcast line. The crosses being put in at the same time as the overcasting of the bars renders some forethought necessary to get each in at just the right time and place. [Illustration: Fig. 121.] [Illustration: Fig. 122.] Another kind of filling can be seen in progress in fig. 122. The stitches used in it are overcast and buttonhole. With the help of this last-mentioned stitch patterns of all kinds can be carried out, for each succeeding row of the stitch can be worked into the heading of the last row, and in this way it is possible to build up any required shape. This figure is a working diagram of a piece of cut work of which the completed square with its surrounding decoration can be seen in fig. 34. After overcasting the raw edges a diagonal thread is thrown across (E D on plan), upon which the pattern shall be built up; the thread is taken once to and fro and then twisted back again for a third crossing. Commence by overcasting the threads from point D, and upon reaching the part where the pattern is widened out, change the stitch to an open buttonholing (as shown on line B). It is worked openly in this way in order to leave space for another row of the same kind of stitching to be fitted in from the opposite side, which is the next thing to be done. Then an outer row of buttonhole stitch is worked on each side of the central bar and into the heading of the first row of stitching; this is shown in progress where the needle is at work. The entire pattern is carried out in this way, first laying down foundation threads in the necessary places and then covering them up with either overcasting or buttonhole stitch as required. It is easily possible to carry out flowers and all kinds of other things sufficiently well to make them pleasantly recognisable. CHAPTER XI EMBROIDERY WITH GOLD AND SILVER THREADS Introduction--Materials--Precautions for the Prevention of Tarnish--Ancient Method of Couching--Its various Good Points--Description of Working Diagram--Working a Raised Bar--Examples of Patterns Employed in Old Work--Illustrations upon Draped Figures--Usual Method of Couching--Couching Patterns--Outline Work--Raised Work--The Use of Purls, Bullions, &c. Gold and silver threads have always played an important part in embroidered work, and are a most valuable addition to the worker's stock of materials, for they give a splendour and richness that is not obtainable in any other way. They have been utilised from the earliest times in both embroidery and weaving; in scripture and other ancient historical writings there is abundant proof of this fact. The earliest form of gold thread in use was the pure metal beaten into thin plates and then cut into long narrow strips; that it was sometimes rounded into wire form is very probable. The first wire-drawing machine is said to have been invented by a workman at Nuremberg, but it was not until two centuries later that the drawing-mills were introduced into England. Gold thread, similar to that we now use, entwined about a silk one, is mentioned in a XIVth century Latin poem; also, it is known that in the XIIIth century our English ladies prepared their own gold thread before working it in, and it was of the same type as ours, the gold being spirally twisted round a thread of silk or flax.[10] To be a skilled worker with gold thread needs considerable application and practice. There is much variety in the work, some branches of it being more simple to manipulate than others. It is desirable for all workers to understand something of gold work, for it is frequently employed in conjunction with other embroidery, as well as alone. Fig. 123 shows a couched line of gold thread outlining some silk embroidery, which gives a pretty jewel-like effect of something precious in a setting of gold. [Illustration: Fig. 123.] Gold embroidery may be divided roughly into three main classes, outline work, solid flat work, and raised work. Outline work is, as far as technique is concerned, one of the simplest forms of gold embroidery. The pattern is followed round with a gold cord or double thread of passing, fixed either visibly or invisibly with a couching stitch; the work needs but an interesting design and suitable background to be most successful. Fig. 124 illustrates a portion of a design, carried out with gold cord upon a velvet ground, which has been further enriched by the addition of little applied white flowers. The raised work, and that which introduces the use of purls and bullions, is at once more complicated, and perhaps hardly as pleasing as the simpler flat work. [Illustration: Fig. 124.] The method of applying the gold to the material is usually by couching of one form or another, for most of the threads are too inflexible to be stitched through. The ground, if it shows at all, is usually a rich stuff, such as velvet, satin, or silk, in order to be in keeping with the valuable thread. If the ground chosen is difficult to work upon, the embroidery is carried out upon linen, and the finished work afterwards applied to the ground. If both background and pattern are solidly embroidered, linen can be used as the permanent ground. It is usual to have two layers of material for working upon, for gold threads are heavy and require the support of the double ground. There are several advantages in this double material, as the old workers knew, for we find they commonly used two. The under-layer can be a strong linen, and the surface one silk, satin, or a fine linen, as required. MATERIALS A variety of metal threads are manufactured for embroidery purposes, and they are all obtainable in gold, silver, or imitations of these; aluminium thread has been made lately, and has the advantage of being untarnishable, but its colour and quality do not seem quite satisfactory, and it is not popular. The imitation threads are never worth the using; they tarnish to a worse colour, and are more difficult in manipulation; what goes by the name of real gold, is silver or copper, plated with the more valuable metal. The pure gold thread is said not to be so practical as this, being too brittle; but somehow or other it was more successfully manufactured in the past than nowadays, for some gold work six centuries old exhibits beautifully bright threads. The following list comprises the chief threads used in this work:-- _Passing._--This is a bright smooth thread, resembling in appearance a gold wire; it consists of a narrow flat strip of gold spirally twisted round a silken thread. It can be obtained in different sizes, the finest qualities going by the name of tambour. Most passing has to be couched on to the material, but it is possible to stitch in the tambour like ordinary thread. _Purl._--This resembles a smooth round hollow tube of metal, very pliable and elastic; when pulled lengthways it is found to be constructed like a closely coiled spiral spring. It is manufactured in lengths of about one yard, and for use it is cut into small sections of any required size with scissors or a knife. There are several varieties of purl, namely, the smooth, rough, check, and wire check. The smooth has a bright polished appearance, which is obtained by a flat gold wire being spun spirally round; the rough has a duller and more yellow appearance, which is owing to the wire having been rounded; the check is bright and sparkling, and consists of the flattened wire spun in a different way, so that parts of it catch the light and sparkle; the wire check is the same thing, but duller and of a deeper yellow, owing again to its being made of the round wire. _Bullion._--This is the name given to the larger sizes of purl. _Pearl Purl._--This is manufactured in the same spiral tube-like fashion as the other purl, but the gold wire is previously hollowed out in this [inverted U] shape, the convex side being the one exposed. This, when spun round, has the appearance of a string of tiny gold beads. It is frequently used as an outlining thread. Various gold twists and cords can be obtained; they are composed of several threads twisted up in the usual cord fashion, each ply consisting of gold spun round a silk thread. _Plate_ is a flat strip of metal commonly about one-sixteenth of an inch wide; it can be obtained in different widths. _Spangles._--These are small variously shaped pieces of thin metal, usually pierced with a hole in the centre for fixing on to the material. They are frequently circular in shape, and either flat or slightly concave; the latter are the prettier. Many fancy shapes also are obtainable, but they are inclined to look tawdry, and suggestive of the pantomime. _Cloth of Gold and Silver._--This is a fabric manufactured of silk, with gold or silver thread inwoven in the making. It is not now so much used as formerly, when it was in great request for robes of kings and other high dignitaries of church or state. A special make of silk for couching down gold thread is obtainable in various colours. It is called horsetail or sewings, and is both fine and strong. Padding for use in raised gold work is usually yellow, and for silver, white or grey. Yellow soft cotton, linen thread, or silk, are all used for the purpose. Various precautions can and must be taken to keep the gold thread bright, for under unfavourable circumstances it rapidly assumes a bad colour; the silver thread is even more liable to tarnish than the gold, and it turns a worse colour, going black. There is a special paper manufactured to wrap threads in, and the stock supply should be kept in a tin or air-tight bottle; this is in order to protect the metal from damp, which is most injurious; to do this is a difficult matter in the English climate. Linen used for working upon, or as backing, is best unbleached, for sometimes the chemicals used in the bleaching process have a deleterious effect upon the gold; a piece of gold embroidery wrapped up in cotton wool for preservation has been found completely spoiled by some chemical in this wool, which proved more disastrous than exposure to air would have been. Gas, strong scents, handling (especially with hot hands), all have an evil effect, and so should be avoided as much as possible. Work even whilst in progress should be kept covered as much as is practicable, and should not be allowed to hang about; the quicker it is done the better. A piece of finished work can be polished up with a leather pad or a brush, similar to a housemaid's brush for silver-cleaning purposes; this of course, must be used with care. ANCIENT METHOD OF COUCHING Gold thread can be couched on to the material in two distinct ways, one of them in use at the present day, the other one that was commonly practised in the XIIIth and XIVth centuries. About the second half of the last-named century the earlier method was supplanted by the present one. Almost every example of early gold thread work exhibits this obsolete and ingenious method of couching. The Syon cope and the Jesse cope in the Victoria and Albert Museum may be mentioned as famous examples. M. Louis de Farcy[11] draws especial attention to this beautiful method of working, to which he gives the name _point couché rentré ou retiré_, and strongly urges its revival; he points out many distinct advantages it has over the method now in use. The durability is very great, owing to the couching thread being upon the reverse side, where it is protected from wear and tear, and being out of sight can be made strong and durable. If a thread is accidentally broken it does not necessarily give way along an entire line, as may easily happen in the present method. A proof of this point can be seen upon the beautiful Ascoli cope lately in the Victoria and Albert Museum, about which there has been so much discussion of late as to in what country it originated, and who was the rightful owner. The early couching worked entirely over the background of the cope is in a state of perfect preservation; portions of the gold thread drapery have here and there been couched by the other method, the tying down threads have, in those parts, mostly disappeared, and the gold hangs loose and ragged upon the surface. By the way in which it is worked, there results a particularly pleasing and even surface, agreeably varied by play of light and shade. Another advantage of the ancient method is that the completed work is very flexible; this point will appeal to those who have experienced the extreme stiffness of a large surface of ordinarily couched metal threads. Flexibility is an invaluable quality for any work destined, like copes and curtains, to hang in folds. Representations of draperies upon figures are well expressed, for by the way in which they are worked there comes an indentation along the lines marking the folds; this emphasises them rather happily, and also breaks up the surface in a satisfactory manner. Fig. 125 is a diagram that will aid in explaining the working, it gives both the front and the reverse side. This has been found to be the simplest and the most practical method of obtaining a result similar to the early examples; there is, however, no means other than examination of result whereby to get at this obsolete method. To all appearance there is upon the surface a kind of satin stitch worked in gold passing, the stitches carrying out some geometrical pattern, such as a chevron or lattice; but at the back a linen thread is seen running to and fro in close parallel lines in the same direction as the surface thread, and at regular intervals encircled by the gold passing, just as if this was intended to couch down the linen thread. [Illustration: Fig. 125. Front. Back.] The ingenuity and satisfactoriness of the method must be admitted by all who give it a trial, and it is interesting to conjecture how it may have arisen. Possibly weaving suggested it to the embroiderers, for, take away the intervening material, and it is not unlike woven work, and these two arts would very likely be the accomplishment of the same person. Perhaps the commonly used method of taking a coarse thread through to the back (see fig. 167) suggested it, for this is briefly the whole process. In order to try the couching, a two-fold ground material must be firmly stretched in an embroidery frame, a strong linen underneath and a thinner closely woven one upon the upper side. Some fine gold passing and some strong linen thread, well waxed, are required to work with, also an embroidery needle with long eye and sharp point, the size, which is important, depending upon the threads in use; the needle has to pierce the two-fold ground material, making a hole only just large enough for the passage of a double gold thread. If the linen has a regular even thread the drawn pattern shown in the diagram can be worked by counting the threads of the ground fabric, but if this is difficult or impossible, as in the case say of a twilled surface, a careful tracing must be made upon the linen; a beginner may find this the easier way in any case. The end of the gold thread, which by now, in readiness for working, will be wound upon the bobbin or spindle, must be passed through to the back at the starting-point, the top left-hand corner in the diagram. The linen thread secures it at the back and then comes through to the front upon the traced line exactly beneath (see arrow on plan). It now encircles the gold thread which the left hand draws out rather tautly, and then returns by the same hole to the back, pulling the metal thread through with it. There is knack in taking the gold thread only just through and leaving the completed stitch straight and flat upon the surface. The process is now repeated, the linen thread coming through to the front again upon the next traced line, and so on. When the base of the pattern is reached the gold thread is taken through once upon that line, and then commences a like journey upwards. This practically explains the couching; variety is obtained by change of pattern, but the method of carrying it out is always the same. Figs. 126, 127, and 128 show three patterns taken from old examples of this couching. [Illustration: Fig. 126.] [Illustration: Fig. 127.] The difficulties in technique are easily overcome; an important aid in this matter is the use of materials exactly right; this means needles and threads of the correct size, the ground composed of suitable fabrics, and properly strained in a frame. The aim in the working is to get each stitch perfectly flat and straight in its correct place in spite of the obstinacy of the metal thread; to avoid making the perforation larger than necessary, for this makes the work clumsy; to make each succeeding line lie closely beside the last one, for the surface must be of solid gold, and if the ground showed through in places it would impoverish the effect. [Illustration: Fig. 128.] The direction of the couched thread is usually either vertical or horizontal, and it may be both of these in the same piece of work. The reason of this may be because it is worked by counting the threads of the fabric, or because the pattern is always treated as a diaper and placed upon the surface without regard to contour. The exception to this rule of direction is when the couching is taken along a stem or the narrow hem of a robe to form the border, or along a girdle, it then follows the direction of the band, this being evidently the most straightforward and satisfactory method to use for the purpose. [Illustration: Fig. 129. Front. Back.] The _point couché rentré ou retiré_ is an excellent method to use for working a raised bar. Fig. 129 shows the front and reverse sides of a bar worked by it. The gold thread comes cleanly through from the back of the material instead of being clumsily doubled upon the surface, and the durability is evidently great. The linen thread, it will be seen, runs to and fro at the back, at each turn securing the gold thread. [Illustration: Fig. 130.] In fig. 130 this couching is to be seen in use upon drapery. It is taken entirely over the exterior surface of the cloak, and upon the crown, sceptre, and model of the church. The lines expressing the folds of drapery are in this case shown by the couching at these places being taken in a different direction. Fine gold passing is used for the couched thread, much finer than can possibly be shown in the drawing, and the pattern chosen for the couching down is a chevron. The other parts of the work are done with silk thread in a fine chain or split stitch. The play of light upon the varied surface of the golden cloak is very beautiful; the drawing of the figure is perhaps primitive, and, regarded from the draughtsman's point of view, somewhat ludicrous; it is however sufficiently good to express all that its author intended, and there is something very human in this dignified little king who would not have you forget that he founded a church. The king who is personified here is Edward the Confessor, so the church is Westminster Abbey, of which he was the founder. [Illustration: Fig. 131.] The Madonna and child forming the frontispiece of the work is another example of this couching. The method of expressing the folds of drapery is slightly different from that employed upon the king's robes. All drapery carried out in this stitch is worked in somewhat the same fashion, that is, the couching running to and fro between the lines marks each fold as roughly shown at fig. 131. This method leaves an indented line to express the drapery, which is a more satisfactory way than a simple line of dark colour worked over the gold, as in more modern work. The indented line is often further emphasised by a line of dark silk stitched along it, which is done in this case. The figures are taken from the Jesse cope in the Victoria and Albert Museum;[12] this vestment, with its red silk background and its finely coloured and drawn ancestors of Christ posed amongst encircling vine branches, is a most beautiful, though sadly mutilated, example of XIIIth century design and workmanship. MODERN METHOD OF COUCHING In the usual form of couching the gold thread is attached to the material by fine strong silk. The thread is fastened down as a rule two-fold, sometimes even three-fold; this method is both quicker and more effective than couching each thread separately. As the couching thread is necessarily in evidence, decorative use is often made of it as well as practical; the stitches, for instance, may be planned so as to carry out some pattern (see fig. 132) instead of being put down at random. There is no limit to the variety of the patterns that can be devised in this way. Decorative use can be made of the colour of the couching thread; a hot colour warms the tone of the gold and a cool one does the reverse; and the more contrasting the colour the more it is in evidence. [Illustration: Fig. 132.] [Illustration: Fig. 133.] The gold thread may be couched solidly in straight lines, as the above figure shows, or it may be arranged in wavy lines either close or open, as in fig. 133. The thread is waved by bending it round the pointed end of a piercer just before fixing down. This waving line is particularly suitable for the gold thread, since the slight change in direction allows the light to play upon the metal very prettily. For this reason gold is often couched solidly in circular or shell form over a ground. In gold embroidery, therefore, the direction of the thread is a specially important matter. [Illustration: Fig. 134.] At the end of a line a technical difficulty sometimes arises in the turning of the thread, which is apt to be clumsy. This difficulty is overcome in various ways; the most usual is to return the doubled thread as neatly as possible and continue the next line; another is to cut the thread sharp off, secure it close to the end with a double stitch, and recommence in like fashion; the thread can sometimes be passed through to the back and brought up in position for working the next line. The fine point of a leaf may present difficulties in the same way; sometimes one of the two threads is temporarily let slip and the point completed with the single one, the left thread being picked up upon the return (see fig. 134). For such occasions as this it is more practical to wind the two threads of passing upon separate bobbins, and bring them together at the working. Another way of overcoming the point difficulty is shown at fig. 135. RAISED WORK The couched gold threads may be raised in parts by means of some kind of padding interposed between it and the ground. They are very effective so treated, since the raised metal catches and reflects the light in a pleasing manner. This raising of the thread, however, has been carried to such extremes as to resemble goldsmith's work rather than embroidery, and it is then hardly in good taste. [Illustration: Fig. 135.] A simple method of raising the gold is to lay down lines of string at stated intervals over the ground. The well-known form called basket stitch is done in this way; fig. 136 illustrates this stitch, a part of the square is left unworked in order to expose the under-layer of string. To carry out the diagram--First couch down the lines of string at regular intervals over the surface, then commence laying on the gold by carrying a doubled thread of passing over two bars of string, and there fixing it down to the material, then over two more and fixing it down again, and so on to the end of the line. This is exactly repeated for a second line of passing, then, for the next two lines, commence by carrying the passing for the first stitch over one bar only, and for the remainder of the line over the two as before. This process repeated makes the wicker-like pattern so frequently seen in gold work. It can be used as a filling or as a border. It is evident that with the same arrangement of strings many other patterns could be carried out by varying the points of couching down. [Illustration: Fig. 136.] Another way in which string is used for padding the gold is illustrated in fig. 137. The pattern, which in the first part is two diamond shapes and a border line, is laid down in string. The doubled gold thread is then taken horizontally to and fro in close parallel lines over the part to be worked, and fixed by couching stitches at necessary intervals; wherever else these stitches may be put, one must always be placed upon each side of a raised line to make it sharp and clear. Other kinds of padding are used in this method of work; for instance, a lozenge shape may be stuffed with layers of soft cotton, as shown in the second part of this same diagram. Sometimes most complicated patterns are laid down in string and covered with gold thread in this way, _e.g._:--fig. 138 shows an interlacing pattern taken from the border of an orphrey upon a XVth century chasuble. [Illustration: Fig. 137.] THE USE OF FANCY GOLD THREADS A cursory glance must be given to the use of purls and other fancy threads, but these are mostly used nowadays for badges on uniforms, or for masonic purposes, and are carried out by the trade. These threads, when tarnished, are very difficult to clean, they easily turn a bad colour and catch the dust, and for real embroidery purposes are not as satisfactory as the plainer threads. [Illustration: Fig. 138.] Purl and bullion must be cut very accurately into pieces of the required size, and attached to the material as a bead would be. The metal must be as little as possible touched with the fingers; the cut pieces can be placed upon a tray lined with some soft springy substance, such as felt, in order to be easily picked up with the point of the needle, and they can be adjusted to their right position upon the work by the aid of the flat end of the piercer; unnecessary handling may be avoided in this way. These threads, laid over padding either straight across or at an angle, may be used for the stems or petals of conventional flowers. The various kinds, dull, bright, and check, may perhaps be used in succession. Plate is frequently taken to and fro over the same kind of forms over a prepared padding, being caught down by a stitch on each side by a method the French call _le guipé_. It needs skill and practice to do this well. Crinkled plate used to be couched on to work, but now is not much used in this way. Pearl purl is most often seen outlining a form filled in with the other threads; an enlarged example of this thread lies vertically down the centre of fig. 139, the end of it is pulled out, in order to show the formation of the thread. [Illustration: Fig. 139.] Spangles are usually sewn down separately; they may be attached by stitches from the centre outwards or by the thread being passed through a piece of purl and then returning to the back through the hole in the centre of the spangle. Fig. 139 illustrates another way of using these spangles to form a long tail shape. Here again they are attached with the help of pieces of purl. In the same figure are given some illustrations of the use of the fancy threads; to learn more about them the student should examine XVIth to XVIIIth century gold work during which period they were in popular use. FOOTNOTES: [10] See Dr. Rock's "Textile Fabrics." [11] In _La Broderie du Onzième Siècle jusqu'à Nos Jours_. [12] No. 175, 1889. CHAPTER XII LETTERING, HERALDRY, AND EMBLEMS The Uses of Lettering--Marking--Monograms--Heraldry--Emblems. Lettering of one kind or another is frequently in request. It is useful for inscriptions, verses, names attached to figures, the signing and dating of work, and for the more ordinary purposes of marking linen and so forth. Signed and dated work has peculiar attractiveness: it can be placed amidst definite historical associations: an authenticated piece of embroidery, say of the reign of King Richard Coeur de Lion, Queen Anne, or George III., would be an historical document and a standard to gauge the period of any uninscribed examples. Although few of us are likely to possess treasures of the XIIIth century, signed and dated pieces of our great-grandmothers' embroideries are interesting personal landmarks in family history, so for this reason, amongst others, unostentatious marks of identification are by no means out of place. Descriptive names or verses are also a means of amplifying the story and so enlivening our curiosity. [Illustration: Fig. 140.] Lettering can answer a further purpose still; it can enrich the design, for, if rightly chosen and employed, letters are very decorative. They may be seen forming a border to a piece of work. The three letters in fig. 140 were taken from an XIth century embroidered cope, which has a fine inscription running round the entire lower margin.[13] The names of the saints and martyrs standing in rows in the columned arcades, affected at certain periods, are sometimes inscribed in the mouldings of the arches above them or along the base; kneeling donors can be seen naïvely presenting a little scroll inscribed with prayers, and many other interesting uses of lettering might be recalled. The names St. Luke and St. John, shown in fig. 141, are taken from a beautiful embroidered example of Gothic lettering. [Illustration: Fig. 141.] Illuminated manuscripts supply fine examples of initial letters and writing. A visit to the show-cases in the King's Library at the British Museum will be of great interest to the student; the illustrations also to be seen there, the beautifully composed and coloured figure-subjects, would be equally suitable for carrying out in embroidery; indeed it is very probable that many of the figure compositions on the old copes and chasubles were derived from such a source. Fig. 142 gives as an example of an alphabet one taken from a Benedictionale of late XVth century date. [Illustration: Fig. 142.] A practical purpose to which lettering is often put is the marking of linen. To learn how to do this used to be a recognised part of a girl's education, and was one of the objects of the sampler. Marking can be anything from a simple cross-stitch initial to an elaborately worked monogram. For simple work the corner to be marked can be tacked upon _toile cirée_, a material not unlike American cloth. Tambour frames also are useful for this purpose. Fig. 143 shows the stitches most used for working simple letters such as those seen upon the old samplers. The first is cross stitch, which for marking purposes should be worked so as to be alike on both sides. To do this requires some forethought whilst the work progresses, and necessitates an occasional doubling of one of the crossed stitches, in order to reach the point for commencing the next one and at the same time preserving a cross on each side. [Illustration: Fig. 143.] The second stitch in the diagram shows a square on one side and is a cross upon the reverse. This makes a good stitch for the purpose, is quite simple to manipulate, and is easier to manage than the cross on both sides. The third example is made use of when a larger letter is required. It is known as blanket stitch, and is used for the marking of such things. It may be further completed by a neat back stitch just fitting along the outside edges of the other stitches. [Illustration: Fig. 144.] Many embroidery stitches are suitable for marking purposes, such as satin, chain, stem, back, rope, basket, and others. The Oriental stitch which carries out the letter in fig. 144 is a good one when both sides can be seen, for though these are quite different, it is presentable upon either. The diagram shows the appearance of the stitch on the front and on the back. A simple initial letter may be made interesting by enriching the ground behind it with some form of diaper patterning. An example of this is shown in fig. 145. The letter could be worked in a plain satin stitch over a padding of threads, and the pattern on the ground in a darning stitch and French knots, or in any other suitable way. [Illustration: Fig. 145.] A monogram carried out in embroidery can be a very pretty thing; there is scope in it for ingenuity both of design and of stitching. The letters may be decorated and tied up with a floral spray, strap work or a combination of several _motifs_. Fig. 146 shows a monogram composed of the letters I. G. ornamented and bound together by a ribbon-like interlacing band. The letters are worked in a raised satin stitch, and a running stitch in another colour threads in and out down the centre of each letter. The outline is stem stitch in a darker colour. The band is outlined on both sides with an overcast stitch, which always makes a particularly neat edging for anything of this sort. The centre is filled with a row of French knots, the tassels are worked in close lines of stem stitch, and the petals of the small flowers in satin stitch, finished off with a French knot at the centre. [Illustration: Fig. 146.] Another mark of proprietorship and origin was the shield of arms of the owner, which introduces the subject of heraldry. A shield executed with the needle is often seen, and looks particularly rich. Heraldry is an intricate science, full of pitfalls for the unwary, and demands an earnest study of its complex rules and regulations. Every one should know at least some fine examples of great national shields such as the Lions of England, the Fleur de Lys of France, and the Imperial Eagle. Examples of shields surmounted by helmets and crests with quaint and flowing mantling are to be seen in all kinds of art work. Various stitches and methods specially lend themselves to the expression of heraldry. Those which, like cross stitch, impose a certain simplicity, are very good. Another suitable medium is applied work, of which an illustration can be seen on page 95. Gold and silver thread are very useful here, and look exceptionally rich when couched in the XIIIth century method. Fig. 147 is an embroidered coat of arms dated the first half of the XIVth century. It is executed almost entirely in the _point couché rentré ou retiré_. The arms are those of the Clinton and Leyburne families--_argent, 6 cross crosslets fitchée 3, 2 and 1 on a chief azure, two mullets or_. [Illustration: Fig. 147.] In designing heraldic work care must be taken to introduce no debased forms such as were current after the XVth century. The XIIIth and XIVth centuries are the periods considered best for the study of this subject. Heraldry sometimes adds historic interest to embroideries; owners or donors may be traced by their coat of arms appearing upon some part of the work. [Illustration: Fig. 148.] Allied to heraldry and marking are a number of decorative objects that have acquired peculiar traditional significance of an emblematic or symbolical nature, hard to define. The Cross of Christianity may be instanced, the olive branch of peace, the mirror of truth, and the snake of eternity. The name of a saint is frequently declared by an emblem accompanying the figure. In appropriate surroundings emblems may often be used effectively. For knowledge about these things the student must go to various books that deal with the special subject. Fig. 148 is an illustration of the well-known emblem, the Pelican in her piety. FOOTNOTE: [13] This cope is full of interest in every detail. See M. Louis de Farcy, _La Broderie du Onzième Siècle jusqu'à Nos Jours_. Plate II. CHAPTER XIII THE GARNITURE OF WORK Finishing off--Making up--Edges--Use of Cord-making Appliance--Cord Twisted by Hand--Knotted Cord--Fringes--Tassels--Knots. When the embroidery is completed, the making up, the addition of tasteful finishing touches, and such things as fringes, tassels, and linings, must all be considered. These will, if judiciously made use of, give a distinction and character to the work that might be missed if due care and thought were not expended upon such details. This part of the work might be compared to the garnishing of a boiled fowl with lemon and parsley, a minor detail, but a very effective one. It is possible, by the help of such expedients, to emphasise certain colours and bring out points of the design, as well as to give completeness and finish. Such things as fringes, cords, and tassels are often more satisfactory when made by the worker and with materials like those used in the embroidery, for such will be more likely to be in keeping with the character of the rest, and to be more interesting in detail. In the finishing off the same taste and neatness of execution is required as in the embroidery. Good work can be very much marred in the making up; on the other hand, a little extra interest added on a part not often seen renders it doubly valuable. The mounting of certain things should not be attempted at home; boxes should be handed over to the cabinetmaker, books to the bookbinder, and so on, for it is not possible for any one not an expert to do these things properly, and even good work can look poor if badly set. The question how to appropriately finish off an edge often arises; let it be hem stitched rather than plain hemmed; or a narrow line of drawn thread work may be inserted, for an open-work border is frequently a set-off to the rest of the embroidery. If a binding is placed over the edge this can be fixed with a pretty stitch, or the stitch alone can bind the edge, one such as buttonhole, overcast, or that shown in fig. 76. With some stitches the edge of the material can be rolled over a piping cord and the stitch worked over the thus emphasised margin. The difficulty of procuring cord suitable for use with embroidered work makes the appliance illustrated at fig. 149 a useful possession.[14] The cords made upon this wheel can be of any thickness, according to the number of plies and the substance in each. Different colours and materials can be twisted up together, such as a gold and silk thread. [Illustration: Fig. 149.] To make a three-plied cord, cut three equal lengths of thread rather longer than the required cord is to be, as it shortens in the twisting. Make a loop at each end of the thread, or, better still, attach tiny metal rings at the ends. Hook the threads in position as shown in the diagram, and place the instrument far enough from the clamped block of wood to make the threads that are stretched between quite taut. Now commence the twisting by turning the large wheel quickly with an even motion in the direction that continues to twist up the threads, keeping the left hand on the instrument to steady it, for it gradually slides towards the block as the twisting continues. When corkscrew-like knots begin to come in the threads, stop revolving the wheel, unhook the two outer threads and place them both on the central hooks together with the third thread, keeping them taut during the process. Revolve the large wheel again, in the direction opposite to that in which it has been working, and continue turning until the cord is tightly twisted up. It is now made, and can be removed from the machine. The second twisting had better be over-done rather than not sufficiently, since if over-twisted the cord rights itself upon being removed from the machine. A two-ply cord is made in like manner, by using first the two outer hooks only, and then placing both threads together on the central hooks. There is a simple way of making this cord without the help of any instrument, but it is not possible to get the perfect result that the machine gives. It is most easily carried out by two persons, though one can do it. In order to make a two-plied cord, by hand, take a thread rather more than twice the length of the required cord. Let each worker take an end of the thread in the right hand and commence to twist it between the thumb and finger, each working in direction opposite to the other and keeping the thread at tension. When twisted as much as possible without getting corkscrew-like knots in the thread, the cord must be doubled in half by holding it at the centre and bringing together the two ends, which are then knotted. During the entire process the thread must be kept under tension. If one end of the cord is now let go it should immediately twist itself up tight, and remain in that position. If any small knots form during the process run the cord sharply through the fingers once or twice to straighten it out. [Illustration: Fig. 150.] [Illustration: Fig. 151.] [Illustration: Fig. 152.] Another pretty kind of cord is a knotted one. It is made in the hand in most primitive fashion by using the two first fingers as crochet hooks. The thread used for making it should be stout and firm. To commence making the cord, knot two pieces of thread together and place the threads in position as shown in fig. 150. The next step is shown in fig. 151, which is the index finger of the left hand bringing the darker thread through the loop. Fig. 152 shows this thread looped on the finger, the cord held in the left hand instead of the right, and the right hand in process of drawing the lighter thread, which was the last loop, tight. The next move, fig. 153, shows the right-hand first finger making the new loop with the lighter thread, and fig. 154 shows the loop on the finger, the cord passed over to be held in the right hand again, and the left hand this time pulling the last loop tight. Continue making the cord by following out the last four positions consecutively. [Illustration: Fig. 153.] [Illustration: Fig. 154.] A very usual finish to an edge is a fringe. This can be made either by fraying out the material or by adding a detached fringe, either knotting it in or attaching it in some other way. If the fringe is to be a frayed-out one, the best way to do it is to first draw out a few warp threads where the head of the fringe is to come, then hem stitch the upper edge of this, see the right-hand end of fig. 155; this makes the heading of the fringe secure, after which the remainder of the warp threads can be withdrawn. When fringing a square in this fashion, it is well to save some of the frayings out to knot in at the four corners where otherwise there would be gaps. [Illustration: Fig. 155.] To knot an added fringe into the border is a very simple matter. Begin by cutting the threads that are to compose it all to one length, about double that of the required fringe. Take a few together to form a bunch and double it in half. With a stiletto make a hole near the edge of the material; then bring from the back a crochet hook through this hole, and draw the loop formed by the doubling of the bunch a little way through, then take the ends of the bunch through the loop and draw them tight in order to make the knotting firm. [Illustration: Fig. 156.] There are many ways of patterning a plain fringe, sometimes a change of colour in the knotted-in threads is sufficient, as shown in fig. 156. Another very usual way is to divide the bunches and refasten them together in some way to form a pattern. Fig. 157 is an example of this; they may be either knotted together, as in the first half of the diagram, or bound with thread as in the second half, the needle reaching the required places by running in zigzag fashion up the thread and down again. [Illustration: Fig. 157.] A simple fringe can be made of strands twisted together, as in the first half of fig. 158. This is made upon the same principle as the twisted cord already described. About three threads of the fringe are twisted up tight, and an adjoining three treated in the same fashion. These threes are then twisted together in the direction opposite to that which has just been used, and thus are securely locked together. The ends of the completed fringe may require a little trimming off to make all of an equal length. The second half of the diagram shows a durable and simple fringe made by a close series of knots down the thread. [Illustration: Fig. 158.] Fig. 159 suggests two methods by which a stitching of coloured thread near the margin can help to decorate a plain fringed edge. [Illustration: Fig. 159.] A row of tassels makes a pretty finish to various things. Complicated tassel-making requires a professional hand; even a simple tassel requires making properly. The first proceeding is to wind some thread round a piece of cardboard, which should be a little wider than the tassel is to be long; then double a piece of the same thread and thread the two ends into a needle, thus leaving a loop at the usual knot end. Slip the needle through the centre of the wound thread close to the cardboard, then through the loop and draw the thread tight; this will bind the threads securely at that point. They can then be cut exactly opposite this on the other side, which will release the cardboard. Give the binding thread another tightening pull, and then take the needle and thread straight through the centre, as shown in fig. 160, and fasten it off with a good knot. This knot will be in the ball part of the tassel and will help to make it round. Next, double the tassel into shape ready for the collar. Thread the needle as before and make the thread encircle the tassel, as shown in the second figure in the diagram, drawing the thread quite tight, and, if necessary, winding it several times round the neck of the tassel until the collar is of sufficient width, then take the needle and thread straight through the centre, bringing it out at the top, where it can be made use of to fix the tassel in its place upon the work. With sharp scissors trim the edge of the tassel which now is complete. The ball part can be further decorated by covering it with an open network of stitches in some contrasting colour; buttonhole and various lace stitches can be used for the purpose. [Illustration: Fig. 160.] KNOTS Knots, which can be very pretty, are at times required in embroidery; anything that requires a fastening may give an opportunity for some pretty interlacing strap work or knotting. Also knots may be practically useful in both weaving and embroidery, for sometimes a finishing thread must be knotted on to a new one, since there may be no opportunity of making a firm commencement with the aid of the material. The knot shown in fig. 161 is called the girdle knot; it might be made use of in many other ways. To carry it out, make a loop with one end of the cord and hold it between the left finger and thumb, the looped part being towards the right, and the end that points downwards to the left passing over the other end. Take up the other piece of cord, pass it diagonally across the surface of the loop, commencing from the right-hand lower side, then round under one end and over the other, then up into the loop from underneath, over its own end that crosses the loop there, and then out under the loop at the top right-hand corner. [Illustration: Fig. 161.] The Chinese knot, which is used for a sailor's collar, is shown in fig. 162. The looped end can be left as large as necessary. To work it the first part of the knot is laid in position on the table, commencing at point A; for the latter part (from point C) the thread is interlaced through to the finish. It can then be pulled tight, taking care in the drawing-together process that the various loops are adjusted in right position. [Illustration: Fig. 162.] [Illustration: Fig. 163.] Another ornamental knot is shown at fig. 163. To make it--Form a loop and hold it between the left thumb and finger, the loop pointing to the right, the longer end pointing upwards and passing over the end that points downwards. Take hold of the end pointing upwards, pass it perpendicularly downwards across the surface of the loop, then round under the other end, up over its own end, under the side of the loop, over its own end that lies across the loop, and out under the loop at the right-hand end. Pull as tight as required. All these knots may be made of double cord by running a second through, following the lead of the first, just before tightening up the knot. The one last described may be made of doubled cord from the commencement, the looped end being used as the working end: the knot will then finish off with a loop at one end, which can be used as a loop or cut if required. [Illustration: Fig. 164.] Fig. 164 is an example of a pretty piece of interlacing strap work attached to a fastening. The weavers' knot (fig. 165) is useful for practical purposes in both weaving and embroidery; this knot is universally employed by the cotton weavers when the warp breaks. It is made as follows--Place the two ends that are to be knotted together between the thumb and first finger of the left hand in such a way that they cross each other at right angles, the end that points towards the left passing under the one pointing towards the right. Pass the long end of thread that hangs down towards the right, and which is the newly attaching piece, over the thumb, round the back of the end pointing to the left in front of the other end, and let it hang down again towards the right, holding the loop thus made between the thumb and finger; then pass the end pointing towards the right down through this loop and out on the opposite side. To draw the knot tight, pull the end which hangs down towards the right, which will tighten the loop and so complete the knot. [Illustration: Fig. 165.] The reef knot (fig. 166) is another useful one, and it has this advantage over the weaver's knot, that both short ends return parallel to the long ones instead of going off at an angle; this makes it neater for some purposes. [Illustration: Fig. 166.] FOOTNOTE: [14] This will be found described in detail in Chapter II. There is an interesting drawing of a neat little machine, similar to this, but worked by cogwheels, in _L'Art du Brodeur_, by Germain de St. Aubin (1770). CHAPTER XIV PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS Transferring Patterns--Paste for Embroidery Purposes--Protection and Preservation of Work--Washing Embroidery--Prevention and Cure of Puckered Work--Points about the Thread--Dressing the Frame. The best method of getting the pattern on to the material is to draw it on directly with a brush; since this, however, is not always possible, other ways of doing it can be employed. The pattern can be transferred to the background by a process called pouncing. To do this fix some tracing-paper over the design and carefully take the outline; a good margin of plain paper should be left round the outside in order to prevent any of the pounce getting accidentally rubbed on to the embroidery. The next process is the perforation of the pattern. Lay the tracing upon some substance of the nature of thick felt, then with a pricker or a needle, held in an upright position, pierce tiny holes all round the outline of the pattern, very close together. This completed, attach the perforated tracing securely to the material, the smooth side of the perforations towards the stuff. Both material and tracing paper may be fixed to a board with drawing pins. Next, rub the pounce, which consists of finely powdered charcoal or of white chalk, lightly over the perforated parts with a soft pad, keeping the rubbing always in the same direction; once or twice at the most over the surface is quite sufficient, often too much is rubbed through, which afterwards is only in the way. The pad, first dipped into the pounce, is rubbed preparatorily upon some paper to remove the superfluous powder, and then upon the actual work. Carefully remove the tracing-paper; there should now be visible upon the surface of the material, in charcoal dust, a perfectly clear reproduction of the pattern. Should, however, the impression be blurred, it is quite easy to flick everything away with a duster and repeat the process. The causes of failure would most probably be that the perforations were too large or too far apart, or that there was some movement of either paper or material during the process. It is necessary for the pattern to be permanently fixed upon the ground material; blow lightly to remove any superfluous powder, then, with a brush dipped in light red oil-paint moistened with turpentine, trace a fine clear line over the powdered pattern. When this is dry, what is left of the charcoal can be lightly dusted away. Red is in most cases a good colour to use for tracing purposes, for if by chance any tracing should show or come off on the thread it will be a clean-looking colour, and one comparatively easily removed in any after cleaning. Red or blue carbonised paper is used for tracing patterns; it is not a good medium though it may be an expeditious one. If it is used, an after painting over the outline will make the marking permanent. When pouncing or painting is difficult, a method of indicating the pattern upon the stuff is to trace the design on tissue paper, and tack it to the ground material with cotton, the stitching of which should follow the outline of the design, and be kept as much as possible upon the front. The thin paper is then torn away, and there will be some suggestion of pattern left upon the material. Transparent ground stuffs need only be laid upon the pattern; then the tracing can be taken directly on the stuff. Paste is sometimes in request for embroidery purposes; the following is a good recipe--Pour rather less than half a pint of cold water into a saucepan, add to this a piece of carpenter's glue about the size of a small filbert and place it on the fire to heat. Put three teaspoonfuls of flour into a basin, and with cold water mix to a smooth paste; when the water in the saucepan boils add it to the paste, stirring well all the time; then place the mixture in the saucepan and boil for about two minutes. When cold it is ready for use. It may be required as a preservative; for instance, canvas work when finished can have a thin coating of paste rubbed over the back in order to preserve the stitches from giving or running; when the work is to be used for such things as furniture coverings this may be a good thing to do. Applied work is sometimes pasted on to its new ground, and a backing may be fixed to the surface material by paste. The more all this can be avoided the better, for its tendency is to give a stiff mechanical look to work; professional people, however, are rather fond of the paste pot. Paste, if used, must be of the right kind, or it will do more harm than good. It should be very fresh, and have no acid in its ingredients, of which gum arabic must not be one if any after stitching has to take place through the stuff, for gum makes it hard and less penetrable. The paste must be applied and allowed to dry thoroughly before the work is removed from the frame. A finger makes a good brush for the purpose. The paste should be put on as thinly and evenly as possible, care being taken not to rub on the cross of the material, since this might stretch it unevenly. Shoemakers' paste is easily procured, and can be used for embroidery purposes. This is made from rye flour, and is very strong. It is harmless if perfectly fresh. A good many things go to the keeping of work fresh and orderly, which is a very important matter. The work must be kept carefully covered up when not in use; finished parts can sometimes be covered whilst the work is going on, for the covering is easily raised when comparison with the part in progress is necessary. The work should have some protection if the hand rests on it; the worker should wear a white apron with sleeves. The worker's hand should be cool, dry, and smooth; hot hands should frequently be washed. The use of pumice stone cures slight roughness, but fine work cannot be attempted if the fingers are for any reason constantly rough. Wools and silks need a case to keep them orderly and clean. The best way to preserve valuable embroidery is to frame it, which, of course, is not always practicable, but it is a sure safeguard against moth and dust. For washing embroidery special soap should be procured. It is not well to use any ordinary soap, for this may contain alkali, which would injure the colours in the work. Dissolve the soap in boiling water, and add cold to make it just warm and of the required strength. Immerse the embroidery in the lather thus made, and work it about gently, avoiding any friction. When clean, rinse first in warm water, afterwards in cold, to which a little salt may be added. The water must be squeezed out carefully and the material quickly dried. If ironing is necessary it must be done on the wrong side, but if the work can be pinned out on a board to dry, and in this way stretched and smoothed without any ironing, so much the better, for the embroidery will not be flattened at all. Another way of ironing embroidery that is not harmful is to do it from underneath while some one holds out the material. It is easy to prevent the puckering of work when it is carried out in the frame; there is, however, no necessity for it to occur in hand work. Certain stitches are more inclined to draw up the material than others, and extra care has to be taken in working upon the cross of the fabric. The work should be held in convex fashion over the fingers of the left hand. Weights are occasionally attached to the corners of the work to prevent any unconscious drawing of it up. There are remedies for the cure of slightly puckered work. Place on a drawing-board some clean blotting-paper, damp it evenly over with a wet handkerchief, and then lay the work, right side up, upon it. Fix the work down to the board with drawing-pins, inserted at regular short intervals round the edge, endeavouring during the process to stretch the material to its original shape. This needs doing carefully, for it is quite possible to stretch it to a wrong shape, and it will remain as now pinned out. Next, lay some white paper or a handkerchief upon the surface of the work, and then place upon it a flat weight that presses equally on every part of the embroidery. Leave it undisturbed for a night, and the puckering will probably be cured. Work, if not puckered, may be improved by going through this process, which practically amounts to a mild ironing, but without any injurious effects. [Illustration: Fig. 167.] There are various points about the thread that should be known. To commence a new thread run a few stitches in the material upon the right side upon a part that will afterwards be covered by the working. This is a better way than a fastening on the wrong side, for it is both neater and more secure. A knot made at the beginning is fairly safe, but it is undesirable for several reasons. The needleful should not be lengthy lest it gets worn before it is all worked in. With some threads it is important to thread only the proper end into the eye of the needle, since one way they will work in roughly and the other way smoothly. An end of a coarse thread can be taken through to the back of the material by the help of a fine one; the fine thread is brought through from the back by the needle, it then encircles the coarse one, and returns to the back by the same hole, pulling the coarse thread with it, as in process in fig. 167. Taking it through by the aid of a thick needle would make too large a hole. Thread can be knotted into the eye of the needle if for any reason it is required to be quite safe from accidental unthreading. The neatest way of doing this is to pass the needle through the centre of the thread and draw it tight; this is a useful trick for any unskilled worker with needles and thread, for re-threading also may be a difficulty. When work has to be unpicked it is better to cut the threads rather than do any drawing out, for they are in any case unfit for further use, and this method wears the material less; a beginner must not shirk unpicking if first-rate results are to be obtained. FRAME WORK Certain stitches and methods of work cannot be carried out except with the help of a frame, others are hand stitches, and some few can be worked either way. Work done in a frame takes longer than that done by hand, and is rather more fatiguing. Each method has its advantages; in the frame it is perhaps easier to get good technique, for difficulties such as puckering the material, irregular stitching, and so on, are more easily avoided, also it is more possible to see the effect of the whole whilst the part progresses. In frame work a thimble is required for each hand, for one pushes the needle through from above and one from below. It is a rest to be able to reverse the hands, so both should be equally dexterous in either position. To dress the frame correctly is an important preliminary, for unless done well the effect of much after labour may be spoiled. In the chapter upon tools and appliances in fig. 9 is shown a piece of linen stretched in the frame ready for commencing work. The square of material that is seen to be inserted in the centre of the stretched linen is to show how a very small piece or a portion of a large surface could be stretched in the same sized frame. A corner may require marking or a small detail of embroidery carrying out upon it. A portion is cut out of the centre of the stretched linen, and the piece or part of the material to be worked stitched securely to it, as illustrated in the diagram. The remainder of the material, if there is any, can be folded up and pinned out of the way over the rollers. To return to the dressing of the frame--the linen to be stretched, before being fixed in place, must be hemmed or herring-boned down at the top and base and then sewn with overcast stitches to the webbings, inclining during the process to pucker the webbing rather than the material. The side pieces can now be put through the holes at the ends of the rollers and the metal pins inserted, or nuts adjusted, as the case may be, in order to stretch the material to the right tension. The raw edges at the sides must now be turned in or bound with tape, and a string securely attached at intervals along the edge; this is for lacing the string through that now braces the material to the sides of the frame (see fig. 1). The screw-sided frame has an advantage over the side pieces shown in fig. 9, in that in the former an extra turn can, at this point, be given to the nuts to still further stretch the material; on the other hand, some workers prefer the flat side pieces, thinking that they make the frame more rigid. If the material, when fixed to the two webbings, is too long for the frame, it must be wound round one of the rollers until of the correct size. This must be done carefully, for a delicate fabric might get damaged in the process; the roller can be padded with soft paper, and an interlining of tissue paper can be inserted and wound up with the material. It may not always be desirable to do this winding round the rollers; in that case fine glazed holland can be stretched in the frame, and the part to be first embroidered fixed to it. When the first part of the work is completed, the holland is cut out of the frame and fresh pieces substituted as the work goes on. If it is not wished that the stitches should be taken through both surfaces, as would here be the case, it would be possible to cut the linen partly away underneath, and use it only as a kind of inner frame for stretching the material on, in a way somewhat like that already described (see fig. 9). A backing to the material, however, is often a necessity--perhaps heavy work may be put on it or the stuff itself is fragile; in such cases there must be a backing of some kind. This usually consists of fine holland or linen, which is first stretched in the frame and then has the surface material securely stitched to it with overcast stitches, care being taken that both materials are equally strained. To frame velvet, sew it to the webbing by the selvedges or that way of the material, since the pile with that arrangement is more manageable when the embroidery is in progress. [Illustration: Fig. 168.] PART II TAPESTRY WEAVING CHAPTER XV INTRODUCTION Weaving, a most ancient art, naturally precedes embroidery, for this necessitates an already existing ground stuff, which is generally some kind of woven material. All varieties of weaving are done by one little-varied method, that of the weft passing to and fro in and out of the warp, and thus binding the whole into a fabric or web. The kind of weaving which demands from the worker the greatest artistic skill is that which produced the great masterpieces of Flanders, once known as Arras, from the town of that name, and now commonly called Gobelins tapestry, so named from the _Manufacture des Gobelins_ in Paris, at which establishment, founded over three hundred years ago, it is still produced. It is this kind of weaving that is now to be discussed, but without the least suggestion that the pupil should work upon a scale so large as is usually followed, though there is no reason against doing so if it is practicable. Tapestry weaving is so constantly associated with objects of large size, such as wall hangings, that it is scarcely realised as an art in this smaller way and as an alternative to embroidery. Yet it can be work of a most interesting kind even when produced in pieces only six inches square, as is well shown by existing specimens of the work of the weavers in Egypt who flourished in the early centuries of the Christian era. Examples of this work can be seen in many museums; they consist frequently of decorative panels of tapestry work inlaid in linen tunics and stuffs that have been used as grave clothes. These early Coptic examples are, like all tapestry, built up by interweaving various threads upon warp-strings stretched in close parallel lines. By varying the colour of the threads that are thus manipulated upon the warp, patterns of any degree of complexity can be built up directly by hand, and without the assistance of any further mechanical contrivance. The peculiarity of this ancient weaving is that the patterns are frequently woven upon the warp-threads of some fabric, from which the weft either has been removed, or, what is perhaps more probable, been purposely left out when the material was made, to leave space for this decorative pattern weaving to be added to it. The Latin name for the workman who in this way wove in the ornamental patterns was _Plumarius_, which is a name known to be applied to an embroiderer also. This weaving of small subjects is certainly very little removed from embroidery; it may fairly be called needlework, for it is as often carried out with needles as with bobbins, the former being frequently better suited to the size of the work. In execution weaving is not more difficult than embroidered work; it can be done in an ordinary room and upon a simple loom that is not more cumbersome than an embroidery frame; in fact an embroidery frame can sometimes be used in the place of a loom. Weaving takes about as long in doing as finely stitched solid needlework, for in weaving the entire fabric is made, both pattern and ground. The speed with which the work can be done of course varies considerably, being mainly dependent upon the design that is being carried out. Also the quality of the materials used affects the rate of working; for instance, the thickness of the warp-strings and the placing of them nearer together or further apart. Moreover the weft may be composed of one strand or of several strands together. In weaving, unless the materials used are very fine, it is impossible to get minute detail in drawing; fortunately it is seldom necessary to attempt much of this. The simpler and more direct work is as good as, and sometimes better than, that with finely gradated colour, shading, and form. On the other hand, work, small in scale, even though simply treated, does not look well when carried out with very coarse materials, for they seem out of proportion to the size of it. The main difficulty in the technique of the work lies in the attainment of good draughtsmanship, which of course includes light and shade as well as outline. It is naturally more difficult to draw by means of bobbin and thread, in horizontal lines, than to work unrestrictedly with a pencil, or even with an embroidery needle. There is a great deal in the preparation of the design; as in all other crafts this must be suited to the method of work; otherwise the difficulties of execution will be greatly increased and the result will be less satisfactory. This is even more important in weaving than in embroidery, for in the latter the stitch and method may possibly be chosen to suit the design, but in weaving no variation of stitch is possible; all must be carried out in the same way. Tapestry weaving, whether for wall hangings or for small objects, has the same technical difficulties, and certain restrictions govern all work of the kind. One point to be observed is, the main lines of the design should go as little as possible in the same direction as the warp threads. This is because with each change of colour in the weft that occurs in the direction of the warp, there comes an inevitable separation in the woven material, which, oft repeated, would materially impair the strength of the fabric. The less frequently this occurs, of course, the better, since it entails additional labour, either a joining-together stitch at the time of working or an after-sewing up from the back. Long lines made by change of colour going straight or at a slight angle across the warp-threads, are perfectly simple to manage, and the hatching lines of shading, as well as the outline, should be taken as much as possible in this direction. It will be noticed that most tapestries have the ribbed lines of warp going horizontally across; in the loom these lines are perpendicular, so this means that the design has been placed and carried out sideways upon it. This is for the reason just under discussion, for the long lines of a design are most frequently perpendicular, take, for instance, lines of figures, draperies, or architecture, and so by placing the design sideways in the loom, most of the important lines will come in the direction most easy for the working of them. With small pieces it frequently does not matter which way it is carried out, but it is useful to know when making the design that there is the alternative of placing it either way upon the warp-threads. If this matter were not considered and arranged, there might come a good deal of twisting round one or two warp-threads which would be most unsatisfactory in working and in appearance. A band of plain colour framing a square piece of work will be found to be completely detached from the centre part upon each side of the square, although working in very straightforwardly at the top and base; if, instead of being a straight band, the inner edge was vandyked, the work would be well knitted together upon all sides (see fig. 169). In such ways as this the technical pitfalls can be somewhat avoided by a designer who understands the method of the work. [Illustration: Fig. 169.] To lay down definite rules for designing is practically impossible; right and wrong depend upon so many circumstances. The study of fine tapestries of the best periods is one of the most satisfactory ways of learning what one may or may not attempt; the beautifully flowered grounds in many of these show what excellent motives flowers make, and how they should be treated. It is not usually a good plan to introduce in any part of the work much plain ground, for it is inclined to look poor; this is very likely the reason why the grass in tapestry-land is often covered with such profusion of flowers. Tapestry calls for beautiful colour, richness, and plenty of interesting detail; it is essentially decorative work, and must be treated as such. The arrangement of colours and tones need to be sharply defined; if by chance a dark leaf comes against another dark one, a line of light colour is sometimes deliberately run between, perhaps shading or outlining one of the forms; a flower may even change its colour as it passes over different backgrounds; what is more remarkable is that this change, unless sought for, is imperceptible. The work may be applied to all kinds of uses, such as coverings for furniture, mats, curtains, bell-pulls, book-covers, bags, boxes, and so forth. Anything that hangs upon a wall is particularly suitable for working in tapestry, for at a little distance this kind of work shows up more effectively than embroidered work does. A great many articles, such as alms-bags, frontals of all kinds, stoles and book-markers, for use in churches could most excellently be carried out in tapestry. CHAPTER XVI NECESSARY APPLIANCES AND MATERIALS The Loom--Mirror--Bobbins and Needles--The Comb--Embroidery Frame treated as a Loom--Warp--Wools--Silk--Gold and Silver Thread. TOOLS AND APPLIANCES The chief requisite for weaving is the loom; this can be made by a carpenter from a working drawing. In the Victoria and Albert Museum there is a model of a small tapestry loom, presented by William Morris, which a novice will do well to examine. It is quite possible to carry out a small piece of weaving upon an embroidery frame, but to work in a loom which has all the proper appliances is always quicker, better, and absolutely necessary with work of any size. There are two main varieties of tapestry loom, one in which the warp-threads are horizontal, and another in which they are vertical. The latter kind is considered to give the best results, mainly owing to the possibility of the worker's seeing the right side of the work whilst it is in progress. This is a great advantage, for tapestry is woven with the reverse side towards the worker, and progresses by such gradual steps that the weaver is prone to lose sight of the whole whilst paying attention to the part in progress, and it will be easily understood that to be able to go round and view the entire piece is of immense help. A detail may perhaps be corrected during the progress of the work, but afterwards this would be an awkward matter. It is one of the difficulties of weaving to have to finish completely each step as it comes up. Working from the wrong side is not so hard as it might seem, for both sides are practically alike; the side towards the worker, however, shows ends of thread and thread passing from one place to another, which make it somewhat unpresentable. [Illustration: Fig. 170.] [Illustration: Fig. 171.] Fig. 170 shows a drawing of a small loom with some warp stretched upon it in readiness for commencing work. It stands upon the ground, and is about 4 feet high by 2½ feet wide. It is made of beechwood; a hard wood like this is best, for there must be no possibility of the rollers bending with the strain of the warp. The loom consists of two uprights standing upon heavy feet; these uprights are joined together at the top and base by strengthening cross bars. Two wooden rollers are fixed into the uprights (see A and B in fig. 170) and in the surface of each of these a narrow groove is hollowed out lengthwise (see fig. 171); this is for the purpose of holding a long metal pin, by means of which the warp-threads are kept in place. The rollers are fitted at one extremity with a handle for turning them round, and at the other with a ratchet and toothed wheel to prevent unwinding. The purpose of the upper roller is to hold the supply of warp-thread and unwind it as required; the lower one is for winding up the web as the work progresses, so that upon a loom of this size a piece of work of considerable length can easily be carried out. [Illustration: Fig. 172.] The warp soon after it passes from the top roller is divided into two leaves by a cylindrical wooden bar about one inch in diameter, called the cross stave (see fig. 172). The cross stave may be oval or round in section; if it is oval the warp-threads may be moved more widely apart when required by turning the stave round, but this is not often necessary. The upper part of the cross stave can be seen in position in the loom diagram, which shows also how the stave divides the threads, which pass alternately one in front and one behind the bar. After this the threads are passed through a comb-like instrument, having about fourteen divisions to the inch (see fig. 173). This extends from side to side of the loom, and lies in a groove made in the bar that fixes the coat-stave (C in fig. 170) in position at either extremity. It can be taken out and exchanged for another with a different divisioning, if necessary; without doing this, however, it is quite possible to put at intervals two threads through one division, or to pass over one occasionally if need be. The threads are next fixed in the lower roller. [Illustration: Fig. 173.] The coat-stave can be seen projecting from near the top of the loom. A number of looped threads called coats are fixed to it, and each one of these encircles a thread of the warp. They are attached only to those threads that were passed behind the cross stave and form the back leaf of the warp, and they are for the purpose of pulling these forward when required. Underneath the lower roller is fixed a wooden tray, which is useful for holding bobbins, comb, or scissors. On the loom is hung a small mirror facing the right side of the work (see fig. 170). This enables the weaver to glance now and then through the warp-strings at any detail that is in progress. Smaller looms can be made, suitable for placing upon a table; these, standing about two feet in height, must in some way be firmly fixed to the table, in order to be properly rigid for work. [Illustration: Fig. 174.] The thread composing the woof is wound upon a wooden bobbin or shuttle, such as that shown in fig. 174. The chief point about this is, that it may not have sharp angles that might catch in the warp whilst passing to and fro. The pointed end is sometimes made use of to poke between the warp-threads and press down the weft. A fresh bobbin is employed for each colour, and the wool is wound upon it two or three strands together, just as may happen to be required for the work. Large blunt-pointed needles about three inches long (fig. 175) are often used in place of bobbins, for with small pieces of work sometimes so little of a colour is required as to make it unnecessary to wind a quantity on a bobbin, which is, after all, only a needle with an extra long thread. [Illustration: Fig. 175.] [Illustration: Fig. 176.] A comb is necessary for pressing down the weft whilst the work is in progress. Combs vary in size and shape; fig. 176 shows one suitable for this type of work; it is 1½ inches square, slightly wedge-shaped, and about one-eighth of an inch thick. Boxwood is the most suitable wood to make them from, since it is particularly hard and fine in the grain. They are sometimes made of metal, ivory, or bone; for large work, metal combs of a heavier type are used. [Illustration: Fig. 177.] An embroidery frame, which has been already mentioned as a possible substitute for the loom, is oftentimes an article more easily procured. Fig. 177 illustrates how a frame of this kind may be prepared with warp-threads for weaving. One with the screw side pieces is the best, for these enable the tension of the warp to be slightly adjusted if the working shows any tendency to slacken the thread. To prepare the frame for weaving--Place the parts together at the required distance from each other; secure the end of some warp-thread to some part of the frame, and then commence to wind it round and round over the two rollers, placing the threads at approximately the right distance apart, taking into account when doing this that the two leaves thus formed will eventually be brought into the same plane. When the required width of warp-thread is wound upon the rollers, secure the end of the string and proceed to bring the front and back leaves together by darning a knitting-needle or some similar article in and out of the threads at the centre. Then slide it up close to the top roller and secure it by tying it with string at each end (see diagram). The same process is gone through with a second pin, which is tied to the lower roller. The warp-threads can now be adjusted to their proper distance apart, as they will probably be a little irregularly spaced. The next process is to weave two or three courses of warp-thread close to the knitting-pins at either end; this brings the warp still nearer to being in the one plane, and enables the threads to be arranged in perfect order by the aid of the point of the bobbin or a needle, and they will remain as now placed. The frame is now ready for work. A piece of plain web, about half an inch in width, is usually woven before the actual design is begun; this serves as a selvedge for turning in when the completed work is mounted, and also gets the warp into condition much better for working upon. A thick knitting-needle can be passed between the alternate threads of the warp and placed towards the top of the frame, as shown in the diagram. This takes the place of the cross-stave in the loom, and, by thus dividing the warp into two leaves, is of assistance when the shuttle goes in one direction. Coats cannot easily be applied to an embroidery frame. It is quite possible upon a frame of this kind to weave a long narrow band of any kind. The warp must be wound on and arranged in position at the necessary length by separating the rollers and temporarily fixing them apart at the distance required for the band. The surplus warp is then wound up on the upper roller until the side pieces will fit into the ends. As it gets worked upon, the completed part is wound upon the lower roller. A piece both long and wide would be impracticable, especially if any winding on and off the rollers were necessary. MATERIALS There are very few materials required for tapestry weaving; they consist of, string for warp, wools, silks, and maybe gold and silver thread for the weft. The warp is usually composed of a smooth, strong, evenly twisted thread, specially made for the purpose. It can be procured of various thicknesses. It happens sometimes that in parts the warp shows, as a fringe or in some other way; in this case it could be made of a strong silk thread, such as purse silk, though for edges of mats, the ordinary string warp fringed out is quite suitable. Occasionally weaving is carried out in such a way as to expose the warp in various parts of the work, the pattern being woven, but the ground left altogether unworked. In a case of this kind the colour and composition of the warp is naturally important, and must be considered. In a show-case in the British Museum there can be seen a small book with an interesting woven binding carried out after this manner. The warp is composed of gold passing, and the effect of this with a pattern carried out in brightly coloured silks is very pretty indeed, the gold adding a rich glow to the whole. Wool and silk are the chief materials used for the woof. It is well to choose those of fine texture, for several strands can then be wound together upon one bobbin, which, with coarse materials, would be too clumsy a method. When working in this way there is more opportunity of varying colour and texture, for three shades may be wound upon the bobbin together to get a required colour, and this has often a prettier effect than the use of an unblended colour; also, silk and wool are very satisfactory wound and worked in together, each texture showing the other to advantage. Fine gold or silver threads are frequently used in tapestry weaving. They can be woven in alone, which gives a metallic look, or they may be mixed with strands of silk. Both ways are very good, and the use of the metal thread adds great richness to the work. These threads make fine backgrounds, and they can be used in many ways upon the design; it is a common practice to carry out the lighting of draperies and of other parts in real gold, just as they are treated in illuminated manuscripts. CHAPTER XVII PREPARATIONS FOR WORK Warping the Loom--Dressing the Coat-Stave--Tracing the Pattern upon the Threads. Upon commencing the warping of the loom the first matter to be decided is the length of the threads. Some extra length must be measured off besides that actually used for weaving, to allow for what is taken up in fixing the threads and winding them round the rollers, and as it is not convenient to work more than about half-way up the loom, this also has to be allowed for in the length. The threads must all be cut to one size, and since they have to be doubled in halves when placed on the loom, this should be twice the required length. Another question for early decision is the number of warp-threads that may be allowed per inch. This varies with the coarseness of the strings and the thickness of the weft that will have to pass to and fro between them; what governs both of these points is the design, whether there is much detail or not, for if the drawing is complicated the warp-strings must be fine in order to be able to carry it out; this point will be better understood after some experience of working. Fourteen to sixteen threads to the inch is a very usual number. The fixing of the threads in the upper roller is a very simple matter. It is done by doubling each in halves and placing the loop thus formed over the metal pin, which for this purpose may be temporarily suspended by string to the frame of the top of the loom just above the roller. It can be dropped into its place in the groove when all the threads are looped upon it, and made secure there for the moment by tying some string round the extremities of the roller. Each thread is now taken separately through the comb-like instrument. The cross-stave is laid upon this, so it is well to put it in place now, and carry the threads alternately in front and behind it, whilst passing them through the comb. The threading of the strings through the comb decides the number there will be to the inch, so they must be put through at the required distance apart. The upper roller is next given a complete turn, which will make the metal pin and the threads that are round it secure in the groove. The winding up must be continued until only about three inches of the warp-string hang below the lower roller. Some kind of tension must be applied to the threads whilst this winding is going on, or it will be done irregularly; a hand, or several hands, holding it, answers the purpose well enough. The next process is to fix the threads securely in the lower roller. The difficulty here lies in getting the placing and tension of the threads between the two rollers exactly regular and even. If some were slack and others tight it would be very awkward to correct afterwards, and impossible to weave upon properly if incorrect. [Illustration: Fig. 178.] Fig. 178 shows a practical method by which the warp may be fixed in the lower roller, but any contrivance will do that gains the required result. To carry out the fixing as in the diagram, the roller must be turned so that the groove comes just at the centre in the front. Four lines of warp-thread are then fixed from end to end of the roller, two above and two below the groove. Each warp-string in turn is now threaded in and out of these cross lines, as shown in the diagram. This places them in regular order, at the correct distance apart, and keeps them at very nearly the same tension throughout. The metal pin is now placed in the groove and pushes the threads before it. It must be temporarily made firm there by string tied round the roller at intervals. The next process is to tie the warp-threads in knots, either two or four together, just where they emerge below the pin. This prevents any giving way, and if the threads are pulled just equally tight immediately before the knotting, the tension of the entire warp will be the same. The lower roller is next turned round until the metal pin is made quite firm in its place by the warp-threads passing across the face of the groove. The warp will now be fixed in the loom as shown in the drawing in fig. 170. The placing of the coats upon the coat-stave is the next part of the preparatory work. Commence by fixing a line of warp-thread along the exterior side of the coat-stave, making it secure to the bar at both ends. The coats, encircling the stave and a thread of warp, are fixed to this string by a kind of buttonhole stitch (see fig. 179). It is important that each loop should be of exactly the same size; this can be ensured by temporarily fixing a rod across the loom at the point where the loops will encircle the warp-thread, and then taking the loop round this bar as well as round the thread. [Illustration: Fig. 179.] To commence making the coats, take a long needleful of warp-thread and secure the end of it to the string at the right-hand end, and then make about three small looped stitches upon it (see needle in progress in the diagram); next, instead of making another of the same stitches, take the thread down below the stave, let it encircle the first thread of the back leaf and then be brought up over the coat-stave and string and be looped under the thread to complete the stitch (see B). Usually a long and a short stitch are taken alternately, but the number of short ones may be varied. This process is continued until all the threads of the back leaf are encircled each by a loop. A new length of thread must be knotted on to the last one as it gets used up. The weavers' knot, which is shown on p. 291, might be used for the purpose. It would be made use of also if by chance the warp-thread were broken, for it is a knot specially good for the purpose. When the coats are completed there are still one or two preparations to be made before actually commencing to weave. Either a metal rod or a long narrow piece of wood must now be threaded in and out of the warp-strings and placed in position at the base. This rod can be seen properly placed in position in fig. 179 in front of the lower cylinder. This is put there to keep the lines of the woof horizontal when they are being beaten down by the comb. Next wind on a bobbin some warp-thread similar to that already on the loom, or, if that happens to be very coarse, let this be a little finer. Now weave two courses with this warp-thread and beat it down with the comb, leaving the woof during the process rather loose. The technique of weaving with all its difficulties is discussed in Chapter XVIII. When two of the warp-thread courses are complete, insert either the pointed end of the bobbin or a blunt needle between the warp-threads below the woven portion, and if necessary move the warp-strings a little to or fro until they are equally separated each from the other all along the line. Next weave about four more courses of the woof; these will serve to keep the arranged warp-threads still more firmly in place. Then with a red pencil rule a horizontal line straight across the warp-strings about one-third of an inch above the woven portion. Wind on another bobbin some wool and weave it to and fro until the space between the woven portion and the red line is filled in. Between each course the comb must beat the woof-threads firmly down. It is often necessary to weave over some portions of the surface more than over others as the threads pack down tighter in some parts. The loom should be now in perfect order for commencing work. The preparatory weaving that has been done is often useful afterwards as a selvedge. It is necessary to have a coloured drawing of the design for frequent reference whilst the work is in progress; also a tracing of the outline must be marked upon the warp-threads for the worker's further guidance. The tracing upon the threads must be a reflection of the pattern owing to the fact that the work is done from the back. It does not affect the matter if the design is a symmetrical one, but to find the lions of England facing the wrong way in some completed piece of heraldic work would be most annoying. In order to get a tracing of the design upon the threads, a sheet of paper, with a distinct outline of the pattern upon it, must be attached, possibly by pinning, to the further side of the warp-threads, exactly where the weaving is to take place. The outline will be clearly perceivable through the threads, and the next process is to take pen and Indian ink and make a dot upon each warp-thread in sequence round the outline of the pattern. When this is completed, the tracing-paper can be removed, and the dots upon the warp must be taken all round each thread instead of marking one side only. The marking round is done by holding a warp-thread between the finger and thumb, placing the side of the nib against one of the dots, and then twisting the thread to and fro against it. All the marks upon the first thread are treated in succession in this way, then the next thread is taken up and treated in similar fashion, and so on until all are done. Fig. 180 shows a leaf marked upon the warp-threads in readiness for working. This marking should be clear, sharp, and decided, all the lines being taken horizontally round, as in fig. 180; if the pattern seems to run up a thread, a mark just half-way up is sufficient guide. In a piece of work of any size the tracing must be done, a part at a time, for the threads moving slightly when the warp is unwound and the web wound up may displace the marks and make the guiding lines incorrect. [Illustration: Fig. 180.] CHAPTER XVIII THE TECHNIQUE OF WEAVING Weaving--Commencing and Fastening Off--The Interlocking Stitch--Fine Drawing--Shading--Added After-stitches. The way in which the woof threading in and out of the warp makes the web is shown at C, fig. 179. Here the woof has been taken once to and fro; a movement called a weft or a course, one way only, goes by the name of a half pass or a shoot. By the use of the cross stave for one direction, and of the coats for the other, the tediousness of the process of darning in and out and so picking up the right threads is avoided. It is not always practical to make use of these appliances; for instance, in working over only two or three threads it may not be worth while, but when they can be made use of the work is done twice as rapidly by their help. The bobbin enters the loom rather high up, for there the division of threads is greatest. One hand starts the bobbin upon its journey, the other hand, entering between the divided warp-threads, takes it on and out as required. Sometimes the bobbin has to go the entire way between the leaves, and at others it may be only over two or three threads, this depending upon the pattern. To enable the bobbin to make the return passage, the warp must be redivided, the threads that are at the back must be brought to the front; this is managed by the help of the coats--a bunch of them is taken in the hand in order to pull forward the threads to which they are attached. This can be done by sections all along the line, or just in one part of it if it be so required. The weft is almost always taken in horizontal lines to and fro. The exceptions to this rule occur when it is very evident that to run up and down a narrow slanting line from end to end is far simpler than to work up in a horizontal zigzag fashion along it. About an inch of thread is left at the end and at the commencement of each length of weft; these are secured by the tight packing down of the threads above them, so there is as a rule no need for any knot or fastening off, which would be necessary only in the case of commencing or ending off round a single thread, but it is important for the future durability of the work to see that the ends are secured. Sometimes a commencement or a finish is made just where a natural division of the fabric occurs; in this case, the end of thread would not be secure, for it might work loose or appear upon the right side. This can usually be avoided by commencing a little further along the line. The few times that fastening off or on is necessary, the thread can be run into the part already woven with a smaller needle, or else be knotted on to a loose end of wool. The bobbins not actually in use hang down fixed as in lace work by a half-hitch. Fig. 181 shows this in process of making; the loop is passed from the finger on to the bobbin; it will unwind as wanted and yet hold firm whilst hanging down. The thread is always carried, if practicable, from one place to where it is next required, in order to avoid unnecessary breaking off. Tapestry is sometimes woven with both sides alike, which means only that all the ends must be cut close off. It is said that work so treated is quite durable. [Illustration: Fig. 181.] Special care must be taken that the weft is turned neatly round at the margins, because if it is at all loose there the work has a ragged, untidy appearance. This applies also to any turnings that may occur in other parts due to the carrying out of the pattern; if in these places the thread is too loose upon the warp, the fabric will be uneven and pushed out of place; if on the other hand the thread there is too tight, the slits will gape, and if these are afterwards closed by stitching, the entire material will be drawn in. A new thread is never commenced actually at the margin, for it would then be seen upon the right side; it is quite easy to avoid this happening by commencing an inch further in. This may entail beginning in a direction which is apparently wrong for picking up the proper threads, that is, those not picked up in the row below; but this must happen at times, and the work packs down and quite prevents the warp showing, as it might be inclined to do in such a case. It is sometimes at the margin a good plan to pick up two warp-threads together, for this emphasises the edge rather pleasantly; this might be advisable in carrying out a long ribbon-like border of any kind. After each shoot, the point of the bobbin, the comb, or maybe the fingers, should press down the woof to make it lie close upon the row before, and so entirely cover up the warp. Fig. 182 shows the comb in action, and also the bobbins hanging. The weft must be left a little slack along the line for this purpose, and some experience is required in order to leave just the right slackness. The turn at the edge is arranged first, and then the thread eased evenly along its length in readiness for being pressed down; it must have the appearance not of running straight across the warp-strings, but of lying loosely round them. For packing down a long line, much more play of weft is required than for a short one. [Illustration: Fig. 182.] The usual fault with beginners is to draw the web too tight here and there. This is a fault to be specially avoided, for it causes the fabric to be drawn in, and to vary in width, spoiling its appearance and making the threads difficult to work upon; also the packing down of the weft could not be properly done, which would cause the warp-threads to be exposed in parts. The thoroughness of this packing down of the weft is for several reasons very important. The durability of the work is much affected by it, both for the securing of the ends of wool already mentioned, and for the making of a strong, well-knit piece of fabric. Another reason is, that the drawing of the various forms in the design may be made incorrect, in this way: suppose an apple were woven in, apparently correctly, but the wefts were not pressed down thoroughly, the weaving and packing down of the wefts above it would be sure to press the part underneath closer together, and the effect of this would be to make the round apple assume a flattened oval shape, and cause similar changes throughout the work. It has already been mentioned that wherever a change of colour occurs vertically, that is, in the direction of the warp-threads, there results of necessity a division or slit in the web; the slit, which may be of any length, if noticeable, must be closed. This can be done whilst the weaving is in progress by a method of interlocking the two wefts as they meet, or else by stitching up at the back when the work is finished. The latter way is called fine drawing, and must be very carefully done, especially with large tapestries. Both methods are used; the first takes longer, but is the most durable. Old and worn tapestries will usually be seen to have given way where this stitching up at the back has taken place. In small pieces of work, however, there is not much likelihood of strain, so the oversewing at the back answers fairly well. The two ways can be used in conjunction. Supposing a border, owing to its being of a different colour, had to be joined the entire length of the work, the interlocking stitches might be made at intervals of about half an inch, and when the work was finished the oversewing at the back might be taken the entire length. [Illustration: Fig. 183.] Fig. 183 is a diagram illustrating the way in which the wefts may be interlocked whilst the weaving goes on. Examination of the drawing will probably be sufficient explanation; however, interlocking is effected thus: Commencing at the base, run a weft of the darker wool to and fro, leaving it slack at the turning point. A half pass of the lighter-coloured woof is then run through, it is threaded in an upward direction through the slack loop of the darker wool, waits there whilst another weft of the darker colour is worked, and then is threaded down through the second loop that has been formed, and returns to the starting-point. It then comes back again and is threaded upwards through this same loop, and waits, as before, for another to be formed, and returns back through it--and so on. If this is done properly, no change is visible on the right side. The joined weft will last as long as any other part of the weaving. The process of stitching up at the back is simply an oversewing with silk or other strong thread. The stitches must be rather close, drawing the edges just sufficiently together, and they must not show through to the right side. The stitching together should be done while the work is on the loom, since the web would then be in less danger of pulling out of shape. [Illustration: Fig. 184.] Shading in tapestry weaving is carried out by a hatching process which is most simply explained by a diagram (fig. 184). The difficulty is not in the working, but in getting the form of the shadow or light correctly expressed. There is no need for fine gradation of colour and tone, for the shading looks best when carried out simply and boldly, but the drawing of it should be decided and good. The above figure gives but one intermediary tone in shading from one colour to another, which is the ancient method of working; at the present day the weavers in the _Manufacture des Gobelins_ employ several other intermediary tones, thus allowing of finer gradation; possibly however these fine gradations are not of such great importance, and so need not have an unnecessary amount of attention and time devoted to their accomplishment. The student will do well to examine fine examples and make careful drawings from them, since this will teach the right way of going to work better than anything else can. Fig. 185 is simply a shaded leaf taken at random from a piece of weaving; the same leaf was shown in outline in fig. 180, so the two show the commencement and completion of the same piece. It will be noticed upon studying tapestry that usually all the light parts of a work are hatched with the same colour, often a buff shade, those of rich tapestries with gold thread. This sameness of colour throughout gives unity to the work. [Illustration: Fig. 185.] Sometimes after the weaving is completed a few finishing touches can be satisfactorily put in by means of single stitches taken through the fabric with a sharp-pointed embroidery needle. The dots representing the seeds upon a strawberry could be stitched in afterwards in this way, for to insert them while the work is going on would be very tedious. This kind of thing must not be overdone, however, for the stitches are apt, unless very deftly treated, to have a laid-on look, and care must be taken not to mar the evenly ribbed effect, which is one of the characteristics of tapestry. [Illustration: Fig. 186.] This weaving is a most fascinating kind of work, as will be found upon a trial. The simplest patterns look very interesting when woven, and, on the other hand, the work can be carried to any degree of complexity that the worker desires. For a first trial a piece might be done with no attempt at shading; even one such as that illustrated at fig. 186 would be suitable. This example happens to be a form particularly easy for carrying out in weaving. The worker should begin at the lower right-hand corner and work the successive flights of steps diagonally, as shown by the unfinished portion of the diagram. In the way of actual technique there is in the art of tapestry weaving not nearly as much to be learnt as there is in embroidery, for there are no varieties of methods and of stitch to be acquired; still for a person to become a skilled weaver, capable of carrying out large wall hangings, is a thing very difficult of attainment--indeed it is said that it takes as long as fifteen years of constant application to acquire the necessary knowledge and skill. To carry out designs of less magnitude and intricacy is a very different matter; success in this smaller way is far more easily attained, and is well within the reach of unprofessional people. NOTES ON THE COLLOTYPE PLATES PLATE I.--_A Detail from a XIVth Century English Cope._--The figure of Christ which is shown in this plate is taken from a central group, representing the coronation of the Virgin, in a famous cope in the possession of Colonel J. E. Butler-Bowdon. The ground is of rich red silk velvet; the face, hands, and linings of the draperies are worked in silk in split stitch; the drapery, crown, and surrounding architectural decoration are in gold thread couched by the early method. The twisted column with oak leaves and the five lobed arch are both characteristic of English work of this period. Note the use of pearls in the lion's head and in the acorns, also the charmingly drawn bird. An interesting technical point displayed in this example is that the work is done directly on to the velvet ground, instead of being first worked upon linen and afterwards as a completed piece of embroidery applied to the velvet. The method in use here, if at all possible, is always the most satisfactory. Size of detail, about eleven inches by six. PLATE II.--_Two Heads from a XIVth Century English Cope preserved at Steeple Aston, Oxfordshire._--The cope is not now in its original state, for it has been divided into two parts and used for the decoration of the altar. The background is composed of a thin greyish white silk backed with a stronger material. The white may have been originally some other colour; it is, however, in its present state, very beautiful and harmonious. The drawing of the features in this cope is remarkably refined and true to nature (the reproduction does not do full justice to the original). The ancient method, of working the faces in split stitch commencing with the middle of the cheek and continuing spirally round, then afterwards pressing the centre down by some mechanical means, is plainly to be observed here. The effective drawing of the tresses of hair in alternate lines of two colours is well seen in the left-hand example. The gold thread which is freely made use of all over the cope, upon the draperies, nimbi, and surrounding foliage, is marvellously bright and sparkling, although nearly six hundred years old. The manufacture of untarnishable gold for embroidery purposes seems beyond present day enterprise. Width of nimbus, two and a half inches. PLATE III.--_A small portion of a Quilted Coverlet, probably of Sicilian work. Date about 1400._--In this interesting example of quilting, which is exhibited in the Victoria and Albert Museum, the ground is composed of a buff-coloured linen. The raised effect is obtained by an interpadding of wool. The background is run over irregularly with white thread, in order to keep it more or less flat, and the design, which is in fairly high relief, is outlined with brown thread. The entire coverlet is embroidered with scenes from the life of Tristan. Tristan frequently engaged in battle against King Languis, the oppressor of his country. This detail represents "How King Languis (of Ireland) sent to Cornwall for the tribute." Size of detail, two feet by three. PLATE IV.--_A portion of an Altar Cloth Band, embroidered in coloured silk threads upon a white linen ground._--This is a piece of German XVth century work exhibited in the Victoria and Albert Museum. It is embroidered almost entirely in one stitch, which might be described as a variety of herring-bone. The design is made up of two motives which repeat alternately along the band--a square shaped tree and a circle, the latter decorated with floral sprays and, in the centre of it, a group of emblems. Down the middle of the design runs a series of names in fine Gothic lettering--"Ursula" and "Augustinus" being the two that occur in this plate. Width of embroidered band, four and a half inches. PLATE V.--_A portion of a late XVth century Orphrey, embroidered with the arms of Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham._--The ground is of red velvet, and is embroidered with gold thread and coloured silks. The two shields here represented bear the arms of the families of de Bohun and Fitzwalter. Each shield has for supporters two swans, and is surrounded by floral sprays. The Stafford knot unites the sprays between the shields. The chasuble upon which this orphrey is placed is made of a lovely brocaded silk decorated with falcons, peahens, and roses. Width of embroidered orphrey, about eight inches. PLATE VI.--_A detail of Foliage taken from a late XVIth century Embroidered Picture representing the story of Daphne._--The picture is worked in coloured wools and silks in cross stitch upon canvas, and is an admirable example of this kind of work, and this particular detail is a good illustration of a very satisfactory treatment of foliage. The whole panel measures about seven feet by two, and is exhibited in the Victoria and Albert Museum. Height of detail, ten and a half inches. PLATE VII.--_An Embroidered XVIIth or XVIIIth century Wool-work Curtain._--This curtain, the property of Miss Killick, is a pretty example of a small crewel-work hanging. The design is of a type that was often used upon hangings of that period. It is embroidered with brightly coloured wools upon a white linen ground, and is in a good state of preservation. Much ingenuity as well as variety of stitching are shown in the execution of the work. Size of curtain, about five feet by three. PLATE VIII.--_A portion of a large XVIIth century Linen Hanging embroidered with coloured wools._--In both design and execution this curtain is remarkably fine. The entire hanging is about eighteen feet in width by seven in height. It is embroidered with a conventional representation of a forest; in the branches of the trees lodge all kinds of birds and beasts. The type of design shown in this plate and in the last is derived from Eastern work; its introduction into England was due to the increase of trade with oriental nations, which developed about this time. Size of detail, about six feet by four. PLATE IX.--_Cutwork Lettering taken from a XVIIth century English Sampler._--The letters and surrounding decoration shown in this example of cut or open work are built up on a square network of warp and weft threads that were left at regular intervals throughout the space, when the unnecessary threads were withdrawn, and then covered with a kind of darning stitch. The letters are worked in buttonhole stitch, each fresh line being taken into the heading of the last one. The other parts of the work are carried out in either buttonhole or overcast stitch. The complete sampler is a long narrow strip of linen, across which run specimen bands of various kinds of work. It is exhibited in the Victoria and Albert Museum. Width of cutwork detail, six inches. PLATE X.--_An Embroidered Sampler._--The work is carried out in coloured silks in minute cross-stitch and occasional rows of satin stitch, upon a ground of fine single-thread canvas. It is dated 1798, and was worked by Alice Knight, the author's great-grandmother. The birds, trees, and flowers, the charming little border patterns, and the comical cats standing on either hillocks or housetops, are all characteristic of sampler work. Working the sampler was once the regular introduction to mending, marking, and embroidery, and one was done by almost every XVIIIth century child as a part of education, indeed the practice of working samplers was continued some decades into the XIXth century. Actual size of original, eighteen inches by twelve. PLATE XI.--_An Example of Persian Embroidery._--Formerly in the collection of Lord Leighton, and now in that of the London County Council's Central School of Arts and Crafts. The embroidery is carried out almost entirely in chain stitch with brilliantly coloured silks, upon a fine semi-transparent ground. The flowers that appear dark in the reproduction are worked in a bright rosy red, others are yellow and orange, and the leaves are in pale grey green outlined with a dark myrtle shade of the same. Size of panel, about five feet by four. PLATE XII.--_A Detail from an Embroidered Tablecloth._--The entire surface of this fine white linen cloth is strewn with a profusion of beautiful flowers, worked in floss silk in bright colours. The flowers were all drawn directly from nature by the worker, Mrs. W. R. Lethaby. PLATE XIII.--_An Embroidered Altar Frontal, executed by Miss May Morris, designed by Mr. Philip Webb._--The work is carried out with floss silk in bright colours and gold thread, both background and pattern being embroidered. The five crosses, that are placed at regular intervals between the vine leaves, are couched in gold passing upon a silvery silk ground. PLATE XIV.--_Two Pieces of Ancient Weaving taken from Tombs in Egypt._--These are exhibited in the Victoria and Albert Museum. The upper example is about five inches square, dated IIIrd to VIIth century, Egypto-Roman work, and is said to have decorated a child's tunic. It is woven in coloured silks upon a green ground; the colours are still wonderfully fresh and bright. Weavers may see various interesting technical as well as other points in this early work. For instance, how the difficulty of the narrow detached vertical lines, necessitated by change of colour in the weft, has been overcome by using surface stitching instead, the easier horizontal lines being woven in the usual way. A good deal of this surface stitching can be seen in the ancient weaving; sometimes an entire pattern is picked out by this method, the ground having been first woven all over in some plain colour. The lower border pattern is a band of weaving about two inches in width, Saracenic work. It is woven in coloured silks and linen thread upon the actual warp threads of the garment that it decorates. The weft threads were probably omitted for the space of one and a half inches when the fabric was being made in order that some ornamentation might be put in, in this way. Some of the weft threads have perished, leaving the warp exposed to sight; this enables the student to understand better the manner in which it was carried out. PLATE XV.--_An Example of a Tapestry Field strewn with Flowers._--This kind of decoration is characteristic of many tapestry grounds, for the style is particularly suited to the method of work, and very happy in result. The detail shown in this plate is taken from a piece of late XVIth century Flemish work; it carries on, however, a much earlier tradition. The ground is of a dark blue colour, and the flowers varied as in nature. PLATE XVI.--_A Tapestry Bag, woven in coloured silk and gold thread by the Author._--The ground is woven with black silk, decorated with gold at the top and base. The centre panel is carried out in brightly coloured silks and gold thread. The various compartments are filled with representations of flowers, birds, and fishes, upon an alternating purple and blue background. The dividing lines are of gold thread. Size of bag, ten inches by six. THE COLLOTYPE PLATES [Illustration: Plate I.--A detail from a XIVth Century English Cope.] [Illustration: Plate II.--Two Heads from a XIVth Century English Cope preserved at Steeple Aston, Oxfordshire.] [Illustration: Plate III.--A small portion of a Quilted Coverlet, probably of Sicilian work. Date about 1400.] [Illustration: Plate IV.--A portion of an Altar Cloth Band, embroidered in coloured silk threads upon a white linen ground.] [Illustration: Plate V.--A portion of a late XVth Century Orphrey, embroidered with the arms of Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham.] [Illustration: Plate VI.--A detail of Foliage taken from a late XVIth Century Embroidered Picture, representing the story of Daphne.] [Illustration: Plate VII.--An Embroidered XVIIth or XVIIIth Century Wool-work Curtain.] [Illustration: Plate VIII.--A portion of a large XVIIth Century Linen Hanging, embroidered with coloured wools.] [Illustration: Plate IX.--Cutwork Lettering taken from a XVIIth Century English Sampler.] [Illustration: Plate X.--An Embroidered Sampler.] [Illustration: Plate XI.--An example of Persian Embroidery.] [Illustration: Plate XII.--A detail from an Embroidered Tablecloth. Designed and executed by Mrs. W. R. Lethaby.] [Illustration: Plate XIII.--An Embroidered Altar Frontal, executed by Miss May Morris, designed by Mr. Philip Webb.] [Illustration: Plate XIV.--Two pieces of Ancient Weaving taken from Tombs in Egypt.] [Illustration: Plate XV.--An example of a Tapestry Field strewn with Flowers.] [Illustration: Plate XVI.--A Tapestry Bag, woven in coloured silk and gold thread by the Author.] INDEX Altar-cloth band (Plate IV.) Altar frontal (Plate XIII.) Appliances, 34 Appliances and materials for tapestry weaving, 315 Applied embroidery, 174 Applied work, 172 Background, the, 46 Bag, tapestry (Plate XVI.) Beads, 50 Bobbins, 321 Braid work, 166 _Broderie anglaise_, 222 Bullions, 235, 256 Canvas work, 147 Coat-stave, 333 Collotypes, descriptive notes on, 356 Colour, 72 Comb, 322, 344 Cope at Steeple Aston (Plate II.), 357 Cope, detail from XIVth century English (Plate I.), 356 Cord, 40, 271 Cord-making appliance, 39, 273 Cotton, 49 Couching, 164 Couching gold, ancient method of, 238 Couching gold, usual method, 250 Coverlet, quilted Sicilian (Plate III.), 358 Crewel work, 103 Curtain, XVIIth century (Plate VIII.), 361 Curtain, XVIIth century wool-work (Plate VII.), 361 Cutwork, 213, 221 Darned netting, 210 Darning, 196 Darning, pattern, 197 Design, 30, 51 Design for tapestry, 311 Designing, pattern, 51 Directions, practical, 292 Drawn thread work, 213 Dressing the coat-stave, 333 Egyptian weaving (Plate XIV.), 364 Emblems, 270 Embroidery frame used as a loom, 323 Embroidery, washing, 297 Embroidery with gold and silver threads, 229 Figure work, 69 Fine drawing, 346 Flax threads, 49 Foliage, detail of (Plate VI.), 360 Frames, embroidery, 35 Frame work, 301 Fringes, 280 Garniture of work, the, 271 Gold and silver threads, embroidery with, 229 Gold thread embroidery, 229 Heraldry, 268 Inlaid work, 180 Interlocking stitch, 347 Knife, 43 Knots, 118, 286 Knotted cord, 277 Knotted thread, 119 Laid work, 168 Lettering, 259 Lettering, cutwork, XVIIth century (Plate IX.), 362 Linen, 47 Loom, 315 Madeira work, 222 Marking, 262 Materials, 44 Materials and appliances for tapestry weaving, 315 Materials for gold work, 233 Methods of work, 164 Monograms, 259 Needles, 35, 322 Objects to work, 31, 314 Open-work fillings, 201 _Opus plumarium_, 101 Orphrey, XVth century (Plate V.), 359 Past work, study of, 28, 53 Paste, embroidery, 295 Patch work, 183 Pattern darning, 197 Pattern designing, 51 Pattern tracing, 328 Patterns, transference of, 42, 292 Persian embroidery (Plate XI.), 363 _Petit point_ pictures, 149 Picots, 143 Piercer, 43 Practical directions, 292 Precious stones, 50 Pricker, 42 Puckered work, cure of, 298 Purls, 256 Quilting, 189 Raised gold work, 253 Raised work, 192 Sampler, embroidered (Plate X.), 362 Samplers, 148 Satin, 48 Scissors, 35 Shading, 68, 348 Silk, 48, 327 Silk threads, 49 Silver and gold threads, embroidery with, 229 Spindle, 43 Stands, embroidery frame, 37 Stitches, 75 Stitch, back, 107 Stitch, basket, 131 Stitch, braid, 88 Stitch, bullion, 121 Stitch, buttonhole, 107 Stitch, cable chain, 90 Stitch, chain, 77 Stitch, chequered chain, 84 Stitch, Cretan, 134 Stitch, cross, 152 Stitch, double back stitch, 127 Stitch, feather stitch, 129 Stitch, fishbone, 131 Stitch, French knot, 120 Stitch, Gobelin, 154 Stitch, herring-bone, 126 Stitch, Holbein, 159 Stitch, insertion, various, 139 Stitch, interlocking, 347 Stitch, Irish, 155 Stitch, knot, 124 Stitch, knotted chain, 92 Stitch, long and short, 99 Stitch, open chain, 86 Stitch, overcast, 106 Stitch, plait, 156 Stitch, rococo, 162 Stitch, rope, 86 Stitch, Roumanian, 136 Stitch, satin, 95 Stitch, split, 94 Stitch, stem, 101 Stitch, stroke, 159 Stitch, tailor's buttonhole, 109 Stitch, tambour, 77 Stitch, tent, 153 Stitch, twisted chain, 85 Stitch, two-sided Italian, 156 Stitch, zigzag chain, 83 Tablecloth, embroidered (Plate XII.), 364 Tambour frame, 39 Tapestry bag (Plate XVI.), 365 Tapestry, example (Plate XV.), 366 Tapestry weaving, introduction to, 307 Tassels, 283 Tarnish of gold and silver threads, 237 Thimbles, 35 Threads, 49, 299, 327 Threads, gold and silver, 229 Tools, 34 Tools for tapestry weaving, 315 Tracing patterns, 42, 328 Tracing patterns on warp, 336 Transferring patterns, methods of, 292 Transferring patterns, requisites for, 42 Velvet, 48 Warp, 326 Warping the loom, 328 Washing embroidery, 297 Weaving, 339 Weaving, Egyptian (Plate XIV.), 364 Weaving, tapestry, 305 Work, garniture of, 271 Work, methods of, 164 Work, preparations for, 328 Work, protection and preservation of, 292 Wools, 49, 327 Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO. Edinburgh & London * * * * * EMBROIDERY MATERIALS GEORGE KENNING & SON, GOLDSMITHS, GOLD LACEMEN, AND EMBROIDERERS, are the actual manufacturers of all materials that are best for Embroidery of any and every description. [Illustration] [Illustration] The following are a few articles from the great variety they manufacture: Threads, Tambours, Braids, Laces, and Cords in Gold, Silver, Tinsel, and Aluminium; also Spangles, Sequins, Ornaments, and Beads of every possible variety. Please insist on your Draper or Fancy Warehouseman supplying only materials manufactured by GEORGE KENNING & SON. MANUFACTORY: 1/4 LITTLE BRITAIN, E.C. _And at Liverpool, Glasgow, and Manchester._ RIBBON WEAVING FACTORY, COVENTRY * * * * * J. MAYGROVE & CO. LTD. _MILLS_-- _WAREHOUSE_-- ST. ALBANS. 51 ALDERSGATE STREET, LONDON, E.C. _Manufacturers of Silks for Weaving and Embroidery._ _For REALLY RELIABLE BOILING and UNFADING DYES._ MAYGROVE'S DUCHESSE FLOSS. MAYGROVE'S TWISTED EMBROIDERY. MAYGROVE'S FILOSELLE, &c. UNEQUALLED FOR LUSTRE, PERMANENCE, AND ARTISTIC GRADUATIONS OF COLOUR. READY FOR USE. FOR WEAVING. CHINA TRAM 1000 Shades. TUSSAH TRAM AND ORGANZINE 500 Shades. ORIENTAL FLOCHE 500 Shades. WORSTED YARNS--COTTON YARNS. _STOCKED READY FOR DYEING._ Organzines, Sewings, Flosses, Twists, and SPUN SILKS. WORSTED Cords, Genappes, Mohairs, &c. &c. * * * * * PLASTER CASTS LETTERING FOR LETTER CUTTERS BY A. E. R. GILL Plaster Casts of the Stones shown on the Collotype Plates, numbers 13, 14, and 15, in the Portfolio, "Manuscript and Inscription Letters," by Edward Johnston, price 3s. 6d. net, are obtainable from the Publisher, or direct from Messrs. C. SMITH & SONS, Moulders, 15 Kentish Town Road, London, N.W., at the following prices:-- _Roman Capital Letters (Incised)._ } _"Lower-case" Italics, &c. (Incised)._ } 12s. _net per set of three._ _"Raised" Letters, Capitals, &c._ } PACKED--DELIVERED FREE IN LONDON--CARRIAGE FORWARD FOR COUNTRY These Casts being facsimiles of the actual stones make the best kind of models for Letter Cutters and Sculptors, and all who have to do with Inscriptions. Being small, they are easily handled. The Portfolio, "Manuscript and Inscription Letters," by Edward Johnston, is intended as a working supplement to his handbook, "Writing and Illuminating, and Lettering," price 6s. 6d. net. It contains 16 plates in all, measuring 9-7/8 × 12-3/8 inches, with full descriptions and notes. JOHN HOGG, _Publisher_, 13 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON, E.C. * * * * * ROBERT S. RONALD Decorator and Upholsterer [Illustration] Loom Maker to the Royal School of Art, South Kensington Table or Pedestal Looms to Order Prices on Application Office and Works-- ST. ANN'S HILL, WANDSWORTH, LONDON, S.W. * * * * * THE ARTISTIC CRAFTS SERIES BOOKBINDING AND THE CARE OF BOOKS. By DOUGLAS COCKERELL. Third Edition. 122 Drawings by NOEL ROOKE. 8 Pages Collotype Reproductions. 352 pp. 5s. net. EXTRACT FROM _The Times_. "... A capital proof of the reasoned thoroughness in workmanship, which is the first article in the creed of those who ... are attempting to carry into practice the industrial teaching of Ruskin and William Morris." SILVERWORK AND JEWELLERY. By H. WILSON. Second Edition. 280 Diagrams by the Author. 32 Pages of Collotype Reproductions. 500 pp. 6s. 6d. net. Containing special chapters, fully illustrated, based on demonstrations and with notes by Professor UNNO BISEI and Professor T. KOBAYASHI, of the Imperial Fine Art College at Tokyo, giving the traditional method of Casting, Damascening, Incrustation, Inlaying, Engraving, and Metal Colouring still practised in Japan, also on Niello, the Making of Boxes and Card Cases, with chapters on Egyptian and Oriental methods of work. WOODCARVING: DESIGN AND WORKMANSHIP. By GEORGE JACK. 79 Drawings by the Author. 16 Pages of Collotype Reproductions. 320 pp. 5s. net. EXTRACT FROM _The Builders' Journal_. "Undoubtedly the best guide to Woodcarving extant.... A practical work, written with clearness and literary power by a practical man ... of great artistic talent.... The illustrations are excellent." STAINED GLASS WORK. By C. W. WHALL. 73 Diagrams by Two of His Apprentices. 16 Pages of Collotype Reproductions. 392 pp. 5s. net. EXTRACT FROM _The Scotsman_. "It provides an exposition at once instructive and interesting of the workshop practice of the craft ... of Stained Glass, animated throughout by an encouraging and cheerful sense of the dignity and the elevating influence of such an occupation." EMBROIDERY AND TAPESTRY WEAVING. By Mrs. A. H. CHRISTIE. 178 Diagrams and Illustrations by the Author. 16 Pages of Collotype Reproductions. 320 pp. 6s. net. (_Third Edition._) EXTRACT FROM _The Pall Mall Gazette_. "Mrs. Christie has performed her task to admiration, ... and her lucid explanations of various kinds of stitches ... should be of value to all workers at embroidery or tapestry weaving and to novices anxious to learn." WRITING AND ILLUMINATING, AND LETTERING. By EDWARD JOHNSTON. 227 Illustrations and Diagrams by the Author and NOEL ROOKE. 8 Pages of Examples in Red and Black. 24 Pages of Collotype Reproductions. 512 pp. (_Fifth Edition._) EXTRACT FROM _The Athenæum_. "... This book belongs to that extremely rare class in which every line bears the impress of complete mastery of the subject. We congratulate Mr. Johnston on having produced a work at once original and complete." HAND-LOOM WEAVING. By LUTHER HOOPER. 125 Drawings by the Author and NOEL ROOKE. Coloured and Collotype Reproductions. 368 pp. 6s. net. EXTRACT FROM _The Morning Post_. "... Every phase and process in weaving is described with so clear and careful an exactitude, that, helped as the text is by the Author's sketches and diagrams, the reader should have no difficulty in conquering with its aid the rudiments of the craft." PORTFOLIOS (in the Series) already issued. SCHOOL COPIES AND EXAMPLES. Selected by W. R. LETHABY and A. H. CHRISTIE. 12 Drawing Copies (1 in colours), with Descriptive Letterpress. 3s. 6d. net. MANUSCRIPT AND INSCRIPTION LETTERS. For Schools and Classes and the Use of Craftsmen. By EDWARD JOHNSTON. With 5 Plates by A. E. R. GILL, 16 Plates in all. Full Notes and Descriptions by the Author. 3s. 6d. net. (_Second Edition._) NEW VOLUME IN THE PRESS HERALDRY FOR CRAFTSMEN AND DESIGNERS BY W. H. ST. JOHN HOPE, M.A. _Further Volumes and Portfolios in preparation._ ON WORKMANSHIP A LECTURE BY H. WILSON AUTHOR OF "SILVERWORK AND JEWELLERY" 1s. 6d. net JOHN HOGG, 13 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON 
41717	----	Transcriber's Notes: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Superscripted characters are enclosed by curly brackets (example: March 27{th}). The original text includes a diamond symbol that is represented as [Diamond] in this text version. SAMPLERS AND TAPESTRY EMBROIDERIES _Tho our Countrie everywhere is fil'd With ladies and with gentlewomen skil'd In this rare art, yet here they may discerne Some things to teach them if they list to learne And as this booke some cunning workes doth teach Too high for meane capacities to reache So for weake learners other workes here be As plaine and easie as an A B C._ --THE NEEDLE'S EXCELLENCY. [Illustration: PLATE I.--TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. HENRY VIII., EDWARD VI., MARY, AND ELIZABETH. _The Corporation of Maidstone._ (FRONTISPIECE.) The very unusual piece of Embroidery reproduced as our Frontispiece may date from the Accession of Queen Elizabeth, in which case it is the earliest specimen of an embroidery picture that we have seen. It would appear to be the creation of some exultant Protestant rejoicing at the restoration of his religion, which to him is "Good tidings of great joy"; for his Queen holds the Bible open at this verse, and is ready to defend it with her sword. Edward VI. also upholds the Bible in his upraised hand, whilst Henry VIII. has one foot on the downtrodden Pope, and the other on his crown, which he has kicked from his head. Popery is portrayed in Mary with her Rosary and Papal-crowned Dragon. The presence of the Thistle raises a doubt as to its being of the Elizabethan age, but although this flower consorts with the Rose it also does so with a pansy, which deprives it of its value as an emblem of Scotland. The piece belongs to the Corporation of Maidstone.] SAMPLERS & TAPESTRY EMBROIDERIES by MARCUS B. HUISH, LL.B. Author of "Japan and its Art," "Greek Terra Cotta Statuettes" "The American Pilgrim's Way," &c. SECOND EDITION With 24 Coloured Plates and 77 Illustrations in the Text Longmans, Green, and Co. 39 Paternoster Row, London New York, Bombay, and Calcutta 1913 All rights reserved Preface to the Second Edition _I have explained, in the chapter upon English Needlework with which this volume opens, the reasons which prompted me to take up the subject of Samplers and Tapestry Embroideries, and I have here only to thank the many who, since its first issue, have expressed their acknowledgment of the pleasure they have derived from it, and to record my gratification that it has induced some of them to start the study and collection of these interesting objects._ _In the present edition several American Samplers of considerable interest, kindly furnished by correspondents in that country, are noted and illustrated._ _I am indebted to the publishers for putting the present volume on the market at a more popular price than the expense of the first edition permitted._ Contents PAGES ENGLISH NEEDLEWORK.--ITS PRACTICE IN PAST TIMES.--ITS PLACE AMONGST THE MINOR ARTS.--MR RUSKIN'S VIEWS AS TO NEEDLEWORK IN A MUSEUM.--LACK OF A HISTORY.--EXHIBITION OF SAMPLERS.-- RANGE OF THIS VOLUME 1-5 PART I.--SAMPLERS.--THE NEED OF.--THE AGE OF.--INSCRIPTIONS ON.--ALPHABETS AND NUMERALS ON.--SIGNATURES ON.--INSCRIPTIONS ON.--DESIGN, ORNAMENT, AND COLOURING OF, INCLUDING: THE HUMAN FIGURE; ANIMALS; FLOWERS.--FURTHER INSCRIPTIONS ON.--VERSES WHICH COMMEMORATE RELIGIOUS FESTIVALS; WHICH TAKE THE FORM OF PRAYERS AND DEDICATIONS; WHICH REFER TO LIFE AND DEATH; WHICH INCULCATE DUTIES TO PARENTS AND PRECEPTORS; WHICH HAVE REFERENCE TO VIRTUE OR VICE, WEALTH OR POVERTY.--QUAINT INSCRIPTIONS; CROWNS; CORONETS; HEARTS; BORDERS.--MISCELLANEA RESPECTING SAMPLERS, NAMELY:--THE AGE AND SEX OF THE WORKERS; THE PLACE OF ORIGIN OF SAMPLERS; SAMPLERS AS RECORDS OF NATIONAL EVENTS; MAP SAMPLERS; AMERICAN SAMPLERS; FOREIGN SAMPLERS; SAMPLER LITERATURE; THE LAST OF THE SAMPLERS 7-122 PART II.--EMBROIDERIES IN THE MANNER OF TAPESTRY PICTURES.-- LARGE NUMBERS EXHIBITED AT FINE ART SOCIETY'S.--OPPORTUNITY FOR THEIR EXAMINATION, AND FOR MAKING RECORD OF THEIR HISTORY.--DIFFICULTIES SURROUNDING INVESTIGATION OF ORIGIN OF INDUSTRY.--NO APPARENT INFANCY.--NO SPECIMENS DISCOVERABLE EARLIER THAN ELIZABETHAN ERA.--THEORY AS TO FASHION ORIGINATING WITH INTRODUCTION OF TAPESTRY MANUFACTURE TO ENGLAND.--PARTICULARS OF THAT MANUFACTURE.--THREE-FOLD INTEREST OF PICTURE EMBROIDERIES: (1) SUBJECTS DEPICTED THEREON; (2) HISTORICAL MATERIAL AS TO FASHIONS; (3) AS SPECIMENS OF NEEDLEWORK.--PARTICULARS RESPECTING SUBJECTS, FASHIONS OF DRESS, HORTICULTURE, ETC. 123-141 PART III.--(1) STITCHERY OF EMBROIDERIES IN IMITATION OF TAPESTRY AND THE LIKE.--BACKGROUND STITCHES.--FIGURES IN RAISED NEEDLEWORK.--KNOT STITCHES.--PLUSH STITCH.--EMBROIDERY IN PURL AND METALLIC THREADS.--BEAD EMBROIDERY.--FIRST STAGE OF EMBROIDERED PICTURE 143-160 (2) THE STITCHERY OF SAMPLERS, WITH A NOTE ON THEIR MATERIALS.--CUT AND DRAWN WORK.--BACK STITCH.--ALPHABET STITCHES.--DARNING STITCHES.--TENT AND CROSS STITCHES.-- VARIOUS STITCHES.--MATERIALS 161-171 INDEX 173 List of Colour Plates PLATE _To face page_ I. TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. HENRY VIII., EDWARD VI., MARY, AND ELIZABETH _Frontispiece_ II. SAMPLER, BY M. C. 16TH-17TH CENTURY 9 III. PORTION OF LONG SAMPLER, BY A. S. DATED 1648 16 IV. SAMPLER, BY ELIZABETH CALTHORPE. DATED 1656 20 V. PORTION OF SAMPLER, BY MARY HALL. DATED 1662 24 VI. PORTION OF SAMPLER, BY ELIZABETH CREASEY. DATED 1686 36 VII. SAMPLER, BY HANNAH DAWE. 17TH CENTURY 42 VIII. SAMPLER, BY MARY POSTLE. DATED 1747 48 IX. SAMPLER, BY E. PHILIPS. DATED 1761 56 X. SAMPLER, BY CATHERINE TWEEDALL. DATED 1775 66 XI. SAMPLER, BY ANN CHAPMAN. DATED 1779 78 XII. SAMPLER, BY ANN MARIA WIGGINS. 19TH CENTURY 90 XIII. AMERICAN SAMPLER, BY MARTHA C. BARTON. DATED 1825 100 XIV. TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY: CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE, STONING OF MARTYRS, ETC. ABOUT 1625 123 XV. TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. THE STORY OF HAGAR AND ISHMAEL. ABOUT 1630 124 XVI. TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. CHARLES I. AND HIS QUEEN. ABOUT 1630 126 XVII. LID OF A CASKET. THE JUDGMENT OF PARIS. ABOUT 1630 130 XVIII. TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. THE STORY OF QUEEN ESTHER. ABOUT 1630 132 XIX. LID OF A CASKET. ABOUT 1660 143 XX. BACK OF CASKET IN TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. SIGNED A. K., 1657 144 XXI. BEADWORK EMBROIDERY. CHARLES II. AND HIS QUEEN, ETC. 150 XXII. TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. DATED 1735 158 XXIII. PURL EMBROIDERY. 16TH AND 17TH CENTURY 161 XXIV. DARNING SAMPLER. DATED 1788 164 Illustrations in Text FIG. PAGE 1. THE VISIT TO THE BOARDING SCHOOL, BY GEORGE MORLAND xiv 2. BOTTOM OF SAMPLER, IN KNOTTED YELLOW SILK, BY MARY CANEY, 1710 1 3. UPPER PORTION OF SAMPLER, BY PUPIL IN ORPHAN SCHOOL, CALCUTTA, 1797 9 4. SAMPLER OF CUT AND EMBROIDERED WORK. EARLY 17TH CENTURY 16 5. PORTION OF SAMPLER. 17TH CENTURY 17 6. PORTION OF SAMPLER OF CUT AND EMBROIDERED WORK. 17TH CENTURY 18 7. SAMPLERS IN THE VICTORIA AND ALBERT MUSEUM. DATED 1643, 1667, 1696 19 8. LONG SAMPLER, SIGNED ANN TURNER. 1686 24 9. SAMPLER, BY ELIZABETH BAKER. 1739 25 10. SAMPLER, BY CHARLOTTE BRONTË. 1829 29 11. SAMPLER, BY EMILY JANE BRONTË. 1829 31 12. SAMPLER, BY ANNE BRONTË. 1830 33 13. EASTER SAMPLER, BY KITTY HARISON. 1770 37 14. SAMPLER, BY ELIZABETH STOCKWELL. 1832 43 15. SAMPLER, BY SARAH YOUNG. _c._ 1750 53 16. DRAWN-WORK SAMPLER, BY S. I. D. 1649 59 17. SAMPLER, BY JEAN PORTER. 1709-10 61 18. SAMPLER. NAME ILLEGIBLE. DATE, 1742 63 19. SAMPLER, BY MARY ANDERSON. 1831 67 20. SAMPLER (? SCOTTISH). 18TH CENTURY 69 21. SMALL SCOTTISH SAMPLER, BY J. H. [JANE HEATH]. 1728 71 22. SAMPLER, BY MARY BYWATER. 1751 72 23. HEART-SHAPED SAMPLER, BY MARY IVES. 1796 73 24. DRAWN-WORK SAMPLER, BY S. W. 1700 76 25. BORDER OF MARY LOUNDS'S SAMPLER. 1726 77 26. BORDER OF MARY HEAVISIDE'S SAMPLER. 1735 77 27. BORDER OF ELIZABETH GREENSMITH'S SAMPLER. 1737 77 28. BORDER OF MARGARET KNOWLES'S SAMPLER. 1738 78 29. BORDER TO SAMPLER, BY ELIZABETH TURNER. 1771 78 30. BORDER TO SAMPLER, BY SARAH CARR. 1809 79 31. BORDER TO SAMPLER, BY SUSANNA HAYES. 1813 79 32. SMALL SAMPLER, BY MARTHA HAYNES. 1704 81 33. SAMPLER, BY SARAH PELHAM, AGED 6 83 34. SCOTTISH SAMPLER, BY ROBERT HENDERSON. 1762 85 35. TWO SMALL SAMPLERS, BY MAY JOHNSON. 1785-6 87 36. TWO SMALL SAMPLERS, BY LYDIA JOHNSON. 1784 87 37. SCOTTISH SAMPLER, BY MARY BAYLAND. 1779 89 38. SAMPLER, BY MARY MINSHULL. 1694 90 39. MAP OF NORTH AMERICA, BY M. A. K. 1788 93 40. MAP OF ENGLAND AND WALES, BY ANN BROWN 94 41. MAP OF AFRICA. 1784 95 42. SAMPLER, BY ANNE GOWER 98 43. SAMPLER, BY LOARA STANDISH 99 44. SAMPLER, BY MILES AND ABIGAIL FLEETWOOD 99 45. SAMPLER, BY ABIGAIL RIDGWAY. 1795 100 46. SAMPLER, BY ELIZABETH EASTON. 1795 101 47. SAMPLER, BY MARIA E. SPALDING. 1815 102 48. SAMPLER, BY MARTHA C. HOOTON. 1827 103 49. SAMPLER, BY THE LAMBORN FAMILY. 1822 105 50. SAMPLER, BY ELIZABETH M. FORD 106 51. SAMPLER, BY LYDIA J. COTTON. 1819 107 52. SAMPLER, BY HELEN PRICE 114 53. BEADWORK SAMPLER, BY JANE MILLS 119 54. SAMPLER, BY ELIZABETH CLARKSON. 1881 121 55. EMBROIDERED GLOVE. EARLY 17TH CENTURY 123 56. THE JUDGMENT OF PARIS. ABOUT 1630 129 57. TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY: THE FINDING OF MOSES. ABOUT 1640 134 58. PORTION OF A BOOK COVER. 16TH CENTURY 136 59. PURL AND APPLIED EMBROIDERY. ABOUT 1630 137 60. EMBROIDERY PICTURE. CHARLES II. AND HIS QUEEN. 1663 141 61. HOLLIE POINT LACE, FROM TOP OF CHRISTENING CAP. 1774 143 62. CUSHION-STITCH BACKGROUND: EMBROIDERED BOOK COVER, DATED 1703 145 63. EYELET-HOLE-STITCH: FROM A SAMPLER DATED 1811 146 64. TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. ABOUT 1640 147 65. FACE WORKED IN SPLIT-STITCH: ENLARGED FROM EMBROIDERY REPRODUCED IN FIG. 63 150 66. FACE WORKED IN SPLIT-STITCH: ENLARGED FROM LOWER PORTION OF FIG. 63 (NOT REPRODUCED) 151 67. KNOTTED-STITCH: ENLARGED FROM EMBROIDERY REPRODUCED IN FIG. 63 152 68. EMBROIDERY PICTURE: A SQUIRE AND HIS LADY. DATED 1657 155 69. HAIR OF UNRAVELLED SILK: ENLARGEMENT OF PORTION OF EMBROIDERY REPRODUCED IN PLATE 157 70. GROUNDWORK TRACING FOR EMBROIDERED PICTURE. 17TH CENTURY 159 71. MOULDS FOR KNOTTED, OR LACE-WORK, WITH SILK SPOOLS AND CASE 160 72. DRAWN-WORK SAMPLER. 17TH CENTURY 162 73. CUT AND DRAWN-WORK: ENLARGEMENT FROM 17TH CENTURY SAMPLER 163 74. SATIN-STITCH AND COMBINATION OF TYPES OF OPEN-WORK: ENLARGED FROM THE SAMPLER REPRODUCED IN FIG. 4. 17TH CENTURY 164 75. BACK-STITCH: ENLARGEMENT OF PORTION OF SAMPLER IN FIG. 5. 17TH CENTURY. TWICE ACTUAL SIZE 165 76. DARNING SAMPLER. SIGNED M. M., T. B., J. J. 1802 167 77. ENLARGED PORTION OF A DARNING SAMPLER. DATED 1785 169 [Illustration: FIG. 1.--THE VISIT TO THE BOARDING SCHOOL. BY GEORGE MORLAND. _Wallace Collection._] [Illustration: FIG. 2.--BOTTOM OF SAMPLER, IN KNITTED YELLOW SILK, BY MARY CANEY, 1710. _Mrs C. J. Longman._] English Needlework Amongst all the Minor Arts practised by our ancestresses, there was certainly no one which was so much the fashion, or in which a higher grade of proficiency was attained, as that of needlework. It was in vogue in the castle and the cottage, in the ladies' seminary and the dame's school, and a girl's education began and ended with endeavours to attain perfection in it. Amongst the earliest objects to be shown to a mother visiting her daughter at school was, as is seen in the charming picture by Morland in the Wallace Collection (Fig. 1), the sampler which the young pupil had worked.[1] These early tasks were, very certainly in the majority of instances, little cared for by the schoolgirls who produced them, but being cherished by fond parents they came in after years to be looked upon with an affectionate eye by those who had made them, and to be preserved and even handed down as heirlooms in the family. For some reason, not readily apparent, no authority on needlework has considered this by-product of the Art to be worthy of notice. In the many volumes which have been penned the writers have almost exclusively confined their attention to the more ambitious and, perhaps, more artistic performances of foreign nations. To such an extent has this omission extended that in a leading treatise on "Needlework as Art," samplers are dismissed in a single line, and in a more recent volume they are not even mentioned. It follows that the illustrations for such books are almost without exception culled from foreign sources, to the entire exclusion of British specimens. It may be contended that the phase of needlework to which special attention is drawn in this volume cannot be classed amongst even the Minor Arts, and therefore is not worthy of the notoriety which such a work as this gives to it. Such a contention can fortunately be met by the authority of one whose word can hardly be challenged on such a question, namely, Mr Ruskin. Some years ago, upon a controversy arising in the press as to what objects should, and what should not, find a place in a museum, the author, in his capacity of editor of _The Art Journal_, induced Mr Ruskin to furnish that magazine with a series of letters containing his views on the matter. In these, after dealing with the planning of the building and its fitting up with the specialties which the industry of each particular district called for, he set aside six chambers for the due exposition of the six queenly and music-taught Arts of _Needlework_, Writing, Pottery, Sculpture, Architecture, and Painting, and in these the absolute best in each Art, so far as attainable by the municipal pocket, was to be exhibited, the rise and fall (if fallen) of each Art being duly and properly set forth. Mr Ruskin did not, however, content himself with claiming for needlework a prominent position. Had he only done this, his dictum might have availed us but little as regards admission of the branch of it to which we shall devote most of this volume. With the thoroughness which was so characteristic of him, he gave chapter and verse for the faith that was in him, clenching it with one of his usual felicitous instances, which, in this case, took as its text the indifferent stitching of the gloves which he used when engaged in forestry. Proceeding to show what the needlework chamber should contain, he designated first the structure of wool and cotton, hemp, flax, and silk, then the phases of its dyeing and spinning, and the mystery of weaving. "Finally the accomplished phase of needlework, all the acicular Art of Nations--savage and civilised--from Lapland boot, letting in no snow water, to Turkey cushion bossed with pearl; to valance of Venice gold in needlework; to the counterpanes and _Samplers_ of our own lovely ancestresses." It might appear to be by an accident that he specifically included the "Samplers of our own lovely ancestresses," but this was not so. Fine needlework was an accomplishment which was carried to an exceptional pitch of excellence by his mother, and her son was proud of her achievements, for this proficiency had descended from his grandmother, whose sampler (reproduced on Plate IX.) was probably present to Mr Ruskin's mind when he penned the sentence to which we have given prominence. Having, then, such an authority for assigning to English needlework a foremost place in any well organised museum, it may reasonably be claimed that our literature should contain some record of the sampler's evolution and history, and that our museums should arrange any materials they may possess in an order which will enable a would-be student, or any one interested, to gain information concerning the rise and fall (for such it has been) of the industry. It may be said that such information is not called for, but this can hardly be asserted in face of the fact that the first edition of this work, published at the considerable price of two guineas, was quickly exhausted, and demands have for some time been made for its reissue. The publication in question was the outcome of an exhibition held at The Fine Art Society, London, in 1900, at which some three hundred and fifty samplers, covering every decade since 1640, were shown. The interest taken in the display was remarkable, the reason probably being that almost every visitor possessed some specimen of the craft, but few had any idea that his or her possession was the descendant of such an ancestry, or had any claim to recognition beyond a purely personal one. Everyone then garnered information with little trouble and with unmistakable pleasure from the surprising and unexpected array, and the many requests that the collection should not be dispersed without an endeavour being made to perpetuate the information derived from an assemblage of so many selected examples led to the compilation of the present work. When The Fine Art Society's Exhibition was first planned the intention was to confine it to samplers, which, in themselves, formed a class sufficiently large to occupy all the space which experience showed should be allotted to them in any display with which it was not desired to weary the visitor. But it was speedily found that their evolution and _raison d'être_ could not be satisfactorily nor interestingly illustrated without recourse being had to the embroidered pictures alongside of which they originated, and which they subsequently supplanted, and to other articles for the decoration or identification of which samplers came into being. Consequently the collection was enlarged so as to include three sections: first the embroidered pieces which range themselves under the heading of "Pictures in imitation of Tapestry"; then samplers; and lastly the miscellaneous articles, such as books, dresses, coats, waistcoats, gloves, shoes, caskets, cases, purses, etc., which were broidered by those who had learned the art from sampler making, or from the use of samplers as guides. It would, without doubt, have added interest and variety to this volume could all these classes have been considered in it, but to include the last-named would have necessitated enlarging its bulk beyond practicable limits, and, besides, it would then have covered ground, much of which has already been very satisfactorily and completely dealt with. The work has consequently followed the lines of the Exhibition in so far as it includes "Samplers" and "Embroideries in the manner of Tapestry," which are dealt with in successive sections, and are followed by one upon the "stitchery" employed, written by Mrs Head, who has unfortunately died since the publication of the first edition. The author much regrets having given currency on page 5 to the report of Mrs. Head's death, which he is glad to learn is incorrect. PART I Samplers [Illustration: PLATE II.--SAMPLER BY M. C. 16TH-17TH CENTURY. _This early pattern Sampler is described at p. 16._] [Illustration: FIG. 3.--UPPER PORTION OF SAMPLER BY PUPIL IN ORPHAN SCHOOL, CALCUTTA, 1797. _Author's Collection._] PART I Samplers The sampler as a pattern, or example, from which to learn varieties of needlework, whether of design or stitches, must have existed almost as long as the Art of Embroidery, which we know dates back into as distant a past as any of the Arts. But when we set about the investigation of its evolution, we did not propose to trouble our readers with the history of an infancy which would have been invested with little interest and less Art; we did, however, hope to be able to extend our illustrated record backwards to a date which would be limited only by the ravages which time had worked upon the material of which the sampler was composed--a date which would probably take us back to an epoch when the Art displayed upon it was of an unformed but still of an interesting character. We must at the outset admit that we have been altogether disappointed in our quest. For some two hundred and fifty years, which most will admit to be a fair stretch of time, we can easily compile a record of genuinely dated and well-preserved specimens, filling not only every decade, but almost every year. The Art displayed, whether it be in design or dexterity with the needle, improves as we proceed backwards, until, in the exact centre of the seventeenth century, we arrive at a moment when little is left to be desired. We then have before us a series of samplers wherein the design is admirable, the stitches are of great variety, and the materials of which they are composed are, in an astonishing number of instances, as fresh and well preserved as those of to-day. But at that moment, to our astonishment, the stream is arrested, and the supply fails, for no, at present, discoverable reason. This sudden arrest can in no way be explained. It would appear as if, with the downfall of the monarchy under Charles I., with which it almost exactly corresponds, a holocaust had been made of every sampler that existed. It is most exasperating, for it is as if one had studied the life of a notable character backwards through its senility, old age, and manhood, to lose all trace of its youth and infancy. Nor is there any apparent reason for this failure of the output. As we shall show later on, needlework for a century previously was in the heyday of its fashion. Every article of dress and furniture was decked out with it. As an instance, the small branch of needlework which we discuss in our second part was mainly in vogue in the first half of the seventeenth century, when we are searching in vain for specimens of samplers. Samplers, too, for generations previously are recorded in the literature of the time as common objects of household furniture. The specimens even of our earliest recorded decade cover no less than five years, 1651 (three), 1649, 1648 (three), 1644, 1643, and yet beyond the last-named date we encounter an entire blank. This cannot be the limit of dated specimens. Earlier ones must exist, but the publicity of a very well advertised exhibition, which brought notifications of samplers by the thousand, did not produce them. Neither have the public museums, nor indefatigable collectors of many years' standing, been able to obtain them, save two of the earliest years, 1643 and 1644, which have been acquired by the Victoria and Albert Museum, and of which that of 1643 is reproduced in Fig. 7. Our study of the sampler must therefore be based upon the materials at our disposal, and from these we shall analyse it with reference to its _raison d'être_, age, decorative qualities, characteristics, and the persons by whom it was worked. The Need of Samplers In these days of sober personal attire, in which the adornment of our houses is almost entirely confined to the products of the loom, the absorbing interest which needlework possessed, and the almost entire possession which, in the Middle Ages, it took of the manual efforts of womankind, is apt to be lost sight of. In 1583, Stubbes, in his "Anatomy of Abuses," wrote that the men were "decked out in fineries even to their shirts, which are wrought throughout with needlework of silke, curiously stitched with open seams and many other knacks besides," and that it was impossible to tell who was a gentleman "because all persons dress indiscriminately in silks, velvets, satins, damasks, taffeties, and such like." So, too, as regards the fair sex it was the same, from the Queen, who had no less than 2,000 dresses in her wardrobe, downwards. In France, almost at the same moment (in 1586), a petition was presented to Catherine de Medicis on "The Extreme Dearness of Living," setting forth that "mills, lands, pastures, woods, and all the revenues are wasted on embroideries, insertions, trimmings, tassels, fringes, hangings, gimps, needleworks, small chain stitchings, quiltings, back stitchings, etc., new diversities of which are invented daily." Everyone worked with the needle. We read that the lady just named gathered round her her daughters, their cousins, and sometimes the exiled Marie Stuart, and passed a great portion of the time after dinner in needlework. A little later Madame de Maintenon worked at embroidery, not only in her apartments, but even when riding or driving she was "hardly fairly ensconced in her carriage than she pulled her needlework out of the bag she carried with her." The use of embroidery was not confined to personal adornment, but was employed in the decoration of the various objects which then went to make up the furniture of a house, such as curtains, bed-hangings, tablecloths, chair coverings, cushions, caskets, books, purses, and even pictures. The luxury of the dwelling and the household had also of late increased to an extent that called for the possession of numbers of each article, whether it were clothing, table, or bed napery. Identification by marking and numbering became necessary, and as, probably, the very limited library of the house seldom contained books of ornamental lettering and numerals, samplers were made to furnish them. The evolution of the sampler is thus easily traceable. First of all consisting of decorative patterns thrown here and there without care upon the surface of a piece of canvas (see Plate II.); then of designs placed in more orderly rows, and making in themselves a harmonious whole; then added thereto alphabets and figures for the use of those who marked the linen, and as an off-shoot imitation of tapestry pictures by the additions of figures, houses, etc. Finally it was adopted as an educational task in the schools, as a specimen of phenomenal achievement at an early age, and as a means whereby moral precept might be prominently advertised. As we have said, the samplers which have come down to us, and the age of which is certified by their bearing a date, do not extend beyond two hundred and seventy years, but those even of that age are writ all over with evidence that the sampler was then a fully developed growth, and must have been the descendant of a long line of progenitors. That they were in vogue long before this is proved by the references to them in literature as articles the use of which was a common one. Before proceeding further it may be well to cite some of these. The earliest record which we have met with is one by the poet Skelton (1469-1529), who speaks of "the sampler to sowe on, the laces to embroide." The next is an inventory of Edward VI. (1552), which notes a parchment book containing-- "_Item_: Sampler or set of patterns worked on Normandy canvas, with green and black silks." To Shakespeare we naturally turn, and are not disappointed, for we find that in his "Midsummer Night's Dream," Act iii. scene 2, Helena addresses Hermia as follows:-- "O, is all forgot? All schooldays' friendship, childhood innocence? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both working of one song, both in one key, As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds Had been incorporate." And in "Titus Andronicus," Act ii. scene 4, Marcus speaks of Philomel as follows:-- "Fair Philomel, she but lost her tongue, And in a tedious sampler sewed her mind." Sir Philip Sidney (1554-86), in his "Arcadia," introduces a sampler as follows:-- "And then, O Love, why dost thou in thy beautiful sampler set such a work for my desire to take out?" And Milton in "Comus" (1634):-- "And checks of sorry grain will serve to ply The sampler, and to tear the housewife's wool." In "The Crown Garland of Golden Roses," 1612, is "A short and sweet sonnet made by one of the Maides of Honor upon the death of Queene Elizabeth, which she sowed upon a sampler, in red silk, to a new tune of 'Phillida Flouts Me'"; beginning "Gone is Elizabeth whom we have lov'd so dear." In the sixteenth century samplers were deemed worthy of mention as bequests; thus Margaret Tomson, of Freston in Holland, Lincolnshire, by her will proved at Boston, 25th May 1546, gave to "Alys Pynchbeck, my systers doughter, my sampler with semes." In Lady Marian Cust's work on embroidery, mention is made of a sampler of the reign of Henry VIII., and a rough illustration is given of it; we have endeavoured to trace this piece, but have been unable to find it either in the possession of Viscount Middleton or of Lord Midleton, although both of them are the owners of other remarkable specimens of needlework. It is evident from these extracts that samplers were common objects at least as early as the sixteenth century. * * * * * The sampler in its latest fashion differed very materially both in form and design from its progenitors. Consisting originally of odds and ends of decorative designs, both for embroidery and lacework, scattered without any order over the surface of a coarse piece of canvas, its first completed form was one of considerable length and narrow breadth, the length being often as much as a yard, and the breadth not more than a quarter. The reason for this may well have been the necessity of using a breadth of material which the looms then produced, for the canvas is utilised to its full extent, and is seldom cut or hemmed at the sides. Be that as it may, the shape was not an inconvenient one, for whilst its width was sufficient to display the design, its height enabled a quantity of patterns to follow one another from top to bottom. These consisted at first of designs only, in embroidery and lace, to which were subsequently added numerals and alphabets. Later followed texts, and then verses, which, with the commencement of the eighteenth century, practically supplanted ornaments. The sampler thereupon ceased to be a text-book for the latter, and became only a chart on which are set out varieties of lettering and alphabets. Still later it was transformed into a medium for the display of the author's ability in stitching, the alphabet even disappearing, and the ornament (if such it can be called) being merely a border in which to frame a pretty verse, and a means whereby empty spaces could be filled, Art at that epoch not having learnt that an empty space could be of any value to a composition. How these changes came about, with their approximate dates, may now be considered. The Age of a Sampler The approximate date of any sampler, which is not more than two hundred and fifty years old, should, from the illustrations given in this volume, be capable of being arrived at without much difficulty, and it is, therefore, only those undated specimens which, from their appearance, may be older than that period that call for consideration here. They are but few in number, and a comparison of one or two of them may be of service as indicating the kind of examination to which old specimens should be subjected. [Illustration: FIG. 4.--SAMPLER OF CUT AND EMBROIDERED WORK. EARLY 17TH CENTURY. _The late Canon Bliss._] [Illustration: PLATE III.--PORTION OF LONG SAMPLER BY A. S. DATED 1648. _Author's Collection._ Owing to its great length this Sampler is not shown in its entirety. A portion of the upper part, which consists of various unconnected designs, and figures of birds, beetles, flies, and crayfish, has been omitted. In the portion illustrated is a man with a staff followed by a stag bearing a leaf in its mouth, a unicorn and lion, and the initials "A.S.," with date 1648. The bands of ornaments which follow are in several instances those which find a place nearly two centuries later as the borders of Samplers still. The lower portion is interesting for the changes which are rung upon the oak leaf and acorn. The silks of which it is made are in three colours only--blue, pink, and a yellowish green--which are worked upon a coarsish linen. Size, 34-3/4 × 8-1/2. It is in the author's collection. A somewhat similar Sampler, dated 1666, is in the Victoria and Albert Museum.] The earliest samplers present but little of the regularity of design which marks the dated ones. They were made for use and not for ornament, a combination which was probably always aimed at in those where regularity and order marked the whole. They would resemble that illustrated in Plate II., which bears evidence that it was nothing more or less than an example, whence a variety of patterns could be worked, for in almost every instance the design is shown in both an early and complete condition. It is somewhat difficult to assign a date to it, but the employment of silver and gold wirework to a greater or lesser extent in almost every part,[2] the coarse canvas upon which it is worked, and the colours, point to its being of the Elizabethan or early Jacobean period, the linked S's in Fig. 5 perhaps denoting the Stuart period. One of the two specimens of 1648 (Plate III.) continues in its upper portion this dropping of the decoration in a haphazard way on the canvas, although the greater part of it is strictly confined to rows of regular form. At first sight Fig. 4 should for the same reason be assigned to an earlier date than 1648, for the greater, and not the lesser, portion of it is embroidered without any apparent design. But more careful consideration discloses the fact that the sampler was evidently begun at the top with thorough regularity, and it was only at a later stage that the worker probably tired, and decided to amuse herself with more variety and less formality. Nor can an earlier date be assigned to Fig. 5 on account of the irregularity and incompleteness of the lines, which have evidently been carried out no further than to show the pattern.[3] [Illustration: FIG. 5.--PORTION OF SAMPLER. 17TH CENTURY.] [Illustration: FIG. 6.--PORTION OF SAMPLER OF CUT AND EMBROIDERED WORK. 17TH CENTURY. _The late Mrs Head._] The forms which the lettering takes will probably be found to be one of the best guides to the age of the early samplers, and on this ground Fig. 6, with its peculiar G and its reversed P for a Q, may be earlier than 1650, although the stags and the pear-shaped ornament beneath them are closely allied to those in Plate III., dated 1648. [Illustration: FIG. 7.--SAMPLERS IN THE VICTORIA AND ALBERT MUSEUM. DATED 1643, 1667, AND 1696.] [Illustration: PLATE IV.--SAMPLER BY ELIZABETH CALTHORPE. DATED 1656. _Mrs Charles Longman._ This small Sampler (it measures only 17 × 7) is a remarkable testimony to the goodness of the materials used by our ancestors, and the care that has been taken in certain instances to preserve these early documents of family history. For it is over two hundred and sixty years since Elizabeth Calthorpe's very deft fingers produced what even now appears to be a very skilled performance, and every thread of silk and of the canvas groundwork is as fresh as the day that it emerged from the dyer's hands. The design is one of the unusual pictorial and ornamental combinations, the pictorial representing the Sacrifice of Isaac in two scenes.] Texts and mottoes also furnish a clue to age, for they extend backwards beyond 1686 on but one known sampler, namely that of Martha Salter in the Victoria and Albert Museum, dated 1651, which has the maxim, "The feare of God is an excellent gift," although on such articles as purses and the like they are to be found much earlier, and the "Sonnet to Queen Elizabeth," to which we have referred, shows that they were in vogue in 1612. Age may also be approximated by the ornament and by the material of which the sampler is made, which differs as time goes on. The following table has been formed from many specimens that have come under my inspection; it shows the earliest date at which various forms of ornament appear on dated samplers so far as I have been able to trace them. Adam and Eve, figure of 1709 Alphabet 1643 Border enclosing sampler 1726 Border of flowing naturalistic flowers 1730 Boxers (and until 1758) 1648 Crown 1691 Eyelet form of lettering (? Anne Gover's, _circ._ 1610) 1672 _Fleur-de-Lys_ (see, however, Plate III.) 1742 Flower in vase 1742 Heart 1751 House 1765 Inscription 1662 Motto or text 1651 Mustard-coloured canvas 1728 Name of maker (? Anne Gover's, _circ._ 1610) 1648 Numerals 1655 Rows of ornament (latest 1741) 1648 Stag (but only common between 1758 and 1826) 1648 The Spies to Canaan 1804 Verse (? Lora Standish, _circ._ 1635) 1696 Lettering on Samplers It is from this, rather than from any other feature, that we trace the evolution of the sampler. Originally a pattern sheet of devices and ornaments, there were added to it in time alphabets and numerals of various kinds, which the increased luxury of the house called for as aids to the marking of the linen and clothes. Later on the monotony of alphabets and numerals was varied by the addition of the maker's name, the year, an old saw or two, and ultimately flights into moral or religious verse. Alphabets and Numerals Although a sampler without either alphabets or numerals would seem to be lacking in the very essence of its being, it is almost certain that the earliest forms did not contain either, but (like that in Plate II.) were merely sheets of decorative designs. For the need of pattern-books of designs would as certainly precede that of copy-books of alphabets and numerals, as the pleasure of embroidering designs upon garments preceded that of marking their ownership by names, and their quantity by figures. A sampler would seldom, if ever, be used as a text-book for children to learn letters or figures from, except with the needle, and the need for lettering and figuring upon them would, therefore, as we have said, only arise when garments or napery became sufficiently common and numerous to need marking. This period had clearly been reached when our earliest dated samplers were made, for, out of dated specimens of the seventeenth century that I have examined, two-thirds carry the alphabet upon them, and the majority have the numerals. It is rare to find later samplers without them, those of the eighteenth century containing assortments of every variety of lettering, Scottish ones especially laying themselves out for elaborately designed and florid alphabets. With the advent of the nineteenth century, however, the sampler began to lose its _raison d'être_, and quite one-half of those then made omit either the alphabet, or numerals, or both. Signatures Initials, which are followed by signatures, occur upon samplers of the earliest date. It is true that one or two of the undated samplers, which probably are earlier than any of the dated ones, carry neither, but as a rule initials, or names, are found upon all the early specimens. Thus the early one in Plate II. has the initials "M. C.," and the two dated in 1648 are marked respectively "A. S." and "Rebekah Fisher," and that of 1649, "S. I. D." In later times unsigned samplers are the exception. Inscriptions The earliest inscriptions are practically only signatures, thus: "Mary Hall is my name and when I was thirteen years of age I ended this in 1662"; or, somewhat amplified: "Ann Wattel is my name with my needle and thred I ded this sam and if it hath en beter I wold----" (Remainder illegible.)[4] The earliest inscriptions, other than a signature such as the foregoing, that I have met with are Lora Standish's (Fig. 43) and Miles Fletwood's referred to under "American Samplers," dated 1654 (Fig. 44), and which has the rhyme, "In prosperity friends will be plenty but in adversity not one in twenty." The next, dated 1686, has a saw which is singularly appropriate to a piece of needlework: "Apparell thy self with ivstice and cloth thy self with chastitie so shall thov bee happi and thy works prosper. Ann Tvrner" (Fig. 8). It is dated 1686. [Illustration: FIG. 8.--LONG SAMPLER, SIGNED ANN TURNER, 1686. _The late Mr A. Tuer._] In Plate VI., on a sampler of the same year, we have wording which is not infrequently met with in the cycles which follow, as, for instance, in Mrs Longman's sampler, dated 1696, and in one of 1701. It runs thus:-- "Look well to that thoo takest in Hand Its better worth then house or Land. When Land is gone and Money is spent Then learning is most Excelent Let vertue be Thy guide and it will keep the out of pride Elizabeth Creasey Her Work done in the year 1686." Dated in 1693-94 are the set of samplers recording national events, to which reference will be made elsewhere. In the last-named year (1694) a sampler bears the verse: "Love thou thee Lord and he will be a tender father unto thee." And one of 1698, "Be not wise in thy own eyes."--_Sarah Chamberlain._ [Illustration: PLATE V.--PORTION OF SAMPLER BY MARY HALL. DATED 1662. This plate only shows the upper half of a remarkably preserved Sampler. Like its fellow (_Plate VI._) it is distinguished by its admirable decorative qualities of colour and design. The lower portion, not reproduced, consists of three rows of designs in white thread, and four rows of drawn work. The inscription, which is in the centre, and is reproduced in part, runs thus: "MaRy HaLL IS My NaMe AnD WHen I WaS THIRTeen yeaRS OF AGE I ENDED THIS In 1662." Size, 34 x 8-1/2.] [Illustration: FIG. 9.--SAMPLER BY ELIZ. BAKER. DATED 1739.] A preference for saws rather than rhymes continues until the eighteenth century is well advanced. The following are instances:-- "If you know Christ you need know little more if not Alls lost that you have LaRnt before."--_Elisabeth Bayles_, 1703. "The Life of Truth buteafieth Youth and maketh it lovely to behold Blessed are they that maketh it there staey and pryes it more than gold it shall be to them a ryoul diadem transending all earthly joy."--_Elisabeth Chester_, 1712. "Keep a strict guard over thy tongue, thine ear and thine eye, lest they betray thee to talk things vain and unlawful. Be sparing of thy words, and talk not impertinently or in passion. Keep the parts of thy body in a just decorum, and avoid immoderate laughter and levity of behaviour."--_Sarah Grimes_, 1730. "Favour is deceitful And beauty is vain But a woman that feareth the Lord She shall be praised."--_Mary Gardner, aged 9_, 1740. Another undated one of the period is:-- "Awake, arise behold thou Hast thy Life ALIFe ThY Breath ABLASt at night LY Down Prepare to have thy Sleep thy Death thy Bed Thy Grave." One with leisure might search out the authors of the doggerel religious and moral verses which adorned samplers. The majority are probably due to the advent of Methodism, for we only find them occurring in any numbers in the years which followed that event. It may be noted that "Divine and Moral Songs for Children," by Isaac Watts, was first published in 1720, that Wesley's Hymns appeared in 1736, and Dr Doddridge's in 1738. We may here draw attention to the eighteenth-century fashion of setting out the Lord's Prayer and the Ten Commandments (Fig. 9), and other lengthy manuscripts from the Old Testament in tablets similar to those painted and hung in the churches of the time. The tablets in the samplers are flanked on either side by full length figures of Christ and Moses, or supported by the chubby winged cherubs of the period which are the common adornments of the Georgian gravestones. In the exhibition at The Fine Art Society's were specimens dated 1715, 1735, 1740, 1757, and 1762, the Belief taking, in three instances, the place of the Commandments. On occasions the pupil showed her proficiency in modern languages as well as with the needle, by setting out the Lord's Prayer in French, or even in Hebrew. Contemporaneously with such lengthy tasks in lettering as the Tables of the Law, came other feats of compassing within the confines of a sampler whole chapters of the Bible, such as the 37th Chapter of Ezekiel, worked by Margaret Knowles in 1738; the 134th Psalm (a favourite one), by Elizabeth Greensmith in 1737, and of later dates the three by members of the Brontë family. The last-named samplers (Figs. 10, 11, and 12) by three sisters of the Brontë family which, through the kindness of their owner, Mr Clement Shorter, I am able to include here, have, it will be seen, little except a personal interest attaching to them. In comparison with those which accompany them they show a strange lack of ornament, and a monotony of colour (they are worked in black silk on rough canvas) which deprive them of all attractiveness in themselves. But when it is remembered who made them, and their surroundings, these appear singularly befitting and characteristic. For, as the dates upon them show, they were produced in the interval which was passed by the sisters at home between leaving one ill-fated school, which caused the deaths of two sisters, and their passing to another. It was a mournful, straitened home in which they lived, one in which it needed the ardent Protestantism that is breathed in the texts broidered on the samplers to uphold them from a despair that can almost be read between the lines. It was also, for one at least of them, a time of ceaseless activity of mind and body, and we can well understand that the child Charlotte, who penned, between the April in which her sampler was completed and the following August, the manuscript of twenty-two volumes, each sixty closely written pages, of a catalogue, did not take long to work the sampler which bears her name. The ages of the three girls when they completed these samplers were: Charlotte, 13; Emily Jane, 11; and Anne, 10. [Illustration: FIG. 10.--SAMPLER BY CHARLOTTE BRONTË. DATED 1829. _Mr Clement Shorter._] [Illustration: FIG. 11.--SAMPLER BY EMILY JANE BRONTË. DATED 1829. _Mr Clement Shorter._] [Illustration: FIG. 12.--SAMPLER BY ANNE BRONTË. DATED 1830. _Mr Clement Shorter._] But the lengthiest task of all was set to six poor little mortals in the Orphans' School, near Calcutta, in Bengal, East Indies. These wrought six samplers "by the direction of Mistress Parker," dividing between them the longest chapter in the Bible, namely, the 119th Psalm. It was evidently a race against time, for on each is recorded the date of its commencement and finish, being accomplished by them between the 14th of February and the 23rd of June 1797. At the top of each is a view of a different portion of the school; one of these is reproduced in Fig. 3. Returning to the chronological aspect of sampler inscriptions. As the eighteenth century advances we find verses coming more and more into fashion, although at first they are hardly distinguishable from prose, as, for instance, in the following of 1718:-- "You ask me why I love, go ask the glorius son, why it throw the world doth run, ask time and fat [fate?] the reason why it flow, ask dammask rosees why so full they blow, and all things elce suckets fesh which forceeth me to love. By this you see what car my parents toock of me. Elizabeth Matrom is my name, and with my nedell I rought the same, and if my judgment had beene better, I would have mended every letter. And she that is wise, her time will pris (e), she that will eat her breakfast in her bed, and spend all the morning in dressing of her head, and sat at deaner like a maiden bride, God in His mercy may do much to save her, but what a cas is he in that must have her. Elizabeth Matrom. The sun sets, the shadows fleys, the good consume, and the man he deis." More than one proposal has been made, in all seriousness, during the compilation of this volume, that it would add enormously to its interest and value if every inscription that could be found upon samplers were herein set out at length. It is needless to say that it has been altogether impossible to entertain such a task. It is true that the feature of samplers which, perhaps, interests and amuses persons most is the quaint and incongruous legends that so many of them bear, but I shall, I believe, have quite sufficiently illustrated this aspect of the subject if I divide it into various groups, and give a few appropriate examples of each. These may be classified under various headings. Verses commemorating Religious Festivals These are, perhaps, more frequent than any others. Especially is this the case with those referring to Easter, which is again and again the subject of one or other of the following verses:-- "The holy feast of Easter was injoined To bring Christ's Resurrection to our Mind, Rise then from Sin as he did from the Grave, That by his Merits he your Souls may save. "White robes were worn in ancient Times they say, And gave Denomination to this Day But inward Purity is required most To make fit Temples for the Holy Ghost." _Mary Wilmot_, 1761. Or the following:-- "See how the lilies flourish wite and faire, See how the ravens fed from heaven are; Never distrust thy God for cloth and bread While lilies flourish and the Raven's fed." _Mary Heaviside_, 1735. Or the variation set out on Fig. 19. [Illustration: PLATE VI.--PORTION OF SAMPLER BY ELIZABETH CREASEY. DATED 1686. _The Late Mr A. Tuer._ This Sampler, of which only the upper half is reproduced, is remarkable not only for the decorative qualities of its design but for its perfect state of preservation. It consists, besides the four rows which are seen, of one other in which the drawn work is subservient in quantity to the embroidery, and of seven rows in which the reverse is the case. The inscription, which is set out below, alternates in rows with those of the design. The butter colour of the linen ground is well reproduced in the plate. The original measures 32×8. INSCRIPTION. "Look Well to that thou takest in Hand Its Better Worth Then house Or Land When Land is gone and Money is spent Then learn ing is most Excelent Let vertue Be Thy guide and it will kee p the out of pride Elizabeth Creasey Her work Done in the year 1686."] As also in that by Kitty Harison, in our illustration, Fig. 13. [Illustration: FIG. 13.--EASTER SAMPLER BY KITTY HARISON. DATED 1770.] The Christmas verse is usually:-- "Glory to God in the Highest"; but an unusual one is that in Margaret Fiddes's sampler, 1773:-- "The Night soon past, it ran so fast. The Day Came on Amain. Our Sorrows Ceast Our Hopes Encreast once more to Meet again A Star appears Expells all Fears Angels give Kings to Know A Babe was sent With that intent to Conquer Death below." Ascension Day is marked by:-- "The heavens do now retain our Lord Until he come again, And for the safety of our souls He there doth still remain. And quickly shall our King appear And take us by the hand And lead us fully to enjoy The promised Holy Land." _Sarah Smith_, 1794. Whilst Passion Week is recognisable in:-- "Behold the patient Lamb, before his shearer stands," etc. The Crucifixion itself, although it is portrayed frequently in German samplers (examples in The Fine Art Society's Exhibition were dated 1674, 1724, and 1776), is seldom, if ever, found in English ones, but for Good Friday we have the lines:-- "Alas and did my Saviour bleed For such a worm as I?" Verses taking the Form of Prayers, Dedications, Etc. Amongst all the verses that adorn samplers there were none which apparently commended themselves so much as those that dedicated the work to Christ. The lines usually employed are so familiar as hardly to need setting out, but they have frequent varieties. The most usual is:-- "Jesus permit thy gracious name to stand As the first Effort of young Phoebe's hand And while her fingers on this canvas move Engage her tender Heart to seek thy Love With thy dear Children let her Share a Part And write thy name thyself upon her Heart." _Harriot Phoebe Burch, aged 7 years_, 1822. A variation of this appears in the much earlier piece of Lora Standish (Fig. 43). Another, less common, but which again links the sampler with a religious aspiration, runs:-- "Better by Far for Me Than all the Simpsters Art That God's commandments be Embroider'd on my Heart." _Mary Cole_, 1759. Verses to be used upon rising in the morning or at bedtime are not unfrequent; the following is the modest prayer of Jane Grace Marks (1807). "If I am right, oh teach my heart Still in the right to stay, If I am wrong, thy grace impart To find that better way." But one in my possession loses, by its ludicrousness, all the impressiveness which was intended:-- "Oh may thy powerful word Inspire a breathing worm To rush into thy kingdom Lord To take it as by storm. Oh may we all improve Thy grace already given To seize the crown of love And scale the mount of heaven." _Sarah Beckett_, 1798. Lastly, a prayer for the teacher:-- "Oh smile on those whose liberal care Provides for our instruction here; And let our conduct ever prove We're grateful for their generous love." _Emma Day_, 1837. Verses Referring to Life and Death The fact that "Religion never was designed to make our pleasures less" appears seldom or never to have entered into the minds of those who set the verses for young sampler workers. From the earliest days when they plied their needle their thoughts were directed to the shortness of life and the length of eternity, and many a healthy and sweet disposition must have run much chance of being soured by the morbid view which it was forced to take of the pleasures of life. For instance, a child of seven had the task of broidering the following lines:-- "And now my soul another year Of thy short life is past I cannot long continue here And this may be my last." And one, no older, is made to declare that:-- "Thus sinners trifle, young and old, Until their dying day, Then would they give a world of gold To have an hour to pray." Or:-- "Our father ate forbidden Fruit, And from his glory fell; And we his children thus were brought To death, and near to hell." Or again:-- "There's not a sin that we commit Nor wicked word we say But in thy dreadful book is writ Against the judgment day." A child was not even allowed to wish for length of days. Poor little Elizabeth Raymond, who finished her sampler in 1789, in her eighth year, had to ask:-- "Lord give me wisdom to direct my ways I beg not riches nor yet length of days My life is a flower, the time it hath to last Is mixed with frost and shook with every blast." A similar idea runs through the following:-- "Gay dainty flowers go simply to decay, Poor wretched life's short portion flies away; We eat, we drink, we sleep, but lo anon Old age steals on us never thought upon." Not less lugubrious is Esther Tabor's sampler, who, in 1771, amidst charming surroundings of pots of roses and carnations, intersperses the lines:-- "Our days, alas, our mortal days Are short and wretched too Evil and few the patriarch says And well the patriarch knew." A very common verse, breathing the same strain, is:-- "Fragrant the rose, but it fades in time The violet sweet, but quickly past the Prime White lilies hang their head and soon decay And whiter snow in minutes melts away Such and so with'ring are our early joys Which time or sickness speedily destroys." And the melancholy which pervades the verse on the sampler of Elizabeth Stockwell (Fig. 14) is hardly atoned for by the brilliant hues in which the house is portrayed. [Illustration: PLATE VII.--SAMPLER BY HANNAH DAWE. 17TH CENTURY. _Formerly in the Author's Collection._ This is a much smaller specimen than we are wont to find in "long" Samplers, for it measures only 18 × 7-1/4. It differs also from its fellows in that the petals of the roses in the second and third of the important bands are in relief and superimposed. The rest of the decoration, on the other hand, partakes much more of an outline character than is usual. As a specimen of a seventeenth-century Sampler it leaves little to be desired. It is signed Hannah Dawe.] [Illustration: FIG. 14.--SAMPLER BY ELIZABETH STOCKWELL. 1832. _The late Mr A. Tuer._] The gruesomeness of the grave is forcibly brought to notice in a sampler dated 1736:-- "When this you see, remember me, And keep me in your mind; And be not like the weathercock That turn att every wind. When I am dead, and laid in grave, And all my bones are rotten, By this may I remembered be When I should be forgotten." Ann French put the same sentiment more tersely in the lines:-- "This handy work my friends may have When I am dead and laid in grav." 1766. It is a relief to turn to the quainter and more genuine style of Marg't Burnell's verse taken from Quarles's "Emblems," and dated 1720:-- "Our life is nothing but a winters day, Some only breake their fast, & so away, Others stay dinner, & depart full fed, The deeper age but sups and goes to bed. Hee's most in debt, that lingers out the day, Who dyes betimes, has lesse and lesse to pay." This verse has crossed the Atlantic, and figures on American samplers. But the height of despair was not reached until the early years of the nineteenth century, when "Odes to Passing Bells," and such like, brought death and the grave into constant view before the young and hardened sinner thus:-- ODE TO A PASSING BELL "Hark my gay friend that solemn toll Speaks the departure of a soul 'Tis gone, that's all we know not where, Or how the embody'd soul may fare Only this frail & fleeting breath Preserves me from the jaws of death Soon as it fails at once I'm gone And plung'd into a world not known." _Ann Gould Seller, Hawkchurch_, 1821. Samplers oftentimes fulfilled the rôle of funeral cards, as, for instance, this worked in black:-- "In memory of my beloved Father John Twaites who died April 11 1829. Life how short--Eternity how long. Also of James Twaites My grandfather who died Dec. 31, 1814. How loved, how valu'd once, avails thee not To whom related, or by whom begot, A heap of dust alone remains of thee, 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be." Curiously enough, whilst compiling this chapter the writer came across an artillery non-commissioned officer in the Okehampton Camp who, in the intervals of attending to the telephone, worked upon an elaborate Berlin woolwork sampler, ornamented with urns, and dedicated "To the Memory of my dear father," etc. Duties to Parents and Preceptors That the young person who wrought the sampler had very much choice in the selection of the saws and rhymes which inculcate obedience to parents and teachers is hardly probable, and it is not difficult to picture the households or schools where such doctrines as the following were set out for infant hands to copy:-- "All youth set right at first, with Ease go on, And each new Task is with new Pleasure done, But if neglected till they grow in years And each fond Mother her dear Darling spares, Error becomes habitual and you'll find 'Tis then hard labour to reform the Mind." The foregoing is taken from the otherwise delightful sampler worked by a child with the euphonious name of Ann Maria Wiggins, in her seventh year, that is reproduced in Plate XII. Preceptors also appear to have thought it well to early impress upon pliable minds the dangers which beset a child inclined to thoughts of love:-- "Oh Mighty God that knows how inclinations lead Keep mine from straying lest my Heart should bleed. Grant that I honour and succour my parents dear Lest I should offend him who can be most severe. I implore ore me you'd have a watchful eye That I may share with you those blessings on high. And if I should by a young youth be Tempted, Grant I his schemes defy and all He has invented." _Elizabeth Bock_, 1764. Samplers were so seldom worked by grown-up folk that one can hardly believe that the following verse records an actual catastrophe to the peace of mind of Eleanor Knot:-- ON DISINGENUITY "With soothing wiles he won my easy heart He sigh'd and vow'd, but oh he feigned the smart; Sure of all friends the blackest we can find Are those ingrates who stab our peace of mind." A not uncommon and much more agreeable verse sets forth the duties of man towards woman in so far as matrimony is concerned:-- "Adam alone in Paradise did grieve And thought Eden a desert without Eve, Until God pitying his lonesome state Crown'd all his wishes with a lovely mate. Then why should men think mean, or slight her, That could not live in Paradise without her." Samplers bearing the foregoing verse are usually decorated with a picture of our first parents and the Tree of Knowledge, supported by a demon and angel. The parent or teacher sometimes spoke through the sampler, as thus, in Lucia York's, dated 1725:-- "Oh child most dear Incline thy ear And hearken to God's voice." Or again:-- "Return the kindness that you do receive As far as your ability gives leave." _Mary Lounds._ "Humility I'd recommend Good nature, too, with ease, Be generous, good, and kind to all, You'll never fail to please." _Susanna Hayes._ Samplers Expatiating upon Virtue or Vice, Wealth or Poverty, Happiness or Misery Amongst these may be noted:-- "Happy is he, the only man, Who out of choice does all he can Who business loves and others better makes By prudent industry and pains he takes. God's blessing here he'll have and man's esteem, And when he dies his works will follow him." Of those dealing with wealth or poverty none, perhaps, is more incisive than this:-- "The world's a city full of crooked streets, And Death's the market-place where all men meet; If life was merchandise that men could buy The rich would always live, the poor alone would die." An American sampler has the following from Burns's "Grace before Meat":-- "Some men have meat who cannot eat And some have none who need it. But we have meat and we can eat, And so the Lord be thanked." [Illustration: PLATE VIII.--SAMPLER BY MARY POSTLE. DATED 1747. _Mrs C. J. Longman._ An early specimen of a bordered Sampler, dated 1747, the rows being relegated to a small space in the centre, where they are altogether an insignificant feature in comparison with the border. Some of the ornament to which we have been accustomed in the rows survives, as for instance the pinks, but a new one is introduced, namely, the strawberry. Here are also the Noah's Ark animals, trees, etc., which henceforward become common objects and soon transform the face of the Sampler. The border itself is in evident imitation of the worsted flower work with which curtains, quilts, and other articles were freely adorned in the early eighteenth century.] Inscriptions having an Interest owing to their Quaintness The following dates from 1740, and has as appendix the line, "God prosper the war":-- "The sick man fasts because he cannot eat The poor man fasts because he hath no meat The miser fasts to increase his store The glutton fasts because he can eat no more The hypocrite fasts because he'd be condemned The just man fasts cause he hath offended." An American version of this ends with:-- "Praise God from whom all blessings flow We have meat enow." That self-conceit was not always considered a failing, is evident from the following verses:-- "This needlework of mine may tell That when a child I learned well And by my elders I was taught Not to spend my time for nought," which is concentrated and intensified in one of Frances Johnson, worked in 1797:-- "In reading this if any faults you see Mend them yourself and find no fault in me." In a much humbler strain is this from an old sampler in Mrs Longman's collection:-- "When I was young I little thought That wit must be so dearly bought But now experience tells me how If I must thrive, then I must bowe And bend unto another will, That I might learn both arte & skill." Owing to the portrayal of an insect, which was not infrequently met with in days gone by, upon the face of the sampler which bears the following lines, it has been suggested that they were presumably written by that creature:-- "Dear Debby I love you sincerely My heart retains a grateful sense of your past kindness When will the hours of our Separation be at an end? Preserve in your bosom the remembrance of your affectionate Deborah Jane Berkin." The following, coming about the date when the abolition of the slave trade was imminent, may have reference to it:-- "THERE'S mercy in each ray of light, that mortal eye e'er saw, There's mercy in each breath of air, that mortal lips can draw, There's mercy both for bird, and beast, in God's indulgent plan, There's mercy for each creeping thing--But man has none for man." _Elizabeth Jane Gates Aged 12 years_, 1829. Riddle samplers, such as that of Ann Witty, do not often occur:-- "I had both | | and a | | by both I set great store I lent my | Money | to my | Friend | and took his word therefor I asked my | | of my | | and nought but words I got I lost my | | and my | | for sue him, I would not." Here, too, is an "Acrostick," the first letters of whose lines spell the name of the young lady who "ended" it "Anno Dom. 1749." "A virgin that's Industrious Merits Praise, Nature she Imitates in Various Ways, Now forms the Pink, now gives the Rose its blaze. Young Buds, she folds, in tender Leaves of green, Omits no shade to beautify her Scene, Upon the Canvas, see, the Letters rise, Neatly they shine with intermingled dies, Glide into Words, and strike us with Surprize." _E. W._ As illustrations of tales the sampler of Sarah Young (Fig. 15) is an unusual example. It deals with Sir Richard Steele's story of the loves of Inkle and Yarico. Inkle, represented as a strapping big sailor, was cast away in the Spanish Main, where he met and loved Yarico, an Indian girl, but showed his baseness by selling her for a slave when he reached Barbadoes in a vessel which rescued him. The story evidently had a considerable, if fleeting, popularity, for it was dramatised. The Design, Ornament and Colouring of Samplers Whilst important clues to the age of a sampler may be gathered from its form and legend, its design and colouring are factors from which almost as much may be learnt. Design can be more easily learned from considering in detail the illustrations, which have been mainly chosen for their typifying one or other form of it, but certain general features are so usually present that they may be summarised here. No one with any knowledge of design can look through the specimens of samplers selected for this volume without noting, first, that it is, in the earlier specimens, appropriate to the subject, decorative in treatment, and lends itself to a variety of treatment with the needle. Secondly, that the decoration is not English in origin, but is usually derived from foreign sources. Indeed, if we are to believe an old writer of the Jacobean time, the designs were "Collected with much praise and industrie, From scorching Spaine and freezing Muscovie, From fertile France and pleasant Italie, From Poland, Sweden, Denmarke, Germanie, And some of these rare patternes have been set Beyond the boundes of faithlesse Mahomet, From spacious China and those Kingdomes East And from great Mexico, the Indies West. Thus are these workes farre fetch't and dearly bought, And consequently good for ladyes thought." Thirdly, that after maintaining a remarkable uniformity until the end of the seventeenth century, design falls away, and with rare exceptions continuously declines until it reaches a mediocrity to which the term can hardly be applied. [Illustration: FIG. 15.--SAMPLER BY SARAH YOUNG. ABOUT 1750. _Mrs Head._] The same features are noticeable in the colouring. The samplers of the Caroline period are in the main marked by a softness and delicacy, with a preference for tender and harmonious shades of pinks, greens, and blues, but these quickly pass out of the schemes of colouring until their revival a few years ago through the influence of Japan and the perspicuity, of Sir Lazenby Liberty. This delicacy is not, as some suppose, due to time having softened the colours, for examination shows that fading has seldom taken place, in fact one of the most remarkable traits of the earlier samplers is the wonderful condition of their colouring (see Mrs Longman's sampler of 1656, Plate IV., as an example). Towards the end of the seventeenth century the adoption of a groundwork of roughish close-textured canvas of a canary hue also militated against this ensemble of the colour scheme, which is now and again too vivid, especially in the reds, a fact which may, in part, be due to their retaining their original tint with a persistency that has not endured with the other dyes. During the early Georgian era sampler workers seem to have passed through a stage of affection for deep reds, blues, and greens, with which they worked almost all their lettering. The same colours are met with in the large embroidered curtains of the time; it is probably due to the influence of the tapestries and the Chinese embroideries then so much in vogue. In the opening years of the eighteenth century a pride in lettering gave rise to a series of samplers of little interest or artistic value, consisting, as they did, of nothing else than long sentences, not readily readable, and worked in silks in colours of every imaginable hue used indiscriminately, even in a single word, without any thought bestowed on harmony or effect of colouring. Later on, towards the middle of the century, more sober schemes of colour set in, consisting in the abandonment of reds and the employment of little else than blues, greens, yellows, and blacks (see Plate IX.), which are attractive through their quietness and unity. Subsequently but little praise can be bestowed upon samplers so far as their design is concerned. Occasionally, as in that of Mr Ruskin's ancestress (Plate X.), a result which is satisfactory, both in colour and design, is arrived at, but this is generally due to individual taste rather than to tuition or example. In this respect samplers only follow in the wake of all the other arts--furniture and silversmiths' work, perhaps, excepted, as regards both of which the taste displayed was also individual rather than national. An evil which cankered later sampler ornamentation was a desire for novelty and variety. The earliest samplers exhibit few signs of attempts at invention in design. A comparison of any number of them shows ideas repeated again and again with the slightest variation. The same floral motives are adapted in almost every instance, and one and all may well have been employed since the days when they arrived from the Far East, brought, it may be, by the Crusaders. But it is in no derogatory spirit that I call attention to this lack of originality. A craftsman is doing a worthier thing in assimilating designs which have shown their fitness by centuries of use, patterns which are examples of fine decorative ornament that really beautifies the object to which it is applied, than in inventing weak and imperfect originals. No architect is accused of plagiarism if he introduces the pointed arch, and the great designs of the past are free and out of copyright. The Greek fret, or the Persian rose, is as much the property of anyone as the daisy or the snowdrop, and it was far better to make sound decorative pieces of embroidery on the lines of these than to attempt, as was done later on, feeble originals, which have nothing ornamental or decorative in their composition. The workers of the East, when perfection was arrived at in a design, did not hesitate to reproduce it again and again for centuries. [Illustration: PLATE IX.--SAMPLER BY E. PHILIPS. DATED 1761. _Author's Collection._ Were it not that this Sampler was produced by little Miss Philips at the tender age of seven, there would be a probability that it was unique through its containing a portrait of the producer. For in no other example have we so many evidences pointing to its being a record of actual facts. For instance, there is clearly shown a gentleman pointing to his wife (in a hooped costume), and having round him his five girls of various ages, the youngest in the care of a nurse. In the upper left corner is his son in charge of a tutor, whilst on the right are two maid-servants, one being a woman of colour. This fashion for black servants is further emphasised by the negro boy with the dog. That these should be present in this family is not remarkable, for by the lower illustration it is evident that Mr Philips was a traveller who had crossed the seas in his ship to where alligators, black swans and other rare birds abounded. The work was executed in 1761, the second year of George the Third, whose monogram and crown are supported by two soldiers in the costume of the period. It has been most dexterously carried out by the young lady, and it is conceived in a delicate harmony of greens and blues which was not uncommon at that time. Size, 19 × 12-1/2. An adaptation of this Sampler has been utilised as the drop scene to the play of "Peter Pan."] But the mistress of a ladies' improving school would hardly like her pupils to copy time after time the same designs--designs which perhaps resembled those of a rival establishment. Such a one would be oblivious to the fact that an ornamentalist is born not made, that the best design is traditional, and that pupils would be far more worthily employed in perpetuating ornamentation which had been invented by races intuitively gifted for such a purpose, than in attempting feeble products of her own brain. So, too, results show that she was, as a rule, unaware that good design is better displayed in simplicity than in pretentiousness. As that authority on design, the late Lewis Day, wrote in his volume on Embroidery, "The combination of a good designer and worker in the same person is an ideal very occasionally to be met with, and any attempt to realise it generally fails." Samplers show in increasing numbers as the end approaches that their designers were ignorant of most of the elementary rules of ornamentation in needlework, such, for instance, as that the pictorial is not a suitable subject for reproduction, nor the delineation of the human figure, nor that the floral and vegetable kingdom, whilst lending itself better than aught else, should be treated from the decorative, and not the realistic point of view. We will now pass on to consider generally the forms of decoration most usually met with. Sampler Design: the Human Figure Whilst embroideries in imitation of tapestries deal almost entirely with the portrayal of the human figure, samplers of the same period, and that the best, for the most part avoid it. This is somewhat remarkable, for the design of the Renaissance, which was universally practised at the time upon which we are dwelling, was almost entirely given up to weaving it into other forms, and the volumes which treat of embroidery show how frequently it occurs in foreign pieces of needlework. The omission is a curious one, but the reason for it is, apparently, not far to seek. If we examine the earlier pieces we shall see that practically one type of figure only presents itself. Save in exceptional pieces, such as Mrs Longman's early piece (Plate IV.), where the figures are clearly copied from one of the small tapestry pieces so in vogue at that date (1656), or Mrs Millett's piece (Fig. 16), the figures which appear upon samplers are all cast in one mould, and in no way improve but rather mar the composition. This last-named drawn-work sampler is a specimen altogether apart for beauty of design and workmanship. Doubts have been expressed as to its English origin, but portions of the ornament, such as the acorn, and the Stuart S in the lowest row, are thoroughly English; besides, as we have seen, design in almost every one of the seventeenth-century samplers is infected with foreign motives. The uppermost panel is supposed to represent Abraham, Sarah, and the Angel. To the left is the tent, with the folds worked in relief, in a stitch so fine as to defy ordinary eyesight. Sarah, who holds up a hand in astonishment at the angel's announcement, has her head-dress, collar, and skirt in relief, the latter being sewn with microscopic fleurs-de-lis. The winged angel to the left of Abraham has a skirt composed of tiny scallops, which may represent feathers. A rabbit browses in front of the tent. The centre of the second row is occupied by a veiled mermaid, her tail covered with scalloped scale in relief. She holds in either hand a cup and a mask. The lettering in the two flanking panels is "S.I.D. 1649 A.I." The decorative motive of the outer panels is peapods in relief, some open and disclosing peas. Roses and tulips fill the larger square below, and these are followed by a row (reversed) of tulips and acorns. Four other rows complete the sampler, which only measures 18-1/2 × 6-3/4. In order to give it a larger size the lowest row is not reproduced. I have seen another drawn-work sampler which antedates that just described by a year. It is of somewhat coarse texture but is good in design, and bears in a panel at the side initials and the date. The Victoria and Albert Museum has also two somewhat similar drawn-work samplers--one by Elizabeth Wood, dated 1666, which contains the Stuart S's; the other (undated) has the arms of James I. [Illustration: FIG. 16.--DRAWN-WORK SAMPLER BY S. I. D. DATED 1649. _Mrs C. F. Millett._] [Illustration: FIG. 17.--SAMPLER BY JEAN PORTER. 1709-10.] A type of figure prevalent in early samplers has puzzled collectors who possess specimens containing it. It wears a close-fitting costume and has arms extended, and has received the name of a "Boxer," presumably from its attitude and costume. It and a companion are continuously depicted for nearly a century, finally disappearing about 1742, but maintaining their attitude with less variation than any other form of ornament, the only alteration being in the form of the trophy which they hold in one hand. It is this trophy, if we may use such a term, that negatives the idea of their being combatant figures, and it almost with certainty places them in the category of the Greek Erotes, the Roman Amores, or the Cupids of the Renaissance. It is difficult to give a name to the trophy in most of the samplers, and the worker was clearly often in doubt as to its structure. In some it resembles a small vase with a lid, in others a spray with branches or leaves on either side. In one of 1673 it takes the form of a four-petalled flower, and in one of 1679 that of an acorn, which is repeated in samplers of 1684, 1693, and 1694, this repetition being probably due to the acorn being a very favourite subject for design under the Stuarts. In a sampler of 1693 acorns are held in either hand. In one of 1742 (Fig. 18), the object held is a kind of candelabra. The little figures themselves preserve a singular uniformity of costume, which again points to their being the nude Erotes, clothed, to suit the times, in a tight-fitting jerkin and drawers. These are always of gayest colours. On occasions (as in a sampler dated 1693) they don a coat, and have long wigs, bringing them into line with the prevailing fashion. When these figures disappear their place is taken by those of our first parents in the Garden of Eden, the incongruity of which is well depicted in the sampler illustrated in Fig. 17. This piece of work, which took nearly a year to complete--it was begun on 14th May 1709, and finished on 6th April 1710--is unlike any other that I have seen of that period, for it antedates, by nearly half a century, the scenes from real life which afterwards became part and parcel of every sampler. Adam and Eve became quite common objects on samplers after 1760.[5] Mention need only be made here of the dressed figures which occur in samplers dated during the reign of George the Third. They are sometimes quaint (as in Plates IX. and XI.), but they hardly come into any scheme of decoration. The squareness of the stitch used in later samplers renders any imitation of painting such as was attempted altogether a failure. [Illustration: FIG. 18.--SAMPLER. NAME ILLEGIBLE. DATE 1742. _Formerly in the Author's Collection._] Sampler Design: Animals Animals in any true decorative sense hardly came into sampler ornament. Whilst the tapestry pictures teem with them, so that one wanting in a lion or stag is a rarity, in samplers, probably, the difficulty of obtaining rounded forms with the stitch used in the large grained canvas was a deterrent. The lion only being found on the Fletwood sampler of 1654 (Fig. 44) and the stag, which in tapestry pictures usurps the place of the unicorn, appears but rarely on samplers before the middle of the eighteenth century, when it came into fashion, and afterwards occurs with uninterrupted regularity so long as samplers were made. This neglect of animals is hardly to be deplored, for when they do occur they are little else than caricatures (see, for instance, those in Plate III.). Birds, which lend themselves to needlework, appear in the later samplers (Plate XI. and Fig. 18), but hardly as part of any decorative scheme. Sampler Design: Flowers With the practically insignificant exceptions which we have just noticed, the ornamentation of the sampler was confined to floral and geometrical motives, and whilst the latter were for the most part used in drawn-work samplers, the former constituted the stock whence the greater part of the decoration employed in the older examples was derived. Amongst the floral and vegetable kingdom the selection was a wide one, but a few favourites came in for recognition in almost every sampler, partly because of their decorative qualities, and partly from their being national badges. With few exceptions they were those which were to be met with in English seventeenth-century gardens, and undoubtedly, in some instances, may have been adapted by the makers from living specimens. Chief among the flowers was the rose, white and red, single and double, the emblem for centuries previously of two great parties in the State, a badge of the Tudor kings, a part of the insignia of the realm, and occupying a foremost place upon its coinage. In sampler ornamentation it is seldom used either in profile or in bud, but generally full face, and more often as a single than as a double flower. As a form of decoration it may have been derived from foreign sources, but it clearly owed its popularity to the national significance that attached to it. The decorative value of the pink or carnation has been recognised from the earliest times, and a piece of Persian ornament is hardly complete without it. It is not surprising, therefore, that the old sampler workers utilised it to the full, and in fact it appears oftener than the rose in seventeenth-century specimens. Ten of the thirteen exhibits of that century at The Fine Art Society's Exhibition in 1900 contained it as against seven where the rose was figured. It maintains this position throughout, and the most successful of the borders of bordered samplers are those where it is utilised. Specimens will be found in Plates III., IV., and VI. The decorative value of the honeysuckle was hardly appreciated, and it only appeared on samplers of the date of 1648 (Plate III.), 1662 (Plate V.), 1668, 1701, and 1711, in the Exhibition, and the undated one reproduced in Fig. 4. [Illustration: PLATE X.--SAMPLER BY CATHERINE TWEEDALL. DATED 1775. _Mrs Arthur Severn._ The Sampler is noteworthy not only on account of its harmonious colour scheme, its symmetry of parts, and the excellence of its needlework, but as having been wrought by a young lady who afterwards became Mrs Ruskin, and the grandmother of John Ruskin. Her name, Cathrine Tweedall, is worked in the lower circle, and is illegible in the otherwise admirable reproduction, owing to its being in a faded shade of the fairest pink. The verse was probably often read by her renowned grandson, and may perchance have spurred his determination to strive in the race in which he won so "high a reward." Mrs Arthur Severn, to whom the Sampler belongs, notes that the Jean Ross whose name also appears upon it was the sister of the great Arctic explorer. The date of the Sampler is 1775.] Sampler workers were very faithful to the strawberry, which, after appearing in almost every one of the seventeenth-century long samplers, was a favourite object for the later borders, and it may be seen almost unaltered in specimens separated in date by a century at least. We give in Fig. 31 a very usual version of it. (See also Plate XIII.) [Illustration: FIG. 19.--SAMPLER BY MARY ANDERSON. 1831. _Lady Sherborne._] Other fruits and flowers which now and again find a place are the fig, which will be seen in Plate III.; the pineapple, the thistle (Fig. 21), and the tulip in samplers dated 1662, 1694, 1760, and 1825 (Plate XIII.). Although the oak tree acquired political significance after the flight of Charles II., that fact can in no way account for such prominence being attached to its fruit and its foliage as, for instance, is the case in samplers dated 1644 and 1648 (Plate III.), where varieties of these are utilised in a most decorative fashion in several of the rows of ornament, or in another of the following years (Fig. 16). But, curiously enough, after appearing in almost every seventeenth-century sampler, it disappeared entirely at the commencement of the eighteenth century. Sampler Design: Crowns, Coronets, Etc. The crown seems to have been suddenly seized upon by sampler makers as a form of decoration, and for half a century it was used with a tiresome reiteration. It had, of course, been largely used in Tudor decoration, and on the restoration of the monarchy it would be given prominence. But it probably was also in vogue because it lent itself to filling up spaces caused by alphabets not completing a line, and also because it allowed of variation through the coronets used by different ranks of nobility. We have seen in the sampler, Fig. 20, that the coronet of each order was used with a letter beneath, indicating duke, earl, etc. On occasions crowns were also used with some effect as a border. It is possible that the fashion for coronets was derived from foreign samplers, where this form of decoration was frequently used about the end of the seventeenth century, doubtless owing to the abundance of ennobled personages; they may well have come over with many other fancies which followed in the train of the House of Hanover. The earliest sampler in the Exhibition before referred to which bore a crown was one of 1693; but the coronet was there placed in conjunction with the initials M. D., and might be that of a titled lady who worked it. After that it appeared in one dated 1705 (where it was clearly a royal one connected with "Her Majesti Queen Anne"), and in samplers dated 1718, 1726, 1728 (1740, in which there were at least fifty varieties), and so on almost yearly up to 1767, after which it gradually disappeared, two only out of seventy subsequent samplers containing it. These were dated 1798 and 1804. In countries where almost every family bore a rank which warranted the use of a coronet, there would be a reason for their appearance as part of what would have to be embroidered on table linen, etc. [Illustration: FIG. 20.--SAMPLER. SCOTTISH (?). 18TH CENTURY. _Formerly in the Author's Collection._ NOTE.--The bright colouring, coarse canvas, and ornate lettering of this piece suggest a Scottish origin. It dates from about 1730, and is one of the earliest of the bordered samplers, the border being at present an altogether insignificant addition. It is also one of the first specimens of decoration with crowns and coronets, the initials underneath standing for king, duke, marquis, earl, viscount, lord, count, and baron.] [Illustration: FIG. 21.--SAMPLER BY J. H. [JANE HEATH]. A.D. 1725. _Mr Ashby Sterry._] The tiny sampler with crown illustrated in Fig. 21 was one of four contributed to the Exhibition by Mr Ashby Sterry, each of them representing a generation in his family. It is unfinished, the background only having been completed in the lower half; its crown and thistle denote its Scottish origin. [Illustration: FIG. 22.--SAMPLER BY MARY BYWATER. 1751. _Formerly in the Author's Collection._] [Illustration: FIG. 23.--HEART-SHAPED SAMPLER BY MARY IVES. DATED 1796. _Miss Haldane._ NOTE.--This delightful little sampler is reproduced in its full size, and is most delicately adorned with a pink frilled ribbon edging. We do not know which of the three ladies whose names it bears worked it, or to which of them the lines, "Be unto me kind and true as I be unto you," were addressed. The date, it will be seen, is 1796, and it shows that at the end of the century there was still an affection for the little flying Cupids so usual upon eighteenth-century gravestones. We have remarked upon the absence of the cross in samplers: even here we do not find it, although we have the heart and anchor.] Sampler Design: Hearts This emblem, which one would have imagined to be a much more favourite device with impressionable little ladies than the crown, is more seldom met with. In fact, it only figured on four of the hundreds of samplers which composed the Exhibition, and in three of these cases it was in conjunction with a crown. When it is remembered how common the heart used to be as an ornament to be worn, and how it is associated with the crown in foreign religious Art, its infrequency is remarkable. The unusually designed small sampler (the reproduction being almost the size of the original), Fig. 22, dated 1751, simply worked in pale blue silk, on a fine khaki-coloured ground, has a device of crowns within a large heart. Fig. 23 shows a sampler in the form of a heart, and has, in conjunction with this symbol, anchors. It is dated 1796. The Borders to Samplers The sampler with a border was the direct and natural outcome of the sampler in "rows." A case, for instance, probably occurred, as in Fig. 24,[6] where a piece of decoration had a vacant space at its sides, and resort was at once had to a portion of a row, in this case actually the top one. From this it would follow as a matter of course that the advantage, from a decorative point of view, of an ornamental framework was seen and promptly followed. The earliest border I have seen is that reproduced in Fig. 25, from a sampler dated 1726, but it is certain that many must exist between that date and 1700, the date upon the sampler in Fig. 24 just referred to. The 1726 border consists of a pattern of trefoils, worked in alternating red and yellow silks, connected by a running stem of a stiff angular character; the device being somewhat akin to the earlier semi-border in Fig. 24. [Illustration: FIG. 24.--DRAWN-WORK SAMPLER BY S. W. A.D. 1700. _Mrs C. J. Longman._] It is astonishing with what persistency the samplerists followed the designs which they had had handed to them in the "row" samplers, confining their attentions to a few favourites, and repeating them again and again for a hundred and fifty years, and losing, naturally, with each repetition somewhat of the feeling of the original. We give a few examples which show this persistency of certain ideas. [Illustration: FIG. 25.--BORDER OF MARY LOUNDS'S SAMPLER. A.D. 1726.] [Illustration: FIG. 26.--BORDER OF MARY HEAVISIDE'S SAMPLER. A.D. 1735.] [Illustration: FIG. 27.--BORDER OF ELIZABETH GREENSMITH'S SAMPLER. AGED 10. JULY YE 26, 1737.] The border in Fig. 26 is dated 1735, and presents but little advance from a decorative point of view. It is the production of Mary Heaviside, and is upon an Easter sampler, which bears, besides the verse to the Holy Feast of Easter, the Lord's Prayer and the Belief. The border may possibly typify the Cross and the Tree of Life. Elizabeth Greensmith's sampler (Fig. 27), worked two years later, in 1737, is more pretentious in form, the body of the work being taken up with a spreading tree, beneath which repose a lion and a leopard. The border consists of an ill-composed and ill-drawn design of yellow tulips, blue-bells, and red roses. The stem, which runs through this and almost every subsequent design, is here very feebly arranged; it is, however, only fair to say that the work is that of a girl in her tenth year. [Illustration: FIG. 28.--BORDER OF MARGARET KNOWLES'S SAMPLER. AGED 9. A.D. 1738.] Margaret Knowles's sampler (Fig. 28), made in the next year--A.D. 1738--is the earliest example I know of the use on a border of that universal favourite the pink, which is oftentimes hardly distinguishable from the corn blue-bottle. In the present instance it is, however, flattened almost out of recognition, whilst the design is spoilt by the colossal proportions of the connecting stem. In the second row of the sampler, Fig. 24, it is seen in a much simpler form, and it will also be found in Plate VI. [Illustration: FIG. 29.--BORDER TO SAMPLER BY ELIZABETH TURNER. A.D. 1771.] [Illustration: PLATE XI.--SAMPLER BY ANN CHAPMAN. DATED 1779. _Mrs C. J. Longman._ Incongruity between the ornament and the lettering of a Sampler could hardly be carried to a more ludicrous extreme than in Ann Chapman's, which is here reproduced in colour. The two points of Agur's prayer, which fills the panel, are that before he dies vanity shall be removed far from him, and that he shall have neither poverty nor riches. Yet as surroundings and supporters to this appeal we have two figures posing as mock shepherd and shepherdess, and decked out in all the vanities of the time. Agur's prayer was apparently often selected, for we see it again in the Sampler of Emily Jane Brontë (Fig. 10), but there it has the quietest of ornament to surround it, and it is worked in black silk; whereas in the present case there is no Sampler in the collection where the whole sheaf of colours has been more drawn upon.] The remaining illustrations of borders are selected as being those where the design is well carried out, and as showing how the types continue. The first (Fig. 29), worked by Elizabeth Turner in 1771, represents a conventional rose in two aspects; the second, by Sarah Carr (Fig. 30), in 1809, is founded on the honeysuckle; whilst the third (Fig. 31) is a delightfully simple one of wild strawberries that is frequently found in samplers from the earliest (in Plate II.) onwards. In that from which this example is taken, worked by Susanna Hayes in 1813, it is most effective with its pink fruit and green stalks and band. It will be noticed that it even crossed the Atlantic, for it reappears in Mr Pennell's American sampler, Plate XIII. [Illustration: FIG. 30.--BORDER TO SAMPLER BY SARAH CARR. A.D. 1809.] [Illustration: FIG. 31.--BORDER TO SAMPLER BY SUSANNA HAYES. A.D. 1813.] How even the border degenerated as the nineteenth century advanced may be seen in the monotonous Greek fret used in the three samplers of the Brontës (Figs. 10, 11, 12), and in that of Mary Anderson (Fig. 19). Miscellanea respecting Samplers Under this heading we group what remains to be said concerning samplers, namely:-- The Age and Sex of Sampler Workers In modern times samplers have been almost universally the product of children's hands; but the earliest ones exhibit so much more proficiency that it would seem to have been hardly possible that they could have been worked by those who were not yet in their teens. This supposition is in a way supported by an examination of samplers. Of those prior to the year 1700, I have seen but one in which the age of the maker is mentioned. It reads thus, "Mary Hall is my name and when I was thirteen years of age I ended this in 1662." On the other hand, the rhyme which we quoted at page 50, attached to one in Mrs Longman's possession, which, although undated, is certainly of the seventeenth century, points to it being the work of a grown-up and possibly a married lady. It is not until we reach the year 1704 that I have found a sampler (Fig. 32) which was the product of a child under ten, namely, that bearing the inscription "Martha Haynes ended her sampler in the 9th year of her age, 1704." This is quickly followed by one by "Anne Michel, the daughter of John and Sarah Michel ended Nov. the 21 being 11 years of age and in the 3 year of Her Majesti Queen Anne and in the year of ovr Lord 1705." 1740 is the next date upon one worked by Mary Gardner, aged 9 (page 27). [Illustration: FIG. 32.--SMALL SAMPLER BY MARTHA HAYNES. DATED 1704. _Late in the Author's Collection._] From 1750 onwards the majority of samplers are endorsed with the age of the child, and the main interest in the endorsements lies in the remarkable proficiency which many of them exhibit, considering the youth of the worker, and in the tender age at which they were wrought. Almost one half of the tiny workers have not reached the space when their years are marked with two figures, and we even have one mite of six producing the piece of needlework reproduced in Fig. 33, and talking of herself as in her prime in the verse set out upon it. [Illustration: FIG. 33.--SAMPLER BY SARAH PELHAM, AGED 6.] But perhaps the most remarkable achievement is the "goldfinch" sampler illustrated in Plate XII., which was worked by Ann Maria Wiggins at the age of seven. It is not unreasonable to suppose that samplers were on occasions worked by children of both sexes. One's own recollection carries back to canvas and Berlin wool-work having been one way of passing the tedious hours of a wet day. But specimens where the Christian name of a male appears are few and far between, and more often than not they are worked in conjunction with others, which would seem to indicate that they are only there as part and parcel of a list (which is not unusual) of the family. In the sampler illustrated in Fig. 34 the boy's name, Robert Henderson, is in black silk, differing from any of the rest of the lettering, which is perhaps testimony to his having produced it. This sampler shows the perpetuation until 1762 of the form in which rows are the predominant feature. A sampler, formerly in the author's collection, was more clearly that of a boy, being signed Lindsay Duncan, Cuper [_sic_], 1788. Another Scottish one bears the name or names Alex. Peter Isobel Dunbar, whilst a third of the same kind is signed "Mathew was born on April 16, 1764, and sewed this in August, 1774." The Size of Samplers The ravages of time and the little value attached to them have probably reduced to very small numbers the tiny samplers such as those which are seen in Figs. 35 and 36, and which must have usually been very infantine efforts. Those illustrated, however, show the progress made by two sisters, Mary and Lydia Johnson, in two years. Presumably Lydia was the elder, and worked the sampler which bears her name and the date 1784. This was copied by her sister Mary in the following year, but in a manner which showed her to be but a tyro with the needle; nor much advanced in stitchery in the following year, in which she attempted the larger sampler which bears her name. Lydia, on the other hand, in the undated sampler, but which was probably made in the year 1786, showed progress in everything except the power of adapting the well-known design of a pink to the small sampler on which she was engaged, as to which she clearly could not manage the joining of the pattern at the corners. The originals of these samplers measure from four to six inches in their largest dimensions. [Illustration: FIG. 34.--SCOTTISH SAMPLER BY ROBERT HENDERSON. DATED 1762.] [Illustration: FIG. 35.--SMALL SAMPLERS BY MARY JOHNSON. 1785-6. _Author's Collection._] [Illustration: FIG. 36.--SMALL SAMPLERS BY LYDIA JOHNSON. 1784. _Author's Collection._] The Place of Origin of Samplers Collectors, in discussing samplers among themselves, have wondered whether it would be possible to assign differences in construction and material to their having been produced in localities where the characteristic forms and patterns had not permeated. But those specimens which the author has examined, and which by a superscription gave a clue as to their place of origin, certainly afford insufficient foundation for such assumptions. In the first place, samplers so marked are certainly not sufficiently numerous to warrant any opinion being formed on the subject, and, as to those not so marked, the places where they have been found cannot be taken into account as being their birthplaces, as families to whom they have for long belonged may naturally have removed from quite different parts of the kingdom since the samplers were made. It is surprising how seldom the workers of samplers deemed it necessary to place upon them the name of the district which they inhabited. There are few who followed the example of the girl who describes herself on a sampler dated 1766, thus:-- "Ann Stanfer is my name And England is my nation Blackwall is my dwelling place And Christ is my salvation." [Illustration: FIG. 37.--SCOTTISH SAMPLER BY MARY BAYLAND. 1779.] The only names of places in England recorded on samplers in The Fine Art Society's Exhibition were Chipping Norton, Sudbury, Hawkchurch, and Tottenham, and certain orphan schools or hospitals, such as Cheltenham and Ashby. Curiously enough, the Scottish lassies were more particular in adding their dwelling-place, thus, in the sampler reproduced in Fig. 37, and which is interesting as a survival as late as 1779 of a long sampler, Mary Bayland gives her residence as Perth, and others have been noted at Cupar, Dunbar, and elsewhere in Scotland. It might be expected that these Scottish ones would differ materially from those made far away in the southern parts of the kingdom, but whilst those in Figs. 32 and 34 have a certain resemblance and difference from others in the decoration of their lettering, that in Fig. 36 might well have been worked in England, showing that there were no local peculiarities such as we might expect. It will be seen that two of the American samplers figured here have their localities indicated, namely Miss Damon's school at Boston (Fig. 50) and Brooklyn (Fig. 47). Samplers as Records of National Events [Illustration: FIG. 38.--SAMPLER BY MARY MINSHULL. DATED JUNE 29, 1694.] A largely added interest might have been given to samplers had a fashion arisen of lettering them with some historical occurrence which was then stirring the locality, but unfortunately their makers very rarely rose to so much originality. Three rare instances were to be seen in The Fine Art Society's Exhibition. These, curiously enough, came together from different parts of the country--one from Nottingham, a second from Hockwold, Norfolk, and the third from the author's collection in London--but they were worked by two persons only, one by Mary Minshull, and two by Martha Wright. They are all unusual in their form of decoration (as will be seen by that illustrated in Fig. 38), and were practically similar in design, colour, and execution, each having a set of single pinks worked in high relief in the centre of the sampler. Their presence together was certainly a testimony to the all-embracing character of the Exhibition. The inscriptions upon them were as follows:-- (1) "The Prince of Orang landed in the West of England on the 5th of November 1688, and on the 11th April 1689 was crowned King of England, and in the year 1692 the French came to invade England, and a fleet of ships sent by King William drove them from the English seas, and took, sunk, and burned twenty-one of their ships."--Signed "_Martha Wright, March 26th, 1693_." (2) "There was an earthquake on the 8th September 1692 in the City of London, but no hurt tho it caused most part of England to tremble."--Signed "_Mary Minshull_." [Illustration: PLATE XII.--SAMPLER BY ANN MARIA WIGGINS. 19TH CENTURY. _Mrs C. J. Longman._ This "Goldfinch" Sampler was one of the most elaborate Samplers in the Bond Street Exhibition, and is really a wonderful production for a child of seven years of age. It was probably made early in the nineteenth century.] The third was a combination of the two inscriptions. Nothing of a similar character in work of the eighteenth century has come under my notice, but the Peace of 1802 produced the following lines on a sampler:-- "Past is the storm and o'er the azure sky serenely shines the sun With every breeze the waving branches nod their kind assent." ON PEACE "Hail England's favor'd Monarch: round thy head Shall Freedom's hand Perennial laurels spread. Fenc'd by whose sacred leaves the royal brow Mock'd the vain lightnings aim'd by Gallic foe Alike in arts and arms illustrious found Proudly Britannia sits with laurel crown'd Invasion haunts her rescued Plains no more And hostile inroads flies her dangerous shore Where'er her armies march her ensigns Play Fame points the course and glory leads the way. * * * * * O Britain with the gifts of Peace thou'rt blest May thou hereafter have Perpetual rest And may the blessing still with you remain Nor cruel war disturb our land again. "The Definitive Treaty of Peace was signed March 27{th} 1802 proclaimed in London April the 29{th} 1802--Thanksgiving June the 1st 1802. _Mary Ann Crouzet Dec{br} 17 1802._" Later samplers gave expression to the universal sympathy elicited by the death of Queen Charlotte. Map Samplers Needlework maps may very properly be classed under the head of samplers, for they originated in exactly the same way, namely, as specimens of schoolgirl proficiency, which when taken home were very lasting memorials of the excellence of that teaching termed "the use of the globes." Maps were only the product of the latter half of the eighteenth century; at least, none that I have seen go back beyond that time, the earliest being dated 1777. Their interest for the most part is no more than that of a map of a contemporary date; for instance, the North America reproduced in Fig. 39 has nothing whatever in the way of needlework to recommend it, but it shows what any map would, namely, how little was known at that date of the Western States or Canada. A map of Europe in the Exhibition, dated 1809, was a marvellous specimen of patient proficiency in lettering, every place of note being wonderfully and minutely sewn in silk. The executant was Fanny le Gay, of Rouen. [Illustration: FIG. 39.--MAP OF NORTH AMERICA BY M.A.K. 1738.] [Illustration: FIG. 40.--MAP OF ENGLAND AND WALES BY ANN BROWN.] A map printed on satin or other material was sometimes worked over, not always as regards all the lettering, but as to the markings of the degrees of latitude and longitude,[7] and some of the principal names. These have naturally less interest and value as specimens of needlework than those which are entirely hand worked, although for the purposes of geographical reference they were at all events reliable, which is more than can be said for some of the original efforts; as, for instance, that of little Ann Brown, whose map of England and Wales is reproduced (Fig. 40). Starting bravely, her delineation of Northumberland takes her well down the canvas, so that by the time she has reached Newcastle she has carried it abreast of Dumfries in Scotland, and Cork in Ireland! Yorkshire is so expansive that it grows downward beyond Exeter and Lundy Island, which last-named places have, however, by some mishap, crept up to the northward of Manchester and Leeds. It is a puzzle to think where the little lassie lived who could consort London with Wainfleet, the River Thames with the Isle of Wight, Lichfield with Portland, or join France to England. Although one would imagine that the dwelling-place of the sempstress would usually be made notable in the map either by large lettering or by more florid colouring, we have not found this to be the case. [Illustration: FIG. 41.--MAP OF AFRICA. DATED 1784.] The map of Africa (Fig 41), which is surrounded by a delightful border of spangles, and which seems to have been used as a fire-screen, is interesting now that so much more is known of the continent, for many of the descriptions have undergone considerable change, such as the Grain Coast, Tooth Coast, and Slave Coast, which border on the Gulf of Guinea. The sampler is also noteworthy as having been done at Mrs Arnold's, which was presumably a school in Fetherstone Buildings, High Holborn, hardly the place where one would expect to find a ladies' seminary nowadays. American Samplers Tapestry pictures have such a Royalist air about them that it is hardly probable that they found favour with the Puritan damsels of the Stuart reigns, and, consequently, it may be doubted whether the fashion for making them crossed the Atlantic to the New World with the Pilgrim Fathers, or those who followed in their train. Samplers, on the other hand, with their moralities and their seriousness, would seem to be quite akin to the old-fashioned homes of the New Englanders, and doubtless there must be many specimens hanging in the houses of New England and elsewhere which were produced from designs brought from the Old Country, but over which a breath of native art has passed which imparts to them a distinctive interest and value. Three notable ones, we know, crossed the Atlantic with the early settlers. One, that of Anne Gower (spelled Gover on the sampler), first wife of Governor Endicott (Fig. 42), is now a cherished possession of the Essex Institute, Salem, Massachusetts. As Governor Endicott's wife arrived at Salem in 1628, and died the following year, we have in her sampler the earliest authentic one on record. The inscription of very well-designed and elaborately-worked letters, difficult to distinguish in the photograph, is:-- ANNE [Diamond] GOVER S T V W X Y Z J K L M N O P Q R A a B C d E F G H [Illustration: FIG. 42.--DRAWN-WORK SAMPLER BY ANNE GOVER, FIRST WIFE OF GOVR. J. ENDICOTT.] [Illustration: FIG. 43.--SAMPLER OF LOARA STANDISH, DAUGHTER OF THE PILGRIM FATHER, MILES STANDISH, NOW IN PILGRIM HALL, PLYMOUTH, U.S.A.] [Illustration: FIG. 44.--SAMPLER BEARING NAMES OF MILES AND ABIGAIL FLEETWOOD. DATED 1654. _Property of Mrs Frank Boxer._] [Illustration: FIG. 45.--SAMPLER BY ABIGAIL RIDGWAY. 1795. _Mr A. D. Drake's Collection._] [Illustration: PLATE XIII.--AMERICAN SAMPLER BY MARTHA C. BARTON. DATED 1825. _Mr Joseph Pennell._ Mr Joseph Pennell's Sampler, which finds a place here as a specimen of American work, has little to distinguish it from its fellows that were produced in England in the reign of George IV. The border, it is true, only preserves its uniformity on two of the four sides, but where it does it is designed on an old English pattern, that of the wild strawberry. So, too, we find the ubiquitous stag and coach dogs, Noahs, ash trees, birds, and flower baskets.] The sampler itself is a beautiful specimen of drawn work, and the lettering is the same colour as the linen. If, as must probably be the case, it was worked by her as a child, it was made in England, and its date may be the end of the first decade of the seventeenth century. The second, by Lora Standish, is now in the Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth (Fig. 43). Lora was the daughter of Miles Standish, the Pilgrim Father, who went to Boston in February 1621, and it bears the inscription:-- "Loara Standish is My Name Lord Guide My Heart that I may do Thy Will And fill my hands with such convenient Skill As will conduce to Virtue void of Shame And I will give the Glory to Thy Name." [Illustration: FIG. 46.--SAMPLER BY ELIZABETH EASTON. 1795. _Mr A. W. Drake's Collection._] The earliest dated sampler in America of which I have cognisance, and one which may have been worked in that country, is that bearing the names of Miles and Abigail Fletwood (Fleetwood?) (Fig. 44). It is dated 1654, and has been owned by the descendants of Mrs Henry Quincy since 1750, and is now in the possession of Mrs Frank Boxer of Cambridge, Massachusetts, who has kindly furnished me with particulars concerning it. It bears the following inscription:-- "In prosperity friends will be plenty, But in adversity not one in twenty," which, it is thought, may possibly have reference to the reverses of Miles Fletwood and his relationship to Cromwell. It is somewhat remarkable for a sampler to bear the names of husband and wife for it necessarily presupposes its having been worked after marriage. [Illustration: FIG. 47.--SAMPLER BY MARIA E. SPALDING. 1815. _Dr J. W. Walker's Collection._] [Illustration: FIG. 48.--SAMPLER BY MARTHA C. HOOTON. 1827. _Mr A. W. Drake's Collection._] If one may judge from the photographs which collectors in America have sent me, and for which I have to thank Dr James W. Walker of Chicago and Mr A. W. Drake of New York, and those noted in an article on the subject in the _Century Magazine_,[8] specimens between the period just named, that is the middle of the seventeenth century and the end of the eighteenth century, are rare. We have but two such figured, each dated 1795, and, as will be seen by the illustrations (Figs. 45 and 46), they are entirely British in character. I am glad, however, to add several interesting specimens of later date from the collections of these gentlemen. Unfortunately, not having the originals, I can only give them in monochrome. Plate XIII., however, represents in colour an American sampler. It belongs to Mr Pennell, the well-known artist and author, and was worked by an ancestress, Martha C. Barton, in 1825. From Mrs Longman's collection I also give (Fig. 51) one, worked in silk on a curious loose canvas, which was obtained by her in Massachusetts, and has the following inscription:-- "Persevere. Be not weary in well doing. Youth in society are like flowers Blown in their native bed, 'tis there alone Their faculties expand in full bloom Shine out, there only reach their proper use. "Wrought by Lydia J. Cotton. Aged 9 years. August 27. 1819. Love learning and improve." Foreign Samplers It has been my endeavour in this volume to confine the survey of samplers and embroideries entirely to the production of the English-speaking race, in part because other authors have drawn almost all their material from foreign sources, and the subject is sufficiently ample and interesting without having recourse to them, and also because the collections containing foreign samplers or embroideries are very few, and although they, perhaps, surpass the efforts of our own countrywomen in the variety of their stitches and the proficiency with which they are executed, they take a less important place where interest of subject is the main recommendation. [Illustration: FIG.--49. AMERICAN SAMPLER OF THE LAMBORN FAMILY. 1827. _Mr A. W. Drake's Collection._] [Illustration: FIG. 50.--AMERICAN SAMPLER BY ELIZABETH M. FORD. _Dr Jas. W. Walker's Collection._] [Illustration: FIG. 51.--AMERICAN SAMPLER BY LYDIA J. COTTON. DATED 1819. _Mrs C. J. Longman._] Nevertheless as the acquisition of them may add an interest to those who never fail on their travels to inspect the contents of every curiosity shop they come across, the following description of them which Mrs C. J. Longman, who possesses a most important collection, has been good enough to furnish, may not be out of place. "My collection of foreign samplers includes specimens from the following countries: Germany, Holland, Belgium, Denmark, Sweden, France, Switzerland, Italy, Spain, and Portugal, but by far the largest number of my foreign samplers come from Germany, and, next to English ones, the German seem more easy to obtain than those of any other country. In Spain and Portugal there are also a fair number in the market. "The dated samplers abroad seem to begin at about the same period as in England, namely, the middle of the seventeenth century. The earliest specimens that I possess from these several countries are as follows: Germany, 1674; Switzerland, 1675; Italy, seventeenth century (undated); Spain, early eighteenth century (undated); Belgium, 1724; Holland, 1726; Denmark, 1742; France, 1745; Portugal, early nineteenth century (undated). "There are a few marked characteristics which seem to belong to the different countries, which it is interesting to note. "In the German samplers, the initials of the worker and the date are almost always given, enclosed together, in a little garland or frame; but I have never seen the name signed in full. I have only once seen a German sampler with an inscription on it; in that case 'Fur uns geoffert' is worked above a representation of the Crucifixion. "The seventeenth-century German samplers are rather small, and much squarer in shape than English ones of the same date. With the eighteenth century long, narrow ones came in, a quite common size being 44 in. long, by about 10 in. broad, the usual width of the linen; the selvage is left at the top and bottom. "There is seldom much arrangement in the earlier German samplers. They usually have one alphabet, and various conventional flowers, birds, and other designs scattered over them. "With the long shape of sampler a more methodical arrangement came in. A typical one is as follows: Lines of alphabets and numerals across the top, some large subjects in the centre, and designs for borders arranged in lines across the bottom. "The central subjects very often include a representation of the Crucifixion and emblems of the Passion, namely, the crown of thorns, scourge, ladder, nails, hammer, tweezers, sponge, hour-glass, dice, cock. Adam and Eve under the Tree of Knowledge is another favourite subject, and animals such as lions, deer, or parrots frequently occur. One does not often find houses or domestic scenes. One sampler, dated 1771, has a christening depicted on it, which I imagine to be very unusual. "The borders are very various. In them trefoils, grapes, conventional pinks, roses, pears, and lilies and occasionally deer and birds are worked in; but I have never seen the 'Boxers' or other figures that one finds in the English borders, and I have only one specimen with acorns. "The earliest German samplers seem to be worked entirely in cross-stitch, beautifully fine, and the same on both sides of the material; the back-stitching so often found on early English ones I have never seen. In the eighteenth century other stitches were sometimes used, and I have one German sampler, dated 1719, which is almost entirely worked in knots. On others some elaborate stitches are shown, which are mostly worked in square patches, and are not made use of for improving the design of the samplers. "The earliest examples of darned samplers that I have seen come from Germany, and I think that one may give the Germans the credit of inventing them; for, whereas, in England they do not appear much before the end of the eighteenth century, I have a German one dated 1725, and several others from the middle of the same century. The darns on these samplers show every kind of ordinary and damask darning, the material being usually cut away from underneath and the hole entirely filled in. I have never seen German darning worked into designs of flowers, birds and so on, as we see on English darned samplers. "As in all countries, the colours of the earlier German samplers are the best, but they are in no case striking. "Dutch samplers seem quite distinct in character from German ones. All those that I have seen are broader than they are long, and they are worked across the material, the selvage coming at the sides, instead of at the top and bottom. They are usually dated, and signed with initials. One of their main characteristics is to have elaborate alphabets worked in two or more colours. The second colour is very often worked round an ordinary letter as a sort of frame or outer edge, and gives it a clumsy, rather grotesque appearance. The Dutch samplers might, as a rule, be described as patchy. Without any obvious arrangement they have houses, ships, people, animals, etc., scattered over them. The stitch used is mainly cross-stitch; but back-stitch, an open kind of satin-stitch, and bird's-eye-stitch are also often seen. "Belgian samplers, as far as I have seen, approach more nearly to the German in style. I have one, however, dated 1798, which is quite distinct in character. It is 64 in. in length, with a large, bold alphabet of letters over 2 in. long worked on it, such as might be used for marking blankets. "I have only three specimens of Danish samplers, but they are all remarkable for the great variety of stitches introduced. I have a Danish sampler, and also a Swedish one of about 1800 worked on fine white muslin, both giving patterns of stitches for the 'Töndu' muslin drawn work. These patterns imitate both needlepoint and pillow laces, threads are drawn out one way of the material, the remaining ones being drawn together with a great variety of stitches, so as to follow the intricacies of lace patterns. This work was much used for adorning elbow ruffles, fichues, etc., and it is very like some Indian muslin work, though the stitches are slightly different. "French samplers, as far as I have seen, are also remarkable for the fineness of the stitches. They are usually dated and signed in full, and often have inscriptions worked on them. One large French map of Europe in my collection has 414 names worked on it in fine cross-stitch, many of them being worked on a single thread of material, which is a fine muslin. "Swiss samplers show fine work, but a great lack of effect. One dated 1675 has several borders on it, worked in the back-stitch so much used in England at that date. "From Italy I have no important coloured samplers, but several point-coupé ones. They are undated but belong to the seventeenth century. These samplers show a beauty of design which is rather in contrast to that of English ones of the same kind and date, there being a grace and meaning about the Italian patterns that one seldom finds in English specimens of drawn work, fine as these are. A typical coloured Italian sampler of about 1800 is as follows: The sampler is nearly square, and is divided into three parts. In the upper division a Latin cross is worked at the side, and the rest of the space is filled with two alphabets, numerals, and the name of the worker, but no date. In the second division a cross is worked, and fourteen emblems of the Passion. In the third division are various trees, figures, animals, etc., some local colour being given by an orange and a lemon tree in pots. "Spain is well represented in my collection. For beauty of colouring and designs I think that it stands far ahead of any other country. Spanish samplers are generally large; they are sometimes square, sometimes long in shape. They are as a rule entirely covered with border patterns, which in the square shape are worked along the four sides parallel to the edge; and which in the long shape runs in lines across the sampler, with a break in the middle, where the border changes to another pattern, thus giving the impression that the sampler is joined up the centre. The patterns of the borders vary a great deal; I have counted thirty different ones on one sampler. They are mostly geometric, and not based on any natural objects, but the designs are so skilfully handled and elaborately worked out as to take away any appearance of stiffness; and in them the prim acorn, bird, or trefoil of the English and German border patterns are never seen. I have one Spanish sampler, dated 1738, of a quite different type to all my others. It is divided into three panels. The top panel is filled with floral designs, the centre with a gorgeous coat of arms, and the lower panel contains a representation of St George and the Dragon. "The colours used in Spanish samplers are very striking, and their blending in the different borders is very happy and effective. Most of the early specimens are worked almost entirely in satin-stitch, although cross-stitch and back-stitch are also sometimes introduced. The samplers are usually hem-stitched round the edge, and occasionally contain some drawn work. I have one early specimen in which the drawn part is worked over in coloured silks. "The Spanish samplers that I have seen seldom have the alphabet worked on them, and are rarely dated. On the other hand, they often have the name of the worker signed in full. "Portugal is only represented in my collection by samplers worked in the nineteenth century; it is therefore hardly fair to compare these specimens with the earlier ones of other countries, for everywhere samplers began to deteriorate in that century. The Portuguese samplers that I possess are eminently commonplace and can well be described as 'Early Victorian.' "It must be remembered that my remarks on foreign samplers are based on specimens belonging to the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. With few exceptions I have not tried to collect modern ones, which approximate much more to each other in the different countries. "Looking back over this brief survey, and comparing foreign samplers with English, one or two differences at once stand out. The foreign samplers are seldom worked in a pictorial form. They hardly ever, except in France, have verses or texts worked on them. The age of the worker is never given. This is much to be regretted, as in these three things lies much of the personal interest of the English sampler. "On the other hand, from a practical point of view, if one goes to one's samplers as to pattern-books for good stitches, designs and effects of colour, England no longer takes the first place, and one would turn for these to the samplers of Germany, Scandinavia, Spain, and Italy." Indian Samplers Many of the Anglo-Indian mothers who reared and brought up families in the East Indies in the days when the young ones had to pass all their youth in that country, regardless of climatic stress, must have trained their girls in the cult of sampler-making, and the same schooling went on in the seminaries at Calcutta and elsewhere, as we have seen in the specimen illustrated in Fig. 2. I am able to give another illustration (Fig. 52), which is not otherwise remarkable except for the fact that it was worked by a child at Kirkee, and shows how insensibly the European ornament becomes orientalised as it passes under Eastern influence. It is the only sampler in which there is any use made of plain spaces, and even here it is probably only accidental. [Illustration: FIG. 52.--SAMPLER BY HELEN PRICE. MADE AT KIRKEE, EAST INDIES. DATED 18--. _Late in the Author's Collection._] Sampler Literature Although, undoubtedly, much of the ornament upon samplers consists of designs that have been handed down from generation to generation by means of the articles themselves, pattern-books have not been altogether lacking even from early days. They have not, however, rivalled either in quantity or quality those which treat of the sister Art of lace-making, for, so far as is known, early English treatises on the subject are limited to some half a dozen, and these occupy themselves as much with lacework as with embroidery. The first English book that is known is in reality a foreign one; it is entitled, "New and Singular Patternes and Workes of Linnen Serving for Patternes to make all sorts of Lace Edginges and Cut Workes. Newly invented for the profite and contentment of Ladies, Gentilwomen and others that are desireous of this Art. By Vincentio. Printed by John Wolfe 1591." We have not been able to find a copy, and therefore can do no more than chronicle its existence. A volume upon which needleworkers of the seventeenth century must have relied much more largely for their ideas was published in its early years under the title of "The Needle's Excellency. A New Booke wherein are divers admirable workes wrought with the needle. Newly invented and cut in copper for the pleasure and profit of the industrious. Printed for James Boler, and are to be sold at the Syne of the Marigold in Paules Churchyard." This treatise went to twelve editions at least, but, nevertheless, is very rare. The twelfth, "enlarged with divers newe workes, needleworkes, purles, and others never before printed. 1640," is to be found in the British Museum Library, but even that copy has suffered considerably from usage, for many plates are missing, and few are in consecutive order. The title-page consists of an elaborate copper plate, in which are to be seen Wisdom, Industrie, and Follie; Industrie, seated in the middle under a tree with a formal garden behind her, is showing Follie, who is decked out in gorgeous Elizabethan costume, her work, and Follie is lifting her hands in astonishment at it. Following the title-page comes a lengthy poem by Taylor, the Water Poet, upon the subject of needlework. So far as one can judge from the samplers of the period, the designs for needlework in the book, which consist of formal borders, have been very seldom copied, but some for drawn work undoubtedly have a close resemblance to those which we see in existing pieces. Another book, which I have been unable to find in the Museum, is described as "Patternes of Cut Workes newly invented and never published before: Also Sundry Sorts of Spots, as Flowers, Birdes, and Fishes, etc., which will fitly serve to be wrought, some with gould, some with silke, and some with creuell in coullers; or otherwise, at your pleasure." From "The Needle's Excellency" we have many clues as to needlework in the early seventeenth century. First of all, as to the articles for which samplers would be required, the following are mentioned: "handkerchiefs, table cloathes for parloures or for halls, sheetes, towels, napkins, pillow beares." Then as to the objects which were delineated on embroideries, it states that:-- "In clothes of Arras I have often seene Men's figured counterfeits so like have beene That if the parties selfe had been in place Yet Art would vie with nature for the grace." Again, "Flowers, Plants and Fishes, Beasts, Birds, Flyes and Bees, Hills, Dales, Plains, Pastures, Skies, Seas, Rivers, Trees, There's nothing ne'er at hand or farthest sought But with the needle may be shap'd and wrought." It would seem from the foregoing that the volumes would be of more profit to the worker of embroidered pictures than to sampler-makers, and this was no doubt the case; for when the former went out of fashion, the books dealing with the subject disappeared too, and nothing further of any note was published, except in the beginning of the last century, when the National Schools were furnished with manuals which dealt more with plain sewing than with decorative needlework. The Last of the Samplers I can hardly close my remarks upon the entertaining subject, the elucidation of and material for which has filled many spare hours, without a word of regret at having to pen the elegy of the sampler. It may be said that even so long ago as the era of the _Spectator_ there were those who sounded its death knell, and who considered that the days when a lady crowded a thousand graces on to the surface of a garter were gone for ever. For did it not go to the heart of one of Mr Spectator's correspondents to see a couple of idle flirts sipping their tea for a whole afternoon, in a room hung round with the industry of their great-grandmothers, and did he not implore that potentate to take the laudable mystery of embroidery into his serious consideration? But even then there were matrons who upheld the craft, and of whom an epitaph could be written that "she wrought the whole Bible in tapestry, and died in a good old age after having covered three hundred yards of wall in the Mansion House." Besides, the samplers themselves show that the industry, if not the Art, continued all through that century and for at least half of the nineteenth. The decadence of the sampler has never been more tenderly or pathetically dealt with than in the description given of the dame's school in the sketch entitled "Lucy," in Miss Mitford's "Our Village."[9] ... There are seven girls now in the school working samplers to be framed. "Such a waste of silk, and time, and trouble!" I said to Mrs Smith, and Mrs Smith said to me. Then she recounted the whole battle of the samplers, and her defeat; and then she sent for one which, in spite of her declaration that her girls never finished anything, was quite completed (probably with a good deal of her assistance), and of which, notwithstanding her rational objection to its uselessness, Lucy was not a little proud. She held it up with great delight, pointed out all the beauties, selected her own favourite parts, especially a certain square rosebud, and the landscape at the bottom; and finally pinned it against the wall, to show the effect that it would have when framed. Really, that sampler was a superb thing in its way. First came a plain pink border; then a green border, zig-zag; then a crimson, wavy; then a brown, of a different and more complicated zig-zag; then the alphabet, great and small, in every colour of the rainbow, followed by a row of figures, flanked on one side by a flower, name unknown, tulip, poppy, lily--something orange or scarlet, or orange-scarlet; on the other by the famous rosebud, then divers sentences, religious and moral;--Lucy was quite provoked with me for not being able to read them; I daresay she thought in her heart that I was as stupid as any of her scholars; but never was MS. so illegible, not even my own, as the print-work of that sampler;--then last and finest, the landscape, in all its glory. It occupied the whole narrow line at the bottom, and was composed with great regularity. In the centre was a house of a bright scarlet, with yellow windows, a green door, and a blue roof: on one side, a man with a dog; on the other, a woman with a cat--this is Lucy's information; I should never have guessed that there was any difference, except in colour, between the man and the woman, the dog and the cat; they were in form, height, and size, alike to a thread, the man grey, the woman pink, his attendant white, and hers black. Next to these figures, on either side, rose two fir-trees from two red flower-pots, nice little round bushes of a bright green or intermixed with brown stitches, which Lucy explained, not to me--"Don't you see the fir-cones, sir? Don't you remember how fond she used to be of picking them up in her little basket at the dear old place? Poor thing, I thought of her all the time that I was working them! Don't you like the fir-cones?"--After this, I looked at the landscape almost as lovingly as Lucy herself. [Illustration: FIG. 53.--BEADWORK SAMPLER BY JANE MILLS. 19TH CENTURY. _Late in the Author's Collection._ NOTE.--The only modern sampler in The Fine Art Society's Exhibition in which beadwork was employed. This is the more remarkable as it apparently dates from about the period when beadwork was so much in fashion for purses, etc. As we shall see in our illustrations of pictures in imitation of tapestry (Plate XXI.), beadwork was very common in the seventeenth century, but we have not seen a single specimen of this material dated in the eighteenth century, unless it be this one, which we place at the end of the eighteenth or the beginning of the nineteenth century.] It has been prophesied that:-- "Untill the world be quite dissolv'd and past So long at least the needles use shall last." I trow not, if for "use" the word "Art" may be substituted. It is true that recent International Exhibitions have included some marvellous specimens of adroitness in needlework, such, for instance, as the wonders from Japan; but these _tours de force_, and even the skilled productions from English schools, as, for instance, "The Royal School of Art Needlework," and which endeavour fitfully to stir up the dying embers of what was once so congenial an employment to womankind, are no indications of any possibility of needlework regaining its hold on either the classes or the masses. Samplers can never again be a necessity whereby to teach the young idea, and every year that passes will relegate them more and more into the category of interesting examples of a bygone and forgotten industry. [Illustration: FIG. 54.--SAMPLER BY ELIZABETH CLARKSON. 1881. _Author's Collection._] One sampler dated within the last half century finds a place in this book, but it is indeed a degraded object, and is included here to show to what the fashion had come in the Victorian era, an era notable for huge sums being expended on Art schools, and over a million children receiving Art instruction at the nation's expense. The sampler is dated 1881, and was the work of a lady of seventeen years of age. The groundwork is a common handkerchief, the young needlewoman evidently considering that its puce-coloured printed border was a better design than any she could invent. It was produced at a school, for there are broidered upon it the names of thirty-five other girls, besides seven bearing her own patronymic. As will be seen by the reproduction (Fig. 54), it is adorned with no less than nine alphabets, not one of which contains an artistic form of lettering. As to the ornament, the cross and anchor hustle the pawnbroker's golden balls, and formless leaves surround the single word "Love," all that the maker's invention could supply of sentimentality. This is apparently the best that the deft fingers of Art-taught girlhood could then produce. The flash in the pan that, round about the date of its creation, was leading to the production of the "chairback" in crewels, collapsed before machine-made imitations, and well it might when even a knowledge of how to stitch an initial is unnecessary, as we can obtain by return of post from Coventry, at the price of a shilling or so a hundred, a roll of our names in red, machine-worked, lettering. Truly it seems as if any use for needlework in the future will be relegated to an occasional spasmodic effort, such as when war confronts us and our soldiers are supposed to be in need of a hundred thousand nightcaps or mufflers. The decay of needlework amongst the children of the middle classes may perhaps be counterbalanced by other useful employments, but undoubtedly with those of a lower stratum of society the lack of it has simply resulted in their filling the blank with the perusal of a cheap literature, productive of nothing that is beneficial either to mind or body. [Illustration: PLATE XIV.--EMBROIDERED PICTURE: CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE, STONING OF MARTYRS, ETC. ABOUT 1625. _Formerly in the Author's Collection._ One of the quaintest of the Embroidery pictures. Differing as it does from the majority of its fellows in the costume of its figures, and valuable as it is as a record of the dress of the first years of the seventeenth century, the piquancy and variety of the subjects depicted combine with these to give it an unusual interest. As regards the dress, it denotes a period towards the close of the reign of James I. The ruff is still worn by the doctors, but the boots of the gentleman who walks with a lady are very close to the fashion of Charles I. The subjects combine religious and mundane. The former comprise Christ in the Temple instructing the doctors, Susannah and the Elders, and a remarkable scene of Martyrs at the stake, one of the latter being in the uncomfortable position of having a stone protruding from his forehead. The latter show the squire and his lady beside their residence, young ladies out for an airing, and others about to enter a Pergola. Its maker has not only been happy through the vitality imparted to the human puppets, but has succeeded equally well with animal life; witness the rabbit and squirrel beneath the apple tree and the greyhound and hare in the lower corner. The water in which Susannah laves her legs is worked in imitation of ripples, and looks fresher than the rest owing to the recent removal of the talc with which it was covered. The clouds in the upper part of the moss, etc., in the lower portion come dark in the reproduction as they are made of purl, which has tarnished. It will be noted that those of the pictures in which the surface is not entirely covered with embroidery are usually worked upon white satin. This was a fashion of the time, and supplanted velvet, the material hitherto used, owing, it is assumed, to its being an easier material to work upon, but also probably to its beautiful surface resembling a background of parchment, and to the magnificent quality which was then made.] [Illustration: FIG. 55.--EMBROIDERED GLOVE. EARLY 17TH CENTURY. _Formerly in the Author's Collection._] PART II Embroideries in the Manner of Tapestry Pictures The Exhibition at The Fine Art Society's included, besides samplers, a gallery containing embroideries, the like of which had not previously been seen together, and as to the history of which text-books were altogether silent. Exhibited collectively, they not only formed a most interesting and unusual whole, but they were clearly the result of a widespread fashion. Specimens were forthcoming in considerable numbers, and were regarded by their owners with a proper appreciation of their archæological value, but with a diffidence as to their history and origin which was not surprising. Under these circumstances it seemed that the occasion of their being brought together should not be lost, and that some illustration of representative specimens, some setting down of any deductions which might be arrived at from their examination and comparison, and some collation of the information which was supplied by their owners should be taken in hand. It was, however, at the outset a matter of no little trouble to find a title which, while it identified and included them, yet excluded those that it was felt necessary to omit. Had a shortened phrase, such as "Embroidered Pictures," been selected, readers would reasonably have expected to find a survey of that large class of embroideries, now somewhat in vogue, which imitate the coloured engravings of the late eighteenth century, and, perhaps, even of the Berlin wool-work travesties of Landseer and his contemporaries. "Stuart Embroidered Pictures," or "Seventeenth-Century Embroidered Pictures," would have better served the purpose were it not that some of the examples precede, and some follow, the period covered by either. Besides, some pieces are not pictures, whilst others, though pictorial in subject, are covers to caskets, etc. The majority, however, have this in common, that they represent a phase of embroidery which, curiously enough, originated contemporaneously with the introduction of the manufacture of tapestry into this country, became popular concurrently with it, and passed out of favour when the production of that textile ceased in England for lack of support. It was this relationship, which I shall shortly proceed to establish, that decided the title which is found at the heading of this part. In endeavouring to trace the origin of these embroideries I have been, curiously enough, confronted with exactly the same difficulties that I encountered in dealing with samplers, namely:-- 1. The industry has no apparent infancy, all the pieces having the same matured appearance. 2. No specimen earlier than the reign of Elizabeth has come under my notice. This does not arise from the decay inseparable from the life of a fairly perishable article, for amongst the earliest specimens may be counted the best preserved; besides, similar work, as, for instance, the embroidery of book covers which was subjected to harder usage, extends for centuries further back. [Illustration: PLATE XV.--TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. THE STORY OF HAGAR AND ISHMAEL. ABOUT 1630. The common subject amongst Tapestry workers of Hagar and Ishmael is told somewhat fully here in three scenes. In the first we have Sarah and Isaac at the tent door, in the second Abraham dismissing Hagar, and in the third the angel visiting Ishmael in the desert. The embroidery is one of those where flat and raised work are conjoined. The sky might be woven, so fine are the stitches, the landscape is made up of a variety of open stitches which are used in lace, but in this instance have been worked on the canvas, the faces are modelled in cotton wool and covered with silk, and the animals (lion and stag) are similarly modelled. The piece is the property of Miss Taintor, of Hartford, U.S.A. Size, 14-1/2 × 19-1/2.] It is for these reasons that I am disposed to attach importance to the theory that the fashion originated with the introduction into England of tapestry, that, like tapestry, it quickly sprang into vogue, and like that article as quickly died out, having for some half a century been an agreeable occupation for deft hands to busy themselves about. If we glance for a moment at the history of tapestry in this country, it will be seen how entirely it mirrors that of the embroideries under notice. Tapestry, as an English manufacture, and tapestry of sufficient amount to afford opportunities to any but a few to imitate it, can hardly be said to have existed in this country prior to the seventeenth century. In the king's palaces, and in those of his wealthy ministers and nobles, this form of decoration was undoubtedly in use in remote times, perhaps as early as in those of other nations, but small interest was taken in its production in comparison with that by foreign countries, even those so contiguous as France and the Netherlands. In fact, until the close of the sixteenth century, but one manufactory is known to have existed in England, namely, that of Burcheston, founded towards the end of the reign of Henry VIII. by William Sheldon, styled "The only author and beginner of tapestry, within this realm." It was not until the year 1620 that James I., stimulated by the example of Henri IV., enlisted in his service a number of Flemish workmen and established at Mortlake the factory which quickly attained to a success which was only rivalled by that of the Gobelins. The industry on the banks of the Thames developed rapidly, and secured European recognition, thanks to the extreme interest taken in it by James I., and still more so by Charles I., aided, as he was, by the invaluable co-operation of Rubens and Vandyck. Tapestry made under royal patronage quickly became the fashion and hobby, and although under the Commonwealth its continuance was threatened, it received fresh favours and subventions under Charles II., at the end of whose reign, however, it not only declined, but practically ceased to exist. It can readily be understood that the prevalence of such a fashion, coinciding with a period when every lady in the land was an adept with her needle, would stimulate many to imitate on a smaller scale the famed productions of the loom, for nothing would better accord with the tapestry-covered walls, than cushions for the oaken chairs, or pictures or mirrors for panelled walls, worked in the same materials. Hence it is probable that all the earlier embroideries were in imitation of tapestry, and worked only in stitches which resembled those of the loom, and that the pieces where we find varieties of stitches introduced, as well as figures, dresses, and animals in relief, are subsequent variations and fancied improvements on the original idea.[10] This is borne out by an examination of dated pieces, none of those bearing these additions being contemporaneous with the introduction of the tapestry industry, whilst only those having a plain surface are found amongst the earliest specimens.[11] [Illustration: Plate XVI.--Tapestry Embroidery. Charles I. and his Queen. About 1630. None of the Embroideries reproduced in this volume approach this in their imitation of Tapestry, it being a facsimile on a small scale in needlework of a large panel. Its resemblance is increased by the border, which adds considerably to its interest and value. Both Sovereigns are crowned, the King wearing a cloak, a vest and breeches which would appear to be all in one (the latter garnished at the knees with many points), boots with huge tops, and big spurs. On either side of the royal pair stand a chamberlain and a lady of honour. The house in the background points to the Tapestry having been designed by a Netherlander.] Embroidery probably reached the zenith of its popularity in the late sixteenth century. It was then of so much importance that Queen Elizabeth granted a charter of incorporation to an Embroiderers' Company who had a hall in Gutter Lane. In order to encourage the pursuit foreign embroideries were in this and the following reigns considered to be contraband, but this protection, instead of improving, practically rang the death knell of the Art. It will be seen from the foregoing that these little embroideries have an abiding interest of a threefold nature. First that arising out of the subjects that are depicted thereon, and which, though limited in range, present considerable differences when compared one with another, quite sufficient to make them individual in character. Next they afford, upon examination, a large amount of historical material, some of it of a valuable kind, concerning the fashions and cranks of the time, material which has not hitherto met with recognition such as it deserves. Lastly, they are admirable specimens of needlework, and in this are quite as noteworthy as samplers, a single piece often containing as many varieties of clever stitches as may be found in a dozen samplers. All that concerns them on this last-named account will be found in the section devoted to "Stitchery." I will, therefore, proceed to examine them collectively from the two first points of view, leaving any remarks which they may separately call for to the notes which accompany the reproductions. The Subjects of Tapestry Embroideries These are, as we have noted, somewhat limited as regards range, and somewhat limited within that range. This is, perhaps, even more so than in the case of the parent tapestries, for whilst they frequently travel into the realms of mythology, the reverse is the case with the embroidered pictures. In the royal palaces of Henry VIII. we find the Tales of Thebes and Troy, the Life and Adventures of Hercules, and of Jupiter and Juno, depicted in tapestry more often, perhaps, than sacred subjects, but this is not so with our little pictures. For instance, there were but two profane subjects in the Embroidery Exhibition, "Orpheus charming the animals with his lute," and the "Judgment of Paris" (Fig. 56); whereas there were at least half a dozen of "Esther and Ahasuerus," and more than one "Susannah and the Elders," "Adam and Eve," "Abraham and Hagar," "Joseph and Potiphar," "David and Abigail," "Queen of Sheba," and "Jehu and Jezebel." Our first parents naturally afforded one of the earliest Biblical subjects for tapestry. Thus a description of a manor house in King John's time states that in the corner of a certain apartment stood a bed, the tapestry of which was enwrought with gaudy colours representing Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, and we read in a fifteenth-century poem by H. Bradshaw, concerning the tapestry in the Abbey of Ely, that:-- "The storye of Adam there was goodly wrought And of his wyfe Eve, bytwene them the serpente." In embroidered pictures the working of the nude figures on a necessarily much smaller scale would appear to have been a difficulty it was hard to contend with, and we consequently find the subject treated for the most part rather from the point of view of the animals to be introduced than from that of our first parents. Curiously enough, Adam and Eve came to the front again as a most popular subject in samplers in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, at a time when a knowledge of the draughtsmanship of the human figure appeared to be even slighter than heretofore. Consequently, they were usually of the most primitive character, standing on either side of a Tree of Knowledge, from which depends the serpent. [Illustration: FIG. 56.--THE JUDGMENT OF PARIS. ABOUT 1630. _Late in the Author's Collection._] Passing onwards in Bible history we find in tapestry embroideries several incidents in the life of Abraham. First the entertainment of the angels and the promise made to him; next the casting forth of Hagar and Ishmael (Plate XV.), oft repeated, perhaps, because of the many incidents in the story capable of illustration; then the offering up of Isaac, as illustrated in Plate IV. "Moses in the Bullrushes" (Fig. 57) completes the illustrations from the Pentateuch. Few other subjects are met with until we reach the life of David as pictured in "David and Goliath" and "David and Abigail." To these follow the visit of the Queen of Sheba to Solomon, and the judgment of that ruler. But the most popular subject of all would seem to be the episode of Queen Esther and King Ahasuerus (Plate XVIII.), from which Mordecai sitting in the King's Gate, Esther adventuring on the King's favour, the banquet to Haman, and his end on the gallows, furnished delightfully sensational episodes, although the main reason for its frequency doubtless depended upon its offering an opportunity of honouring the reigning kings and queens by figuring them as the great monarch Ahasuerus and his beautiful consort, a reason also for the frequent selection of Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. The only incident subsequent to this is one hardly to be expected, namely, "Susannah and the Elders," from the Apocrypha (Plate XIV.). The New Testament, curiously enough, seems to have received but scant attention, even the birth of Christ being but seldom illustrated. If space permitted it would be a matter of interest to trace the reasons for this unexpectedness of subject. It may have arisen from the fact that the English at this time were "the people of one book, and that book the Bible." It is, however, more readily conceivable that the selection was a survival of the times when the mainstay of all the Arts was the Church, and the majority of the work, all the world over, was produced in its service, and therefore naturally was imbued with a religious flavouring. Again, the pieces being in imitation of tapestries, the subjects would naturally follow those figured thereon. Now we find, curiously enough, in the "Story of Tapestrys in the Royal Palaces of Henry VIII.," that whilst there were a few such subjects as "Jupiter and Juno," and "Thebes and Troy," the majority were the following: In the Tower of London, "Esther and Ahasuerus"; in Durham Palace, "Esther" and "Susannah"; in Cardinal Wolsey's Palace, the "Petition of Esther," the "Honouring of Mordecai," and the "History of Susannah and the Elders," bordered with the Cardinal's arms, subjects identical with those represented in our little embroidered pictures. [Illustration: PLATE XVII.--LID OF A CASKET. THE JUDGMENT OF PARIS. ABOUT 1630. _Formerly in the Author's Collection._ Reproduces the gay and well-preserved top of a writing box. The figures which stand under a festooned bower may represent Paris handing the apple to Venus. The dress of the female is of the time of Charles I., which is the date of the casket, the interior of which is lined in part with that beautiful shade of red so popular at this time, and in part with mirrors which reflect a Flemish engraving which lines the bottom. An upper tray is a mass of ill-concealed secret drawers. Size, 12 × 11 inches.] It has been claimed for many of these pieces that they are the product of those prolific workers the nuns of Little Gidding, but the assertion rests on as little basis as does that which ascribes all the embroidered book covers to the same origin. The subjects, although sacred in character, are too mundane in habit to render it at all probable that they were worked in the seclusion of a country nunnery. The foreign origin of the tapestries (even those which were manufactured in England being made and designed by foreigners) accounts for the foreign flavour which pervades their backgrounds and accessories. It has, consequently, been asserted that the inspiration of these embroidery pictures is also foreign, the assertion being based on the fact that the buildings are for the most part of Teutonic design. This is not my opinion. The buildings, it is true, for the most part assume a Flemish or German air, but this is probably due to the reason given at the commencement of this paragraph. It might, with equal force, be held that the pieces are Italian in their origin, as their foregrounds, as we shall presently show, largely affect that style. That either of these suppositions is correct is negatived by the thoroughly English contemporary costume that apparels the principal figures, which also proves that the majority of the pieces were in the main original conceptions, the designers following in the footsteps of their forerunners from the times of Greece downwards, and clothing their puppets, no matter to what age they appertained, in the contemporary dress of their own country. This brings us to the most interesting feature of these little pictures, namely, their value as mirrors of fashion. Tapestry Embroideries as Mirrors of Fashion In this respect they are hardly inferior, as illustrations, to the pictures of Vandyck or the engravings of Hollar; whilst, as sidelights to horticultural pursuits under the Stuart kings, and of the flowers which were then affected, they are perhaps more reliable authorities than the Herbals from whence it has been erroneously asserted that they derived their information. In these respects their value has been entirely overlooked. Authorities on dress go to obscure engravings, or to the brasses or sculptural effigies in our churches, for examples, which have, in every instance, been designed by a man unversed in the intricacies of dressmaking. They have failed to recognise the fact that these embroideries are the product of hands which very certainly knew the cut of every garment, and the intricacy of every bow, knot, and point, and which would take a pride in rendering them not only with accuracy, but in the latest mode. It was probably due to this desire to make their work complete mirrors of fashion, that the embroideresses gave up illustrating the figure in the flat, and stuffed it out like a puppet, upon which each portion of the dress might be superimposed. An illustration of this may be seen in the reproduction on a large scale, in the text of Part III., of some of the figures from the piece of embroidery illustrated in Plate XXIII.[12] As Sir James Linton, an eminent authority upon the dress of the period under review, has pointed out, these embroideries bear upon their face an impress of truth, for they usually, in the same picture, illustrate fashions extending over a considerable period of time. This, instead of being an inaccuracy, is unimpeachable evidence as to their correctness, for the fact is usually overlooked that in those times a man (and a woman also) almost invariably wore, throughout life, the costume of his early manhood, and that in such a piece as that illustrated in Plate XIV. it is quite accurate to represent the old men in the costume of the reign of James I., and the young women in that of Charles I. [Illustration: PLATE XVIII.--TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. THE STORY OF QUEEN ESTHER. ABOUT 1630. This remarkably well-preserved piece of Embroidery represents various incidents in the life of Queen Esther. In the centre the King stretches forth his sceptre to the Queen; in the various corners are portrayed the banquet, the hanging of Haman, and Mordecai and the King. It will be noticed that the King and Queen are likenesses of Charles I. and Henrietta Maria, and the costume is that in vogue towards the end of his reign, when the big boots worn by the men came in for much ridicule, the tops of the King's being "very large and turned down, and the feet two inches too long." The needlework is of the transition period, when a better effect was sought for by appliquéing the faces in satin, outlining the features in silk, and making the hair of the same material. The collars and bows are also added, and the Queen's crown is of pearls, the dais on which the King sits being also sown with them. Size, 16-1/2 × 20-1/2.] The repetition, amounting almost to monotony, in the subjects of these tapestry pieces has been urged against them, but the force of this depreciation is considerably lessened if this question of costume and accessories is taken into account, for a comparison even of the few pieces which are illustrated here will show how much variety is afforded in matters of dress, even if that of a single individual, such as Charles I., is selected for study, although in the case of a royal personage, such as the king, it would only be natural if there was a sameness of costume. He may probably never have been seen by the embroiderer, who would consequently dress him from some picture or engraving. But even here the differences are many and interesting.[13] [Illustration: FIG. 57.--TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. THE FINDING OF MOSES. ABOUT 1640. _Lady Middleton._] They may therefore be deemed worthy of further examination than is usually given them, and this we have accorded in the description attached to each. We embody, however, an instance here as it is not only an apt illustration of the use of these little pictures as illustrations of dress, but of how their age may be thereby ascertained. The work in question belongs to Lady Middleton, is illustrated in Fig. 57, and its frame bears an inscription that it dates from the sixteenth century. The condition of the needlework, and the stitches employed, might well lead to this supposition, but the dress of the attendant to the left of the picture almost exactly corresponds with that on the effigy of one Dorothy Strutt, whose monument is dated 1641. The hair flows freely on the shoulders, but is combed back from the forehead; it is bunched behind, and from this descends a long coverchief which falls like a mantle; the sleeves are wide at the top, but confined at the wrist; a kerchief covers the bust, whilst the gown pulled in at the waist sets fully all round. It will be noted that the chimneys of the house in the background emit volumes of black smoke, a tribute to the Wallsend coal which came only into general use in the early seventeenth century. The greater part of the strong darks in this picture are due to the silk having been painted with a kind of bitumen, which has eaten away the groundwork wherever it has come into contact with it. The frequent selection of royal personages for illustration is one of the features of the industry, and is probably accounted for by the majority of the workers being persons in the higher walks of life, to whom the divine right of kings and devotion to the Crown were very present matters in those troublous times. It will be further noted that the only pre-Stuart embroideries which are reproduced here (_Frontispiece_, and the covering for a book [Fig. 58]) deal with them. As I have stated, yet another value attaches to these tapestry embroideries, namely, as illustrations of the fashions in horticulture under the Stuarts. Those who take an interest in gardening will not be slow to recognise this, and they may even carry that interest beyond this Stuart work to the samplers, whereon instances are not wanting of the formal gardening which came over from Holland with King William, and continued under the House of Hanover. [Illustration: FIG. 58.--PORTION OF A BOOK COVER. 16TH CENTURY. _Author's Collection._] [Illustration: FIG. 59.--PURL AND APPLIED EMBROIDERY. LADY WITH A RABBIT. ABOUT 1630. _Formerly in the Author's Collection._ An illustration of purl work, the whole of the smaller decorations being in tarnished silver thread sewn upon the original satin. The figure in the centre with a rabbit on her knees, as well as the other flowers and birds, are appliquéd, and are in very fine coloured silks. The date of the piece is, judging from the costume, the early part of the reign of Charles I.] In the embroideries we see repeated again and again the hold that Italian gardening had obtained in this country at the time when they were produced, owing to the grafting of ideas carried from the age of mediæval Art. Note, for instance, the importance attached to the fountain, which Hertzner, a German, who travelled through England at the end of the sixteenth century, remarked upon as being such a feature in gardens. The many columns and pyramids of marble and fountains of springing water to which he alludes are repeated again and again in tapestry pictures. The pools of fish which are also found in embroideries of the time were a common feature of the gardens. We read that "A fayre garden always contained a poole of fysshe if the poole be clene kept." (Plate XVIII., Fig. 64, and Fig. 68.) The garden also had green galleries or pergolas formed of light poles overgrown with roses red and white. These are illustrated in Plate XIV. The little Noah's Ark trees did not originate in the brain of the sampler designer, but were actualities which he saw in the garden of the time, being as old as the Romans, who employed a topiarius or pleacher, whose sole business was the cutting of trees into fantastic shapes. This practice was in full swing in Italy in the fifteenth century, and was familiarised in England by the "Hyperotomachia Poliphili," published in 1592, although this book did not introduce it, for Bacon in his essay on "Gardens" says that the art of pleaching was already well known and practised in England. They are quite common objects on the samplers of the eighteenth century, when the cult was increasingly fostered, William and Mary having brought over the Dutch fashion of cutting everything into queer little trifles. An illustration in Worlidge's "Art of Gardening" might almost be a reproduction of the sampler of 1760 (Plate IX.) with its trees all set in absolutely similar order and size. This style, it may be remembered, was doomed upon the advent of Capability Brown with his attempts at chastening and polishing, but not reforming, the living landscape. The embroidered pictures are also interesting as showing the flowers which found a place in the parterres of English gardens. A nosegay garden at the beginning of the seventeenth century consisted, we read, of "gillyflowers, marigolds, lilies, and daffodils, with such strange flowers as hyacinths, narcissus, also the red, damaske, velvet, and double province rose, double and single white rose, the fair and sweet scenting woodbind, double and single, the violet nothing behind the rose for smelling sweetly." Figs. 59 and 60 show many of these flowers naturally disposed, as an examination of the samplers of the period displays almost all of them in a decorative form. A curious feature of these little pictures is the fondness of their makers for introducing grubs of all kinds. This was not altogether fortuitous, or done simply to fill a void, for some of them were certainly as much emblems as the lion and unicorn. The caterpillar, for instance, was a badge of Charles I. It speaks somewhat for the difficulty of imitating these little pictures, that although their price has increased since this book was first published, from a moderate to a high figure, there are as yet few spurious or much restored pieces on the market, and the same remark may apply to samplers. [Illustration: FIG. 60.--EMBROIDERY PICTURE. CHARLES I. AND HIS QUEEN. DATED 1663. _Lord Montagu._ This picture is signed "K.B.," and bears the date 1663, and is, through its composition and subject, of much interest. The king and queen stand under an elaborate tent, on the canopy of which is emblazoned the Royal Arms, the rose and the thistle, in heavy gold and silver bullion. The robes of both their majesties are ornamented with coloured flowers in a heavy silver tissue. The king is crowned and has an ermine cloak, and his spurred white boots have pink heels.] [Illustration: PLATE XIX.--LID OF A CASKET. ABOUT 1660. We have here the top of the lid of the best preserved casket it has been our fortune to encounter, the reproduction in no way exaggerating the brilliancy or freshness of its colouring. The whole of the embroidery is in high relief, and as the shadows show, much of it is detached from the ground, as for instance the strawberries, the apples on the tree on which the parroquet with his ruffled feathers is seated, and the pink and tulip. For some reason not apparent, the gentleman has two left arms and hands, in each of which he holds a hat. It is possible that the figures may be intended for Abraham and Sarah, the latter with her flock at the well.] [Illustration: FIG. 61.--HOLLIE POINT LACE FROM TOP OF CHRISTENING CAP. 1774. _Formerly in the Author's Collection._] PART III I.--Stitchery of Pictures in Imitation of Tapestry and the Like "Tent-worke, Rais'd-worke, Laid-worke, Froste-worke, Net-worke, Most curious Purles or rare Italian Cut-worke, Pine Ferne-stitch, Finny-stitch, New-stitch, and Chain-stitch, Brave Bred-stitch, Fisher-stitch, Irish-stitch, and Queen-stitch, The Spanish-stitch, Rosemary-stitch, and Morose-stitch, The Smarting Whip-stitch, Back-stitch, and the Cross-stitch. All these are good, and these we must allow, And these are everywhere in practise now." _The Needles Excellency._--JOHN TAYLOR. A Writer on the interesting subject of the stitchery of embroidered pictures and their allies, is confronted at the outset with a serious difficulty in the almost hopeless confusion which exists as to the proper nomenclature of stitches. It is hardly too much to say that nearly every stitch has something like half a dozen different names, the result of re-invention or revival by succeeding generations, while to add to the trouble some authorities have assigned ancient names to certain stitches on what appears to be wholly insufficient evidence of identity. That stitches known as _opus Anglicanum_, _opus plumarium_, _opus peclinum_, and so on, were used in embroidery as far back as the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, is proved by ancient deeds and inventories, but what these stitches actually were we have no means of deciding with any degree of certainty. We shall, therefore, in these notes describe the stitches under the names by which they are most commonly known, or which seem to describe them most clearly. Background-Stitches When the backgrounds of pictures in raised or stump embroidery are not of silk or satin left more or less visible, they are usually worked in one or other of the innumerable varieties of cushion-stitch, so-called, it is said, because it was first introduced in the embroidering of church kneeling-cushions. Foremost among these ground-stitches comes tent-stitch, in which the flat embroidered pictures of a slightly earlier period are entirely executed. Tent-stitch is the first half of the familiar cross-stitch, but is taken over a single thread only, all the rows of stitches sloping the same way as a rule, although occasionally certain desired effects of light and shade are produced by reversing the direction of the stitches in portions of the work. An admirable example of evenly worked tent-stitch is shown in Plate XV., although here, of course, it is not a purely background-stitch, as it is adopted for the whole of the work. [Illustration: PLATE XX.--BACK OF CASKET IN TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. SIGNED A. K., 1657. _Mrs Percy Macquoid._ We have here the true imitation of Tapestry as regards stitch, but not so as regards composition, for it is seldom that in Tapestry we find such a lack of proportion as exists in this case between figures and accessories, tulips and carnations standing breast-high, and butterflies larger than human heads. The harpy, which appears on the lower portion of the lid, is an exceptional form of decoration. The backs of caskets are always the least faded portions, as they have been less exposed to the sun and light; such is the case here, although the whole is in a fine state of preservation. It is one of the few dated pieces in existence, being signed "A. K.," 1657.] Another commonly used grounding-stitch is that known in modern times as tapestry or Gobelin-stitch. This is not infrequently confused with tent-stitch, which it much resembles, save that it is two threads in height, but one only in breadth. [Illustration: FIG. 62.--CUSHION-STITCH BACKGROUND; EMBROIDERED BOOK COVER, DATED 1703.] Next in order of importance to these two stitches come the perfectly upright ones, which, arranged in a score of different ways, have been christened by an equal number of names. An effective kind, used for the background of many Stuart pictures, consists of a series of the short perpendicular stitches, arranged in a zig-zag or chevron pattern, each row fitting into that above it. This particular stitch, or rather group of stitches, has been named _opus pulvinarium_, but its claim to the title does not seem very well supported. Other and more modern names are Florentine and Hungary stitch. A neat and pretty cushion-stitch is shown in the background of Fig. 62 on an enlarged scale. This is taken from a quaint little needle-book dated 1703; the design itself being worked in tent-stitch. Among other stitches used for grounds are the long flat satin-stitch familiar in Japanese embroideries of all periods, and laid-stitches, _i.e._, those formed of long threads "laid" on the satin or silk foundation, and held down by short "couching" stitches placed at intervals. Laid-stitch grounds, however, are oftener seen in foreign embroideries, especially Italian and Spanish, than in English examples. [Illustration: FIG. 63.--EYELET-HOLE-STITCH: FROM A SAMPLER DATED 1811.] [Illustration: FIG. 64.--TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY (UPPER PORTION). ABOUT 1640. _Formerly in the Author's possession._] Although tapestry embroidery backgrounds are in most cases worked "solid," that is, entirely covered with close-set stitches forming an even surface, they are occasionally found to be filled in with some variety of open-stitch, as exemplified by Plate XV. Sometimes the lace-like effect is produced by covering the foundation material with a surface stitch; the first row being a buttonhole-stitch, worked into the stuff so as to form the basis of the succeeding rows of simple lace or knotting stitches. The last row is again worked into the foundation. When, however, a linen canvas of rather open mesh was the material of the picture or panel, it was not unusual to whip or buttonhole over the threads with fine silk, a process resulting in a honeycomb-like series of small eyelet holes, as shown in the enlargement, Fig. 63. This is taken from an early nineteenth-century sampler, but the stitch is precisely similar to that seen in embroideries of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Figures in Raised Needlework The high relief portions of the embroidery known as "stump" or "stamp" work, which is popularly supposed to have been invented by the nuns of Little Gidding, appear to have been almost invariably worked separately on stout linen stretched in a frame, and applied when completed. The design was sketched, or transferred, by means of something equivalent to our carbonised paper, on the linen, padded with hair or wool kept in position by a lattice-work of crossing threads, and the raised foundation, or "stump," thus formed covered with close lace-stitches, or with satin or silk, which, in its turn, was partly or entirely covered with embroidery, generally in long-and-short stitch. When the figures were finished a paper was pasted at the back to obviate any risk of frayed or loosened stitches, and they were cut out and fastened into their proper places in the design which had been drawn on or transferred to the silk, satin, or canvas foundation of the actual picture. The lines of attachment are adroitly concealed by couchings of fine cord or gimp. In some pieces of stump embroidery the heads and hands of the figures are of carved wood covered in most instances with a close network of lace-stitch, or with satin or silk, on which the eyes and mouth are either painted or embroidered. In the more elaborate specimens, however, the satin is merely a foundation for embroidery in long-and-short or split stitch, the latter being a variety of the ordinary stem-stitch, in which the needle is brought out through, instead of at the side of, the preceding stitch. The features of faces worked in either of these stitches are generally indicated by carefully directed lines of stem or chain stitching worked over the ground-stitch. This latter when well worked forms a surface scarcely distinguishable from satin in its smoothness. The Figs. 65 and 66, which are enlargements of portions of the embroidery illustrated in Fig. 64, show examples of this mode of working faces. [Illustration: FIG. 65.--FACE WORKED IN SPLIT-STITCH: ENLARGED FROM EMBROIDERY REPRODUCED IN FIG. 64.] [Illustration: PLATE XXI.--BEADWORK EMBROIDERY. CHARLES II. AND HIS QUEEN, ETC. The bright colouring of this picture is due to the greater portion of it having been worked in beads, in which those of strong blue and green predominate, only the hair and hands being worked in needlework, the former in knotted stitches. Beadwork seems to have been extensively utilised in seventeenth-century pictures, but it does not figure in Samplers until a late date, and then only to a minor extent. It is illustrated in Fig. 52, and is about a century old, having been included in the Fine Art Society's Exhibition. The central figures in this piece represent Charles II. and his Queen, Catherine of Braganza, who is represented with that curious lock of hair on her forehead to which the King took so much objection when he saw it for the first time upon her arrival at Southampton. The portraits within the four circles have not at present been recognised. The late owner of this piece purchased it in Hammersmith, and from the fact that Queen Catherine had a house there it is possible that it may have once been a royal possession. Size, 13-1/2 × 17-1/2.] Knot-Stitches [Illustration: FIG. 66.--FACE WORKED IN SPLIT-STITCH: ENLARGED FROM LOWER PORTION (NOT REPRODUCED) OF FIG. 64.] Knot-stitches--these, by the way, have no connection with the knotting-work popular at the end of the seventeenth century--are introduced freely into the stump-work pictures to represent the hair of the human figures, together with the woolly coats of sheep and the sundry and divers unclassified animals invariably found in this type of embroidered picture. These knots or knotted stitches range from the small, tightly-worked French knots which, when closely massed, produce a sufficiently realistic imitation of a fleece, to the long bullion knots formed by twisting the silk thread ten or twelve times round the needle before drawing the latter through the loops. The sheep (enlarged from Fig. 64) in Fig. 67 shows very clearly the effect of the massed French knots. The longer knot-stitches are found to be arranged in even loops sewn closely together, or are worked loosely and placed irregularly to meet the requirements of the design. Knot-stitches of all kinds are seen, too, in the foliage, grass, and mossy banks, although for these couchings of loops of fine cord, untwisted silk and gimp, as well as of purl, seem to have been equally popular. At a later period, that is, towards the middle of the eighteenth century, chenille replaced knot-stitches, couched loops, and purl for the purpose, but it proved much less satisfactory both as regards appearance and durability. [Illustration: FIG. 67.--KNOTTED-STITCH: ENLARGED FROM EMBROIDERY REPRODUCED IN FIG. 64.] Looped-stitches are also used to indicate flowing ringlets, for which the bullion knots would be too formal, as may be seen in Figs. 65 and 66. The loops in these examples are of partly untwisted gimp. In flat embroidery, it may be mentioned, the hair is frequently worked in long-and-short or split stitch, or in short, flat satin-stitches, the lines whereof are cleverly arranged to follow the twists of the curls. In this way the hair of the lady, shown on an enlarged scale in Fig. 66, is worked. Plush-Stitch This is a modern name for the stitch used in the Stuart period embroideries for fur robes and the coats of certain beasts. It is also known as velvet, rug, and raised stitch. To carry it out a series of loops is worked over a small mesh or a knitting pin, each loop being secured to the foundation stuff by a tent or cross-stitch, and when the necessary number of rows is completed, the loops are cut as in the raised Berlin wool-work of early Victorian days. In this stitch the ermine of the king's robe in Plate XVIII. is worked, the black stitches meant to represent the little tails having been put in after the completion of the white silk ground. Embroidery in Purl and Metallic Threads Purl, both that of uncovered metal and that variety wherein the corkscrew-like tube is cased with silk, was generally cut into pieces of the desired length, which were threaded on the needle and sewn down either flat or in loops, according to the design. The greater part of the beautiful piece of embroidery illustrated in Plate XXIII. is carried out in coloured purl, applied in pieces sufficiently long to follow the curves of the pattern. A small example of looped purl-work is shown in the left-hand upper corner of Fig. 66. Purl embroidery, when at all on an elaborate scale, was worked in a frame and "applied," although the slighter portions of a design were often executed on the picture itself. The system of working all the heavier parts of such embroideries separately and adding them piece by piece, as it were, until the whole was complete, accounts, of course, for the extreme rarity of a "drawn" or puckered ground in old needlework pictures and panels. Besides purl, gold and silver "passing" often appears in certain sections of the work. "Passing" is wire sufficiently thin and flexible to be passed through instead of couched down on the foundation material, and with it such devices as rayed suns and moons are often embroidered in long-and-short stitch. A thicker kind of metallic thread was employed for couching, this being made in the same manner as the Japanese thread so largely used in modern work, save that a thin ribbon of real gold took the place of the strip of gilt paper as a casing for the silk thread. Water is sometimes represented by lengths of silver purl stretched tightly across a flat surface of satin or laid-stitches, but not infrequently, instead of the purl, sheets of talc are laid over the silken stitchery. The water in Susannah's bath (Plate XIV.) is covered with talc, hence it appears light coloured in the reproduction. When a metallic lustre was needed, the plumules of peacocks' feathers were occasionally employed, especially in the bodies of butterflies and caterpillars, but these unfortunately have almost invariably suffered from the depredations of a small insect, and it is seldom that more remains of them in old embroideries than a few dilapidated and minute fragments, often barely recognisable for what they are. Lace-Stitches The needle-point lace-stitches, so profusely used in the dresses and decorative accessories of the figures in Stuart embroideries, are, as a rule, of a close and rather heavy type. Sometimes they are found to be worked directly on the picture or panel as surface stitches, in the manner already described as adopted for backgrounds; but it was undoubtedly more usual to work the ruffles, sleeves, flower-petals, butterfly-wings, etc., separately, fastening them into their proper places when finished. Stiffenings of fine wire were generally sewn round the extreme edge of any part intended to stand away from the background. A most interesting variety of lace-stitches may be seen in the costume of the boy shown in the enlargement (Fig. 69), taken from the panel reproduced in Fig. 64. The small illustration (Fig. 61) heading this chapter illustrates quite a different kind of lace-stitch, to wit, the hollie-point, which, originally confined to church embroidery, was during the seventeenth century used to ornament under-garments and babies' christening-robes. [Illustration: FIG. 68.--EMBROIDERY PICTURE. A SQUIRE AND HIS LADY. SIGNED M. C. DATED 1657. _Mr Minet._ This embroidery, which bears the initials "M. C." and the date 1657 in pearls, is notable for the variety of stitches which find a place upon it. The central figures are dressed in elaborate costumes, the lady's robe of yellow satin being embroidered with coloured flowers and decked with pearls, laces, and flowers, an attire altogether inconsistent with the Puritanical times in which she lived.] [Illustration: FIG. 69.--HAIR OF UNRAVELLED SILK: ENLARGEMENT OF PORTION OF EMBROIDERY REPRODUCED IN FIG. 64.] Bead Embroidery The actual stitchery in the old embroideries that are worked entirely, or almost entirely, in beads, is of an extremely simple description. In the majority of pieces the work is applied as in the case of the stump embroideries, the beads being threaded and sewn down on the framed linen, either flatly or over padding. In the less elaborate class of embroideries, however, the beads are sewn directly on the satin ground; but when this plan has been adopted the design is rarely padded at all, although small portions of it, such as cravats, girdle-tassels, and garter-knots, are found to be detached from the rest of the work. This is for the most part executed with long strings of threaded beads couched down in close-set rows. Plate XXI. represents an excellent specimen of flat and raised bead-work combined with purl embroidery. See also Fig. 52. Groundwork Tracings The first stage of an embroidered picture is well illustrated in Fig. 70, which is worthy of careful study. The original is a piece of satin measuring 9-1/2 × 8 in., and on this the design has been traced by a pointed stylus, the deep incised lines made in the thick material having been coloured black, probably by a transferring medium similar to carbonised paper. The shadows have been added with a brush, evidently wielded by an experienced hand, for not only are they gradated in the original, but there are no signs of any difficulty in dealing with the flow of colour on the absorbent textile. The subject of the picture is said to be the Princess Mary and the Prince William of Orange. [Illustration: PLATE XXII.--TAPESTRY EMBROIDERY. DATED 1735. In no Embroidery in the whole of this volume has a more determined endeavour been made to imitate Tapestry than in the little piece here illustrated. So deftly has this been carried out that experts have declined to believe that it is needlework, or that the gradation of blues in the background have been obtained except through stain or dye. The workmanship of that portion of the sky over which the bird flies appeared also too fine for manual execution. An examination of the back has disproved both suppositions. The piece is noteworthy for the border at the top, which is a link connecting it with the Sampler. A date, 1735, can be distinguished through the stain in the upper right corner.] Implements Used [Illustration: FIG. 70.--GROUNDWORK TRACING FOR EMBROIDERED PICTURE. 17TH CENTURY. _Mr E. Hennell._] It is probable that some details in the picture--acorns, fruit, and the like--were worked with the aid of the curious little implements shown in Fig. 71. These are thimble-shaped moulds of thin, hard wood, which have two rows of holes pierced round their base. Through these holes are passed the threads which form the foundation of the rows of lace or knotting-stitches that are worked with the needle round and round the mould until it is completely covered. The knotted purses of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were possibly made on moulds of this kind. The plate shows two of these queer little objects, as well as a long spool or bobbin with ancient silks of various colours still wound on it, the spool-case belonging to it, and two pieces of knotted-work in different stages of development. [Illustration: FIG. 71.--MOULDS FOR KNOTTED OR LACE WORK, WITH SILK SPOOLS AND CASE.] [Illustration: PLATE XXIII.--SPECIMEN OF PURL EMBROIDERY. 16TH-17TH CENTURY. _Formerly in the Author's Collection._ A specimen of stitchery of various kinds, much of it in high relief, and of purl work. The reproduction, whilst translating very faithfully the colours, gives but little idea of the relief. Size, 12 × 16-1/2.] II.--The Stitchery of Samplers, with a Note on their Materials "Sad sewers make sad samplers. We'll be sorry Down to our fingers'-ends and 'broider emblems Native to desolation--cypress sprays, Yew-tufts and hectic leaves of various autumn And bitter tawny rue, and bent blackthorns." _The Soldier of Fortune._--LORD DE TABLEY. Cut and Drawn-Work The open-work stitchery, which is so important and pleasing a feature of the seventeenth-century sampler, is of two kinds; that is, _double_ cut-work--the Italian _punto tagliato_--in which both warp and woof threads are removed, save for a few necessary connecting bars, and _single_ cut-work--_punto tirato_--wherein but one set of threads is withdrawn. The first type (which is probably the "rare Italian cut-work" mentioned in "The Needle's Excellency") is the immediate ancestor of needle-point lace, and is the kind that is oftenest met with in the oldest and finest samplers; the second approaches more nearly to the drawn-thread embroidery worked both abroad and at home at the present day. In executing real double cut-work, after the surplus material has been cut away, the supporting or connecting threads are overcast, the edges of the cut linen buttonholed, and the spaces within this framework filled in with lace-stitches, simple or elaborate. In the best specimens of samplers the effect is sometimes enhanced by portions of the pattern being detached from the ground, as in the upper part of the beautiful sampler illustrated in Fig. 72.[14] These loose pieces usually have as basis a row of buttonhole-stitches worked into the linen, but in some examples the lace has been worked quite separately and sewn on. The mode of working both double and single cut-work is shown plainly in the two enlargements (Figs. 73 and 74), which are of parts of samplers probably worked about 1660. [Illustration: FIG. 72--DRAWN-WORK SAMPLER. 17TH CENTURY.] There is a third and much simpler type of open-work occasionally found on seventeenth-century samplers, which is carried out by piercing the linen with a stiletto and overcasting the resulting holes so as to produce a series of bird's-eye or eyelet stitches. All three varieties of open-stitch are frequently seen in combination with that short, flat satin-stitch, which, when worked in a diaper pattern with white thread or silk on a white ground, is sometimes called damask-stitch. This pretty combination of stitches appears in Plate VI., and also in the enlargement (Fig. 74) already referred to. [Illustration: FIG. 73.--CUT AND DRAWN-WORK: ENLARGEMENT FROM 17TH-CENTURY SAMPLER.] Back-Stitch This stitch was largely used in the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries for the adornment of articles of personal clothing, as well as of quilts and hangings, hence it is natural that it is prominent in the samplers of the period. In the older specimens the bands of back-stitch patterns are worked with exquisite neatness, both sides being precisely alike; but in those of later date signs of carelessness are apparent, and the reverse side is somewhat untidy. In no sampler examined by the writer, however, has the back-stitch been produced by working a chain-stitch on the wrong side of the linen, as is the case in some of the embroidered garments of the period. The samplers illustrated in Plates III. and VII. are noticeable for their good bands of back-stitching. A small section of Fig. 5 is shown on an enlarged scale in Fig. 75. In some modern text-books of embroidery, it may be added, the old reversible or two-sided back-stitch is distinguished as Holbein-stitch. [Illustration: FIG. 74.--SATIN-STITCH AND COMBINATION OF TYPES OF OPEN-WORK: ENLARGED FROM THE SAMPLER REPRODUCED IN FIG. 4. 17TH CENTURY.] Alphabet-Stitches The stitches used for the lettering on samplers are three in number, to wit, cross-stitch, bird's-eye-stitch and satin-stitch. Of the first there are two varieties, the ordinary cross-stitch, known in later years as sampler-stitch, and the much neater kind, in which the crossed stitches form a perfect little square on the wrong side. This daintiest of marking stitches is rarely seen on samplers later than the eighteenth century. The satin-stitch alphabets are worked in short flat stitches, not over padding, according to the modern method of initial embroidering, and the letters are generally square rather than curved in outline. The bird's-eye-stitch, when used for alphabets, varies greatly in degree of fineness. In some instances the holes are very closely overcast with short, even stitches, but in others the latter are alternately long and short, so that each "eyelet" or "bird's-eye" is the centre, as it were, of a star of ray-like stitches. [Illustration: PLATE XXIV.--DARNING SAMPLER. 1788. Darning Samplers of unpretentious form date back a long way, but those where they were conjoined to decoration, as in the specimens reproduced here, appeared to cluster round the end of the eighteenth century. Not only are a variety of stitches of a most intricate kind set out on them, but they are done in gay colours, and any monotony is averted by delicately conceived borderings. Whilst "Darning Samplers" cannot be considered as rare, they certainly are not often met with in fine condition. They are a standing testimony to the assiduity and dexterity of our grandparents in the reparation of their household napery.] Darning-Stitches The stitches exemplifying the mode of darning damask, cambric, or linen had usually a sampler entirely devoted to them, and at one period--the end of the eighteenth century--it seems to have been a fairly general custom that a girl should work one as a companion to the ordinary sampler of lettering and patterns. The specimen darns on such a sampler are, as a rule, arranged in squares or crosses round some centre device, a bouquet or basket of flowers for instance, or it may be merely the initials of the worker in a shield. The two samplers (Fig. 76 and Plate XXIV.) are typical examples of their kind, although perhaps the ornamental parts of the designs are a little more fanciful than in the majority of those met with. [Illustration: FIG. 75.--BACK-STITCH: ENLARGEMENT OF PORTION OF SAMPLER IN FIG. 5. 17TH CENTURY. TWICE ACTUAL SIZE.] The best worked--not necessarily the most elaborately embellished--of this particular class of sampler has small pieces of the material actually cut out and the holes filled up with darning, but in inferior ones the stuff is left untouched, and the darn is simply worked on the linen, tammy cloth, or tiffany itself. This is a very much easier method and the appearance is better; but the darns so made are, after all, but imitations of the real thing. For the damask darns fine silk of two colours is invariably used, and in the properly worked examples both sides are alike, save, of course, for the reversal of the damask effect, as in woven damask. The centre designs in the two samplers illustrated are worked in fine darning-stitches of divers kinds, outlined with chain and stem stitches. Here and there a few other stitches are introduced, as in the stem of the rose in Fig. 76, where French knots are used to produce the mossy appearance. The centre basket in this sampler is worked in lines of chain-stitching crossing each other lattice fashion. Both the samplers have the initials of their workers, and in that shown in Fig. 76 the date (1802) also, neatly darned into one of the crosses formed by the damask patterns. Darning-samplers are usually square, or nearly square, in shape, and are simply finished with a single line of hem-stitching at the edge, but some of the older ones are ornamented with a broader band of drawn-work as border; while a few have examples of drawn-work, alternating with squares and crosses of darning, in the body of the sampler. A small section of such a sampler, dated 1785, is illustrated on an enlarged scale in Fig. 77. It has a series of small conventional leaf patterns worked in single drawn-work, and edged with a scalloping worked in chain-stitch with green silk. The ground of this particular sampler is thin linen, but the muslin-like stuff known as tiffany is that used for the foundation of nine darning-samplers out of ten. Tent and Cross Stitches Neither tent-stitch nor tapestry-stitch appears to have been largely introduced in sampler-embroidery at any period; still, portions of a few specimens worked during the early and middle years of the eighteenth century are executed in one or other of these stitches. Tent-stitch, for instance, plays an important part in the wreath border of Fig. 8. The beautifully shaded leaves are all worked in this way, as are many of the flowers, other varieties of grounding or cushion-stitches being used for the rest of the border. The Commandments, which the wreath enframes, are worked in cross-stitch. This last-named stitch in its earliest form is worked over a single thread, and produces a close and solid effect when closely massed, or, as may be seen in many sampler maps, very fine lines when worked in single rows. Ordinary cross-stitch taken over two threads is, of course, the familiar stitch in which nineteenth-century samplers are entirely worked, whence arises its second name of sampler-stitch. [Illustration: FIG. 76.--DARNING SAMPLER. SIGNED M. M., T. B., J. F. DATED 1802. _The late Mrs Head._] [Illustration: FIG. 77.--ENLARGED PORTION OF A DARNING SAMPLER. DATED 1785.] A pretty and--in sampler embroidery--uncommon stitch is that in which the crowned lions in the samplers of Mary and Lydia Johnson (Figs. 35 and 36) are worked. This stitch is formed of two cross-stitches superimposed diagonally, and since its revival in the Berlin wool era has been known by the names of star-stitch and leviathan-stitch. Various Stitches Besides the stitches already enumerated and described, sundry and divers others are found on samplers of various periods. Satin-stitch, for instance, is used for borders and other parts of designs, as well as for alphabets. Long-and-short stitch, frequently very irregularly executed, seems to have been popular for the embroidery of the wreaths and garlands that make gay many of the later eighteenth-century samplers. Stem-stitch, save for such minor details as flower-stalks and tendrils, is not often seen; but the wreath-borders of a limited number of eighteenth-century samplers are done entirely in this stitch, worked in lines round and round, or up and down, each leaf and petal until the whole is filled in. Stem-stitch, it should be explained, is, to all intents and purposes, the same as "outline" or "crewel" stitch. The latter name, however, is likewise applied to long-and-short or plumage stitch by some writers on embroidery. Laid-stitches may also be included in the list of stitches occurring occasionally in samplers, although it is rarely met with in its more elaborate forms. A sampler dated 1808 has two baskets (of flowers) worked in long laid-stitches of brown silk couched with yellow silk, the effect of wicker-work being produced with some success by this plan, and similar unambitious examples appear in some samplers of rather earlier date. The portion of a sampler shown in Fig. 2 is interesting by reason of the fact that it is worked in knots, a form of stitchery comparatively rare, save in those unclassifiable pieces of embroidery which are neither pictures nor samplers, but possess some of the features of both. Materials Linen, bleached or unbleached, but, of course, always hand-woven, is the foundation material of the early samplers. It varies greatly in texture, from a coarse, canvas-like kind to a fine and closely woven sort of about the same stoutness as good modern pillow-case linen. The stitchery of these oldest samplers is executed in linen thread or a somewhat loosely twisted silk, often scarcely coarser than our nineteenth-century "machine silk," although, on the other hand, a very thick and irregularly spun type is occasionally seen. About 1725 linen of a peculiar yellow colour and rather harsh texture came into vogue; but this went out of fashion in a few years, and towards the end of the eighteenth century the strong and durable linen was almost entirely superseded by an ugly and moth-attracting stuff called indifferently tammy, tammy cloth, bolting cloth, and, when woven in a specially narrow width, sampler canvas. The stitchery on samplers of this date is almost invariably executed with silk, although in a few of the coarser ones fine untwisted crewel is substituted. Tiffany, the thin, muslin-like material mentioned in connection with darning-samplers, was at this period used also for small delicately wrought samplers of the ordinary type. Early in the nineteenth century very coarsely woven linen and linen canvas came into fashion again, and for some time were nearly as popular as the woollen tammy; while, about 1820, twisted crewels of the crudest dyes replaced in a great measure the soft toned silks. Next followed the introduction of cotton canvas and Berlin wool, and with them vanished the last remaining vestige of the exquisite stitchery and well-balanced designs of earlier generations, and the sampler, save in a most degraded form, ceased to exist. Index Abraham on sampler, 58. Fig. 16 Acorn, 58, 68, 109. Plate III. Fig. 16 Adam and Eve on samplers, 21, 62, 109; on embroideries, 128 Africa, map of, 97. Fig 41 Age of sampler, how to estimate, 15 Age of sampler workers, 80 Agur's prayer. Plate XI. Alphabets on samplers, 19, 22, 84; stitches, 164 America, samplers from, 24, 97 (Plate XIII., Figs. 42-51); map of, 92. Fig. 39 Anchors, Fig. 23 Animals on samplers, 65 Ascension Day samplers, 38 Background-stitches, 144 Back-stitches, 109, 163. Plates III. and VII. Fig. 75 Bead embroidery, 158 (Plate XXII.); sampler, Fig. 53 Belief, the, 28 Belgian samplers, 110 Biblical subjects in tapestry embroideries, 128 Bird's-eye-stitch, 164 Borders to samplers, 75 Boston, U.S.A., samplers from, 89. Fig. 50 Boxers, 61. Plate III. Fig. 18 Boys, samplers by, 84. Fig 34 Brontës, samplers by, 28. Figs. 10, 11, 12 Brooklyn, U.S.A., sampler from, 89. Fig. 47 Buttonhole-stitch, 146 Calcutta, samplers from, 35. Fig. 3 Carnation, see "Pink" Caterpillar, 140 Charles I., Plates XVI. and XVIII. Charles II., Plate XXI. Children, samplers by, 80 Christening samplers, 109 Christmas samplers, 38 Colouring of samplers, 52 Commandments, the, 27. Fig. 9 Corn blue-bottle, 78 Coronet, see "Crowns" Costume on tapestry embroideries, 132 Crewel-stitch, 170 Cross-stitch, 109, 166 Crowns on samplers, 68. Figs. 20-22 Crucifixion on samplers, 108, 109 Cupids on samplers, Fig. 23 Cushion-stitch, 144. Fig. 62 Cut and drawn work stitches, 161. Figs. 4, 7, 16, 24, 42, 72, 73 Darned samplers, Fig. 76. Plate XXIV. Darning-stitches, 110, 165. Plate XXIV. Figs. 76, 77 David and Abigail, 128, 130; and Goliath, 130 Deer, see "Stags" Design on samplers, 51 Dogs on samplers, Fig. 17. Plate III. Drawn-work, 58, 135. Fig. 16 Dress, value of tapestry embroideries as patterns of, 132 Dutch samplers, 110 Earliest samplers, 10, 13, 16 Easter samplers, 36 Embroiderers' Company, 127 Embroideries in the manner of tapestry pictures, 123; subjects of, 127; as mirrors of fashion, 132 England, maps of, 94. Fig. 40. Esther and Ahasuerus, 128, 130. Plate XVIII. Evolution of samplers, 12, 15 Eyelet-stitch, 146. Fig. 63 Fig on samplers, 68. Plate III. Fine Art Society's Exhibition of samplers, 4, 28, 66, 89, 119; of embroideries, 123 Fleur de Lys on samplers, 21 Florentine-stitch, 145 Flowers on samplers, 65; on tapestry embroideries, 139 Foreign flavour in embroideries, 131 Foreign samplers, 104 Fountains on tapestry embroideries, 136 French knot-stitches, 151. Figs. 21 and 67 French samplers, 111 Gardening, illustrations of, on tapestry embroideries, 135 German samplers, 108 Glove, embroidered. Fig. 55 Gobelin-stitch, 145 Gold and silver passing, 154 Grubs on tapestry embroideries, 140 Hagar and Ishmael, 129. Plate XV. Hearts on samplers, 75. Figs. 21-23 Hollie point lace cap, Fig. 61; stitch, 157 Honeysuckle on samplers, 66, 79. Fig. 30 Horticulture, see "Gardening" House on samplers, 118 (Figs. 14, 46, 48); on tapestry embroidery, 135. Fig. 56 Human figure, 57 Hungary-stitch, 145 Implements used in stitchery, 159. Fig. 71 Indian samplers, 113. Figs. 3 and 52 Inscriptions on samplers, 23, 91 Italian samplers, 111 Judgment of Paris, 128. Fig. 56 Knot-stitches, 109, 151. Figs. 21 and 67 Lace-stitches, 154. Figs. 61, 68-70 Laid-stitch, 146 Last of the samplers, 117 Lettering on samplers, 22 Leviathan-stitch, 169 Life and death, inscriptions referring to, 41 Lion on sampler, 65. Fig. 44 Literature sampler, 115 Little Gidding, nuns, 131, 149 Long-and-short-stitch, 170 Looped-stitches, 152 Lord's Prayer, the, 27 Maidstone Museum, tapestry picture. Plate I. Map samplers, 92. Figs. 39-41 Materials on which samplers were worked, 171 Mermaid on sampler, Fig. 16 Metal thread, 153 Milton, mention of sampler by, 14 Mitford, Miss, on samplers, 118 Mortlake tapestries, 100 Moses in the bullrushes, 129 Mustard or canary-coloured canvas, 55 National events, samplers as records of, 90 Need of samplers, 11 Needle's excellency, the, 115, 116, 143 Numerals on samplers, 22 Oak, see "Acorn" Origin of samplers, place of, 88 Ornament, sampler, 51 Ornamentation, earliest date of various forms of, 21 Orpheus, 128 Parents and preceptors, duties to, 46 Passing, 154 Passion Week samplers, 38 Patternes of cut workes, 115 Peacocks' feathers, use of, 154 Pearls, seed, on tapestry embroideries, 133--_note_ Pears, 109 Pineapple on samplers, 68 Pink on samplers, 66, 78, 109. Plates III., IV., VI. Fig. 28 Place of origin of samplers, 88 Plush-stitch, 153. Plate XVIII. Portuguese samplers, 112 Poverty, inscriptions concerning, 48 Prayers on samplers, 39 Preceptors, duties to, 46 Purl, 153. Plate XXIII. Quaint inscriptions, 49 Religious festivals, verses commemorating, 36 Rhymes on samplers, see "Verses" Royal personages on tapestry embroideries, 133 Royal school of art needlework, 120 Rose on samplers, 58, 66, 109 (Figs. 7, 16, Plate VI.); on tapestry embroideries, 113 Ruskin, John, on needlework in museums, 2; on samplers, 3; sampler by grandmother of, 3, and Plate X. Samplers. Parts I. and III. (Sec. II.) Satin-stitch, 122, 141, 146 Scottish samplers, 71, 84, 89. Figs. 21, 34 Sex of sampler workers, 80 Shakespeare, mention of sampler by, 13 Sidney, Sir P., mention of sampler by, 14 Signatures on samplers, 23 Size of samplers, 84 Smoke (chimney) on embroideries, 135. Fig. 57 Spanish samplers, 112 _Spectator_ on decay of needlework, 117 Spies to Canaan, 21 Split-stitch, 150. Figs. 65, 66 Stag on samplers, 21, 65, 80. Figs. 6, 17. Plates III., VIII. Star-stitch, 169. Figs. 35, 36 Stem-stitch, 150 Stitchery of tapestry pictures, 143; of samplers, 161 Stitches, background, 144; cushion, 144; tent, 144; Gobelin, 145; upright, 145; Florentine, 145; Hungary, 145; satin, 146; open, 146; buttonhole, 146; eyelet, 149 (Fig. 63); split, 152 (Figs. 65, 66); stem, 150; knot, 151; looped, 152; plush, 153; purl, 153; passing, 154; lace, sampler stitches, 154; hollie point, 157 (Fig. 61); cut and drawn-work, 161; back-stitch, 163 (Fig. 75); alphabet-stitch, 164; darning-stitch, 165 (Plate XXIV. and Figs. 8, 76); tent and cross-stitch, 166; various, 170 Strawberry on samplers, 66. Fig. 31. Plate XIII. Stump embroidery, 149 Susannah and the elders, 128, 130, 131. Plate XIV. Swiss samplers, 111 Talc, 154. Plate XIV. Tammy cloth, 171 Tapestry, history of, 125; stitch, 145 Tapestry pictures--see embroideries in the manner of Tent-stitch, 166 Thistle on sampler, 71. Fig. 21 Tracing, groundwork, 158. Fig. 70 Tree of knowledge on samplers, 18_n_, 62_n_, 109. Figs. 17, 18 Tulip on samplers, 78. Figs. 27, 59 Upright-stitch, 145 Verses on samplers, 27, 36-51 Vice, inscription concerning, 48 Victoria and Albert Museum, samplers in, 11, 21, 58. Fig. 7 Virtue, inscription concerning, 48 Wealth, inscription concerning, 48 _Printed at_ THE DARIEN PRESS, _Edinburgh_ FOOTNOTES: [1] The picture also shows that the principal decorations of the walls of the schoolroom were framed examples of attainments with the needle. [2] In the original all the small pieces of work in the upper corner near the initials are varieties of gold thread design, and almost all the grey colour throughout, in the reproduction, is silver thread. [3] It was claimed by its late owner, Mrs Egerton Baines, that almost every line of this sampler contains Royalist emblems. For instance, the angel in the upper part is supposed to be Margaret of Scotland wearing the Yorkist badge as a part of her chatelaine; beside her is the Tree of Life, on either side of which are Lancastrian S's, the whole row being symbolical of the descent of the Stuarts from Margaret of Scotland, daughter of Henry VII. The next row of ornament is also the Tree of Life, represented by a vine springing from an acorn, by tradition a symbolical badge of Henrietta Maria, wife of Charles I. The next two rows are made up of roses, acorns, and Stuart S's, which S's again appear in the line beneath, linked with the Tree of Life. We refer elsewhere (p. 62) to the figures in the bottom row (the whole of the sampler is not shown here), and these are supposed to be Oliver Cromwell as a tailed devil. The sampler is neither signed nor dated, but it clearly belongs to the first half of the seventeenth century. The silks employed are almost exclusively pink, green, and blue, and the work is of the open character found in that illustrated in Plate III. [4] In one by Hannah Lanting, dated 1691, the orthography is "with my nedel I rout the same," and it adds, "and Juda Hayle is my Dame." [5] The lower portion of Fig. 18 opposite introduces us to an early and crude representation of Adam and Eve and the serpent, and to the bird and fountain, and flower in vase, forms of decoration which became at a later date so very common. The name of the maker has been obliterated owing to dirt getting through a broken glass, but the date is 1742. [6] This sampler is interesting owing to its drawn-work figures, which are directly copied from two effigies of the reign of James I., and may stand for that Monarch and his Queen. This portion of the sampler might readily be mistaken for that date were it not that it bears on the bar which divides the figures the letters S.W., 1700. The border at the side of the figures is in red silk, that at the top and the alphabet are in the motley array of colours to which we are accustomed in specimens of this date. [7] A map of Europe, formerly in the author's possession, had the degrees marked as so many minutes or hours east or west of Clapton! [8] "Samplers," by Alice Morse Earle. [9] It first appeared in the _Lady's Magazine_, 1819, and in the first collected edition, 1824, Vol. I. pp. 67, 68; also in Bohn's Classics, 1852, pp. 138, 139. [10] These latter, with their figures standing out in relief, could never have been used for cushions, and can only have been employed as pictures. [11] The difficulty of assigning a close date to tapestry embroideries is a considerable one, for dress is practically the only guide, and this is by no means a reliable one, for a design may well have been taken from a piece dated half a century previously, as, for instance, when the marriage of Charles I. is portrayed on an embroidery bearing date 1649, the year of his death. Those, therefore, which have a genuine date have this value, that they can only represent a phase of art or a subject coeval with, or precedent to, that date. Hence the importance of the pieces illustrated in Fig. 60 and in Fig. 68, dated six years later. [12] Mr Davenport considers that this rounded, padded work is a caricature of the raised embroidery of the _opus Anglicanum_, and that the earliest specimens of it are to be found at Coire, Zurich, and Munich. [13] The fondness for decking the dress with pearls is quaintly portrayed in these pictures, where they are imitated by seed pearls. As to these there is an interesting extract extant, from the inventory of St James's House, nigh Westminster, in 1549, wherein among the items is one of "a table [or picture] whereon is a man holding a sword in one hand and a sceptre in the other, of needlework, prettily garnished with seed pearls." [14] A very good example of a sampler in drawn-work, in which the floral form of decoration is entirely absent, save in the sixth row (the pinks), which is in green silk, the rest being in white. That the sampler was intended as a pattern is evident from some of the rows being unfinished. 
26151	----	THE TAPESTRY BOOK BY HELEN CHURCHILL CANDEE AUTHOR OF "DECORATIVE STYLES AND PERIODS" _WITH FOUR PLATES IN COLOUR AND NINETY-NINE ILLUSTRATIONS IN BLACK-AND-WHITE_ NEW YORK FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY MCMXII [Illustration: HERSE AND MERCURY Renaissance Brussels Tapestry, Italian Cartoon. W. de Pannemaker, weaver. Collection of George Blumenthal, Esq., New York] _Copyright, 1912, by_ FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY _All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian_ _October, 1912_ TO TWO CERTAIN BYZANTINE MADONNAS AND THEIR OWNERS AN ACKNOWLEDGMENT Modesty so dominates the staff in art museums that I am requested not to make mention of those officers who have helped me with friendly courtesy and efficiency. To the officers and assistants at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, the Art Institute of Chicago, the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, and the Print Department in the Library of Congress in Washington, indebtedness is here publicly acknowledged with the regret that I may not speak of individuals. Photographs of tapestries are credited to Messrs. A. Giraudon, Paris; J. Laurent, Madrid; Alinari, Florence; Wm. Baumgarten, and Albert Herter, New York, and to those private collectors whose names are mentioned on the plates. H. C. C. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I A FOREWORD 1 II ANTIQUITY 15 III MODERN AWAKENING 25 IV FRANCE AND FLANDERS, 15TH CENTURY 32 V HIGH GOTHIC 51 VI RENAISSANCE INFLUENCE 64 VII RENAISSANCE TO RUBENS 72 VIII ITALY, 15TH THROUGH 17TH CENTURIES 81 IX FRANCE 90 X THE GOBELINS FACTORY 105 XI THE GOBELINS FACTORY (_Continued_) 117 XII THE GOBELINS FACTORY (_Continued_) 126 XIII THE GOBELINS FACTORY (_Continued_) 135 XIV BEAUVAIS 145 XV AUBUSSON 154 XVI SAVONNERIE 159 XVII MORTLAKE 163 XVIII IDENTIFICATIONS 172 XIX IDENTIFICATIONS (_Continued_) 186 XX BORDERS 201 XXI TAPESTRY MARKS 216 XXII HOW IT IS MADE 226 XXIII THE BAYEUX TAPESTRY 241 XXIV TO-DAY 249 BEST PERIODS AND THEIR DATES 265 INDEX 267 ILLUSTRATIONS HERSE AND MERCURY (_Coloured Plate_) _Frontispiece_ Renaissance Brussels Tapestry, Italian Cartoon. W. de Pannemaker, weaver. Collection of George Blumenthal, Esq., New York FACING PAGE CHINESE TAPESTRY 14 Chien Lung Period COPTIC TAPESTRY 15 About 300 A. D. COPTIC TAPESTRY 16 Boston Museum of Fine Arts COPTIC TAPESTRY 17 Boston Museum of Fine Arts TAPESTRY FOUND IN GRAVES IN PERU 18 Date prior to Sixteenth Century THE SACRAMENTS (_Coloured Plate_) 34 Arras Tapestry, about 1430. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York THE SACRAMENTS 38 Arras Tapestry, about 1430 THE SACRAMENTS 39 Arras Tapestry, about 1430 FIFTEENTH CENTURY, FRENCH TAPESTRY 40 Boston Museum of Fine Arts THE LIFE OF CHRIST 41 Flemish Tapestry, second half of Fifteenth Century. Boston Museum of Fine Arts LA BAILLÉE DES ROSES 42 French Tapestry, about 1450. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York FIFTEENTH CENTURY MILLEFLEUR WITH ARMS 43 Cathedral of Troyes THE LADY AND THE UNICORN 44 French Tapestry, Fifteenth Century. Musée de Cluny, Paris THE LADY AND THE UNICORN 45 French Tapestry, Fifteenth Century. Musée de Cluny, Paris THE SACK OF JERUSALEM (DETAIL) 46 Burgundian Tapestry, about 1450. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF CHRIST, WITH ARMORIAL SHIELDS 48 Flemish Tapestry, Fifteenth Century. Institute of Art, Chicago HISTORY OF THE VIRGIN 49 Angers Cathedral DAVID AND BATHSHEBA 50 German Tapestry, about 1450 FLEMISH TAPESTRY. ABOUT 1500 51 Collection of Alfred W. Hoyt, Esq. DAVID AND BATHSHEBA 52 Flemish Tapestry, late Fifteenth Century HISTORY OF ST. STEPHEN 53 Arras Tapestry, Fifteenth Century VERDURE 54 French Gothic Tapestry "ECCE HOMO" 55 Brussels Tapestry, about 1520. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York ALLEGORICAL SUBJECT 56 Flemish Tapestry, about 1500. Collection of Alfred W. Hoyt, Esq. CROSSING THE RED SEA 57 Brussels Tapestry, about 1500. Boston Museum of Fine Arts THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN 58 Flemish Tapestry, about 1510. Collection of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq., New York FLEMISH TAPESTRY, END OF FIFTEENTH CENTURY 60 Collection of Martin A. Ryerson, Esq., Chicago. Formerly in the Spitzer Collection THE HOLY FAMILY 61 Flemish Tapestry, end of Fifteenth Century. Collection of Martin A. Ryerson, Esq., Chicago. Formerly in the Spitzer Collection CONQUEST OF TUNIS BY CHARLES V (DETAIL) 62 Cartoon by Jan Vermeyen. Woven by Pannemaker. Royal Collection at Madrid DEATH OF ANANIAS.--FROM ACTS OF THE APOSTLES BY RAPHAEL 64 From the Palace of Madrid THE STORY OF REBECCA 65 Brussels Tapestry, Sixteenth Century. Collection of Arthur Astor Carey, Esq., Boston THE CREATION 66 Flemish Tapestry. Italian Cartoon, Sixteenth Century THE ORIGINAL SIN 67 Flemish Tapestry. Italian Cartoon, Sixteenth Century MELEAGER AND ATALANTA 68 Flemish design, second half of Seventeenth Century. Woven in Paris workshops by Charles de Comans PUNIC WAR SERIES 69 Brussels Tapestry. Sixteenth Century. Collection of Arthur Astor Carey, Esq., Boston EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF CÆSAR 70 Flemish Tapestry. Sixteenth Century. Gallery of the Arazzi, Florence WILD BOAR HUNT 71 Flemish Cartoon and Weaving, Sixteenth Century. Gallery of the Arazzi, Florence VERTUMNUS AND POMONA 72 First half of Sixteenth Century. Royal Collection of Madrid VERTUMNUS AND POMONA 73 First half of Sixteenth Century. Royal Collection of Madrid VERTUMNUS AND POMONA 74 First half of Sixteenth Century. Royal Collection of Madrid VERTUMNUS AND POMONA 75 First half of Sixteenth Century. Royal Collection of Madrid TAPESTRIES FOR HEAD AND SIDE OF BED 76 Renaissance designs. Royal Collection of Madrid THE STORY OF REBECCA 77 Brussels Tapestry. Sixteenth Century. Collection of Arthur Astor Carey, Esq., Boston BRUSSELS TAPESTRY. LATE SIXTEENTH CENTURY 78 Weaver, Jacques Geubels. Institute of Art, Chicago MEETING OF ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA 79 Brussels Tapestry. Woven by Gerard van den Strecken. Cartoon attributed to Rubens THE ANNUNCIATION (_Coloured Plate_) 82 Italian Tapestry. Fifteenth Century. Collection of Martin A. Ryerson, Esq., Chicago ITALIAN TAPESTRY, MIDDLE OF SIXTEENTH CENTURY 84 Cartoon by Bacchiacca. Woven by Nicholas Karcher ITALIAN TAPESTRY. MIDDLE OF SIXTEENTH CENTURY 85 Cartoon by Bacchiacca. Woven by G. Rost ITALIAN VERDURE. SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 86 THE FINDING OF MOSES 90 Gobelins, Seventeenth Century. Cartoon after Poussin. The Louvre Museum TRIUMPH OF JUNO 91 Gobelins under Louis XIV TRIUMPH OF THE GODS (DETAIL) 94 Gobelins, Seventeenth Century TRIUMPH OF THE GODS (DETAIL) 95 Gobelins Tapestry GOBELINS BORDER (DETAIL) SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 98 CHILDREN GARDENING 99 After Charles Lebrun. Gobelins, Seventeenth Century. Château Henri Quatre, Pau CHILDREN GARDENING 102 After Charles Lebrun. Gobelins, Seventeenth Century. Château Henri Quatre, Pau GOBELINS GROTESQUE 103 Musée des Arts Decoratifs, Paris GOBELINS TAPESTRY, AFTER LEBRUN, EPOCH LOUIS XIV 104 Collection of Wm. Baumgarten, Esq., New York THE VILLAGE FÊTE 105 Gobelins Tapestry after Teniers DESIGN BY RUBENS 110 DESIGN BY RUBENS 111 DESIGN BY RUBENS 112 GOBELINS TAPESTRY. DESIGN BY RUBENS 113 Royal Collection, Madrid LOUIS XIV VISITING THE GOBELINS FACTORY 114 Gobelins Tapestry, Epoch Louis XIV GOBELINS TAPESTRY. TIME OF LOUIS XV 126 HUNTS OF LOUIS XV 130 Gobelins, G. Audran after Cartoon by Oudry ESTHER AND AHASUERUS SERIES 131 Gobelins, about 1730. Cartoon by J. F. de Troy; G. Audran, weaver CUPID AND PSYCHE 132 Gobelins Tapestry. Eighteenth Century. Design by Coypel PORTRAIT OF CATHERINE OF RUSSIA 133 Gobelins under Louis XVI. CHAIR OF TAPESTRY. STYLE OF LOUIS XV 136 GOBELINS TAPESTRY (DETAIL) CRAMOISÉE. STYLE LOUIS XV 137 HENRI IV BEFORE PARIS 146 Beauvais Tapestry, Seventeenth Century. Design by Vincent HENRI IV AND GABRIELLE D'ESTRÉES 147 Design by Vincent BEAUVAIS TAPESTRY. EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 148 Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York BEAUVAIS TAPESTRY. TIME OF LOUIS XVI 149 Collection of Wm. Baumgarten, Esq., New York BEAUVAIS TAPESTRY. TIME OF LOUIS XIV 150 BEAUVAIS TAPESTRY 152 CHAIR COVERING 153 Beauvais Tapestry. First Empire SAVONNERIE. PORTRAIT SUPPOSABLY OF LOUIS XV 162 Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York VULCAN AND VENUS SERIES. MORTLAKE 163 Collection of Philip Hiss, Esq., New York VULCAN AND VENUS SERIES. MORTLAKE 168 Collection of Philip Hiss, Esq., New York VULCAN AND VENUS SERIES. MORTLAKE 169 Collection of Philip Hiss, Esq., New York THE EXPULSION OF VULCAN FROM OLYMPUS (_Coloured Plate_) 170 WEAVER AT WORK ON LOW LOOM. HERTER STUDIO 228 SEWING AND REPAIR DEPARTMENT. BAUMGARTEN ATELIERS 229 BAUMGARTEN TAPESTRY. LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY 230 BAUMGARTEN TAPESTRY. MODERN CARTOON 231 BAUMGARTEN TAPESTRY. MODERN CARTOON 234 BAYEUX TAPESTRY. (DETAIL) 1066 242 BAYEUX TAPESTRY. (DETAIL) 1066 243 BAYEUX TAPESTRY. (DETAIL) 1066 244 MODERN AMERICAN TAPESTRY, LOUIS XV INSPIRATION 250 MODERN AMERICAN TAPESTRY FROM FRENCH INSPIRATION 251 GOBELINS TAPESTRY. LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY 252 Luxembourg, Paris GOBELINS TAPESTRY. LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY 253 Pantheon, Paris THE ADORATION 256 Merton Abbey Tapestry. Figures by Burne-Jones DAVID INSTRUCTING SOLOMON IN THE BUILDING OF THE TEMPLE 257 Merton Abbey Tapestry. Burne-Jones, Artist TRUTH BLINDFOLDED 258 Merton Abbey Tapestry. Byram Shaw, Artist THE PASSING OF VENUS 260 Merton Abbey Tapestry. Cartoon by Burne-Jones ANGELI LAUDANTES 261 Merton Abbey Tapestry AMERICAN (BAUMGARTEN) TAPESTRY COPIED FROM THE GOTHIC 262 DRYADS AND FAUNS 263 From Herter Looms, New York, 1910 THE TAPESTRY BOOK CHAPTER I A FOREWORD The commercial fact that tapestries have immeasurably increased in value within the last five years, would have little interest were it not that this increase is the direct result of America's awakened appreciation of this form of art. It has come about in these latter days that tapestries are considered a necessity in the luxurious and elegant homes which are multiplying all over our land. And the enormous demand thus made on the supply, has sent the prices for rare bits into a dizzy altitude, and has made even the less perfect pieces seem scarce and desirable. The opinion of two shrewd men of different types is interesting as bearing on the subject of tapestries. One with tastes fully cultivated says impressively, "Buy good old tapestries whenever you see them, for there are no more." The other says bluffly, "Tapestries? You can't touch 'em. The prices have gone way out of sight, and are going higher every day." The latter knows but one view, the commercial, yet both are right, and these two views are at the bottom of the present keen interest in tapestries in our country. Outside of this, Europe has collections which we never can equal, and that thought alone is enough to make us snatch eagerly at any opportunity to secure a piece. We may begin with our ambition set on museum treasures, but we can come happily down to the friendly fragments that fit our private purses and the wall-space by the inglenook. Tapestries are not to be bought lightly, as one buys a summer coat, to throw aside at the change of taste or circumstance. They demand more of the buyer than mere money; they demand that loving understanding and intimate appreciation that exists between human friends. A profound knowledge of tapestries benefits in two ways, by giving the keenest pleasure, and by providing the collector--or the purchaser of a single piece--with a self-protection that is proof against fraud, unconscious or deliberate. The first step toward buying must be a bit of pleasant study which shall serve in the nature of self-defence. Not by books alone, however, shall this subject be approached, but by happy jaunts to sympathetic museums, both at home and abroad, by moments snatched from the touch-and-go talk of afternoon tea in some friend's salon or library, or by strolling visits to dealers. These object lessons supplement the book, as a study of entomology is enlivened by a chase for butterflies in the flowery meads of June, or as botany is made endurable by lying on a bank of violets. All work and no play not only makes Jack a dull boy, but makes dull reading the book he has in hand. The tale of tapestry itself carries us back to the unfathomable East which has a trick at dates, making the Christian Era a modern epoch, and making of us but a newly-sprung civilisation in the history of the old grey world. After showing us that the East pre-empted originality for all time, the history of tapestry lightly lifts us over a few centuries and throws us into the romance of Gothic days, then trails us along through increasing European civilisation up to the great awakening, the Renaissance. Then it loiters in the pleasant ways of the kings of France during the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries, and finally falls upon modern effort, not limited to Europe now, but nesting also in the New World which is especially our own. Tapestry, according to the interpretation of the word used in this book, is a pictured cloth, woven by an artist or a talented craftsman, in which the design is an integral part of the fabric, and not an embroidery stitched on a basic tissue. With this flat statement the review of tapestries from antiquity until our time may be read without fear of mistaking the term. THE LOOM The looms on which tapestries are made are such as have been known as long as the history of man is known, but we have come to call them high-warp and low-warp, or as the French have it, _haute lisse_ and _basse lisse_. In the celebrated periods of weaving the high loom has been the one in use, and to it is accredited a power almost mysterious; yet the work of the two styles of loom are not distinguishable by the weave alone, and it is true that the low-warp looms were used in France when the manufacture of tapestries was permanently established by the Crown about 1600. So difficult is it to determine the work of the two looms that weavers themselves could not distinguish without the aid of a red thread which they at one time wove in the border. Yet because the years of the highest perfection in tapestries have been when the high loom was in vogue, some peculiar power is supposed to reside within it. That the high movements of the fine arts have been contemporary with perfection in tapestries, seems not to be taken into consideration. NECESSARY FRENCH TERMS French terms belong so much to the art of tapestry weaving that it is hard to find their English equivalent. Tapestries of _verdure_ and of _personnages_ describe the two general classes, the former being any charming mass of greenery, from the Gothic _millefleurs_, and curling leaves with animals beneath, to the lovely landscapes of sophisticated park and garden which made Beauvais famous in the Eighteenth Century. _Tapisseries des personnages_ have, as the name implies, the human figure as the prominent part of the design. The shuttle or bobbin of the high loom is called a _broche_, and that of the low loom a _flute_. Weavers throughout Europe, whether in the Low Countries or in France, were called _tapissiers_, and this term was so liberal as to need explaining. WORKERS' FUNCTIONS The tapestry factory was under the guidance of a director; under him were the various persons required for the work. Each tapestry woven had a directing artist, as the design was of primary importance. This man had the power to select the silks and wools for the work, that they might suit his eye as to colour. But there was also a _chef d'atelier_ who was an artist weaver, and he directed this matter and all others when the artist of the cartoons was not present. Under him were the tapissiers who did the actual weaving, and under these, again, were the apprentices, who began as boys and served three years before being allowed to try their hands at a "'prentice job" or essay at finished work. WEAVERS The word weaver means so little in these days that it is necessary to consider what were the conditions exacted of the weavers of tapestries in the time of tapestry's highest perfection. A tapissier was an artist with whom a loom took place of an easel, and whose brush was a shuttle, and whose colour-medium was thread instead of paints. This places him on a higher plane than that of mere weaver, and makes the term tapissier seem fitter. Much liberty was given him in copying designs and choosing colours. In the Middle Ages, when the Gothic style prevailed, the master-weaver needed often no other cartoon for his work than his own sketches enlarged from the miniatures found in the luxurious missals of the day. These historic books were the luxuries of kings, were kept with the plate and jewels, so precious were considered their exquisitely painted scenes in miniature. From them the master-weaver drew largely for such designs as _The Seven Deadly Sins_ and other "morality" subjects. Master-weavers were many in the best years of tapestry weaving; indeed, a man must have attained the dignity and ability of that position before being able to produce those marvels of skill which were woven between 1475 and 1575 in Flanders, France and Italy. Their aids, the apprentices, pique the fancy, as Puck harnessed to labour might do. They were probably as mischievous, as shirking, as exasperating as boys have ever known how to be, but those little unwilling slaves of art in the Middle Ages make an appeal to the imagination more vivid than that of the shabby lunch-box boy of to-day. DYERS Accessory to the weavers, and almost as important, were the dyers who prepared the thread for use. The conscientiousness of their work cries out for recognition when the threads they dyed are almost unaltered in colour after five hundred years of exposure to their enemies, light and air. Dye stuffs were precious in those days, and so costly that even threads of gold and silver (which in general were supplied by the client ordering the tapestry) hardly exceeded in value certain dyed wools and silk. All of these workers, from director down to apprenticed lad, were bound by the guild to do or not do, according to its infinite code, to the end that the art of tapestry-making be held to the highest standards. The laws of the guilds make interesting reading. The guild prevailed all over Europe and regulated all crafts. In Florence even to-day evidences of its power are on every side, and the Guildhall in London attests its existence there. Moreover, the greatest artists belonged to the guilds, uniting themselves usually by work of the goldsmith, as Benvenuto Cellini so quaintly describes in his naïve autobiography. GUILDS It was these same protective laws of the guilds that in the end crippled the hand of the weaver. The laws grew too many to comply with, in justice to talent, and talent with clipped wings could no longer soar. At the most brilliant period of tapestry production Flanders was to the fore. All Europe was appreciating and demanding the unequalled products of her ateliers. It was but human to want to keep the excellence, to build a wall of restrictions around her especial craft that would prevent rivals, and at the same time to press the ateliers to execute all the orders that piled in toward the middle of the Sixteenth Century. But although the guilds could make wise laws and enforce them, it could not execute in haste and retain the standard of excellence. And thus came the gradual decay of the art in Brussels, a decay which guild-laws had no power to arrest. GOTHIC PERIOD The first period in tapestries which interests--except the remnants of Egyptian and aboriginal work--is that of the Middle Ages, the early Gothic, because that is when the art became a considerable one in Europe. It is a time of romance, of chivalry, of deep religious feeling, and yet seems like the childhood of modernity. Is it the fault of crudity in pictorial art, or the fault of romances that we look upon those distant people as more elemental than we, and thus feel for them the indulgent compassion that a child excites? However it is, theirs is to us a simple time of primitive emotion and romance, and the tapestries they have left us encourage the whim. The time of Gothic perfection in tapestry-making is included in the few years lying between 1475 and 1520. Life was at that time getting less difficult, and art had time to develop. It was no longer left to monks and lonely ladies, in convent and castle, but was the serious consideration of royalty and nobility. No need to dwell on the story of modern art, except as it affects the art of tapestry weaving. With the improvement of drawing that came in these years, a greater excellence of weave was required to translate properly the meaning of the artist. The human face which had hitherto been either blank or distorted in expression, now required a treatment that should convey its subtlest shades of expression. Gifted weavers rose to the task, became almost inspired in the use of their medium, and produced such works of their art as have never been equalled in any age. These are the tapestries that grip the heart, that cause a _frisson_ of joy to the beholder. And these are the tapestries we buy, if kind chance allows. If they cannot be ours to live with, then away to the museum in all haste and often, to feast upon their beauties. RENAISSANCE That great usurper, the Renaissance, came creeping up to the North where the tapestry looms were weaving fairy webs. Pope Pius X wanted tapestries, those of the marvellous Flemish weave. But he wanted those of the new style of drawing, not the sweet restraint and finished refinement of the Gothic. Raphael's cartoons were sent to Brussels' workshops, and thus was the North inoculated with the Renaissance, and thus began the second phase of the supreme excellency of Flemish tapestries. It was the Renaissance expressing itself in the wondrous textile art. The weavers were already perfect in their work, no change of drawing could perplex them. But to their deftness with their medium was now added the rich invention of the Italian artists of the Renaissance, at the period of perfection when restraint and delicacy were still dominant notes. It was the overworking of the craft that led to its decadence. Toward the end of the Sixteenth Century the extraordinary period of Brussels perfection had passed. But tapestry played too important a part in the life and luxury of those far-away centuries for its production to be allowed to languish. The magnificence of every great man, whether pope, king or dilettante, was ill-expressed before his fellows if he were not constantly surrounded by the storied cloths that were the indispensable accessories of wealth and glory. Palaces and castles were hung with them, the tents of military encampments were made gorgeous with their richness, and no joust nor city procession was conceivable without their colours flaunting in the sun as background to plumed knights and fair ladies. Venice looked to them to brighten her historic stones on days of carnival, and Paris spread them to welcome kings. FRANCE When, therefore, Brussels no longer supplied the tissues of her former excellence, opportunity came for some other centre to rise. The next important producer was Paris, and in Paris the art has consistently stayed. Other brief periods of perfection have been attained elsewhere, but Paris once establishing the art, has never let it drop, not even in our own day--but that is not to be considered at this moment. Divers reigns of divers kings, notably that of Henri IV, fostered the weaving of tapestry and brought it to an interesting stage of development, after which Louis XIV established the Gobelins. From that time on for a hundred years France was without a rival, for the decadent work of Brussels could not be counted as such. Although the work of Italy in the Seventeenth Century has its admirers, it is guilty of the faults of all of Italy's art during the dominance of Bernini's ideals. AMERICAN INTEREST America is too late on the field to enter the game of antiquity. We have no history of this wonderful textile art to tell. But ours is the power to acquire the lovely examples of the marvellous historied hangings of other times and of those nations which were our forebears before the New World was discovered. And we are acquiring them from every corner of Europe where they may have been hiding in old château or forgotten chest. To the museums go the most marvellous examples given or lent by those altruistic collectors who wish to share their treasures with a hungry public. But to the mellow atmosphere of private homes come the greater part of the tapestries. To buy them wisely, a smattering of their history is a requisite. Within the brief compass of this book is to be found the points important for the amateur, but for a profounder study he must turn to those huge volumes in French which omit no details. Not entirely by books can he learn. Association with the objects loved, counts infinitely more in coming to an understanding. Happy he who can make of tapestries the _raison d'être_ for a few months' loitering in Europe, and can ravish the eye and intoxicate the imagination with the storied cloths found hanging in England, in France, in Spain, in Italy, in Sweden, and learn from them the fascinating tales of other men's lives in other men's times. Then, when the tour is finished and a modest tapestry is hung at home, it represents to its instructed owner the concentrated tale of all he has seen and learned. In the weave he sees the ancient craftsman sitting at his loom. In the pattern is the drawing of the artist of the day, in the colours, the dyes most rare and costly; in the metal, the gold and silver of a duke or prince; and in the tale told by the figures he reads a romance of chivalry or history, which has the glamour given by the haze of distant time to human action. To enter a house where tapestries abound, is to feel oneself welcomed even before the host appears. The bending verdure invites, the animated figures welcome, and at once the atmosphere of elegance and cordiality envelopes the happy visitor. To live in a house abundantly hung with old tapestries, to live there day by day, makes of labour a pleasure and of leisure a delight. It is no small satisfaction in our work-a-day life to live amidst beauty, to be sure that every time the eyes are raised from the labour of writing or sewing--or of bridge whist, if you like--they encounter something worthy and lovely. In the big living-room of the home, when the hours come in which the family gathers, on a rainy morning, or on any afternoon when the shadows grow grim outside and the afternoon tea-tray is brought in whispering its discreet tune of friendly communion, the tapestries on the walls seem to gather closer, to enfold in loving embrace the sheltered group, to promise protection and to augment brotherly love. In the dining-room the glorious company assembles, so that he who eats therein, attends a feast on Olympus, even though the dyspeptic's fast be his lot. If the eyes gaze on Coypel's gracious ladies, under fruit and roses, with adolescent gods adoring, what matters if the palate is chastised? In a dining-room soft-hung with piquant scenes, even buttermilk and dog-biscuit, burnt canvasback and cold Burgundy lose half their bitterness. When night is well started in its flight, perhaps one only, one lover of the silence and the solitude, loath to give away to soft sleep the quiet hours, this one remains behind when all the others have flown bedward, and to him the neighbouring tapestries speak a various language. From the easy chair he sees the firelight play on the verdure with the effect of a summer breeze, the gracious foliage all astir. The figures in this enchanted wood are set in motion and imagination brings them into the life of the moment, makes of them sympathetic playmates coaxing one to love, as they do, the land of romance. Before their imperturbable jocundity what bad humour can exist? All the old songs of mock pastoral times come singing in the ears, "It happened on a day, in the merry month of May," "Shepherds all and maidens fair," "It was a lover and his lass," "Phoebus arise, and paint the skies," _et cetera_. Animated by the fire, in the silence of the winter night the loving horde gathers and ministers to the mind afflicted with much hard practicality and the strain of keeping up with modern inexorable times. This sweet procession on the walls, thanks be to lovely art, needs no keeping up with, merely asks to scatter joy and to soften the asperities of a too arduous day. All the way up the staircase in the house of tapestries are dainty bits of _millefleurs_, that Gothic invention for transferring a block of the spring woods from under the trees into a man-made edifice. It may have a deep indigo background or a dull red--like the shades of moss or like last year's fallen leaves--but over it all is abundantly sprinkled dainty bluebells, anemones, daisies, all the spring beauties in joyous self-assertion and happy mingling. With such flowery guides to mark the way the path to slumberland is followed. Once within the bedroom, the poppies of the hangings spread drowsy influence, and the happy sleeper passes into unconsciousness, passes through the flowered border of the ancient square, into the scene beyond, becomes one of those storied persons in the enchanted land and lives with them in jousts and tourneys or in _fêtes champêtres_ at lovely châteaux. The magic spell of the house of tapestries has fallen like the dew from heaven to bless the striver in our modern life of exigency and fatigue. [Illustration: CHINESE TAPESTRY Chien Lung Period] [Illustration: COPTIC TAPESTRY About 300 A. D.] CHAPTER II ANTIQUITY Egypt and China, India and Persia, seem made to take the conceit from upstart nations like those of Europe and our own toddling America. Directly we scratch the surface and look for the beginning of applied arts, the lead takes us inevitably to the oldest civilisation. It would seem that in a study of fabrics which are made in modern Europe, it were enough to find their roots in the mediæval shades of the dark ages; but no, back we must go to the beginning of history where man leaped from the ambling dinosaur, which then modestly became extinct, and looking upon the lands of the Nile and the Yangtsi-kiang found them good, and proceeded to pre-empt all the ground of applied arts, so that from that time forward all the nations of the earth were and are obliged to acknowledge that there is nothing new under the sun. In the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York is a bit of tapestry, Coptic, that period where Greek and Egyptian drawing were intermixed, a woman's head adorned with much vanity of head-dress, woven two or three centuries after Christ. (Plate facing page 15.) In the Boston Museum of Fine Arts are other rare specimens of this same time. (Plates facing pages 16 and 17.) Looking further back, an ancient decoration shows Penelope at her high loom, four hundred years before the Christian era; and one, still older, shows the Egyptians weaving similarly three thousand years before that epoch. It is not altogether thrilling to read that civilised people of ancient times wove fabrics for dress and decoration, but it certainly is interesting to learn that they were masters of an art which we carelessly attribute to Europe of six centuries back, and to find that the weaving apparatus and the mode of work were almost identical. The Coptic tapestry of the Third Century is woven in the same manner as the tapestries that come to us from Europe as the flower of comparatively recent times, and its dyes and treatment of shading are identical with the Gothic times. Penelope's loom as pictured on an ancient vase, is the same in principle as the modern high-warp loom, although lacking a bit in convenience to the weaver; and so we can easily imagine the lovely lady at work on her famous web, "playing for time," during Ulysses' absence, when she sat up o' nights undoing her lovely stint of the day. And the Egyptian loom shown in ancient pictures--that is even more modern than Penelope's, although it was set up three thousand years before, a last guide-post on the backward way to the misty land called prehistoric. But as there is really little interest except for the archeologist in digging so far into the past for an art that has left us but traditions and museum fragments, let us skim but lightly the surface of this time, only picking up the glistening facts that attract the mind's eye, so that we may quickly reach the enchanted land of more recent times which yet appear antique to the modern. [Illustration: COPTIC TAPESTRY Boston Museum of Fine Arts] [Illustration: COPTIC TAPESTRY Boston Museum of Fine Arts] There are those to whom reading the Bible was a forced task during childhood, a class which slipped the labour as soon as years gave liberty of choice. There are others who have always turned as naturally to its accounts of grand ceremony and terrible battles as to the accounts of Cæsar, Coeur de Lion, Charlemagne. But in either case, whatever the reason for the eye to absorb these pages of ancient Hebrew history, the impression is gained of superb pomp. And always concerned with it are descriptions of details, lovingly impressed, as though the chronicler was sure of the interest of his audience. In this enumeration, decorative textiles always played a part. Such textiles as they were exceed in extravagance of material any that we know of European production, for in many cases they were woven entirely of gold and silver, and even set with jewels. These gorgeous fabrics shone like suns on the magnificent pomp of priest and ruler, and declared the wealth and power of the nation. They departed from the original intention of protecting shivering humanity from chill draughts or from close and cold association with the stones of architectural construction, and became a luxury of the eye, a source of bewilderment to the fancy and a lively intoxication to those who--irrespective of class, or of century--love to compute display in coin. But, dipping into the history of one ancient country after another, it is easy to see that the usual fabric for hanging was woven of wool, of cotton and of silk, and carried the design in the weaving. Babylon the great, Egypt under the Pharaohs, Greece in its heroic times, Rome under the Emperors--not omitting China and India of the Far East--these countries of ancient peoples all knew the arts of dyeing and weaving, of using the materials that we employ, and of introducing figures symbolic, geometric, or realistic into the weaving. Beyond a doubt the high loom has been known to man since prehistoric times. It may be discouraging to those who like to feel that tapestry properly belongs to Europe only,--Europe of the last six centuries--to find that the art has been sifted down through the ages; but in reality it is but one more link between us and the centuries past, the human touch that revivifies history, that unites humanity. People of the past wear a haze about them, are immovable and rigid as their pictured representations. The Assyrian is to us a huge man of impossible beard, the Egyptian is a lean angle fixed in posture, the Greek is eternally posed for the sculptor. But once we can find that these people were not forever transfixed to frieze, but were as simple, as industrious, as human as we, the kinship is established, and through their veins begins to flow the stream that is common to all humanity. These people felt the same need for elegantly covering the walls of their homes that we in this country of new homes feel, and the craftsmen led much the same lives as do craftsmen of to-day. Even in the matter of expense, of money which purchasers were willing to spend for woven decorative fabrics, we see no novelty in the high prices of to-day, the Twentieth Century. _The Mantle of Alcisthenes_ is celebrated for having been bought by the Carthaginians for the equal of a hundred thousand dollars. [Illustration: TAPESTRY FOUND IN GRAVES IN PERU Date prior to Sixteenth Century] Thus we connect ourselves with the remote past in making a continuous history. But as the purpose of this book is to assist the owner of tapestries to understand the story of his hangings and to enable the purchaser or collector to identify tapestries on his own knowledge instead of through the prejudiced statements of the salesman, it is useless to dwell long upon the fabrics that we can only see through exercise of the imagination or in disintegrated fragments in museums. Then away with Circe and her leisure hours of weaving, with Helen and her heroic canvas, and the army of grandiose Biblical folk, and let us come westward into Europe in short review of the textiles called tapestry which were produced from the early Christian centuries to the time of the Crusades, and thus will we approach more modern times. So far as known, high-warp weaving was not universally used in Europe in the first part of the Middle Ages. Whether plain or figured, most of the fabrics of that time that have come down to us for hangings or for clothing, are woven, with the decorative pattern executed by the needle on woven cloth. In Persia and neighbouring states, however, the high-warp loom was used.[1] Europe in the Middle Ages was a place so savage, so devastated by war and by neighbouring malice, that to consider it is to hear the clash of steel, to feel the pangs of hunger, to experience the fearsome chill of dungeons or moated castles. It was a time when those who could huddle in fortresses mayhap died natural deaths, but those who lived in the world were killed as a matter of course. Man was man's enemy and to be killed on sight. In such gay times of carnage, art is dead. Men there were who drew designs and executed them, for the _luxe_ of the eye is ever demanding, but the designs were timid and stunted and came far from the field of art. Fabrics were made and worn, no doubt, but when looms were like to be destroyed and the weavers with them, scant attention was given to refinements. By the time the Tenth Century was reached matters had improved. We come into the light of records. It is positively known that the town of Saumur, down in the lovely country below Tours, became the destination of a quantity of wall-hangings, carpets, curtains, and seat covers woven of wool. This was by order of the third Abbot Robert of the Monastery of St. Florent, one of those vigorous, progressive men whose initiative inspires a host. It is recorded that he also ordered two pieces of tapestry executed, not of wool exclusively, but with silk introduced, and in these the figures of the designs were the beasts that were then favourites in decoration and that still showed the influence of Oriental drawing. Before enumerating other authentic examples of early tapestries it is well to speak of the reason for their being invariably associated with the church. The impression left by history is that folk of those days must have been universally religious when not cutting each other in bits with bloody cutlass. The reason is, of course, that when poor crushed humanity began to revive from the devastating onslaughts of fierce Northern barbarians, it was with a timid huddling in monasteries, for there was found immunity from attack. The lord of the castle was forced to go to war or to resist attack in his castle, but the monastery was exempt from whatever conscription the times imposed, and frocked friars were always on hand were defence needed. Thus it came about that monasteries became treasure-houses, the only safe ones, were built strong, were sufficiently manned, and therefore were the safe-deposit of whatever articles of concentrated value the great lord of the Middle Ages might accumulate. Many tapestries thus deposited became gifts to the institution which gave them asylum. The arts and crafts of the Middle Ages were in the hands of the monasteries, monks and friars being the only persons with safety and leisure. Weaving fell naturally to them to execute as an art. In the castles, necessary weaving for the family was done by the women, as on every great lord's domains were artisans for all crafts; and great ladies emulated Penelope and Helen of old in passing their hours of patience and anxiety with fabricating gorgeous cloths. But these are exceptional, and deal with such grand ladies as Queen Matilda, who with her maidens embroidered (not wove) the Bayeux Tapestry, and with the Duchess Gonnor, wife of Richard First, who embroidered for the church of Notre Dame at Rouen a history of the Virgin and Saints.[2] To the monasteries must be given the honour of preserving this as many other arts, and of stimulating the laity which had wealth and power to present to religious institutions the best products of the day. The subjects executed inside the monastery were perforce religious, many revelling in the horrors of martyrology, and those intended as gifts or those ordered by the clergy were religious in subject for the sake of appropriateness. It is interesting to note the sweet childlike attitude of all lower Europe toward the church in these years, a sort of infantile way of leaving everything in its hands, all knowledge, all wisdom, all power. It was not even necessary to read or write, as the clergy conveniently concerned themselves with literacy. As late as the beginning of the Fifteenth Century Philip the Hardy, the great Duke of Burgundy, in ordering a tapestry, signed the order, not with his autograph, for he could not, but with his mark, for he, too, left pen-work to the clerks of the church. That pile of concentrated royal history, the old abbey of St. Denis, received, late in the Tenth Century, one of the evidences of royal patronage that every abbey must have envied. It was a woven representation of the world, as scientists of that day imagined our half-discovered planet, and was presented by Queen Adelaide, the wife of Hugh Capet, whose descendants reigned for three hundred years.[3] While dealing with records rather than with objects on which the eye can gaze and the hand can rest, note must be made of an order of a Count of Poitou, William V, to a factory for tapestries then existing in Poitiers, showing that the art of weaving had in that spot jumped the monastery walls in 1025.[4] The order was for a large hanging with subjects taken from the Scriptures, but given the then modern touch by introducing portraits of kings and emperors and their favourite animals transfixed in ways peculiar to the nature of the day. A century later, another Abbot of St. Florent in Saumur had hangings made important enough to be recorded. One of these represented the four and twenty elders of the Apocalypse with musical instruments, and other subjects taken from the Revelation of John. This subject was one of unending interest to the artists of that time who seemed to find in its depicting a serving of both God and imagination. Among the few tapestries of this period, those of the Cathedral at Halberstadt must be mentioned, partly by way of conscientious chronicling, partly that the interested traveller may, as he travels, know where to find the rare specimens of the hobby he is pursuing. This is a high-warp tapestry which authorities variously place as the product of the Eleventh or the Twelfth Centuries. Entirely regardless of its age, it has for us the charm of the craft of hands long vanished, and of primitive art in all its simplicity of artifice. The subject is religious--could hardly have been otherwise in those monastic days--and for church decoration, and to fit the space they were woven to occupy, each of the two parts was but three and a half feet high although more than fourteen yards long. Each important event recorded in history has its expression in the material product of its time, and this is one of the charms of studying the liberal arts. Tapestry more than almost any other handicraft has left us a pictured history of events in a time when records were scarce. The effect of the Crusades was noticeable in the impetus it gave to tapestry, not only by bringing Europe into fresh contact with Oriental design but by increasing the desire for luxurious stuffs. The returning crusaders--what traveller's tales did they not tell of the fabrics of the great Oriental sovereigns and their subjects, the soft rugs, the tent coverings, the gorgeous raiment; and these tales they illustrated with what fragments they could port in their travellers' packs. Here lay inspiration for a continent. FOOTNOTES: [1] Eugene Müntz, "History of Tapestry." [2] Jubinal, "Recherches," Vol. I. [3] F. Michel, "Recherches." [4] Jubinal, "Recherches." CHAPTER III MODERN AWAKENING In the Fourteenth Century, tapestry, the high-warp product, began to play an important part in the refinements of the day. We have seen the tendency of the past time to embellish and soften churches and monastic institutions with hangings. Records mostly in clerical Latin, speak of these as curtains for doorways, dossers for covering seats, and the backs of benches, and baldachins, as well as carpets for use on the floor. Subjects were ecclesiastic, as the favourite Apocalypse; or classic, like that of the Quedlimburg hanging which fantastically represents the marriage of Mercury and Philology. But in the Thirteenth Century the political situation had improved and men no longer slept in armour and women no longer were prepared to thrust all household valuables into a coffer on notice that the enemy was approaching over the plains or up the rocks. Therefore, homes began to be a little less rude in their comforts. Stone walls were very much the rule inside as well as out, but it became convenient then to cover their grim asperities with the woven draperies, the remains of which so interest us to-day, and which we in our accession of luxuriousness would add to the already gently finished apartments. To put ourselves back into one of those castle homes we are to imagine a room of stone walls, fitted with big iron hooks, on which hung pictured tapestry which reached all around, even covering the doors in its completeness. To admit of passing in and out the door a slit was made, or two tapestries joined at this spot. Set Gothic furniture scantily about such a room, a coffer or two, some high-backed chairs, a generous table, and there is a room which the art of to-day with its multiple ingenuity cannot surpass for beauty and repose. But such a room gave opportunity for other matters in the Thirteenth Century. Customs were less polite and morals more primitive. Important people desiring important information were given to the spying and eavesdropping which now has passed out of polite fashion. And those ancient rooms favoured the intriguer, for the hangings were suspended a foot or two away from the wall, and a man or a woman, for that matter, might easily slip behind and witness conversations to which the listener had not been invited. So it was customary on occasions of intimate and secret converse lightly to thrust a sharpened blade behind the curtains. If, as in the case in "Hamlet," the sword pierced a human quarry, so much the worse for the listener who thus gained death and lost its dignity. Before leaving this ancient chamber it is well to impress ourselves with the interesting fact that tapestries were originally meant to be suspended loosely, liberally, from the upper edge only, and to fall in folds or gentle undulations, thus gaining in decorative value and elegance. This practice had an important effect on the design, and also gave an appearance of movement to human figures and to foliage, as each swayed in light folds. When considering tapestries of the Thirteenth Century we are only contemplating the stones of history, for the actual products of the looms of that time are not for us; they are all gathered into museums, public or ecclesiastic. The same might be said of tapestries of the Fourteenth Century, and almost of the Fifteenth. But those old times are so full of romance, that their history is worth our toying with. It adds infinite joy to the possessing of old tapestries, and converts museum visits into a keen chase for the elusive but fascinating figures of the past. Let us then absorb willingly one or two dry facts. High-warp tapestry we have traced lightly from Egypt through Greece and Rome and, almost losing the thread in the Middle Ages, have seen it rising a virile industry, nursed in monasteries. It was when the stirrings of artistic life were commencing under the Van Eycks in the North and under Giotto and the Tuscans in the South that the weaving of tapestries reached a high standard of production and from that time until the Nineteenth Century has been an important artistic craft. The Thirteenth Century saw it started, the Fourteenth saw the beginnings of important factories, and the Fifteenth bloomed into full productions and beauty of the style we call Gothic. In these early times of the close of the Thirteenth Century and the beginning of the Fourteenth, the best known high-warp factories were centred in northern and midland provinces of France and Flanders, Paris and Arras being the towns most famed for their productions. As these were able to supply the rest of Europe, the skilled technique was lost otherwheres, so that later, when Italy, Germany and England wished to catch up again their ancient work, they were obliged to ask instruction of the Franco-Flemish high-warp workers.[5] It is not possible in the light of history for either Paris or Arras to claim the invention of so nearly a prehistoric art as that of high-warp tapestry, and there is much discussion as to which of these cities should be given the honour of superiority and priority in the work of the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries. Factories existed at both places and each had its rules of manufacture which regulated the workman and stimulated its excellence. The factories at Paris, however, were more given to producing copies of carpets brought from the East by returning crusaders, and these were intended for floors. The craftsmen were sometimes alluded to as _tapissiers Sarrazinois_, named, as is easily seen, after the Saracens who played so large a part in the adventurous voyages of the day. But in Paris in 1302, by instigation of the Provost Pierre le Jumeau, there were associated with these tapissiers or workmen, ten others, for the purpose of making high-warp tapestry, and these were bound with all sorts of oaths not to depart from the strict manner of proceeding in this valued handicraft. Indeed, the Articles of Faith, nor the Vows of the Rosicrucians, could not be more inviolable than the promises demanded of the early tapestry workers. In some cases--notably a factory of Brussels, Brabant, in the Sixteenth Century--there were frightful penalties attendant upon the breaking of these vows, like the loss of an ear or even of a hand. The records of the undertaking of the Provost Pierre le Jumeau in introducing the high-warp (_haute lisse_) workers into the factory where Sarrazinois and other fabrics were produced, means only that the improvement had begun, but not that Paris had never before practised an art so ancient. The name of Nicolas Bataille is one of the earliest which we can surround with those props of records that please the searcher for exact detail.[6] He was both manufacturer and merchant and was a man of Paris in the reign of Charles VI, a king who patronised him so well that the workshops of Paris benefited largely. The king's brother becoming envious, tried to equal him in personal magnificence and gave orders almost as large as those of the king. Philip the Hardy, uncle of the king, also employed this designer whose importance has not lessened in the descent of the centuries. What makes Bataille of special interest to us is that we cannot only read of him in fascinating chronicles as well as dry histories, but we can ourselves see his wondrous works. In the cathedral at Angers hangs a tapestry executed by him; it is a part of the _Apocalypse_ (favourite subject) drawn by Dourdin, who was artist of the cartoons as well as artist to Charles V. In those days the weaver occupied much the same place in relation to the cartoonist as the etcher does now to the painter. That is to say, that because the drawing was his inspiration, the weaver was none the less an artist of originality and talent. These celebrated hangings at Angers, although commenced in 1376 for Louis of Anjou, were not completed in all the series until 1490, therefore Bataille's work was on the first ones, finished on Christmas, 1379. The design includes imposing figures, each seated on a Gothic throne reading and meditating. The larger scenes are topped with charming figures of angels in primitive skies of the "twisted ribbon" style of cloud, angels whose duty and whose joy is to trump eternally and float in defiance of natural laws of gravitation. The museum at the Gobelins factory in Paris shows to wondering eyes the other authentic example of late Fourteenth Century high-warp tapestry, as woven in the early Paris workshops. It portrays with a lovely naïve simplicity _The Presentation in the Temple_. This with the pieces of the _Apocalypse_ at Angers are all that are positively known to have come from the Paris workshops of the late Fourteenth Century. History steps in with an event that crushed the industry in Paris. Just when design and execution were at their highest excellence, and production was prolific, political events began to annihilate the trade. The English King, Henry V, crossed the Channel and occupied Paris in 1422. Thus, under the oppression of the invaders, the art of tapestry was discouraged and fell by the way, not to rise lustily again in Paris for two hundred years. FOOTNOTES: [5] Eugene Müntz, "La Tapisserie." [6] For extensive reading see Guiffrey, "Nicolas Bataille, tapissier parisien," and "L'Histoire General de la Tapisserie," the section called "Les Tapisseries Francaises." CHAPTER IV FIFTEENTH CENTURY IN FRANCE AND FLANDERS Whether Arras began as early as Paris is a question better left unsettled if only for the sake of furnishing a subject of happy controversy between the champions of the two opinions. But certain it is that with fewer distractions to disturb her craftsmen, and under the stimulus of certain ducal and royal patrons, Arras succeeded in advancing the art more than did her celebrated neighbour. It was Arras, too, that gave the name to the fabric, a name which appears in England as arras and in Italy as arazzo, as though there was no other parent-region for the much-needed and much-prized stuffs than the busy Flemish town. Among the early records is found proof that in 1311, a countess of the province of Artois, of which Arras was the capital, bought a figured cloth in that city, and two years later ordered various works in high warp.[7] It is she who became ruler of the province. To patronise the busy town of her own domains, Arras, she ordered from there the hangings that were its specialty. Paris also shared her patronage. She took as husband Otho, Count of Burgundy, and set his great family the fashion in the way of patronising the tapestry looms. It was in the time of Charles V of France, that the Burgundian duke Philip, called the Hardy, began to patronise conspicuously the Arras factories. In 1393, as de Barante delightfully chronicles, the gorgeous equipments of this duke were more than amazing when he went to arrange peace with the English at Lelingien.[8] The town chosen for the pourparlers, wherein assembled the English dukes, Lancaster and Gloucester and their attendants, as well as the cortége attending the Duke of Burgundy, was a poor little village ruined by wars. The conferences were held by these superb old fighters and statesmen in an ancient thatched chapel. To make it presentable and worthy of the nobles, it was covered with tapestries which entirely hid the ruined walls. The subject of the superb pieces was a series of battles, which made the Duke of Lancaster whimsically critical of a subject ill-chosen for a peace conference, he suggesting that it were better to have represented "_la Passion de notre Seigneur_." Not satisfied with having the meeting place a gorgeous and luxurious temple, this Philip, Duke of Burgundy, demonstrated his magnificence in his own tent, which was made of wooden planks entirely covered with "toiles peintes" (authorities state that tapestries with personages were thus described), and was in form of a château flanked with towers. As a means of pleasing the English dukes and the principal envoys, Philip gave to them superb gifts of tapestries, the beautiful tapestries of Flanders such as were made only in the territory of the duke. It is interesting to note this authentic account of the importation of certain Arras tapestries into England. Subjects at this time introduced, besides Bible people, figures of Clovis and of Charlemagne. Two hangings represented, the one _The Seven Cardinal Vices_, with their conspicuous royal exponents in the shape of seven vicious kings and emperors; the other, _The Seven Cardinal Virtues_, with the royalties who had been their notable exponents. Here is a frank criticism on the lives of kings which smacks of latter-day democracy. All these tapestries were enriched with gold of Cyprus, as gold threads were called. This same magnificent Philip the Hardy, had other treaties to make later on, and seeing how much his tapestries were appreciated, continued to make presents of them. One time it was the Duke of Brittany who had to be propitiated, all in the interests of peace, peace being a quality much sought and but little experienced at this time in France. Perhaps this especial Burgundian duke had a bit of self-interest in his desire for amity with the English, for he was lord of the Comité of Artois (including Arras) and this was a district which, because of its heavy commerce with England, might favour that country. A large part of that commerce was wool for tapestry weaving, wool which came from the _prés salés_ of Kent, where to-day are seen the same meadows, salt with ocean spray and breezes, whereon flocks are grazing now as of old--but this time more for mutton chops than for tapestry wools. [Illustration: THE SACRAMENTS Arras Tapestry, about 1430. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York] The history of the Dukes of Burgundy, because their patronage was so stimulating to the factories of Flanders, leads us to recall the horrors of the war with Bajazet, the terrible Sultan of Turkey, and the way in which this cool monster bartered human lives for human luxuries. It was when the flower of France (1396) invaded his country and was in the power of his hand, that he had the brave company of nobles pass in review before his royal couch that he might see them mutilated to the death. Three or four only he retained alive, then sent one of these, the Sire de Helly, back to his France with _parole d'honneur_ to return--to amass, first, as big a ransom as could be raised; this, if in the Turk's demanding eyes it appeared sufficient, he would accept in exchange for the remaining unhappy nobles. Added to the money which de Helly was able to collect, were superb tapestries of Arras contributed by the Burgundian duke, Philip the Hardy. It was argued that of these luxurious hangings, Bajazet had none, for the looms of his country had not the craft to make tapestries of personages. Cloth of gold and of silver, considered an extreme elegance in France, they argued was no rarity to the terrible Turk, for it was from Damascus in his part of the world that this precious fabric came most plentifully. So de Helly took Arras tapestries into Turkey, a suite representing the history of Alexander the Great, and the avaricious monarch was persuaded by reason of this and other ransom to let his prisoners free.[9] After the death of Philip the Hardy in 1404, his accumulated luxuries had to be sold to help pay his fabulous debts. To this end his son sold, among other things, his superb tapestries, and thus they became distributed in Paris. And yet John without Fear, who succeeded Philip, continued to stimulate the Arras weavers. In 1409 he ordered five big hangings representing his victories of Liége, all battle subjects.[10] Philip the Good was the next head of the Burgundian house, and he it was who assisted in the sumptuous preparations for the entry of the king, Louis XI, into Paris. The king himself could scarcely equal in magnificence this much-jewelled duke, whose splendour was a matter of excitement to the populace. People ran to see him in the streets or to the church, to feast their eyes on his cortége, his mounted escort of a hundred knights who were themselves dukes, princes and other nobles. His house, in the old quarter of Paris, where we are wont to wander with a Baedeker veiled, was the wonder of all who were permitted to view its interior. Here he had brought his magnificent Arras tapestries and among them the set of the _History of Gideon_, which he had had made in honour of the order of the Golden Fleece founded by him at Bruges, in 1429, for, he said, the tale of Gideon was more appropriate to the Fleece than the tale of Jason, who had not kept his trust--a bit of unconventionalism appreciable even at this distance of time. Charles le Téméraire--the Bold or rather the foolhardy--how he used and lost his tapestries is of interest to us, because his possessions fell into a place where we can see them by taking a little trouble. Some of them are among the treasures in the museum at Nancy and at Berne in Switzerland. How they got there is in itself a matter of history, the history of a war between Burgundy and Switzerland. Like all the line of these half-barbaric, picturesque dukes, Charles could not disassociate himself from magnificence, which in those days took the place of comfort. When making war, he endeavoured to have his camp lodgment as near as possible reproduce the elegance of his home. In his campaign against Switzerland, his tent was entirely hung with the most magnificent of tapestries. After foolhardy onslaughts on a people whose strength he miscalculated, he lost his battles, his life--and his tapestries. And this is how certain Burgundian tapestries hang in the cathedral at Berne, and in the museums at Nancy.[11] The simple Swiss mountaineers, accustomed more to expediency than to luxury, are said to have been entirely ignorant of the value of their spoils of war. Tapestries they had never seen, nor had they the experienced eye to discern their beauties; but cloth, thick woollen cloth, that would protect shivering man from the cold, was a commodity most useful; so, many of the fine products of the high-warp looms that had augmented the pride of their noble possessor, found their way into shops and were sold to the Swiss populace in any desired length, according to bourgeois household needs, a length for a warm bed-cover, or a square for a table; and thus disappeared so many that we are thankful for the few whole hangings of that time which are ours to inspect, and which represent the best work of the day both from Arras and from Brussels, which was then (about 1476) beginning to produce. There is a special and local reason why we should be interested in the products of the high-warp tapestries in the time of the greatest power of the Dukes of Burgundy. It is that we can have the happy experience of studying, in our own country, a set of these hangings, and this without going farther than to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, where repose the set called _The Sacraments_. (Plates facing pages 34, 38 and 39.) There are in all seven pieces, although the grounds are well taken that the set originally included one more. They represent the four Sacraments of Baptism, Marriage, Confirmation and Extreme Unction, first by a series of ideal representations, then by the everyday ceremonies of the time--the time of Joan of Arc. Thus we have the early Fifteenth Century folk unveiled to us in their ideals and in their practicality. The one shows them to be religionists of a high order, the other reveals a sumptuous and elegant scale of living belonging to the nobility who made resplendent those early times. [Illustration: THE SACRAMENTS Arras Tapestry, about 1430] [Illustration: THE SACRAMENTS Arras Tapestry, about 1430] The drawing is full of simplicity and honesty, the composition limited to a few individuals, each one having its place of importance. In this, the early work differed from the later, which multiplied figures until whole groups counted no more than individuals. The background is a field of conventionalised fleur-de-lis of so large a pattern as not to interfere with the details thrown against it. Scenes are divided by slender Gothic columns, and other architectural features are tessellated floors and a sketchy sort of brick-work that appears wherever a limit-line is needed. It is the charming naïveté of its drawing that delights. Border there is none, but its lack is never felt, for the pictures are of such interest that the eye needs no barrier to keep it from wandering. Whatever border is found is a varying structure of architecture and of lettering and of the happy flowers of Gothic times which thrust their charm into all possible and impossible places. The dress, in the suite of ideals, is created by the imagining of the artist, admixed with the fashion of the day; but in scenes portraying life of the moment, we are given an interesting idea of how a bride à la mode was arrayed, in what manner a gay young lord dressed himself on his wedding morning, and how a young mother draped her proud brocade. The colouring is that of ancient stained glass, simple, rich, the gamut of colours limited, but the manner of their combining is infinite in its power to please. The conscientiousness of the ancient dyer lives after him through the centuries, and the fresh ruby-colour, the golden yellow of the large-figured brocades, glow almost as richly now as they did when the Burgundian dukes were marching up and down the land from the Mediterranean, east of France, to the coast of Flanders, carrying with them the woven pictures of their ideals, their religion and their conquests. The weave is smooth and even, speaking for the work of the tapissier or weaver, although time has distorted the faces beyond the lines of absolute beauty; and hatching accomplishes the shading. The repairer has been at work on this valuable set, not the intelligent restorer, but the frank bungler who has not hesitated to turn certain pieces wrong side out, nor to set in large sections obviously cut from another tapestry. It is surmised that the set contained one more piece--it would be regrettable, indeed, if that missing square had been cut up for repairs. The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York owns these tapestries through the altruistic generosity of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq. They are the most interesting primitive work which are on public view in our country, and awake to enthusiasm even the most insensate dullard, who has a half hour to stand before them and realise all they mean in art, in morals and in history. To the lives of the Prophets and Saints we can always turn; from the romance of men and women we can never turn away. And so when a Gothic tapestry is found that frankly omits Biblical folk and gives us a true picture of men and women of the almost impenetrable time back of the fifteen hundreds, tells us what they wore, in what manner they comported themselves, that tapestry has a sure and peculiar value. The surviving art of the Middle Ages smacks strong of saints, paints at full length the people of Moses' time, but unhappily gives only a bust of their contemporaries. [Illustration: FIFTEENTH CENTURY FRENCH TAPESTRY Boston Museum of Fine Arts] [Illustration: THE LIFE OF CHRIST Flemish Tapestry, second half of Fifteenth Century. Boston Museum of Fine Arts] Hangings portraying secular subjects were less often woven than those of religion and morals, but also the former have less lustily outlived the centuries, owing to the habit of tearing them from the suspending hooks and packing them about from château to château, to soften surroundings for the wandering visitor. Thus it comes that we have little tapestried record of a time when knights and ladies and ill-assorted attributes walked hand in hand, a time of chivalry and cruelty, of roses and war, of sumptuousness and crudity, of privation and indulgence, of simplicity and deceit. If prowling among old books has tempted the hand to take from the shelves one of those quaint luxuries known as a "Book of Hours," there before the eye lies the spirit of that age in decoration and design. There, too, lies much of the old spirit of morality--that, whether genuine or affected, was bound to be expressed. Morality had a vogue in those days, was a _sine qua non_ of fashion. That famous amateur Jean, duc de Berry, uncle of Charles VI of France, had such a book, "Les Très Riches Heures"; one was possessed by that gifted Milanese lady whom Ludovico Sforza put out of the line of Lombardy's throne. The wonderful Gothic ingenuousness lies in their careful paintings, the ingenuousness where virtue is expressed by beauty, and vice by ugliness, and where, with delightful seriousness, standing figures overtop the houses they occupy--the same people, the same battlements, we have seen on the early tapestries. Weavers must surely have consulted the lovely books of Gothic miniature, so like is the spirit of the designs to that in the Gothic fabrics. "The beauties of Agnes Sorel were represented on the wool," says Jubinal, "and she herself gave a superb and magnificent tapestry to the church at Loches," but this quaint student is doubtful if the lovely _amante du roi_ actually gave the tapestries that set forth her own beauties, which beauty all can see in the quiet marble as she lies sleeping with her spaniel curled up at her lovely feet in the big château on the Loire. By means of a rare set bought by the Rogers Fund for the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, we can see, if not the actual tapestries of fair Agnes Sorel, at least those of the same epoch and manner. This set is called _The Baillée des Roses_ and comprises three pieces, fragments one is inclined to call them, seeing the mutilations of the ages. (Plate facing page 42.) They were woven probably before 1450, probably in France, undoubtedly from French drawings, for the hand and eye of the artist were evidently under the influence of the celebrated miniaturist, Jean Fouquet of Tours. Childlike is the charm of this careful artist of olden times, childlike is his simplicity, his honesty, his care to retain the fundamental virtues of a good little boy who lives to the tune of Eternal Verities. These three tapestries of the Roses illustrate so well so many things characteristic of their day, that it is not time lost to study them with an eye to all their points. There is the weave, the wool, the introduction of metal threads, the colour scale; all these besides the design and the story it tells. The tapestries represent a custom of France in the time when Charles VII, the Indolent (and likewise through Jeanne d'Arc, the victorious) had as his favourite the fascinating Agnes Sorel. During the late spring, when the roses of France are in fullest flower, various peers of France had as political duty to present to each member of the Parliament a rose when the members answered in response to roll call. [Illustration: LA BAILLÉE DES ROSES French Tapestry, about 1450. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York] [Illustration: FIFTEENTH CENTURY MILLEFLEUR WITH ARMS Cathedral of Troyes] The great chamber where the body met was for the occasion transformed into a bower; vines and sprays of roses covered all the grim walls, as the straying vines in the tapestry reveal. The host of the day, who might be a foreign prince or cardinal, or one of the "children of France," began the day with giving a great breakfast which took place in the several chambers. During the feast the noble host paid a courtly visit to each chamber, accompanied by a servitor who bore a huge salver on which were the flowers and souvenirs to be presented. The air was sweet with blossoms and pungent herbs, music penetrated from the halls outside as the man of conspicuous elegance played mock humility and served all with the dainty tribute of a fragrant tender rose. This part of the ceremony over, the company moved on to the great audience chamber, where mass was said. Our tapestries show the figures of ladies and gentlemen present at this pretty ceremony--too pretty to associate with desperate Jeanne d'Arc, who at that very time was rousing France to war to throw off the foreign yoke. The ladies fair and masters bold are intensely human little people, for the most part paired off in couples as men and women have been wont to pair in gardens since Eden's time. They are dressed in their best, that is evident, and by their distant, courteous manners show good society. The faces of the ladies are childlike, dutiful; those of the men more determined, after the manner of men. But the interest of the set centres in the tableau wherein are but three figures, those of two men and a woman. Here lies a piquant romance. Who is she, the grand and gracious lady, bending like a lily stalk among the roses, with a man on either side? A token is being exchanged between her and the supplicant at her right. He, wholly elegant, half afraid, bends the knee and fixes her with a regard into which his whole soul is thrown. She, fair lady, is inclining, yet withdrawing, eyes of fear and modesty cast down. Yet whatever of temerity the faces tell, the hands are carrying out a comedy. Hid in the shadow of a copious hat, which the gentleman extends, lurks a rose; proffered by the lady's hand is a token--fair exchange, indeed, of lover's symbols--provided the strong, hard man to the left of the lady has himself no right of command over her and her favours. Thus might one dream on forever over history's sweets and romance's gallantries. It is across the sea, in the sympathetic Museum of Cluny that the beauty of early French work is exquisitely demonstrated. The set of _The Lady and the Unicorn_ is one of infinite charm. (Plates facing pages 44 and 45.) In its enchanted wood lives a noble lady tall and fair, lithe, young and elegant, with attendant maid and two faithful, fabulous beasts that uphold the standards of maidenhood. A simple circle denotes the boundary of the enchanted land wherein she dwells, a park with noble trees and lovely flowers, among which disport the little animals that associate themselves with mankind. For four centuries these hangings have delighted the eye of man, and are perhaps more than ever appreciated now. Certain it is that the art student's easel is often set before them for copying the quaint design and soft colour. [Illustration: THE LADY AND THE UNICORN French Tapestry, Fifteenth Century. Musée de Cluny, Paris] [Illustration: THE LADY AND THE UNICORN French Tapestry, Fifteenth Century. Musée de Cluny, Paris] As the early worker in wools could not forget the beauties of earth, the foreground of many Gothic tapestries is sprinkled with the loved common flowers of every day, of the field and wood. This is one of the charming touches in early tapestry, these little flowers that thrust themselves with captivating inappropriateness into every sort of scene. The grave and awesome figures in the _Apocalypse_ find them at their feet, and in scenes of battle they adorn the sanguinary sod and twinkle between fierce combatants. Occasionally a weaver goes mad about them and refuses to produce anything else but lily-bells newly sprung in June, cowslips and daisies pied, rosemary and rue, and all these in decorous courtesy on a deep, dark background like twilight on a bank or moonlight in a dell--and lo, we have the marvellous bit of nature-painting called _millefleurs_. A Burgundian tapestry that has come to this country to add to our increasing riches, is the large hanging known as _The Sack of Jerusalem_. (Plate facing page 46.) Almost more than any other it revivifies the ancient times of Philip the Hardy, John without Fear, and Charles the Bold, when these dukes, who were monarchs in all but name, were leading lives that make our own Twentieth Century fretting seem but the unrest of aspens. Such hangings as this, _The Sack of Jerusalem_, were those that the great Burgundian dukes had hung about their tents in battle, their castles in peace, their façades and bridges in fêtes. The subject chosen hints religion, but shouts bloodshed and battle. Those who like to feel the texture of old tapestries would find this soft and pliable, and in wondrous state of preservation. Its colours are warm and fresh, adhering to red-browns and brown-reds and a general mellow tone differing from the sharp stained-glass contrasts noticed in _The Sacraments_. Costumes show a naïve compromise between those the artist knew in his own time and those he guessed to appertain to the year of our Lord 70, when the scene depicted was actually occurring. The tapestry resembles in many ways the famous tapestries of the Duke of Devonshire which are known as the Hardwick Hall tapestries. In drawing it is similar, in massing, in the placing of spots of interest. This large hanging is a part of the collection at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. The Boston Museum of Fine Arts exhibits a primitive hanging which is probably woven in France, Northern France, at the end of the Fifteenth Century. (Plate facing page 40.) It represents, in two panels, the power of the church to drive out demons and to confound the heathen. Fault can be found with its crudity of drawing and weave, but tapestries of this epoch can hold a position of interest in spite of faults. [Illustration: THE SACK OF JERUSALEM (DETAIL) Burgundian Tapestry, about 1450. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York] A fine piece at the same museum is the long, narrow hanging representing scenes from the life of Christ, with a scene from Paradise to start the drama. (Plate facing page 41.) This tapestry, which is of great beauty, is subdivided into four panels by slender columns suggesting a springing arch which the cloth was too low to carry. All the pretty Gothic signs are here. The simple flowers upspringing, the Gothic lettering, the panelling, and a narrow border of such design as suggests rose-windows or other lace-like carving. Here is noticeable, too, the sumptuous brocades in figures far too large for the human form to wear, figures which diminished greatly a very few decades later. The Institute of Art, Chicago, possesses an interesting piece of the period showing another treatment of a similar subject. (Plate facing page 48.) In this the columns are omitted, the planes are increased, and there is an entire absence of the triptych or altar-piece style of drawing which we associate with the primitive artists in painting. We have seen in this slight review that Paris was in a fair way to cover the castle walls and floors of noble lords with her high loom and _sarrazinois_ products, when the English occupation ruined the prosperity of the weaver's guild. Arras supplied the enormous demand for tapestries through Europe, and made a lasting fame. But this little city, too, had to go down before the hard conditions of the Conqueror. Louis XI, in 1477, possessed himself of the town after the death of the last-famed Burgundian duke, Charles the Bold, and under his eccentric persecutions the guild of weavers scattered. He saw too late his mistake. But other towns benefited by it, towns whither the tapissiers fled with their art. There had also been much trouble between the last Duke of Burgundy and his Flemish cities. His extravagances and expeditions led him to make extraordinary demands upon one town and another for funds, and even to make war upon them, as at Liége, the battles of which conflict were perpetuated in tapestries. Let us trust that no Liégois weaver was forced to the humiliation of weaving this set. This disposition to work to his own ultimate undoing was encouraged in the duke, wherever possible, by the crafty Louis XI, who had his own reasons for wishing the downfall of so powerful a neighbour. And thus it came that Arras, the great tapestry centre, was at first weakened, then destroyed by the capture of the town by Louis XI immediately after the tragic death of the duke in 1477. Thus everything was favourable to the Brussels factories, which began to produce those marvels of workmanship that force from the world the sincerest admiration. It is frankly asserted that toward the end of the century, or more accurately, during the reigns of Charles VIII and Louis XII (1483-1515), tapestry attained a degree of perfection which has never been surpassed. [Illustration: SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF CHRIST, WITH ARMORIAL SHIELDS Flemish Tapestry, Fifteenth Century. Institute of Art, Chicago] [Illustration: HISTORY OF THE VIRGIN Angers Cathedral] We have a very clear idea of what use to make of tapestries in these days--to hang them in a part of the house where they will be much seen and much protected, on an important wall-space where their figures become the friend of daily life, or the bosky shades of their verdure invite to revery. They are extended flat against the wall, or even framed, that not one stroke of the artist's pencil or one flash of the weaver's shuttle be hid. But, many were their uses and grand were their purposes in the days when high-warp and low-warp weaving was the important industry of whole provinces. Palaces and castles were hung with them, but apart from this was the sumptuous use of a reserve of hangings for outdoor fêtes and celebrations of all sorts. These were the great opportunities for all to exhibit their possessions and to make a street look almost as elegant and habitable as the grandest chamber of the king. On the occasion of the entry of a certain queen into Paris, all the way from Porte St. Denis to the Cathedral of Notre Dame was hung with such specimens of the weaver's art as would make the heart of the modern amateur throb wildly. They were hung from windows, draped across the fronts of the houses, and fluttered their bright colours in the face of an illuminating sun that yet had no power to fade the conscientious work of the craftsman. The high lights of silk in the weave, and the enrichment of gold and silver in the pattern caught and held the sunbeams. In all the cavalcade of mounted knights and ladies, there was the flashing of arms, the gleam of jewelled bridles, the flaunting of rich stuffs, all with a background of unsurpassed blending of colour and texture. The bridge over the Seine leading to Notre Dame, its ramparts were entirely concealed, its asperities softened, by the tapestries which hung over its sides, making the passage over the river like the approach to a throne, the luxury of kings combined with the beauty of the flowing river, the blue sky, the tender green of the trees. Indeed, it was so lovely a sight that the king himself was not content to see it from his honoured but restricted post, but needs must doff his crown--monarchs wore them in those fairy days--and fling a leg over a gentleman's charger, behind its owner, and thus ride double to see the sights. So great was his eagerness to enjoy all the display that he got a smart reproof from an officer of ceremonies for trespassing.[12] When Louis XI was the young king, and had not yet developed the taste for bloodshed and torture that as a crafty fox he used later to the horror of his nation, he, too, had similar festivals with similar decorations. On one occasion the Pont des Changes was made the chief point in the royal progress through the streets of Paris. The bridge was hung with superb tapestries of great size, from end to end, and the king rode to it on a white charger, his trappings set with turquoise, with a gorgeous canopy supported over his head. Just as he reached the bridge the air became full of the music of singing birds, twenty-five hundred of them at that moment released, and all fluttering, darting, singing amid the gorgeous scene to tickle the fancy of a king. [Illustration: DAVID AND BATHSHEBA German Tapestry, about 1450] [Illustration: FLEMISH TAPESTRY. ABOUT 1500 Collection of Alfred W. Hoyt, Esq.] FOOTNOTES: [7] Canon de Haisnes, "La Tapisserie." [8] M. de Barante, "Histoire des Ducs de Bourgogne." [9] Froissart, manuscript of the library of Dijon. [10] De Barante, "Histoire." [11] See M. Pinchart, "Roger van der Weyden et les Tapisseries de Berne." [12] Enguerrand de Monstrelet, "Chronicles." CHAPTER V HIGH GOTHIC The wonderful time of the Burgundian dukes is gone; Charles le Téméraire leaves the world at Nancy, where the pitying have set up a cross in memory of his unkingly death, and where the lover of things Gothic may wander down a certain way to the exquisite portico of the Ducal Palace and, entering, find the Gothic room where the duke's precious tapestries are hung. In this sympathetic atmosphere one may dream away hours in sheer joy of association with these shadowy hosts of the past, the relentless slayers in the battle scenes, relentless moralists in the religious subjects--for morality plays had a parallel in the morality tapestry, issuing such rigid warnings to those who make merry as is seen in _The Condemnation of Suppers and Banquets_, _The Reward of Virtue_, _The Triumph of Right_, _The Horrors of the Seven Deadly Sins_, all of which were popular subjects for the weaver. With the artists who might be called primitives we have almost finished in the end of the Fifteenth Century. The simplicity of the very early weavers passed. They were content with comparatively few figures, and these so strongly treated that in composition one scarce took on more importance than another. When Arras and other Flemish towns, as well as Paris and certain French towns, developed the industry and employed more ambitious artists, the designs became more crowded, and the tendency was to multiply figures in an effort to crowd as many as possible into the space. When architecture appeared in the design, towers and battlements were crowded with peeping heads in delightful lack of proportion, and forests of spears springing from platoons of soldiers, filled almost the entire height of the cloth. The naïve fashion still existed of dressing the characters of an ancient Biblical or classic drama in costumes which were the mode of the weaver's time, disregarding the epoch in which the characters actually lived. An adherence to the childlike drawing of the early workers continues noticeable in their quaint way of putting many scenes on one tapestry. Interiors are readily managed, by dividing--as in _The Sacraments_ set in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York--with slender Gothic columns, than which nothing could be prettier, especially when framed in at the top with the Gothic arch. In outdoor scenes the frank disregard of the probable adds the charm of audacity. Side by side with a scene of carnage, a field of blood with victims lying prone, is inserted an island of flowers whereon youths and dogs are pleasantly sporting; and adjoining that may be another section cunningly introduced where a martyred woman is enveloped in flames which spring from the ground around her as naturally as grass in springtime. [Illustration: DAVID AND BATHSHEBA Flemish Tapestry, late Fifteenth Century] [Illustration: HISTORY OF ST. STEPHEN Arras Tapestry, Fifteenth Century] And flowers, flowers everywhere. Those little blossoms of the Gothic with their perennial beauty, they are one of the smiles of that far time that shed cheer through the centuries. They are not the grandiose affairs of the Renaissance whose voluptuous development contains the arrogant assurance of beauty matured. They do not crown a column or trail themselves in foliated scrolls; but are just as Nature meant them to be, unaffected bits of colour and grace, upspringing from the sod. In the cathedral at Berne is a happy example of the use of these sweet flowers, as they appear at the feet of the sacred group, and as they carry the eye into the sky by means of the feathery branches like fern-fronds which tops the scene; but we find them nearer home, in almost every Gothic tapestry. It was about the end of the last Crusade when Italy began to produce the inspired artists who broke the bonds of Byzantine traditions and turned back to the inspiration of all art, which is Nature. Giotto, tending his sheep, began to draw pictures of things as he saw them, Savonarola awoke the conscience, Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio--a string of names to conjure with--all roused the intellect. The dawn of the Renaissance flushed Europe with the life of civilisation. But before the wonderful development of art through the reversion to classic lines, came a high perfection of the style called Gothic, and with that we are pleased to deal first. It is so full of beauty to the eye and interest to the intellect that sometimes we must be dragged away from it to regard the softer lines of later art, with the ingratitude and reluctance of childhood when torn from its fairy tales to read of real people in the commonplace of every day. We are now in the time when the perfection of production was reached in the tapestries we call Gothic. Artists had grown more certain of their touch in colour and design, and weavers worked with such conscientious care as is now almost unknown, and produced a quality of tapestry superior to that of their forebears. The Fifteenth Century and the first few years of the Sixteenth were spent in perfecting the style of the preceding century, and so great was the perfection reached, that it was impossible to develop further on those lines. It must not be supposed from their importance that Brussels and Bruges were the sole towns of weavers. There were many high-warp looms, and low-warp as well, in many towns in Flanders and France, and there were also beginnings in Spain, England and Germany. Italy came later. The superb set in the Cluny Museum in Paris, _The Lady and the Unicorn_, than which nothing could be lovelier in poetic feeling as well as in technique, is accorded to French looms. But as it is impossible in a cursory survey to mention all, the two most important cities are dwelt upon because it is from them that the greatest amount of the best product emanated. Tapestries could not well decline with the fortunes of a town, for they were a heavy article of commerce at the time when Louis XI attacked Arras. Trade was made across the Channel, whence came the best wool for their manufacture; they were bought by the French monarchs and nobility; many drifted to Genoa and Italy, to be sold by the active merchants of the times to whoever could buy. When, therefore, Arras was crushed, her able workmen flew to other centres of production, principally in Flanders, notably to Bruges and Brussels, and helped to bring these places into their high position. [Illustration: VERDURE French Gothic Tapestry] [Illustration: "ECCE HOMO" Brussels Tapestry, about 1520. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York] Stories of kings and their magnificence breathe ever of romance, but kings could not be magnificent were it not for the labour of the conscientious common people, those who go daily to their task, asking nothing better than to live their little span in humble endeavour. The weavers, the tapissiers of that far-away time in Flanders are intensely appealing now when their beautiful work hangs before us to-day. They send us a friendly message down through the centuries. It is this makes us inquire a bit into the conditions of their lives, and so we find them scattered through the country north of France working with single-hearted devotion toward the perfection of their art. That they arrived there, we know by such tapestries as are left us of their time. Bruges was the home of a movement in art similar to that occurring in Italy. Old traditions of painting were being thrown aside--the revolution even attacking the painter's medium, tempera, which was criticised, discarded and replaced by oil on the palettes. Memling, the brothers Van Eyck, were painting things as they saw them, not as rules prescribed. Bernard Van Orley was at work with bold originality. It were strange if this Northern school of painters had not influenced all art near by. It is to these men that Brussels owes the beauty of her tapestries in that apogee of Gothic art which immediately preceded the introduction of the Renaissance from Italy. Cartoons or drawings for tapestries took on the rules of composition of these talented and original men. Easily distinguishable is the strong influence of the religious feeling, the fidelity to standards of the church. When a rich townsman wished to express his praise or gratitude to God, he ordered for the church an altar-piece or dainty gilded Gothic carving to frame the painted panels of careful execution. When Jean de Rome executed a cartoon, he treated it in much the same way; built up an airy Gothic structure and filled the spaces with pretty pictures. The so-called Mazarin tapestry of Mr. Morgan's shows this treatment at its best. Unhappily, the atelier of Jean de Rome or Jan von Room is too sketchily portrayed in the book of the past; its records are faint and elusive. We only hear now and then an interested allusion, a suggestion that this or that beautiful specimen of work has come from his atelier. Cartoons at the beginning of the Sixteenth Century were not all divided into their different scenes by Gothic column and arch. In much of the fine work there was no division except a natural one, for the picture began to develop the modern scheme of treating but one scene in one picture. Although this might be filled with many groups, yet all formed a harmonious whole. The practice then fell into disuse of repeating the same individual many times in one picture. A good example of the change and improvement in drawing which assisted in making Brussels' supremacy and in bringing Gothic art to perfection, is the fine hanging in the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. (Plate facing page 57.) It depicts with beautiful naïveté and much realism the discomfiture of Pharaoh and his army floundering in the Red Sea, while the serene and elegant children of Israel contemplate their distress with well-bred calm from the flowery banks of an orderly park. [Illustration: ALLEGORICAL SUBJECT Flemish Tapestry, about 1500. Collection of Alfred W. Hoyt, Esq.] [Illustration: CROSSING THE RED SEA Brussels Tapestry, about 1500. Boston Museum of Fine Arts] This tapestry illustrates so many of the important features of work during the first period of Brussels' supremacy that it is to be lingered over, dissected and tasted like a dessert of nuts and wine. Should one speak first of the cartoon or of the weave, of the artist or of the craftsmen? If it is to be the tapissier, then to him all credit, for in this and similar work he has reached a care in execution and a talent in translation that are inspired. Such quantity of detail, so many human faces with their varying expressions, could only be woven by the most adroit tapissier. The drawing shows, first, one scene of many groups but a sole interest, with none but probable divisions. Much grace and freedom is shown in the attitudes of the persons on the shore, and strenuous effort and despair among the engulfed soldiers. Extreme attention to detail, the making one part as finished as another, even to the least detail, is noticeable. The exaggerated patterns of the stuffs observable in earlier work is absent, and a sense of proportion is displayed in dress ornament. The free movement of men and beasts, and the variety of facial expression all show the immense strides made in drawing and the perfection attained in this brilliant period. It was a time when the artist perfected the old style and presaged the new, the years before the Renaissance had left its cradle and marched over Europe. This perfection of the Gothic ideal has a purity and simplicity that can never fail to appeal to all who feel that sincerity is the basic principle of art as it is of character. The style of Quentin Matsys, of the Van Eycks, was the mode at the end of the Fifteenth Century and the beginning of the Sixteenth, and after all this lapse of time it seems to us a sweet and natural expression of admirable human attributes. In the new wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, the labels of certain exhibits, purchases and loans allude briefly to "studio of Jean de Rome." It is an allusion which especially interests us, as our country now holds examples of this atelier which make us wish to know more about its master. He was a designer in the marvellous transition period of about 1500, when art trembled between the restraint of ecclesiastic Gothic and the voluptuous freedom of the Renaissance; hesitated between the conventions of religion and the abandonment to luxury, to indulgence of the senses. It is the fashion to regard periods of transition as times of decadence, of false standards of hybrid production, but at least they are full of deepest interest to the student of design who finds in the tremulous dawn of the new idea a flush which beautifies the last years of the old method. [Illustration: THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN Flemish Tapestry, about 1510. Collection of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq., New York] Attributed to this newly unearthed studio of Jean de Rome hangs a marvellous tapestry in the new wing alluded to, one which deserves repeated visits. (Plate facing page 58.) Indeed, to see it once creates the desire to see it again, so beautiful is it in drawing and so exquisite in colour and weave. It is suggested that Quentin Matsys is responsible for the drawing, and it is known that only Bruges or Brussels could produce such perfection of textile. Indeed, Jean de Rome is by some authorities spoken of as Jean de Brussels, for it is there that he worked long and well, assisting to produce those wonders of textile art that have never been surpassed, not even by the Gobelins factory in the Seventeenth Century. The tapestry in the Metropolitan Museum is now the property of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq., but began life as the treasure of the King and Queen of Spain who, at the time when Brussels was producing its best, were sitting firmly on a throne but just wrested from the Saracenic occupancy. Spain, while unable to establish famous and enduring tapestry factories of her own, yet was known always as a lavish buyer. Later, Cardinal Mazarin, with his trained Italian eye, detected at once the value of the tapestry and became possessed of it, counting it among his best treasures of art. It is a woven representation of the triptych, so favourite in the time of the Van Eycks, and is almost as rich with gold as those ancient altar decorations. The tapestry is variously called _The Kingdom of Heaven_, and _The Adoration of the Eternal Father_ and is the most beautiful and important of its kind in America. Fortunate they who can go to the museum to see it--only less fortunate than those who can go to see it many times. In the private collection of Martin A. Ryerson, Esq., of Chicago, are three examples of great perfection. They belonged to the celebrated art collection of Baron Spitzer, which fact, apart from their beauty, gives them renown. The first of these (plate facing page 60) is an appearance of Christ to the Magdalen after the Entombment, and is Flemish work of late in the Fifteenth Century. It is woven in silk and gold with infinite skill. With exquisite patience the weaver has brought out the crowded detail in the distance; indeed, it is this background, stretching away to the far sky, past the Tomb, beyond towns and plains of fruited trees to yet more cities set on a hill, that constitutes the greatest charm of the picture, and which must have brought hours of happy toil to the inspired weaver. The second tapestry of Mr. Ryerson's three pieces is also Flemish of the late Fifteenth Century. (Plate facing page 61.) This small group of the Holy Family shows at its best the conscientious work of the time, a time wherein man regarded labour as a means of worshipping his God. The subject is treated by both artist and weaver with that loving care which approaches religion. The holy three are all engaged in holding bunches of grapes, while the Child symbolically spills their juice into a chalice. Other symbols are found in the book and the cross-surmounted globe. A background of flat drapery throws into beautiful relief the inspired faces of the group. Behind this stretches the miniature landscape, but the foreground is unfretted by detail, abounding in the repose of the simple surfaces of the garments of Mother and Child. By a subtle trick of line, St. Joseph is separated from the holier pair. The border is the familiar well-balanced Gothic composition of flower, fruit, and leaf, all placed as though by the hand of Nature. The materials used are silk and gold, but one might well add that the soul of the weaver also entered into the fabric. [Illustration: FLEMISH TAPESTRY, END OF FIFTEENTH CENTURY Collection of Martin A. Ryerson, Esq., Chicago. Formerly in the Spitzer Collection] [Illustration: THE HOLY FAMILY Flemish Tapestry, end of Fifteenth Century. Collection of Martin A. Ryerson, Esq., Chicago. Formerly in the Spitzer Collection] The third piece from the Spitzer collection bears all those marks of exquisite beauty with which Italy was teeming in the Fifteenth Century. (Colour plate facing page 82.) Weavers from Brussels went down into Italy and worked under the direction of Italian artists who drew the designs. Andrea Mantegna was one of these. The patron of the industry was the powerful Gonzaga family. This tapestry of _The Annunciation_ which Mr. Ryerson is so fortunate as to hang in his collection, is decorated with the arms of the Gonzaga family. The border of veined marble, the altar of mosaics and fine relief, the architecture of the outlying baptistry, the wreathed angel, all speak of Italy in that lovely moment when the Gothic had not been entirely abandoned and the Renaissance was but an opening bud. The highest work of painter and weaver--artists both--continued through thirty or forty years. Pity it is, the time had not been long enough for more remains of it to have come to us than those that scantily supply museums. After the Gothic perfection came the great change made in Flanders by the introduction of the Renaissance. It came through the excellence of the weavers. It was not the worth of the artists that brought Brussels its greatest fame, but the humbler work of its tapissiers. Their lives, their endeavours counted more in textile art than did the Flemish school of painting. No such weavers existed in all the world. They were bound together as a guild, had restrictions and regulations of their own that would shame a trades union of to-day, and in change of politics had scant consideration from new powers. But in the end they were the ones to bring fame to the Brussels workshops. In 1528 they were banded together by organisation, and from that time on their work is easily followed and identified. It was in that year that a law was made compelling weavers--and allowing weavers--to incorporate into the encompassing galloon of the tapestry the Brussels Brabant mark of two B's with a shield between. And it was about this time and later that the celebrated family of weavers named Pannemaker came into prominence through the talent of Wilhelm de Pannemaker, he who accompanied the Emperor Charles V on his expedition to Tunis. This expedition flaunts itself in the set of tapestries now in Madrid. (Plate facing page 62.) The emperor seems, from our point of view, to have done it all with dramatic forethought. There was his special artist on the spot, Jan Vermeyen, to draw the superb cartoons, and accompanying him was Wilhelm de Pannemaker, the ablest weaver of his day, to set the loom and thrust the shuttle. Granada was the place selected for the weaving, and the finest of wool was set aside for it, besides lavish amounts of silk, and pounds of silver and gold. In three years, by the help of eighty workmen, Pannemaker completed his colossal task. Such was the master-weaver of the Sixteenth Century. [Illustration: CONQUEST OF TUNIS BY CHARLES V (DETAIL) Cartoon by Jan Vermeyen. Woven by Pannemaker. Royal Collection at Madrid] As for Pannemaker's imperial patron, John Addington Symonds discriminatingly says of him: "Like a gale sweeping across a forest of trees in blossom, and bearing their fertilising pollen to far distant trees, the storm of Charles Fifth's army carried far and wide through Europe the productive energy of the Renaissance." CHAPTER VI RENAISSANCE INFLUENCE Brussels in 1515, with her workmen at the zenith of their perfection, was given the order to weave the set of the _Acts of the Apostles_ for the Pope to hang in the Sistine Chapel. (Plate facing page 64.) The cartoons were by the great Raphael. Not only did he draw the splendid scenes, but with his exquisite invention elaborated the borders. Thus was set in the midst of the Brussels ateliers a pattern for the new art that was to retire the nice perfection of the previous school of restraint. From that time, all was regulated by new standards. Before considering the change that came to designs in tapestry, it is necessary that both mind and eye should be literally savants in the Gothic. Without this the greatest point in classifying and distinguishing is missed. The dainty grace of the verdure and flowers, the exquisite models of the architectural details, the honest, simple scheme of colour, all these are distinguishing marks, but to them is added the still greater one of the figures and their grouping. In the very early work, these are few in number, all equally accented in size and finish, but later the laws of perspective are better understood, and subordinates to the subject are drawn smaller. This gives opportunity for increase in the number of personages, and for the introduction of the horses and dogs and little wild animals that cause a childish thrill of delight wherever they are encountered, so like are they to the species that haunt childhood's fairyland. [Illustration: DEATH OF ANANIAS.--FROM ACTS OF THE APOSTLES BY RAPHAEL From the Palace of Madrid] [Illustration: THE STORY OF REBECCA Brussels Tapestry. Sixteenth Century. Collection of Arthur Astor Carey, Esq., Boston] Indeed, the Gothic tapestries more than any other existing pictures take us back to that epoch of our lives when we lived in romance, when the Sleeping Beauty hid in just such towers, when the prince rode such a horse and appeared an elegant young knight. The inscrutable mystery of those folk of other days is like the inscrutable mystery of that childhood time, the Mediæval time of the imagination, and those of us who remember its joys gaze silent and happy in the tapestry room of the Ducal Palace at Nancy, or in Mary's Chamber at Holyrood, or in any place whatever where hang the magic pictured cloths. When the highest development of a style is reached a change is sure to come. It may be a degeneration, or it may be the introduction of a new style through some great artistic impulse either native or introduced by contact with an outside influence. Fortunately, the Gothic passed through no pallid process of deterioration. The examples that nest comfortably in the museums of the world or in the homes of certain fortunate owners, do not contain marks of decadence--only of transition. It is a style that was replaced, but not one that died the death of decadence. It is with reluctance that one who loves the Gothic will leave it for the more recent art of the Renaissance. Its charm is one that embodies chasteness, grace, and simplicity, one that is so exquisitely finished, and so individual that the mind and eye rest lovingly upon its decorative expressions. It is averred that the introduction of the revived styles of Greece and Rome into France destroyed an art superior. One is inclined to this opinion in studying a tapestry of the highest Gothic expression, a finished product of the artist and the craftsman, both having given to its execution their honest labour and highest skill. Unhappily it is often, with the tapestry lover, a case similar to that of the penniless boy before the bakeshop window--you may look, but you may not have,--for not often are tapestries such as these for sale. Only among the experienced dealer-collectors is one fortunate enough to find these rare remnants of the past which for colour, design and texture are unsurpassed. But the Gothic was bound to give way as a fashion in design. Politics of Europe were at work, and men were more easily moving about from one country to another. The cities of the various provinces over which the Burgundian dukes had ruled were prevented by natural causes, from being united. Arras, Ghent, Liége instead of forming a solidarity, were separate units of interest. This made the subjugation of one or the other an easy matter to the tyrant who oppressed. As Arras declined under the misrule of Charles le Téméraire (whose possessions at one time outlined the whole northern and eastern border of France) Brussels came into the highest prominence as a source of the finest tapestries. [Illustration: THE CREATION Flemish Tapestry. Italian Cartoon, Sixteenth Century] [Illustration: THE ORIGINAL SIN Flemish Tapestry. Italian Cartoon, Sixteenth Century] The great change in tapestries that now occurs is the same that altered all European art and decoration and architecture. Indeed it cannot be limited to these evidences alone, for it affected literature, politics, religion, every intellectual evidence. Man was breaking his bonds and becoming freed for centuries to come. The time was well-named for the new birth. Like another Birth of long ago, it occurred in the South, and its influence gradually spread over the entire civilised world. The Renaissance, starting in Italy, gradually flushed the whole of Europe with its glory. Artists could not be restrained. Throbbing with poetry to be expressed, they threw off design after design of inspired beauty and flooded the world with them. The legitimate field of painting was not large enough for their teeming originality which pre-empted also the field of decorative design as well. Many painters apprenticed themselves to goldsmiths and silversmiths to become yet more cunning in the art of minute design, and the guilds of Florence held the names best known in the fine arts. Tapestry weaving seems a natural expression in the North, the impulsive supplying of a local need. Possibly Italy felt no such need throughout the Middle Ages. However that may be, when her artists composed designs for woven pictures there were no permanent artisans at home of sufficient skill to weave them. But up in the North, craftsmen were able to produce work of such brilliant and perfect execution that the great artists of Italy were inspired to draw cartoons. And so it came, that to make sure of having their drawings translated into wool and silk with proper artistic feeling, the cartoons of Raphael were bundled off by trusty carriers to the ateliers of Flanders. Thus Italy got her tapestries of the Renaissance, and thus Flanders acquired by inoculation the rich art of the Renaissance. The direct cause of the change in Flemish style of tapestries was in this way brought about by the Renaissance of Italy. New rules of drawing were dominating. Changes were slower when travelling was difficult, and the average of literacy was low; but gradually there came creeping up to Brussels cartoon after cartoon in the new method, for her skilled workmen to transpose into wool and silk and metal, "thread of Arras," and "gold and silver of Cyprus." Italy had the artists, Brussels had the craftsmen--what happier combination could be made than the union of these two? Thus was the great change brought about in tapestries, and this union is the great fact to be borne in mind about the difference between the Gothic tapestries and those which so quickly succeeded them. From now on the old method is abandoned, not only in Brussels, but everywhere that the high-warp looms are set up. The "art nouveau" of that day influenced every brush and pencil. The great crowding of serried hosts on a single field disappeared, and fewer but perfect figures played their parts on the woven surface. Wherever architectural details, such as porticoes or columns, were introduced, these dropped the old designs of "pointed" style or battlements, and took on the classic or the high Renaissance that ornaments the façade of Pavia's Certosa. One by one the wildwood flowers receded before the advance of civilisation, very much as those in the veritable land are wont to do, and their place was taken by a verdure as rich as the South could produce, with heavy foliage and massive blossoms. [Illustration: MELEAGER AND ATALANTA Flemish design, second half of Seventeenth Century. Woven in Paris workshops by Charles de Comans] [Illustration: PUNIC WAR SERIES Brussels Tapestry. Sixteenth Century. Collection of Arthur Astor Carey, Esq., Boston] It is impossible to overestimate the importance to Brussels of the animating experience and distinguished commission of executing the set of tapestries for the Sistine Chapel after cartoons by Raffaelo Sanzio. The date is one to tie to (1515) and the influence of the work was far-reaching. The Gothic method could no longer continue. The Renaissance spread its influence, established its standards and introduced that wave of productiveness which always followed its introduction. There are many who doubt the superiority of the voluptuous art of the high Renaissance. There are those who prefer (perhaps for reasons of sentiment) the early Gothic, and many more who love far better the sweet purity of the early Renaissance. Before us Raphael presents his full figures replete with action, rich with broad, open curves in nudity, and magnificent with lines of flowing drapery. To him be accorded all due honour; but, if it is the privilege of the artist's spirit to wander still on earth, he must find his particular post-mortem punishment in viewing the deplorable school of exaggeration which his example founded. Who would not prefer one of the chaste tapestries of perfected Gothic to one of those which followed Raphael, imitating none of his virtues, exaggerating his faults? It is these followers, the virilities of whose false art is as that of weeds, who have come almost to our own day and who have succeeded in spoiling the historical aspect of the New Testament for many an imaginative Sunday-school attendant by giving us Bible folk in swarthy undress, in lunatic beards and in unwearable drapings. These terrible persons, descendants of Raphael's art, can never stir a human sympathy. Just here a word must be said of the workmen, the weavers of Brussels. For them certain fixed rules were made, but also they were allowed much liberty in execution. The artist might draw the big cartoons and thus become the governing influence, but much of the choice of colour and thread was left to the weaver. This made of him a more important factor in the composition than a mere artisan; he was, in fact, an artist, must needs be, to execute a work of such sublimity as the Raphael set. And as a weaver, his patience was without limit. Thread by thread, the warp was set, and thread by thread the woof was woven and coerced into place by the relentless comb of the weaver. Perhaps a man might make a square foot, by a week of close application; but "how much" mattered nothing--it was "how well" that counted. Haste is disassociable from labour of our day; we might produce--or reproduce--tapestries as good as the old, but some one is in haste for the hanging, and excellency goes by the board. The weaver of those days of perfection was content to be a weaver, felt his ambition gratified if his work was good. [Illustration: EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF CÆSAR Flemish Tapestry. Sixteenth Century. Gallery of the Arazzi, Florence] [Illustration: WILD BOAR HUNT Flemish Cartoon and Weaving, Sixteenth Century. Gallery of the Arazzi, Florence] Peter van Aelst was the master chosen to execute the Raphael tapestries, and the pieces were finished in three or four years. Those who think present-day prices high, should think on the fact that Pope Leo X paid $130,000 for the execution of the tapestries, which in 1515 counted for more than now. Raphael received $1,000 each for the cartoons, almost all of which are now guarded in England. The tapestries after a varied history are resting safely in the Vatican, a wonder to the visitor. When Van Aelst had finished his magnificent work, the tapestries were sent to Rome. Those who go now to the Sistine Chapel to gaze upon Michael Angelo's painted ceiling, and the panelled sidewalls of Botticelli and other cotemporary artists, are more than intoxicated with the feast. But fancy what the scene must have been when Pope Leo X summoned his gorgeous guard and cardinals around him in this chapel enriched also with the splendour of these unparalleled hangings. And thus it came that Italy held the first place--almost the only place--in design, and Brussels led in manufacture. In 1528 appeared a mark on Brussels' tapestries which distinguished them from that time on. Prior to that their works, except in certain authenticated instances, are not always distinguishable from those of other looms--of which many existed in many towns. The mark alluded to is the famous one of two large B's on either side of a shield or scutcheon. This was woven into a plain band on the border, and the penalty for its misuse was the no small one of the loss of the right hand--the death of the culprit as a weaver. This mark and its laws were intended to discourage fraud, to promote perfection and to conserve a high reputation for weavers as well as for dealers. CHAPTER VII RENAISSANCE TO RUBENS When the Raphael cartoons first came to Brussels the new method was a little difficult for the tapissier. His hand had been accustomed to another manner. He had, too, been allowed much liberty in his translations--if one may so call the art of reproducing a painted model on the loom. He might change at will the colour of a drapery, even the position of a figure, and, most interesting fact, he had on hand a supply of stock figures that he might use at will, making for himself suitable combination. The figures of Adam and Eve gave a certain cachet to hangings not entirely secular and these were slipped in when a space needed filling. There were also certain lovely ladies who might at one time play the rôle of attendant at a feast _al fresco_, at another time a character in an allegory. The weaver's hand was a little conventional when he began to execute the Raphael cartoons, but during the three years required for their execution he lost all restriction and was ready for the freer manner. [Illustration: VERTUMNUS AND POMONA First half of Sixteenth Century. Royal Collection of Madrid] [Illustration: VERTUMNUS AND POMONA First half of Sixteenth Century. Royal Collection of Madrid] It must not be supposed the Flemish artists were content to let the Italians entirely usurp them in the drawing of cartoons. The lovely refinement of the Bruges school having been thrust aside, the Fleming tried his hand at the freer method, not imitating its classicism but giving his themes a broader treatment. The Northern temperament failed to grasp the spirit of the South, and figures grew gross and loose in the exaggerated drawing. Borders, however, show no such deterioration; the attention to detail to which the old school was accustomed was here continued and with good effect. No stronger evidence is needed than some of these half savage portrayals of life in the Sixteenth Century to declare the classic method an exotic in Flanders. But with the passing of the old Gothic method, there was little need for other cartoonists than the Italian, so infinitely able and prolific were they. Andrea del Sarto, Titian, Paolo Veronese, Giulio Romano, these are among the artists whose work went up to Brussels workshops and to other able looms of the day. We can fancy the fair face of Andrea's wife being lovingly caressed by the weaver's fingers in his work; we can imagine the beauties of Titian, the sumptuousness of Veronese's feasts, and the fat materialism of Giulio Romano's heavy cherubs, all contributing to the most beautiful of textile arts. Still earlier, Mantegna supplied a series of idealised Pompeian figures exquisitely composed, set in a lacy fancy of airy architectural detail, in which he idealised all the gods of Olympus. Each fair young goddess, each strong and perfect god, stood in its particular niche and indicated its _penchant_ by a tripod, a peacock, an apple or a caduceus, as clue to the proper name. Such airy beauty, such dainty conception, makes of the gods rulers of æsthetics, if not of fate. This series of Mantegna was the inspiration two centuries later of the _Triumphs of the Gods_, and similar hangings of the newly-formed Gobelins. Giulio Romano drew, among other cartoons, a set of _Children Playing_, which were the inspiration later at the Gobelins for Lebrun's _Enfants Jardiniers_. As classic treatment was the mode in the Sixteenth Century, so classic subject most appealed. The loves and adventures of gods and heroes gave stories for an infinite number of sets. As it was the fashion to fill a room with a series, not with miscellaneous and contrasting bits, several tapestries similar in subject and treatment were a necessity. The gods were carried through their adventures in varying composition, but the borders in all the set were uniform in style and measurement. In those prolific days, when ideas were crowding fast for expression, the border gave just the outlet necessary for the superfluous designs of the artist. He was wont to plot it off into squares with such architectonic fineness as Mina da Fiesole might have used, and to make of each of these a picture or a figure so perfect that in itself it would have sufficient composition for an entire tapestry. All honour to such artists, but let us never once forget that without the skill and talent of the master-weaver these beauties would never have come down to us. [Illustration: VERTUMNUS AND POMONA First half of Sixteenth Century. Royal Collection of Madrid] [Illustration: VERTUMNUS AND POMONA First half of Sixteenth Century. Royal Collection of Madrid] The collection of George Blumenthal, Esquire, of New York, contains as beautiful examples of Sixteenth Century composition and weaving as could be imagined. Two of these were found in Spain--the country which has ever hoarded her stores of marvellous tapestries. They represent the story of _Mercury_. (Frontispiece.) The cartoon is Italian, and so perfect is its drawing, so rich in invention is the exquisite border, that the name of Raphael is half-breathed by the thrilled observer. But if the artist is not yet certainly identified, the name of the weaver is certain, for on the galloon he has left his sign. It is none other than the celebrated Wilhelm de Pannemaker. In addition to this is the shield and double B of the Brussels workshop, which after 1528 was a requirement on all tapestries beyond a certain small size. In 1544 the Emperor Charles V made a law that the mark or name of the weaver and the mark of his town must be put in the border. It was this same Pannemaker of the Blumenthal tapestries who wove in Spain the _Conquest of Tunis_ for Charles V. (Plate facing page 62.) Mr. Blumenthal's tapestries must have carried with them some such contract for fine materials as that which attended the execution of the _Tunis_ set, so superb are they in quality. Indeed, gold is so lavishly used that the border seems entirely made of it, except for the delicate figures resting thereon. It is used, too, in an unusual manner, four threads being thrown together to make more resplendent the weave. The beauty of the cartoon as a picture, the decorative value of the broad surfaces of figured stuffs, the marvellous execution of the weaver, all make the value of these tapestries incalculable to the student and the lover of decorative art. Mr. Blumenthal has graciously placed them on exhibition in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Fortunate they who can absorb their beauty. That treasure-house in Madrid which belongs to the royal family contains a set which bears the same ear-marks as the Blumenthal tapestries. It is the set called _The Loves of Vertumnus and Pomona_. (Plates facing pages 72, 73, 74 and 75.) Here is the same manner of dress, the same virility, the same fulness of decoration. Yet the Mercury is drawn with finer art. The delight in perfected detail belonging to the Italian school of artists resulted in an arrangement of _grotesques_. Who knows that the goldsmith's trade was not responsible for these tiny fantastics, as so many artists began as apprentices to workers in gold and silver? This evidence of talented invention must be observed, for it set the fashion for many a later tapestry, notably the _Grotesque Months_ of the Seventeenth Century. Mingled with verdure and fruit, it is seen in work of the Eighteenth Century. But in its original expression is it the most talented. There we find that intellectual plan of design, that building of a perfect whole from a subtle combination of absolutely irreconcilable and even fabulous objects. Yet all is done with such beguiling art that both mind and eye are piqued and pleased with the impossible blending of realism and imagination. Bacchiacca drew a filigree of attenuated fancies, threw them on a ground of single delicate colour, and sent them for weave to the celebrated masters, John Rost and Nicholas Karcher. (Plates facing pages 84 and 85.) These men at that time (1550) had set their Flemish looms in Italy. [Illustration: TAPESTRIES FOR HEAD AND SIDE OF BED Renaissance designs. Royal Collection of Madrid] [Illustration: THE STORY OF REBECCA Brussels Tapestry. Sixteenth Century. Collection of Arthur Astor Carey, Esq., Boston] And so it came that the Renaissance swept all before it in the world of tapestry. More than that, with the increase of culture and of wealth, with the increased mingling of the peoples of Europe after the raid of Charles V into Italy, the demand for tapestries enormously increased. They were wanted for furnishing of homes, they were wanted as gifts--to brides, to monarchs, to ambassadors. And they were wanted for splendid decoration in public festivals. They had passed beyond the stage of rarity and had become almost as much a matter of course as clothing. Brussels being in the ascendency as a producer, the world looked to her for their supply, and thereby came trouble. More orders came than it was possible to fill. The temptation was not resisted to accept more work than could be executed, for commercialism has ever a hold. The result was a driving haste. The director of the ateliers forced his weavers to quick production. This could mean but one thing, the lessening of care in every department. Gradually it came about that expedition in a tapissier, the ability to weave quickly, was as great a desideratum as fine work. Various other expedients were resorted to beside the Sixteenth Century equivalent of "Step lively." Large tapestries were not set on a single loom, but were woven in sections, cunningly united when finished. In this manner more men could be impressed into the manufacture of a single piece. A wicked practice was introduced of painting or dyeing certain woven parts in which the colours had been ill-selected. All these things resulted in constantly increasing restrictions by the guild of tapissiers and by order of royal patrons. But fraud is hard to suppress when the animus of the perpetrator is wrong. Laws were made to stop one fault after another, until in the end the weavers were so hampered by regulations that work was robbed of all enthusiasm or originality. It was at this time that Brussels adopted the low-warp loom. In other words, after a brilliant period of prolific and beautiful production, Brussels began to show signs of deterioration. Her hour of triumph was past. It had been more brilliant than any preceding, and later times were never able to touch the same note of purity coupled with perfection. The reason for the decline is known, but reasons are of scant interest in the face of the deplorable fact of decadence. The Italian method of drawing cartoons was adopted by the Flemish cartoonists at this time, but as it was an adoption and not a natural expression of inborn talent, it fell short of the high standard of the Renaissance. But that is not to say that we of to-day are not ready to worship the fruit of the Italian graft on Flemish talent. A tapestry belonging to the Institute of Art in Chicago well represents this hybrid expression of drawing. (Plate facing page 78.) The principal figures are inspired by such as are seen in the _Mercury_ of Mr. Blumenthal's collection, or the _Vertumnus and Pomona_ series, but there the artist stopped and wandered off into his traditional Flemish landscape with proper Flemings in the background dressed in the fashion of the artist's day. [Illustration: BRUSSELS TAPESTRY. LATE SIXTEENTH CENTURY Weaver, Jacques Geubels. Institute of Art, Chicago] [Illustration: MEETING OF ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA Brussels Tapestry. Woven by Gerard van den Strecken. Cartoon attributed to Rubens] The border was evidently inspired by Raphael's classic figures and arabesques, but the column of design is naïvely broken by the far perspective of a formal garden. The Italian cartoonist would have built his border, figure and arabesque, one above another like a fantastic column (_vide_ Mr. Blumenthal's _Mercury_ border). The Fleming saw the intricacy, the multiplied detail, but missed the intellectual harmony. But, such trifles apart, the Flemish examples of this style that have come to us are thrilling in their beauty of colour, and borders such as this are an infinite joy. This tapestry was woven about the last quarter of the Sixteenth Century by a weaver named Jacques Geubels of Brussels, who was employed by Carlier, a merchant of Antwerp. As the fruit of the Renaissance graft on Flanders coarsened and deteriorated, a new influence arose in the Low Countries, one that was bound to submerge all others. Rubens appeared and spread his great decorative surfaces before eyes that were tired of hybrid design. This great scene-painter introduced into all Europe a new method in his voluptuous, vigorous work, a method especially adapted to tapestry weaving. It is not for us to quarrel with the art of so great a master. The critics of painting scarce do that; but in the lesser art of tapestry the change brought about by his cartoons was not a happy one. His great dramatic scenes required to be copied directly from the canvas, no liberty of line or colour could be allowed the weaver. In times past, the tapissier--with talent almost as great as that of the cartoonist--altered at his discretion. Even he to whom the Raphael cartoons were entrusted changed here and there the work of the master. But now he was expected to copy without license for change. In other words, the time was arriving when tapestries were changing from decorative fabrics into paintings in wool. It takes courage to avow a distaste for the newer method, seeing what rare and beautiful hangings it has produced. But after a study of the purely decorative hangings of Gothic and Renaissance work, how forced and false seem the later gods. The value of the tapestries is enormous, they are the work of eminent men--but the heart turns away from them and revels again in the Primitives and the Italians of the Cinque Cento. Repining is of little avail. The mode changes and tastes must change with it. If the gradual decadence after the Renaissance was deplorable, it was well that a Rubens rose in vigour to set a new and vital copy. To meet new needs, more tones of colour and yet more, were required by the weaver, and thus came about the making of woven pictures. As one picture is worth many pages of description, it were well to observe the examples given (plate facing page 79) of the superb set of _Antony and Cleopatra_, a series of designs attributed to Rubens, executed in Brussels by Gerard van den Strecken. This set is in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. CHAPTER VIII ITALY FIFTEENTH THROUGH SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES The history of tapestry in Italy is the story of the great families, their romances and achievements. These families were those which furnished rulers of provinces--kings, almost--which supplied popes as well, and folk who thought a powerful man's pleasurable duty was to interest himself seriously in the arts. With the fine arts all held within her hand, it was but logical that Italy should herself begin to produce the tapestries she was importing from the land of the barbarians as those beyond her northern borders were arrogantly called. First among the records is found the name of the Gonzaga family which called important Flemish weavers down to Mantua, and there wove designs of Mantegna, in the highest day of their factory's production, about 1450. Duke Frederick of Urbino is one of the early Italian patrons of tapestry whose name is made unforgettable in this connexion by the product of the factory he established toward the end of the Fifteenth Century, at his court in the little duchy which included only the space reaching from the Apennines to the Adriatic and from Rimini to Ancona. The chief work of this factory was the _History of Troy_ which cost the generous and enthusiastic duke a hundred thousand dollars. The great d'Este family was one to follow persistently the art, possibly because it habited the northern part of the peninsula and was therefore nearer Flanders, but more probably because the great Duke of Ferrara was animated by that superb pride of race that chafes at rivalry; this, added to a wish to encourage art, and the lust of possession which characterised the great men of that day. It was the middle of the Sixteenth Century that Ercole II, the head of the d'Este family, revived at Ferrara the factory of his family which had suffered from the wars. The master-weavers were brought from Flanders, not only to produce tapestries almost unequalled for technical perfection, but to instruct local weavers. These two important weavers were Nicholas and John Karcher or Carcher as it is sometimes spelled, names of great renown--for a weaver might be almost as well known and as highly esteemed as the artist of the cartoons in those days when artisan's labour had not been despised by even the great Leonardo. The foremost artist of the Ferrara works was chosen from that city, Battista Dosso, but also active as designer was the Fleming, Lucas Cornelisz. In Dosso's work is seen that exquisite and dainty touch that characterises the artists of Northern Italy in their most perfect period, before voluptuous masses and heavy scroll-like curves prevailed even in the drawing of the human figure. [Illustration: THE ANNUNCIATION Italian Tapestry. Fifteenth Century. Collection of Martin A. Ryerson, Esq., Chicago] The House of Este had a part to play in the visit of the Emperor Charles V when he elected to be crowned with Lombardy's Iron Crown, in 1530, at Bologna instead of in the cathedral at Monza where the relic has its home. "Crowns run after me; I do not run after them," he said, with the arrogance of success. At this reception at Bologna we catch a glimpse of the brilliant Isabella d'Este amid all the magnificence of the occasion. It takes very little imagination to picture the effect of the public square at Bologna--the same buildings that stand to-day--the square of the Palazzo Publico and the Cathedral--to fancy these all hung with the immense woven pictures with high lights of silk and gold glowing in the sun, and through this magnificent scene the procession of mounted guards, of beautiful ladies, of church dignitaries, with Charles V as the central object of pomp, wearing as a clasp to the cope of state the great diamond found on the field of Marat after the defeat of the Duke of Burgundy. The members of the House of Este were there with their courts and their protégés, their artists and their literati, as well as with their display of riches and gaiety. The manufactory at Ferrara was now allowed to sell to the public, so great was its success, and to it is owed the first impetus given to the weaving in Italy and the production of some of the finest hangings which time has left for us to enjoy to-day. It is a sad commentary on man's lust of novelty that the factory at Ferrara was ultimately abandoned by reason of the introduction into the country of the brilliant metal-illuminated leathers of Cordova. The factory's life was comprised within the space of the years 1534 to 1597, the years in which lived Ercole II and Alfonso II, the two dukes of the House of Este who established and continued it. It was but little wonder that the great family of the Medici looked with envious eyes on any innovation or success which distinguished a family which so nearly approached in importance its own. When Ercole d'Este had fully proved the perfection of his new industry, the weaving of tapestry, one of the Medici established for himself a factory whereby he, too, might produce this form of art, not only for the furtherance of the art, but to supply his own insatiable desires for possession. The _Arazzeria Medicea_ was the direct result of the jealousy of Cosimo I, Grand Duke of Tuscany, 1537-1574. It was established in Florence with a success to be anticipated under such powerful protection, and it endured until that patronage was removed by the extinction of the family in 1737. It was to be expected that the artists employed were those of note, yet in the general result, outside of delicate grotesques, the drawing is more or less the far-away echo of greater masters whose faults are reproduced, but whose inspiration is not obtainable. After Michael Angelo, came a passion for over-delineation of over-developed muscles; after Raphael--came the debased followers of his favourite pupil, Giulio Romano, who had himself seized all there was of the carnal in Raphael's genius. But if there is something to be desired in the composition and line of the cartoons of the Florentine factory, there is nothing lacking in the consummate skill of the weavers. [Illustration: ITALIAN TAPESTRY. MIDDLE OF SIXTEENTH CENTURY Cartoon by Bacchiacca. Woven by Nicholas Karcher] [Illustration: ITALIAN TAPESTRY. MIDDLE OF SIXTEENTH CENTURY Cartoon by Bacchiacca. Woven by G. Rost] The same Nicholas Karcher who set the standard in the d'Este works, gave of his wonderful skill to the Florentines, and with him was associated John Rost. These were both from Flanders, and although trade regulations for tapestry workers did not exist in Italy, Duke Cosimo granted each of these men a sufficient salary, a habitat, as well as permission to work for outsiders, and in addition paid them for all work executed for himself. The subjects for the set of tapestries had entirely left the old method of pious interpretation and of mediæval allegory and revelled in pictured tales of the Scriptures and of the gods and heroes of mystical Parnassus and of bellicose Greece, not forgetting those dainty exquisite impossibilities called grotesques. It was about the time of the death of Cosimo I (1574), the founder of the Medicean factory, that a new and unfortunate influence came into the directorship of the designs. This was the appointment of Stradano or Johan van der Straaten, to give his Flemish name, as dominating artist. He was a man without fine artistic feeling, one of those whose eye delighted in the exaggerations of decadence rather than in the restraint of perfect art. He was inspired, not by past perfection of the Italians among whom he came to live, but by those of the decline, and on this he grafted a bit of Northern philistinism. His brush was unfortunately prolific, and at this time the fine examples of weaving set by Rost and Karcher had been replaced by quicker methods so that after 1600 the tapestries poured out were lamentably inferior. Florentine tapestry had at this time much pretence, much vulgar display in its drawing, missing the fine virtues of the time when Cosimo I dictated its taste, the fine virtues of "grace, gaiety and reflectiveness." Leo X, the great Medicean pope, was elected in 1513, he who ordered the great Raphael set of the _Acts of the Apostles_, but it was before the establishment of important looms in Italy, so to Flanders and Van Aelst are due the glory of first producing this series which afterward was repeated many times, in the great looms of Europe. Leo X emulated in the patronage of the arts his father Lorenzo, well-named Magnificent. What Lorenzo did in Florence, Leo X endeavoured to do in Rome; make of his time and of his city the highest expression of culture. His record, however, is so mixed with the corruption of the time that its golden glory is half-dimmed. It was from the licentiousness of cardinals and the wanton revels of the Vatican in Leo's time that young Luther the "barbarian" fled with horror to nail up his theses on the doors of the churches in Wittenberg. The history of tapestry in Italy at the Seventeenth Century was all in the hands of the great families. Italy was not united under a single royal head, but was a heterogeneous mass of dukedoms, of foreign invaders, with the popes as the head of all. But Italy had experienced a time of papal corruption, which had, as its effect, wars of disintegration, the retarding of that unity of state which has only recently been accomplished. State patronage for the factories was not known, that steady beneficent influence, changeless through changing reigns. Popes and great families regulated art in all its manifestations, and who shall say that envy and rivalry did not act for its advancement. [Illustration: ITALIAN VERDURE. SEVENTEENTH CENTURY] The desire to imitate the cultivation and elegance of Italy was what made returning invaders carry the Renaissance into the rest of Europe; and in a lesser degree the process was reversed when, in the Seventeenth Century, a cardinal of the House of Barberini visited France and, on viewing in the royal residences a superb display of tapestries, his envy and ambition were aroused to the extent of emulation. He could not, with all his power, possess himself of the hangings that he saw, but he could, and did, arrange to supply himself generously from another source. He was the powerful Francesco Barberini, the son of the pope's brother (Pope Urban VIII, 1623-1644), and it was he who established the Barberini Library and built from the ruins of Rome's amphitheatres and baths the great palace which to-day still dominates the street winding up to its aristocratic elegance. It was to adorn this palace that Cardinal Francesco established ateliers and looms and set artists and weavers to work. This tapestry factory is of especial interest to America, for some of its chief hangings have come to rest with us. _The Mysteries of the Life and Death of Jesus Christ_, one set is called, and is the property of the Cathedral of St. John, the Divine, in New York, donated by Mrs. Clarke. Cardinal Francesco Barberini chose as his artists those of the school of Pietro di Cortona with Giovanni Francesco Romanelli as the head master. The director of the factory was Giacomo della Riviera allied with M. Wauters, the Fleming.[13] The former was especially concerned with the pieces now owned by the Cathedral of St. John, the Divine, in New York, and which are signed with his name. Romanelli was the artist of the cartoons, and his fame is almost too well known to dwell upon. His portrait, in tapestry, hangs in the Louvre, for in Paris he gained much fame at the Court of Louis XIV, where he painted portraits of the Grand Monarch, who never wearied of seeing his own magnificence fixed on canvas. It was the hard fate of the Barberini family to lose power and wealth after the death of their powerful member, Pope Urban VIII, in 1644. Their wealth and influence were the shining mark for the arrows of envy, so it was to be expected that when the next pope, Innocent X, was elected, they were robbed of riches and driven out of the country into France. This ended for a time the work of the tapestry factory, but later the family returned and work was resumed to the extent of weaving a superb series picturing scenes especially connected with the glory of the family, and entitled _History of Urban VIII_. Although Italy is growing daily in power and riches under her new policy of political unity, there were dreary years of heavy expense and light income for many of her famous families, and it was during such an era that the Barberini family consented to let their tapestries pass out from the doors of the palace they were woven to decorate. In 1889, the late Charles M. Ffoulke, Esq., became the possessor of all the Barberini hangings, and added them to his famous collection. Thus through the enterprise and the fine artistic appreciation of Mr. Ffoulke, is America able to enjoy the best expression of Italian tapestry of the Seventeenth Century. The part that Venice ever played in the history of tapestry is the splendid one of consumer. In her Oriental magnificence she exhibited in palace and pageant the superb products of labour which others had executed. Without tapestries her big stone palaces would have lacked the note of soft luxury, without coloured hangings her balconies would have been but dull settings for languid ladies, and her water-parades would have missed the wondrous colour that the Venetian loves. Yet to her rich market flowed the product of Europe in such exhaustless stream that she became connoisseur-consumer only, nor felt the need of serious producing. Workshops there were, from time to time, but they were as easily abandoned as they were initiated, and they have left little either to history or to museums. Venice was, in the Sixteenth Century, not only a buyer of tapestries for her own use, but one of the largest markets for the sale of hangings to all Europe. Men and monarchs from all Christendom went there to purchase. The same may be said of Genoa, so that although these two cities had occasional unimportant looms, their position was that of middleman--vendors of the works of others. In addition to this they were repairers and had ateliers for restoring, even in those days. FOOTNOTE: [13] E. Müntz, "La Tapisserie." CHAPTER IX FRANCE WORKING UP TO GOBELINS FACTORY In following the great sweep of tapestry production we arrive now in France, there to stay until the Revolution. The early beginnings were there, briefly rivalling Arras, but Arras, as we have seen, caught up the industry with greater zeal and became the ever-famous leader of the Fifteenth Century, ceding to Brussels in the Sixteenth Century, whence the high point of perfection was carried to Paris and caused the establishment of the Gobelins. The English development under James I, we defer for a later considering. Francis I stands, an over-dressed, ever ambitious figure, at the beginning of things modern in French art. He still smacks of the Middle Ages in many a custom, many a habit of thought; his men clank in armour, in his châteaux lurk the suggestion of the fortress, and his common people are sunk in a dark and hopeless oppression. Yet he himself darts about Europe with a springing gait and an elegant manner, the type of the strong aristocrat dispensing alike arts of war and arts of the Renaissance. Was it his visits, bellicose though they were, to Italy and Spain, that turned his observant eye to the luxury of woven story and made him desire that France should produce the same? The Sforza Castle at Milan had walls enough of tapestry, the pageants of Leonardo da Vinci, organised at royal command of the lovely Beatrice d'Este, displayed the wealth of woven beauty over which Francis had time to deliberate in those bad hours after the battle at Milan's noted neighbour, Pavia. [Illustration: THE FINDING OF MOSES Gobelins, Seventeenth Century. Cartoon after Poussin. The Louvre Museum] [Illustration: TRIUMPH OF JUNO Gobelins under Louis XIV.] The attention of Francis was also turned much to Spain through envy of that extraordinary man of luck and ability, the Emperor Charles V, and from whom he made abortive and sullen efforts to wrest Germany, Italy, anything he could get. In his imprisonment in Madrid, Francis had time in plenty on which to think of many things, and why not on the wonderful tapestries of which Spain has always had a collection to make envious the rest of Europe. He might forget his two poor little boys who were left as hostages on his release, but he forgot not whatever contributes to the pleasure of life. That peculiarity was one which was yielding luscious fruit, however, for Francis was the bearer of the torch of the Renaissance which was to illumine France with the same fire that flashed and glowed over Italy. This is a fact to remember in regard to the class of designs of his own and succeeding periods in France. How he got his ideas we can reasonably trace, and the result of them was that he established a royal tapestry factory in beautiful Fontainebleau, which lies hid in grateful shade, stretching to flowered fields but a reasonable distance from the distractions of Paris. It pleased Francis--and perhaps the beautiful Diane de Poitiers and Duchesse d'Étampes--to critique plays in that tiny gem of a theatre at the palace, or to feed the carp in the pool; but also it gave him pleasure to wander into the rooms where the high-warp looms lifted their utilitarian lengths and artists played at magic with the wools. Alas, one cannot dress this patronage of art with too much of disinterestedness, for these marvellous weavings were for the adornment of the apartments of the very persons who caused their productions. The grand idea of state ateliers had not yet come to bless the industry. For this reason the factory at Fontainebleau outlasted the reign of its founder, Francis I, but a short time. Nevertheless, examples of its works are still to be seen and are of great beauty, notably those at the Museum of the Gobelins in Paris. That a series called the _History of Diana_ was produced is but natural, considering the puissance at court of the famous Diane de Poitiers. When Francis' son, Henri II, enfeebled in constitution by the Spanish confinement, inherited the throne, it was but natural that he should neglect the indulgences of his father and prefer those of his own. The Fontainebleau factory strung its looms and copied its cartoons and produced, too, certain hangings for Henri's wife, the terrible Catherine de Medici, on which her vicious eyes rested in forming her horrid plots; but Henri had ambitions of his own, small ambitions beside those which had to do with jealousy of Charles Quint. He let the factory of Francis I languish, but carried on the art under his own name and fame. To give his infant industry a home he looked about Paris and decided upon the Hôpital de la Trinité, an institution where asylum was found for the orphans of the city who seem, in the light of the general brutality of the time, to have been even in more need of a home than the parentless child of modern civilisation. A part of the scheme was to employ in the works such children as were sufficiently mature and clever to work and to learn at least the auxiliary details of a craft that is also an art. In this way the sixty or so of the orphans of La Trinité were given a means of earning a livelihood. Among them was one whose name became renowned. This was Maurice du Bourg, whose tapestries surpassed all others of his time in this factory--an important factory, as being one of the group that later was merged into the Gobelins. It must be remembered in identifying French tapestries of this kind that things Gothic had been vanquished by the new fashion of things Renaissance, and that all models were Italian. Giulio Romano and his school of followers were the mode in France, not only in drawing, but in the revival of classic subject. This condition in the art world found expression in a set of tapestries from the factory of La Trinité that are sufficiently celebrated to be set down in the memory with an underscoring. This set was composed of fifteen pieces illustrating in sweeping design and gorgeous colouring the _History of Mausolus and Artemisia_. Intense local and personal interest was given to the set by making an open secret of the fact that by Artemisia, the Queen of Halicarnassus, was meant the widowed Queen of France, Catherine de Medici, who adored posing as the most famous of widows and adding ancient glory to her living importance. To this _History_ French writers accord the important place of inspirer of a distinctively French Renaissance. The weaver being Maurice du Bourg, the chief of the factory of La Trinité, the artists were Henri Lerambert and Antoine Carron, but the set has been many times copied in various factories, and Artemisia has symbolised in turn two other widowed queens of France. Into the throne of France climbed wearily a feeble youth always under the influence of his mother, Catherine de Medici; and then it was filled by two other incapable and final Orleans monarchs, until at last by virtue of inheritance and sword, it became the seat of that grand and faulty Henri IV, King of Navarre. By fighting he got his place, and the habit being strong upon him, he was in eternal conflict. Some there be who are developed by sympathy, but Henri IV was developed by opposition, and thus it was that although opposed in the matter by his Prime Minister, Sully, he established factories for the weaving of tapestries in both high and low warps. With the desire to see the arts of peace instead of evidences of war throughout his kingdom just rescued from conflict, he took all means to set his people in the ways of pleasing industry. The indefatigable Sully was plucking the royal sleeve to follow the path of the plough, to see man's salvation, material and moral, in the ways of agriculture. But Henri favoured townspeople as well as country people, and with the Edict of Nantes, releasing from the bondage of terror a large number of workers, he showed much industry in encouraging tapestry factories in and near Paris, and as these all lead to Gobelins we will consider them. [Illustration: TRIUMPH OF THE GODS (DETAIL) Gobelins, Seventeenth Century] [Illustration: TRIUMPH OF THE GODS (DETAIL) Gobelins Tapestry] Henri IV, notwithstanding his Prime Minister Sully's opposition to what he considered a favouring of vicious luxury, began to occupy himself in tapestry factories as early in his reign as his people could rise from the wounds of war. Taking his movements chronologically we will begin with his establishment in 1597 (eight years after this first Bourbon took the throne) of a high-warp industry in the house of the Jesuits in the Faubourg St. Antoine, associating here Du Bourg of La Trinité and Laurent, equally renowned, and the composer of the St. Merri tapestries.[14] Flemish workers in Paris were at this same time, about 1601, encouraged by the king and under protection of his steward. These Flemings were the nucleus of a great industry, for it was over them that two famous masters governed, namely, François de la Planche and Marc Comans or Coomans. In 1607 Henri IV established the looms which these men were called upon to direct. These two Flemings, great in their art, were men of family and of some means, for their first venture in the manufacture of tapestry was a private enterprise like any of to-day. They looked to themselves to produce the money for the support of the industry. Combining qualities of both the artist and the business man, they took on apprentices and also established looms in the provinces (notably Tours and Amiens) where commercialism was as prominent as in modern methods; that is to say, that by turning off a lot of cheaper work for smaller purses, a quick and ready market was found which supplied the money necessary for the production of those finer works of art which are left to delight us to-day. This manner of procedure of De la Planche and Comans has an interest far deeper than the mere financial venture of the men of the early Seventeenth Century, because it forces upon us the fact that at that time, and earlier, no state ateliers existed. It was Henri IV who first saw the wisdom of using the public purse in advancing this industry. He established Du Bourg in the Louvre. With Henri Laurent he was placed in the Tuileries, in 1607, and that atelier lasted until the ministry of Colbert in the reign of Louis XIV. In about 1627 the great De la Planche died and his son, Raphael, established ateliers of his own in the Faubourg St. Germain, turning out from his looms productions which were of sufficient excellence to be confused with those of his father's most profitable factory. Chronologically this fact belongs later, so we return to the influence of Henri IV and the master gentleman tapissiers, De la Planche and Comans. The very name of the old palace, Les Tournelles, calls up a crowd of pictures: the death of Henri II at the tournament in honour of the marriage of his son with Marie Stuart, the subsequent razing of this ancient home of kings by Catherine de Medici, and its reconstruction in its present form by Henri IV. It is here that Richelieu honoured the brief reign of Louis XIII by a statue, and it is here that Madame de Sevigné was born. But more to our purpose, it was here that, in 1607, Henri IV cast his kingly eye when establishing a certain tapestry factory. It was here he placed as directors the celebrated Comans and De la Planche. It happened in time, that the looms of Les Tournelles were moved to the Faubourg St. Marceau and these two men came in time to direct these and all other looms under royal patronage. Examples are not wanting in museums of French work of this time, showing the development of the art and the progress that France was making under Henri IV, whose energy without limit, and whose interests without number, would to-day have given him the epithet of strenuous. Under his reign we see the activity that so easily led France up to the point where all that was needed was the assembling of the factories under the direction of one great master. The factories flourishing under Henri IV were La Trinité, the Louvre, the Savonnerie, the Faubourg St. Marceau and one in the Tuileries. But it needed the power of Louis XIV to tie all together in the strength of unity. The assassin Ravaillac, fanatically muttering through the streets of Paris, alternately hiding and swaggering throughout the loveliest month of May, when he thrust his murderous dagger through the royal coach, not only gave a death blow to Henri IV, but to many of these industries that the king had cherished for his people against the opposition of his prime minister. The tale of tapestry is like a vine hanging on a frame of history, and frequent allusion therefore must be made to the tales of kings and their ministers. As it is not always a monarch, but often the power behind the throne that rules, we see the force of Richelieu surging behind the reign of the suppressed Louis XIII, whose rule followed that of the regretted Henri IV. The master of the then new Palais-Royal had minor interests of his own, apart from his generous plots of ruin for the Protestants, for all the French nobility, and for the House of Austria to which the queen belonged. Luxurious surroundings were a necessity to this man, refined in the arts of cruelty and of living. It was no wonder that under him tapestry weaving was not allowed to die, but was fostered until that day when the Grand Monarch would organise and perfect. In 1643, Louis XIV came to the throne under the guidance of Anne of Austria, but it was many years before he was able to make his influence appreciable. Meanwhile, however, others were fostering the elegant industry. It was as early as 1647 that two celebrated tapestry weavers came to Paris from Italy. They were Pierre Lefèvre or Lefebvre and his son Jean. The first of these was the chief of a factory in Florence, whither he presently returned. Jean Lefebvre stayed in Paris, won his way all the better for being released from parental rule, and in time received the great honour of being appointed one of the directors of the Gobelins, when that factory was finally organised as an institution of the state. [Illustration: GOBELINS BORDER (DETAIL) SEVENTEENTH CENTURY] [Illustration: CHILDREN GARDENING After Charles Lebrun. Gobelins, Seventeenth Century. Château Henri Quatre, Pau] During the regency of Louis XIV there were also factories outside of Paris. The high-warp looms of Tours were of such notable importance that the great Richelieu placed here an order for tapestries of great splendour with which to soften his hours of ease. Rheims Cathedral still harbours the fine hangings which were woven for the place they now adorn, an unusual circumstance in the world of tapestry. These hangings (_The Story of Christ_) were woven at Rheims, where the factory existed well known throughout the first half of the Seventeenth Century. The church had previously ordered tapestries from another town executed by one Daniel Pepersack, and so highly approved was his work that he was made director of the Rheims factory.[15] A factory which lasted but a few years, yet has for us a special interest, is that of Maincy, founded in 1658. It is here that we hear of the great Colbert and of Lebrun, whose names are synonymous with prosperity of the Gobelins. For the factory at Maincy, Lebrun made cartoons of great beauty, notably that of _The Hunt of Meleager_, which now hangs in the Gobelins Museum in Paris. Louis Blamard was the director of the workmen, who were Flemish, and who were afterwards called to Paris to operate the looms of the newly-formed Gobelins, and the reason of the transference forms a part of the history of the great people of that day. Richelieu in dying had passed over his power to Mazarin, who had used it with every cruelty possible to the day. He had coveted riches and elegance and had possessed himself of them; had collected in his palace the most beautiful works of art of his day or those of a previous time. After Mazarin came Foucquet, the great, the iconoclastic, the unfortunate. It was at Foucquet's estate of Vaux near Maincy that this tapestry factory of short duration was established and soon destroyed. The powerful Superintendent of Finance, with his eye for the beautiful and desire for the luxury of kings, built for himself such a château as only the magnificence of that time produced. It was situated far enough from Paris to escape any sort of ennui, and was surrounded by gardens most marvellous, within a beauteous park. It lay, when finished, like a jewel on the fair bosom of France. The great superintendent conceived the idea of pleasing the young king, Louis XIV, by inviting the court for a wondrous fête in its lovely enclosure. Foucquet was a man of the world, and of the court, knew how to please man's lighter side, and how to use social position for his own ends. France calls him a "dilapidateur," but when his power and incidentally the revenues of state, were laid out to produce a day of pleasure for king and court, his taste and ability showed such a fête as could scarce be surpassed even in those days of artistic fêtes champêtres. The great gardens were brought into use in all the beauty of flower and vine, of lawn and bosquet, of terrace and fountain. When the guests arrived, weary of town life, they were turned loose in the enchanting place like birds uncaged, and to the beauty of Nature was added that of folk as gaily dressed as the flowers. The king was invited to inspect it all for his pleasure, asked to feast in the gardens, and to repose in the splendid château. He was young then, in the early twenties, and luxury was younger then than now, so he was pleased to spend the time in almost childish enjoyments. A play _al fresco_ was almost a necessity to a royal garden party, which was no affair of an hour like ours in the busy to-day, but extended the livelong day and evening. Molière was ready with his sparkling satires at the king's caprice, and into the garden danced the players before an audience to whom vaudeville and _café chantant_ were exclusively a royal novelty arranged for their delectation. It is easy to see the elegant young king and his court in the setting of a sophisticated out-of-doors, wandering on grassy paths, lingering under arches of roses, plucking a flower to nest beside a smiling face, stopping where servants--obsequious adepts, they were then--supplied dainty things to eat and drink. Madame de Sevigné was there, she of the observant eye, an eye much occupied at this time with the figure of Superintendent Foucquet, the host of this glorious occasion. This gracious lady lacked none of the appearance of frivolity, coiffed in curls, draped in lace and soft silks, but her mind was deeply occupied with the signs of the times. All the elegance of the château, all the seductive beauty of terrace, garden, and bosquet, all the piquant surprises of play and pyrotechnics, what were they? Simply the disinterested effort of a subject to give pleasure to His Majesty, the King. There were those present who had long envied Foucquet, with his ever-increasing power and wealth, his ability to patronise the arts, to collect, and even to establish his tapestry looms like a king, for his own palace and for gifts. This grand fête in the lovely month of June did more than shower pleasure, more than gratify the lust of the eye. In effect, it was a gathering of exquisite beauties and charming men, lost in light-hearted play; in reality, it proved to be an incitive to envy and malice, and a means to ruin. Among the observant guests at this wondrous fête champêtre was Colbert, young, ambitious, keen. He was not slow to see the holes in Foucquet's fabric, nor were others. And so, whispers came to the king. Foucquet's downfall is the old story of envy, man trying to climb by ruining his superiors, hating those whose magnificence approaches their own. Foucquet's unequalled entertainment of the king was made to count as naught. Louis, even before leaving for Paris, had begun to ask whence came the money that purchased this wide fertile estate stretching to the vision's limit, the money that built the château of regal splendour, the money that paid for the prodigal pleasures of that day of delights? Foucquet thought to have gained the confidence and admiration of the king. But, on leaving, Louis said coldly, "We shall scarce dare ask you to our poor palace, seeing the superior luxury to which you are accustomed." A fearful cut, but only a straw to the fate which followed, the investigations into the affairs of Superintendent Foucquet. His arrest and his conviction followed and then the eighteen dreary years of imprisonment terminating only with the superintendent's life. Madame de Sevigné saw him in the beginning, wept for her hero, but after a while she, too, fell away from his weary years. [Illustration: CHILDREN GARDENING After Charles Lebrun. Gobelins, Seventeenth Century. Château Henri Quatre, Pau] [Illustration: GOBELINS GROTESQUE Musée des Arts Decoratifs, Paris] With his arrest came the end of the glories of the Château of Vaux near Maincy, and so, too, came an end to the factory where so fine results had been obtained in tapestry weaving. Yet the effort was not in vain, for some of the tapestries remain and the factory was the school where certain celebrated men were trained. It may easily have been that Louis XIV discovered on that day at Vaux the excellence of Lebrun whom he made director at the Gobelins in Paris when they were but newly formed. Foucquet, wasting in prison, had many hours in which to think on this and on the advancement of the very man who had been keenest in running him to cover, the great Colbert. It was well for France, it was well for the artistic industry whose history occupies our attention, that these things happened; but we, nevertheless, feel a weakness towards the man of genius and energy caged and fretted by prison bars, for he had shown initiative and daring, qualities of which the world has ever need. Foucquet's factory lasted three years. It was directed by Louis Blamard or Blammaert of Oudenarde, and employed a weaver named Jean Zègre, who came from the works at Enghien, works sufficiently known to be remarked. Lebrun composed here and fell under the influence of Rubens, an influence that pervaded the grandiose art of the day. The earliest works of Lebrun, three pieces, were later used to complete a set of Rubens' _History of Constantine_. _The Muses_ was a set by Lebrun, also composed for the Château of Vaux. The charm of this set is a matter for admiration even now when, alas, all is destroyed but a few fragments. The disgrace of Foucquet was the last determining cause of the establishment of the Gobelins factory under Louis XIV, an act which after this brief review of Paris factories (and an allusion to sporadic cases outside of Paris) we are in position at last to consider. Pursuit of knowledge in regard to the Gobelins factory leads us through ways the most flowery and ways the most stormy, through sunshine and through the dark, right up to our own times. [Illustration: GOBELINS TAPESTRY, AFTER LEBRUN, EPOCH LOUIS XIV Collection of Wm. Baumgarten, Esq., New York] [Illustration: THE VILLAGE FÊTE Gobelins Tapestry after Teniers] FOOTNOTES: [14] For the facts here cited see E. Müntz, "Histoire de la Tapisserie," and Jules Guiffrey, "Les Gobelins." [15] See Loriquet, "Les Tapisseries de Notre Dame de Rheims." CHAPTER X THE GOBELINS FACTORY, 1662 Colbert saw the wisdom of taking direction for the king, Louis XIV, of the looms of Foucquet's château. Travel being difficult enough to make desirable the concentration of points of interest, Colbert transferred the looms of Vaux to Paris. To do this he had first to find a habitat, and what so suitable as the Hotel des Gobelins, a collection of buildings on the edge of Paris by which ran a little brook called the Bièvre. The Sieur Leleu was then the owner, and the sale of the buildings was made on June 6, 1662. This was the beginning only of the purchase, for Louis XIV added adjoining houses for the various uses of the large industries he had in mind, for the development of arts and crafts of all sorts, and for the lodging of the workers. The story of the original occupants of the premises is almost too well known to recount. The simple tale of the conscientious "dyers in scarlet" is told on the marble plaque at the present entry into the collection of buildings still standing, still open to visitors. It is a tale with a moral, an obvious simple moral with no need of Alice's Duchess to point it out, and it smacks strong of the honesty of a labour to which we owe so much. Late in the Fifteenth Century the brothers Gobelin came to the city of Paris to follow their trade, which was dyeing, and their ambition, which was to produce a scarlet dye like that they had seen flaunting in the glowing city of Venice. The trick of the trade in those days was to find a water of such quality that dyes took to it kindly. The tiny river, or rather brook, called the Bièvre, which ran softly down towards the Seine had the required qualities, and by its murmuring descent, Jean and Philibert pitched the tents of their fortune. They succeeded, too, so well that we hear of their descendants in later centuries as having become gentlemen, not of property only, but of cultivation, and far removed from trades or bartering. Their name is ever famous, for it tells not only the story of the two original dyers, but of their subsequent efforts in weaving, and finally it has come to mean the finest modern product of the hand loom. Just as Arras gave the name to tapestry in the Fourteenth Century, so the Gobelins has given it to the time of Louis XIV, even down to our own day--more especially in Europe, where the word tapestry is far less used than here. The tablet now at the Gobelins--let us re-read it, for in some hasty visit to the Latin Quarter we may have overlooked it. Translated freely it reads, "Jean and Philibert Gobelin, merchant dyers in scarlet, who have left their name to this quarter of Paris and to the manufacture of tapestries, had here their atelier, on the banks of the Bièvre, at the end of the Fifteenth Century." Another inscription takes a great leap in time, skips over the centuries when France was not in the lead in this art, and recommences with the awakening strength under the wise care of Henri IV. It reads: "April 1601. Marc Comans and François de la Planche, Flemish tapestry weavers, installed their ateliers on the banks of the Bièvre." "September 1667, Colbert established in the buildings of the Gobelins the manufacture of the furniture (_meubles_) of the Crown, under the direction of Charles Lebrun." The tablet omits the date that is fixed in our mind as that of the beginning of the modern tapestry industry in France, the year 1662, but that is only because it deals with a date of more general importance, the time when the Gobelins was made a manufactory of all sorts of gracious products for the luxury of palaces and châteaux, not tapestries alone, but superb furniture, and metal work, inlay, mounting of porcelains and all that goes to furnish the home of fortunate men. In that year of 1667 was instituted the ateliers supported by the state, not dependent upon the commercialism of the workers. This made possible the development of such men as Boulle with his superb furniture, of Riesner with his marquetry, of Caffieri with his marvels in metal to decorate all _meubles_, even vases, which were then coming from China in their beauty of solid glaze or eccentric ornament. Here lies the great secret of the success of Louis XIV in these matters, with the coffers of the Crown he rewarded the artists above the necessity of mere living, and freed each one for the best expression of his own especial art. The day of individual financial venture was gone. The tapestry masters of other times had both to work and to worry. They had to be artists and at the same time commercial men, a chimerical combination. The expense of maintaining a tapestry factory was an incalculable burden. A man could not set up a loom, a single one, as an artist sets up an easel, and in solitude produce his woven work of art. Other matters go to the making of a tapestry than weaving, matters which have to do with cartoons for the design, dyes, wools, threads, etc.; so that many hands must be employed, and these must all be paid. The apprentice system helped much, but even so, the master of the atelier was responsible for his finances and must look for a market for his goods. What a relief it was when the king took all this responsibility from the shoulders and said to the artists and artisans, "Art for Art's sake," or whatever was the equivalent shibboleth of that day. Here was comfort assured for the worker, with a housing in the Gobelins, or in that big asylum, the Louvre, where an apartment was the reward of virtue. And now was a market assured for a man's work, a royal market, with the king as its chief, and his favourites following close. The ateliers scattered about Paris were allied in spirit, were all the result of the encouragement of preceding monarchs, but it remained for Le Grand Monarque to gather all together and form a state solidarity. Kings must have credit, even though others do the work. It was the labour of the able Colbert to organise this factory. He was in favour then. It was after his acuteness had helped in deposing the splendid brigand Foucquet, and his power was serving France well, so well that he brought about his head the inevitable jealousy which finally threw him, too, into unmerited disgrace. Colbert, then, although a Minister of State, head of the Army of France, and a few other things, had the fate of the Gobelins in his hand. As the ablest is he who chooses best his aids, Colbert looked among his countrymen for the proper director of the newly-organised institution. He selected Charles Lebrun. The very name seems enough, in itself. It is the concrete expression of ability, not only as an artist, but as a leader of artists, a director, an assembler, a blender. He called to the Gobelins, as addition to those already there, the apprentices from La Trinité, the weavers from the Faubourg St. Germain, and from the Louvre. He established three ateliers of high-warp under Jean Jans, Jean Lefebvre and Henri Laurent; also two ateliers of low-warp under Jean Delacroix and Jean-Baptiste Mozin. When charged with the decoration of Versailles he had under his direction fifty artists of differing scopes, which alone would show his power of assembling and leading, of blending and ordering. Workers at the Gobelins numbered as many as two hundred fifty, and apprentices were legion. Ten or twelve important artists composed the designs for tapestries, yet the mind of Lebrun is seen to dominate all; his genius was their inspiration. It was he whose influence pervaded the decorative art of the day. More than any others in that grand age he influenced the tone of the artistic work. We may say it was the king, we may have styles named for the king, but it was Lebrun who made them what they were. The spirit of the time was there, monarch and man made that, but it was Lebrun who had the talent to express it in art. It was a time when France was fully awake, more fully awake than Italy who had, in fact, commenced the somnolence of her art; she was strong with that brutal force that is recently up from savagery, and she took her grandeur seriously. At least that was the attitude of the king. No lightness, no effervescing cynical humour ever disturbed the heavy splendour of his pose. And this grand pose of the king, Lebrun expressed in the heavy sumptuousness of decoration. The tapestries of that time show the mood of the day in subject, in border and in colour. All is superb, grandiose. Rubens, although not of France, dominated Europe with his magnificence of style, a style suited to the time, expressing force rather than refinement, yet with a splendid decorative value in the art we are considering. Flanders looked to him for inspiration, and his lead was everywhere followed. His virile work had power to inspire, to transmit enthusiasm to others, and thus he was responsible for much of the improvement in decorative art, the re-establishment of that art upon an intellectual basis. Designs from his hands were full, splendid and self-assertive; harmony and proportion were there. A study of the _Antony and Cleopatra_ series and of the plates given in this volume will establish and verify this. [Illustration: DESIGN BY RUBENS] [Illustration: DESIGN BY RUBENS] Lebrun's century was the same as that of Rubens, but the former had the fine feeling for art of the Latin, who knows that its first province is to please. A comparison between the two men must not be carried too far, for Rubens was essentially a painter, attacking the field of decoration only with the overflow of imagination, while Lebrun's life and talent were wholly directed in the way of beautifying palaces and châteaux. Yet Rubens' work gave a fresh impulse to tapestry weaving in Brussels while Lebrun was inspiring it in France. Lebrun had, then, to direct the talent and the labour of an army of artists and artisans, and to keep them working in harmony. It was no mean task, for one artist alone was not left to compose an entire picture, but each was taken for his specialty. One artist drew the figures, another the animals, another the trees, and another the architecture; but it was the director, Lebrun, who composed and harmonised the whole. Thus, although the number of tapestries actually composed by him is few, it was his great mind that ordered the work of others. He was the leader of the orchestra, the others were the instruments he controlled. It was while at Vaux that Lebrun had more time for his own composition. He there produced a series called _Les Renommés_, masterpieces of pure decorative composition. These were designed as portières for the Château of Maincy. They came to be models for the Gobelins, and were woven to hang at royal doors, the doors of Foucquet being at this time dressed with iron bars. The Gobelins wove seventy-two sets after this beautiful model which had made Lebrun's début as an artist. Foucquet had given him a more pretentious work; it was to complete a suite, the _History of Constantine_, after Raphael. Rubens had given a fresh flush of popularity to this subject, which again became the mode. The _History of Meleager_ was begun at Vaux and finished at the Gobelins. Later, Vaux forgotten, or at least a thing of the past, Lebrun's decorative genius found expression in the series called _The Months_ or _The Royal Residences_, of which there were twelve hangings. In these last the scheme is the perfection of decoration, with the subject well subdued, yet so subtly placed that notwithstanding its modesty, the eye promptly seeks it. The castle in the distance, the motive holding aloft the sign of the Zodiac, are seen even before the splendid columns and the foliage of the middle-ground. Such a hanging has power to play pretty tricks with the imagination of him who gazes upon it. The columns, smooth and solid, declare him at once to be in a place of luxury. Beyond the foreground's columns, but near enough for touching, are trees to make a pleasant shade, and beyond, in the far distance, is the château set in fair gardens, even the château where the lovely Louise de la Vallière held her court until conscience drove her to the convent. The set of most renown, woven under Lebrun's generalship, was that splendid advertisement of the king's magnificence known as the _History of the King_. Louis demanded above all else that he should appear splendidly before men. He was jealous of the magnificence of all kings and emperors, whether living or dead. Even Solomon's glory was not to typify greater than his. With this end in view, pomp was his pleasure, ceremony was his gratification. Add to these an insatiable vanity that knows not the disintegrating assaults of a sense of humour, and we have a man to be fed on profound adulation. [Illustration: DESIGN BY RUBENS] [Illustration: GOBELINS TAPESTRY. DESIGN BY RUBENS Royal Collection, Madrid] The subjects for the _History of the King_ were chosen from official solemnities during the first twelve years of his reign. Lebrun's task, into which he threw his whole soul, was to celebrate the power and the glory of his master, to show the king in perpetual picture as the greatest living personage, and to still his fears with regard to long defunct royal rivals. His life as a man was pictured, his marriage, his treaties with other nations, and his actions as a soldier in the various battles or military conquests. In the latter affairs he had not even been present, but poet's license was given where the glorification of the king was concerned. The flattery that surrounds a king thus gave him reason to think that his persecutions in the Palatinate and his constant warfare were greatly to his glory. It is the tapestry in this set that is called _Visit of Louis XIV to the Gobelins_ that interests us strongly, as being delightfully pertinent to our subject. The picture shows the king in chary indulgence standing just within the court of the Royal Factory, while eager masters of arts and crafts strenuously heap before him their masterpieces. (Plate facing page 114.) The borders of these sumptuous hangings are to be enjoyed when the original set can be seen, for the borders are Lebrun's special care. The three pieces added late in the reign are drawn with different borders, and no stronger example of deteriorating change can be given, the change in the composition of the border which took place after the passing of Lebrun. The pieces in the set of the _Life of the King_ numbered forty; with the addition of the later ones, forty-three. They were repeated many times in the succeeding years, but on low-warp, reduced in size, and without the superb decorative border which was composed by Lebrun's own hand for the original series. François de la Meulen was Lebrun's able coadjutor in the direction of this famous set. Eight artists accustomed to the work were charged with the cartoons, but Lebrun headed it all. It is interesting to note that the temptation to sport in the fields of pure decoration, led him into the personal composition of the border. These borders are the very acme of perfection in decoration, full of strength, of grace, and of purity. They suggest the classic, yet are full of the warm blood of the hour; they are Greek, yet they are French, and they foreshadow the centuries of beautiful design which France supplies to the world. The colouring of these tapestries seems to us strong, but it is not a strength of tone that offends, rather it adds force to the subject. The charge is made that in this suite the deplorable change had taken place which lifted tapestries from their original intent and made of them paintings in wool. That change certainly did come later, as we shall see and deplore, but at present the colours kept comparatively low in number. The proof of this was that only seventy-nine tones were discoverable when the Gobelins factory in recent years examined this hanging for the purposes of reproducing it. [Illustration: LOUIS XIV VISITING THE GOBELINS FACTORY Gobelins Tapestry, Epoch Louis XIV] Lebrun's task in this series seems to us far more simple in point of picturesqueness than it did to him, for the affairs of the time were those depicted. They were the events of the moment, and the personages taking part in them were given in recognisable portraiture. Figure a tapestry of to-day depicting the laying of a cornerstone by our National President, every one in modern dress, every face a portrait, and Lebrun's task appears in a new light. Yet he was able to accomplish it in a way which gratified the overfed vanity of Louis and which more than gratifies the art lover of to-day. The set called the _History of Alexander_ is one of Lebrun's famous works. In subject it departs from the affairs of the time of the Sun King, to portray the Greek Conqueror, to whom Louis liked to be compared. For us the classic dress is less piquant than the gorgeous toilettes of France in the Seventeenth Century, and the battle of the Granicus is less engaging than scenes from the life of Louis XIV. But this is a famous set, and paintings of the same may be found in the Louvre. Originally the tapestries were but five, but the larger ones having been divided into three each, the number is increased. The Gobelins factory wove several sets, and, the model becoming popular, it was copied many times in Brussels and elsewhere, often with distressing alterations in drawing, in border, and in colour. There were other suites produced at the Gobelins at this wonderful time of co-operation between Colbert, the minister, and Lebrun, the artist. Colbert, in his wisdom of state economy, had repaired the ravages of the previous ministry, and had the coffers full for the government's necessities and the king's indulgences. Well for the liberal arts, that he counted these among the matters to be fostered in this wonderful time, which rises like a mountain ridge between feudal savagery and modern civilisation. But Colbert, powerful as was his position, had yet to suffer by reason of the despotism of the absolute monarch who ruled every one within borders of bleeding France. Louis began, before youth had left him, the terrible persecution of the people in the name of religion, and established also an indulgent left-hand court. The prodigious expenditures for these were bound to be liquidated by Colbert. Faithful to his master, he produced the money. The charm of royalty surrounded Louis, he was idealised by a people proud of his position as the most magnificent monarch of Europe; but Colbert was denounced as a tax collector and a persecutor, yet suffered in silence, if he might protect his king. Before he died, Louvois had undermined his credit even with the king, and his funeral at night, to avoid a mob, was a pathetic fact. France has now reinstated him, say modern men--but that is the irony of fate. CHAPTER XI THE GOBELINS FACTORY (_Continued_) Colbert died most inopportunely in 1684 and was succeeded by his enemy, and for that matter, the enemy of France, the man of jealousy and cruelty, Louvois. He had long hated Colbert for his success, counting as an affront to himself Colbert's marvellous establishment of a navy which he felt rivalled in importance the army, over which the direction was his own. On finding Colbert's baton in his hand, it was but human to strike with it as much as to direct, and one of his blows fell upon the head of the Gobelins, Lebrun. Thus history is woven into tapestry. Lebrun was not at once deposed; first his magnificent wings were clipped, so that his flights into artistic originality were curtailed. This petty persecution had a benumbing effect. New models were not encouraged. Strangely enough, the scenes that glorified the king were no longer reproduced, nor those of antique kings like Alexander, whose greatness Louis was supposed to rival. It is not possible to tell the story of tapestry without telling the story of the times, for the lesser acts are but the result of the greater. There are matters in the life of Louis XIV that are inseparable from our account. These are the associating of his life with that of the three women whom he exalted far higher than his queen, Marie Thérèse, the well-known, much-vaunted mesdames, de la Vallière, de Montespan and de Maintenon. Even before the death of Colbert, Louvois, with his army, had encouraged the religious persecutions and wars of the king, and shortly after, the widow of the poet Scarron became the royal spouse. Relentless, indeed, were the persecutions then. It was in the same year of the marriage that Louis revoked the Edict of Nantes, through the hand of the weak Le Tellier, an action which gave Louvois ample excuse for depleting the state coffers. Making military expense an excuse, he turned his blighting hand toward the Gobelins and restricted the director, Lebrun, even to denying him the golden threads so necessary for the production of the sumptuous tapestries. And so for a time the productions of the looms lacked their accustomed elegance. Under Madame de Maintenon, the spirit of a morose religion pervaded the court. All France was suffering under it, and in its name unbelievable horrors were perpetrated in every province. Paris was not too well informed of these to interfere with bourgeois life, but at court the hypocritical soul of Madame de Maintenon made self-righteousness a virtue. An almost laughable result of this pious rectitude was a certain order given at the Gobelins. Madame de Maintenon had thrust her leading nose between the doors of the factory and had scented outraged modesty in the reproduction there of the tapestries woven from models of Raphael, Giulio Romano and the classicists, cartoons in great favour after the hampering of Lebrun's imagination. The naked gods from Olympus must be clothed, said this pious and modest lady. This was very well for her rôle, as her influence over the king lay deep-rooted in her pose of heavy virtue; but at the Gobelins, the tapestry-makers must have laughed long and loud at the prudery which they were set to further by actually weaving pictured garments and setting them into the hangings where the lithe limbs of Apollo, and Venus' lovely curves, had been cut away. The hanging called _The Judgment of Paris_ is one of those altered to suit the refinement of the times. Louvois' dominance lasted as long as Lebrun, so the genius of the latter never reasserted itself in the factory. Two methods of supply for designs came in vogue, and mark the time. One was to turn to the old masters of Italy's high Renaissance for drawings. This brought a quantity of drawings of fables and myths into use, so that palace walls were decorated with Greek gods instead of modern ones. Raphael, as a master in decoration, was carefully copied, also other men of his school. The second source of cartoons was chosen by Louvois, who searched among previous works for the most celebrated tapestries and had them copied without change. Thus came the Gobelins to reproduce hangings that had not originated in their ateliers. All this traces the change that came from the clipping of Lebrun's wings of genius. Identification marks they are, when old tapestries come our way. Pierre Mignard succeeded Lebrun as director of the Gobelins after the death of the greatest genius of decoration in modern times. Lebrun had seen such prosperity of tapestry weaving that eight hundred workers had scarcely been enough to supply the tapestries ordered. When Mignard came for his five years of direction, things had mightily changed, and he did nothing to revive or encourage the work. He owed his appointment entirely to Louvois, whose protégé he had long been. The same year, 1691, saw the death of them both. Until 1688 the factory was at its best time of productiveness, reaching the perfection of modern drawing in its cartoons, and, in its weaving, equalling the manner of Brussels in the early Sixteenth Century. From then on began the decline, for the reasons so forcibly written on pages of history. The French king's ambition to conquer, his animosity--jealousy, if you will--toward Holland, his unceasing conflict with England, added to his fierce attacks on religionists, especially in the Palatinate--all these things required the most stupendous expenditures. The Mississippi was now discovered, the English colonists were in conflict with the French, here in America, and the New World was becoming too desirable a possession for Louis to be willing to cede his share without a struggle; and thus came the expense of fighting the English in that far land which was at least thirty days' sail away. Perhaps Mignard worked against odds too great for even a strong director. Such drains on the state treasury as were made by the self-indulgent court, and by the political necessities, demanded not only depriving the Gobelins of proper expensive materials, but in the department of furniture and ornaments, demanded also the establishment of a sinister melting pot, a hungry mouth that devoured the precious metals already made more precious by the artistic hands of the gold-working artists. Mignard's futile work was finished by his demise in 1695. Such was then the pitiable conditions at the Gobelins that it was not considered worth while to fill his place. Thus ended the first period of that beautiful conception, art sustained by the state, artists relieved from all care except that of expressing beauty. The ateliers were closed; the weavers had to seek other means of gaining their living. The busy Gobelins, a very Paradise of workers, an establishment which felt itself the pride of Paris and the pet of the king, full of merry apprentices and able masters, this happy solidarity fell under neglect. The courtyards were lonely; the Bièvre rippled by unused; the buildings were silent and deserted. Some of the workers were happy enough to be taken in at Beauvais, some returned to Flanders, but many were at the miserable necessity of dropping their loved professions and of joining the royal troops, for which the relentless ambition of the king had such large and terrible use. The time when the factory remained inactive were the dolorous years from 1694 to 1697. It was in the latter year that peace was signed in the Holland town of Ryswick, which ended at least one of Louis' bloody oppressions, the fierce attacks in the Palatinate. The place of Colbert was never filled, so far as the Gobelins was concerned. Louvois had not its interests in his hard hands, nor had his immediate followers in state administrations up to 1708, which included Mansard (of the roofs) and the flippity courtesan, the Duc d'Antin. But power was later given to Jules Robert de Cotte to raise the fallen Gobelins by his own wise direction, assisted by his father's political co-operation (1699-1735). Once again can we smile in thinking of the factory where the wares of beauty were produced. Of course, the artists flocked to the centre, eager to express themselves. The one most interesting to us was Claude Audran. Others there were who contributed adorable designs and helped build up the most exquisite expressions of modern art, but, alas, their modesty was such that their names are scarce known in connexion with the art they vivified. The aged Louis was ending his forceful reign in increasing weakness, deserted at the finish by all but the rigid de Maintenon; and four-year-old Louis, the grandson of the Grand Dauphin, was succeeding under the direction of the Regent of Orleans. New monarchs, new styles, the rule was; for the newly-crowned must have his waves of flattery curling about the foot of the throne. Louis XIV, the Grand Monarque, lived to his pose of heavy magnificence even in the furnishing and decorating of the apartments where he ruled as king and where he lived as man. Sumptuous splendour, expressed in heavy design, in deep colouring, with much red and gold, these were the order of the day, and best expressed the reign. But with Philip as regent, and the young king but a baby, a gayer mood must creep into the articles of beauty with which man self-indulgently decorates his surroundings. Pomp of a heavy sort had no place in the regent's heart. He saw life lightly, and liked to foster the belief that a man might make of it a pretty play. Thus, given so good excuse for a new school of decoration, Claude Audran snatched up his talented brush and put down his dainty inspirations with unfaltering delicacy of touch. He wrote upon his canvas poems in life, symphonies in colour, created a whole world of tasteful fancy, a world whose entire intent was to please. He left the heavy ways of pomp and revelled in a world where roses bloom and ribbons flutter, where clouds are strong to support the svelte deity upon them, and where the rudest architecture is but an airy trellis. The classic, the Greek, he never forgot. It was ever his inspiration, his alphabet with which he wrote the spirit of his composition, but it was a classic thought played upon with the most talented of variations. Pure Greek was too cold and chaste for the temper of the time in which he lived and worked and of which he was the creature; and so his classic foundation was graced with curves, with colour, with artful abandon, and all the charming fripperies of one of the most exquisite periods of decoration. Gods and goddesses were a necessary part of such compositions, and a continual playing among amorini, but such deities lived not upon Olympus, nor anywhere outside France of the Eighteenth Century. The heavy human forms made popular by the inflation of the Seventeenth Century were banished to some dark haven reserved for by-gone modes, and these new gods were exquisite as fairies while voluptuous as courtesans. They were all caught young and set, while still adolescent and slender, in suitable niches of delicate surroundings. The talent of Audran, not content with figures alone, was lavishly expended on those ingenious decorative designs which formed the frame and setting of the figures, the airy world in which they lived and in the borders that confined the whole. Only a study of tapestries or their photographs can show the radical depth of the change from the styles prevailing under the influence of Madame de Maintenon to those produced by Audran and his school under the regence. The difference in character of the two dominations is the very evident cause. It is as though the severe moral pose of de Maintenon had suppressed a whole Pandora's box of loves and graces who, when the lid was lifted by the Regent, flew, a happy crew, to fix themselves in dainty decorative effect, trailing with them their complement of accessory flowers, butterflies, clouds and tempered grotesques. Philippe d'Orleans, under the influence of the corrupt cleverness of Cardinal du Bois, celebrated the few years of his regency by bankrupting France with John Law's financial fallacies (this was the time of the South Sea Bubble and the Mississippi scheme) and by returning to Spain her princess as unsuited for the boy king's mate--with war as the natural result of that insult. But he also let artists have their way, and the style that they supplied him, shows a talented invention unsurpassed. Audran we will place at the top, but only to fix a name, for there was a whole army of men composing the tapestry designs that so delighted the people of those days and that have gone on thrilling their beholders for two hundred years, and which distinguish French designs from all others--which give them that indefinable quality of grace and softness that we denominate French. Wizards in design were the artists who developed it and those who continue it in our own times. CHAPTER XII THE GOBELINS FACTORY (_Continued_) Audran had in his studio André Watteau, whose very name spells sophisticated pastorals of exceeding loveliness. Watteau worked with Audran when he was producing his most inspired set of tapestry, on which we must dwell for a bit for pure pleasure. This set is called the _Portières des Dieux_. That they were portières, only door-hangings, is a fact too important to be slipped by. It denotes one of the greatest changes in tapestries when the size of a hanging comes down from twenty or thirty feet to the dimensions of a doorway. It speaks a great change in interiors, and sets tapestries on a new plane. Later on, they are still further diminished. But the sadness of noting this change is routed by the thrills of pleasure given by the exquisite design, colour and weave. The _Portières of the Gods_ was, then, a series of eight small hangings, four typifying the seasons and four the elements, with an appropriate Olympian forming the central point of interest and the excuse for an entourage of thrilling and graceful versatility. This set has been copied so many times that even the most expert must fail in trying to identify the date of reproduction. Two hundred and thirty times this set is known to have been reproduced, and such talented weavers were given the task as Jans and Lefebvre. [Illustration: GOBELINS TAPESTRY. TIME OF LOUIS XV] In this exquisite period, which might be called the adolescence of the style Louis XV, Audran and his collaborators produced another marvellous and inspired set of portières. These were executed for the Grand Dauphin, to decorate his room in the château at Meudon, and were called the _Grotesque Months in Bands_. The most self-sufficient of pens would falter at a description of design so exquisite, which is arranged in three panels with a deity in each, a composition of extraordinary grace above and below them, and a bordering band of losenge or diaper, on which is set the royal double L and the significant dolphin who gave his name to kings' sons. The exquisite art of Audran and of the regence cannot be better seen than in this set of tapestries which was woven but once at the royal factory, although repeated many times elsewhere with the border altered, Audran's being too personal for other chambers than that of the prince for whom it was composed. Recently copies have been made without border. The name of the artist, Charles Coypel, must not be overlooked, for it was he who composed the celebrated suite of _Don Quixote_. Twenty-eight pieces composed the series, and they were drawn with that exquisite combination of romantic scenes and fields of pure decorative design that characterised the charm of the regence. In the centre of each piece (small pieces compared to those of Louis XIV) was a scene like a painting representing an incident from the adventure of the humorously pathetic Spanish wanderer; and this was surrounded with so much of refined decoration as to make it appear but a medallion on the whole surface. This set was so important as to be repeated many times and occupied the factory of the Gobelins from 1718 to 1794. Charles Coypel was but twenty when he composed the first design for this suite. Each year thereafter he added a new design, not supplying the last one until 1751. But, while all honour is due Coypel, Audran and Le Maire and their collaborators must be remembered as having composed the borders, the pure decorative work which expresses the tender style of transition, the suggestive period of early spring that later matured into the fulsome Rococo. America is enriched by five of these exquisite pieces through Mr. Morgan's recent purchase. But while artists were producing purity in art, those in political power were, with ever-increasing effect, plunging morals into the mud. Philippe, the Regent, died, the corrupt Duke of Bourbon took the place of minister, and poor Louis XV was still but thirteen years old, and unavoidably influenced by the lives of those around him. Even the Gobelins was under the hand of the shallow Duke d'Antin. Yet even when the king matured and became himself a power for corruption, the artists of the Gobelins reflected only beauty and light. It is to their credit. It is an ungrateful task to pick flaws with a period so firmly enthroned in the affections as that of the regence and the early years of the reign of Louis XV. The beauties of its pure decoration lead us into Elysian fields that are but reluctantly left behind. But the designs and tapestry weavers of that time left us two distinct classes of production, and to be learned in such matters, the amateur contemplates both. This second style is ungrateful because it trains us away from art, delicate and ingenious, and plants us before enormous woven paintings. Now it never had been the intention of tapestry to replace painting. Whenever it leaned that way a deterioration was evident. It was by the lure of this fallacy that Brussels lost her pre-eminence. It was through this that the number of tones was increased from the twenty or more of Arras to the twenty thousand of the Gobelins. It was through this that the true mission of tapestry was lost, which was the mission of supplying a soft, undulating lining to the habitat of man, and flashes of colour for his pageants. Under Louis XIV the pictures came thick and fast, as we have seen, but in deep-toned, simple colour-scheme. Now, with the De Cottes as directors at the Gobelins, and with a new reign begun, more pictures were called for. The splendid _History of the King_ of Louis XIV could not be forgotten; the history of his successor must be similarly represented, and what could this be but a series of woven paintings. The flower of the time was an exquisitely complicated decoration on a small scale. The larger expression was not spontaneous. Louis XV, poor boy, was not old enough to have had many events outside the nursery, so it took imagination--perhaps that of the elegant profligate, Duke d'Antin--to suggest an occasion of appropriate splendour and significance. The official reception of the Turkish ambassador in 1721 was the subject chosen, and under the direction of Charles Parrocel became a superb work, full of court magnificence of the day and a valuable portrayal to us of the boyhood of the king. The same type of big picture was continued in the series of _Hunts of Louis XV_, lovely forest scenes wherein much unsportsmanlike elegance displays itself in the persons of noble courtiers. The Duc d'Antin favoured these and they were reproduced until 1745. It is probable that the Bible fell into neglect in those days, too heavy a volume for pointed, perfumed fingers accustomed to no books at all. Bossuet, Voltaire, were they not obliged to set to the sonorous music of their voices the reforming and satirical attacks on manners and morals of the aristocrats at a time when books lay all unread? But at the Gobelins ateliers the Bible, wiped clean of dust, was much consulted for inspiration in cartoons. Charles Coypel dipped into the Old Testament, and Jouvenet into the New, with the result of several suites of tapestries of great elegance--all of which might much better have been painted on canvas and framed. Charles Coypel, the talented member of a talented family of painters, also made popular the heroine _Armide_, who seemed almost to come of the Bible, since Tasso had set her in his Christian _Jerusalem Delivered_. The seductive palace and entrancing gardens where Renaud was kept a prisoner, gave opportunity for fine drawing in this set. [Illustration: HUNTS OF LOUIS XV Gobelins, G. Audran after Cartoon by Oudry] [Illustration: ESTHER AND AHASUERUS SERIES Gobelins, about 1730. Cartoon by J. F. de Troy; G. Audran, weaver] The Iliad of Homer came in for its share of consideration at the hands of Antoine and Charles Coypel, who made of it a set of five scenes. It was Romanelli, the Italian, who painted a similar set, a hundred years before, for Cardinal Barberini, which set came to America in the Ffoulke collection. After the death, in 1730, of the Duke d'Antin, that interesting son of Madame de Montespan, several directors had the management of the Gobelins in hand, the Count of Vignory and the Count of Angivillier being the most important prior to the Revolution. These were men who held the purse-strings of the state, and could thereby foster or crush a state institution, but the direction of the Gobelins itself, as a factory, was in the hands of architects, beginning with the able De Cotte. As the factory had many ateliers, these were each directed by painters, among whom appear such interesting men of talent as Oudry, Boucher, Hallé. Although d'Antin was dead when it commenced, he is accredited with having inspired and ordered the important hanging known as the _History of Esther_. (Plate facing page 131.) The first piece, from cartoons by Jean François de Troy, was sent to the weavers in 1737, and the last piece, which was painted in Rome, was finished in 1742. This set shows as ably as any can, the magnificent style of production of the period. It had from the beginning an immense popularity and was copied many times. Even now it is a favourite subject for those whose perverted taste leads them into the dubious art of copying tapestry in paints on cloth. The serious accusation against this set, which in composition seems much like the tableaux in grand opera, is that it invades the art of painting. And that is the fault of woven art at that period. The decline in tapestry in Paris began when both weavers and painters struggled for the same results, the weavers quite forgetting the strength and beauty that were peculiar to their art alone. This fault cannot be laid to the weavers only, who numbered such men as Neilson the able Scot, and Cozette, who, with wondrous touch, wove the set of _Don Quixote_; nor were the artists at fault, for they included such men as Audran and Boucher. No, it was the director who blighted and subverted talent, and the vitiated public taste that shifted restlessly and demanded novelty. The novelty that came in large hangings was a suppressing of the delicate subjects that delight the imagination by their playful grace, their association of human life with all that is gaily exquisite. The mode was for leaving the land of idealised mythology, for discarding the flowers, the scrolls, the happy loves and charming crew that lived among them, and for plunging into Roman history, real and ugly, enwrapped in drapings too full, cumbered with forced accessory, or into such mythology as is represented in _Cupid and Psyche_. (Plate facing page 132.) The _History of Esther_ illustrates the loss of imagination sustained by the border which had come to be a mere woven imitation, in shades of brown and yellow, of a carved and gilded, wooden frame. At the close of the reign of Louis XV, borders were frankly abandoned altogether. Compare this state of things with the days when Audran and Coypel were producing the sets of _The Seasons_, _The Months_, and _Don Quixote_. It is aridness compared to talented invention. [Illustration: CUPID AND PSYCHE Gobelins Tapestry. Eighteenth Century. Design by Coypel] [Illustration: PORTRAIT OF CATHERINE OF RUSSIA Gobelins under Louis XVI.] The top note of the imitation of painting was struck when the Gobelins set the task of becoming a portrait maker. (Plate facing page 133.) The work was done, it was bound to be, as royalty backed the demand. Portraits were woven of Louis XV (to be seen now at Versailles), and his queen, of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, and others less well known. A better scheme for limiting the talent of the weaver could not have been suggested by his most ingenious enemy. He was a man of talent or his art had not reached so high, and as such must be untrammelled; but here was given him a work where personal discretion was not allowed, where he must copy tone for tone, shade by shade, the myriad indefinite blendings of the brush. It is this practice, pursued to its end, that has made of the tapestry weaver a mere part of a machine, and tapestry-making a lost art, to remain in obscurity until weavers return to the time before the French decadence. The temper of those who hold in their hands the direction of the people, these are the determining causes of the products of that age. If d'Angivillier was responsible for displacing a transcendent art with a false one, if he routed a dainty mythology and its accessories with the heavy effort and paraphernalia of the Romans, on whom shall we place the entirely supportable responsibility of diminishing tapestries from noble draperies down to mere furniture coverings? The result came happily, with much fluttering of fans, dropping of handkerchiefs, with powder, patches, intrigues, naughty sports, and a general necessity for a gay company to divide itself into groups of four or two--a lady and a cavalier, forsooth--the inevitable man and maid. In the time of the preceding king, Louis XIV, the court lived in masses. Life was a pageant, a grand one, moving in slow dignity of gorgeous crowds, but a pageant on which beat the fierce light of a throne jealous of its grandeur. No chance was here for sweet escape and no chance for light communing. But all that saw a change. The needs of the lighter court and the lighter people, were for reminders that life is a merry dance in which partners change often, and sitting-out a figure with one of them is part of the game. Perhaps the huge apartments were not to the taste of Regent Philippe, and certainly they were not convenient to the life of the king when he came to man's estate. So, down came the ceiling's height, and closer drew the walls, until the model of the Petit Trianon was reached and considered the ideal--if that were not indeed the miniature Swiss Cottage. What place had an acre of tapestry in these little rooms? How could yards of undulating colour hang over walls that were already overlaid with the most exquisite low relief in wood that has ever been carved this side of the Renaissance in Italy? No place for it whatever. So, out with it--the fashions have changed. But there was the furniture. That, too, was smaller than hitherto. But this was the day of artists skilled in small design, and they must fill the need. CHAPTER XIII THE GOBELINS FACTORY (_Continued_) And so it came about that tapestry fell from the walls, shrunk like a pricked balloon and landed in miniature on chairs, sofas and screens. How felt the artists about this domesticating of their art? We are not told of the wry face they made when, with ideals in their souls, they were set to compose chair-seats for the Pompadour. Her preference was for Boucher. Perhaps his revenge showed itself by treating the bourgeoise courtisane to a bit of coarseness now and then, slyly hid in dainties. The artist, Louis Tessier, appeased himself by composing for furniture a design of simple bouquets of flowers thrown on a damask background; but, with such surety of hand, such elegance, are these ornaments designed and composed, that he who but runs past them must feel the power of their exquisite beauty. In this manufacture of small pieces the Gobelins factory unhappily put itself on the same footing as Beauvais and much confusion of the products has since resulted. The dignity of the art was lowered when the size and purpose of tapestries were reduced to mere furniture coverings. The age of Louis XV, looked at decoratively, was an age of miniature, and the reign that followed was the same. When small chambers came into vogue, furniture diminished to suit them, and not only were walls too small for tapestries to hang on, but chairs, sofas and screens offered less space than ever before for woven designs, now preciously fine in quality and minutiæ. Tapestry weaving now entered the region of fancy-work for the drawing-room's idle hour, and we see even the king himself, lounging idly among his favourite companions, working at a tiny loom, his latest pretty toy. Compare this trifling with the attitude of Henri IV and Louis XIV toward tapestry weaving, and we have the situation in a nutshell. Louis XV passed from the scene, likewise the charming bits of immorality who danced through his reign. However much we may disapprove their manner of life, we are ever glad that their taste sanctioned--more than that--urged, the production of a decorative style almost unsurpassed. To the artists belong the glory, but times were such that an artist must die of suppression if those in power refuse to patronise his art. So we are glad that Antoinette Poisson appreciated art, and that Jeanne Verbernier made of it a serious consideration, for, what was liked by La Pompadour and Du Barry must needs be favoured by the king. When Louis XVI came to the throne, the return to antiquity for inspiration had already begun, but did not fully develop until later on, when David became court painter under Napoleon. Yet the tonic note of decoration was classic. Designs were still small and details were from Greek inspiration. As tapestries were still but furniture coverings, this was not to be regretted, for nothing could be better suited to small spaces, nor could drawing be more exquisitely pure and chaste than when copied from Greek detail. [Illustration: CHAIR OF TAPESTRY. STYLE OF LOUIS XV] [Illustration: GOBELINS TAPESTRY (DETAIL) CRAMOISÉE. STYLE LOUIS XV] Count d'Angivillier kept the Gobelins factory from all originality, sanctioned only the small wares for original work, and forced a slavish copying of paintings for the larger pieces. It is not deniable that some beautiful hangings were produced, but the sad result is that pieces of so many tones lose in value year by year, through the gentle, inexorable touch of time; and, more deplorable yet, the ambition and the originality of the master-weavers was deprived of its very life-blood, and in time was utterly atrophied. In the time of Louis XVI, when Marie Antoinette was in the flower of her inconsiderate elegance, the note of the day was for art to be small, but perfect; the worth of a work of art was determined by its size--in inverse ratio. It was a time lively and intellectual and frivolous, and its art was the reflection of its desire for concentrated completeness. In the reign of Louis XVI ripened, not the art of Louis XIV, but the political situation whose seeds he had planted. The idea of revolution which started in the little-considered American colonies, took hold of the thinkers of France, even to the king of little power. But instead of being a theory of remedy for important men to discuss, it acted as a fire-brand thrown among the inflammable, long-oppressed Third Estate--with results deplorable to the art which occupies our attention. The Gobelins was already suffering at the début of the Revolution. Its management had been relegated to men more or less incapable; its art standards had been forced lower and lower. Added to that its operatives were engaged at lessened rates and often had to whistle for their pay at that. The contractors asked for nothing better than to be engaged as masters of ateliers at fixed rates. Then came the full force of the Revolution with such deplorable and tragic results for the Gobelins. In the madness of the time the workers here were not exempt from the terrible call of Robespierre. The almoner of the factory was arrested, and at the end of two months not even a record existed of his execution, which took place among the daily feasts of La Guillotine. A high-warp weaver named Mangelschot met the same fate. Jean Audran, once contractor for high-warp, then placed at the head of the factory, was arrested, but escaped with imprisonment only. During his absence he was replaced as head by Augustin Belle, whose respect for the Republic and for his head made him curry favour with the mob in a manner most deplorable. He caused the destruction by fire of many and many a superb tapestry at the Gobelins, giving as his reason that they contained emblems of royalty, reminders of the hated race of kings. The amateur can almost weep in thinking of this ruthless waste of beauty. It was a celebrated bonfire that was built in the courtyard of the Gobelins when, by order of the Committee on Selection, all things offensive to an over-sensitive republican irritability were heaped for the holocaust. As the Gobelins was instituted by a king, patronised by kings, its works made in the main for palaces and pageants after the taste of kings, it was only too easy to find tapestries meet for a fire that had as object the destruction of articles displaying monarchical power. During the four horrid years when terror reigned, the workers at the Gobelins continued under a constant threat of a cessation of work. Not only was their pay irregular, but it was often given in paper that had sadly depreciated in value. Then the decision was made to sell certain valuable tapestries and pay expenses from this source of revenue. But, alas, in those troublous times, who had heart or purse to acquire works of art. A whole skin and food to sustain it, were the serious objects of life. Under the Directory, funds were scarce in bleeding France, and all sorts of ways were used to raise them. In the past times when Louis XIV had by relentless extravagance and wars depleted the purse, he caused the patiently wrought precious metals to be melted into bullion. Why not now resort to a similar method? So thought a minister of one of the Two Chambers, and suggested the burning of certain tapestries of the royal collection in order that the gold and silver used in their weaving might be converted into metal. Sixty pieces, the most superb specimens of a king's collection, were transported to the court of La Monnaie, and there burned to the last thread the wondrous work of hundreds of talented artists and artisans. The very smoke must have rolled out in pictures. The money gained was considerable, 60,000 livres, showing how richly endowed with metal threads were these sumptuous hangings. The commission sitting by, judicial, dispassionate, presided with cold dignity over the sacrifice, and pronounced it good. A hundred workers only remained at the Gobelins which had once been a happy hive of more than eight times that number, and these were constrained to follow orders most objectionable and restrictive. Models to copy were chosen by a jury of art, and such were its prejudices that but little of interest remained. Ancient religious suites, and royal ones were disapproved. New orders consisted of portraits. But if we thought it a prostitution of the art to weave portraits of Louis XV in royal costume, or Marie Antoinette in the loveliness of her queenly fripperies, what can be said of the low estate of a factory which must give out a portrait of Marat or Lepelletier, even though the great David painted the design to be copied. The hundred men at the Gobelins must have worked but sadly and desultorily over such scant and distasteful commissioning. There were works upon the looms when the Commission began inspecting the works of art to see if they were proper stuff for the newly-made Republic to nurse upon. In September, 1794, they found and condemned twelve large pieces on the looms unfinished, and on which work was immediately suspended. Of three hundred and twenty-one models examined, which were the property of the factory, one hundred and twenty were rejected. In fact, only twenty were designated as truly fit for production, not falling under the epithets "anti-republican, fanatic or insufficient." The latter description was applied to all those exquisite fantasies of art that make the periods Louis XV and Louis XVI a source of transcendent delight to the lover of dainty intellectual design, and include particularly the work of Boucher. The mental and moral workings of the commission on art may be tested by quoting from their own findings on the _Siege of Calais_, a hanging by Berthélemy, depicting an event of the Fourteenth Century. This is what the temper of the times induced the Commission--among whom were artists too--to say: "Subject regarded as contrary to republican ideas; the pardon accorded to the people of Calais was given by a tyrant through the tears and supplications of the queen and child of a despot. Rejected. In consequence the tapestry will be arrested in its execution." The models allowed in this benumbing period were those of hunting scenes, and antique groups such as the _Muses_, or scenes from the life of Achilles. A vicious system of pay was added to the vicious system of art restriction. And so fell the Gobelins, to revive in such small manner as was accorded it in the Nineteenth Century. Its great work was done. It had lifted up an art which through inflation or barrenness Brussels had let train on the ground like a fallen flag, and it had given to France the glory of acquiring the highest period of perfection. To France came the inspiration of gathering the industry under the paternal care of the government, of relieving it from the exigencies of private enterprise which must of necessity fluctuate, of keeping the art in dignified prosperity, and of devoting to its uses the highest talent of both art and industry. The Revolution and the Directory both hesitated to kill an institution that had brought such glory to France, that had placed her above all the world in tapestry producing. But what deliberate intent did not accomplish, came near being a fact through scant rations. Operators at the Gobelins were irregularly paid, and the public purse found onerous the burden of support. But with the coming of Napoleon the personal note was struck again. A man was at the head, a man whose ambition invaded even the field of decoration. The Emperor would not be in the least degree inferior in splendour to the most magnificent of the hereditary kings of France. The Gobelins had been their glory, it should add to his. Louis David was the painter of the court, he whose head was ever turned over his shoulder toward ancient Greece and Rome, who not only preferred that source of inspiration, but who realised the flattery implied to the Emperor by using the designs of the countries he had conquered. It was a graceful reminder of the trophies of war. So David not only painted Josephine as a lady of Pompeii elongated on a Greek lounge, but he set the classic style for the Gobelins factory when Napoleon gave to the looms his imperial patronage. It was David who had found favour with Revolutionary France by his untiring efforts to produce a style differing fundamentally from the style of kings, when kings and their ways were unpopular. Technical exactness, with classic motives, characterises his decorative work for the Gobelins. The Emperor was hot for throne-room fittings that spoke only of himself and of the empire he had built. David made the designs, beautiful, chaste, as his invention ever was, and dotted them with the inevitable bees and eagles. Percier, the artist, helped with the painting, but the throne itself was David's and shows his talent in the floating Victory of the back and the conventionalised wreaths of the seat. The whole set, important enough to mention, embraced eight arm chairs and six smaller ones, besides two dozen classic seats of a kingly pattern, and screens for fire and draughts, all with a red background on which was woven in gold the pattern of wreaths and branches of laurel and oak. The Emperor made the Gobelins his especial care. He committed it to the discretion of no one, but was himself the director, and allowed no loom to set up its patterns unsanctioned by his order. Even his campaigns left this order operative. Is it to his credit as a genius, or his discredit as a tyrant, that the chiefs of the Gobelins had to follow him almost into battle to get permission to weave a new hanging? Portraits were woven--but let us not dwell on that. That portraits were woven at the Gobelins (portraits as such, not the resemblance of one figure out of a mass to some great personage) brings ever a sigh of regret. It is like the evidence of senility in some grand statesman who has outlived his vigour. It is like the portrait of your friend done in butter, or the White House at Washington done in a paste of destroyed banknotes. In other words, there is no excuse for it while paint and canvas exist. Napoleon's own portrait was made in full length twice, and in bust ten times. The Empress was pictured at full length and in bust, and the young King of Rome came in for one portrait. The summit of bad art seemed reached when it was proposed to copy in wool a painting of portrait busts, carved in marble. This work was happily unfinished when the empire gave place to the next form of government. It is unthinkable that Napoleon would not want his reign glorified in manner like to that of hereditary kings with pictured episodes, the conquests of his life, dramatic, superb. David the court painter, supplied his canvas _Napoleon Crossing the Alps_, and others followed. Copying paintings was the order at the Gobelins, remember, and that kind of work was done with infinite skill. Numbers of grand scenes were planned, some set up on the looms, but the great part were not done at all. Napoleon's triumph was full but brief; the years of his reign were few. He interrupted work on large hangings by his impatience to have the throne-room furniture ready for the reception of Europe's kings and ambassadors. And when the time came that another man received in that room, the big series of hangings which were to picture his reign, even as the _Life of the King_ pictured that of Louis XIV, were scarcely begun. CHAPTER XIV BEAUVAIS Another name to conjure with, after Gobelins is Beauvais. In general it means to us squares of beautiful foliage,--foliage graceful, acceptably coloured, and of a pre-Raphaelite neatness. But it is not limited to that class of work, nor yet to the chair-coverings for which the factory of Beauvais is so justly celebrated. This factory has woven even the magnificent series of Raphael, the designs without which the Sistine Chapel was considered incomplete. But this is anticipating, and an inquiry into how these things came about is a pleasure too great to miss. The factory at Beauvais was founded by Colbert, under Louis XIV, in 1664. In that respect it resembles the Gobelins factory, but there existed an enormous difference which had to do with the entire fate of the enterprise. The Gobelins was founded for the king; Beauvais was founded for commerce. The Gobelins was royally conceived as a source of supply for palaces and châteaux of royalty and royalty's friends. Beauvais was intended to supply with tapestry any persons who cared to buy them, to the end that profit (if profit there were) should be to the good of the country. So the factory was founded at Beauvais as being convenient to Paris, although it was not known as a place where the industry had flourished hitherto, notwithstanding the old tapestries still in the cathedral which are accorded a local origin in the first half of the Sixteenth Century. And the king granted it letters patent, and large sums of money to start the enterprise, which had to be given a building, and men to manage it and to work therein, and materials to work with, in fact, the duplicate in less degree of the appropriations for the Gobelins, except that the furniture department was omitted. The idea was practically the same as that in the mind of the paternal Henri IV when he united the scattered factories with royal interest and patronage, but with always the large end in view of benefiting his people financially, as well as in the province of art. With our modern republican views we can criticise the disinterestedness of a monarch who maintains a factory at enormous public expense exclusively for the indulgence of kings. And yet, it seems impossible to make both an artistic and commercial success of a tapestry factory--at least this is the conclusion to which one is forced in a study of the Beauvais factory. Louis Hinart was the man appointed to construct the buildings and to stock them, and the royal appropriation therefor, was 60,000 livres. He was to engage a hundred workers for the first year, more to be added; and special prizes were temptingly offered for workmen coming from other countries, and to the contractor for each tapestry sold for exportation. [Illustration: HENRI IV BEFORE PARIS Beauvais Tapestry, Seventeenth Century. Design by Vincent] [Illustration: HENRI IV AND GABRIELLE D'ESTRÉES Design by Vincent] Thus was trade to be encouraged, and the venture put on its feet commercially. But alas, the factory was not a success. Tapestries were woven, hundreds of them, and they delight us now wherever we can find them, whether low warp or high, whether large pieces with figures or smaller pieces almost entirely verdure of an entrancing kind. But the orders for large hangings, the heavy patronage from outside France, was of the imagination only, and the verdures for home consumption did not meet the expenses of the factory. After twenty years of struggle, Hinart was completely ruined and ceded the direction of the factory to a Fleming of Tournai, Philip Béhagle. As most of the workers were Flemish, this was probably not disagreeable to them. Béhagle, more energetic than Hinart, with a gift for initiative, set the high-warp looms to work with extraordinary activity. As though he would rival the great Gobelins itself, he reproduced the most ambitious of pieces, the Raphael series, _Acts of the Apostles_, and a long list of ponderous groups wherein oversized gods disport themselves in a heavy setting of architecture and voluminous draperies. He also produced some contemporary battle scenes which are now in the royal collection of Sweden. Not content with copying, Béhagle set up a school of design in the factory, realising that the base of all decorative art was design. Le Pape was the artist set over it. From this grew many of the lovely smaller patterns which have made the factory famous. Its garlands have ever been inspired, and its work on borders is of exquisite conception and execution. It is considered a great fact in the history of the factory that the king paid it a visit in 1686; that he paraded and rested his important person under the shade of the living verdure in its garden. But it seems more to the point that Béhagle made for it a success both artistic and commercial, and this continued as long as he had breath. Also was it a feather in his cap that at the time when the Gobelins factory was sighing and dying for lack of funds, the provincial factory of Beauvais not only remained prosperous, but opened its doors to many of the starving operatives from the Gobelins ateliers, thus saving them from the horrid fate of joining the Dragonades, as some of their fellows had done. But the followers of the able Béhagle had not his capability. After his twenty years of prosperity the factory languished under the direction of his widow and sons, and that of the brothers Filleul, and Micou, up to the time when the Regent Philip was fumbling the reigns of government, and when everything but scepticism and Les Precieuses was sinking into feeble disintegration. The factory became a financial failure from which the regent had not power to lift it. Again we see the name of the son of Madame de Montespan, the Duke d'Antin, who was at this time director of buildings for the crown and in this capacity had the power of choosing the directors of both the Gobelins and Beauvais. The place of director at Beauvais was empty; d'Antin must have the credit of filling it wisely with the painter Jean-Baptiste Oudry. He was a man endowed with the sort of energy we are apt to consider modern and American. He already occupied a high place in the Gobelins, and retained it, too, while he lifted Beauvais from the Slough of Despond, and carried it to its most brilliant flowering. [Illustration: BEAUVAIS TAPESTRY. EIGHTEENTH CENTURY Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York] [Illustration: BEAUVAIS TAPESTRY. TIME OF LOUIS XVI Collection of Wm. Baumgarten, Esq., New York] It is only as the history of a factory touches us that we are interested in its changes. The result of Oudry's direction is one that we see so frequently in a small way that it is agreeable to recognise its cause. Oudry was pre-eminently a painter of animals. Add to this the tendency to draw cartoons in suites and the demand for furniture coverings, and at once we have the _raison d'être_ of the design seen over and over again nowadays on old tapestried chairs, the designs picturing the _Fables of La Fontaine_. These were the especial work of Oudry who composed them, who put into them his best work as animal painter, and who set them on the looms of Beauvais many times. They had a success immediate. They became the fashion of the day, and the pride of the factory. If the artist had drawn with inspiration, the weavers copied with a fidelity little short of talent. So it is not surprising that a set of sofa and chairs on which these tapestries are displayed brings now an average of a thousand dollars a piece, even though the furniture frames are not excessively rich. Beauvais set the fashion for this suite, but as success has imitators who hope for success, many factories both in and out of France copied this series. How shall we know the true from the false? By that sixth sense that has its origin in a taste at once instinctive and cultivated. Oudry drew hangings for the small panelled spaces of the walls, to accompany this set of _Fables_. He also painted scenes from Molière's comedies, which at least show him master of the human figure as well as of the lines of animals. We are now, it must be remembered, in the time of Louis XV, the time of beautiful gaiety and light sarcasm, of epigramme, and miniature, and of all that declared itself _multum in parvo_. Therefore it was that even wall-hangings were reduced in size and polished, so to speak, to a perfection most admirable. Paintings were copied, actually copied, on the looms, but however much the fact may be deplored that tapestry had wandered far from its original days of grand simplicity, it were unjust not to recognise the exquisite perfection of the manner in vogue in the middle of the Eighteenth Century, and of the perfection of the craftsman. The pieces of Beauvais that are accessible to us are indeed charming to live with, especially the verdures of Oudry on which he left the trace of his talent, never omitting the characteristic fox or dog, or ducks, or pheasants that give vital interest to a peep into the enchanted woodland. At the same time the factory of Aubusson, and looms in Flanders, were throwing upon the market a quantity of verdures, of which the amateur must beware. Oudry verdures or outdoor scenes are but few in model, and beautifully woven. [Illustration: BEAUVAIS TAPESTRY. TIME OF LOUIS XIV] In the prosperity of Beauvais, ambition carried Oudry into a gay rivalry with the Gobelins. Charles Coypel had gained fame by a set of hangings in which scenes were taken from Don Quixote. Oudry asked himself why he should not rival them at Beauvais. The result was a similar series, but composed by Charles Natoire, the artist who had drawn a set of _Antony and Cleopatra_ for the Gobelins. The same idea extended to the furniture coverings which ran to this design as well as to the _Fables_. Thus originated a set familiar to those of us nowadays who covet and who buy the rare old bits that the niggard hand of the past accords to the seeker after the ancient. Exquisite indeed are the hangings by the great interpreter of the spirit of his time, François Boucher. His designs broke from the limit of the Gobelins, and were woven at Beauvais with the care and skill required for proper interpretation of his land of mythology. Such flushed skies of light, such clean, soft trees waving against them and such human elegance and beauty grouped beneath, have seldom been reproduced in tapestry, and almost make one wonder if, after all, the weavers of the Eighteenth Century were not right in copying a finished painting rather than in interpreting a decorative cartoon. But such thoughts border on heresy and schism; away with them. Casanova, Leprince, and a host of others are tacked onto the list of artists who painted models. We can no longer call them cartoons, so changed is the mode for Beauvais. But Oudry and Boucher are pre-eminent. To the former, who was director as well as artist, is attributed the fame of the factory and the resulting commercial success. The factory had a house for selling its wares under the very nose of the Gobelins; had another in the enemy's country, Leipzig. And kings were the patrons of these, as we know through the royal collections in Italy, and Stockholm, where the King of Sweden was an important collector. It was in 1755 that Beauvais found itself without the support of its leaders. Both Oudry and his partner in business matters, Besnier, had died. And we are well on toward the time when kingly support was a feeble and uncertain quantity. The factory lacked the inspiration and patronage to continue its importance. In a few years more fell the blight of the Revolution. The factory was closed. It re-opened again under new conditions, but its brilliant period was past. Will the conditions recur that can again elevate to its former state of perfection this factory that has given such keen delight, whose ancient works are so prized by the amateur? It has given us thrilling examples of the highly developed taste of tapestry weaving of the Eighteenth Century, it has left us lovable designs in miniature. We repulse the thought that these things are all of the past. The factory still lives. Will not the Twentieth Century see a restoration of its former prestige? If it were only for the reproduction of the sets of furniture of the style known as Louis XVI, the Beauvais loom would have sufficient reason for existing at the present day. Scenes from Don Quixote, however, and the pictured fables of La Fontaine which we see on old chairs, seem to need age to ripen them. These sets, when made new, shown in all the freshness and unsoiled colour, and unworn wool, and unfaded silk do not give pleasure. [Illustration: BEAUVAIS TAPESTRY] [Illustration: CHAIR COVERING Beauvais Tapestry. First Empire] But the familiar garlands and scrolls adapted from the Greek, that were woven for the court of Marie Antoinette, these are ever old and ever new, like all things vital. On a background of solid colour, pale and tawny, is curved the foliated scroll to reach the length of a sofa, and with this is associated garlands or sprays of flowers that any flower-lover would worship. Nothing more graceful nor more tasteful could be conceived, and by such work is the Beauvais factory best known, and on such lines might it well continue. CHAPTER XV AUBUSSON Perhaps because of certain old and elegant carpets lying under-foot in the glow and shadows of old drawing-rooms that we love, the name of Aubusson is one of interesting meaning. And yet history of tapestry weaving at Aubusson lacks the importance that gilds the Gobelins and Beauvais. It just escaped that _sine qua non_, the dower of a king's favour. But let us be chronological, and not anticipate. If antiquity is the thing, Aubusson claims it. There is in the town this interesting tradition that when the invincible Charles Martel beat the enemies of Christianity and hammered out the word peace with his sword-blade, a lot of the subdued Saracens from Spain remained in the neighbourhood. It was at Poitiers in 732 that the final blow was given to show the hordes of North Africa that while a part of Spain might be theirs, they must stop below the Pyrenees. When swords are put by, the empty hand turns to its accustomed crafts of peace. Poitiers is a weary journey from Africa if the land ways are hostile, and all to be traversed afoot. Rather than return, the conquered Saracens stayed, so runs the legend of Aubusson, and quite naturally fell into their home-craft of weaving. They had a pretty gift indeed to bestow, for at that time, as in ages before, the world's best fabrics came from the luxurious East. And so the Saracens, defeated at Poitiers by Charles Martel, wandered to nearby Aubusson, wove their cloths and gave the town the chance to set its earliest looms at a date far back in the past. The centuries went on, however, without much left in the way of history-fabric or woven fabric until we approach the time when tapestry-history begins all over France, like sparse flowers glowing here and there in the early spring wood. When the Great Louis, with Colbert at his sumptuous side, was by way of patronising magnificently those arts which contributed to his own splendour, he set his all-seeing eye upon Aubusson, and thought to make it a royal factory. He was far from establishing it--that was more than accomplished already, not so much by the legendary Saracens as by the busy populace who had as early as 1637 as many as two thousand workers. Going back a little farther we find a record of four tapestries woven there for Rheims. It was, perhaps, this very prosperity, this ability to stand alone that made Louis and Colbert think it worth while to patronise the works at Aubusson. But it must be said that at this time (1664) the factory was deteriorating. Tapestry works are as sensitive as the veriest exotic, and without the proper conditions fail and fade. The wrong matter here was primarily the cartoons, which were of the poorest. No artist controlled them, and the workers strayed far from the copy set long before. Added to that, the wool was of coarse, harsh quality and the dyeing was badly done. All three faults remediable, thought the two chief forces in the kingdom. So Louis XIV announced to the sixteen hundred weavers of Aubusson that he would give their works the conspicuous privilege of taking on the name of the Royal Manufactory at Aubusson. And, moreover, he declared his wish to send them an artist to draw worthily, and a master of the important craft of dyeing fast and lovely colours. Colbert drew up a series of articles and stipulations, long papers of rules and restrictions which were considered a necessary part of fine tapestry weaving. These papers are tiresome to read--the constitution of many a nation or a state is far less verbose. They give the impression that the craft of tapestry weaving is beset with every sort of small deceit, so protection must be the arrangement between master and worker, and between the factory and the great outside world, lying in wait to tear with avaricious claws any fabric, woven or written, that this document leaves unprotected. You get, too, the impression that weavers took themselves a little too seriously. There must have been other arts and crafts in the world than theirs, but if so these men of long documents ignored it. Aubusson, then, took heart at the encouragement of the king and his prime minister, enjoyed their fine new title to flaunt before the world which lacked it, pored over their new Articles of Faith, and awaited the new artist and the new alchemist of colours. But Louis XIV was a busy man, and Paris presented enough activity to consume all his hours but the scant group he allowed himself for sleep. So Aubusson was forgot. Wars and pleasures both ravaged the royal purse, and no money was left for indulgences to a tapestry factory lying leagues distant from Paris and the satisfying Gobelins. Then came the agitation of religious conflict during which Louis XIV was persuaded, coerced, nagged into the condition of mind which made him put pen to the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, the document that is ever playing about the fortunes of tapestry weaving. This was in 1685. Aubusson had struggled along on hope for twenty years, under its epithet Royal, but now it had to lose its best workers to the number of two hundred. The Protestants had ever been among the best workers in Louis' kingdom, and by his prejudice he lost them. Germany received some of the fugitives, notably, Pierre Mercier. Near Aubusson were Felletin and Bellegarde, the three towns forming the little group of factories of La Marche. When the king's act brought disaster to Aubusson, her two neighbours suffered equally. There was also another reason for a sagging of prosperity. Beauvais was rapidly gaining in size and importance under the patronage of the king and the wise rule of its administrators. Beauvais with her high- and low-warp looms, her artists from Paris and her privilege to sell in the open market, lured from Aubusson the patronage that might have kept her strong. Thus things went on to the end of the Seventeenth Century and the first quarter of the Eighteenth. Then in 1731 came deliverers in the persons of the painters, Jean Joseph du Mons and Pierre de Montezert, and an able dyer who aided them. Prosperity began anew. Not the prosperity of the first half of the Seventeenth Century, which was its best period, but a strong, healthy productiveness which has lasted ever since. Two articles of faith it adheres to--that the looms shall be invariably low, and that the threads of the warp shall be of wool and wool only. Large quantities of strong-colour verdures from La Marche and notably from Aubusson are offered to the buyer throughout France. They are as easily adapted to the wood panels of a modern dining-room as is stuff by the yard, the pattern being merely a mass of trees divisible almost anywhere. The colour scheme is often worked out in blues instead of greens; a narrow border is on undisturbed pieces, and the reverse of the tapestry is as full of loose threads as the back of a cashmere rug. For the most part these fragments are the work of the Eighteenth Century. Older ones, with warmer colours introduced bring much higher prices. CHAPTER XVI SAVONNERIE Those who hold by the letter, leave out the velvety product of La Savonnerie from the aristocratic society of hangings woven in the classic stitch of the Gobelins. They have reason. Yet, because the weave is one we often see in galleries, also on furniture both old and new, it is as well not to ignore its productions in lofty silence. Besides, it is rather interesting, this little branch of an exotic industry that tried to run along beside the greater and more artistic. It never has tried to be much higher than a man's feet, has been content for the most part to soften and brighten floors that before its coming were left in the cold bareness of tile or parquet. It crept up to the backs and seats of chairs, and into panelled screens a little later on, but never has it had much vogue on the walls. When we go back to its beginnings we come flat against the Far East, as is usual. The history of the fabric which is woven with a pile like that of heavy wool velvet, and which is called Savonnerie, runs parallel to the long story of tapestry proper, but to make its scant details one short concrete chronicle it is best to put them all together. From the East, then, came the idea of weaving in that style of which only the people of the East were masters. Oriental rugs as such were not attempted in either colour or design, but one of the rug stitches was copied. We have to run back to the time of Henri IV, a pleasing time to turn to with its demonstration of how much a powerful king loved the welfare of his people. When he interested himself in tapestry, one of the three important existing factories was stationed in the Louvre. This was primarily for the hangings properly called tapestry, but in the same place were looms for the production of work "after the fashion of Turkey." Sometimes it was called work of "long wool" (_longue laine_) and sometimes also "_a la façon de Perse, ou du Levant_," as well as "of the fashion of Turkey,"--all names giving credit to the East from whence the stitch came by means of crusades, invasions and other storied movements of the people of a dim past. How long ago this stitch came, is as uncertain as most things in the Middle Ages. We know how persistently the cultivated venturesome East overflowed Eastern Europe, and how religious Europe thrust itself into the East, and on these broad bases we plant our imaginings. Away back in Burgundian times there are traces of the use of this velvet stitch. Tapestries of Germany also woven in the Fifteenth Century, use this stitch to heighten the effect of details. But the formation of an actual industry properly set down in history and dignified by the name of its directors, comes in the very first years of the Seventeenth Century when Henri IV of France was living up to his high ideals. Pierre Dupont is the name to remember in this connexion. He is styled the inventor of the velvet pile in tapestry, but it were better to call him the adaptor. The name of Savonnerie came from the building in which the first looms were set up, an old soap factory, and thus the velvet pile bears the misnomer of the Savonnerie. Pierre Dupont (whose book "La Stromaturgie" might be consulted by the book-lover) was one of the enthusiasts included by Henri IV along with the best high-and low-warp masters of France at that time. Being placed under royal patronage, the Savonnerie style of weaving acquired a dignity which it has ever had trouble in retaining for the simple reason that the legitimate place for its products seems to be the floor. The Gobelins factory finally absorbed the Savonnerie, but that was after it had been established in the Louvre. Pierre Dupont who was director of tapestry works under Henri IV even goes so far as to vaunt the works of French production over those of "La Turquie." The taste of the day was doubtless far better pleased with the French colour and drawing than with the designs of the East. At any rate, this pretty wool velvet found such favour with kings that even Louis XIV encouraged its continuance, gathering it under the roof of the all-embracing Gobelins. A large royal order embraced ninety-two pieces, intended to cover the Grand Galerie of the Louvre. Many of these pieces are preserved to-day and are conserved by the State. If Savonnerie has never produced much that is noteworthy in the line of art, at least it has given us many pretty bits of an endearing softness, bits which cover a chair or panel a screen, to the delight of both eye and touch. The softness of the weave makes it especially appropriate to furniture of the age of luxurious interiors which is represented by the styles of Louis XV and Louis XVI. Portraits in this style of weave were executed at a time when portraits were considered improved by translation into wool, but except as curiosities they are scarcely successful. An example hangs in the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art. (Plate facing page 162.) In the Gobelins factory of to-day are four looms for the manufacture of Savonnerie. [Illustration: SAVONNERIE. PORTRAIT SUPPOSABLY OF LOUIS XV Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York] [Illustration: VULCAN AND VENUS SERIES. MORTLAKE Collection of Philip Hiss, Esq., New York] CHAPTER XVII MORTLAKE 1619-1703 The three great epochs of tapestry weaving, with their three localities which are roughly classed as Arras in the Fifteenth Century, Brussels in the Sixteenth Century, and Paris in the Seventeenth, had, as a matter of course, many tributary looms. It is not supposable that a craft so simple, when it is limited to unambitious productions, should not be followed by hundreds of modest people whose highest wish was to earn a living by providing the market with what was then considered as much a necessity as chairs and tables. To take a little retrospective journey through Europe and linger among these obscurer weavers would be delectable pastime for the leisurely, and for the enthusiast. But we are all more or less in a hurry, and incline toward a courier who will point out the important spots without having to hunt for them. Artois had not only Arras; Flanders had not only Brussels; France had not only the State ateliers of Paris and Beauvais; but all these countries had smaller centres of production. The tapestries from some of these we are able to identify, even to weave a little history about them. These products are recognisable through much study of marks and details and much digging in learned foreign books, where careful records are kept--a congenial business for the antiquary. But even though we may neglect in the main the lesser factories, there is one great development which must have full notice. It is the important English venture known as Mortlake. Sully, standing at the elbow of Henri IV of France, called James I of England the wisest fool in Europe. A part of his wisdom was the encouraging in his own kingdom the royal craft of tapestry-making. To this end he followed the example set by that grand Henri of Navarre, and gave the crown's aid to establish and maintain works for tapestry production. The elegance of the Stuart came to the front, desiring gratification; but craftiness had a hand in the matter, too. After the introduction of Italian luxury into England by Henry VIII, and the continuance of art's revival through the brilliant period of Elizabeth, it is not supposable that no tapestry looms existed throughout the length and breadth of the land at the time that James came down from Scotland. They were there; documents prove it. But they were not of such condition as pleased the fastidious son of Marie Stuart, who needs must import his weavers and his artists. And therein was shown his craftiness, for he had coaxed secretly from Flanders fifty expert weavers before the canny Dutch knew their talented material was thus being filched away. Every weaver was bound to secrecy, lest the Low Countries, knowing the value of her clever workmen, put a ban upon their going before the English king had his full quota for the new venture. Wandering about old London, one can identify now the place where the king's factory had habitat. The buildings stood where now we find Queen's Court Passage, and near by, at Victoria Terrace, was the house set aside for the limners or artists who drew and painted for the works. To copy Henri IV in his success was dominant in the mind of James I. To the able Sir Francis Crane he gave the place of director of the works, and made with him a contract similar to that made with François de la Planche and Marc Comans in Paris by their king. If to James I is owed the initial establishment, to Crane is owed all else at that time. It was in 1619 that the works were founded and Sir Francis took charge. He was a gentleman born, was much seen at Court, had ambitions of his own, too, and was cultivated in many ways of mind and taste. Besides all this, he had a head for business and an enthusiasm rampant, which could meet any discouragement--and needed this faculty later, too. The king then gave him the management of the venture, started him with the royal favour, which was as good as a fortune, with a building for the looms, with imported workers who knew the tricks of the trade, and with a pretty sum of money to boot. Prudence was born with the enterprise; so the men from the Low Countries were advised to become naturalised to make them more likely to stay, and to bring other workers over, Walloons, malcontents, religious fugitives, or whatever, so long as the hands were skilful. Down in Kent, they say those cottages were built for weavers,--those lovable nests of big timbers, curved gables and small leaded panes which we are so keen to restore and live in these days. To swell the number of workers, and to have an eye for the future, there must be apprentices. The king looked about among the city's "hospitals" and saw many goodly boys living at crown expense, with no specified occupation during their adolescence. These he put as apprentices, for a term of seven years, to work under the fifty Flemish leaders. They were happy if they fell under the care of Philip de Maecht, he of Flanders, who had wandered down to Paris and served under De la Planche and Comans, and now had been enticed to the new Mortlake. He has left his visible mark on tapestries of his production--his monogram, P.D.M. (Plate facing page 70.) A designer for the factory, one who lived there, was an inseparable part of it. And thus it came that Francis Clein (or Cleyn) was permanently established. He came from Denmark, but had taken an enlightening journey to Italy, and had a fine equipment for the work, which he carried on until 1658. His name is on several tapestries now existing. Even kings tire of their fulfilled wishes. James wanted royal tapestry works, yet, when they were an established fact, he wearied of the drafts on his purse for their support. It was the old story of unfulfilled obligations, of a royal purse plucked at by too many vital interests to spend freely on art. And Sir Francis Crane bore the brunt of the troubles. Contracts with the king counted but lightly in face of his enthusiasm. He continued the work, paid his men the best he could, and let the king's debt to him stand unsued. In a few years--a very few, as it was then but 1623--he was obliged to petition the king. His private fortune was gone by the board, the workmen were clamouring for wages past due, and the factory trembled. Then it was the Prince of Wales showed the value of his interest in the tapestries that were demonstrating the artistic enterprise of England. The Italian taste was the ultimate note in England as well as elsewhere--the Italy of the Renaissance; and from Italy the prince had ordered paintings and drawings. What was more to the purpose at this hour of leanness, he ordered paid by the crown a bill of seven hundred pounds, which covered their expense. The king, unwillingly,--for needs pressed on all sides--paid also Sir Francis Crane in part for moneys he had expended, but left him struggling against the hard conditions of a ruined private purse and a thin royal one. At this juncture, 1625, James I died, and his son reigned in his stead. The Prince of Wales was now become that beribboned, picturesque, French-spirited monarch, whose figure on Whitehall eternally protests his tragic death. As Charles I, he had the power to foster the elegant industry which now grew and flowered to a degree that brought satisfaction then, and which yields a harvest of delight in our own times. Sir Francis Crane was at last to get the reward of enthusiasm and fidelity. Too much reward, said the envious, who tried in all ways, fair and foul, to drive him from what was now a lucrative and conspicuous post. The money he had advanced the factory came back to him, and more also. Ever a well-known figure at court, he now even aspired to closer relations with royalty, and built a magnificent country home, which was large enough to accommodate a visiting court. He even persuaded the king to visit the Mortlake factory, that the royal presence might enhance the value of art in the occult way known only to the subjects of kings. Debts from the crown were not always paid in clinking coin, but often in grants of land, and by these grants Sir Francis Crane became rich. But the prosperity of Crane was not worth our recording were it not that it evidenced the prosperity of Mortlake. From the death of James I in 1625 for a period of ten years, the factory flowered and fruited. Its productions were of the very finest that have ever been produced in any country. The reasons for this superiority were evident. First of all, Mortlake was the pet of the king; next, Crane was an able and devoted minister of its affairs; its artistic inspiration came from the home of the highest art--Italy--and its weavers were from that locality of sage and able weavers--Flanders. Add to this, tapestries were the fashion. Every man of wealth and importance felt them a necessary chattel to his elegance. And add to this, too, that Mortlake had almost a clean field. It was nearly without rival in fine tapestry-making at that time. Brussels had declined, and the Gobelins was not formed in its inspired combination. [Illustration: VULCAN AND VENUS SERIES. MORTLAKE Collection of Philip Hiss, Esq., New York] [Illustration: VULCAN AND VENUS SERIES. MORTLAKE Collection of Philip Hiss, Esq., New York] Besides this, were not the materials for the industry found best within the confines of the kingdom? What sheep in all the world produced such even, lustrous wool as the muttons huddling or wandering on the undulating _prés salés_ of Kent; and was not wool, par excellence, the ideal material for picture-weaving, better than silk or glittering gold? The hangings made then were superb. Thanks to destiny, we have some left on which to lavish our enthusiasm. The cartoons preferred came from Italy's great dead masters. First was Raphael. The Mortlake would try its hand at nothing less than the great series made to finish and soften the decoration of the Sistine Chapel. And so the _Acts of the Apostles_ were woven, and in such manner as was worthy of them. They can be seen now in the Garde Meuble. Van Dyck, the great Hollander, made court painter to the king, drew borders for them, and was proud to do it, too. Van Dyck's other work here was a portrait of Sir Francis Crane and one of himself. Rubens likewise associated his great decorative genius with the factory and gave to it his suite of six designs for the _Story of Achilles_. Cleyn, the Mortlake art-director, furnished a _History of Hero and Leander_, which found home among the marvellous tapestries of the King of Sweden. There were other classic subjects, and the months as well, but of especial interest to us is the _Story of Vulcan_. Several pieces of this series have been lent to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, by their owners, Mrs. von Zedlitz, and Philip Hiss, Esq. Thus, without going far from home, thousands have been able to see these delightful examples of the highest period of England's tapestry production. The series was woven for Charles I when he was Prince of Wales, from cartoons by Francis Cleyn, and woven by the master, Philip de Maecht. The borders are especially interesting, and carry the emblematic three feathers of the prince, as well as his monogram, in Mrs. von Zedlitz's example, _The Expulsion of Vulcan_. (Coloured plate facing page 170.) It was this same series of _Vulcan_ that was used as a text by Crane's enemy to prove to the king, in 1630, that Crane was profiting unduly and dishonestly from the land grants given him in payment for arrears. The plaintiff speaks of this set as being "the foundation of all good tapestries in England." We are fortunate in having pieces from it in America. Only by actual contact with the tapestry itself can the beauty of the colour and the work be known. We well believe the superior quality of the English wool when it lies before us in smooth expanse of subtle colour. And as for even weaving, it is there unsurpassed. Every inch declares the talent and patience of the craftsman. As for colour, it is on a low scale that makes blues seem like remembrance of the sea, and reds like faint flushings planned in warm contrast, while over all is thrown a veil of delicate mist that may be of years, or may have been done with intent, but is there to give poetic value to the whole of the artist's scheme. [Illustration: THE EXPULSION OF VULCAN FROM OLYMPUS] Sir Francis Crane died in 1636, and Captain Richard Crane succeeded him. And then began the decline of a factory which should have lived to save us deep regret. This second Crane could not carry on the work, and besought the king to relieve him by taking over the factory, which was thenceforth known as King's Works. But civil wars came on in 1642 and other matters were more urgent than the production of works of art. So evil days fell upon the weavers. Then came the black day when Charles was beheaded. The Commonwealth, to do it justice, tried to keep alive the industry. They put at its head a nobleman, Sir Gilbert Pickering, and, to inspire the workers, brought a new model for design. They went to Hampton Court and took from there _The Triumph of Cæsar_, by Mantegna, to serve as new models. Some hope, too, lay in the weavers of the hour, clever Hollanders taken prisoners in the war; and all this while Cleyn directed. But there were too many circumstances in the way, too many hard knocks of fate. People were too poor to buy good tapestries, and loose-woven, cheaper ones were heavily imported--to the amount of $500,000 yearly--from France and the Low Countries. Anti-Catholic feeling displayed hatred toward the able Catholic weavers, who were forced out of the country by proclamation. The sad end of this story is that in 1702 a petition was placed before the king asking permission to discontinue the Mortlake works. It was granted in 1703, and thus ended the English royal venture in England. CHAPTER XVIII IDENTIFICATIONS Identifying tapestries is like playing a game, like the solving of a piquant problem, like pursuing the elusive snark. I know of no keener pleasure than that of standing before a tapestry for the first time and giving its name and history from one's own knowledge, and not from a museum catalogue or a friend's recital. The latter sources of information may be faulty, but your own you can trust, for by delightful association with tapestries and their literature you have become expert. The catalogue is to be read, the friend is to be heard, in all humility, because these supply points that one may not know; but, who shall not say that an intensely human gratification is experienced when the owner of a tapestry with the Brussels mark tells you that it is a Gobelins, or one with the _History of Alexander_ tells you it is the only set of that series ever woven, and you know better. The first thing that strikes the eye and the intelligence is the drawing, the general school to which it belongs. There is matter for placing the piece in its right class. It might be said to place it in its right century or quarter century, but that tapestries were so often repeated in later times, the cartoon having no copyright and therefore open to all countries in all centuries. Next, then, to fix it better, comes a study of the border, for therein lies many a secret of identity, and borders were of the epoch in which the weaving was done, even though the cartoon for the centre came from an earlier time. Last, as a finishing touch, come the marks in the galloon. This is put last because so often they are absent, and so often unknown, the sign of some ancient weaver lost in the mists of years, although a well-known mark so instantly identifies, that study of other details is secondary. But under these three generalising heads comes all the knowledge of the savant, for the truth about tapestries is most elusive. Knowledge is to be gained only by a lover of the objects, a lover willing to spend long hours in association with his love, prowling among collections, comparing, handling, studying designs, discerning colours, searching for details, and indulging withal a nice feeling for textures, a vision that feels them even without touch of the hand. If the study of design has not given a keen scent for the vague quality which we call "feeling," the eye would better be trained still further, for herein lies the secret of success in difficult places, and not only that, but if he have not this sense he is deprived of one of the most subtile thrills that the arts can excite. But this sense is not a matter of untrained intuition. It is the flower of erudition, the flame from a full heart, or whatever dainty thing you choose to call it. It has its origin primarily in keen observation of the various important schools of design that have interested the world for centuries. We unconsciously augment it even in following the side-path of history in this modest volume. Our studies here are but those of a summer morn or a winter eve, yet they are in vain if they have not set up a measuring standard or two within the mind. GOTHIC DRAWING First, and dearest to the lover of designs, comes the Gothic, the style practised by those conscientious romantic children-in-art, the Primitives. Their characteristics in tapestry are much the same as in painting, as in sculpture; for, weavers, painters, book-makers, sculptors, were all expressing the same matter, all following the same fashion. Therefore, to one's help comes any and every work of the primitive artists. Making allowance for the difference in medium, the same religious feeling is seen in the Burgundian set of _The Sacraments_ in the Metropolitan Museum of Arts, New York, as is found in stone carving of the time which decorated churches and tombs. The figures in the Gothic tapestries show a dignified restraint, a solemnity of pose, recalling the deadly seriousness with which children play the game of grown-ups. The artists of that day had to keep to their traditions; to express without over-expression, was their difficult task (as it is ours), but they had behind them the rigidity of the Byzantine and Early Christian, so that every free line, every vigorous pose or energetic action, was forging ahead into a new country, a voyage of adventure for the daring artist. Quite another affair was this from modern restraint which consists in pruning down the voluptuous lines following the too high Renaissance. Faces are serious, but not animated. Dress reveals charming matter concerning stuffs and modes in that far time. But apart from these characteristics is the one great feature of the arrangement of the figures, almost without perspective. And therein lies one immense superiority of the ancient designs of tapestries over the modern as pure decorative fabric. Men and women are placed with their accessories of furniture or architecture all in the foreground, and each man has as many cubits to his stature as his neighbour, not being dwarfed for perspective, but only for modesty, as in the case of the Lady's companion in the _Unicorn_ series--but that series is of a later Gothic time than the early works of Arras. A noticeable feature is that the centre of vision is placed high on the tapestry. The eye must look to the top to find all the strength of the design. The lower part is covered with the sweeping robes or finished figures of the folk who are playing their silent parts for the delight of the eye. This covers well the space with large and simple motive. No recourse is had to such artifice as distant lands seen in perspective, nor angles of rooms, but all is flat, brought frankly into intimate association with the room that is lived in, so that these people of other days seem really to enter into our very presence, to thrust vitally their quaint selves into our company. This feature of simple flatness is in so great contrast to later methods of drawing that one becomes keenly conscious of it, and deeply satisfied with its beauty. The purpose of decoration and of furnishing seems to be most adequately met when the attention is retained within the chamber and not led out of it by trick of background nor lure of perspective, no matter how enticing are the distant landscapes or how noble the far palace of royalty. Thus the Primitives struck a more intimately human note than the artists of later and more sophisticated times. The more archaic the tapestry, the simpler the motive, is the rule. The early weavers of Arras and of France were telling stories as naturally as possible, perhaps because the ways of their times were simple, and brushed aside all filigree with a directness almost brutal; but also, perhaps, because technique was not highly developed, either in him who drew with a pencil or him who copied that drawing in threads of silk and wool and gold. Whatever the cause, we can but rejoice at the result, which, alas, is shown to us by but lamentably few remnants outside of museums. These very archaic simple pieces are, for the most part, work of the latter part of the Fourteenth Century and the first part of the Fifteenth, and as the history of tapestry shows, were almost invariably woven in France or in Flanders. At the end of the time mentioned, designs, while retaining much the same characteristics already described, became more ambitious, more complicated, and introduced many scenes into one piece. This is easily proved by a comparison of the illustration of _The Baillée des Roses_, or _The Sacraments_, with _The Sack of Jerusalem_, all in the Metropolitan Museum. The idea in the earliest Gothic cartoons--if the word may be allowed here, was to make a single picture, a unified group. Into the later cartoons came the fashion of multiplying these groups on one field, so that a tapestry had many points of interest, many scenes where tragedies or comedies were being enacted. Ingenious were the ways of the early artist to accomplish the separation between the various scenes, which were sometimes divided merely by their own attitudes, as folk dispose themselves in groups in a large drawing-room; and sometimes were divided by natural obstructions, like brooks and trees, or by columns. Later yet, all the antique eccentricities passed away, and the laws of perspective and balance were fully developed in an art which has an unspeakable charm. All the things that modern art has decreed as crude or childish has passed away, and the sweet flower of the Gothic perfection unfolded its exquisite beauty. This Gothic perfection was the Golden Age of tapestry. ARCHITECTURAL DETAIL The use of architecture in the old Gothic designs makes a pleasing necessity of fastening our attention upon it. In the very oldest drawing the sole use is to separate one scene from another, in the same hanging. For this purpose slender columns are used. It is intensely interesting to note that these are the same variety of column that meets us on every delightful prowl among old relics of North Europe, relics of the days when man's highest and holiest energy expressed itself at last in the cathedral. Those slender stems of the northern Gothic are verily the stems of plants or of aspiring young trees, strong when grouped, dainty when alone, and forming a refined division for the various scenes in a picture. It must be confessed that in the medium of aged wool they sometimes totter with the effect of imminent fall, but that they do not fall, only inspires the illusion that they belong to the marvellous age of fairy-tale and fancy. The careful observer takes a keen look at these columns as a clue to dates. The shape of the shaft, whether round or hectagonal, the ornament on the capitals, are indications. It is not easy to know how long after a design is adopted its use continues, but it is entirely a simple matter to know that a tapestry bearing a capital designed in 1500 could not have been made prior to that time. The columns, later on, took on a different character. They lifted slender shafts more ornamented. It is as though the restless men of Europe had come up from the South and had brought with them reminiscences of those tender models which shadowed the art of the Saracens, the art which flavoured so much the art of Southern Europe. The columns of many a cloister in Italy bear just such lines of ornament, including the time when the brothers Cosmati were illuminating the pattern with their rich mosaic. Then, later still, the columns burst into the exquisite bloom of the early Renaissance, their character profoundly different, but their use the same, that of dividing scenes from one another on the same woven picture. But as any allusion to the Renaissance seems to thrust us far out onto a radiant plain, let us scamper back into the mysterious wood of the Gothic and pick up a few more of its indicative pebbles, even as did Hans and Gretel of fairyland. A use of Gothic architectural detail gives a religious look to tapestry, quite other than the later introduction of castles. These castle strongholds of the Middle Ages wasted no daintiness of construction, nor favoured light ornament, nor dainty hand. They were, par excellence, places of defence against the frequent enemy; so, in bastion and tower they were piled in curving masses around the scenes of the later Gothic tapestries. Even more, they began to play an important part in the _mise en scène_, and were drawn on tiny scale as habitations of the actors in the play who thrust heads from windows no larger than their throats, or who gathered in gigantic groups on disproportioned tessellated roofs. Occasionally a lovely lady in distress is seen in fine raiment praying high Heaven for deliverance from the top of a feudal pile not half as high as her stately figure. Laws of proportion are quite lost in this naïve way of telling a story, and one wonders whether the wise old artist of other times, with his rigid solemnity was heroically overcoming difficulties of traditional technique, or whether he was smiling at the infantile taste of his wealthy patrons. The past fashion in history was to record only the lives and expressions of those great in power. The artist is ever the servant of such, but may he not have had his own private thoughts, unpurchaseable, unsold, and therefore only for our divining. There must have been a sense of humour then as now, and twinkling eyes with which to see it. GOTHIC FLOWERS Always, in studying a Gothic tapestry, we find flowers. The flowers of nature, they are, a simple nature at that, and never to be thought of in the same day as the gorgeous, expansive, proud flowers of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Century decoration. Those splendid later blossoms flaunt their richness with assured swagger and demand of man his homage, quite forgetting it is the flower's best part to give. Botticelli had not outgrown the Gothic flowers when he sprinkled them on the ambient air and floating robe of his chaste and dreamy _Venus_, nor when he set them about the elastic tripping feet of the _Spring_. He knew their simple power, and so do we. Scarce a Gothic tapestry is complete without them, happily for those bent on identification, for rarely can one discover them without the same thrill that accompanies the discovery of the first violets and snowdrops in the awakening woods. The old weavers set them low in the picture, used them as space-fillers wherever space lay happily before them, and they never exaggerated their size, a virtue of which the full Renaissance cannot boast. They are the simplest sort of flowers, the corolla of petals turning as frankly toward the observer as the sunflower turns toward her god, and little bells hanging as regularly as a chime. These are their characteristics, easily recognisable and expressing the unsophisticated charm of the creations of honest childish hands. Irrelevancy is theirs, too. They spring from stones or pavement as well as from turf or garden, and thus express the more ardently their love for man and for close association with him. When they are seen after this manner, it is sure that the early men have set them, just as Shakespeare, at the same epoch, set violets blue and daisies pied, cowslip, rosemary "for remembrance," and other familiar dainties, in the grim foundation stones of his tragedies. A comparison of the different hangings available to the amateur, or of the pictured examples given in this book, will reveal more than can be well set down with the pen. The use of flowers in the set of _The Baillée des Roses_ is exceptional, in that here the flowers form a harmonious decorative scheme and are at the same time an important part of the story which is pictured. In other earliest examples they playfully peep within the limits of the hanging. Important use is, however, made of them in that altogether entrancing set of _The Lady and the Unicorn_, where they indicate the beauties of a fascinating park in which the delicate lady and her attendant led a wondrous life guarded by two beasts as fabulous as faithful, and the whole region of leaves and petals but serving as a paradise for delectable white rabbits and piquant monkeys. Could any modern indicate by sophistry of brush or brain so intoxicating a fairyland, so gracious a field of dear delights? COSTUMES A minute study of all the details of costume and accessories is one of the measuring sticks with which we count the years of a tapestry's life. This applies more particularly to the work prior to the Renaissance, to the time when all characters were dressed in the mode of the day--another evidence of that ingenuousness that delights us who have passed the period where it is possible. As we have noted before, a costume cannot be used before its time, so, as much as anything can, the study of its details prevents us from going too far back with its date. When one has reached the point of identifying a Gothic tapestry to where the exact decade is questioned, the century having been ascertained, a careful study of costumes outside the region of tapestries is necessary. This leads one into a department all by itself and means delightful hours in libraries poring over illustrated books on costume. It means to learn in what manner our gods and heroes of fact and fancy habited themselves, how Berengaria wore her head-dress and Jehane de Bourgogne her brocades, and how the eternally various sleeve differed in its fashioning for both men and women. Head-dresses were of such size and variety that they form a study in themselves, and dates have been fixed by these alone. The turban in its evolution is an interesting study, and makes one wonder if that, too, did not wander north from the Moorish occupancy of Spain and the wave of inspiration which flowed unceasingly from the Orient in the years when Europe created little without inspiration from outside. A patriarchal bearded man in sacerdotal robes of costly elegance seriously impresses his fellows all through the Gothic tapestries, and his rival is a swaggering, important person, clean-shaven, in full brocaded skirt, fur-bound, whose attitude declares him royal or near it. The first of these is the model nowadays for stage kings, and even a woman's toilet must vaunt itself to get notice beside his gorgeous array. He wears about his waist a jewelled girdle of great splendour, and on his head some impressive matter of either jewels or draping. His face is usually full-bearded, but even when smooth, youth is not expressed upon him. Youths of the same time are more _débonnaire_, are springing about, clean-faced, clad in short, belted pelisse, showing sprightly legs equally ready to step quickly towards a lovely lady or to a field of battle. Soldiers--let a woman hesitate to speak of their dress and arms in any tone but that of self-depreciating humility. Suffice it to say that in the early work they wore the armour of the time, whether the scene depicted were an event of history cotemporaneous, or of the time of Moses. Fashions in dress changed with deliberation then, and it is to the arms carried by the men that we must sometimes look for exactness of date. LETTERING The presence of letters is often noticed in hangings of the Fourteenth, Fifteenth and early Sixteenth Centuries. It was a fashion eminently satisfactory, a great assistance to the observer. It helped tell the story, and, as these old pictures had always a story to tell, it was entirely excusable--at least, so it seems to one who has stood confounded before a modern painting without a catalogue or other indication as to the why of certain agitated figures. The lettering was, in the older Gothic, explicit and unstinted, in double or quadruple lines, in which case it counts as decoration banded across top or bottom. Again, it is as trifling as a word or two affixed to the persons of the play to designate them. This lettering may be French or Latin. EARLY BACKGROUNDS Backgrounds of the early Fifteenth Century deal much in conventionalised, flat patterns, but fifty or sixty years later, when figures began to be more crowded, there was but little space left unoccupied by the participants in the allegory, and this was filled by the artifices of architecture or herbage that formed the divisions into the various scenes. Later the designing artists decided to let into the picture the light of distant fields and skies, and thus was introduced the suggestion of space outside the limit of the canvas. LATER DRAWING After the Gothic drawing, came the avalanche of the Renaissance. That altered all. The Italian taste took precedence, and from that time on the cartoons of tapestries represent modern art, trailing through its various fashions or modes of the hour. The purest Renaissance is direct from the Italian artist, in tapestry as well as in painting, but it is interesting to see the maladroitness of the Flemish hand when left to draw cartoons for himself after the new manner. After the Renaissance came exaggeration and lack of sincerity; then the improvement of the Seventeenth Century, notably in France, and after that the dainty fancies of the Eighteenth Century, and here we are dealing with art so modern that it needs no elucidation. The drawing in tapestries is a subject as fascinating as it is inexhaustible, but, however much one may read on it, nothing equals actual association with as many tapestries as are available, for the eye must be trained by vision and not by intellectual process alone. CHAPTER XIX IDENTIFICATIONS (_Continued_) If the amateur can have the fortune to see in the same hour a tapestry of the early Fifteenth Century, and one a hundred years later, and then one about 1550, from Brussels, drawn by an Italian artist, he has before him an exposition of tapestry weaving in its golden age when it sweeps through its greatest periods and phases to marvellous perfection. The earliest example gives acquaintance with that almost fabled time of the Gothic primitives in art; the second shows the highest development of that art under the influence of civilisation, and the third shows the obsession of the new art of the Renaissance. It is, perhaps, superfluous to say that after the revival of classic art the power of producing spontaneous Gothic was lost forever. From that time on, every drawing has had certain characteristics, certain sophistications that the artist cannot escape except in a deliberate copy. Modern art, we call it. In tapestry it began with a freedom of drawing in figures, and an adoption of classic ornament and architecture. In this connexion it is interesting to note the introduction of Greek or Roman detail in the columns that divide the scenes, to see saints gathered by temples of classic form instead of Gothic. If Renaissance details appear in a hanging called Gothic, it is easy to see that the piece was woven after Europe was infected with modern art, and this is an assistance in placing dates; at least, it checks the tendency to slip back too far in antiquity, a tendency of which we in a new country are entirely guilty. Lest too long a lingering on the subject of design become wearisome, a mention of later designs is made briefly. The simplicity of the early Renaissance, the perfection of the high Renaissance, are both shown in tapestry as well as in paintings, and so, too, is exemplified the inflation that ended in tiresome exuberance. After the fruit was ripe it fell into decay. After Sixteenth Century perfection, Seventeenth Century designs fell of their own overweight, figures were too exaggerated, draperies billowed out as in a perpetual gale, architecture and landscapes were too important, and tapestries became frankly pictures to attract the attention. To this class of design belong all those monstrosities which reflected and distorted the art of Raphael, and which have been intimately associated with Scriptural subjects down to our own times. After Raphael, Rubens. Familiarity with this heroic painter is the key to placing all the magnificent designs similar to the set of _Antony and Cleopatra_ (Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York). Then came the easily recognisable designs of the French ateliers of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. These are so frequently brought before us as to seem almost like products of our own day. The earlier ones seem (as ever) the purer art, the less sensual, appealing to the more impersonal side of man, dealing in battles and in classic subjects. Later, the drawings, becoming more directly personal, in the time of Louis XIV portrayed events in the _Life of the King_; in the next reign, slipping into the pleasures of the _Royal Hunts_, from which the descent was easy into depicting nothing higher than the soft loveliness of the fantastic life of the time as led by those of high estate. From Lebrun to Watteau one can trace the gradual seductive decline, where heroic ideal lowers softly in alluring decadence into a mere tickling of the senses. And at this time the productions of great tapestries stopped. Before leaving the review of drawing or design, it is well to recall that the fleeting fashions of the day usually set the models, not in the manner of treatment which we have been considering broadly, but in the subject of designs. For example, the tendency to religious and morality subjects in the Gothic, the love for Greek gods and heroes in the Renaissance, the glorification of kings and warriors at all times, and the portrayal of royal pleasures in modern times. The months of the year were woven in innumerable designs and formed an endless theme for artists' ingenuity during and after the Renaissance. BORDERS It is but natural that, with the expansion in drawing, the freedom given the pencil, imagination leaped outside the pictured scene and worked fantastically on the border, and it is to the border that we turn for many a mark of identification. The subject being a full one, it has longer consideration in a separate chapter. First there is the simple outlying tape, then the designed border. The early Gothic was but a narrow line of flowers and berries; the later more sophisticated Gothic enlarged and elaborated this same motive without introducing another. The blossoms grew larger, the fruit fuller and the modest cluster of berries was crowded by pears, apples and larger fruit, until a general air of full luxury was given. The design was at first kept neatly within bordering lines of tape, but later, overleaped them with a flaunting leaf or mutinous flower. Ribbons appeared early, then came fragmentary glimpses of dainty columns which gave nice reasons for the erect upstanding of so heavy a decoration. These all were Gothic, but what came after shows the riotous imagination of the Renaissance. It seemed in that fruitful time, space itself were not large enough to hold the designs within the artist's brain. Certainly no corner of a tapestry could be left unfilled, and not that alone, but filled with perfect pictures instead of with a simple repeated scheme of decoration. It was in this rich time of production that the borders of tapestries grew to exceeding width, and were divided into squares, each square containing a scene. These scenes were often of sufficient importance in composition to serve as models for the centre of a tapestry, each one of them, which thought gives a little idea of the fertility of the artists in that untired period. It was the delight of the great Raphael himself to expend his talent on the border of his cartoons. From this artist others took their cue with varying skill, but with fine effect, and with unlimited interest to us. Those who run have time to remark only the great central picture in a hanging; but, to those who live with it, this added line of exquisite panorama is an unceasing delight for the contemplative hours of solitude. From this rich departure from Gothic simplicity the artists grew into the same fulness of design that ended in decadence. The border became almost obnoxious in its inflated importance and from voluptuous elegance changed to coarse overweight; and by these signs we know the early inspired work from its rank and monstrous aftergrowth in the Eighteenth Century. A quick glance at the plates showing the work of tapestry's next highwater mark, the hundred years of the Gobelins' best work, illustrates the difference between that time and others, and shows also the gradual drop into the border which is merely a woven representation of a gilded wood frame to enclose the woven picture as a painted one would be framed. The plate of _Esther and Ahasuerus_ illustrates this sort of border in the unmistakable lines of Louis XV ornament. POINT OF INTEREST Allusion has been made to the placing of the point of interest in a tapestry, but this is a matter to be studied by much exercise of the eye. Perhaps the amateur knows already much about it, an unconscious knowledge, and needs only to be directed to his own store of observations. As much as anything this change of design depended on the uses the varying civilisation made of the hangings. So much interest lies in this that I find myself ever prone to recapitulate the very human facts of the past; the lining of rude stone walls and the forming of interior doors, which was the office of the early tapestries, and the loose full draping of the same; then the gradual increase of luxury in the finish of dwellings themselves, until tapestries were a decoration only; and then the minimising of grandeur under Louis XV when everything fell into miniature and tapestries were demanded only in small pieces that could be applied to screens or chairs--a prostitution of art to the royal demand for prettiness. Keeping these general ideas of the uses of tapestries in mind, it is easy to reason out the course of the point of interest in the design. The Gothic aim was to make warm and comfortable the austere apartment; the Renaissance sought to produce big decorative pictures to hang in place of frescoes; and the French idea--beginning with that same ideal--fell at last into the production of something that should accompany the other arts in making minutely ornate the home of man. Therefore, the Gothic artist placed the point of interest high; the artists of the Renaissance followed the rules of modern painting (even to the point of becoming academic); and the last good period of the Gobelins dropped into miniature and decoration. COLOURS Colours we have not yet considered, in this chapter of review for identification's sake. They follow the same line, have the same history, and this makes the beauty, the logic and the consistency of our work, the work of tracing to their source the products of other men and other times. Colours in the early Gothic--of what do they remind one so strongly as of the marvels of old stained glass, that rich, pure kaleidoscope which has lived so long in the atmosphere of incense ascending from censer and from heart. The same scale, rich and simple, unafraid of unshaded colour, characterise both glass and tapestry. The dyeing of colours in those days was a religion, a religion that believed in holding fast to the forefathers' tenets. Red was known to be a goodly colour, and blue an honest one; yellow was to conjure with, and brown to shade; but beyond twelve or perhaps twenty colours, the dyer never ventured. To these he gave the hours of his life, with these he subjugated the white of Kentish wool, and gave it honest and soft into the hand of the artist-weaver who, we must add, should have been thankful for this brief gamut. To say the least, we of to-day are grateful, for to this we owe the effect of cathedral glass seen in old tapestries like that of _The Sacraments_. The Renaissance having more sophisticated tales to tell, a higher intellectual development to portray, demanded a longer scale of colour, so more were introduced to paint in wool the pictures of the artists. At first we see them pure and true, then muddy, uncertain, until a dull confusion comes, and the hanging is depressing. When, at the last, it came that a tapestry was but a painting in wool, with as many thousand differently united threads as would reproduce the shading of brush-blended paint, the whole thing fell of its own weight, and we of to-day value less the unlimited pains of the elaborate dyer and weaver than we do the simpler work. The reason is plain. Time fades a little even the securest dyes, and that little is just enough to reduce to flat monotones a work in which perhaps sixty thousand tones are set in subtle shading. HAUTE LISSE The worker on tapestries, the modern restorer--to whom be much honour--finds a sign of identification in the handling of old tapestries that is scarcely within the province of the amateur, but is worth mentioning. It is the black tracing on the warp with which high-warp weavers assist their work of copying the artist's cartoon. Where this is present, the work is of the prized haute lisse or high-warp manufacture, instead of the basse lisse or low-warp. But the latter is not to be spoken of disparagingly, for in the admirable time of French production about the time of the formation of the Gobelins, low-warp work was almost as well executed as high-warp, and as much valued. Brussels made her fame by haute-lisse, but in France the low-warp was dubbed "_á la façon de Flandres_"; and as Flanders stood for perfection, the weavers did their best to make the low-warp production approach in excellence the famed work of the ateliers to the north, which had formerly so prospered. To find this black line is to establish the fact that the tapestry was woven on a high-warp loom, if nothing more. But that in itself means, as is explained in the chapter on looms and _modus operandi_, that a superior sort of weaver, an artist-artisan, did the work, and that he had enormous difficulties to overcome in his patient task. A black outline woven in the fabric is one which artists prior to the Seventeenth Century used to give greater strength to figures. It was the habit thus to trace the entire human form, to lift it clearly from its background, after the "poster" manner of to-day. It is as though a dark pencil had outlined each figure. This practice stopped in later years, and is not seen at all in the softer methods of the Gobelins. THE WEAVE The materials of tapestries we know to be invariably wool, silk and metal threads, yet the weaving of these varies with the talent of the craftsman. The manner of the oldest weavers was to produce a fabric not too thick, flexible rather--for was it not meant to hang in folds?--and of an engagingly even surface. It was not too fine, yet had none of the looseness associated with the coarse, hurried work of later and degenerate times. It was more like the even fabric we associate with machine work, yet as unlike that as palpitating flesh is like a graven image. It was the logical production of honest workmen who counted time well spent if spent in taking pains. This ability, to take detail as a religion, has left us the precious relics of the exquisite period immediately before the Italian artists had their way in Brussels. Notice the weave here. See the pattern of the fabrics worn by the personages of high estate. You could almost pluck it from the tapestry, shake out its folds, measure it flat, by the yard, and find its delicate, intelligent pattern neat and unbroken. Wonderful weaver, magic hands, infinite pains, were those to produce such an effect on our sated modern vision, all with a few threads of silk and wool and gold. Then there is the human face--it takes an artist to describe the various faces with their beauty of modelling, their infinite variety of type, their subtlety of expression. You can almost see the flushing of the capillaries under the translucent skin, so fine are the mediums of silk and wool under the magic handling of the talented weavers in brilliant epochs. Not a detail in one of these older canvases of the highest Gothic development has been neglected. The modern places his point of interest, and, knowing the observer's eye is to obediently linger there, he splashes the rest of his drawing into careless subserviency. But these careful older drawings showed in every inch of their execution a conscience that might put the Puritan to shame. Note, even, the ring that is being handed to the lady in the Mazarin tapestry of Mr. Morgan's (if yours is the happy chance to see it). It was not sufficient for the weaver that it be a ring, but it must be a ring set with a jewel, and that jewel must be the one celebrated ever for its value; so in the canvas glows a carefully rounded spot of pigeon-blood. This exquisitely fine weaving of the period which trembled between the Gothic and the Renaissance made possible the execution of the later work--and yet, and yet, who shall say that the later is the superior work? Vaunted as it is, one turns to it because one must, but with entire fidelity of heart for the preceding manner. In the high period of Brussels production, when the Renaissance was well established there, through the cartoons of the Italian artists, it is interesting to note the richness given to surfaces solidly filled in with gold by throwing the thread in groups of four. The light is thus caught and reflected, almost as though from a heap of cut topaz. This characterises the tapestries of the _Mercury_ series in the Blumenthal collection. Naturally, the evenness of the weaving has much to do with the value of the piece--otherwise the pains of the old weavers would have been futile. The surface smooth, free from lumps or ridges, strong with the even strength of well-matched threads, this is the beauty that characterises the best work this side of the Fifteenth Century. It is the especial prerogative of the merchant to touch with his own hands a great number of tapestries. It is by this handling of the fabric that he acquires a skill in determining the make of many a tapestry. There is an indefinable quality about certain wools, and about the manner of their weaving that is only revealed by the touch. Not all hands are wise to detect, but only those of the sympathetic lover of the materials they handle--and I have found many such among the merchant collector. But even he finds identification a task as difficult as it is interesting, and spends hours of thought and research before arriving at a conclusion--and even then will retract on new evidence. COPIES There are certain pitfalls into which one may so easily fall that they must never be out of mind. The worst of these, the pit which has the most engaging and innocent entrance, is that of the copy, the modern tapestry copied from the old a few decades ago. It is easy to find by reference to the huge volumes of French writers on tapestry just when certain sets of cartoons were first woven. Take, for example, the _Acts of the Apostles_ by Raphael; Brussels, 1519, is the authentic date. But after that the Mortlake factory in England wove a set, and others followed. This instance is too historic to be entirely typical, but there are others less known. It was the habit of factories that possessed a valuable set of cartoons to repeat the production of these in their own factory, and also to make some arrangement whereby other factories could also produce the same set of hangings. In the evil days that fell upon Brussels after her apogee, copying her own works took the place of new matters. Also, in the French factories in their prime, the same set was repeated on the same looms and on different ones, _vide_ _The Months_, _The Royal Residences_, _History of Alexander_, etc., and the gorgeous _Life of Marie de Medici_. If these notable examples were copied it is safe to conclude that many others were. The study of marks is left for another chapter, for, by this time, even the enthusiast is wearying. There seems so much to learn in this matter of investigating and identifying, and, after all, everything is uncertain. One looks about at identified pieces in museums and private collections, even among the dealers, and the discouraging thought comes that other people can tell at a glance. But this is very far from being true. Even the savant studies long and investigates much before he gives a positive classification of a piece that is not "pedigreed." Here is a Flemish piece, here is a French, he will declare, and for the life of you you cannot see the ear-marks that tell the ancestry. And so in all humility you ask, "How can you tell with a glance of the eye?" But he does not. No one can do that in every case. He must spend days at it, reflecting, reading, handling, if the piece is evidently one of value. He will show you, perhaps, as an honest dealer-collector showed me, a set of five fine pieces which he could not identify at all. "The weave," said he, "is Mortlake, the design in part German, these are Italian _putti_--yet when all is told, I put down the work as an Eighteenth Century copy of decadent Renaissance. But I am far from sure." If a dealer, surrounded by experienced helpers, can thus be nonplussed, there is little cause for humiliation on the part of the amateur who hesitates. It is not expected that one can know at a glance whether a piece of work was executed in France, or in Flanders at a given epoch. But the more difficult the work of identification, the keener the zest of the hunt. It is then that one calls into requisition all the knowledge of art that the individual has been unconsciously accumulating all the years of his life. The applied arts reflect the art feeling of the age to which they belong, and the diluted influence of the great artists directs them. This is true of drawing and of colour. History has ever its reflection on arts and crafts, but perhaps it has in tapestry its most intentional record. It is a forced and deliberate piece of egoism when a monarch or a conqueror has a huge picture drawn exhibiting his grandeur in battle or his elegance at home. In some hangings modesty limits to the border of an imaginary and decorative scene the monogram of the heroine of history for whose apartments the tapestry was woven. And so history is given a grace, a delicate meaning, a warm interest, which is one of the side-gardens of delight that show from the long path of identification study. This little book has as its aim the gentle purpose of pointing the way to a knowledge that shall be a guide in knowing gold from--not from dross, that is too simple, but gold from gold-plating let us say, for the mad lover of tapestries will not admit that any hand-woven tapestry is on the low level of dross. Any work which human hands have touched and lingered on in execution is deserving of the respect of the modern whose life must of necessity be lived in hasty execution. Every chapter, then, is but a caution or a counsel, and this one but a briefer statement of the same matter. If onto the fringe of the main thought hangs much of history, it is history inseparable from it, for history of nations gives the history of great men, and these regulate the doings of all the lesser ones below them. Identification, pure and simple, is for the rapt lover of art who pursues his game in museums and has his quiet delights that others little dream of. But in general, to the practical yet cultivated American, it is a means to expend wisely the derided dollars that we impress upon other nations to the artistic enrichment of our own country. CHAPTER XX BORDERS If the artists of tapestries had never drawn nor ever woven anything but the borders that frame them, we would have in that department alone sufficient matter for happy investigation and acutely refined pleasure. I even go so far as to think that in certain epochs the border is the whole matter, and the main design is but an enlargement of one of the many motives of which it is composed. But that is in one particularly rich era, and in good time we shall arrive at its joys. First then--for the orderly mind grows stubborn and confused at any beginning that begins in the middle--we must hark back to the earliest tapestries. Tracing the growth of the border is a pleasant pastime, a game of history in which amorini, grotesques and nymphs are the personages, and garlands of flowers their perpetual accessories, but first comes the time when there were no borders, the Middle Ages. There were none, according to modern parlance, but it was usual to edge each hanging with a tape of monotone, a woven galloon of quiet hue, which had two purposes; one, to finish neatly the work, as the housewife hems a napkin; the other, to provide space of simple material for hanging on rude hooks the big pictured surface. This latter consideration was one of no small importance, as we can readily see by sending the thought back to the time when tapestries led a very different life (so human they seem in their association with men that the expression must be allowed) from that of to-day, when they are secured to stretchers, or lined, or even framed behind glass like an easel painting. In those other times of romance and chivalry a great man's tapestries were always en route. Like their owner, they were continually going on long marches, nor were they allowed to rest long in one place. From the familiar castle walls they were taken down to line the next habitat of their owner, and that might be the castle of some other lord, or it might be the tent of an encampment. Again, it might be that an open-air exposition for a pageant, was the temporary use. The tapestries thus bundled about, forever hung and unhung on hooks well or ill-spaced, handled roughly by unknowing varlets or dull soldiers, these tapestries suffered much, even to the point of dilapidation, and thus arose the need for a tape border, and thus it happens also that the relics of that time are found mainly among the religious pieces. These last found safe asylum within convent walls or in the sombre quiet of cathedral shades, and like all who dwell within such precincts were protected from contact with a rude world. One day, sitting solitary at his wools, it occurred to the weaver of the early Fifteenth Century to spill some of his flowers out upon the dark galloon that edged his work. The effect was charming. He experimented further, went into the enchanted wood of such a design as that of _The Lady and the Unicorn_ to pluck more flowers, and of them wove a solid garland, symmetrical, strong, with which to frame the picture. To keep from confounding this with the airy bells and starry corollas of the tender inspiring blossoms of the work, he made them bolder, trained them to their service in solid symmetric mass, and edged the whole, both sides, with the accustomed two-inch line of solid rich maroon or blue. It is easy to see the process of mind. For a long time there had been gropings, the feeling that some sort of border was needed, a division line between the world of reality and the world of fable. Examine the Arras work and see to what tricks the artist had recourse. The architectural resource of columns, for example; where he could do so, the artist decoyed one to the margin. Thus he slipped in a frame, and broke none of the canons of his art, and no more beautiful frame could have been devised, as we see by following up the development and use of the column. Once out from its position in the edge of the picture into its post in the border, it never stops in its beauty of growth until it reaches such perfection as is seen in the twisted and garlanded columns which flank the Rubens series, and those superb shafts in _The Royal Residences_ of Lebrun at the Gobelins under Louis XIV. The other trick of framing in his subject which was open to the Arras weaver whom we call Gothic, was to set verses, long lines of print in French or Latin at top or bottom. But his first real legitimate border was made of the same flowers and leaves that made graceful the finials and capitals of Gothic carving. Small clustered fruit, like grapes or berries, came naturally mixed with these, as Nature herself gives both fruit and flowers upon the earth in one fair month. Simplicity was the thing, and a continued turning to Nature, not as to a cult like a latter-day nature-student, but as a child to its mother, or a hart to the water brook. As even in a border, stayed between two lines of solid-coloured galloon, flowers and fruit do not stand forever upright without help, the weaver gave probability to his abundant mass by tying it here and there with a knot of ribbon and letting the ribbon flaunt itself as ribbons have ever done to the delight of the eye that loves a truant. By this time--crawling over the top of the Fourteen Hundreds--the border had grown wider, had left its meagre allowance of three or four inches, and was fast acquiring a foot in width. This meant more detail, a broader design, coarser flowers, bigger fruit, and these spraying over the galloon, and all but invading the picture. It was all in the way of development. The simplicity of former times was lost, but design was groping for the great change, the change of the Renaissance. The border tells quickly when it dawned, and when its light put out all candles like a glorious sun--not forgetting that some of those candles would better have been left burning. By this time Brussels was the centre of manufacture and the cartoonist had come to influence all weavings. Just as carpenters and masons, who were the planners and builders of our forefathers' homes, have now to submit to the domination of the _École des Beaux Arts_ graduates, so the man at the loom came under the direction of Italian artists. And even the border was not left to the mind of the weaver, but was carefully and consistently planned by the artist to accompany his greater work, if greater it was. Raphael himself set that fashion. He was a born decorator, and in laying out the borders of his tapestries unbridled his wonderful invention and let it produce as many harmonies as could be crowded into miniature. He set the fashion of dividing the border into as many sections as symmetry would allow, dividing them so daintily that the eye scarce notes the division, so purely is it of the intellect. In the border for the _Acts of the Apostles_, this style of treatment is the one he preferred. This set has no copy in America, but an almost unrivalled example of this style of border is in the private collection of George Blumenthal, Esq., the _Herse and Mercury_.[16] Here picture follows picture in charming succession, in that purity and perfection of design with which the early Renaissance delights us. The classic note set by the subject of the hanging is never forgotten, but on this key is played a varied harmony of line and colour. For dainty invention, this sort of border reaches a very high expression of art. If Raphael set the fashion, others at least were not slow in seizing the new idea and from that time on, until a period much later--that of the Gobelins under Louis XV--it was the fashion to introduce great and distracting interest into the border. Even the little galloon became a twist of two ribbons around a repeated flower, or a small reciprocal pattern, so covetous was design of all plain spaces. Lesser artists than Raphael also divided the border into squares and oblongs, and with charming effect. The sides were built up after the same fashion, but instead of the delicate architectural divisions he affected, partitions were made with massed fruit and flowers, vines and trellises. The scenes were surprisingly dramatic, Flemish artists showing a preference for such Biblical reminders as Samson with his head being shorn in Delilah's lap, while Philistines just beyond waited the enervating result of the barber's work; or, any of the loves and conflicts of the Greek myths was used. The colouring--too much cannot be seen of the warm, delicate blendings. There is always the look of a flowerbed at dawn, before Chanticleer's second call has brought the sun to sharpen outlines, before dreams and night-mist have altogether quitted the place. Plenty of warm wood colours are there, of lake blues, of smothered reds. Precious they are to the eye, these scenes, but hard to find now except in bits which some dealer has preserved by framing in a screen or in the carved enclosure of some nut-wood chair. For a time borders continued thus, all marked off without conscious effort, into countless delicious scenes. Then a change begins. After perfection, must come something less until the wave rises again. If in Raphael's time the border claimed a two-foot strip for its imaginings, it was slow in coming narrower again, and need required that it be filled. But here is where the variance lay: Raphael had so much to say that he begged space in which to portray it; his imitators had so much space to fill that their heavy imagination bungled clumsily in the effort. They filled it, then, with a heterogeneous mass of foliage, fruit and flowers, trained occasionally to make a bower for a woman, a stand for a warrior, but all out of scale, never keeping to any standard, and lost absolutely in unintelligent confusion. The Flemings in their decadence did this, and the Italians in the Seventeenth Century did more, they introduced all manner of cartouche. The cartouche plays an important part in the boasting of great families and the sycophancy of those who cater to men of high estate, for it served as a field whereon to blazon the arms of the patron, who doubtless felt as man has from all time, that he must indeed be great whose symbols or initials are permanently affixed to art or architecture. The cartouche came to divide the border into medallions, to apportion space for the various motives; but with a far less subtle art than that of the older men who traced their airy arbours and trailed their dainty vines and set their delicate grotesques, in a manner half playful and wholly charming. But when the cartouche appeared, what is the effect? It is as though a boxful of old brooches had been at hand and these were set, symmetrically balanced, around the frame, and the spaces between filled with miscellaneous ornament on a scale of sumptuous size. Confusing, this, and a far cry from harmony. Yet, such are the seductions of tapestry in colour and texture, and so caressing is the hand of time, that these borders of the Seventeenth Century given us by Italy and Flanders, are full of interest and beauty. The very bombast of them gives joy. Who can stand before the Barberini set, _The Mysteries of the Life and Death of Jesus Christ_, bequeathed to the Cathedral of St. John, the Divine, in New York, by Mrs. Clarke, without being more than pleased to recognise in the border the indefatigable Barberini bee? We are human enough to glance at the pictures of sacred scenes as on a tale that is told, but that potent insect makes us at once acquainted with a family of renown, puts us on a friendly footing with a great cardinal of the house, reminds us of sundry wanderings of our own in Rome; and then, suddenly flashes from its wings a memory of the great conqueror of Europe, who after the Italian campaign, set this bee among his own personal symbols and called it Napoleonic. Yes, these things interest us enormously, personally, for they pique imagination and help memory to fit together neatly the wandering bits of history's jigsaw puzzle. Besides this, they help the work of identifying old tapestries, a pleasure so keen that every sense is enlivened thereby. When decorative design deserts the Greek example, it strays on dangerous ground, unless Nature is the model. The Italians of the Seventeenth Century, tired of forever imitating and copying, lost all their refinement in the effort to originate. Grossness, sensuality took the place of fine purity in border designs. Inflation, so to speak, replaced inspiration. Amorini--the word can hardly be used without suggesting the gay babes who tumble deliciously among Correggio's clouds or who snatch flowers in ways of grace, on every sort of decoration. In these later drawings, these tapestry borders of say 1650, they are monsters of distortion, and resemble not at all the rosy child we know in the flesh. They are overfed, self-indulgent, steeped in the wisdom of a corrupt and licentious experience. I cannot feel that anyone should like them, except as curiosities of a past century. Heavy swags of fruit, searching for larger things, changed to pumpkins, melons, in the gross fashion of enlarged designs for borders. Almost they fell of their own weight. Cornucopias spilled out, each one, the harvest of an acre. And thus paucity of imagination was replaced by increase in the size of each object used in filling up the border's allotted space. After this riot had continued long enough in its inebriety, the corrective came through the influence of Rubens in the North and of Lebrun in France. These two geniuses knew how to gather into their control the art strength of their age, and to train it into intellectual results. Mere bulk, mere space-filling, had to give way under the mind force of these two men, who by their superb invention gave new standards to decorative art in Flanders and in France. Drawings were made in scale again, and designs were built in harmony, constructed not merely to catch the eye, but to gratify the logical mind. The day was for the grandiose in borders. The petite and _mignonne_ of Raphael's grotesques was no longer suited to the people, or, to put it otherwise, the people were not such as seek expression in refinement, for all art is but the visible evidence of a state of mind or soul. The wish to be sumptuous and superb, then, was a force, and so the art expressed it, but in a way that holds our admiration. A stroll in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, shows us better than words the perfection of design at this grandiose era. There one sees _Antony and Cleopatra_ of Rubens--probably. On these hangings the border has all the evidences of genius. If there were no picture at all to enclose, if there were but this decorative frame, a superb inspiration would be flaunted. From substantial urns at right and left, springs the design at the sides which mounts higher and higher, design on design, but always with probability. That is the secret of its beauty, its probability, yet we are cheated all the time and like it. No vase of fruit could ever uphold a cupid's frolic, nor could an emblematic bird support a chalice, yet the artist makes it seem so. Note how he hangs his swags, and swings his amorini, from the horizontal borders. He first sets a good strong architectural moulding of classic egg-and-dart, and leaf, and into this able motive thrusts hooks and rings. From these solid facts he hangs his happy weight of fruit and flower and peachy flesh. Nothing could be more simple, nothing could be more logical. The cartouche at the top, he had no choice but to put it there, to hold the title of the picture, and at the bottom came a tiny landscape to balance. So much for fashion well executed. Colours were reformed, too, at this time, for we are now at the era when tapestry had its last run of best days, that is to say, at the time when France began her wondrous ascendency under Louis XIV. In Italy colours had grown garish. Too much light in that country of the sun, flooded and over-coloured its pictured scenes. Tints were too strong, masses of blue and yellow and red glared all in tones purely bright. They may have suited the twilight of the church, the gloom of a palace closed in narrow streets, but they scourge the modern eye as does a blasting light. The Gothic days gave borders the deep soft tones of serious mood; the Renaissance played on a daintier scale; the Seventeenth Century rushed into too frank a palette. It remained for Rubens and Lebrun to find a scheme both rich and subdued, to bring back the taste errant. Here let me note a peculiarity of colour, noticeable in work of Seventeenth and Eighteenth Century borders. The colour tone varies in different pieces of the same set, and this is not the result of fading, but was done by deliberate intent, one side border being light and another dark, or one entire border being lighter than others of the same set. Lest in speaking of borders, too much reference might be made to the history of tapestry in general, I have left out Simon Vouet and Henri Lerambert as inspired composers of the frame which enclosed their cartoons; but it is well to say briefly that these men at least had not followed false gods, and were not guilty of the flagrant offence to taste that put a smirch on Italian art. These are the men who preceded the establishment of State ateliers under Louis XIV and who made productive the reign of Henri IV. If Rubens kept to a style of large detail, that was a popular one and had many followers in a grandiose age. Lebrun in borders harked back to the classics of Greece and Rome, thus restoring the exquisite quality of delicacy associated with a thousand designs of amphoræ, foliated scrolls and light grotesques. But he expressed himself more individually and daringly in the series called _The Months_ and _The Royal Residences_. This set is so celebrated, so delectable, so grateful to the eye of the tapestry lover, that familiarity with it must be assumed. You recollect it, once you have seen no more than a photograph of one of its squares. But it cannot be pertinent here, for it has no important border, say you. No, rather it is all border. Look what the cunning artist has done. His problem was to picture twelve country houses. To his mind it must have seemed like converting a room into an architect's office, to hang it full of buildings. But genius came to the front, his wonderful feeling for decoration, and lo, he filled his canvas with glorious foreground, full of things man lives with; columns, the size appropriate to the salon they are placed in; urns, peacocks, all the ante-terrace frippery of the grand age, arranged in the foreground. Garlands are fresh hung on the columns as though our decorator had but just posed them, and beyond are clustered trees--with a small opening for a vista. Way off in the light-bathed distance stands the faithfully drawn château, but here, here where the observer stands, is all elegance and grace and welcome shade, and close friendship with luxury. This work of Lebrun's is then the epitome of border. Greater than this hath no man done, to make a tapestry all border which yet so intensified the value of the small central design, that not even the royal patron, jealous of his own conspicuousness, discovered that art had replaced display. After that a great change came. As the picture ever regulates the border, that change was but logical. After the "Sun King" came the regency of the effeminate Philippe, whom the Queen Mother had kept more like a court page than a man. Artists lapped over from the previous reign, and these were encouraged to develop the smaller, daintier, more effeminate designs that had already begun to assert their charm. Borders took on the new method. And as small space was needed for the curves and shells and latticed bands, the border narrower grew. Like Alice, after the potent dose, the border shrank and shrank, until in time it became a gold frame, like the _encadrement_ of any easel picture. And that, too, was logical, for tapestries became at this time like painted pictures, and lost their original significance of undulating hangings. The well-known motives of the Louis XV decoration rippled around the edge of the tapestry, woven in shades of yellow silk and imitated well the carved and gilded wood of other frames, those of chairs and screens and paintings. There are those who deplore the mode, but at least it seems appropriate to the style of picture it encloses. And here let us consider a moment this matter of appropriateness. So far we have thought only of tapestries and their borders as inseparable, and as composed at the same time. But, alas, this is the ideal; the fact is that in the habit which weavers had of repeating their sets when a model proved a favourite among patrons, led them into providing variety by setting up a different border around the drawing. As this reproducing, this copying of old cartoons was sometimes done one or two hundred years after the original was drawn, we find an anachronism most disagreeable to one who has an orderly mind, who hates to see a telephone in a Venus' shell, for instance. The whole thing is thrown out of key. It is as though your old family portrait of the Colonial Governor was framed in "art nouveau." The big men, the almost divine Raphael, and later Rubens, felt so keenly the necessity of harmony between picture and frame, that they were not above drawing their own borders, and it is evident they delighted in the work. But Raphael's cartoons went not only to Brussels, but elsewhere, and somehow the borders got left behind; and thus we see his celebrated suite of _Acts of the Apostles_ with a different entourage in the Madrid set from what it bears in Rome. There is another matter, and this has to do with commerce more than art. An old tapestry is of such value that mere association with it adds to the market price of newer work. So it is that sometimes a whole border is cut off and transferred to an inferior tapestry, and the tapestry thus denuded is surrounded with a border woven nowadays in some atelier of repairs, copied from an old design. Let such desecrators beware. The border of a tapestry must appertain, must be an integral part of the whole design for the sake of artistic harmony. FOOTNOTE: [16] Frontispiece. CHAPTER XXI TAPESTRY MARKS Regardless of what a man's longing for fame may have been in the Middle Ages, he let his works pass into the world without a sign upon them that portrayed their author. This is as true of the lesser arts as of the greater. It was not the fashion in the days of Giotto, nor of Raphael, to sign a painting in vermillion with a flourished underscore. The artist was content to sink individuality in the general good, to work for art's sake, not for personal fame. This was true of the lesser artists who wove or directed the weaving of the tapestries called Gothic, not only through the time of the simple earnest primitives, but through the brilliant high development of that style as shown at the studio of Jean de Rome, of the Brussels ateliers, through the years lying between the close of the Fifteenth Century and the Raphael invasion. Even that important event brought no consequence of that sort. The freemasonry among celebrities in those days showed its perfection by this very lack of signed work. Everybody knew the man by his works, and the works by their excellence. Tapestry marks were non-existent as a system until the Brussels edict of 1528 made them compulsory in that town. Documents and history have been less unkind to those early workers, and to those of us who like to feel the thrill of human brotherhood as it connects the artist and craftsman centuries dead with our own strife for the ideal. Nicolas Bataille in 1379 cannot remain unknown since the publishing of certain documents concerning his Christmas task of the _Apocalypse_, and there are scores of known master weavers reaching up through the ages to the time when marks began. The Brussels mark was the first. It was a simple and appropriate composition, a shield flanked with two letters B. These were capitals or not. One was reversed or not, with little arbitrariness, for the mark was legible and unmistakable in any case, even though the weaver took great liberties--as he sometimes did. The place for this mark was the galloon, and it was usually executed in a lighter colour, but a single tone. [Illustration: BRUSSELS] So much for the town mark, which has a score or more of variations. In addition to this was the mark of the weaver or of the merchant who gave the commission. A pity it was thus to confound the two, to give such confusion between a gifted craftsman and a mere dealer. One was giving the years of his life and the cunning of his hand to the work, while the other did but please a rich or royal patron with his wares. But so it was, and we can but study over the symbols and glean at least that the tapestry was considered a worthy one, reached the high standard of the day, or it would have had no mark at all. For it was thus that the marks were first adopted. They were for the protection of every one against fraud. High perfection made Brussels famous, but fame brought with it such a rush of patronage that only by lessening the quality of productions could orders be filled in such hot haste. Tricks of the trade grew and prospered; there were tricks of dyeing after a tapestry was finished, in case the flesh tints or other light shades were not pleasing. There was a trick of dividing a large square into strips so that several looms might work upon it at once. And there was all manner of slighting in the weave, in the use of the comb which makes close the fabric, in the setting of the warp to make a less than usual number of threads to the inch. In fact, men tricked men as much in those days as in our own. The fame of the city's industry was in danger. It was the province of the guild of tapestry-makers to protect it against its own evils. Thus, in 1528, a few years after the weaving of the Raphael tapestries, the law was made that all tapestries should bear the Brussels mark and that of the weaver or the client. Small tapestries were exempt, but at that time small tapestries were not frequent, or were simple verdures, and, charming as they are, they lacked the same intellectual effort of composition. The Brussels guild stipulated the size at which the tapestry should be marked. It was given at six ells, a Flemish ell being about 27½ inches. Therefore, a tapestry under approximately thirteen feet might escape the order. But that was the day of large tapestries, the day of the Italian cartoonists, and important pieces reached that measure. The guild of the tapissiers in Brussels, once started on restrictions, drew article after article, until it seemed that manacles were put on the masters' hands. To these restrictions the decadence of Brussels is ascribed, but that were like laying a criminal's fault to the laws of the country. Primarily must have been the desire to shirk, the intent to do questionable work. And behind that must have been a basic cause. Possibly it was one of those which we are apt to consider modern, that is, the desire to turn effort into the coin of the realm. All of the enormous quantity of orders received by Brussels in the days of her highest prosperity could not have been accepted had not the master of the ateliers pressed his underlings to highest speed. Speed meant deterioration in quality of work, and so Brussels tried by laws to prevent this lamentable result, and to protect the fair fame of the symbol woven in the bordering galloon. The other sign which accompanied the town mark, of the two letters B, should have had excellent results, the personal mark of the weaver that his work might be known. In spite of this spur to personal pride, the standard lessened in a few years, but not until certain weavers had won a fame that thrills even at this distance. Unfortunately, a great client was considered as important as a weaver, and it was often his arbitrary sign that was woven. And sometimes a dealer, wishing glory through his dealings, ordered his sign in the galloon. And thus comes a long array of signs which are not identifiable always. In general, one or two initials were introduced into these symbols, which were fanciful designs that any idle pencil might draw, but in the lapse of years it is not possible to know which able weaver or what great purveyor to royalty the letter A or B or C may have signified. Happily the light of Wilhelm de Pannemaker could not be hid even by piling centuries upon it. His works were of such a nature that, like those of Van Aelst, who had no mark, they would always be known for their historic association. In illustration, there is his set of the _Conquest of Tunis_ (plate facing page 62), woven under circumstances of interest. Even without a mark, it would still be known that the master weaver of Brussels (whom all acknowledged Pannemaker to be) set up his looms, so many that it must have seemed to the folk of Granada that a new industry had come to live among them. And it is a matter of Spanish history that the great Emperor Charles V carried in his train the court artist, Van Orley, that his exploits be pictured for the gratification of himself and posterity. But Wilhelm de Pannemaker lived and worked in the time of marks, so his tapestries bear his sign in addition to the Brussels mark. Of symbols he had as many as nine or ten, but all of the same general character, taking as their main motive the W and the P of his name. [Illustration: WILHELM DE PANNEMAKER] Incorporated into his sign, as into many others of the period, was a mark resembling a figure 4. Tradition has it that when this four was reversed, the tapestry was not for a private client, but for a dealer. One set of the _Vertumnus and Pomona_ at Madrid (plates facing pages 72, 73, 74, 75) bears De Pannemaker's mark, while others have a conglomerate pencilling. The sign of Jacques Geubels is, like W. de Pannemaker's, made up of his initials combined with fantastic lines which doubtless were full of meaning to their inventor, little as they convey to us. The example of Jacques Geubels' weaving given in the plate is from the Chicago Institute of Art. His time was late Sixteenth Century. The _Acts of the Apostles_ of Raphael, the first set, was woven by Peter van Aelst without a mark, but the set at Madrid bears the marks of several Brussels weavers, some attributed to Nicolas Leyniers. The desirability of distinguishing tapestries by marks in the galloon appealed to other weaving centres, and the method of Brussels found favour outside that town. Presently Bruges adopted a sign similar to that of her neighbour, by adding to the double B and shield a small b traversed by a crown. [Illustration: JACQUES GEUBELS] [Illustration: NICOLAS LEYNIERS] [Illustration: BRUGES] In Oudenarde, that town of wonderful verdures, the weavers, as though by trick of modesty, often avoided such clues to identity as a woven letter might be, and adopted signs. However significant and famous they may have been in the Sixteenth Century, they mean little now. The town mark with which these were combined was distinctly a striped shield with decoration like antennæ. [Illustration: OUDENARDE] Enghien is one of the tapestry towns of which we are gradually becoming aware. Its products have not always been recognised, but of late more interest is taken in this tributary to the great stream of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries. The famous Peter or Pierre van Aelst, selected from all of Flanders' able craftsmen to work for Raphael and the Pope, was born in this little town, wove here and, more yet, was known as Pierre of Enghien. Yet it is the larger town of Brussels which wore his laurels. [Illustration: ENGHIEN] The Enghien town marks are an easy adaptation of the arms of the place, and the weavers' marks are generally monograms. Weavers' marks, after playing about the eccentricities of cipher, changed in the Seventeenth Century to easily read initials, sometimes interlaced, sometimes apart. Later on it became the mode to weave the entire name. An example of these is the two letters C of Charles de Comans on the galloon of _Meleager and Atalanta_ (plate facing page 68); and the name G. V. D. Strecken in the _Antony and Cleopatra_ (plate facing page 79). Other countries than Flanders were wise in their generation, and placed the marks that are so welcome to the eye of the modern who seeks to know all the secrets of the tapestry before him. In the Seventeenth Century, when Paris was gathering her scattered decorative force for later demonstration at the Gobelins, the city had a pretty mark for its own, a simple fleur-de-lis and the initial P, and the initials of the weaver. [Illustration: PARIS] [Illustration: ALEX. DE COMANS] [Illustration: CHARLES DE COMANS] That Jean Lefèvre, who with his father Pierre was imported into Italy to set the mode of able weaving for the Florentines, had a sign unmistakable on the Gobelins tapestries of the _History of the King_. (Plate facing page 114.) It was a simple monogram or union of his initials. In the Eighteenth Century the Gobelins took the fleur-de-lis of Paris, and its own initial letter G. The modern Gobelins' marks combined the G with an implement of the craft, a _broche_ and a straying thread. [Illustration: JEAN LEFÈVRE] [Illustration: GOBELINS, 18TH CENTURY] [Illustration: GOBELINS, MODERN] In Italy, in the middle of the Sixteenth Century, we find the able Flemings, Nicholas Karcher and John Rost, using their personal marks after the manner of their country. Karcher thus signed his marvellously executed grotesques of Bacchiacca which hang in the gallery of tapestries in Florence. (Plates facing pages 48 and 49.) John Rost's fancy led him to pun upon his name by illustrating a fowl roasting on the spit. Karcher had a little different mark in the Ferrara looms, where he went at the call of the d'Este Duke. [Illustration: KARCHER, FLORENCE] [Illustration: JOHN ROST] [Illustration: KARCHER, FERRARA] The Florence factory made a mark of its own, refreshingly simple, avoiding all of the cabalistic intricacies that are so often made meaningless by the passing of the years, and which were affected by the early Brussels weavers. The mark found on Florence tapestries is the famous Florentine lily, and the initial of the town. The mark of Pierre Lefèvre, when weaving here, was a combination of letters. [Illustration: PIERRE LEFÈVRE, FLORENCE] [Illustration: MORTLAKE] When the Mortlake factory was established in England, the date was sufficiently late, 1619, for marking to be considered a necessity. The factory mark was a simple shield quartered by means of a cross thrown thereon. Sir Francis Crane contented himself with a simple F. C., one a-top the other, as his identification. Philip de Maecht, he whose family went from Holland to England as tapissiers, directed at Mortlake the weaving of a part of the celebrated _Vulcan_ and _Venus_ series, and his monogram can be seen on _The Expulsion of Vulcan from Olympus_ (coloured plate facing page 170), owned by Mrs. A. von Zedlitz, as well as in the other rare _Vulcan_ pieces owned by Philip Hiss, Esq. This same Philip de Maecht worked under De Comans in Paris, he having been decoyed thence by the wise organisers of Mortlake. [Illustration: SIR FRANCIS CRANE] [Illustration: PHILIP DE MAECHT] The marks on tapestries are as numerous as the marks on china or silver, and the absence of marks confronts the hunter of signs with baffling blankness, as is the case of many very old wares, whether china, silver or tapestries. Also, late work of poor quality is unmarked. Having thus disposed of the situation, it remains to identify the marks when they exist. The exhaustive works of the French writers must be consulted for this pleasure. There are hundreds of known signs, but there exist also many unidentified signs, yet the presence of a sign of any kind is a keen joy to the owner of a hanging which displays it. [Illustration: TOURNAY] [Illustration: LILLE] CHAPTER XXII HOW IT IS MADE Wanting to see the wheels go 'round is a desire not limited to babes. We, with our minds stocked with the history and romance of tapestry, yet want to know just how it is made in every particular, just how the loom works, how the threads are placed. It seems that there must be some obscure and occult secret hidden within the looms that work such magic, and we want to pluck it out, lay it in the sunlight and dissect its intricacies. Well, then, let us enter a tapestry factory and see what is there. But it is safe to forecast the final deduction--which must ever be that the god of patience is here omnipotent. Talent there must be, but even that is without avail if patience lacks. The factory for tapestries seems, then, little like a factory. The belt and wheel, the throb and haste are not there. The whole place seems like a quiet school, where tasks are done in silence broken by an occasional voice or two. It is a place where every one seems bent on accomplishing a brave amount of fancy-work; a kindergarten, if you like, for grown-ups. Within are many departments of labour. The looms are the thing, of course, so must be considered first, although much preparing is done before their work can be begun. The looms are classic in their method, in their simplicity. They have scarcely changed since the days when Solomon built his Temple and draped it with such gorgeous hangings that even the inspired writers digress to emphasise their richness with long descriptions that could not possibly have assisted the cause of their religion. The stitch made by the modern loom is the same as that made by the looms of the furthermost-back Egyptian, by the Greeks, by the Chinese, of primitive peoples everywhere, by the people of the East in the familiar Khelim rugs, and by the aborigines of the two Americas. There is nothing new, nothing obscure about it, being a simple weaving of warp and woof. Penelope's loom was the same almost as that in use to-day at the Gobelins factory in Paris. Archeologists have discovered pictures of the ancient Egyptian loom, and of Penelope's, and there is but little change from the times of these ladies to our days. The fact is, the work is hand-work, must always be so, and the loom is but a tool for its working, a tool which keeps in place the threads set by hand. That is why tapestry must always be valuable and original and no more possible to copy by machine than is a painting. High warp and low warp are the terms so often used as to seem a shibboleth. _Haute lisse_ and _basse lisse_ are their French equivalents. They describe the two kinds of looms, the former signifying the loom which stands upright, or high; the latter indicating the loom which is extended horizontally or low. On the high loom, the instrument which holds the thread is called the _broche_, and on the low loom it is called the _flute_. The stitch produced by the two is the same. The manner of producing it varies in convenience to the operators, the low-warp being the easier, or at least the more convenient and therefore the quicker method. The cynic is ever ready to say that the tyrant living within a man declares only for those things which represent great sacrifice of time and effort on the part of other men. Perhaps it is true, and that therein lies the preference of the connoisseur in tapestry for the works of the high-warp loom. Even the wisest experts cannot always tell by an examination of a fabric, on which sort of loom it was woven, high warp or low, other evidence being excluded. The high loom has, then, the threads of its warp hung like a weighted veil, from the top of the loom to the floor, with a huge wooden roller to receive the finished fabric at the bottom and one at the top for the yet unneeded threads. Each thread of the warp is caught by a loop, which in turn is fastened to a movable bar, and by means of this the worker is able to advance or withdraw the alternate threads for the casting of the _broche_ or _flute_, which is the shuttle. Behind the veil of the warp sits the weaver--_tissier_ or _tapissier_--with his supply of coloured thread; back of him is the cartoon he is copying. He can only see his work by means of a little mirror the other side of his warp, which reflects it. The only indulgence that convenience accords him is a tracing on the white threads of the warp, a copy of the picture he is weaving. Thus stands the prisoner of art, sentenced to hard labour, but with the heart-swelling joy of creating, to lighten his task. [Illustration: WEAVER AT WORK ON LOW LOOM. HERTER STUDIO] [Illustration: SEWING AND REPAIR DEPARTMENT. BAUMGARTEN ATELIERS] High-warp looms were those that made famous the tapestries of Arras in the Fifteenth Century, of Brussels in the Sixteenth, and of Paris in the Seventeenth, therefore it is not strange that they are worshipped as having a resident, mysterious power. To-day, the age of practicality, they scarcely exist outside the old Gobelins in Paris. But this is not the day of tapestry weaving. A shuttle, thrown by machine, goes all the width of the fabric, back and forth. The _flute_ or _broche_, which is the shuttle of the tapestry weaver, flies only as far as it is desired to thrust it, to finish the figure on which its especial colour is required. Thus, a leaf, a detail of any small sort, may mount higher and higher on the warp, to its completion, before other adjacent parts are attempted. The effect of this is to leave open slits, petty gashes in the fabric, running lengthwise of the warp, and these are all united later with the needle, in the hands of the women who thus finish the pieces. Unused colours wound on the hundreds of flutes are dropped at the demand of the pattern, left in a rich confusion of shades to be resumed by the workmen at will; but the threads are not severed, if the colour is to be used again soon. Low-warp work is the same except for the weaver's position in relation to his work. Instead of the warp like a thin wall before his face, on which he seems to play as on one side of a harp, the warp is extended before him as a table. It is easy to see how much more convenient is this method. The wooden rollers are the same, one for the yet unused length of warp, the other for the finished fabric, and over one of these rollers the worker leans, protected from its hostile hardness by a pillow. The pattern lies below, just beneath the warp, and easily seen through it, not the mere tracing as on the threads of the high-warp loom, but the coloured cartoon, so that shades may be followed as well as lines. It sometimes happens, however, in copying a valuable old tapestry, that a black and white drawing only is placed under the warp while the original is suspended behind the weavers, who look to it for colour suggestion. In low-warp the worker has the privilege of laying his flutes on top the work, the flutes not at the moment in use, and there they lie in convenient mass ready to resume for the figure abandoned for another. If the right hand thrusts the flute, it is the duty of the left to see that the alternate and the limiting threads of the warp are properly lifted. First comes a pressure of the foot on a long, lath-like pedal which is attached to the bar holding in turn the loops which pass around alternate threads. That pressure lifts the threads, and the fingers of the left hand, deft and agile, limit and select those which the flute shall cover with its coloured woof. After the casting of a thread, or of a group of threads, the weaver picks up a comb of steel or of ivory, and packs hard the woof, one line against another, to make the fabric firm and even in the weaving. [Illustration: BAUMGARTEN TAPESTRY. LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY] [Illustration: BAUMGARTEN TAPESTRY. MODERN CARTOON] Such then is the simple process of the looms, far simpler seen than described and yet depending absolutely for its beauty on the talent and patience of gifted workers. It is as simple as the alphabet, yet as complicated as the dictionary. Patient years of apprenticeship must a man spend before he can become a good weaver, and then must he give the best years of his life to becoming perfect in the craft. But if the work is exacting, at least it is agreeable, almost lovable, and in delightful contrast to the labour of those who but tend machines driven by power. And if the art of tapestry weaving is almost a lost one to-day, at least the weavers can find in history much matter for pride. It is no mean ambition to follow the profession of conscientious Nicolas Bataille, of the able Pannemaker, of La Planche and Comans, of Tessier, Cozette, and a hundred others of family and fame. Much preparation is necessary before the loom can be set going. First is the design, the cartoon. There we are in the department of the artist, and must talk in whispers. Raphael belongs there, and Leonardo; and Rubens, Teniers, Lebrun, Boucher and David, train us through the past centuries into our own. But the cartoon of to-day is not so sacred a matter, and we may speak of it frankly--regretfully, too. Cartoons hang all over the walls of the tapestry factory, so much property for the setting of future scenes, and besides, they make a decoration which alone would lift the tapestry factory into the regions of art and class it among ateliers, instead of factories. The cartoons are painted, however, where the artist will, in his own studio or in one provided for the purpose by the director, as in the case of the Baumgarten works. They have the look of special designs. They are not done in the manner of a painting to be hung on a wall. Their brushwork is smooth and broad, dividing lines well distinguished by marked contrasts in colour to make possible their translation into the language of silk and wool. After the cartoon is ready, comes the warp. That is set with the closeness agreed upon. Naturally, the smaller the thread of the warp, the closer is it set, the more threads to the inch, and thus comes fine fabric. Coarser warp means fewer threads to the inch, quicker work for the weaver and less value to the tapestry. From ten to twenty threads to the inch carries the limits of coarseness and fineness. In fine weaving, a weaver will accomplish but a square foot a week. Think of that, you who wonder at the price of tapestries ordered for the new drawing-room. The warp comes to the factory all in big hanks of even thread. Nowadays it is usually of cotton, although they contend at the Gobelins that wool warp is preferable, for it gives the finished fabric a lightness and flexibility that the heavier, stiffer cotton destroys. Setting the warp is a matter of patience and precision, and we will leave the workman with it, to make it the whole length of the tapestry to be woven, and to fasten the loops of thread around each _chaîne_ and to fasten those in turn, alternating, to the bar by means of which they may be shifted to make the in-and-out of the weaving. Then after choosing the colours, the weaving begins. It is like nothing so much as a piece of fancy-work. If it were not for the cumbersome loom, I am sure ladies would emulate the king who wove for amusement, and would make chair-pieces on the summer veranda. But before the silks and wools go to the weaving they are treated to a beauty-bath in the dye-room. Hanks of wool and skeins of silk are but neutral matters, coming to the factory devoid of individuality, mere pale, soft bulk. A room apart, somewhere away from the studio of design and the rooms where the looms stand stolid, is a laboratory of dyes, a place which looks like a farmhouse kitchen on preserving day. You sniff the air as you go in, the air that is swaying long bunches of pendulous colour, and it smells warm and moist and full of the suggestions of magic. Over a big cauldron two men are bending, stirring a witches' broth to charm man's eye. One of the wooden paddles brings up a mass from the heavy liquid. It is silk, glistening rich, of the colour of melted rubies. Upstairs the looms are making it into a damask background onto which are thrown the garlands Boucher drew and Tessier loved to work. Dainties fished up from another cauldron are strung along a line to dry, soft wool and shining silk, all in shades of grapes, of asters, of heliotropes, telling their manifest destiny. And beyond, are great bunches of colour, red which mounts a quivering scale to salmon pink, blue which sails into tempered gray, greens dancing to the note of the forest. It is a nature's workshop, a laboratory where the rainbow serves, apprenticed. Jars, stone jars, little kegs, all ugly enough, are standing against the wall. But uncover one, touch the thick dark stuff within, and feast your eye on the colour left on a curious finger-tip. You are close to the cochineal, to indigo, and all the wonderful alchemy of colour. Aniline? Not a bit of the treacherous stuff. It takes the eye, but it is a fickle friend. They say a mordant has been found to stay the flight of its lovely colours. Perhaps; it may be. But what weaver of tapestry would be willing to confide his labour to the care of a dye that has not known the test of ages? Aniline dye, says the director of a tapestry factory, may last twenty years--but twenty years is nothing in the life of a tapestry. Over in Paris, at the Gobelins, a master rules as chemist of the dyes, with the dignity of a special laboratory for making them. In America, with no government assuming the expense, the dyes are bought in such form that only expert dyers can use them in the few factories which exist. But no new hazards are taken. The matter is too serious. Economy in dyes brings too great disaster to contemplate. It is only too true that a man, several men, may labour a year to produce a perfect work, and that all the labour may be ruined by an ephemeral dye, by the escape of tones skilfully laid. Let commerce cheat in some other way, if it must, but not in this. Let the dye be honest, as enduring as the colours imprisoned in gems. [Illustration: BAUMGARTEN TAPESTRY. MODERN CARTOON] It is a modern economy. The ancients knew not of it, and were willing to spend any amount on colours. More than that a port, or a nation, was willing to rest its fame on a single colour. Purple of Tyre, red of Turkey, yellow of China, are terms familiar through the ages, and think not these colours were to be had for the asking. They brought prices which we do not pay now even in this age of money. The brothers Gobelins--their fame originally rested on their ambition to be "dyers of scarlet," that being an ultimate test of skill. It is a serious matter, that of dyeing wools and silks for tapestries, and one which the directors conduct within the walls of the tapestry factory. The Gobelins uses for its reds, cochineal or the roots of the madder; for blue, indigo and Prussian blue; for yellow, the vegetable colour extracted from gaude. In America there is a specialist in dyes: Miss Charlotte Pendleton, who gives her entire attention to rediscovering the dyes of the ancients, the dyes that made a city's fame. It is owing to her conscientious work that the tapestry repairers of museums can find appropriate threads. It is interesting to trace the differing gamut of colour through the ages. Old dyes produced, old weavers needed, but twenty tones for the old work. Tapestries of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries were as simple in scale as stained glass, and as honest. Flesh tints were neutral by contrast to the splendid reds, honest yellows and rich greens. Colours meant something, then, too; had a sentimental language all their own. When white predominated, purity was implied; black was mortification of the flesh; livid yellow was tribulation; red, charity; green, meditation. An examination of the colours in the series which depicts the life of Louis XIV, reveals a use of but seventy-nine colours. So up to that time, great honesty of dye, and fine decorative effect were preserved. The shades were produced by two little tricks open as the day, hatching being one, the other, winding two shades on the same broche or shuttle. Hatching, as we know, is merely a penman's trick, of shading with lines of light and dark. It was when they began to paint the lily, in the days of pretty corruption, that the whole matter of dyeing changed. In the Eighteenth Century when the Regent Philip, and then La Pompadour, set the mode, things greatly altered. When big decorative effects were no more, the stimulating effect of deep strong colour was considered vulgar, and, only the suave sweetness of Boucher, Nattier, Fragonard, were admired. Every one played a pretty part, all life was a theatre of gay comedy, or a flattered miniature. So, as we have seen, new times and new modes caused the Gobelins to copy paintings instead of to interpret cartoons--and there lay the destruction of their art. Instead of four-score tones, the dyers hung on their lines tens and tens of thousands. And the weavers wove them all into their fabric-painting, with the result that when the light lay on them long, the delicate shades faded and with them was lost the meaning of the design. And that is why the Gobelins of the older time are worth more as decoration than those of the later. We are doing a little better nowadays. There is a limit to the tones, and in all new work a decided tendency to abandon the copying of brush-shading in favour of a more restricted gamut of colour. By this means the future worker may regain the lost charm of the simple old pieces of work. Another room in the factory of tapestry interests those who like to see the creation of things. It is one of the prettiest rooms of all, and is more than ever like a kindergarten for grown-ups. Or, if you like, it is a chamber in a feudal castle where the women gather when the men are gone to war. Here the workers are all girls and women, each bending over a large embroidery frame supported at a convenient level from the floor. On one frame is a long flowered border with cartouches in the strong rich colours of Louis XIV. On another a sofa-seat copied from Boucher. They are both new, but like all work fresh from the loom are full of the open slits left in the process of weaving, a necessity of the changing colours and the requirements of the drawing. All these little slits, varying from half an inch to several inches in length, must be sewed with strong, careful stitches before the tapestry can be considered complete. On other frames are stretched old tapestries for repairs. At the Gobelins as many as forty women are thus employed. The malapropos deduction springs here that the demand for repaired old work is greater than that for new in the famous factory, for only six or eight weavers are there occupied. Repairing is almost an art in itself. The emperor established a small school at Berlin for training girls in this trade. The studio of the late Mr. Ffoulke in Florence kept twenty or thirty girls occupied. The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York has a repair studio under a graduate of the Berlin school. The factories of Baumgarten and of Herter, in New York, also conduct repairs; and the museum at Boston as well. We cannot make old tapestries, but we can restore and preserve them by skilled labour in special ateliers. Restoration by the needle is the only perfect restoration, and this is as yet but little done here, although the method is so well known in Europe. We deplore the quicker way, to use the loom for weaving large sections of border or large bits which have gone into hopeless shreds, or have disappeared altogether by reason of the bitter years when tapestries had fallen into neglect. But the quicker way is the poorer, with these great claimants for time. The woven figures are relentless in this, that they claim of the living man a lion's share of his precious days. His reward is that they outlast him. Food for cynics lies there. The careful worker looks close and sees the warp exposed like fiddle strings here and there. She matches the colour of silk and wool to the elusive shades and covers stitch by stitch the bare threads, in perfect imitation of the loom's way. Sometimes the warp is gone. Then the work tests the best skill. The threads, the _chaîne_, must be picked up, one by one, and united invisibly to the new, and then the pattern woven over with the needle. It happens that large holes remain to be filled entirely, the pattern matched, the design caught or imagined from some other part of the fabric. That takes skill indeed. But it is done, and so well, that the repairer is called not that, but a restorer. The two factories in New York, the Baumgarten and Herter ateliers, have certain employés always busy with repairs and restorations. Given even a fragment, the rest is supplied to make a perfect whole, in these studios where the manner of the old workers is so closely studied. For big repairs a drawing is made, a cartoon on the same principle as that of large cartoons, in colours, these following the old. Then it remains for the weaver to set his loom with the corresponding number of threads, that the new fabric may match the old in fineness. Then, too, comes the test of matching colours, a test that almost never discovers a worker equal to its exactions. That is as often as not the fault of the dyer who has supplied colours too fresh. It is the repairs done by the needle that give the best effect, although such restorations are costly and slow. Old repairs on old tapestries have been made, in some instances, very long ago. It often happens, in old sets, that a great piece of another tapestry has been roughly set in, like the knee-patches of a farm boy. The object has been merely to fill the hole, not to match colour scheme or figure. And these patches are by the judicious restorer taken out and their place carefully filled with the needle. Moths, say some, do not devour old tapestries. The reason given is that the ancient wool is so desiccated as to be no longer nutritious. A pretty argument, but not to be trusted, for I have seen moths comfortably browsing on a Burgundian hanging, keeping house and raising families on such precious stuff. Commerce demands that tricks shall be played in the repair room, but not such great ones that serious corruption will result. The coarse verdures of the Eighteenth Century that were thrown lightly off the looms with transient interest are sought now for coverings to antique chairs. To give the unbroken greens more charm, an occasional bird is snipped from a worn branch where he has long and mutely reposed, and is posed anew on the centre of a back or seat. It is the part of the repairer to see that he looks at home in his new surroundings. If metal threads have not been spoken of in this chapter on _modus operandi_, it is because metal is so little used since the time of Louis XV as to warrant omitting it. And the little that appears seems very different from the "gold of Cyprus" that made gorgeous and valuable the tapestries of Arras, of Brussels and of old Paris. CHAPTER XXIII THE BAYEUX TAPESTRY A. D. 1066 So long as one word continues to have more than one meaning, civilised man will continue to gain false impressions. The word tapestry suffers as much as any other--witness the attempt made for hundreds of years among all nations to set apart a word that shall be used only to designate the hand-woven pictured hangings and coverings discussed in this book; arras, gobelins, _toile peinte_, etc. In English, tapestry may mean almost any decorative stuff, and so comes it that we speak of the wonderful hanging which gives name to this chapter as the tapestry of Bayeux (plates facing pages 242, 243 and 244), when it is in reality an embroidery. But so much is it confused with true tapestry, and so poignantly does it interest the Anglo-Saxon that we will introduce it here, even while acknowledging its extraneous character. To begin with, then, we say frankly that it is not a tapestry; that it has no place in this book. And then we will trail its length through a short review of its history and its interest as a human document of the first order. In itself it is a strip of holland--brown, heavy linen cloth, measuring in length about two hundred and thirty-one feet, and in width, nineteen and two-thirds inches--remarkable dimensions which are accounted for in the neatest way. The hanging was used in the cathedral of the little French city of Bayeux, draped entirely around the nave of the Norman Cathedral, which space it exactly covered. This indicates to archeologists the original purpose of the hanging. On the brown linen is embroidered in coloured wools a panoramic succession of incidents, with border top and bottom. The colours are but eight, two shades each of green and blue, with yellow, dove-colour, red and brown. This, in brief, is the great Bayeux tapestry. But its threads breathe history; its stitches sing romance; and we who love to touch humorously the spirits of brothers who lived so long ago, find here the matter that humanly unites the Eleventh Century with the Twentieth. The subject is the conquest of England by William the Conqueror in 1066. That is fixed beyond a doubt, so that the precious cloth cannot trail its ends any further back into antiquity than that event. However, even the most insatiable antiquarian of European specialties is smilingly content with such a date. Legend has it that Queen Matilda, the wife of the conqueror, executed the work as an evidence of the devotion and adulation that were his due and her pleasure: There are lovely pictures in the mind of Matilda in the safety of the chambers of the old castle at Caen, directing each day a corps of lovely ladies in the task of their historic embroidery, each one sewing into the fabric her own secret thoughts of lover or husband absent on the great Conqueror's business. In absence of direct testimony to the contrary, why not let us believe this which comes as near truth as any legend may, and fits the case most pleasantly? [Illustration: BAYEUX TAPESTRY (DETAIL), 1066] [Illustration: BAYEUX TAPESTRY (DETAIL), 1066] The history it portrays in all its seventy-odd yards is easy enough to verify. That is like working out a puzzle with the key in hand. But the history of this keenly interesting embroidery is not so easy. The records are niggardly. Inventories record it in 1369 and 1476. In an inventory of the Bishop of Bayeux it is mentioned in 1563. About this time it was in ecclesiastical hands and used for decorating the nave of the Bayeux Cathedral. Then the world forgot it. How the world rediscovered that which was never lost is interesting matter. Here is the story: In 1724 an antiquarian found a drawing of about ten yards long, taken from the tapestry. Here, said he and his fellow sages, is the drawing of some wonderful, ancient work of art, most probably a frieze or other decoration carved in wood or stone. Naturally, the desire was to find such a monument. But no one could remember such a carving in any church or castle. Father Montfaucon, of Saint Maur, with interest intelligent, wrote to the prior of St. Vigor's at Bayeux, and received the most satisfactory reply, that the drawing represented not a carving but a hanging in possession of his church, and associated with many yards more of the same cloth. So all this time the wonderful relic had lain safe in Bayeux, and never was lost, but only forgotten by outsiders. The rediscovery, so-called, aroused much comment, and England declared the cloth the noblest monument of her history. It was in use at that time, and after, once a year. It was hung around the cathedral nave on St. John's Day, and left for eight days that all the people might see it. The fact that it was not religious in subject, that it could not possibly be interpreted otherwise than as a secular history, makes remarkable its place in the cathedral. This is explained by the suggestion that while Bishop Odo established that precedent, all others but followed without thought. Since 1724 the world outside of Bayeux has never forgotten this panorama of a past age, and its history is known from that time on. The Revolution of France had its effect even on this treasure; or would have had if the clergy had not been sufficiently capable to defend it. It was hidden in the depositories of the cathedral until the storm was over. It seems there was no treasure in Europe unknown to Napoleon. He commanded in 1803 that the Bayeux tapestry, of which he had heard so much, be brought to the National Museum for his inspection. The playwrights of Paris seized on the pictured cloth as material for their imagination, and, refusing to take seriously the crude figures, wrote humorously of Matilda eternally at work over her ridiculous task, surrounded with simple ladies equally blind to art and nature. It is only too easy to let humour play about the ill-drawn figures. They must be taken grandly serious, or ridicule will thrust tongue in cheek. It is to these French plays of 1804 that we owe the firmness of the tradition that Queen Matilda in 1066 worked the embroidery. [Illustration: BAYEUX TAPESTRY (DETAIL), 1066] Napoleon returned the cloth to Bayeux, not to the church, but to the Hotel de Ville, in which manner it became the property of the civil authorities, instead of the ecclesiastic. It was rolled on cylinders, that by an easy mechanism it might be seen by visitors. But the fabric suffered much by the handling of a curious public. Even the most enlightened and considerate hands can break threads which time has played with for eight centuries. It was decided, therefore, to give the ancient _toile fatiguée_ a quiet, permanent home. For this purpose a museum was built, and about 1835 the great Bayeux tapestry was carefully installed behind glass, its full length extended on the walls for all to see who journey thither and who ring the guardian's bell at the courtyard's handsome portico. Once since then, once only, has the venerable fabric left its cabinet. This was at the time of the Prussians when, in 1871, France trembled for even her most intimate and special treasures. The tapestry was taken from its case, rolled with care and placed in a zinc cylinder, hermetically sealed. Then it was placed far from harm; but exactly where, is a secret that the guardians of the tapestry do well to conserve. There might be another trouble, and asylum needed for the treasure in the future. The pictures of the great embroidery are such as a child might draw, for crudeness; but the archeologist knows how to read into them a thousand vital points. History helps out, too, with the story of Harold, moustached like the proper Englishman of to-day, taking a commission from William, riding gaily out on a gentleman's errand, not a warrior's. This is shown by the falcon on his wrist, that wonderful bird of the Middle Ages that marked the gentleman by his associations, marked the high-born man on an errand of peace or pleasure. In these travelling days, no sooner do we land in Normandy than Mount St. Michael looms up as a happy pilgrimage. So to the same religious refuge Harold went on the pictured cloth, crossed the adjacent river in peril, and--how pleasingly does the past leap up and tap the present--he floundered in the quicksands that surround the Mount, and about which the driver of your carriage across the _passerelle_ will tell you recent tales of similar flounderings. And when in Brittany, who does not go to tumbley-down Dinan to see its ancient gates and walls, its palaces of Queen Anne, its lurching crowd of houses? It is thither that Harold, made of threads of ancient wool, sped and gave battle after the manner of his time. Another link to make us love this relic of the olden time: It is the star, the star so great that the space of the picture is all too small to place it; so the excited hands of the embroiderers set it outside the limit, in the border. It flames over false Harold's head and he remembers sombrely that it is an omen of a change of rule. He is king now, has usurped a throne, has had himself crowned. But for how long is he monarch, with this flaming menace burning into his courage? The year finishing saw the prophecy fulfilled by the coming of the conqueror. It was this section of the tapestry that, when it came to Paris, had power to startle Napoleon, ever superstitious, ever ready to read signs. The star over Harold's head reminded him of the possible brevity of his own eminence. The star that blazed in 1066--we have found it. It was not imaginary. Behold how prettily the bits of history fit together, even though we go far afield to find those bits. This one comes from China. Records were better kept there in those times than in Christian Europe; and the Chinese astronomers write of a star appearing April 2, 1066, which was seen first in the early morning sky, then after a time disappeared to reappear in the evening sky, with a flaming tail, most agreeably sensational. It was Halley's comet, the same that we watched in 1910 with no superstitious fear at all for princes nor for powers. But it is interesting to know that our modern comet was recorded in China in the Eleventh Century, and has its portrait on the Bayeux tapestry, and that it frightened the great Harold into a fit of guilty conscience. The archeologist gives reason for the faith that is in him concerning the Bayeux tapestry by reading the language of its details, such as the style of arms used by its preposterous soldiers; by gestures; by groupings of its figures; and we are only too glad to believe his wondrous deductions. There are in all fifteen hundred and twelve figures in this celebrated cloth, if one includes birds, beasts, boats, _et cetera_, with the men; and amidst all this elongated crowd is but one woman. Queen Matilda, left at home for months, immured with her ladies, probably had quite enough of women to refrain easily from portraying them. Needless to say, this one embroidered lady interests poignantly the archeologist. Most of the animals are in the border--active little beasts who make a running accompaniment to the tale they adorn. This excepts the very wonderful horses ridden by knights of action. Scenes of the pictured history of William's conquest are divided one from the other by trees. Possibly the archeologist sees in these evidences of extinct varieties, for not in all this round, green world do trees grow like unto those of the Bayeux tapestry. They are dream trees from the gardens of the Hesperides, and set in useful decoration to divide event from event and to give sensations to the student of the tree in ornament. Such is the Bayeux tapestry, which, as was conscientiously forewarned, is not a tapestry at all, but the most interesting embroidery of Europe. CHAPTER XXIV TO-DAY The making of inspired tapestry does not belong to to-day. The _amour propre_ suffers a distinct pain in this acknowledgment. It were far more agreeable to foster the feeling that this age is in advance of any other, that we are at the front of the world's progress. So we are in many matters, but those matters are all bent toward one thing--making haste. Economy of time occupies the attention of scientist, inventor, labourer. Yet a lavish expenditure of time is the one thing the perfect tapestry inexorably demands, and that is the fundamental reason why it cannot now enter a brilliant period of production like those of the past. It is not that one atelier cannot find enough weavers to devote their lives to sober, leisurely production; it is that the stimulating effect is gone, of a craft eagerly pursued in various centres, where guilds may be formed, where healthy rivalry spurs to excellence, where the world of the fine arts is also vitally concerned. The great hangings of the past were the natural expression of decoration in those days, the natural demand of pomp, of splendour and of comfort. As in all things great and small, the act is but the visible expression of an inward impulse, and we of to-day have not the spirit that expresses itself in the reverent building of cathedrals, or in the inspired composition of tapestries. This is to be entirely distinguished from appreciation. That gift we have, and it is momentarily increasing. To be entirely commercial, which view is of course not the right one, one need only watch the reports of sales at home and abroad to see what this latter-day appreciation means in pelf. In England a tapestry was recently unearthed and identified as one of the series of seven woven for Cardinal Woolsey. It is not of extraordinary size, but was woven in the interesting years hovering above and below the century mark of 1500. The time was when public favour spoke for the upholding of morality with a conspicuousness which could be called Puritanism, were the anachronism possible. Pointing a moral was the fundamental excuse for pictorial art. This tapestry represents one of _The Seven Deadly Sins_. Hampton Court displays the three other known pieces of the series, and he who harbours this most recent discovery has paid $33,000 for the privilege. But that is a tiny sum compared to the price that rumour accredits Mr. Morgan with paying for _The Adoration of the Eternal Father_ (called also _The Kingdom of Heaven_). And this is topped by $750,000 paid for a Boucher set of five pieces. One might continue to enumerate the sales where enormous sums are laid down in appreciation of the men whose excellence of work we cannot achieve, but these sums paid only show with pathetic discouragement the completeness with which the spirit of commercialism has replaced the spirit of art, at least in the expression of art that occupies our attention. [Illustration: MODERN AMERICAN TAPESTRY, LOUIS XV INSPIRATION] [Illustration: MODERN AMERICAN TAPESTRY FROM FRENCH INSPIRATION] If, then, this is not an age of production, but of appreciation, it, too, has its natural expression. First it is the acquiring at any sacrifice of the ancient hangings wherever they are found; and after that it is their restoration and preservation. This is the reason for recent high prices and the reason, too, for the establishment of ateliers of repair, which are found in all large centres in Europe as well as wherever any important museum exists in America. It would not be possible nor profitable to dwell on the tapestry repair shops of Europe. They have always been; the industry is one that has existed since the Burgundian dukes tore holes in their magnificent tapestries by dragging them over the face of Europe, and since Henry the Eighth, in eager imitation of the continentals, established in the royal household a supervisor of tapestry repairs. Paris is full of repairers, and in the little streets on the other side of the Seine old women sit in doorways on a sunny day, defeating the efforts of time to destroy the loved _toiles peintes_. But this haphazard repair, done on the knee, as a garment might be mended, is not comparable to the careful, exact work of the restorer at her frame. One ranks as woman's natural task of nine stitches, while the other is the work of intelligent patience and skilled endeavour. Wherever looms are set up, a department of repair is the logical accompaniment. As every tapestry taken from the loom appears punctured with tiny slits, places left open in the weaving, and as all of these need careful sewing before the tapestry is finished, a corps of needlewomen is a part of a loom's equipment. This is true in all but the ateliers of the Merton Abbey factory, of which we shall speak later. Apart from repairs, what is being done in the present day? So little that historians of the future are going to find scant pickings for their record. FRANCE The Gobelins factory being the last one to make a permanent contribution to art, the impulse is to ask what it is doing now. That is easily answered, but there is no man so optimistic that he can find therein matter for hope. France is commendably determined not to let the great industry die. It would seem a loss of ancient glory to shut down the Gobelins. Yet why does it live? It lives because a body of men have the patriotic pride to keep it alive. But as for its products, they are without inspiration, without beauty to the eye trained to higher expressions of art. The Gobelins to-day is almost purely a museum, not only in the treasures it exposes in its collection of ancient "toiles," but because here is preserved the use of the high-warp loom, and the same method of manufacture as in other and better times. A crowd of interested folk drift in and out between the portals, survey the Pavilion of Louis XIV and the court, the garden and the stream, then, turning inside, the modern surveys the work of the ancient, the remnants of time. And no less curious and no less remote do the old tapestries seem than the atelier where the high looms rear their cylinders and mute men play their colour harmonies on the warp. It all seems of other times; it all seems dead. And it is a dead art. [Illustration: GOBELINS TAPESTRY. LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY Luxembourg, Paris] [Illustration: GOBELINS TAPESTRY. LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY Pantheon, Paris] The tapestries on the looms are garish, crude, modern art in its cheapest expression; or else they are brilliant-hued copies of time-softened paintings that were never meant to be translated into wool and silk. The looms are always busy, nevertheless. There is always preserved a staff of officers, the director, the chemist of dyes, and all that; and the tapissiers are careful workmen, with perfection, not haste, in view. The State directs the work, the State pays for it, the State consumes the products. That is the Republic's way of continuing the craft that was the serious pleasure of kings. But there is now no personal element to give it the vital touch. There is no Gabrielle d'Estrées, nor Henri IV; no Medici, no Louis XIV, no Pompadour. All is impersonal, uninspired. Men who have worked in the deadening influence of the Gobelins declare that the factory cannot last much longer. But it is improbable that France--Republican France, that holds with bourgeois tenacity to aristocratic evidences--will abandon this, her expensive toy, her inheritance of the time of kings. In the time of the Second Empire it was the fashion to copy, at the Gobelins, the portraits of celebrated personages executed by Winterhalter. The exquisite portrait of the beautiful Empress Eugénie by this delectable court painter has a delicacy and grace that is all unhurt by contrast with more modern schools of painting. But fancy the texture of the lovely flesh copied in the medium of woven threads, no matter how delicately dyed and skilfully wrought. Painting is one art, tapestry-making is entirely another. But that is just where the fault lay and continued, the inability of the Gobelins ateliers to understand that the two must not be confused. The same false idea that caused Winterhalter's portraits to be copied, gave to the modern tapissiers the paintings of the high Renaissance to reproduce. Titian's most celebrated works were set up on the loom, as for example the beautiful fancy known as _Sacred and Profane Love_, which perplexes the loiterer of to-day in the Villa Borghese. Other paintings copied were Raphael's _Transfiguration_, Guido René's _Aurora_, Andrea del Sarto's _Charity_. There were many more, but this list gives sufficiently well the condition of inspiration at the Gobelins up to the third quarter of the Nineteenth Century. Paul Baudry appeared at about this time striking a clear pure note of delicate decoration. The few panels that he drew for the Gobelins charm the eye with happy reminiscences of Lebrun, of Claude Audran, a potpourri of petals fallen from the roses of yesterday mixed with the spices of to-day. But if the work of this talented artist illustrates anything, it is the change in the uses of tapestries. The modern ones are made to be framed, as flat as the wall against which they are secured. In a word, they take the place of frescoes. The pleasure of touching a mobile fabric is lost. A fold in such a dainty piece would break its beauty. Almost must a woven panel of our day fit the panel it fills as exactly as the wood-work of a room fits its dimensions. The Nineteenth Century at the Gobelins was finished by mistakenly copying Ghirlandajo, Correggio, others of their time. In the beginning of this century, the spirit of pure decoration again became animated. Instead of copying old painters, the Gobelins began to copy old cartoons. The effect of this is to increase the responsibility of the weaver, and with responsibility comes strength. The models of Boucher, and the _Grotesques_ of Italian Renaissance drawing are given even now to the weavers as a training in both taste and skill. But better than all is the present wisdom of the Gobelins, which has directly faced the fact that it were better to copy the tapestries of old excellence than to copy paintings of no matter what altitude of art. Modern cartoons are used, as we know, commanded for various public buildings in France, but the copying of old tapestries exercises a far happier influence on the weavers. If this is not an age of creation in art, at least it need not be an age of false gods, notwithstanding the seriousness given to distortions of the Matisse and post-impressionist school. A careful copying of old tapestries--and in this case old means those of the high periods of perfection--has led to a result from which much may be expected. This is the enormous reduction in the number of tones used. Gothic tapestries of stained glass effect had a restricted range of colour. By this brief gamut the weaver made his own gradations of colour, and the passage from light to shadow, by hatching, which was in effect but a weaving of alternating lines of two colours, much as an artist in pen-and-ink draws parallel lines for shading. Tapestries thus woven resist well the attacks of light and time. To sum up the present attitude of the Gobelins, then, is to say that the director of to-day encourages the education of taste in the weavers by encouraging them to copy old tapestries instead of paintings old or new, and in a reduction of the number of the tones employed. The talent of an artist is thus made necessary to the tapissier, for shadings are left to him to accomplish by his own skill instead of by recourse to the forty thousand shades that are stored on the shelves of the store-room. The manufactory at Beauvais, being also under the State, is associated with the greater factory in the glance at modern conditions. Both factories weave primarily for the State. Both factories keep alive an ancient industry, and both have permission to sell their precious wares to the private client. That such sales are rarely made is due to the indifference of the State, which stipulates that its own work shall have first place on the looms, that only when a loom is idle may it be used for a private patron. The length of time, therefore, that must elapse before an order is executed--two or three years, perhaps--is a tiresome condition that very few will accept. [Illustration: THE ADORATION Merton Abbey Tapestry. Figures by Burne-Jones] [Illustration: DAVID INSTRUCTING SOLOMON IN THE BUILDING OF THE TEMPLE Merton Abbey Tapestry. Burne-Jones, Artist] Beauvais, with its low-warp looms, is more celebrated for its small pieces of work than for large hangings. The tendency toward the latter ended some time ago, and in our time Beauvais makes mainly those exquisite coverings for seats and screens that give the beholder a thrill of artistic joy and a determination to possess something similar. The models of Béhagle, Oudry, Charron are copied with fidelity to their loveliness, and it is these that after a few years of wear on furniture take on that mellowness which long association with human hands alone can give. It is scarcely necessary to say that antique furniture tapestry is rare; its use has been too hard to withstand the years. Therefore, we may with joy and the complacency of good taste acquire new coverings of the Don Quixote or Æsop's Fables designs for our latter-day furniture or for the fine old pieces from which the original tapestries have vanished. ENGLAND The chapter on Mortlake looms shows what was accomplished by deliberate importation of an art coveted but not indigenous. It is interesting to compare this with England's entirely modern and self-made craft of the last thirty years. I allude to the tapestry factory established by William Morris and called Merton Abbey. Mr. Morris preferred the word arras as attached to his weavings, tapestry having sometimes the odious modern meaning of machine-made figured stuffs for any sort of furniture covering. But as Arras did not invent the high-warp hand-loom, nor did the Saracens, nor the Egyptians, it is but quibbling to give it arbitrarily the name of any particular locale. It seems that enough can never be said about the versatility of William Morris and the strong flood of beauty in design that he sent rippling over arid ground. It were enough had he accomplished only the work in tapestry. It is not too strong a statement that he produced at Merton Abbey the only modern tapestries that fill the primary requirements of tapestries. How did he happen upon it in these latter days? By worshipping the old hangings of the Gothic perfection, by finding the very soul of them, of their designers and of their craftsmen; then, letting that soul enter his, he set his fingers reverently to work to learn, as well, the secret of the ancient workman. It was as early as 1885 that he began; was cartoonist, dyer, tapissier, all, for the experiment, which was a small square of verdure after the manner of the Gothic, curling big acanthus leaves about a softened rose, a mingling of greens of ocean and shady reds. Perhaps it was no great matter in the way of tapestry, but it was to Morris like the discovery of a new continent to the navigator. His was the time of a so-called æsthetic school in England. Watts, Rossetti and Burne-Jones were harking back to antiquity for inspiration. Morris associated with him the latter, who drew wondrous figures of maids and men and angels, figures filled with the devout spirit of the time when religion was paramount, and perfect with the art of to-day. The romance of _The Holy Grail_ gave happy theme for the work, and three beautiful tapestries made the set. _The Adoration of the Magi_ was another, made for Exeter College, Oxford. Sir Edward Burne-Jones designed all these wondrous pictures, and the wisdom of Morris decreed that the _Grail_ series should not be oft repeated. The first figure tapestry woven on the looms was a fancy drawn by Walter Crane, called _The Goose Girl_. [Illustration: TRUTH BLINDFOLDED Merton Abbey Tapestry. Byram Shaw, Artist] The most enchantingly mediæval and most modernly perfect piece is by Burne-Jones, called _David Instructing Solomon in the Building of the Temple_. (Plate facing page 257.) In this the time of Gothic beauty lives again. Planes are repeated, figures are massed, detail is clear and impressive, yet modern laws of drawing concentrate the interest on the central action as strongly as though all else were subservient. _The Passing of Venus_ was Burne-Jones' last cartoon for Merton Abbey looms. (Plate facing page 260.) Although a critique of the art of this great painter would be out of place in a book on the applied arts, at least it is allowable to express the conviction that more beautiful, more fitting designs for tapestry it would be difficult to imagine. Modern work of this sort has produced nothing that approaches them, preserving as they do the sincerity and reverence of a simple people, the ideality of a conscientious age, yet softening all technical faults with modern finish. An unhappy fact is that this tapestry, which was considered by the Merton Abbey works as its _chef d'oeuvre_, was destroyed by fire in the Brussels Exhibition of 1910. Alas for tapestry weaving of to-day, the usual modern cartoon is a staring anachronism, and a conglomerate of modes. An "art nouveau" lady poses in a Gothic setting, a Thayer angel stands in a Boucher entourage, and both eye and intelligence are revolted. The master craftsman and artist, William Morris, alone has known how to produce acceptable modern work from modern cartoons. Other examples are _Angeli Laudantes_, and _The Adoration_. (Plates facing pages 261 and 256.) A false note is sometimes struck, even in this factory of wondrous taste. In _Truth Blindfolded_ (plate facing page 258), Mr. Byram Shaw has drawn the central figure as Cabanel might have done a decade ago, while every other figure in the group might have been done by some hand dead these four hundred years. Morris' manner of procedure differed little from that of the decorator Lebrun, although his work was a private enterprise and in no way to be compared with the royal factory of a rich king. Burne-Jones drew the figures; H. Dearle, a pupil, and Philip Webb drew backgrounds and animals, but Morris held in his own hands the arrangement of all. It was as though a gardener brought in a sheaf of cut roses and the master hand arranged them. Mr. Dearle directed some compositions with skill and talent. With the passing of William Morris an inevitable change is visible in the cartoons. The Gothic note is not continued, nor the atmosphere of sanctity, which is its usual accompaniment. A tapestry of 1908 from the design of _The Chace_ by Heyward Sumner suggests long hours with the Flemish landscapists of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries, with a jarring note of Pan dragged in by the ears to huddle under foliage obviously introduced for this purpose. [Illustration: THE PASSING OF VENUS Merton Abbey Tapestry. Cartoon by Burne-Jones] [Illustration: ANGELI LAUDANTES Merton Abbey Tapestry] But criticism of this aberration cannot hurt the wondrous inspired work directed by Morris, and which it were well for a beauty-loving world to have often repeated. Unhappily, the Merton Abbey works are bound not to repeat the superb series of the _Grail_. The entire set has been woven twice, and three pieces of it a third time--and there it ends. This is well for the value of the tapestries, but is it not a providence too thrifty when the public is considered? In ages to come, perhaps, other looms will repeat, and our times will glow with the fame thereof. Before leaving the subject of the Merton Abbey tapestries, it is interesting to note a technical change in the weaving. By intertwisting the threads of the chain or warp at the back, a way is found to avoid the slits in weaving that are left to be sewn together with the needle in all old work. This method has been proved the stronger of the two. The strain of hanging proves too great for the strength of the stitches, and on many a tapestry appear gaping wounds which call for yet more stitching. But in the new method the fabric leaves the loom intact. The determination of William Morris to catch old secrets by fitting his feet into old footsteps, led him to employ only the loom of the best weavers in the ancient long ago. The high-warp loom is the only one in use at the Merton Abbey works. AMERICA America makes heavy demands for tapestries, but the art of producing them is not indigenous here. We are not without looms, however. The first piece of tapestry woven in America--to please the ethnologist we will grant that it was woven by Zuñi or Toltec or other aborigine. But the fabric approaching that of Arras or Gobelins, was woven in New York, in 1893, in the looms of the late William Baumgarten. It is preserved as a curiosity, as being the first. It is a chair seat woven after the designs popular with Louis XV and his court, a plain background of solid colour on which is thrown a floral ornament. The loom was a small affair of the low-warp type, and was operated by a Frenchman who came to this country for the purpose of starting the craft on new soil. The sequence to this small beginning was the establishment of tapestry ateliers at Williamsbridge, a suburb of New York. Like the Gobelins factory, this was located in an old building on the banks of a little stream, the Bronx. Workmen were imported, some from Aubusson, who knew the craft; these took apprentices, as of old, and trained them for the work. The looms were all of the low-warp pattern. It may be of interest to those who like figures, to know that the work of the Baumgarten atelier averages in price about sixty dollars a square yard. Perhaps this will help a little in deciding whether or not the price is reasonable when a dealer seductively spreads his ancient wares. Modern cartoons of the Baumgarten factory lack the charm of the old designs, but the adaptations and copies of ancient pieces are particularly happy. No better execution could be wished for. The factory has increased its looms to the number of twenty-two, and has its regular corps of tapissiers, dyers, repairers, etc. Nowhere is the life of the weaver so nearly like that of his prototype in the golden age of tapestry. The colony on the Bronx is like a bit of old Europe set intact on American soil. [Illustration: AMERICAN (BAUMGARTEN) TAPESTRY COPIED FROM THE GOTHIC] [Illustration: DRYADS AND FAUNS From Herter Looms, New York, 1910] It is odd that New York should have more tapestry looms at work than has Paris. The Baumgarten looms exceed in number the present Gobelins, and the Herter looms add many more. The ateliers of Albert Herter are in the busiest part of New York, and here are woven by hand many fabrics of varying degrees of excellence. It is not Mr. Herter's intention to produce only fine wall hangings, but to supply as well floor coverings "a la façon de Perse," as the ancient documents had it, and to make it possible for persons of taste, but not necessarily fortune, to have hand-woven portières of artistic value. Apart from this commendable aim, the Herter looms are also given to making copies of the antique in the finest of weaving, and to producing certain original pieces expressing the decorative spirit of our day. Besides this, the work is distinguished by certain combinations of antique and modern style that confuse the seeker after purity of style. That the effect is pleasing must be acknowledged as illustrated in the plate showing a tapestry for the country house of Mrs. E. H. Harriman. (Plate facing page 263.) It is not easy in a review of tapestry weaving of to-day to find any great encouragement. These are times of commerce more than of art. If art can be made profitable commercially, well and good. If not, it starves in a garret along with the artist. If the demand for modern tapestries was large enough, the art would flourish--perhaps. But it is not a large demand, for many reasons, chief among which is the incontrovertible one that the modern work is seldom pleasing. The whole world is occupied with science and commerce, and art does not create under their influence as in more ideal times. What can the trained eye and the cultivated taste do other than turn back to the products of other days? We have artists in our own country whose qualities would make of them marvellous composers of cartoons. The imagination and execution of Maxfield Parrish, for example, added to his richness of colouring, would be translatable in wool under the hands of an artist-weaver. And the designs which take the name of "poster" and are characterised by strength, simplicity and few tones, why would they not give the same crispness of detail that constitutes one of the charms of Gothic work? Perhaps the factories existent in America will work out this line of thought, combine it with honesty of material and labour, and give us the honour of prominence in an ancient art's revival. FINIS BEST PERIODS AND THEIR DATES EARLIEST TAPESTRY LOOMS Prehistoric EUROPEAN EARLY ATTEMPTS Twelfth To Fourteenth Centuries ARRAS AND BURGUNDIAN TAPESTRY Early Fifteenth Century GOTHIC PERFECTION, FLANDERS About Fifteen Hundred GOTHIC PERFECTION, FRANCE About Fifteen Hundred ITALIAN FACTORIES Fifteenth Century RAPHAEL CARTOONS IN FLANDERS 1515-1519 RENAISSANCE PERFECTION, FLANDERS 1515 To Second Half of Century BRUSSELS MARK 1528 FLEMISH DECADENCE End of Sixteenth Century FRENCH RISE End of Sixteenth Century FRENCH ORGANISATION 1597, Reign of Henri IV ENGLISH SUPREMACY, MORTLAKE ESTABLISHED 1619 ESTABLISHMENT OF GOBELINS 1662, Reign of Louis XIV BEST HEROIC PERIOD OF GOBELINS Last Half of Seventeenth Century BEST DECORATIVE PERIOD OF GOBELINS Middle of Eighteenth Century DECADENCE OF GOBELINS End of Eighteenth Century RECENT TIMES, ENGLAND, WM. MORRIS End of Nineteenth Century RECENT TIMES, AMERICA End of Nineteenth Century INDEX Abbot Robert, 20. _Achilles, Story of_, 169. Adelaide, Queen, 22. _Adoration of the Eternal Father, The_, 59, 250, 260. _Adoration of the Magi, The_, 258. _Acts of the Apostles_, 64, 86, 147, 169, 197, 205, 214, 221. _Alcisthenes, Mantle of_, 19. _Alexander, History of_, 115, 172, 197. Alfonso II (d'Este), 83. America, 261-264. American interest, 10. Amorini, 209. Andrea del Sarto, 73. _Angeli Laudantes_, 260. Angers, 29, 30. Angivillier, Count of, 131, 133, 137. _Annunciation, The_, 61. Antin, Duke d', 128, 130, 131, 148. _Antony and Cleopatra_, 80, 110, 151, 187, 210, 222. _Apocalypse_, 23, 25, 30, 45, 217. Apprentices, 5. Architectural detail, 177-179. _Armide_, 130. Arras, 28, 32, 34, 38, 47, 48, 51, 54, 66, 90, 106, 129, 163, 176, 203, 229. Arazzeria Medicea, 84. Artemisia, 93, 94. Artois, 32, 34, 163. Aubusson, 150, 152-158. Audran, Claude, 122-124, 126-128, 132. Audran, Jean, 138. _Aurora_, 254. Babylon, 18. Bacchiacca, 76, 223. Backgrounds, 185. _Baillée des Roses_, 42, 176, 181. Bajazet, 35. Barberini, 87, 88, 131, 208. Basse lisse, 3, 193, 227. Bataille, Nicolas, 29, 30, 217. Baudry, Paul, 254. Baumgarten, 232, 238, 239, 262. Bayeux Tapestry, 21, 241-248. Beauvais, 4, 121, 135, 145-153, 154, 163, 256. Beaux Art, École des, 204. Béhagle, Philip, 147, 148, 257. Belle, Augustin, 138. Bellegarde, 157. Berne, Cathedral of, 37, 53. Bernini, 10. Berthélemy, 141. Besnier, 152. Bible, influence of, 130. Bièvre, 105, 106, 107. Blamard, Louis, 99, 103. Blumenthal collection, 74, 75, 78, 196, 205. Bobbin, 4. _Book of Hours_, 41. Borders, 132, 147, 158, 169, 170, 172, 173, 188-190, 201-215. Boston Museum of Fine Arts, 15, 46, 56, 238. Botticelli, 180. Boucher, 131, 132, 135, 141, 151. Boulle, 107. Bourg, Maurice du, 93, 94, 95, 96. Broche, 4, 223, 227, 228, 229. Bruges, 54, 55, 221. Brussels, 7, 9, 10, 29, 38, 48, 54, 55, 57, 64, 66, 68-72, 76, 78, 90, 111, 129, 141, 163, 194, 197, 216, 218, 219, 221, 229. Brussels Mark, 217. Burgundian tapestry, 37, 45, 160, 174. Burgundy, Dukes of, 22, 33, 34, 36, 38, 39, 46, 47, 48, 51. Burne-Jones, 258, 259. Caffieri, 107. Carron, Antoine, 94. Carthaginians, 19. Cartoons, 56, 151, 155, 173, 176, 231, 255. Cartouche, 207. Casanova, 151. Cellini, Benvenuto, 7. _Charity_, 254. Charles I, 167, 168, 170, 171. Charles V, 32. Charles V, Emperor, 62, 75, 82, 83, 220. Charles VI, 29. Charles VII, 42. Charles VIII, 48. Charles le Téméraire, 36, 45, 47, 51, 66. Chef d'atelier, 5. Chicago Institute of Art, 47, 78, 221. China, 18. Circe, 19. Clein, or Cleyn, Francis, 166, 169, 170, 171. Cluny Museum of Paris, 44, 54. Colbert, 99, 102, 103, 107, 108, 109, 116, 117, 118, 121, 145, 155, 156. Colours, 191-193, 210, 211, 233-236. Comans, Charles de, 222. Comans, or Coomans, Marc, 95-97, 107, 165, 166, 231. _Condemnation of Suppers and Banquets, The_, 51. _Conquest of Tunis_, 75, 220. _Constantine, History of_, 112. Copies, 197-200. Coptic, 15, 16. Cornelisz, Lucas, 82. Correggio, 209. Cortona, Pietro di, 87. Cosimo I, Duke of Tuscany, 84, 85. Cosmati brothers, 178. Costumes, 181-183. Cotte, Jules Robert de, 122, 129, 131. Coypel, Antoine, 130. Coypel, Charles, 12, 127, 128, 130, 132, 150. Cozette, 132. Crane, Richard, 171. Crane, Sir Francis, 165, 167, 168, 170, 171, 223. Crane, Walter, 259. Crusades, 19, 24. _Cupid and Psyche_, 132. David, 136, 140, 142, 143, 144. _David Instructing Solomon, etc._, 259. Dearle, H., 260. Delacroix, Jean, 109. Devonshire, Duke of, 46. _Diana, History of_, 92. Directing artist, 5. Director, 4. Directory, 139, 142. _Don Quixote_, 127, 132, 133, 152. Dosso, Battista, 82. Dourdin, 30. Ducal Palace at Nancy, tapestry room of, 51, 65. Du Mons, Jean Joseph, 158. Dupont, Pierre, 161. Dye, scarlet, of the Gobelin brothers, 106. Dyes, 6, 218, 233, 234. Dyes at Aubusson, 156. Edward the Confessor, 260. Egypt, 18, 27. Egyptian drawing, 15. Egyptian loom, 16. Egyptian weaving, 16. Egyptian work, 7. Eighteenth Century, 76, 123, 152, 158, 180, 185, 187, 190, 211, 222, 236, 257-261. Eleventh Century, 23. Elizabeth, Queen, 164. _Enfants Jardiniers_, 74. Enghien, 103, 221, 222. England, 54, 223. Ercole II (d'Este), 82-84. Este, d', 82-84, 91, 223. _Esther and Ahasuerus_, 190. Europe, 18, 19. _Fables of La Fontaine_, 149-152. Felletin, 157. Ferrara, 82, 83, 223. Ffoulke collection, 88, 89, 131. Fifteenth Century, 22, 27, 46, 51, 54, 58, 81, 106, 160, 163, 176, 183, 184, 196, 202. Filleul, 148. Flanders, 6, 7, 28, 54, 68, 110, 121, 150, 163, 169, 176, 208. Flemish tapestry, 9, 79. Fleur-de-lis, use of, 38, 222. Florence factory, 223. Flowers, use of, 52, 180, 181. Flute, 4, 227, 228, 229. Fontainebleau, 91, 92. Foucquet, 100-105. Fouquet, Jean, 42. Fourteenth Century, 25, 27, 30, 106, 176, 183. France, 10, 28, 54, 90, 110, 163, 176, 252-257. Francis I, 90, 91. French terms, 4. Furniture, 133, 134, 135, 146, 149, 152, 159, 162. Galloon, 173, 201, 204, 219, 221. Genoa, 89. Germany, 54, 160. Geubels, Jacques, 79, 221. Ghent, 66. Giotto, 27, 216. Giulio Romano, 73, 74, 84, 93, 118. Gobelin, Jean and Philibert, 105, 106. Gobelins, 10, 30, 90, 93, 99, 103-107, 109, 111, 112, 115-122, 128-131, 133, 135, 137-145, 154, 159, 161, 162, 203, 205, 222, 236, 252. Gobelins Museum (Paris), 92, 99, 252. Gold, use of, 6. Gonnor (Duchess), 21. Gonzaga, 61, 81. _Goose Girl, The_, 259. Gothic border, 60, 61. Gothic columns, use of, 39, 52, 177, 178. Gothic drawing, 174-177. Gothic flowers, 180, 181. Gothic period, 7, 8, 16, 52, 69, 188, 192. Gothic style, 5, 27, 53, 66. Greece, 18, 27. Greek drawing, 15. Greek influence, 186. _Grotesque Months_, 76, 127. Guildhall, 7. Guilds, 6, 7. Halberstadt, Cathedral at, 23. Hallé, 131. Hardwick Hall tapestries, 46. Harriman, Mrs. E. H., 263. Haute lisse, 3, 193, 194, 227. Helen, 19, 21. Helly, 35. Henri II, 92. Henri IV, 10, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 107, 146, 160, 161, 164, 165, 212. Henry V, 31. Henry VIII, 164, 251. _Hero and Leander, History of_, 169. _Herse and Mercury_, 205. Herter, 238, 239, 263. High-loom, 15, 18. High-warp, 3, 16, 19, 27, 29, 95, 109, 157, 193, 227, 228, 229. Hinart, Louis, 146, 147. Hiss, Philip, 170, 224. _History of Alexander_, 115, 172, 197. _History of Constantine_, 112. _History of Esther_, 131, 132. _History of Gideon_, 36. _History of Hero and Leander_, 169. _History of Meleager_, 112. _History of the King_, 112, 113, 129, 222. _Holy Grail, The_, 258. _Horrors of the Seven Deadly Sins, The_, 51. _Hunt of Meleager_, 99. _Hunts of Louis XV_, 130, 188. Identifications, 172-200. Iliad, influence of, 130. India, 18. Italy, 6, 10, 54, 71, 81, 86, 110, 152, 168, 208, 223. James I, 164-167. Jans, Jean, 109, 126. John, Revelation of, 23. John without Fear, 36, 45. Jouvenet, 130. _Judgment of Paris, The_, 119. Jumeau, Pierre le, 28, 29. Karcher, John, 82. Karcher, Nicholas, 76, 82, 84, 85, 223. _Kingdom of Heaven, The_, 59. King's Works, 171. _Lady and the Unicorn, The_, 44, 54, 175, 181, 203. Lancaster, Duke of, 33. La Marche, 157, 158. La Planche, Raphael de, 96, 165, 166. Laurent, Henri, 95, 96, 109. Lebrun, 74, 99, 103, 104, 107, 109-120, 188, 203, 209, 211, 212, 213. Lefèvre (or Lefebvre), 98, 109, 126, 222, 223. Leipzig, 152. Leleu, 105. Leo X, Pope, 70, 71, 86. Leonardo da Vinci, 90. Le Pape, 147. Leprince, 151. Lerambert, Henri, 94, 211. Lettering, 183-184, 203. Leyniers, Nicolas, 221. Liége, tapestries of, 48. _Life of Marie de Medici_, 197. _Life of the King_, 114, 144, 188. Lisse, 3, 193. Loches, church of, 41. London, 165. "Long wool" (_longue laine_), 160. Looms, 3, 226-230. Lorenzo the Magnificent, 86. Louis XI, 36, 47, 48, 50, 54. Louis XII, 48. Louis XIII, 98. Louis XIV, 10, 97-107, 117, 118, 122, 129, 145, 155-157, 161, 188, 203, 211, 212. Louis XV, 127, 128, 129, 132, 133, 135, 136, 150, 162, 191, 205, 213. Louis XVI, 133, 136, 137, 152, 162. Louvois, 116-121. Louvre, 97, 108, 109, 115, 160, 161. _Loves of the Gods_, 132. Low-warp, 3, 78, 109, 114, 147, 157, 158, 193, 227, 228, 230. Maecht, Philip de, 166, 170, 223, 224. Maincy, factory of. _See_ Vaux. Maintenon, Mme. de, 118, 122, 124. Mangelschot, 138. Mantegna, Andrea, 61, 73, 81, 171. Manufactory, Royal (Aubusson), 156. Marie Antoinette, 133, 137, 152. _Marie de Medici, Life of_, 197. Marie Thérèse, 118. Marks, 216-224. Martel, Charles, 154, 155. Mary's Chamber at Holyrood, 65. Master-weaver, 6. Matilda (Queen), 21, 242, 245. _Mausolus and Artemisia_, 93. Mazarin, Cardinal, 59, 100. Mazarin tapestry, 56, 196. Medici, 84, 92, 94. _Meleager and Atalanta_, 222. Memling, 55. Mercier, Pierre, 157. _Mercury_, 75, 76, 78, 196. Merton Abbey, 252, 257-261. Metropolitan Museum of Art, 15, 40, 42, 46, 52, 58, 59, 76, 80, 162, 170, 174, 176, 187, 210, 238. Meulen, François de la, 114. Michael Angelo, 84. Micou, 148. Middle Ages, 5, 6, 7, 19, 21, 27, 42, 201. Mignard, Pierre, 119, 120, 121. Millefleurs, 4, 13. Missals, 5. Monasteries, influence of, 21, 22. Montespan, Mme. de, 118, 131, 148. Montezert, Pierre de, 158. _Months, The_, 112, 133, 197, 212. Morgan, J. P., 40, 56, 59, 128, 196, 250. Morris, William, 257-261. Mortlake, 163-171, 197, 223. Mozin, Jean Baptiste, 109. _Muses_, 104, 141. Museums, Boston Fine Arts, 15, 46, 56, 238; Chicago Institute of Art, 47, 78, 221; Cluny, 44, 54; Gobelins (Paris), 92, 99, 252; Metropolitan (New York), 15, 40, 42, 52, 58, 59, 76, 80, 162, 170, 174, 176, 187, 210, 238; Nancy, 37. _Mysteries of the Life and Death of Jesus Christ, The_, 87, 208. Nancy, Museum of, 37. Nantes, Edict of; its effect, 95, 118, 157. Napoleon, 136, 142, 143, 144, 208. _Napoleon Crossing the Alps_, 144. Natoire, Charles, 151. Neilson, 132. Nineteenth Century, 255. Notre Dame, 21. Otho, Count of Burgundy, 32. Oudenarde, 221. Oudry, 131, 148-152, 257. Pannemaker, Wilhelm de, 62, 75, 220. Paris, 10, 28, 29, 30, 47, 51, 90, 98, 132, 163, 222, 229. Parrish, Maxfield, 264. Parrocel, Charles, 130. _Passing of Venus, The_, 259. Pendleton, Charlotte, 235. Penelope, 15, 16, 21, 227. Pepersack, Daniel, 99. Percier, 143. "_Perse, à la façon de, ou du Levant_," 160. Persia, 19. Personages, 4. Perspective, 175-177. Pharaohs, 18, 57. Philip the Good, 36. Philip the Hardy, 22, 29, 33, 34, 35, 45. Philippe (Regent), 122, 128, 134, 148, 236. Pickering, Sir Gilbert, 171. Pius X, Pope, 9. Planche, François de la, 95, 96, 97, 107. Poitiers, 23, 154, 155. Poitou, Count of, 23. _Portières des Dieux_, 126. Portraits, 133, 140, 143, 162, 253. _Presentation in the Temple, The_, 30. Quedlimburg Hanging, 25. Quentin Matsys, 58, 59. Raphael, 9, 64, 67, 69, 70, 71, 79, 84, 118, 119, 145, 169, 187, 189, 205, 207, 214, 216, 221. Ravaillac, 97. Renaissance, influence of, 9, 53, 61, 67, 68, 69, 70, 77, 78, 174, 178, 182, 184, 186, 187, 188, 189, 191, 192. _Renommés, Les_, 111. Repairs, 237-240. Revolution, French, 137, 138, 139, 140, 142, 152. _Reward of Virtue, The_, 51. Rheims, 99, 155. Richelieu, 99. Riesner, 107. Riviera, Giacomo della, 87. Rococo, 128. Roman influence, 186. Romanelli, 87, 88, 130. Romano, Giulio, 73, 74, 84, 93, 118. Rome, 18, 27. Rome, Jean de, or Jan von Room, 56, 58, 59, 216. Rost, John, 76, 84, 85, 223. Rouen, 21. Royal Collection, Madrid, 187. _Royal Hunts, The_, 130, 188. _Royal Residences, The_, 112, 197, 203, 212. Rubens, 79, 104, 110, 111, 112, 169, 187, 209, 210, 211, 214. Ryerson collection, 59, 60, 61. Ryswick, Peace of, 121. _Sack of Jerusalem, The_, 45, 176. _Sacraments, The_, 38, 46, 52, 174, 176, 192. _Sacred and Profane Love_, 254. St. Denis, abbey of, 22. St. Florent, Abbot of, 23. St. Germain, 109. St. John the Divine, Cathedral of, 87, 88, 208. St. Marceau, 97. St. Merri, 95. Saracens, 28, 154, 155, 178. Sarrazinois, 28, 29, 47. Saumur, 20. Savonnerie, 97, 159-162. _Seasons, The_, 132. _Seven Cardinal Virtues, The_, 34. _Seven Cardinal Vices, The_, 34. _Seven Deadly Sins, The_, 6, 250. Seventeenth Century, 10, 76, 86, 96, 99, 123, 158, 160, 163, 180, 185, 187, 194, 207, 208, 211. Sevigné, Mme. de, 101, 103. Sforza Castle, 90. Shaw, Byram, 260. Shuttle, 4. _Siege of Calais_, 141. Silver, use of, 6. Sixteenth Century, 29, 54, 56, 58, 62, 73, 74, 79, 163, 183, 187, 221, 223. Sorel, Agnes, 41. Spain, 54. Spitzer, collection of Baron, 59, 60, 61. _Spring_, 180. Stockholm, 152. _Story of Christ, The_, 99. "Stromaturgie, La," 161. Stradano, 85. Sully, 94, 95, 164. Sumner, Howard, 260. Tapissiers, 4, 5, 228. Tenth Century, 20, 22. Tessier, Louis, 135. Thirteenth Century, 25, 26, 27, 28. Titian, 73. Tournelles, 96, 97. Tours, 99. _Transfiguration, The_, 254. "Très Riches Heures, Les," 41. Trinité, Hôpital de la, 92, 93, 95, 97, 109. _Triumph of Cæsar, The_, 171. _Triumph of Right, The_, 51. _Triumphs of the Gods_, 74. _Troy, History of_, 81. Troy, J. F. de, 131. _Truth Blindfolded_, 260. Tuileries, 97. Tuscans, 27. Twelfth Century, 23, 28. Urban VIII, History of, 88. Urbino, Duke Frederick of, 81. Vallière, Mme. de la, 118. Van Aelst, 70, 71, 86, 220, 221, 222. Van den Strecken, Gerard, 80, 222. Van der Straaten, Johan, 85. Van Dyck, 169. Van Eycks, 27, 55, 58. Van Orley, Bernard, 55, 220. Vaux, factory of, 99, 103, 105, 111, 112. Venice, 10, 89. _Venus_, 180. Verdure, 4, 158, 222. Vermeyen, Jan, 62. Veronese, Paolo, 73. Versailles, 109. _Vertumnus and Pomona, The Loves of_, 76, 78, 220. Vignory, Count of, 131. _Virgin and Saints_, 21. _Visit of Louis XIV to the Gobelins_, 113. Von Zedlitz, Anna, 170, 224. Vouet, Simon, 211. _Vulcan, The Expulsion of_, 170, 224. _Vulcan, Story of_, 169. Warp, 232. Watteau, André, 126, 188. Wauters, 87. Weave, 194-196. Weavers, 5. Webb, Philip, 260. William the Conqueror, 242. Williamsbridge, 262. Winterhalter, 253. Woolsey, Cardinal, 250. Zègre, Jean, 103. Transcriber's Note Minor typographic errors of spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been repaired. Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved as printed. The following errors in facing page number references have been repaired: Page 61--plate reference to page 81 amended to 82. Page 76--plate references for the "Vertumnus and Pomona" series amended from 39 through 42 to 72 through 75. 
31714	----	produced from scanned images of public domain material from the Google Print project.) Transcriber's Note Words in {curly brackets} were abbreviated in the original text, and have been expanded for this etext. Greek is indicated with plus symbols, +like this+. THE ART OF NEEDLE-WORK, FROM THE EARLIEST AGES; INCLUDING SOME NOTICES OF THE ANCIENT HISTORICAL TAPESTRIES EDITED BY THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE COUNTESS OF WILTON. "I WRITE THE NEEDLE'S PRAYSE." _THIRD EDITION._ LONDON: HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1841. TO HER MOST GRACIOUS MAJESTY THE QUEEN DOWAGER THIS LITTLE WORK, INTENDED TO ILLUSTRATE THE HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF AN ART ENNOBLED BY HER MAJESTY'S PRACTICE, AND BY HER EXAMPLE RECOMMENDED TO THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND, IS, BY HER MAJESTY'S MOST GRACIOUS PERMISSION, INSCRIBED, WITH THE UTMOST RESPECT, BY HER MAJESTY'S MOST GRATEFUL AND MOST OBEDIENT SERVANT, THE AUTHORESS. PREFACE. If there be one mechanical art of more universal application than all others, and therefore of more universal interest, it is that which is practised with the NEEDLE. From the stateliest denizen of the proudest palace, to the humblest dweller in the poorest cottage, all more or less ply the busy needle; from the crying infant of a span long and an hour's life, to the silent tenant of "the narrow house," all need its practical services. Yet have the NEEDLE and its beautiful and useful creations hitherto remained without their due meed of praise and record, either in sober prose or sounding rhyme,--while their glittering antithesis, the scathing and destroying sword, has been the theme of admiring and exulting record, without limit and without end! The progress of real civilization is rapidly putting an end to this false _prestige_ in favour of the "Destructive" weapon, and as rapidly raising the "Conservative" one in public estimation; and the time seems at length arrived when that triumph of female ingenuity and industry, "THE ART OF NEEDLEWORK" may be treated as a fitting subject of historical and social record--fitting at least for a female hand. The chief aim of this volume is that of affording a comprehensive record of the most noticeable facts, and an entertaining and instructive gathering together of the most curious and pleasing associations, connected with "THE ART OF NEEDLEWORK," from the earliest ages to the present day; avoiding entirely the dry technicalities of the art, yet furnishing an acceptable accessory to every work-table--a fitting tenant of every boudoir. The Authoress thinks thus much necessary in explanation of the objects of a work on what may be called a maiden topic, and she trusts that that leniency in criticism which is usually accorded to the adventurer on an unexplored track will not be withheld from her. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Page Introductory 1 CHAPTER II. Early Needlework 11 CHAPTER III. Needlework of the Tabernacle 23 CHAPTER IV. Needlework of the Egyptians 32 CHAPTER V. Needlework of the Greeks and Romans 41 CHAPTER VI. The Dark Ages.--"Shee-Schools" 56 CHAPTER VII. Needlework of the Dark Ages 64 CHAPTER VIII. The Bayeux Tapestry.--Part I. 84 CHAPTER IX. The Bayeux Tapestry.--Part II. 103 CHAPTER X. Needlework of the Times of Romance and Chivalry 117 CHAPTER XI. Tapestry 148 CHAPTER XII. Romances worked in Tapestry 165 CHAPTER XIII. Needlework in Costume.--Part I. 186 CHAPTER XIV. Needlework in Costume.--Part II. 209 CHAPTER XV. "The Field of the Cloth of Gold" 231 CHAPTER XVI. The Needle 252 CHAPTER XVII. Tapestry from the Cartoons 273 CHAPTER XVIII. The Days of "Good Queen Bess" 282 CHAPTER XIX. The Tapestry of the Spanish Armada; better known as the Tapestry of the House of Lords 301 CHAPTER XX. On Stitchery 312 CHAPTER XXI. "Les Anciennes Tapisseries." Tapestry of St. Mary Hall, Coventry. Tapestry of Hampton Court 329 CHAPTER XXII. Embroidery 342 CHAPTER XXIII. Needlework on Books 355 CHAPTER XXIV. Needlework of Royal Ladies 374 CHAPTER XXV. Modern Needlework 395 THE ART OF NEEDLEWORK. INTRODUCTION. CHAPTER I. "Le donne son venute in eccellenza Di ciascun'arte, ove hanno posto cura; E qualunque all'istorie abbia avvertenza, Ne sente ancor la fama non oscura. * * * * * E forse ascosi han lor debiti onori L'invidia, o il non saper degli scrittori." Ariosto. In all ages woman may lament the ungallant silence of the historian. His pen is the record of sterner actions than are usually the vocation of the gentler sex, and it is only when fair individuals have been by extraneous circumstances thrown out, as it were, on the canvas of human affairs--when they have been forced into a publicity little consistent with their natural sphere--that they have become his theme. Consequently those domestic virtues which are woman's greatest pride, those retiring characteristics which are her most becoming ornament, those gentle occupations which are her best employment, find no record on pages whose chief aim and end is the blazoning of manly heroism, of royal disputations, or of trumpet-stirring records. And if this is the case even with historians of enlightened times, who have the gallantry to allow woman to be a component part of creation, we can hardly wonder that in darker days she should be utterly and entirely overlooked. Mohammed asserted that women had no souls; and moreover, that, setting aside the "diviner part," there had only existed _four_ of whom the mundane qualifications entitled them to any degree of approbation. Before him, Aristotle had asserted that Nature only formed women when and because she found that the imperfection of matter did not permit her to carry on the world without them. This complimentary doctrine has not wanted supporters. "Des hommes très sages ont écrit que la Nature, dont l'intention et le dessein est toujours de tendre à la perfection, ne produirait s'il était possible, jamais que des hommes, et que quand il naît une femme c'est un monstre dans l'ordre de ses productions, né expressément contre sa volonté: ils ajoutent, que, comme on voit naître un homme aveugle, boiteux, ou avec quelqu'autre défaut nature; et comme on voit à certains arbres des fruits qui ne mûrissent jamais; ainsi l'on peut dire que la femme est un animal produit par accident et par le hasard."[1] Without touching upon this extreme assertion that woman is but "un monstre," an animal produced by chance, we may observe briefly, that women have ever, with some few exceptions,[2] been considered as a degraded and humiliated race, until the promulgation of the Christian religion elevated them in society: and that this distinction still exists is evident from the difference at this moment exhibited between the countries professing Mohammedanism and those professing Christianity. Still, though in our happy country it is now pretty generally allowed that women are "des créatures humaines," it is no new remark that they are comparatively lightly thought of by the "nobler" gender. This is absolutely the case even in those countries where civilization and refinement have elevated the sex to a higher grade in society than they ever before reached. Women are courted, flattered, caressed, extolled; but still the difference is there, and the "lords of the creation" take care that it shall be understood. Their own pursuits--public, are the theme of the historian--private, of the biographer; nay, the every-day circumstances of life--their dinners--their speeches--their toasts--and their _post coenam_ eloquence, are noted down for immortality: whilst a woman with as much sense, with more eloquence, with lofty principles, enthusiastic feelings, and pure conduct--with sterling virtue to command respect, and the self-denying conduct of a martyr--steals noiselessly through her appointed path in life; and if she excite a passing comment during her pilgrimage, is quickly lost in oblivion when that pilgrimage hath reached its appointed goal. And this is but as it should be. Woe to that nation whose women, as a habit, as a custom, as a matter of course, seek to intrude on the attributes of the other sex, and in a vain, a foolish, and surely a most unsuccessful pursuit of publicity, or power, or fame, forget the distinguishing, the high, the noble, the lofty, the pure and _unearthly_ vocation of their sex. Every earthly charity, every unearthly virtue, are the legitimate object of woman's pursuit. It is hers to soothe pain, to alleviate suffering, to soften discord, to solace the time-worn spirit on earth, to train the youthful one for heaven. Such is woman's magnificent vocation; and in the peaceful discharge of such duties as these she may be content to steal noiselessly on to her appointed bourne, "the world forgetting, by the world forgot." But these splendid results are not the effect of great exertions--of sudden, and uncertain, and enthusiastic efforts. They are the effect of a course, of a system of minor actions and of occupations, _individually_ insignificant in their appearance, and noiseless in their approach. They are like "the gentle dew from heaven" in their silent unnoted progress, and, like that, are known only by their blessed results. They involve a routine of minor duties which often appear, at first view, little if at all connected with such mighty ends. But such an inference would lead to a false conclusion. It is entirely of insignificant details that the sum of human life is made up; and any one of those details, how insignificant soever _apparently_ in itself, as a link in the chain of human life is of _definite_ relative value. The preparing of a spoonful of gruel may seem a very insignificant matter; yet who that stands by the sick-bed of one near and dear to him, and sees the fevered palate relieved, the exhausted frame refreshed by it, but will bless the hand that made it? It is not the independent intrinsic worth of each isolated action of woman which stamps its value--it is their bearing and effect on the mass. It is the daily and hourly accumulation of minute particles which form the vast amount. And if we look for that feminine employment which adds most absolutely to the comforts and the elegancies of life, to what other shall we refer than to NEEDLEWORK? The hemming of a pocket-handkerchief is a trivial thing in itself, yet it is a branch of an art which furnishes a useful, a graceful, and an agreeable occupation to one-half of the human race, and adds very materially to the comforts of the other half. How sings our own especial Bard?-- "So long as garments shall be made or worne; So long as hemp, or flax, or sheep shall bear Their linnen wollen fleeces yeare by yeare; So long as silkwormes, with exhausted spoile Of their own entrailes, for mans gaine shall toyle: Yea, till the world be quite dissolv'd and past, So long, at least, the NEEDLE'S use shall last." 'Tis true, indeed, that as far as _necessity_, rigidly speaking, is concerned, a very small portion of needlework would suffice; but it is also true that the very signification of the word necessity is lost, buried amidst the accumulations of ages. We talk habitually of _mere necessaries_, but the fact is, that we have hardly an idea of what merely necessities are. St. Paul, the hermit, when abiding in the wilderness, might be reduced to necessities; and in that noble and exalted instance of high principle referred to by Mr. Wesley,[3] where a person unknown to others, seeking no praise, and looking to no reward but the applaudings of his own conscience, bought a pennyworth of parsnips weekly, and on them, and them alone, with the water in which they were boiled, lived, that he might save money to pay his debts.--Surely a man of such incorruptible integrity as this would spend nothing intentionally in superfluities of dress--and yet, mark how many he would have. His shirt would be "curiously wrought," his neckcloth neatly hemmed; his coat and waistcoat and trousers would have undergone the usual mysteries of shaping and seaming; his hat would be neatly bound round the edge; his stockings woven or knitted; his shoes soled and stitched and tied; neither must we debar him a pocket-handkerchief and a pair of gloves. And see what this man--as great, nay, a greater anchoret in his way than St. Paul, for he had the world and its temptations all around, while the saint had fled from both--yet see what _he_ thought absolutely requisite in lieu of the sheepskin which was St. Paul's wardrobe. See what was required "to cover and keep warm" in the eighteenth century,--nay, not even to "keep warm," for we did not allow either great-coat or comforter. See then what was required merely to "cover," and then say whether the art of needlework is a trivial one. Could we, as in days of yore, when sylphs and fairies deigned to mingle with mortals, and shed their gracious influence on the scenes and actions of every-day life--could we, by some potent spell or by some fitting oblation, propitiate the Genius of Needlework, induce her to descend from her hidden shrine, and indulge her votaries with a glimpse of her radiant SELF--what a host of varied reminiscences would that glimpse conjure up in our minds, as-- "----guided by historic truth, We _trod_ the long extent of backward time!" SHE was twin born with necessity, the first necessity the world had ever known, but she quickly left this stern and unattractive companion, and followed many leaders in her wide and varied range. She became the handmaiden of Fancy; she adorned the train of Magnificence; she waited upon Pomp; she decorated Religion; she obeyed Charity; she served Utility; she aided Pleasure; she pranked out Fun; and she mingled with all and every circumstance of life. Many changes and chances has it been her lot to behold. At one time honoured and courted, she was the acknowledged and cherished guest of the royal and noble. Then in gorgeous drapery, begemmed with brilliants, bedropped with gold, she reigned supreme in hall and palace; or in silken tissue girt she adorned the high-born maiden's bower what time the "deeds of knighthood" were "in solemn canto" told. In still more rich array, in kingly purple, in regal tissue, in royal magnificence, she stood within the altar's sacred pale; and her robes, rich in Tyrian dye, and glittering with Ophir's gold, swept the hallowed pavement. When battle aroused the land she inspirited the host. When the banner was unfurled she pointed to the device which sent its message home to every heart; she displayed the cipher on the hero's pennon which nerved him sooner to relinquish life than it; she entwined those initials in the scarf, the sight of which struck fresh ardour into his breast. But she fell into disrepute, and was rejected from the halls of the noble. Still was she ever busy, ever occupied, and not only were her services freely given to all who required them, but given with such winning grace that she required but to be once known to be ever loved--so exquisitely did she adapt herself to the peculiarities of all. With flowing ringlets and silken robe, carolling gaily as she worked, you would see her pinking the ruffles of the Cavalier, and ever and anon adding to their piquancy by some new and dainty device: then you would behold her with smoothly plaited hair, and sad-coloured garment of serge, and looks like a November day, hemming the bands of a Roundhead, and withal adding numerous layers of starch. With grave and sedate aspect she would shape and sew the uncomely raiment of a Genevan divine; with neat-handed alacrity she would prepare the grave and becoming garments of the Anglican Church, though perhaps a gentle sigh would escape, a sigh of regret for the stately and glowing vestments of old: for they did honour to the house of God, not because they were stately and glowing, but because they were offerings of _our best_. In all the sweet charities of domestic life she has ever been a participant. Often and again has she fled the splendid court, the glittering ball-room, and taken her station at the quiet hearth of the gentle and home-loving matron. She has lightened the weariness of many a solitary vigil, and she has heightened the enjoyment of many a social gossip. Nor even while courted and caressed in courts and palaces did Needlework absent herself from the habitations of the poor. Oh no, she was their familiar friend, the daily and hourly companion of their firesides. And when she experienced, as all do experience, the fickleness of court favour, she was cherished and sheltered there. And there she remained, happy in her utility, till again summoned by royal mandate to resume her station near the throne. The illustrious and excellent lady who lately filled the British throne, and who reigned still more surely in the hearts of Englishwomen, and who has most graciously permitted us to place her honoured name on these pages, allured Needlework from her long seclusion, and reinstated her in her once familiar place among the great and noble. * * * * * Fair reader! you see that this gentle dame NEEDLEWORK is of ancient lineage, of high descent, of courtly habits: will you not permit me to make you somewhat better acquainted? Pray travel onward with me to her shrine. The way is not toilsome, nor is the track rugged; but, "Where the silver fountains wander, Where the golden streams meander," amid the sunny meads and flower-bestrewn paths of fancy and taste--there will she beguile us. Do not then, pray do not, forsake me. FOOTNOTES: [1] On aurait de la peine à se persuader qu'une pareille opinion eût été mise gravement en question dans un concile, et qu'on n'eût décidé en faveur des femmes qu'après un assez long examen. Cependant le fait est très véritable, et ce fut dans le Concile de Macon. Problème sur les Femmes, où l'on essaye de prouver que les femmes ne sont point des créatures humaines.--_Amsterdam, 1744._ [2] As, for instance, the ancient Germans, and their offshoots, the Saxons, &c. [3] Southey's Life; vol. ii. CHAPTER II. EARLY NEEDLEWORK. "The use of sewing is exceeding old, As in the sacred text it is enrold: Our parents first in Paradise began." John Taylor. "The rose was in rich bloom on Sharon's plain, When a young mother, with her first-born, thence Went up to Sion; for the boy was vow'd Unto the Temple service. By the hand She led him; and her silent soul the while, Oft as the dewy laughter of his eye Met her sweet serious glance, rejoic'd to think That aught so pure, so beautiful, was hers, To bring before her God." Hemans. In speaking of the origin of needlework it will be necessary to define accurately what we mean by the term "needlework;" or else, when we assert that Eve was the first sempstress, we may be taken to task by some critical antiquarian, because we may not be able precisely to prove that the frail and beautiful mother of mankind made use of a little weapon of polished steel, finely pointed at one end and bored at the other, and "warranted not to cut in the eye." Assuredly we do not mean to assert that she did use such an instrument; most probably--we would _almost_ venture to say most _certainly_--she did not. But then again the cynical critic would attack us:--"You say that Eve was the first professor of _needle_work, and yet you disclaim the use of a needle for her." No, good sir, we do not. Like other profound investigators and original commentators, we do not annihilate one hypothesis ere we are prepared with another, "ready cut and dried," to rise, like any fabled phoenix, on the ashes of its predecessor. It is not long since we were edified by a conversation which we heard, or rather overheard, between two sexagenarians--both well versed in antiquarian lore, and neither of them deficient in antiquarian tenacity of opinion--respecting some theory which one of them wanted to establish about some aborigines. The concluding remark of the conversation--and we opined that it might as well have formed the commencement--was-- "If you want to lay down _facts_, you must follow history; if you want to establish a system, it is quite easy to place the people where you like." So, if I wished to "establish a system," I could easily make Eve work with a "superfine drill-eyed needle:" but this is not my object. It seems most probable that Eve's first needle was a thorn: "Before man's fall the rose was born, St. Ambrose sayes, without the thorn; But, for man's fault, then was the thorn, Without the fragrant rosebud, born." Why thorns should spring up at the precise moment of the fall is difficult to account for in a world where everything has its use, except we suppose that they were meant for needles: and general analogy leads us to this conclusion; for in almost all existing records of people in what we are pleased to call a "savage" state, we find that women make use of this primitive instrument, or a fish-bone. "Avant l'invention des aiguilles d'acier, on a dû se servir, à leur défaut, d'épines, ou d'arêtes de poissons, ou d'os d'animaux." And as Eve's first specimen of needlework was certainly completed before the sacrifice of any living thing, we may safely infer that the latter implements were not familiar to her. The Cimbrian inhabitants of Britain passed their time in weaving baskets, or in sewing together for garments the skins of animals taken in the chase, while they used as needles for uniting these simple habiliments small bones of fish or animals rudely sharpened at one end; and needles just of the same sort were used by the inhabitants of the Sandwich Islands, when the celebrated Captain Cook first visited them. Proceed we to the material of the first needlework. "They sewed themselves fig-leaves together, and made themselves aprons." Thus the earliest historical record; and thus the most esteemed poetical commentator. "Those leaves They gather'd, broad as Amazonian targe, And, with what skill they had, together sew'd, To gird their waist." It is supposed that the leaves alluded to here were those of the banian-tree, of which the leaves, says Sir James Forbes, are large, soft, and of a lively green; the fruit a small bright scarlet fig. The Hindoos are peculiarly fond of this tree; they consider its long duration, its outstretching arms, and overshadowing beneficence, as emblems of the Deity, and almost pay it divine honours. The Brahmins, who thus "find a fane in every sacred grove," spend much of their time in religious solitude, under the shade of the banian-tree; they plant it near the dewals, or Hindoo temples; and in those villages where there is no structure for public worship, they place an image under one of these trees, and there perform morning and evening sacrifice. The size of some of these trees is stupendous. Sir James Forbes mentions one which has three hundred and fifty _large_ trunks, the smaller ones exceeding three thousand; and another, whereunder the chief of the neighbourhood used to encamp in magnificent style; having a saloon, dining room, drawing-room, bedchambers, bath, kitchen, and every other accommodation, all in separate tents; yet did this noble tree cover the whole, together with his carriages, horses, camels, guards, and attendants; while its spreading branches afforded shady spots for the tents of his friends, with their servants and cattle. And in the march of an army it has been known to shelter seven thousand men. Such is the banian-tree, the pride of Hindûstan: which Milton refers to as the one which served "our general mother" for her first essay in the art of needlework. "Both together went Into the thickest wood; there soon they chose The fig-tree; not that tree for fruit renown'd, But such as at this day, to Indians known, In Malabar or Deccan spreads her arms, Branching so broad and long, that in the ground The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow About the mother tree, a pillar'd shade High overarch'd, and echoing walks between: There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat, Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds At loopholes cut through thickest shade: Those leaves They gather'd, broad as Amazonian targe; And, with what skill they had, together sew'd, To gird their waist." Some of the most interesting incidents in Holy Writ turn on the occupation of needlework; slight sketches, nay, hardly so much, but mere touches which engage all the gentler, and purer, and holier emotions of our nature. For instance: the beloved child of the beautiful mother of Israel, for whom Jacob toiled fourteen years, which were but as one day for the love he bare her--this child, so eagerly coveted by his mother, so devotedly loved by his father, and who was destined hereafter to wield the destinies of such a mighty empire--had a token, a peculiar token, bestowed on him of his father's overwhelming love and affection. And what was it? "A coat of many colours;" probably including some not in general use, and obtained by an elaborate process. Entering himself into the minutiæ of a concern, which, however insignificant in itself, was valuable in his eyes as giving pleasure to his boy, the fond father selects pieces of various-coloured cloth, and sets female hands, the most expert of his household, to join them together in the form of a coat. But, alas! to whom should he intrust the task? She whose fingers would have revelled in it, Rachel the mother, was no more; her warm heart was cold, her busy fingers rested in the tomb. Would his sister, would Dinah execute the work? No; it was but too probable that she shared in the jealousy of her brothers. No matter. The father apportions the task to his handmaidens, and himself superintends the performance. With pleased eye he watches its progress, and with benignant smile he invests the happy and gratified child with the glowing raiment. This elaborate piece of work, the offering of paternal affection to please a darling child, was probably the simple and somewhat clumsy original of those which were afterwards embroidered and subsequently woven in various colours, and which came to be regarded as garments of dignity and appropriated to royalty; as it is said of Tamar that "she had a garment of divers colours upon her: for with such robes were the king's daughters that were virgins apparelled." It is even now customary in India to dress a favourite or beautiful child in a coat of various colours tastefully _sewed together_; and it may not perhaps be very absurd to refer even to so ancient an origin as Joseph's coat of many colours the superstition now prevalent in some countries, which teaches that a child clothed in a garment of many colours is safe from the blasting of malicious tongues or the machinations of evil spirits. In the Book of Samuel we read, "And Hannah his mother, made him a little coat." This seems a trivial incident enough, yet how interesting is the scene which this simple mention conjures up! With all the earnest fervour of that separated race who hoped each one to be the honoured instrument of bringing a Saviour into the world, Hannah, then childless, prayed that this reproach might be taken from her. Her prayer was heard, her son was born; and in holy gratitude she reared him, not for wealth, for fame, for worldly honour, or even for her own domestic comfort,--but, from his birth, and before his birth she devoted him as the servant of the Most High. She indulged herself with his presence only till her maternal cares had fitted him for duty; and then, with a tearful eye it might be, and a faltering footstep, but an unflinching resolution, she devoted him to the altar of her God. But never did his image leave her mind: never amid the fair scions which sprang up and bloomed around her hearth did her thoughts forsake her first-born; and yearly, when she went up to the Tabernacle with Elkanah her husband, did she take him "a little coat" which she had made. We may fancy her quiet happy thoughts when at this employment; we may fancy the eager earnest questionings of the little group by whom she was surrounded; the wondering about their absent brother; the anxious catechisings respecting his whereabouts; and, above all, the admiration of the new garment itself, and the earnest criticisms on it; especially if in form and fashion it should somewhat differ from their own. And then arrives the moment when the garment is committed to its envelope; and the mother, weeping to part from her little ones, yet longing to see her absent boy, receives their adieux and their thousand reminiscences, and sets forth on her journey. Again she treads the hallowed courts, again she meekly renews her vows, and again a mother's longings, a mother's hopes are quenched in the full enjoyment of a mother's love. Beautiful and good, the blessing of Heaven attending him, and throwing a beam of light on his fair brow, the pure and holy child appears like a seraph administering at that altar to which he had been consecrated a babe, and at which his ministry was sanctioned even by the voice of the Most High himself, when in the solemn stillness of midnight he breathed his wishes into the heart of the child, and made him, infant as he was, the medium of his communications to one grown hoary in the service of the altar. The solemn duties ended, Hannah invests her hopeful boy with the little coat, whilst her willing fingers lingeringly perform their office, as if loth to quit a task in which they so much delight. And then with meek step and grateful heart she wends her homeward way, and meditates tranquilly on the past interview, till the return of another year finds her again on her pilgrimage of love--the joyful bearer of another "little coat." And a high tribute is paid to needlework in the history of Dorcas, who was restored to life by the apostle St. Peter, by whom "all the widows stood weeping, and showing the coats and garments which Dorcas made while she was with them." "In these were read The monuments of Dorcas dead: These were thy acts, and thou shalt have These hung as honours o'er thy grave: And after us, distressed, Should fame be dumb, Thy very tomb Would cry out, Thou art blessed!" But it is not merely as an object of private and domestic utility that needlework is referred to in the Bible. It was applied early to the service of the Tabernacle, and the directions concerning it are very clear and specific; but before this time, and most probably as early as the time of Abraham, rich and valuable raiment of needlework was accounted of as part of the _bonâ fide_ property of a wealthy man. When the patriarch's steward sought Rebekah for the wife of Isaac, he "brought forth jewels of silver, and jewels of gold, and _raiment_." This "raiment" consisted, in all likelihood, of garments embroidered with gold, the handiwork, it may be, of the female slaves of the patriarch; such garments being in very great esteem from the earliest ages, and being then, as now, a component portion of those presents or offerings without which one personage hardly thought of approaching another. Fashion in those days was not quite the chameleon-hued creature that she is at present; nor were the fabrics on which her fancy was displayed quite so light and airy: their gold _was_ gold--not silk covered with gilded silver; and consequently the raiment of those days, inwrought with slips of gold beaten thin and cut into spangles or strips, and sewed on in various patterns, sometimes intermingled with precious stones, would carry its own intrinsic value with it. This "raiment" descended from father to son, as a chased goblet and a massy wrought urn does now; and was naturally and necessarily inventoried as a portion of the property. The practice of making presents of garments is still quite usual amongst the eastern nations; and to such an excess was it carried with regard to those who, from their calling or any other circumstance, were in public favour, that, so late as the ninth century, Bokteri, an illustrious poet of Cufah, had so many presents made him, that at his death he was found possessed of a hundred complete suits of clothes, two hundred shirts, and five hundred turbans. Horace, speaking of Lucullus (who had pillaged Asia, and first introduced Asiatic[4] refinements among the Romans), says that, some persons having waited on him to request the loan of a hundred suits out of his wardrobe for the Roman stage, he exclaimed--"A hundred suits! how is it possible for me to furnish such a number? However, I will look over them and send you what I have."--After some time he writes a note and tells them he had _five thousand_, to the whole or part of which they were welcome. In all the eastern world formerly, and to a great extent now, the arraying a person in a rich dress is considered a very high compliment, and it was one of the ancient modes of investing with the highest degree of subordinate power. Thus was Joseph arrayed by Pharaoh, and Mordecai by Ahasueras. We all remember what important effects are produced by splendid robes in "The Tale of the Wonderful Lamp," and in many other of those fascinating tales (which are allowed to be rigidly correct in the delineations of eastern life). They were doubtless esteemed the richest part of the spoil after a battle, as we find the mother of Sisera apportioning them as his share, and reiterating her delighted anticipations of the "raiment of needlework" which should be his: "a prey of divers colours, of divers colours of needlework, of divers colours of needlework on both sides, meet for the necks of them that take the spoil." Job has many allusions to raiment as an essential part of "treasures" in the East; and our Saviour refers to the same when he desires his hearers not to lay up for themselves "treasures" on earth, where _moth_ and rust corrupt. St. James even more explicitly: "Go to now, ye rich men; weep and howl for your miseries that shall come upon you. Your gold and silver is cankered, and your GARMENTS are moth-eaten." The first notice we have of gold-wire or thread being used in embroidery is in Exodus, in the directions given for the embroidery of the priests' garments: from this it appears that the metal was still used alone, being beaten fine and then rounded. This art the Hebrews probably learnt from the Egyptians, by whom it was carried to such an astonishing degree of nicety, that they could either weave it in or work it on their finest linen. And doubtless the productions of the Hebrews now must have equalled the most costly and intricate of those of Egypt. This the adornments of the Tabernacle testify. FOOTNOTE: [4] Persia had great wardrobes, where there were always many hundred habits, sorted, ready for presents, and the intendant of the wardrobe sent them to those persons for whom they were designed by the sovereign; more than forty tailors were always employed in this service. In Turkey they do not attend so much to the richness as to the number of the dresses, giving more or fewer according to the dignity of the persons to whom they are presented, or the marks of favour the prince would confer on his guests. CHAPTER III. NEEDLEWORK OF THE TABERNACLE. "The cedars wave on Lebanon, But Judah's statelier maids are gone." Byron. Gorgeous and magnificent must have been the spectacle presented by that ancient multitude of Israel, as they tabernacled in the wilderness of Sinai. These steril solitudes are now seldom trodden by the foot of man, and the adventurous traveller who toils up their rugged steeps can scarce picture to himself a host sojourning there, so wild, so barren is the place, so fearful are the precipices, so dismal the ravines. On the spot where "Moses talked with God" the grey and mouldering remnants of a convent attest the religious veneration and zeal of some of whom these ruins are the only memorial; and near them is a small chapel dedicated to the Virgin, while religious hands have crowned even the summit of the steep ascent by "a house of prayer;" and at the foot of the sister peak, Horeb, is an ancient Greek convent, founded by the Emperor Justinian 1400 years ago, which is occupied still by some harmless recluses, the monotony of whose lives is only broken by the few and far between visits of the adventurous traveller, or the more frequent and startling interruptions of the wild Arabs on their predatory expeditions. But neither church nor temple of any sort, nor inquiring traveller, nor prowling Arab, varied the tremendous grandeur of the scene, when the Israelitish host encamped there. Weary and toilsome had been the pilgrimage from the base of the mountain where the desolation was unrelieved by a trace of vegetation, to the upper country or wilderness, called more particularly, "the Desert of Sinai," where narrow intersecting valleys, not destitute of verdure, cherished perhaps the lofty and refreshing palm. Here in the ravines, in the valleys, and amid the clefts of the rocks, clustered the hosts of Israel, while around them on every side arose lofty summits and towering precipices, where the eye that sought to scan their fearful heights was lost in the far-off dimness. Far, far around, spread this savage wilderness, so frowning, and dreary, and desolate, that any curious explorer beyond the precincts of the camp would quickly return to the _home_ which its vicinity afforded even there. Clustered closely as bees in a hive were the tents of the wandering race, yet with an order and a uniformity which even the unpropitious nature of the locality was not permitted to break; for, separated into tribes, each one, though sufficiently connected for any object of kindness or brotherhood, for public worship, or social intercourse, was inalienably distinct. And in the midst, extending from east to west, a length of fifty-five feet, was reared the splendid Tabernacle. For God had said, "Let them make me a Sanctuary, that I may dwell among them;" and behold, "they came, both men and women, as many as were willing-hearted, and brought bracelets, and earrings, and rings, and tablets, all jewels of gold; and every man that offered, offered an offering of gold unto the Lord. And every man with whom was found blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine linen, and goats' hair, and red skins of rams, and badgers' skins, brought them. Every one that did offer an offering of silver and brass brought the Lord's offering: and every man with whom was found shittim-wood for any work of the service brought it. And all the women that were wise-hearted did spin with their hands, and brought that which they had spun, both of blue, and of purple, and of scarlet, and of fine linen. And all the women whose hearts stirred them up in wisdom spun goats' hair. And the rulers brought onyx-stones, and stones to be set, for the ephod, and for the breastplate; and spice, and oil for the light, and for the anointing oil, and for the sweet incense." And all these materials, which the "willing-hearted" offered in such abundance that proclamation was obliged to be made through the camp to stop their influx, had been wrought under the superintendence of Bezaleel and Aholiab, who were divinely inspired for the task; and the Tabernacle was now completed, with the exception of some of the finest needlework, which had not yet received the finishing touches. But what was already done bore ample testimony to the skill, the taste, and the industry of the "wise-hearted" daughters of Israel. The outer covering of the Tabernacle, or that which lay directly over the framework of boards of which it was constructed, and hung from the roof down the sides and west end, was formed of tabash skins; over this was another covering of ram-skins dyed red; a hanging made of goats' hair, such as is still used in the tents of the Bedouin Arabs, had been spun and woven by the matrons of the congregation, to hang over the skins; and these substantial draperies were beautifully concealed by a first or inner covering of fine linen. On this the more youthful women had embroidered figures of cherubim in scarlet, purple, and light blue, entwined with gold. They had made also sacerdotal vestments, the "coats of fine linen" worn by all the priests, which, when old, were unravelled, and made into wicks burnt in the feast of tabernacles. They had made the "girdles of needlework," which were long, very long pieces of fine twined linen (carried several times round the body), and were embroidered with flowers in blue, and purple, and scarlet: the "robe of the ephod" also for the high priest, of light blue, and elaborately wrought round the bottom in pomegranates; and the plain ephods for the priests. But now the sun was declining in the western sky, and the busy artificers of all sorts were relaxing from the toil of the day. In a retired spot, apart from the noise of the camp, paced one in solitary meditation. Stalwart he was in frame, majestic in bearing; he trod the earth like one of her princes; but the loftiness of his demeanour was forgotten when you looked on the surpassing benignity of his countenance. Each accidental passer hushed his footstep and lowered his voice as he approached; more, as it should seem, from involuntary awe and reverence than from any understood prohibition. But with some of these loiterers a child of some four or five summers, in earnest chase after a brilliant fly, whose golden wings glittered in the sunlight, heedlessly pursued it even to the very path of the Solitary, and to the interruption of his walk. Hastily, and somewhat peremptorily, the father calls him away. The stranger looks up, and casting a glance around, from an eye to whose brilliance that of the eagle would look dim, he for the first time sees the little intruder. Gently placing a hand on the child's head, "Bless thee," he said, in a voice whose every tone was melody: "Bless thee, little one; the blessing of the God of Israel be upon thee," and calmly resumed his walk. The child, as if awed, mutely returned to his friends, who, after casting a glance of reverence and admiration, returned to the camp. Here, scattered all around, are groups occupied in those varied kinds of busy idleness which will naturally engage the moments of an intelligent multitude at the close of an active day. Here a knot of men in the pride of manhood, whose flashing eyes have lost none of their fire, whose raven locks are yet not varied by a single silver line, are talking politics--such politics as the warlike men of Israel would talk, when discoursing of the promised land and the hostile hosts through whose serried ranks they must cut their intrepid way thither, and whom, impatient of all delay, they burn to engage. Here were elder ones, "whose natural force" was in some degree "abated," and who were lamenting the decree, however justly incurred, which forbade them to lay their bones in the land of their lifelong hope; and here was a patriarch, bowed down with the weight of years, whose silver hairs lay on his shoulders, whose snow-white beard flowed upon his breast, who as he leaned upon his staff was recounting to his rapt auditors the dealing of Jehovah with his people in ancient days; how the Most High visited his father Abraham, and had sworn unto Jacob that his seed should be brought out of captivity, and revisit the promised land. "And behold," said the old man, "it will now come to pass." But what is passing in that detached portion of the camp? who sojourn in yonder tents which attract more general attention than all the others, and in which all ages and degrees seem interested? Now a group of females are there, eagerly conversing; anon a Hebrew mother leads her youthful and beautiful daughter, and seems to incite her to remain there; now a hoary priest enters, and in a few moments returns pondering; and anon a trio of more youthful Levites with pleased and animated countenances return from the same spot. On a sudden is every eye turned thitherward; for he who just now paced the solitary glade--none other than the chosen leader of God's host, the majestic lawgiver, the meekest and the mightiest of all created beings--he likewise wends his way to these attractive tents. With him enters Aaron, a venerable man, with hoary beard and flowing white robes; and follow him a majestic-looking female who was wont to lead the solemn dance--Miriam the sister of Aaron; and a youth of heroic bearing, in the springtime of that life whose maturity was spent in leading the chosen race to conquest in the promised land. With proud and pleased humility did the fair inmates of those tents, the most accomplished of Israel's daughters, display to their illustrious visitors the "fine needlework" to which their time and talents had been for a long season devoted, and which was now on the eve of completion. The "holy garments" which God had commanded to be made "for glory and for beauty;" the pomegranates on the hem of the high priest's robe, wrought in blue and purple and scarlet; the flowers on his "girdle of needlework," glowing as in life; the border on the ephod, in which every varied colour was shaded off into a rich and delicate tracery of gold; and above all, that exquisite work, the most beautiful of all their productions--the veil which separated the "Holy of Holies," the place where the Most High vouchsafed his especial presence, where none but the high priest might presume to enter, and he but once a year, from the remaining portions of the Tabernacle. This beautiful hanging was of fine white linen, but the original fabric was hardly discernible amid the gorgeous tracery with which it was inwrought. The whole surface was covered with a profusion of flowers, intermixed with fanciful devices of every sort, except such as might represent the forms of animals--these were rigidly excluded. Cherubims seemed to be hovering around and grasping its gorgeous folds; and if tradition and history be to be credited, this drapery merited, if ever the production of the needle did merit, the epithet which English talent has since rendered classical, "_Needlework Sublime_." Long, despite the advancing shades of evening, would the visitors have lingered untired to comment upon this beautiful production, but one said, "Behold!" and immediately all, following the direction of his outstretched arm, looked towards the Tabernacle. There a thin spiral flame is seen to gleam palely through the pillar of smoke; but perceptibly it increases, and even while the eye is fixed it waxes stronger and brighter, and quickly though gradually the smoke has melted away, and a tall vivid flame of fire is in its place. Higher and taller it aspires: its spiral flame waxes broader and broader, ascends higher and higher, gleams brighter and brighter, till it mingles in the very vault of heaven, with the beams of the setting sun which bathe in crimson fire the summits of Sinai. In the eastern sky the stars gleam brightly in the pure transparent atmosphere; and ere long the moon casts pale radiant beams adown the dark ravines, and utters her wondrous lore to the silent hills and the gloomy waste. The sounds of toil are hushed; the weary labourer seeks repose; the toil-worn wanderer is at rest: the murmuring sounds of domestic life sink lower and lower; the breath of prayer becomes fainter and fainter; the voice of praise, the evensong of Israel, comes stealing through the calm of evening, and now dies softly away. Nought is heard but the password of the sentinels; the far-off shriek of the bat as it flaps its wings beneath the shadow of some fearful precipice; or the scream of the eagle, which, wheeling round the lofty summits of the mountain, closes in less and lesser circles, till, as the last faint gleam of evening is lost in the dark horizon, it drops into its eyrie. The moon and the stars keep their eternal watch; the beacon-light of God's immediate presence flames unchanged by time or chance. It may be that the appointed earthly shepherd of that chosen flock passes the still hours of night and solitude in communion with his God; but silence is over the wilderness, and the children of Israel are at rest. CHAPTER IV. NEEDLEWORK OF THE EGYPTIANS. "How is thy glory, Egypt, pass'd away! Weep, child of ruin, o'er thy humbled name! The wreck alone that marks thy deep decay Now tells the story of thy former fame!" There can be little doubt that the Jewish maidens were beholden to their residence in Egypt for that perfectness of finish in embroidery which was displayed so worthily in the service of the Tabernacle. Egypt was at this time the seat of science, of art, and learning; for it was thought the highest summary which could be given of Moses' acquirements to say that he was skilled in all the learning of the Egyptians. By the researches of the curious, new proofs are still being brought to light of the perfection of their skill in various arts, and we are not without testimony that the practice of the lighter and more ornamental bore progress with that of the stupendous and magnificent. Of these lighter pursuits we at present refer only to the art of needlework. The Egyptian women were treated with courtesy, with honour, and even with deference: indeed, some historians have gone so far as to say that the women transacted public business, to the exclusion of the men, who were engaged in domestic occupations. This misapprehension may have arisen from the fact of men being at times engaged at the loom, which in all other countries was then considered as exclusively a feminine occupation; spinning, however, was principally, if not entirely, confined to women, who had attained to such perfection in the pretty and valuable art, that, though the Egyptian yarn was all spun by the hand, some of the linen made from it was so exquisitely fine as to be called "woven air." And there are some instances recorded by historians which seem fully to bear out the appellation. For example: so delicate were the threads used for nets, that some of these nets would pass through a man's ring, and one person could carry a sufficient number of them to surround a whole wood. Amasis king of Egypt presented a linen corslet to the Rhodians of which the threads were each composed of 365 fibres; and he presented another to the Lacedemonians, richly wrought with gold; and each thread of this corslet, though itself very fine, was composed of 360 other threads all distinct. Nor did these beautiful manufactures lack the addition of equally beautiful needlework. Though the gold thread used at this time was, as we have intimated, solid metal, still the Egyptians had attained to such perfection in the art of moulding it, that it was fine enough not merely to embroider, but even to interweave with the linen. The linen corslet of Amasis, presented, as we have remarked, to the Lacedemonians, surpassingly fine as was the material, was worked with a needle in figures of animals in gold thread, and from the description given of the texture of the linen we may form some idea of the exquisite tenuity of the gold wire which was used to ornament it. Corslets of linen of a somewhat stronger texture than this one, which was doubtless meant for merely ornamental wear, were not uncommon amongst the ancients. The Greeks made thoraces of hide, hemp, linen, or twisted cord. Of the latter there are some curious specimens in the interesting museum of the United Service Club. Alexander had a double thorax of linen; and Iphicrates ordered his soldiers to lay aside their heavy metal cuirass, and go to battle in hempen armour. And among the arms painted in the tomb of Rameses III. at Thebes is a piece of defensive armour, a sort of coat or covering for the body, made of rich stuff, and richly embroidered with the figures of lions and other animals. The dress of the Egyptian ladies of rank was rich and somewhat gay: in its general appearance not very dissimilar from the gay chintzes of the present day, but of more value as the material was usually linen; and though sometimes stamped in patterns, and sometimes interwoven with gold threads, was much more usually worked with the needle. The richest and most elegant of these were of course selected to adorn the person of the queen; and when in the holy book the royal Psalmist is describing the dress of a bride, supposed to have been Pharaoh's daughter, and that she shall be brought to the king "in raiment of needlework," he says, as proof of the gorgeousness of her attire, "her clothing is of wrought gold." This is supposed to mean a garment richly embroidered with the needle in figures in gold thread, after the manner of Egyptian stitchery. Perhaps no royal lady was ever more magnificently dowered than the queen of Egypt; her apparel might well be gorgeous. Diodorus says that when Moeris, from whom the lake derived its name, and who was supposed to have made the canal, had arranged the sluices for the introduction of the water, and established everything connected with it, he assigned the sum annually derived from this source as a dowry to the queen for the purchase of jewels, ointments, and other objects connected with the toilette. The provision was certainly very liberal, being a talent every day, or upwards of £70,700 a year; and when this formed only a portion of the pin-money of the Egyptian queens, to whom the revenues of the city of Anthylla, famous for its wines, were given for their dress, it is certain they had no reason to complain of the allowance they enjoyed. The Egyptian needlewomen were not solely occupied in the decoration of their persons. The deities were robed in rich vestments, in the preparation of which the proudest in the land felt that they were worthily occupied. This was a source of great gain to the priests, both in this and other countries, as, after decorating the idol gods for a time, these rich offerings were their perquisites, who of course encouraged this notable sort of devotion. We are told that it was carried so far that some idols had both winter and summer garments. Tokens of friendship consisting of richly embroidered veils, handkerchiefs, &c., were then, as now, passing from one fair hand to another, as pledges of affection; and as the last holy office of love, the bereaved mother, the desolate widow, or the maiden whose budding hopes were blighted by her lover's untimely death, might find a fanciful relief to her sorrows by decorating the garment which was to enshroud the spiritless but undecaying form. The chief proportion of the mummy-cloths which have been so ruthlessly torn from these outraged relics of humanity are coarse; but some few have been found delicately and beautifully embroidered; and it is not unnatural to suppose that this difference was the result of feminine solicitude and undying affection. The embroidering of the sails of vessels too was pursued as an article of commerce, as well as for the decoration of native pleasure-boats. The ordinary sails were white; but the king and his grandees on all gala occasions made use of sails richly embroidered with the phoenix, with flowers, and various other emblems and fanciful devices. Many also were painted, and some interwoven in checks and stripes. The boats used in sacred festivals upon the Nile were decorated with appropriate symbols, according to the nature of the ceremony or the deity in whose service they were engaged; and the edges of the sails were finished with a coloured hem or border, which would occasionally be variegated with slight embroidery. Shakspeare's description of the barge of Cleopatra when she embarked on the river Cydnus to meet Antony, poetical as it is, seems to be rigidly correct in detail. Enobarbus.--I will tell you. The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that The winds were love-sick with them: the oars were silver; Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water, which they beat, to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, It beggar'd all description: she did lie In her pavilion (cloth of gold, of tissue), O'erpicturing that Venus, where we see The fancy outwork nature; on each side her Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, With diverse-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, And what they undid, did. Agrippa.-- O, rare for Antony! Enobarbus.--Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings; at the helm A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her; and Antony, Bethroned in the market-place, did sit alone, Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy, Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, And made a gap in nature. It is said that the silver oars, "which to the tune of flutes kept stroke," were pierced with holes of different sizes, so mechanically contrived, that the water, as it flowed through them at every stroke, produced a harmony in concord with that of the flutes and lyres on board. Such a description as the foregoing gives a more vivid idea than any grave declaration, of the elegant luxury of the Egyptians. It were easy to collect instances from the Bible in which mention is made of Egyptian embroidery, but one verse (Ezek. xxvii. 7), when the prophet is addressing the Tyrians, specifically points to the subject on which we are speaking: "Fine linen, with broidered work from Egypt, was that which thou spreadest forth to be thy sail," &c. A common but beautiful style of embroidery was to draw out entirely the threads of linen which formed the weft, and to re-form the body of the material, and vary its appearance, by working in various stitches and with different colours on the warp alone. Chairs and fauteuils of the most elegant form, made of ebony and other rare woods, inlaid with ivory, were in common use amongst the ancient Egyptians. These were covered, as is the fashion in the present day, with every variety of rich stuff, stamped leather, &c.: but many were likewise embroidered with different coloured wools, with silk and gold thread. The couches too, which in the daytime had a rich covering substituted for the night bedding, gave ample scope for the display of the inventive genius and persevering industry of the busy-fingered Egyptian ladies. We have given sufficient proof that the Egyptian females were accomplished in the art of needlework, and we may naturally infer that they were fond of it. It is a gentle and a social occupation, and usefully employs the time, whilst it does not interfere with the current of the thoughts or the flow of conversation. The Egyptians were an intelligent and an animated race; and the sprightly jest or the lively sally would be interspersed with the graver details of thoughtful and reflective conversation, or would give some point to the dull routine of mere womanish chatter. It seems almost impossible to have lived amidst the stupendous magnificence of Egypt in days of yore, without the mind assimilating itself in some degree to the greatness with which it was surrounded. The vast deserts, the stupendous mountains, the river Nile--the single and solitary river which in itself sufficed the needs of a mighty empire--these majestic monuments of nature seemed as emblems to which the people should fashion, as they did fashion, their pyramids, their tombs, their sphynxes, their mighty reservoirs, and their colossal statues. And we can hardly suppose that such ever-visible objects should not, during the time of their creation, have some elevating influence on the weakest mind; and that therefore frivolity of conversation amongst the Egyptian ladies was rather the exception than the rule. But a modern author has amused himself, and exercised some ingenuity in attempting to prove the contrary:-- "Many similar instances of a talent for caricature are observable in the compositions of Egyptian artists who executed the paintings on the tombs; and the ladies are not spared. We are led to infer that they were not deficient in the talent of conversation; and the numerous subjects they proposed are shown to have been examined with great animation. Among these the question of dress was not forgotten, and the patterns or the value of trinkets were discussed with proportionate interest. The maker of an earring, or the shop where it was purchased, were anxiously inquired; each compared the workmanship, the style, and the materials of those she wore, coveted her neighbour's, or preferred her own; and women of every class vied with each other in the display of 'jewels of silver and jewels of gold,' in the texture of their 'raiment,' the neatness of their sandals, and the arrangement or beauty of their plaited hair." We are too much indebted to this author's interesting volumes to quarrel with him for his ungallant exposition of a very simple painting; but we beg to place in juxta-position with the above (though otherwise somewhat out of its place) an extract from a work by no means characterised by unnecessary complacency to the fair sex. "'Cet homme passe sa vie à forger des nouvelles,' me dit alors un gros Athénien qui était assis auprès de moi. 'Il ne s'occupe que de choses qui ne le touchent point. Pour moi, mon intérieur me suffit. J'ai une femme que j'aime beaucoup;' et il me fit l'éloge de sa femme. 'Hier je ne pus pas souper avec elle, j'étais prié chez un de mes amis;' et il me fit la description du repas. 'Je me retirai chez moi assez content. Mais j'ai fait cette nuit un rêve qui m'inquiète;' et il me raconta son rêve. Ensuite il me dit pesamment que la ville fourmillait d'étrangers; que les hommes d'aujourd'hui ne valaient pas ceux d'autrefois; que les denrées étaient à bas prix; qu'on pourrait espérer une bonne récolte, s'il venait à pleuvoir. Après m'avoir demandé le quantième du mois, il se leva pour aller souper avec sa femme." CHAPTER V. NEEDLEWORK OF THE GREEKS AND ROMANS. "------Supreme Sits the virtuous housewife, The tender mother-- O'er the circle presiding, And prudently guiding; The girls gravely schooling, The boys wisely ruling; Her hands never ceasing From labours increasing; And doubling his gains With her orderly pains. With piles of rich treasure the storehouse she spreads, And winds round the loud-whirring spindle her threads: She winds--till the bright-polish'd presses are full Of the snow-white linen and glittering wool: Blends the brilliant and solid in constant endeavour, And resteth never." J. H. Merivale. It was an admitted opinion amongst the classical nations of antiquity, that no less a personage than Minerva herself, "a maiden affecting old fashions and formality," visited earth to teach her favourite nation the mysteries of those implements which are called "the arms of every virtuous woman;" viz. the distaff and spindle. In the use of these the Grecian dames were particularly skilled; in fact, spinning, weaving, needlework, and embroidery, formed the chief occupation of those whose rank exonerated them, even in more primitive days, from the menial drudgery of a household. The Greek females led exceedingly retired lives, being far more charily admitted to a share of the recreations of the nobler sex than we of these privileged days. The ancient Greeks were very magnificent--very: magnificent senators, magnificent warriors, magnificent men; but they were a people trained from the cradle for exhibition and publicity; domestic life was quite cast into the shade. Consequently and necessarily their women were thrown to greater distance, till it happened, naturally enough, that they seemed to form a distinct community; and apartments the most distant and secluded that the mansion afforded were usually assigned to them. Of these, in large establishments, certain ones were always appropriated to the labours of the needle. "Je ne dirai" (says the sarcastic author of Anacharsis) "qu'un mot sur l'éducation des filles. Suivant la différence des états, elles apprennent à lire, écrire, coudre, filer, préparer la laine dont on fait les vêtemens, et veiller aux soins du ménage. En général, les mères exhortent leurs filles à se conduire avec sagesse; mais elles insistent beaucoup plus sur la nécessité de se tenir droites, d'effacer leurs épaules, de serrer leur sein avec un large ruban, d'être extrêmement sobres, et de prévenir, par toutes sortes de moyens, un embonpoint qui nuirait à l'élégance de la taille et à la grâce des mouvemens." Homer, the great fountain of ancient lore, scarcely throughout his whole work names a female, Greek or Trojan, but as connected naturally and indissolubly with this feminine occupation--needlework. Thus, when Chryses implores permission to ransome his daughter, Agamemnon wrathfully replies-- "I will not loose thy daughter, till old age Find her far distant from her native soil, Beneath my roof in Argos, at her task Of tissue-work." And Iris, the "ambassadress of Heaven," finds Helen in her own recess-- "----weaving there a gorgeous web, Inwrought with fiery conflicts, for her sake Wag'd by contending nations." Hector foreseeing the miseries consequent upon the destruction of Troy, says to Andromache-- "But no grief So moves me as my grief for thee alone, Doom'd then to follow some imperious Greek, A weeping captive, to the distant shores Of Argos; there to labour at the loom For a taskmistress." And again he says to her-- "Hence, then, to our abode; there weave or spin, And task thy maidens." And afterwards-- "Andromache, the while, Knew nought, nor even by report had learn'd Her Hector's absence in the field alone. She in her chamber at the palace-top A splendid texture wrought, on either side All dazzling bright with flow'rs of various hues." Though "Penelope's web" is become a proverb, it would be unpardonable here to omit specific mention of it. Antinoüs thus complains of her:-- "Elusive of the bridal day, she gives Fond hope to all, and all with hope deceives. Did not the Sun, through heaven's wide azure roll'd, For three long years the royal fraud behold? While she, laborious in delusion, spread The spacious loom, and mix'd the various thread; Where, as to life the wondrous figures rise, Thus spoke th' inventive queen with artful sighs:-- 'Though cold in death Ulysses breathes no more, Cease yet a while to urge the bridal hour; Cease, till to great Laertes I bequeath A task of grief, his ornaments of death. Lest, when the Fates his royal ashes claim, The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame: When he, whom living mighty realms obey'd, Shall want in death a shroud to grace his shade.' Thus she: At once the generous train complies, Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue's fair disguise. The work she plied; but, studious of delay, By night revers'd the labours of the day. While thrice the Sun his annual journey made, The conscious lamp the midnight fraud survey'd; Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail; The fourth, her maid unfolds th' amazing tale. We saw, as unperceiv'd we took our stand, The backward labours of her faithless hand. Then urg'd, she perfects her illustrious toils; A wondrous monument of female wiles." The Greek costume was rich and elegant; and though, from our familiarity with colourless statues, we are apt to suppose it gravely uniform in its hue, such was not the fact; for the tunic was often adorned with ornamental embroidery of all sorts. The toga was the characteristic of Roman costume: this gradually assumed variations from its primitive simplicity of hue, until at length the triumphant general considered even the royal purple too unpretending, unless set off by a rich embroidery of gold. The first embroideries of the Romans were but bands of stuff, cut or twisted, which they put on the dresses: the more modest used only one band; others two, three, four, up to seven; and from the number of these the dresses took their names, always drawn from the Greek: molores, dilores, trilores, tetralores, &c. Pliny seems to be the authority whence most writers derive their accounts of ancient garments and needlework. "The coarse rough wool with the round great haire hath been of ancient time highly commended and accounted of in tapestrie worke: for even Homer himself witnesseth that they of the old world used the same much, and tooke great delight therein. But this tapestrie is set out with colours in France after one sort, and among the Parthians after another. M. Varro writeth that within the temple of Sangus there continued unto the time that he wrote his booke the wooll that lady Tanaquil, otherwise named Caia Cecilia, spun; together with her distaff and spindle: as also within the chapel of Fortune, the very roiall robe or mantle of estate, made in her own hands after the manner of water chamlot in wave worke, which Servius Tullius used to weare. And from hence came the fashion and custome at Rome, that when maidens were to be wedded, there attended upon them a distaffe, dressed and trimmed with kombed wooll, as also a spindle and yearne upon it. The said Tanaquil was the first that made the coat or cassocke woven right out all through; such as new beginners (namely young souldiers, barristers, and fresh brides) put on under their white plaine gowns, without any guard of purple. The waved water chamelot was from the beginning esteemed the richest and bravest wearing. And from thence came the branched damaske in broad workes. Fenestella writeth that in the latter time of Augustus Cæsar they began at Rome to use their gownes of cloth shorne, as also with a curled nap.--As for those robes which are called crebræ and papaveratæ, wrought thicke with floure worke, resembling poppies, or pressed even and smooth, they be of greater antiquitie: for even in the time of Lucilius the poet Torquatus was noted and reproved for wearing them. The long robes embrodered before, called prætextæ, were devised first by the Tuscanes. The Trabeæ were roiall robes, and I find that kings and princes only ware them. In Homer's time also they used garments embrodered with imagerie and floure, work, and from thence came the triumphant robes. As for embroderie itselfe and needle-worke, it was the Phrygians invention: and hereupon embroderers in Latine bee called phrygiones. And in the same Asia king Attalus was the first that devised cloth of gold: and thence come such colours to be called Attalica. In Babylon they used much to weave their cloth of divers colours, and this was a great wearing amongst them, and cloths so wrought were called Babylonica. To weave cloth of tissue with twisted threeds both in woofe and warpe, and the same of sundrie colours, was the invention of Alexandria; and such clothes and garments were called Polymita, But Fraunce devised the scutchion, square, or lozenge damaske worke. Metellus Scipio, among other challenges and imputations laid against Capito, reproached and accused him for this:--'That his hangings and furniture of his dining chamber, being Babylonian work or cloth of Arras, were sold for 800,000 sesterces; and such like of late days stood Prince Nero in 400,000 sesterces, _i.e._ forty millions.' The embrodered long robes of Servius Tullius, wherewith he covered and arraied all over the image of Fortune, by him dedicated, remained whole and sound until the end of Sejanus. And a wonder it was that they neither fell from the image nor were motheaten in 560 yeares."[5] It was long before silk was in general use, even for patrician garments. It has been supposed that the famous Median vest, invented by Semiramis, was silken, which might account for its great fame in the west. Be this as it may, it was so very graceful, that the Medes adopted it after they had conquered Asia; and the Persians followed their example. In the time of the Romans the price of silk was weight for weight with gold, and the first persons who brought silk into Europe were the Greeks of Alexander's army. Under Tiberius it was forbidden to be worn by men; and it is said that the Emperor Aurelian even refused the earnest request of his empress for a silken dress, on the plea of its extravagant cost. Heliogabalus was the first man that ever wore a robe entirely of silk. He had also a tunic woven of gold threads; such gold thread as we referred to in a prior chapter, as consisting of the metal alone beaten out and rounded, without any intermixture of silk or woollen. Tarquinius Priscus had also a vest of this gorgeous description, as had likewise Agrippina. Gold thread and wire continued to be made entirely of metal probably until the time of Aurelian, nor have there been any instances found in Herculaneum and Pompeii of the silken thread with a gold coating. These examples will suffice to show that it was not usually the _material_ of the ancient garments which gave them so high a value, but the ornamental embellishments with which they were afterwards invested by the needle. The Medes and Babylonians seem to have been most highly celebrated for their stuffs and tapestries of various sorts which were figured by the needle; the Egyptians certainly rivalled, though they did not surpass them; and the Greeks seem also to have attained a high degree of excellence in this pretty art. The epoch of embroidery amongst the Romans went as far back as Tarquin, to whom the Etruscans presented a tunic of purple enriched with gold, and a mantle of purple and other colours, "tels qu'en portoient les rois de Perse et de Lydie." But soon luxury banished the wonted austerity of Rome; and when Cæsar first showed himself in a habit embroidered and fringed, this innovation appeared scandalous to those who had not been alarmed at any of his real and important innovations. We have referred in a former chapter to the practice of sending garments as presents, as marks of respect and friendship, or as propitiatory or deprecatory offerings. And the illustrious ladies of the classical times had such a prophetical talent of preparation, that they were ever found possessed, when occasion required, of store of garments richly embroidered by their own fair fingers, or under their auspices. Of this there are numerous examples in Homer. When Priam wishes to redeem the body of Hector, after preparing other propitiatory gifts, "----he open'd wide the sculptur'd lids Of various chests, whence mantles twelve he took Of texture beautiful; twelve single cloaks; As many carpets, with as many robes; To which he added vests an equal store." When Telemachus is about to leave Menelaus-- "The beauteous queen revolv'd with careful eyes Her various textures of unnumber'd dyes, And chose the largest; with no vulgar art Her own fair hands embroider'd every part; Beneath the rest it lay divinely bright, Like radiant Hesper o'er the gems of night." That much of this work was highly beautiful may be inferred from the description of the robe of Ulysses:-- "In the rich woof a hound, Mosaic drawn, Bore on full stretch, and seiz'd a dappled fawn; Deep in the neck his fangs indent their hold; They pant and struggle in the moving gold." And this robe, Penelope says, "In happier hours her artful hand employ'd." To invest a visitor with an embroidered robe was considered the very highest mark of honour and regard. When Telemachus is at the magnificent court of Menelaus-- "----a bright damsel train attend the guests With liquid odours and _embroider'd vests_." * * * * * "Give to the stranger guest a stranger's dues: Bring gold, a pledge of love; a talent bring, A _vest_, a _robe_." * * * * * "--------in order roll'd The robes, the vests are rang'd, and heaps of gold: And adding _a rich dress inwrought with art_, A gift expressive of her bounteous heart, Thus spoke (the queen) to Ithacus." When Cambyses wished to attain some point from an Ethiopian prince, he forwarded, amongst other presents, a rich vest. The Ethiopian, taking the garment, inquired what it was, and how it was made; but its glittering tracery did not decoy the unsophisticated prince. When Xerxes arrived at Acanthos, he interchanged the rites of hospitality with the people, and presented several with Median vests. Probably our readers will remember the circumstance of Alexander making the mother of Darius a present of some rich vestures, probably of woollen fabrics, and telling her that she might make her grandchildren learn the art of weaving them; at which the royal lady felt insulted and deeply hurt, as it was considered ignominious by the Persian women to work in wool. Hearing of her misapprehension, Alexander himself waited on her, and in the gentlest and most respectful terms told the illustrious captive that, far from meaning any offence, the custom of his own country had misled him; and that the vestments he had offered were not only a present from his royal sisters, but wrought by their own hands. Outré as appear some of the flaring patterns of the present day, the boldest of them must be _quiet_ and unattractive compared with those we read of formerly, when not only human figures, but birds and animals, were wrought not merely on hangings and carpets but on wearing apparel. Ciampini gives various instances.[6] What changes, says he, do not a long course of years produce! Who now, except in the theatre, or at a carnival or masquerade (spectaculis ac rebus ludiciis), would endure garments inscribed with verses and titles, and painted with various figures? Nevertheless, it is plain that such garments were constantly used in ancient times. To say nothing of Homer, who assigns to Ulysses a tunic variegated with figures of animals; to say nothing of the Massagetæ, whom Herodotus relates painted animals on their garments with the juice of herbs; we also read of these garments (though then considered very antiquated) being used under the Cæsars of Rome. They say that Alcisthenes the Sybarite had a garment of such magnificence that when he exhibited it in the Temple of Juno at Lacinium, where all Italy was congregated, it attracted universal attention. It was purchased from the Carthaginians, by Dionysius the elder, for 120 talents. It was twenty-two feet in breadth, of a purple ground, with animals wrought all over, except in the middle, where were Jupiter, Juno, Themis, Minerva, Apollo, Venus: on one sleeve it had a figure of Alcisthenes, on the other of his city Sybaris. That this description is not exaggerated may be inferred from the following passage from a homily on Dives and Lazarus by a Bishop of Amuasan in Pontus, given by Ciampini. "They have here no bounds to this foolish art, for no sooner was invented the useless art of weaving in figures in a kind of picture, such as animals of all sorts, than (rich persons) procure flowered garments, and also those variegated with an infinite number of images, both for themselves, their wives, and children. . . . . . . Whensoever thus clothed they go abroad, they go, as it were, painted all over, and pointing out to one another with the finger the pictures on their garments. "For there are lions and panthers, and bears and bulls, and dogs and woods, and rocks and huntsmen; and, in a word, everything that can be thought of, all drawn to the life: for it was necessary, forsooth, that not only the walls of their houses should be painted, but their coats (tunica) also, and likewise the cloak (pallium) which covers it. "The more pious of these gentry take their subjects from the Gospel history: _e.g._ Christ himself with his disciples, or one of the miracles, is depicted. In this manner you shall see the marriage of Cana and the waterpots; the paralytic carrying his bed on his shoulders; the blind man cured by clay; the woman with the issue of blood taking hold of the border (of Christ's garment); the harlot falling at the feet of Jesus; Lazarus coming from the tomb: and they fancy there is great piety in all this, and that putting on such garments must be pleasing to God." The palmated garment was figured with palm-leaves, and was a triumphal or festive garment. It is referred to in an epistle of Gratian to Augustus: "I have sent thee a palmated garment, in which the name of our divine parent Constantine is interwoven." In allusion to these lettered garments Ausonius celebrates Sabina (textrice simul ac poetria), whose name thus lives when those of more important personages are forgotten:-- They who both webs and verses weave, The first to thee, O chaste Minerva, leave; The latter to the Muses they devote: To me, Sabina, it appears a sin To separate two things so near akin, So I have wrote thy verses on my coat.[7] And again: Whether the Tyrian robe your praise demand, Or the neat verse upon the edge descried, Know both proceed from the same skilful hand: In both these arts Sabina takes a pride.[8] It is imagined that the embroidered vestments worn in Homer's time bore a strong resemblance to those now worn by the Moguls; and the custom of making presents, so discernible through his work, still prevails throughout Asia. It is not (says Sir James Forbes) so much the custom in India to present dresses ready made to the visitors as to offer the materials, especially to Europeans. In Turkey, Persia, and Arabia, it is generally the reverse. We find in Chardin that the kings of Persia had great wardrobes, where there were always many hundred habits, sorted, ready for presents, and that more than forty tailors were always employed in this service. It is not improbable that this ancient custom of presenting a visitor with a new dress as a token of welcome, a symbol of rejoicing at his presence, may have led to many of the general customs which have prevailed, and do still, of having new clothes at any season of joy or festivity. New clothes are thought by the people of the East _requisite_ for the due solemnization of a time of rejoicing. The Turks, even the poorest of them, would submit to any privation rather than be without new clothes at the Bairam or Great Festival. There is an anecdote recorded of the Caliph Montanser Billah, that going one day to the upper roof of his palace he saw a number of clothes spread out on the flat roofs of the houses of Bagdat. He asked the reason, and was told that the inhabitants of Bagdat were drying their clothes, which they had newly washed, on account of the approach of the Bairam. The caliph was so concerned that any should be so poor as to be obliged to wash their old clothes for want of new ones with which to celebrate this festival, that he ordered a great quantity of gold to be instantly made into bullets, proper to be shot out of crossbows, which he and his courtiers threw, by this means, upon every terrace of the city where he saw garments spread to dry. FOOTNOTES: [5] Book viii. chap. 48. [6] Ciampini, Vetera Monimenta, cap. xiii. [7] "Licia qui texunt, et Carmina; Carmina Musis, Licia contribuunt, casta Minerva, tibi. Ast ego rem sociam non dissociabo, Sabina, Versibus inscripsi, quæ mea texta meis." [8] "Sive probas Tyrio textam sub tegmine vestem, Seu placet inscripti commoditas tituli. Ipsius hæc Dominæ concennat utrumque venustas: Has geminas artes una Sabina colet." CHAPTER VI. THE DARK AGES.--"SHEE-SCHOOLS." "There was an auncient house not far away, Renown'd throughout the world for sacred lore And pure unspotted life: so well they say It govern'd was, and guided evermore Through wisedome of a matrone grave and hore, Whose onely joy was to relieve the needes Of wretched soules, and helpe the helplesse pore: All night she spent in bidding of her bedes, And all the day in doing good and godly dedes." Faerie Queene. "Meantime, whilst monks' _pens_ were thus employed, nuns with their _needles_ wrote histories also: that of _Christ his passion_ for their altar-clothes; and other Scripture- (and more legend-) stories in hangings to adorn their houses."--Fuller, Ch. Hist., B. 6. Needlework is an art so indissolubly connected with the convenience and comfort of mankind at large, that it is impossible to suppose any state of society in which it has not existed. Its modes varied, of course, according to the lesser or greater degrees of refinement in other matters with which it was connected; and when we find from Muratori that "nulla s'è detto fin qui dell'Arte del Tessere dopo la declinazione del Romano Imperio; e solo in fuggire s'è parlato di alcune vesti degli antichi," we may fairly infer that the _ornamental_ needlework of the time was not extensively encouraged, although never entirely laid aside. The desolation that overran the world was found alike in its greatest or most insignificant concerns; and the same torrent that swept monarchs from their thrones and peers from their halls did away with the necessity for professors of the decorative arts. There needed not the embroiderer of gold and purple to blazon the triumph of a conqueror who disdained other habiliment than the skin of some slaughtered beast.[9] The matron who yet retained the principle of Roman virtue, or the fair and refined maiden of the eastern capital, far from seeking personal adornment, rather shunned any decoration which might attract the eyes and inflame the passions of untamed and ruthless conquerors. All usual habits were subverted, and for long years the history of the European world is but a bloody record of war and tumult, of bloodshed and strife. Few are the cases of peace and tranquillity in this desert of tumult and blood-guiltiness; but those few "isles of the blessed" in this ocean of discord, those few sunny spots in the gloomy landscape, are intimately connected with our theme. The use of the needle for the daily necessities of life could never, as we have remarked, be superseded; but the practice of ornamental needlework, in common with every ennobling science and improving art, was kept alive during this period of desolation by the church, and by the individual labours and collective zeal of the despised and contemned monks. Sharing that hallowed influence which hovered over and protected the church at this fearful season--for, from the carelessness or superstition of the barbarians, the ministers of religion were spared--nunneries, with some few exceptions, were now like refuges pointed out by Heaven itself. They were originally founded by the sister of St. Anthony, the hermit of the Egyptian desert, and in their primitive institution were meant solely for those who, abjuring the world for religious motives, were desirous to spend their whole time in devotional exercises. But their sphere of utility became afterwards widely extended. They became safe and peaceable asylums for all those to whom life's pilgrimage had been too thorny. The frail but repentant maiden was here sheltered from the scorn of an uncharitable world; the virtuous but suffering female, whose earthly hopes had, from whatever cause, been crushed, could here weep and pray in peace: while she to whom the more tangible trouble of poverty had descended might here, without the galling yoke of charity and dependence, look to a refuge for those evil days when the breaking of the golden bowl, the loosing of the silver cord, should disable her from the exertions necessary for her maintenance. Have we any--ay, with all their faults and imperfections on their heads--have we, in these days of enlightenment, any sort of substitute for the blessings they held out to dependent and suffering woman of whatever rank? Convents became also schools for the education of young women of rank, who here imbibed in early youth principles of religion which might enable them to endure with patience and fortitude those after-trials of life from which no station or wealth could exempt them; and they acquired here those accomplishments, and were taught here those lighter occupations, amongst which fine needlework and embroidery occupied a conspicuous position, which would qualify them to beguile in a becoming manner the many hours of leisure which their elevated rank would confer on them. "Nunneries," says Fuller, "also were good shee-schools, wherein the girles and maids of the neighbourhood were taught to read and work; and sometimes a little Latine was taught them therein. Yea, give me leave to say, if such feminine foundations had still continued, provided no _vow_ were obtruded upon them (virginity is least kept where it is most constrained), haply the weaker sex (besides the avoiding modern inconveniences) might be heightened to an higher perfection than hitherto hath been attained. That sharpnesse of their wits and suddenness of their conceits (which their enemies must allow unto them) might by education be improved into a judicious solidity, and that adorned with arts which now they want, not because they cannot learn, but are not taught them. I say, if such feminine foundations were extant now of dayes, haply some virgins of highest birth would be glad of such places, and I am sure their fathers and elder brothers would not be sorry for the same." Miss Lawrance gives a more detailed account of the duties taught in them. "In consequence of convents being considered as establishments exclusively belonging to the Latin church, Protestant writers, as by common consent, have joined in censuring them, forgetful of the many benefits which, without any reference to their peculiar creed, they were calculated to confer. Although providing instruction for the young, the convent was a large establishment for various orders of women. There were the nuns, the lay sisters, always a numerous class, and a large body of domestics; while in those higher convents, where the abbess exercised manorial jurisdiction, there were seneschal, esquires, gentlemen, yeomen, grooms, indeed the whole establishment of a baronial castle, except the men-at-arms and the archer-band. Thus within the convent walls the pupil saw nearly the same domestic arrangement to which she had been accustomed in her father's castle; while, instead of being constantly surrounded with children, well born and intelligent women might be her occasional companions. And then the most important functions were exercised by women. The abbess presided in her manorial court, the cellaress performed the extensive offices of steward, the præcentrix led the singing and superintended the library, and the infirmaress watched over the sick, affording them alike spiritual and medical aid. Thus, from her first admission, the pupil was taught to respect and to emulate the talents of women. But a yet more important peculiarity did the convent school present. It was a noble, a well-endowed, and an independent institution; and it proffered education as a boon. Here was no eager canvassing for scholars, no promises of unattainable advantages; for the convent school was not a mercantile establishment, nor was education a trade. The female teachers of the middle ages were looked up to alike by parent and child, and the instruction so willingly offered was willingly and gratefully received; the character of the teacher was elevated, and as a necessary consequence so was the character of the pupil." But in addition to those inmates who had dedicated their lives to religion, and those who were placed there specifically for education, convents afforded shelter to numbers who sought only temporary retirement from the world under the influence of sorrow, or temporary protection under the apprehension of danger. And this was the case not merely through the very dark era with which our chapter commences, but for centuries afterwards, and when the world was comparatively civilized. Our own "good Queen Maude" assumed the veil in the convent of Romsey, without however taking the vows, as the only means of escaping from a forced marriage; and in the subsequent reign, that of Stephen, so little regard was paid to law or decorum, that a convent was the only place where a maiden, even of gentle birth, if she had riches, could have a chance of shelter and safety from the machinations of those who resorted to any sort of brutality or violence to compel her to a marriage which would secure her possessions to her ravisher. It was then in the convents, and in them alone, that, during the barbarism and confusion consequent upon the overthrow of the ancient empire, and the irruption of the untamed hordes who overran southern Europe from the north and west,--it was in the convents that some remnants of the ancient art of embroidery were still preserved. The nuns considered it an acceptable service to employ their time and talents in the construction of vestments which, being intended for the service of the church, were rich and sumptuous even at the time when richness and elegance of apparel were unknown elsewhere.[10] It was no proof of either the ignorance or the bad taste or the irreligion of the "_dark_" ages, that the religious edifices were fitted up with a rich and gorgeous solemnity which are unheard of in these days of light and knowledge and economy. And besides the construction of rich and elaborately ornamented vestments for the priests, and hangings for the altars, shrines, &c., besides these being peculiarly the occupation of the professed sisters of religious houses, it was likewise the pride and the delight of ladies of rank to devote both their money to the purchase and their time to the embroidering of sacerdotal garments as offerings to the church. And whether temporarily sheltering within the walls of a convent, or happily presiding in her own lofty halls, it was oftentime the pride and pleasure of the high-born dame to embroider a splendid cope, a rich vest, or a gorgeous hanging, as a votive and grateful offering to that holy altar where perhaps she had prayed in sorrow, and found consolation and peace. FOOTNOTES: [9] "In the most inclement winter the hardy German was satisfied with a scanty garment made of the skin of some animal."--Gibbon. [10] Muratori (Diss. 25), speaking of the mean habiliments usual in Italy even so late as the 13th century, adds, "Ma non per questo s'hanno a credere così rozzi e nemici del Lusso que' Secoli. A buon conto anche in Italia qui non era cieco, sovente potea mirare i più delicati lavori di Seta, che _servivano di ornamenti alle Chiese e alle sacre funzioni_." CHAPTER VII. NEEDLEWORK OF THE DARK AGES. "Last night I dreamt a dream; behold! I saw a church was fret with gold, With arras richly dight: There saw I altar, pall, and pix, Chalice, and font, and crucifix, And tapers burning bright." W. S. Rose. Over those memorials of the past which chance and mischance have left us, time hath drawn a thick curtain, obliterating all soft and gentle touches, which connected harmoniously the bolder features of the landscape, and leaving these but as landmarks to intimate what had been there. We would fain linger on those times, and call up the gentle spirits of the long departed to describe scenes of quiet but useful retirement at which we now only dimly guess. We would witness the hour of recreation in the convent, when the severer duties of the cloister gave place to the cheerful one of companionship; and the "pale votary" quitted the lonely cell and the solitary vigil, to instruct the blooming novice in the art of embroidery, or to ply her own accustomed and accomplished fingers in its fairy creations. The younger ones would be ecstatic in their commendations, and eager in their exertions to rival the fair sempstress; whilst a gratified though sad smile would brighten her own pale cheek as the lady abbess laid aside the richly illuminated volume by which her own attention had been engrossed, and from which she had from time to time read short and instructive passages aloud, commenting on and enforcing the principles they inculcated; and holding the work towards the casement, so that the bright slanting rays of the setting sun which fell through the richly carved lattice might illumine the varied tints of the stitchery, she would utter some kind and encouraging words of admiration and praise. Perhaps the work was a broidered scarf for some spiritual father, a testimony of gratitude and esteem from the convent at large; perhaps it was a tunic or a girdle which some high and wealthy lady had bespoken for an offering, and which the meek and pious sisterhood were happy to do for hire, bestowing the proceeds on the necessities of the convent; or, if those were provided, on charity. Perhaps it was a pair of sandals, so magnificently wrought as to be destined as a present by some lofty abbot to the pope himself, like those which Robert, Abbot of St. Alban's, sent to the Pope Adrian the Fourth; and which alone, out of a multitude of the richest offerings, the pope retained;[11] or if it were in England (for our domestic scene will apply to all the Christian world) it might be a magnificent covering for the high altar, with a scripture history embroidered in the centre, and the border, of regal purple, inwrought with gold and precious stones. We say, _if in England_, because so celebrated was the English work, the Opus Anglicum,[12] that other nations eagerly desired to possess it. The embroidered vestments of some English clergymen were so much admired at the Papal Court, that the Pope, asking where they had been made, and being told "in England," despatched bulls to several English abbots, commanding them to procure similar ones for him. Some of the vestments of these days were almost covered with gold and precious stones. Or it might be a magnificent pall, in the days in which this garment had lost its primitive character, that taxed the skill and the patience of the fair needlewoman. It was about the year A.D. 601 that Pope Gregory sent two archbishop's palls into England; the one for London, which see was afterwards removed to Canterbury, and the other to York. Fuller gives the following account of this garment primitively:-- "The pall is a pontificall vestment, considerable for the matter, making, and mysteries thereof. For the matter, it is made of lamb's-wooll and superstition. I say, _of lamb's-wooll, as it comes from the sheep's back, without any other artificiall colour_, spun (say some) by a peculiar order of nunnes, _first cast into the tombe of St. Peter_, taken from his body (say others); surely most sacred if from both; and (superstitiously) adorned with little black crosses. For the form thereof, the _breadth exceeded not three fingers_ (one of our bachelor's lamb-skin hoods in Cambridge would make three of them), _having two labells hanging down before and behind_, which the archbishops onely, when going to the altar, put about their necks, above their other pontificall ornaments. Three mysteries were couched therein. First, humility, which beautifies the clergy above all their costly copes; secondly, innocency, to imitate lamb-like simplicitie; and thirdly, industry, to follow him who fetched his wandering sheep home on his shoulders. But to speak plainly, the mystery of mysteries in this pall was, that the archbishops receiving it showed therein their dependence on Rome; and a mote in this manner ceremoniously taken was a sufficient acknowledgment of their subjection. And, as it owned Rome's power, so in after ages it increased their profit. For, though now such palls were freely given to archbishops, whose places in Britain for the present were rather cumbersome than commodious, having little more than their paines for their labour; yet in after ages the archbishop of Canterburie's pall was sold for five thousand florenes:[13] so that the Pope might well have the Golden Fleece, if he could sell all his lamb's-wooll at that rate."[14] The accounts of the rich embroidered ecclesiastical vestments--robes, sandals, girdles, tunics, vests, palls, cloaks, altar-cloths, and veils or hangings of various descriptions, common in churches in the dark ages--would almost surpass belief, if the minuteness with which they are enumerated in some few ancient authors did not attest the fact. Still these in the most diffuse writers are a mere catalogue of church properties, and, as such, would, in the dry detail, be but little interesting to our readers. There is enough said of them, however, to attest their variety, their beauty, their magnificence; and to impress one with a very favourable idea of the female ingenuity and perseverance of those days. The cost of many of these garments was enormous, for pearls and precious jewels were literally interwrought, and the time and labour bestowed on them was almost incredible. It was no uncommon circumstance for three years to be spent even by these assiduous and indefatigable votaries of the needle on one garment. But it is only casually, in the pages of the antiquarian, that there is any record of them:-- "With their names No bard embalms and sanctifies his song: And history, so warm on meaner themes, Is cold on this." "Noi" (says Muratori) "che ammiriamo, e con ragione, la beltà e varietà di tante drapperie dei nostri tempi, abbiam nondimeno da confessare un obbligo non lieve agli antichi, che ci hanno prima spianata la via, e senza i lumi loro non potremmo oggidì vantare un sì gran progresso nell'Arti." And that this was the case a few instances may suffice to show; and it may not be quite out of place here to refer to one out of a thousand articles of value and beauty which were lost in the great conflagration ("which so cruelly laid waste the habitations of the servants of God") of the doomed and often suffering, but always magnificent, Croyland Abbey. It was "that beautiful and costly sphere, most curiously constructed of different metals, according to the different planets. Saturn was of copper, Jupiter of gold, Mars of iron, the Sun of brass, Mercury of amber, Venus of tin, and the Moon of silver: the colours of all the signs of the Zodiac had their several figures and colours variously finished, and adorned with such a mixture of precious stones and metals as amused the eye, while it informed the mind of every beholder. Such another sphere was not known or heard of in England; and it was a present from the King of France." No insignificant proof this of the mechanical skill of the eleventh century. We are told that Pope Eutychianus, who lived in the reign of the Emperor Aurelian, buried in different places 342 martyrs with his own hands; and he ordained that a faithful martyr should on no account be interred without a dalmatic robe or a purple colobio. This is perhaps one of the earliest notices of ecclesiastical pomp or pride in vestments. But some forty years afterwards Pope Silvester was invested by the hands of his attendants with a Phrygian robe of snowy white, on which was traced in sparkling threads by busy female hands the resurrection of our Lord; and so magnificent was this garment considered that it was ordained to be worn by his successors on state occasions: and to pass at once to the seventh century, there are records of various church hangings which had become injured by old age being carefully repaired at considerable expense; which expense and trouble would not, we may fairly infer, have been incurred if the articles in question, even at this more advanced period, had not been considered of value and of beauty. Leo the Third, in the eighth century, was a magnificent benefactor to the church. With the vessels of rich plate and jewels of various descriptions which were in all ages offering to the church we have nothing to do: amongst various other vestments, Leo gave to the high altar of the blessed Peter, the Prince of the Apostles, a covering spangled with gold (_chrysoclabam_) and adorned with precious stones; having the histories both of our Saviour giving to the blessed Apostle Peter the power of binding and loosing, and also representing the suffering of Peter, the Prince of the Apostles, and Paul. It was of great size, and exhibited on St. Peter and St. Paul's days.[15] Pope Paschal, early in the ninth century, had some magnificent garments wrought, which he presented to different churches. One of these was an altar-cloth of Tyrian purple, having in the middle a picture of golden emblems, with the countenance of our Lord, and of the blessed martyrs Cosman and Damian, with three other brothers. The cross was wrought in gold, and had round it a border of olive-leaves most beautifully worked. Another had golden emblems, with our Saviour, surrounded with archangels and apostles, of wonderful beauty and richness, being ornamented with pearls. In these ages robes and hangings with crimson or purple borders, called _blatta_, from the name of the insect from which the dye was obtained, were much in use. An insect, supposed to be the one so often referred to by this name in the writings of the ancients, is found now on the coasts of Guayaquil and Guatima. The dye is very beautiful, and is easily transferred. The royal purple so much esteemed of old was of very different shades, for the terms purple, red, crimson, scarlet, are often used indiscriminately; and a pretty correct conception may be acquired of the value of this imperial tint formerly from the circumstance that, when Alexander took possession of the city of Susa and of its enormous treasures, among other things there were found five thousand quintals of Hermione purple, the finest in the world, which had been treasured up there during the space of 190 years; notwithstanding which, its beauty and lustre were no way diminished. Some idea may be formed of the prodigious value of this store from the fact that this purple was sold at the rate of 100 crowns a pound, and the quintal is a hundredweight of Paris. Pope Paschal had a robe worked with gold and gems, having the history of the Virgins with lighted torches beautifully related: he had another of Byzantine scarlet with a worked border of olive-leaves. This was a very usual decoration of ecclesiastical robes, and a very suitable one; for, from the time when in the beak of Noah's dove it was first an emblem of comfort, it has ever, in all ages, in all nations, at all times, been symbolical of plenty and peace. This pope had also a robe of woven gold, worn over a cassock of scarlet silk; a dress certainly worth the naming, though not so much as others indebted to our useful little implement which Cowper calls the "threaded steel." But he had another rich and peculiar garment, which was entirely indebted to the needlewoman for its varied and radiant hues. This was a robe of an amber colour,[16] _having peacocks_. Pope Leo the Fourth had a hanging worked with the needle, having the portrait of a man seated upon a peacock. Pope Stefano the Fifth had four magnificent hangings for the great altar, one of which was wrought in peacocks. We find in romance that there was a high emblematical value attached to peacocks; not so high, however, as to prevent our ancestors from eating them; but it is difficult to account for their being so frequently introduced in designs professedly religious. In romance and chivalry they were supereminent. "To mention the peacock (says M. Le Grand) is to write its panegyrick." Many noble families bore the peacock as their crest; and in the Provençal Courts of Love the successful poet was crowned with a wreath formed of them. The coronation present given to the Queen of our Henry the Third, by her sister, the Queen of France, was a large silver peacock, whose train was set with sapphires and pearls, and other precious jewels, wrought with silver. This elegant piece of jewellery was used as a reservoir for sweet waters, which were forced out of its beak into a basin of white silver chased. As the knights associated these birds with all their ideas of fame, and made their most solemn vows over them, the highest honours were conferred on them. Their flesh is celebrated as the "nutriment of lovers," and the "viand of worthies;" and a peacock was always the most distinguished dish at the solemn banquets of princes or nobles. On these occasions it was served up on a golden dish, and carried to table by a lady of rank, attended by a train of high-born dames and damsels, and accompanied by music. If it was on the occasion of a tournament, the successful knight always carved it, so regulating his portions that each individual, be the company ever so numerous, might taste. For the oath, the knight rising from his seat and extending his hand over the bird, vowed some daring enterprise of arms or love:--"I vow to God, to the blessed Virgin, to the dames, and to the _peacock_, &c. &c." In later and less imaginative times, the peacock, though still a favourite dish at a banquet, seems to have been regarded more from its affording "good eating" than from any more refined attribute. Massinger speaks of "the carcases Of three fat wethers bruised for gravy, to Make sauce for a single peacock." In Shakspeare's time the bird was usually put into a pie, the head, richly gilt, being placed at one end of the dish, and the tail, spread out in its full circumference, at the other. And alas! for the degeneracy of those days. The solemn and knightly adjuration of former times had even then dwindled into the absurd oath which Shakspeare puts into the mouth of Justice Shallow:-- "By _cock_ and _pye_, Sir, you shall not away to night." In some of the French tapestries birds of all shapes, natural and unnatural, of all sizes and in all positions, form very important parts of the subjects themselves; though this remark is hardly in place here, as the tapestries are of later date, and not solely needlework. To return, however: mention is made in an old chronicle of _antiquitas Congregatio Ancilarum, quæ opere plumario ornamenta ecclesiam laborabant_. It has been a subject of much discussion whether this Opus Plumarium signified some arrangement of real feathers, or merely fanciful embroidery in imitation of them. Lytlyngton, Abbot of Croyland, in Edward the Fourth's time, gave to his church nine copes of cloth of gold, exquisitely feathered.[17] This was perhaps embroidered imitation. A vestment which Cnute the Great presented to this abbey was made of silk embroidered with eagles of gold. Richard Upton, elected abbot in 1417, gave silk embroidered with falcons for copes; and about the same time John Freston gave a rich robe of Venetian blue embroidered with golden eagles. These were positively imitations merely; yet they evince the prevailing taste for feathered work, and, as we have shown, feathers themselves were much used. It is recorded that Pope Paul the Third sent King Pepin a present of a mantle interwoven with peacocks' feathers. And from whatever circumstance the reverence for peacocks' feathers originated,[18] it is not, even yet, quite exploded. There are some lingering remnants of a superstitious regard for them which may have had their origin in these very times and circumstances. For how surely, where they are rigidly traced, are our country customs, our vulgar ceremonies, our apparently absurd and senseless usages, found to emanate from some principle or superstition of general and prevailing adoption. In some counties we cannot enter a farm-house where the mantel-piece in the parlour is not decorated with a diadem of peacock feathers, which are carefully dusted and preserved. And in houses of more assuming pretensions the same custom frequently prevails; and we knew a lady who carefully preserved some peacock feathers in a drawer long after her association with people in a higher station than that to which she originally belonged had made her ashamed to display them in her parlour. _This_ could not be for _mere_ ornament: there is some idea of _luck_ attached to them, which seems not improbably to have arisen from circumstances connected originally with the "Vow of the Peacock." At any rate, the religious care with which peacocks' feathers are preserved by many who care not for them as ornaments, is not a whit more ridiculous than to see people gravely turn over the money in their pockets when they first hear the cuckoo, or joyfully fasten a dropped horse-shoe on their threshold, or shudderingly turn aside if two straws lie across in their path, or thankfully seize an old shoe accidentally met with, heedless of the probable state of the beggared foot that may unconsciously have left it there, or any other of the million unaccountable customs which diversify and enliven country life, and which still prevail and flourish, notwithstanding the extensive travels and sweeping devastations of the modern "schoolmaster." Do not our readers recollect Cowper's thanksgiving "on finding the heel of a shoe?"-- "Fortune! I thank thee, gentle goddess! thanks! Not that my muse, though bashful, shall deny She would have thanked thee rather, hadst thou cast A treasure in her way; for neither meed Of early breakfast, to dispel the fumes And bowel-raking pains of emptiness, Nor noontide feast, nor ev'ning's cool repast, Hopes she from this--presumptuous, though perhaps The cobbler, leather-carving artist, might. Nathless she thanks thee, and accepts thy boon, Whatever; not as erst the fabled cock, Vain-glorious fool! unknowing what he found, Spurned the rich gem thou gavest him. Wherefore, ah! Why not on me that favour, (worthier sure!) Conferr'dst, goddess! thou art blind, thou sayest: Enough! thy blindness shall excuse the deed." Return we to our needlework. We have clear proof that, before the end of the seventh century, our fair countrywomen were skilled not merely in the use of the needle as applied to necessary purposes, but also in its application to the varied and elegant embroidered garments to which we have so frequently alluded, as forming properties of value and consideration. They were chiefly executed by ladies of the highest rank and greatest piety--very frequently, indeed, by those of royal blood--and were usually (as we have before observed) devoted to the embellishment of the church, or the decoration of its ministers. It was not unusual to bequeath such properties. "I give," said the wife of the Conqueror, in her will, "to the Abbey of the Holy Trinity, my tunic worked at Winchester by Alderet's wife, and the mantle embroidered with gold, which is in my chamber, to make a cope. Of my two golden girdles, I give that which is ornamented with emblems for the purpose of suspending the lamp before the great altar."[19] Amongst some costly presents sent by Isabella, Queen of Edward the Second, to the Pope, was a magnificent cope, embroidered and studded with large white pearls, and purchased of the executors of Catherine Lincoln, for a sum equivalent to between two and three thousand pounds of present money. Another cope, thought worthy to accompany it, was also the work of an Englishwoman, Rose de Bureford, wife of John de Bureford, citizen and merchant of London. Anciently, banners, either from being made of some relic, or from the representation on them of holy things, were held sacred, and much superstitious faith placed in them; consequently the pious and industrious finger was much occupied in working them. King Arthur, when he fought the eighth battle against the Saxons, carried the "image of Christ and of the blessed Mary (always a virgin) upon his shoulders." Over the tomb of Oswald, the great Christian hero, was laid a banner of purple wrought with gold. When St. Augustine first came to preach to the Saxons, he had a cross borne before him, with a banner, on which was the image of our Saviour Christ. The celebrated standard of the Danes had the sacred raven worked on it; and the ill-fated Harold bore to the field of Hastings a banner with the figure of an armed man worked in gold thread: to the same field William bore a standard, a gift from the Pope, and blessed by his Holiness. It is recorded of St. Dunstan, who, as our readers well know, excelled in many pursuits, and especially in painting, for which he frequently forsook his peculiar occupation of goldsmith, that on one occasion, at the earnest request of a lady, he _tinted_ a sacerdotal vestment for her, which she afterwards embroidered in gold thread in an exquisitely beautiful style. Most of these embroidered works were first tinted, very probably in the way in which they now are, or until the freer influx of the more beautiful German patterns, they lately were; and it is from this previous tinting that they are so frequently described in the old books as _painted_ garments, _pictured_ vestments, &c., this term by no means seeming usually to imply that the use of the needle had been neglected or superseded in them. The garments of Edward the Confessor, which he wore upon occasions of great solemnity, were sumptuously embroidered with gold by the hands of Edgitha, his Queen. The four princesses, daughters of King Edward the Elder, were most carefully educated: their early years were chiefly devoted to literary pursuits, but they were nevertheless most assiduously instructed in the use of the needle, and are highly celebrated by historians for their assiduity and skill in spinning, weaving, and needlework. This was so far, says the historian, from spoiling the fortunes of those royal spinsters, that it procured them the addresses of the greatest princes then in Europe, and one, "in whom the whole essence of beauty had centered, was demanded from her brother by Hugh, King of the Franks." Our fair readers may take some interest in knowing what were the propitiatory offerings of a noble suitor of those days. "Perfumes, such as never had been seen in England before; jewels, but more especially emeralds, the greenness of which, reflected by the sun, illumined the countenances of the bystanders with agreeable light; many fleet horses, with their trappings, and, as Virgil says, 'champing their golden bits;' an alabaster vase, so exquisitely chased, that the corn-fields really seemed to wave, the vines to bud, the figures of men actually to move, and so clear and polished, that it reflected the features like a mirror; the sword of Constantine the Great, on which the name of its original possessor was read in golden letters; on the pommel, upon thick plates of gold, might be seen fixed an iron spike, one of the four which the Jewish faction prepared for the crucifixion of our Lord; the spear of Charles the Great, which, whenever that invincible Emperor hurled in his expeditions against the Saracens, he always came off conqueror; it was reported to be the same which, driven into the side of our Saviour by the hand of the centurion, opened, by that precious wound, the joys of paradise to wretched mortals; the banner of the most blessed martyr Maurice, chief of the Theban legion, with which the same King, in the Spanish war, used to break through the battalions of the enemy, however fierce and wedged together, and put them to flight; a diadem, precious from its quantity of gold, but more so for its jewels, the splendour of which threw the sparks of light so strongly on the beholders, that the more steadfastly any person endeavoured to gaze, so much the more dazzled he was--compelled to avert his eyes; part of the holy and adorable cross enclosed in crystal, where the eye, piercing through the substance of the stone, might discern the colour and size of the wood; a small portion of the crown of thorns enclosed in a similar manner, which, in derision of his government, the madness of the soldiers placed on Christ's sacred head. "The King (Athelstan), delighted with such great and exquisite presents, made an equal return of good offices, and gratified the soul of the longing suitor by a union with his sister. With some of these presents he enriched succeeding kings; but to Malmesbury he gave part of the cross and crown; by the support of which, I believe, that place even now flourishes, though it has suffered so many shipwrecks of its liberty, so many attacks of its enemies."[20] It is not to be supposed that at a time when the "whole island" was said to "blaze" with devotion, and when, moreover, her own fair daughters surpassed the whole world in needlework, that the English churches were deficient in its beautiful adornments. Far otherwise, indeed. We forbear to enumerate many, because our chapter has already exceeded its prescribed limits; but we may particularize a golden veil or hanging (vellum), embroidered with the destruction of Troy, which Witlaf, King of Mercia, gave to the abbey of Croyland; and the coronation mantle of Harold Harefoot, son of Cnute, which he gave to the same abbey, made of silk, and embroidered with "Hesperian apples." Richard, who was abbot of St. Alban's from 1088 to 1119, made a present to his monastery of a suit of hangings which contained the whole history of the primitive martyr of England, Alban. Croyland Abbey possessed many hangings for the altars, embroidered with golden birds; and a garment, which seems to have been a peculiar, and considered a valuable one, being a black gown wrought with gold letters, to officiate in at funerals. The enigmatical letters which were worked on ecclesiastical vestments in those days, were various and peculiar, and have given abundant scope for antiquarian research. We have heard it surmised that they took their rise in times of persecution, being indications (then, doubtless, slight and unostentatious ones) by which the Christians might know each other. But they came into more general use, not merely as symbolical characters, but individual names were wrought, and that not on personal garments alone, for Pope Leo the Fourth placed a cloth on the altar woven with gold, and spangled all over with pearls. It had on each side (right and left) a circle bounded with gold, within which the name of his Holiness was written in precious stones. In many old paintings a letter or letters have been noticed on the garment of the principal figure, and they have been taken for private marks of the painter, but it is more probable, says Ciampini,[21] that they are either copied from old garments, or are intended to denote the dignity of the character to which they are attached. We will conclude the present chapter by remarking that one of the most magnificent specimens of ancient needlework in existence, and which is in excellent preservation, is the State Pall belonging to the Fishmongers Company. The end pieces are similar, and consist of a picture, wrought in gold and silk, of the patron, St. Peter, in pontificial robes, seated on a superb throne, and crowned with the papal tiara. Holding in one hand the keys, the other is in the posture of giving the benediction, and on each side is an angel, bearing a golden vase, from which he scatters incense over the Saint. The angel's wings, according to old custom, are composed of peacocks' feathers in all their natural vivid colours; their outer robes are gold raised with crimson; their under vests white, shaded with sky blue; the faces are finely worked in satin, after nature, and they have long yellow hair. There are various designs on the side pieces; the most important and conspicuous is Christ delivering the keys to Peter. Among other decorations are, of course, the arms of the company, richly emblazoned, the supporters of which, the merman and mermaid, are beautifully worked, the merman in gold armour, the mermaid in white silk, with long tresses in golden thread. This magnificent piece of needlework has probably no parallel in this country. FOOTNOTES: [11] When Robert, Abbot of St. Alban's, visited his countryman Pope Adrian the Fourth, he made him several valuable presents, and amongst other things three mitres and a pair of sandals of most admirable workmanship. His holiness refused his other presents, but thankfully accepted of the mitres and sandals, being charmed with their exquisite beauty. These admired pieces of embroidery were the work of Christina, Abbess of Markgate. [12] "Anglicæ nationis feminæ multum acu et auri textura, egregie viri in omni valeant artificio. Però fu renomato Opus Anglicum."--From Muratori. [13] A florene is 4_s._ 6_d._ [14] "The pall was a bishop's vestment, going over the shoulders, made of sheep-skin, in memory of him who sought the lost sheep, and when he had found it laid it on his shoulders; and it was embroidered with crosses, and taken off the body or coffin of St. Peter."--Camden. [15] Anastasius Bibliothecarius. De Vitis Romanorum Pontificum. As this work is the fountain whence subsequent writers have chiefly obtained their information with regard to church vestments, that is to say, decorative ones, it may not be amiss to transcribe a passage, taken literally at random from scores of similar ones. It will give the reader some idea of the profusion with which the expensive garnitures were supplied:-- "Sed et super altare majus fecit tetra vela holoserica alithina quatuor, cum astillis, et rosis chrysoclabis. Et in eodem altare fecit cum historiis crucifixi Domini vestem tyriam. Et in Ecclesia Doctoris Mundi beati Pauli Apostoli tetra vela holoserica alithyna quatuor, et vestem super altare albam chrysoclabam, habentem historiam Sanctæ Resurrectionis, et aliam vestem chrysoclabam, habentem historiam nativitatis Domini, et Sanctorum Innocentium. Immo et aliam vestem tyriam, habentem historiam cæci illuminati, et Resurrectionem. Idem autem sanctissimus Præsul fecit in basilica beatæ Mariæ ad Præsepe vestem albam chrysoclabam, habentem historiam sanctæ Resurrectionis. Sed et aliam vestem in orbiculis chrysoclabis, habentem historias Annunciationis, et sanctorum Joachim, et Annæ. Fecit in Ecclesia beati Laurentii foris muros eidem Præsul vestem albam rosatam cum chrysoclabo. Sed et aliam vestem super sanctum corpus ejus albam de stauraci chrysoclabam, cum margaritis. Et in titulo Calixti vestem chrysoclabam ex blattin Byzanteo, habentem historiam nativitatis Domini, et sancti Simeonis. Item in Ecclesia sancti Pancratii vestem tyriam, habentem historiam Ascencionis Domini, seu et in sancta Maria ad Martyres fecit vestem tyriam ut supra. Et in basilica sanctorum Cosmæ et Damiani fecit vestem de blatti Byzanteo, cum periclysin de chrysoclabo, et margaritis."--i. 285. [16] "De staurace." [17] "Opere plumario exquitissime præparatas." [18] In the classical ages, they were in high repute. Juno's chariot is drawn by peacocks; and Olympian Jove himself invests his royal limbs with a mantle formed of their feathers. [19] The name of Dame Leviet has descended to posterity as an embroiderer to the Conqueror and his Queen. [20] Will. of Malmesbury, 156. [21] Vet. Mon. cap. 13. CHAPTER VIII. THE BAYEUX TAPESTRY.--PART I. "Needlework sublime." Cowper. Great discussion has taken place amongst the learned with regard to the exact time at which the Bayeux tapestry was wrought. The question, except as a matter of curiosity, is, perhaps, of little account--fifty years earlier or later, nearly eight hundred years ago. It had always been considered as the work of Matilda, the wife of the conquering Duke of Normandy until a few years ago, when the Abbé de la Rue started and endeavoured to maintain the hypothesis that it was worked by or under the direction of the Empress Matilda, the daughter of Henry the First.[22] But his positions, as Dibdin observes,[23] are all of a _negative_ character, and, "according to the strict rules of logic, it must not be admitted, that because such and such writers have _not_ noticed a circumstance, therefore that circumstance or event cannot have taken place." Hudson Gurney, Charles A. Stothard, and Thos. Amyot, Esqrs. have all published essays on the subject,[24] which establish almost to certainty the fact of the production of this tapestry at the earlier of the two periods contended for, viz. from 1066 to 1068. In this we rejoice, because this Herculean labour has a halo of deep interest thrown round it, from the circumstance of its being the proud tribute of a fond and affectionate wife, glorying in her husband's glory, and proud of emblazoning his deeds. As the work of the Empress Matilda it would still be a magnificent production of industry and of skill; as the work of "Duke William's" wife these qualities merge in others of a more interesting character.[25] This excellent and amiable princess was a most highly accomplished woman, and remarkable for her learning; she was the affectionate mother of a large family, the faithful wife of an enterprising monarch, with whom she lived for thirty-three years so harmoniously that her death had such an effect on her husband as to cause him to relinquish, never again to resume, his usual amusements.[26] Little did the affectionate wife think, whilst employed over this task, that her domestic tribute of regard should become an historical memento of her country, and blazon forth her illustrious husband's deeds, and her own unwearying affection, to ages upon ages hereafter to be born. For independently of the interest which may be attached to this tapestry as a pledge of feminine affection, a token of housewifely industry, and a specimen of ancient stitchery, it derives more historic value as the work of the Conqueror's wife, than if it were the production of a later time. For it holds good with these historical tapestries as with the written histories and romances of the middle ages;--authors wrote and ladies wrought (we mean no pun) their characters, _not_ in the costume of the times in which the action or event celebrated took place, but in that in which they were at the time engaged; and thus, had Matilda the Empress worked this tapestry, it is more than probable that she would have introduced the armorial bearings which were in her time becoming common, and especially the Norman leopards, of which in the tapestry there is not the slightest trace. In her time too the hair was worn so long as to excite the censures of the church, whilst at the time of the Conquest the Normans almost shaved their heads; and this circumstance, more than the want of beards, is supposed by Mr. Stothard[27] to have led to the surmise of the Anglo-Saxon spies that the Normans were all priests. This circumstance is faithfully depicted in the tapestry, where also the chief weapon seen is a lance, which was little used after the Conquest. These peculiarities, with several others which have been commented on by antiquarian writers, seem to establish the date of this production as coeval with the action which it represents, and therefore invaluable as an historical document. "It is, perhaps," says one of the learned writers on the Bayeux tapestry, "a characteristic of the literature of the present age to deduce history from sources of second-rate authority; from ballads and pictures rather than from graver and severer records. Unquestionably this is the preferable course, if amusement, not truth, be the object sought for. Nothing can be more delightful than to read the reigns of the Plantagenets in the dramas of Shakspeare, or the tales of later times in the ingenious fictions of the author of Waverley. But those who would draw historical facts from their hiding-places must be content to plod through many a ponderous worm-eaten folio, and many a half-legible and still less intelligible manuscript. "Yet," continues he, "if the Bayeux tapestry be not history of the first class, it is, perhaps, something better. It exhibits genuine traits, elsewhere sought in vain, of the costume and manners of that age which, of all others, if we except the period of the Reformation, ought to be the most interesting to us; that age which gave us a new race of monarchs, bringing with them new landholders, new laws, and almost a new language. "As in the magic pages of Froissart, we here behold our ancestors of each race in most of the occupations of life, in courts and camps, in pastime and in battle, at feasts and on the bed of sickness. These are characteristics which of themselves would call forth a lively interest; but their value is greatly enhanced by their connection with one of the most important events in history, the main subject of the whole design." This magnificent piece of work is 227 feet in length by 20 inches in width, is now usually kept at the Town-hall in Rouen, and is treasured as the most precious relic. It was formerly the theme of some long and learned dissertations of antiquarian historians, amongst whom Montfaucon, perhaps, ranks most conspicuous. Still so little _local_ interest does it excite, that Mr. Gurney, in 1814, was nearly leaving Bayeux without seeing it because he did not happen to ask for it by the title of "Toile de St. Jean," and so his request was not understood; and Ducarel, in his "Tour," says, "The priests of this cathedral to whom we addressed ourselves for a sight of this remarkable piece of antiquity, knew nothing of it; the circumstance only of its being annually hung up in their church led them to understand what we wanted; no person there knowing that the object of our inquiry any ways related to William the Conqueror, whom to this day they call Duke William." During the French Revolution its surrender was demanded for the purpose of covering the guns; fortunately, however, a priest succeeded in concealing it until that storm was overpast. Bonaparte better knew its value. It was displayed for some time in Paris, and afterwards at some seaport towns. M. Denon had the charge of it committed to him by Bonaparte, but it was afterwards restored to Bayeux. It was at the time of the usurper's threatened invasion of our country that so much value was attached to, and so much pains taken to exhibit this roll. "Whether," says Dibdin, "at such a sight the soldiers shouted, and, drawing their glittering swords, "Clashed on their sounding shields the din of war,--" confident of a second representation of the same subject by a second subjugation of our country--is a point which has not been exactly detailed to me! But the supposition may not be considered very violent when I inform you that I was told by a casual French visitor of the tapestry, that '_pour cela, si Bonaparte avait eu le courage, le résultat auroit été comme autrefois_.' Matters, however, have taken _rather_ a different turn." The tapestry is coiled round a machine like that which lets down the buckets to a well, and a female unrols and explains it. It is worked in different coloured worsteds on white cloth, to which time has given the tinge of brown holland; the parts intended to represent flesh are left untouched by the needle. The colours are somewhat faded, and not very multitudinous. Perhaps it is the little variety of colours which Matilda and her ladies had at their disposal which has caused them to depict the horses of any colour--"blue, green, red, or yellow." The outline, too, is of course stiff and rude.[28] At the top and bottom of the main work is a narrow allegorical border; and each division or different action or event is marked by a branch or tree extending the whole depth of the tapestry; and most frequently each tableau is so arranged that the figures at the end of one and the beginning of the next are turned from each other, whilst above each the subject of the scene and the names of the principal actors are wrought in large letters. The subjects of the border vary; some of Æsop's fables are depicted on it, sometimes instruments of agriculture, sometimes fanciful and grotesque figures and borders; and during the heat of the battle of Hastings, when, as Montfaucon says, "le carnage est grand," the appropriate device of the border is a _layer of dead men_. "From the fury of the Normans, good Lord deliver us," was, we are told, in the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries a petition in the Litanies of all nations.[29] For long did England sorrow under their "fury," though _in time_ the Conquest produced advantageous results to the kingdom at large. Whether this Norman subjugation was in accordance with the will of the monarch Edward, or whether it was entirely the result of Duke William's ambition, must now ever remain in doubt. Harold asserted that Edward the Confessor appointed him his successor (of which, however, he could not produce proof); to this must be opposed the improbability of Edward thus ennobling a family of whom he felt, and with such abundant cause, so jealous. Probably the old chronicler (Fabyan) has hit the mark when he says, "This Edgarre (the rightful heir) was yonge, and specyally for Harolde was stronge of knyghtes and rychesse, he wanne the reygne." Be this as it may, however, Harold on the very day of Edward's interment, and that was only the day subsequent to his death, was crowned king in St. Paul's; apparently with the concurrence of all concerned, for he was powerful and popular. And his government during the chief part of his short kingly career was such as to increase his popularity: he was wise, and just, and gracious. "Anone as he was crowned, he began to fordoo euyll lawes and customes before vsed, and stablysshed the good lawes, and specyally whiche (suche) as were for the defence of holy churche, and punysshed the euyll doers, to the fere and example of other."[30] But uncontrolled authority early began to produce its wonted results. He "waxyd so prowd, and for couetouse wold not deuyde the prayes that he took to hys knyghtys, that had well deseruyd it, but kepte it to hymself, that he therby lost the fauour of many of his knyghtys and people."[31] This defection from his party doubtless made itself felt in the mortal struggle with the Norman duke which issued in Harold's discomfiture and death. Proceed we to the tapestry. The first scene which the needlewoman has depicted is a conference between a person who, from his white flowing beard and regal costume, is easily recognized as the "sainted Edward," and another, who, from his subsequent embarkation, is supposed to be Harold. The subject of the conference is, of course, only conjectured. Harold's visit to Normandy is well known; but whether, as some suppose, he was driven thither by a tempest when on a cruise of pleasure; whether he went as ambassador from Edward to communicate the intentions of the Confessor in William's behoof; or whether, as the tapestry is supposed more strongly to indicate, he obtained Edward's reluctant consent to his visit to reclaim his brother who, a hostage for his own good conduct, had been sent to William by Edward; these are points which now defy investigation, even if they were of sufficient importance to claim it. Harold is then seen on his journey attended by cavaliers on horseback, surrounded by dogs, and, an emblem of his own high dignity, a hawk on his fist. One great value of this tapestry is the scrupulous regard paid to points and circumstances which at first view might appear insignificant, but which, as correlative confirmations of usages and facts, are of considerable importance. Thus, it is known to antiquarians that great personages formerly had two only modes of equipment when proceeding on a journey, that of war or the chase. Harold is here fully equipped for the chase, and consequently the first glimpse obtained of his person would show that his errand was one of peace. The hawk on the fist was a mark of high nobility: no inferior person is represented with one: Harold and Guy Earl of Ponthieu alone bear them. In former times this bird was esteemed so sacred that it was prohibited in the ancient laws for any one to give his hawk even as a part of his ransom. In the reign of Edward the Third it was made felony to steal a hawk; and to take its eggs, even in a person's own ground, was punishable with imprisonment for a year and a day, besides a fine at the king's pleasure. Nay, more than this, by the laws of one part of the island, and probably of the whole,[32] the price of a hawk, or of a greyhound, was once the very same with the price of a man; and there was a time when the robbing of a hawk's nest was as great a crime in the eye of the law, and as severely punished, as the murder of a Christian. And of this high value they were long considered. "It is difficult," says Mr. Mills,[33] "to fancy the extravagant degree of estimation in which hawks were held during the chivalric ages. As symbols of high estate they were constantly carried about by the nobility of both sexes. There was even a usage of bringing them into places appropriated to public worship; a practice which, in the case of some individuals, appears to have been recognised as a right. The treasurer of the church of Auxerre enjoyed the distinction of assisting at divine service on solemn days with a falcon on his fist; and the Lord of Sassai held the privilege of perching his upon the altar. Nothing was thought more dishonourable to a man of rank than to give up his hawks; and if he were taken prisoner he would not resign them even for liberty." The different positions in which the hawk is placed in our needlework are worthy of remark. Here its head is raised, its wings fluttering, as if eager and ready for flight; afterwards, when Harold follows the Earl of Ponthieu as his captive, he is not, of course, deprived of his bird, but by a beautiful fiction the bird is represented depressed, and with its head turned towards its master's breast as if trying to nestle and shelter itself there. Could sympathy be more poetically expressed? Afterwards, on Harold's release, the bird is again depicted as fluttering to "soar elate." The practice very prevalent in these "barbarous times," as we somewhat too sweepingly term them, of entering on no expedition of war or pastime without imploring the protection of heaven, is intimated by a church which Harold is entering previously to his embarkation. That this observance might degenerate in many instances into mere form may be very true; and the "hunting masses" celebrated in song might, some of them, be more honoured in the breach than the observance: nevertheless in clearing away the dross of old times, we have, it is to be feared, removed some of the gold also; and the abolition of the custom of having the churches open at _all times_, so that at any moment the heart-prompted prayer might be offered up under the holy shelter of a consecrated roof, has tended very much, it is to be feared, to abolish the habit of frequent prayer. A habit in itself, and regarded even merely as a habit, fraught with inestimable good. We next see Harold and his companions refreshing themselves prior to their departure, pledging each other, and doubtless drinking to the success of their enterprise whatever it might be. The horns from which they are drinking have been the subject of critical remark. We find that horns were used for various purposes, and were of four sorts, drinking horns, hunting horns, horns for summoning the people, and of a mixed kind. They were used as modes of investiture, and this manner of endowing was usual amongst the Danes in England. King Cnute himself gave lands at Pusey in Berkshire to the family of that name, with a horn solemnly at that time delivered, as a confirmation of the grant. Edward the Confessor made a like donation to the family of Nigel. The celebrated horn of Alphus, kept in the sacristy in York Minster, was probably a drinking cup belonging to this prince, and was by him given together with all his lands and revenues to that church. "When he gave the horn that was to convey it (his estate) he filled it with wine, and on his knees before the altar, 'Deo et S. Petro omnes terras et redditus propinavit.' So that he drank it off, in testimony that thereby he gave them his lands."[34] Many instances might be adduced to show that this mode of investiture was common in England in the time of the Danes, the Anglo-Saxons, and at the close of the reign of the Norman conqueror. The drinking horns had frequently a screw at the end, which being taken off at once converted them into hunting horns, which circumstance will account for persons of distinction frequently carrying their own. Such doubtless were those used of old by the Breton hunters about Brecheliant, which is poetically described as a forest long and broad, much famed throughout Brittany. The fountain of Berenton rises from beneath a stone there. Thither the hunters are used to repair in sultry weather, and drawing up water with their horns (those horns which had just been used to sound the animated warnings of the chase), they sprinkle the stone for the purpose of having rain, which is then wont to fall throughout the whole forest around. There too fairies are to be seen, and many wonders happen. The ground is broken and precipitous, and deer in plenty roam there, but the husbandmen have forsaken it. Our author[35] goes on to say that he personally visited this enchanted region, but that, though he saw the forest and the land, no marvels presented themselves. The reason is obvious. He had, before the time, contracted some of the scepticism of these matter-of-fact "schoolmaster abroad" days. He wanted faith, and therefore he did not _deserve_ to see them. The use of drinking horns is very ancient. They were usually embellished or garnished with silver; they were in very common use among our Saxon ancestors, who frequently had them gilded and magnificently ornamented. One of those in use amongst Harold's party seems to be very richly decorated. The revellers are, however, obliged to dispatch, as their leader, Harold, is already wading through the water to his vessel. The character of Harold as displayed throughout this tapestry is a magnificent one, and does infinite credit to the generous and noble disposition of Matilda the queen, who disdained to depreciate the character of a fallen foe. He commences his expedition by an act of piety; here, on his embarkation at Bosham, he is kindly carrying his dog through the water. In crossing the sands of the river Cosno, which are dangerous, so very dangerous as most frequently to cause the destruction of those who attempt their transit, his whole concern seems to be to assist the passage of others, whose inferior natural powers do not enable them to compete with danger so successfully as himself; his character for undaunted bravery is such, that William condescends to supplicate his assistance in a feud then at issue between himself and another nobleman, and so nobly does he bear himself that the proud Norman with his own hands invests him with the emblems of honour (as seen in the tapestry); and, last scene of all, he disdained all submission, he repelled all the entreaties with which his brothers assailed him not personally to lead his troops to the encounter, and the corpses of 15,000 Normans on this field, and of even a greater number on the English monarch's side, told in bloody characters that Harold had not quailed in the last great encounter. Unpropitious winds drive him and his attendants from their intended course. Many historians accuse the people of Ponthieu of making prisoners all whose ill fortune threw them upon their coast, and of treating them with great barbarity, in order to extort the larger ransom. Be this as it may, Harold has scarcely set his foot on shore ere he is forcibly captured by the vassals of Guy of Ponthieu, who is there on horseback to witness the proceeding. The tapestry goes on to picture the progress of the captured troop and their captors to Belrem or Beurain, and a conference when there between the earl and his prisoner, where the fair embroideresses have given a delicate and expressive feature by depicting the conquering noble with his sword elevated, and the princely captive, wearing indeed his sword, but with the point depressed. It is said that a fisherman of Ponthieu, who had been often in England and knew Harold's person, was the cause of his capture. "He went privily to Guy, the Count of Pontif, and would speak to no other; and he told the Count how he could put a great prize in his way, if he would go with him; and that if he would give him only twenty livres he should gain a hundred by it, for he would deliver him such a prisoner as would pay a hundred livres or more for his ransome." The Count agreed to his terms, and then the fisherman showed him Harold. Hearing of Harold's captivity, William the Norman is anxious on all and every account to obtain possession of his person. He consequently sends ambassadors to Guy, who is represented on the tapestry as giving them audience. The person holding the horses is somewhat remarkable; he is a bearded dwarf. Dwarfs were formerly much sought after in the houses of great folks, and they were frequently sent as presents from one potentate to another. They were petted and indulged somewhat in the way of the more modern fool or jester. The custom is very old. The Romans were so fond of them, that they often used artificial methods to prevent the growth of children designed for dwarfs, by enclosing them in boxes, or by the use of tight bandages. The sister of one of the Roman emperors had a dwarf who was only two feet and a hand breadth in height. Many relations concerning dwarfs we may look upon as not less fabulous than those of giants. They are, like the latter, indispensable in romances, where their feats, far from being dwarfish, are absolutely gigantic, though these diminutive heroes seldom occupy any more ostensible post than that of humble attendant. "Fill'd with these views th' _attendant dwarf_ she sends: Before the knight the dwarf respectful bends; Kind greetings bears as to his lady's guest, And prays his presence to adorn her feast. The knight delays not." "A hugye giaunt stiffe and starke, All foule of limbe and lere; Two goggling eyen like fire farden, A mouthe from eare to eare. Before him came a dwarffe full lowe, That _waited on his knee_." Sir Cauline. "Behind her farre away a dwarfe did lag That lasie seem'd, in being ever last, Or wearied with _bearing of her bag_ Of needments at his backe." Faerie Queene. The dwarf worked in the tapestry has the name TVROLD placed above him, and seems to have been a dependant of Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, William the Conqueror's brother.[36] The first negotiations are unsuccessful; more urgent messages are forwarded, and in the end Duke William himself proceeds at the head of some troops to _compel_ the surrender of the prisoner. Count Guy is intimidated, and the object is attained; every stage of these proceedings is depicted on the canvas, as well as William's courteous reception of Harold at his palace. The portraiture of a female in a sort of porch, with a clergyman in the act of pronouncing a benediction on her, is supposed to have reference to the engagement between William and his guest, that the latter should marry the daughter of the former. Many other circumstances and conditions were tacked to this agreement, one of which was that Harold should guard the English throne for William; agreements which one and all--under the reasonable plea that they were enforced ones--the Anglo-Saxon nobleman broke through. It is said that his desertion so affected the mind of the pious young princess,[37] that her heart broke on her passage to Spain, whither they were conveying her to a forced union with a Spanish prince. As this young lady was a mere child at the time of Harold's visit to Normandy, the story, though exceedingly pretty, is probably very apocryphal. Ducarel gives an entirely different explanation of the scene, and says that it is probably meant to represent a secretary or officer coming to William's duchess, to acquaint her with the agreement just made relative to her daughter. The Earl of Bretagne is at this moment at war with Duke William, and the latter attaching Harold to his party, from whom indeed he receives effectual service, arrives at Mount St. Michel, passes the river Cosno (to which we have before alluded), and arrives at Dol in Brittany. Parties are seen flying towards Rennes. William and his followers attack Dinant, of which the keys are delivered up, and the Normans come peaceably to Bayeux; William having previously, with his own hands, invested Harold with a suit of armour. Harold shortly returns to England, but not before a very important circumstance had taken place. William and Harold had mutually entered into an agreement by which the latter had pledged himself to be true to William, to acknowledge him as Edward's successor on the English throne, and to do all in his power to obtain for him the peaceable possession of that throne; and as Harold was, the reigning monarch excepted, the first man in England, this promised support was of no trifling moment. William resolved therefore to have the oath repeated with all possible solemnity. His brother Odo, the Bishop of Bayeux, assisted him in this matter. Accordingly we see Harold standing between two altars covered with cloth of gold, a hand on each, uttering the solemn adjuration, of which William, seated on his throne, is a delighted auditor; for he well knew that the oath was more fearful than Harold was at all aware of. For "William sent for all the holy bodies thither, and put so many of them together as to fill a whole chest, and then covered them with a pall; but Harold neither saw them, nor knew of their being there, for nought was shown or told to him about it; and over all was a phylactery, the best that he could select. When Harold placed his hand upon it, the hand trembled and the flesh quivered; but he swore, and promised upon his oath, to take Ele to wife, and to deliver up England to the duke; and thereunto to do all in his power, according to his might and wit, after the death of Edward, if he should live, so help him God and the holy relics there! (meaning the Gospels, for he had none idea of any other). Many cried 'God grant it!' and when Harold had kissed the saints, and had risen upon his feet, the duke led him up to the chest, and made him stand near it; and took off the chest the pall that had covered it, and showed Harold upon what holy relics he had sworn, and he was sorely alarmed at the sight." FOOTNOTES: [22] Archæologia, vol. xvii. [23] Biblio. Tour, vol. i., 138. [24] Archæol. vols. xviii., xix. [25] One writer, Bolton Corney, Esq., maintains that this work was provided at the expense of the Chapter of Bayeux, under their superintendence, and from their designs. "If it had not (says he) been devised within the precincts of a church it could not have escaped female influence: it could not have contained such indications of _celibatic_ superintendence. It is not without its domestic and festive scenes; and comprises, exclusive of the borders, about 530 figures; but in this number there are only three females." [26] Henry III., 25. [27] Archæol. vol. xix. [28] The attempts to imitate the human figure were, at this period, stiff and rude: but arabesque patterns were now _chiefly_ worked; and they were rich and varied. [29] Henry III., 554. [30] Fabyan's Chron. [31] Rastell's Chron. [32] Henry II., 515. [33] Hist. Chiv. [34] Archæol. 1 and 3. [35] Master Wace. Roman de Rou, &c., by Taylor. [36] Archæologia, vol. xix. [37] "Her knees were like horn with constant kneeling." CHAPTER IX. THE BAYEUX TAPESTRY.--PART II. "But bloody, bloody was the field, Ere that lang day was done." Hardyknute. "King William bithought him alsoe of that Folke that was forlorne, And slayn also thoruz him In the bataile biforne. And ther as the bataile was, An abbey he lite rere Of Seint Martin, for the soules That there slayn were. And the monkes well ynoug Feffed without fayle, That is called in Englonde Abbey of Bataile." Immediately after the solemn ceremony described in the foregoing chapter, Harold is depicted as returning to England and presenting himself before the king, Edward the Confessor. "But the day came that no man can escape, and King Edward drew near to die." His deathbed and his funeral procession are both wrought in the tapestry, but by some accident have been transposed. His remains are borne in splendid procession to the magnificent house which he had builded (_i.e._ rebuilded), Westminster Abbey; over which, in the sky, a hand is seen to point as if in benediction. It is well known that the Abbey was barely finished at the time of the pious monarch's death, and this circumstance is intimated in an intelligible though homely manner in the tapestry by a person occupied in placing a weathercock on the summit of the building. The first pageant seen within its walls was the funeral array of the monarch who so beautifully rebuilt and so amply endowed it. Before the high altar, in a splendid shrine, where gems and jewelry flashed back the gleams of innumerable torches, and amid the solemn chant of the monks, whose "Miserere" echoed through the vaulted aisles, interrupted but by the subdued wail of the mourners, or the emphatic benediction of the poor whose friend he had been, were laid the remains of him who was called the Sainted Edward; whose tomb was considered so hallowed a spot that the very stones around it were worn down by the knees of the pilgrims who resorted thither for prayer; and the very dust of whose shrine was carefully swept and collected, exported to the continent, and bought by devotees at a high price. We next see in the tapestry the crown _offered_ to Harold (a circumstance to be peculiarly remarked, since thus depicted by his opponent's wife), and then Harold shows right royally receiving the homage and gratulations of those around. But the next scene forbodes a change of fortune: "ISTI MIRANT STELLA," is the explanation wrought over it. For there appeared "a blasing starre, which was seene not onelie here in England, but also in other parts of the world, and continued the space of seven daies. This blasing starre might be a prediction of mischeefe imminent and hanging over Harold's head; for they never appeare but as prognosticats of afterclaps." Popular belief has generally invested these ill-omened bodies with peculiar terrors. "These blasing starres--dreadful to be seene, with bloudie haires, and all over rough and shagged at the top." They vary, however, in their appearance. Sometimes they are pale, and glitter like a sword, without any rays or beams. Such was the one which is said to have hung over Jerusalem for near a year before its destruction, filling the minds of all who beheld it with awe and superstitious dread. A comet resembling a horn appeared when the "whole manhood of Greece fought the battaile of Salamis." Comets foretold the war between Cæsar and Pompey, the murder of Claudius, and the tyranny of Nero. Though _usually_, they were not _invariably_, considered as portents of evil omen: for the birth and accession of Alexander, of Mithridates, the birth of Charles Martel, and the accession of Charlemagne, and the commencement of the Tátár empire, were all notified by blazing stars. A very brilliant one which appeared for seven consecutive nights soon after the death of Julius Cæsar was supposed to be conveying the soul of the murdered dictator to Olympus. An author who wrote on one which appeared in the reign of Elizabeth was most anxious, as in duty bound, to apply the phenomenon to the queen. But here was the puzzle. "To have foretold calamities might have been misprision of treason; and the only precedent for saying anything good of a comet was to be drawn from that which occurred after the death of Julius Cæsar;" but it so happened that at this time Elizabeth was by no means either ripe or willing for her apotheosis.[38] Comets, one author writes, "were made to the end the etherial regions might not be more void of monsters than the ocean is of whales and other great thieving fishes, and that a gross fatness being gathered together as excrements into an imposthume, the celestial air might thereby be purged, lest the sun should be obscured." Another says, they "signifie corruption of the ayre. They are signes of earthquake, of warres, chaunging of kyngdomes, great dearth of corne, yea, a common death of man and beast." So a poet of the same age:-- "There with long bloody hair a blazing star Threatens the world with famine, plague, and war; To princes death, to kingdoms many crosses, To all estates inevitable losses; To herdsmen rot, to plowmen hapless seasons, To sailors storms, to cities civil treasons." But a writer on comets in 1665 crowned all previous conjecture. "As if God and Nature intended by comets to ring the knells of princes; esteeming the bells of churches upon earth not sacred enough for such illustrious and eminent performances." No wonder that the comet in Harold's days was regarded with fearful misgivings. It did not, however, dismay him. Duke William, as may be supposed, did not tamely submit to a usurpation of what he considered, or affected to consider, his own dominions--a circumstance which we see an envoy, probably from his party in England, makes him acquainted with. He holds a council, seemingly an earnest and animated one, which evidently results in the immediate preparation of a fleet; of which the tapestry delineates the various stages and circumstances, from the felling of the timber in its native woods to the launching of the vessels, stored and fully equipped in arms, provisions, and heroes for invasion and conquest. William in this expedition received unusual assistance from his own tributary chiefs, and from various other allies, who joined his standard, and without whom, indeed, he could not, with any chance of success, have made his daring attempt. A summer and autumn were spent in fitting-up the fleet and collecting the forces, "and there was no knight in the land, no good serjeant, archer, nor peasant of stout heart, and of age for battle, that the duke did not summon to go with him to England; promising rents to the vavassors, and honours to the barons." Thus was an armament prepared of seven hundred ships, but the one which bore William, the hero of the expedition, shone proudly pre-eminent over the rest. It was the gift of his affectionate queen. It is represented in the canvas of larger size than the others: the mast, surmounted by a cross, bears the banner which was sent to William by the Pope as a testimony of his blessing and approbation. On this mast also a beacon-light nightly blazed as a _point d'approche_ of the remainder of the fleet. On the poop was the figure of a boy (supposed to be meant for the conqueror's youngest son), gilded, and looking earnestly towards England, holding in one hand a banner, in the other an ivory horn, on which he is sounding a joyful reveillee. But long the fleet waited at St. Valeri for a fair wind, until the barons became weary and dispirited. Then they prayed the convent to bring out the shrine of St. Valeri and set it on a carpet in the plain; and all came praying the holy relics that they might be allowed to pass over sea. They offered so much money, that the relics were buried beneath it; and from that day forth they had good weather and a fair wind. "Than Willyam thanked God and Saynt Valary, and toke shortly after shyppynge, and helde his course towarde Englande." On the arrival of the fleet in England a banquet is prepared. The shape of the table at which William sits has been the theme of some curious remarks by Father Montfaucon, which have been copied by Ducarel and others. It is in form of a half-moon, and was called by the Romans _sigma_, from the Greek +s+. It was calculated only for seven persons; and a facetious emperor once invited eight, on purpose to raise a laugh against the person for whom there would be no place. "A knight in that country (Britain) heard the noise and cry made by the peasants and villains when they saw the great fleet arrive. He well knew that the Normans were come, and that their object was to seize the land. He posted himself behind a hill, so that they should not see him, and tarried there watching the arrival of the great fleet. He saw the archers come forward from the ships, and the knights follow. He saw the carpenters with their axes, and the host of people and troops. He saw the men throw the materials for the fort out of the ships. He saw them build up and enclose the fort, and dig the fosse around it. He saw them land the shields and armour. And as he beheld all this his spirit was troubled; and he girt his sword and took his lance, saying he would go straightway to King Harold and tell the news. Forthwith he set out on his way, resting late and rising early; and thus he journeyed on by night and by day to seek Harold his lord." And we see him in the tapestry speeding to his beloved master. Meanwhile Harold is not idle. But the fleet which, in expectation of his adversary's earlier arrival, he had stationed on the southern coast, had lately dispersed from want of provisions, and the King, occupied by the Norwegian invasion, had not been able to reinstate it; and "William came against him (says the Saxon chronicle) unawares ere his army was collected." Thus the enemy found nor opposition nor hinderance in obtaining a footing in the island. Taken at such disadvantage, Harold did all that a brave man could do to repel his formidable adversary. The tapestry depicts, as well as may be expected, the battle. "The priests had watched all night, and besought and called upon God, and prayed to him in their chapels, which were fitted up throughout the host. They offered and vowed fasts, penances, and orisons; they said psalms and misereres, litanies and kyriels; they cried on God, and for his mercy, and said paternosters and masses; some the SPIRITUS DOMINI, others SALUS POPULI, and many SALVE SANCTE PARENS, being suited to the season, as belonging to that day, which was Saturday. "AND NOW, BEHOLD! THAT BATTLE WAS GATHERED WHEREOF THE FAME IS YET MIGHTY. "Then Taillefer, who sang right well, rode, mounted on a swift horse, before the duke. "Loud and far resounded the bray of the horns, and the shocks of the lances, the mighty strokes of clubs, and the quick clashing of swords. One while the Englishmen rushed on, another while they fell back; one while the men from over sea charged onwards, and again at other times retreated. When the English fall, the Normans shout. Each side taunts and defies the other, yet neither knoweth what the other saith; and the Normans say the English bark, because they understand not their speech. "Some wax strong, others weak; the brave exult, but the cowards tremble, as men who are sore dismayed. The Normans press on the assault, and the English defend their post well; they pierce the hauberks and cleave the shields; receive and return mighty blows. Again some press forwards, others yield, and thus in various ways the struggle proceeds." The death of Harold's two brothers is depicted, and, finally, his own. It is said that his mother offered the weight of the body in gold to have the melancholy satisfaction of interring it, and that the Conqueror refused the boon. But other writers affirm, and apparently with truth, that William immediately transmitted the body, unransomed, to the bereaved parent, who had it interred in the monastery of Waltham. With the death of Harold the tapestry now ends, though some writers think it probable that it once extended as far as the coronation of William. There can be little doubt of its having been intended to extend so far, though it is impossible now to ascertain whether the Queen was ever enabled quite to complete her Herculean task. Enough there is, however, to stamp it as one of the "most noble and interesting relics of antiquity;" and, as Dibdin calls it, "an exceedingly curious document of the conjugal attachment, and even enthusiastic veneration of Matilda, and a political record of more weight than may at first sight appear to belong to it." Taking it altogether, he adds, "none but itself could be its parallel." Almost all historians describe the Normans as advancing to the onset "singing the song of Roland," that is, a detail of the achievements of the slaughtered hero of Roncesvalles, which is well known to have been, for ages after the event to which it refers, a note of magical inspiration to deeds of "derring do". On this occasion it is recorded that the spirit note was sung by the minstrel Taillefer, who was, however, little contented to lead his countrymen by voice alone. It is not possible that our readers can be otherwise than pleased with the following animated account of his deeds:[39]-- THE ONSET OF TAILLEFER "Foremost in the bands of France, Arm'd with hauberk and with lance, And helmet glittering in the air, As if a warrior-knight he were, Rushed forth the minstrel Taillefer-- Borne on his courser swift and strong, He gaily bounded o'er the plain, And raised the heart-inspiring song (Loud echoed by the warlike throng) Of Roland and of Charlemagne, Of Oliver, brave peer of old, Untaught to fly, unknown to yield, And many a knight and vassal bold, Whose hallowed blood, in crimson flood, Dyed Roncesvalles' field. "Harold's host he soon descried, Clustering on the hill's steep side: Then turned him back brave Taillefer, And thus to William urged his prayer: 'Great Sire, it fits me not to tell How long I've served you, or how well; Yet if reward my lays may claim, Grant now the boon I dare to name; Minstrel no more, be mine the blow That first shall strike yon perjured foe.' 'Thy suit is gained,' the Duke replied, 'Our gallant minstrel be our guide.' 'Enough,' he cried, 'with joy I speed, Foremost to vanquish or to bleed.' "And still of Roland's deeds he sung, While Norman shouts responsive rung, As high in air his lance he flung, With well directed might; Back came the lance into his hand, Like urchin's ball, or juggler's wand, And twice again, at his command, Whirled its unerring flight.-- While doubting whether skill or charm Had thus inspired the minstrel's arm, The Saxons saw the wondrous dart Fixed in their standard bearer's heart. "Now thrice aloft his sword he threw, 'Midst sparkling sunbeams dancing, And downward thrice the weapon flew, Like meteor o'er the evening dew, From summer sky swift glancing: And while amazement gasped for breath, Another Saxon groaned in death. "More wonders yet!--on signal made, With mane erect, and eye-balls flashing, The well taught courser rears his head, His teeth in ravenous fury gnashing; He snorts--he foams--and upward springs-- Plunging he fastens on the foe, And down his writhing victim flings, Crushed by the wily minstrel's blow. Thus seems it to the hostile band Enchantment all, and fairy land. "Fain would I leave the rest unsung:-- The Saxon ranks, to madness stung, Headlong rushed with frenzied start, Hurling javelin, mace, and dart; No shelter from the iron shower Sought Taillefer in that sad hour; Yet still he beckoned to the field, 'Frenchman, come on--the Saxons yield-- Strike quick--strike home--in Roland's name-- For William's glory--Harold's shame.' Then pierced with wounds, stretched side by side, The minstrel and his courser died." We have dwelt on the details of the tapestry with a prolixity which some may deem tedious. Yet surely the subject is worthy of it; for, in the first place, it is the oldest piece of needlework in the world--the only piece of that era now existing; and this circumstance in itself suggests many interesting ideas, on which, did our space permit, we could readily dilate. Ages have rolled away; and the fair hands that wrought this work have mouldered away into dust; and the gentle and affectionate spirit that suggested this elaborate memorial has long since passed from the scene which it adorned and dignified. In no long period after the battle thus commemorated, an abbey, consecrated to praise and prayer, raised its stately walls on the very field that was ploughed with the strife and watered with the blood of fierce and evil men. The air that erst rang with the sounds of wrath, of strife, of warfare, the clangour of armour, the din of war, was now made musical with the chorus of praise, or was gently stirred by the breath of prayer or the sigh of penitence; and where contending hosts were marshalled in proud array, or the phalanx rushed impetuous to the battle, were seen the stoled monks in solemn procession, or the holy brother peacefully wending on his errand of charity. But the grey and time-honoured walls waxed aged as they beheld generation after generation consigned to dust beneath their shelter. Time and change have done their worst. A few scattered ruins, seen dimly through the mist of years, are all that remain to point to the inquiring wanderer the site of the stupendous struggle of which the results are felt even after the expiration of eight hundred years. These may be deemed trite reflections: still it is worthy of remark, that many of the turbulent spirits who then made earth echo with their fame would have been literally and altogether as though they never had been--for historians make little or no mention of them--were it not for the lasting monument raised to them in this tapestry by woman's industry and skill. Matilda the Queen's character is pictured in high terms by both English and Norman historians. "So very stern was her husband, and hot, that no man durst do anything against his will. He had earls in his custody who acted against his will. Bishops he hurled from their bishoprics, and abbots from their abbacies, and thanes into prison;" yet it is recorded that even his iron temper was not proof against the good sense, the gentleness, the piety, and the affection of a wife who never offended him but once; and on this occasion there was so much to palliate and excuse her fault, proceeding as it did from a mother's yearnings towards her eldest son when he was in disgrace and sorrow, that the usually unyielding King forgave her immediately. She lived beloved, and she died lamented; and, from the time of her death, the King, says William of Malmsbury, "refrained from every gratification." Independently of the value of this tapestry as an historical authority, and its interest as being projected, and in part executed, by a lady as excellent in character as she was noble in rank, and its high estimation as the oldest piece of needlework extant--independently of all these circumstances, it is impossible to study this memorial closely, "rude and skilless" as it at first appears, without becoming deeply interested in the task. The outline engravings of it in the "Tapisseries Anciennes Historiées" are beautifully executed, but are inferior in interest to Mr. Stothart's (published by the Society of Antiquarians), because these have the advantage of being coloured accurately from the original. In the study of these plates alone, days and weeks glided away, nor left us weary of our task. FOOTNOTES: [38] The Comet of 1618 carried dismay and horror in its course. Not only mighty monarchs, but the humblest private individuals seem to have considered the sign as sent to them, and to have set a double guard on all their actions. Thus Sir Symonds D'Ewes, the learned antiquary, having been in danger of an untimely end by entangling himself among some bell-ropes, makes a memorandum in his private diary never more to exercise himself in bell-ringing when there is a comet in the sky.--Aikin. [39] By Thomas Amyot, Esq., F.S.A.--Archæol., vol. xix CHAPTER X. NEEDLEWORK OF THE TIMES OF ROMANCE AND CHIVALRY. "As ladies wont To finger the fine needle and nyse thread." Faerie Queene. Though, during bygone ages, the fingers of the fair and noble were often sedulously employed in the decoration and embellishment of the church, and of its ministers, they were by no means universally so. Marvellous indeed in quantity, as well as quality, must have been the stitchery done in those industrious days, for the "fine needle and nyse thread" were not merely visible but conspicuous in every department of life. If, happily, there were not proof to the contrary, we might be apt to imagine that the women of those days came into the world _only_ "to ply the distaff, broider, card, and sew." That this was not the case we, however, well know; but before we turn to those embroideries which are more especially the subject of this chapter, we will transcribe, from a recent work,[40] an interesting detail of the household responsibilities of the mistress of a family in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. "While to play on the harp and citole (a species of lute), to execute various kinds of the most costly and delicate needle-work, and in some instances to 'pourtraye,' were, in addition to more literary pursuits, the accomplishments of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the functions which the mistress of an extensive household was expected to fulfil were never lost sight of. "Few readers are aware of the various qualifications requisite to form the 'good housewife' during the middle ages. In the present day, when household articles of every kind are obtainable in any country town, and, with few exceptions, throughout the year, we can know little of the judgment, the forethought, and the nice calculation which were required in the mistress of a household consisting probably of three-score, or even more persons, and who, in the autumn, had to provide almost a twelvemonth's stores. There was the fire-wood, the rushes to strew the rooms, the malt, the oatmeal, the honey (at this period the substitute for sugar), the salt (only sold in large quantities), and, if in the country, the wheat and the barley for the bread--all to be provided and stored away. The greater part of the meat used for the winter's provision was killed and salted down at Martinmas; and the mistress had to provide the necessary stock for the winter and spring consumption, together with the stockfish and 'baconed herrings' for Lent. Then at the annual fair, the only opportunity was afforded for purchasing those more especial articles of housewifery which the careful housewife never omitted buying--the ginger, nutmegs, and cinnamon, for the Christmas posset, and Sheer-Monday furmety; the currants and almonds for the Twelfth-Night cake (an observance which dates almost as far back as the Conquest); the figs, with which our forefathers always celebrated Palm-Sunday; and the pepper, the saffron, and the cummin, so highly prized in ancient cookery. All these articles bore high prices, and therefore it was with great consideration and care that they were bought. "But the task of providing raiment for the family also devolved upon the mistress, and there were no dealers save for the richer articles of wearing apparel to be found. The wool that formed the chief clothing was the produce of the flock, or purchased in a raw state; and was carded, spun, and in some instances woven at home. Flax, also, was often spun for the coarser kinds of linen, and occasionally woven. Thus, the mistress of a household had most important duties to fulfil, for on her wise and prudent management depended not merely the comfort, but the actual well-being of her extensive household. If the winter's stores were insufficient, there were no markets from whence an additional supply could be obtained; and the lord of wide estates and numerous manors might be reduced to the most annoying privations through the mismanagement of the mistress of the family." The "costly and delicate needle-work" is here, as elsewhere, passed over with merely a mention. It is, naturally, too insignificant a subject to task the attention of those whose energies are devoted to describing the warfare and welfare of kingdoms and thrones. Thus did we look only to professed historians, though enough exists in their pages to evidence the existence of such productions as those which form the subject of our chapter, our evidence would be meagre indeed as to the minuter details: but as the "novel" now describes those minutiæ of every day life which we should think it ridiculous to look for in the writings of the politician or historian, so the romances of the days of chivalry present us with descriptions which, if they be somewhat redundant in ornament, are still correct in groundwork; and the details gathered from romances have in, it may be, unimportant circumstances, that accidental corroboration from history which fairly stamps their faithfulness in more important particulars: and it has been shown, says the author of 'Godefridus,' by learned men, in the memoirs of the French Academy of Inscriptions, that they may be used in common with history, and as of equal authority whenever an inquiry takes place respecting the _spirit and manners of the ages_ in which they were composed. But we are writing a dissertation on romance instead of describing the "clodes ryche," to which we must now proceed. So highly was a facility in the use of the needle prized in these "ould ancient times," that a wandering damsel is not merely _tolerated_ but _cherished_ in a family in which she is a perfect stranger, solely from her skill in this much-loved art. After being exposed in an open boat, Emare was rescued by Syr Kadore, remained in his castle, and there-- "She tawghte hem to _sewe_ and _marke_ All _maner of sylkyn werke_, Of her they wer ful fayne."[41] Syr Kadore says of her-- "She ys the konnyngest wommon, I trowe, that be yn Crystendom, Of _werk_ that y have sene." And again describing her-- "She _sewed sylke_ werk yn bour." This same accomplished and luckless lady had, princess though she was, every advantage of early tuition in this notable art, having been sent in her childhood to a lady called Abro, who not only taught her "curtesye and thewe" (virtue and good manners), but also "Golde and sylke for to sewe, Amonge maydenes moo:" evidently an old dame's school; where, however, we may infer from the arrangement of the accomplishments taught, and the special mention of needlework, that the extra expense would be for the _sewing_; whereas, in our time and country (or county), the routine has been, "REDING AND SOING, THREE-PENCE A WEEK: A PENY EXTRA FOR MANNERS." This expensive and troublesome acquirement--the art of sewing in "golde and silke"--was of general adoption: gorgeous must have been the appearance of the damsels and knights of those days, when their "----Clothys wyth bestes & byrdes wer _bete_,[42] All abowte for pryde." "By that light Amadis saw his lady, and she appeared more beautiful than man could fancy woman could be. She had on a robe of _Indian silk, thickly wrought with flowers of gold_; her hair was so beautiful that it was a wonder, and she had covered it only with a garland."[43] "Now when the fair Grasinda heard of the coming of the fleet, and of all that had befallen, she made ready to receive Oriana, whom of all persons in the world she most desired to see, because of her great renown that was everywhere spread abroad. She therefore wished to appear before her like a lady of such rank and such wealth as indeed she was: the robe which she put on was adorned with _roses of gold, wrought with marvellous skill, and bordered with pearls and precious stones_ of exceeding value."[44] "His fine, soft garments, wove with cunning skill, All over, ease and wantonness declare; These with her hand, such subtle toil well taught, For him, in silk and gold, Alcina wrought."[45] "Mayde Elene, al so tyte. In a robe of samyte,[46] Anoon sche gan her tyre, To do Lybeau's profyte In kevechers whyt, Arayde wyth golde wyre. A velvwet mantyll gay, Pelored[47] wyth grys and gray Sche caste abowte her swyre; A sercle upon her molde, Of stones and of golde, The best yn that empyre."[48] We read perpetually of "kercheves well schyre,[49] "Arayde wyth ryche gold wyre." But the labours of those days were not confined to merely good-appearing garments: the skill of the needlewoman--for doubtless it was solely attributable to that--could imbue them with a value far beyond that of mere outward garnish. "She seyde, Syr Knight, gentyl and hende,[50] I wot thy stat, ord, and ende, Be naught aschamed of me; If thou wylt truly to me take, And alle wemen for me forsake Ryche i wyll make the. I wyll the geve an alner,[51] Imad of sylk and of gold cler, Wyth fayr ymages thre; As oft thou puttest the hond therinne A mark of gold thou schalt wynne, In wat place that thou be."[52] But infinitely more marvellous is the following:--"King Lisuarte was so content with the tidings of Amadis and Galaor, which the dwarf had brought him, that he determined to hold the most honourable court that ever had been held in Great Britain. Presently three knights came through the gate, two of them armed at all points, the third unarmed, of good stature and well proportioned, his hair grey, but of a green and comely old age. He held in his hand a coffer; and, having inquired which was the king, dismounted from his palfrey and kneeled before him, saying, 'God preserve you, Sir! for you have made the noblest promise that ever king did, if you hold it.' 'What promise was that?' quoth Lisuarte. 'To maintain chivalry in its highest honour and degree: few princes now-a-days labour to that end; therefore are you to be commended above all other.' 'Certes, knight, that promise shall hold while I live.' 'God grant you life to complete it!' quoth the old man: 'and because you have summoned a great court to London, I have brought something here which becomes such a person, for such an occasion.' Then he opened the coffer and took out a Crown of Gold, so curiously wrought and set with pearls and gems, that all were amazed at its beauty; and it well appeared that it was only fit for the brow of some mighty lord. 'Is it not a work which the most cunning artists would wonder at?' said the old knight. Lisuarte answered, 'In truth it is.' 'Yet,' said the knight, 'it hath a virtue more to be esteemed than its rare work and richness: whatever king hath it on his head shall always increase his honour; this it did for him for whom it was made till the day of his death: since then no king hath worn it. I will give it you, sir, for one boon.'----'You also, Lady,' said the knight, 'should purchase a rich mantle that I bring:' and he took from the coffer the richest and most beautiful mantle that ever was seen; for besides the pearls and precious stones with which it was beautified, there were figured on it all the birds and beasts in nature; so that it looked like a miracle. 'On my faith,' exclaimed the Queen, 'this cloth can only have been made by that Lord who can do everything.' 'It is the work of man,' said the old knight; 'but rarely will one be found to make its fellow: it should belong to wife rather than maiden, for she that weareth it _shall never have dispute with her husband_.' Britna answered, 'If that be true, it is above all price; I will give you for it whatsoever you ask.' And Lisuarte bade him demand what he would for the mantle and crown."[53] But the robe which occupied the busy fingers of the Saracen king's daughter for seven long years, and of which the jewelled ornaments inwrought in it--as was then very usual--were sought far and wide, has often been referred to (albeit wanting in fairy gifts) as a crowning proof of female industry and talent. We give the full description from the Romance of 'EMARE,' in Ritson's collection:-- "Sone aftur yu a whyle, The ryche Kynge of Cesyle To the Emperour gaun wende, A ryche present wyth hym he browght, A cloth that was wordylye wroght, He wellcomed hym at the hende.[54] "Syr Tergaunte, that nobyll knyghte hyghte, He presented the Emperour ryght, And sette hym on hys kne, Wyth that cloth rychyly dyght. Full of stones ther hit was pyght, At thykke as hit myght be, Off topaze and rubyes, And other stones of myche prys, That semely wer to se, Of crapowtes and nakette, As thykke ar they sette For sothe as y say the. "The cloth was displayed sone, The Emperoer lokede therupone, And myght hyt not se, For glysteryng of the ryche ston Redy syght had he non, And sayde, How may thys be? The Emperour sayde on hygh, Sertes thys ys a fayry, Or ellys a vanyte. The Kyng of Cysyle answered than, So ryche a jewell ys ther non In all Crystyante. "The amerayle[55] dowghter of hethennes Made this cloth withouten lees, And wrowghte hit all with pride, And purtreyed hyt with gret honour, Wyth ryche golde and asowr,[56] And stones on ylke a side; And, as the story telles in honde, The stones that yn this cloth stonde Sowghte they wer full wyde. Seven wynter hit was yn makynge, Or hit was browght to endynge, In herte ys not to hyde. "In that on korner made was Idoyne and Amadas, With love that was so trewe, For they loveden hem wit honour, Portrayed they wer with trewe-love flour, Of stones bryght of hewe, Wyth carbankull and safere, Kasydonys and onyx so clere, Sette in golde newe, Deamondes and rubyes, And other stones of mychyll pryse, And menstrellys with her gle. "In that other korner was dyght, Trystram and Isowde so bryght, That semely wer to se, And for they loved hem ryght, As full of stones ar they dyght, As thykke as they may be, Of topase and of rubyes, And other stones of myche pryse, That semely wer to se, With crapawtes and nakette, Thykke of stones ar they sette, For sothe as y say the. "In the thyrdde korner, with gret honour, Was Florys and dame Blawncheflour, As love was hem betwene, For they loved wyth honour, Purtrayed they wer with trewe-love-flower, With stones bryght and shene. Ther wer knyghtes and senatowres, Emerawdes of gret vertues, To wyte withouten wene, Deamondes and koralle, Perydotes and crystall, And gode garnettes bytwene. "In the fowrthe korner was oon Of Babylone the sowdan sonne, The amerayle's dowghter hym by, For hys sake the cloth was wrowght, She loved hym in hert and thowght, As testy-moyeth thys storye. The fayr mayden her byforn Was purtrayed an unykorn, With hys horn so hye, Flowres and bryddes on ylke a syde, Wyth stones that wer sowght wyde, Stuffed wyth ymagerye. "When the cloth to ende was wrought, To the sowdan sone hit was browght, That semely was of syghte: 'My fadyr was a nobyll man, Of the sowdan he hit wan, Wyth maystrye and myghth; For gret love he yaf hyt me, I brynge hit the in specyalte, Thys cloth ys rychely dyght.' He yaf hit the Emperour, He receyved hit wyth gret honour, And thonkede hym fayr and ryght." We must not dismiss this subject without recording a species of mantle much celebrated in romance, and which must have tried the skill and patience of the fair votaries of the needle to the uttermost. We all have seen, perhaps we have some of us been foolish enough to manufacture, initials with hair, as tokens or souvenirs, or some other such fooleries. In our mothers' and grandmothers' days, when "fine marking" was the _sine quâ non_ of a good education, whole sets of linen were thus elaborately marked; and often have we marvelled when these tokens of grandmotherly skill and industry were displayed to our wondering and aching eyes. What then should we have thought of King Ryence's mantle, of rich scarlet, bordered round with the beards of kings, sewed thereon full craftily by accomplished female hands. Thus runs the anecdote in the 'Morte Arthur:'-- "Came a messenger hastely from King Ryence, of North Wales, saying, that King Ryence had discomfited and overcomen eleaven kings, and everiche of them did him homage, and that was thus: they gave him their beards cleane flayne off,--wherefore the messenger came for King Arthur's beard, for King Ryence had purfeled a mantell with king's beards, and there lacked for one a place of the mantell, wherefore he sent for his beard, or else he would enter into his lands, and brenn and slay, and never leave till he have thy head and thy beard. 'Well,' said King Arther, 'thou hast said thy message, which is the most villainous and lewdest message that ever man heard sent to a king. Also thou mayest see my beard is full young yet for to make a purfell of; but tell thou the king that--or it be long--he shall do to _me_ homage on both his knees, or else he shall leese his head.'" In Queen Elizabeth's day, when they were beginning to skim the cream of the ponderous tomes of former times into those elaborate ditties from which the more modern ballad takes its rise, this incident was put into rhyme, and was sung before her majesty at the grand entertainment at Kenilworth Castle, 1575, thus:-- "As it fell out on a Pentecost day, King Arthur at Camelot kept his Court royall, With his faire queene dame Guenever the gay, And many bold barons sitting in hall; With ladies attired in purple and pall; And heraults in hewkes,[57] hooting on high, Cryed, _Largesse, largesse, Chevaliers tres hardie_. "A doughty dwarfe to the uppermost deas Right pertlye gan pricke, kneeling on knee; With steven[58] fulle stoute amids all the preas, Sayd, Nowe sir King Arthur, God save thee, and see! Sir Ryence of Northgales greeteth well thee, And bids thee thy beard anon to him send, Or else from thy jaws he will it off rend. "For his robe of state is a rich scarlet mantle, With eleven kings beards bordered about, And there is room lefte yet in a kantle,[59] For thine to stande, to make the twelfth out: This must be done, be thou never so stout; This must be done, I tell thee no fable, Maugre the teethe of all thy rounde table. "When this mortal message from his mouthe past, Great was the noyse bothe in hall and in bower, The king fum'd; the queen screecht; ladies were aghast; Princes puff'd; barons blustered; lords began lower; Knights stormed; squires startled, like steeds in a stower; Pages and yeomen yell'd out in the hall; Then in came Sir Kay, the king's seneschal. "Silence, my soveraignes, quoth this courteous knight, And in that stound the stowre began still: Then the dwarfe's dinner full deerely was dight; Of wine and wassel he had his wille: And when he had eaten and drunken his fill, An hundred pieces of fine coyned gold Were given this dwarfe for his message bold. "But say to Sir Ryence, thou dwarfe, quoth the king, That for his bold message I do him defye; And shortly with basins and pans will him ring Out of North Gales; where he and I With swords, and not razors, quickly shall trye Whether he or King Arthur will prove the best barbor: And therewith he shook his good sword Excalábor." Drayton thus alludes to the same circumstance:-- "Then told they, how himselfe great Arthur did advance, To meet (with his Allies) that puissant force in France, By Lucius thither led; those Armies that while ere Affrighted all the world, by him strooke dead with feare: Th' report of his great Acts that over Europe ran, In that most famous field he with the Emperor wan: As how great Rython's selfe hee slew in his repaire, Who ravisht Howell's Neece, young Helena the faire; And for a trophy brought the Giant's coat away, Made of the beards of kings."[60]---- And Spenser is too uncourteous in his adoption of the incident; for he not only levels tolls on the gentlemen's beards, but even on the flowing and golden locks of the gentle sex:-- "Not farre from hence, upon yond rocky hill, Hard by a streight there stands a castle strong, Which doth observe a custom lewd and ill, And it hath long mayntaind with mighty wrong: For may no knight nor lady passe along That way, (and yet they needs must passe that way, By reason of the streight, and rocks among,) But they that Ladies locks doe shave away, And that knight's berd for toll, which they for passage pay. "A shamefull use, as ever I did heare, Said Calidore, and to be overthrowne. But by what means did they at first it reare, And for what cause, tell, if thou have it knowne. Sayd then that Squire: The Lady which doth owne This Castle is by name Briana hight; Then which a prouder Lady liveth none; She long time hath deare lov'd a doughty knight, And sought to win his love by all the meanes she might. "His name is Crudor, who through high disdaine And proud despight of his selfe-pleasing mynd, Refused hath to yeeld her love againe, Untill a Mantle she for him doe fynd, With beards of knights and locks of Ladies lynd, Which to provide, she hath this Castle dight, And therein hath a Seneschall assynd, Cald Maleffort, a man of mickle might, Who executes her wicked will, with worse despight."[61] "To pluck the beard" of another has ever been held the highest possible sign of scorn and contumely; but it was certainly a refinement on the matter, for which we are indebted to the Morte Arthur, or rather probably, according to Bishop Percy, to Geoffrey of Monmouth's history originally, for the unique and ornamental purpose to which these despoiled locks were applied. So particularly anxious was Charlemagne to shew this despite to an enemy that, as we read in Huon de Bordeaux, he despatched no less than fifteen successive messengers from France to Babylon to pull the beard of Admiral Gaudisse. And this, by no means pleasant operation, was to be accompanied by one even still less inviting. "Alors le duc Naymes, & tres tous les Barons, s'en retournèrent au palais avec le Roy, lequel s'assist sur un banc doré de fin or, & les Barons tous autour de luy. Si commanda qu'on luy amenast Huon, lequel il vint, et se mist à genoux devant le roy, ou luy priant moult humblement que pitié & mercy voulsist avoir de luy. Alors le roy le voyant en sa presence luy dist: Huon puisque vers moy veux estre accordé, si convient que faciez ce que je vous or donneray. Sire, ce dist Huon, pour obeir à vous, il n'est aujourd'huy chose en ce monde mortel, que corps humain puisse porter, que hardiment n'osasse entreprendre, ne ia pour peur de mort ne le laisseray à faire, & fust à aller jusques à l'arbre sec, voire jusques aux portaux d'enfer combattre aux infernaux, comme fist le fort Hercule: avant qu'à vous ne fusse accordé. Huon, ce dist Charles, je cuide qu'en pire lieu vous envoyeray, car, de quinze messages qui de par moy y ont este envoyez, n'en est par revenu un seul homme. Si te diray ou tu iras, puis que tu veux qui de toy aye mercy, m'a volonté est, qu'il te convient aller en la cité de Babylonne, par devers diray, & gardes que sur ta vie ne face faute, quand là seras venu tu monteras en son palais, là ou tu attendras l'heure de son disner & que tu le verras assis à table. Si convient que tu sois armé de toutes armes, l'espee nuë au poing, par tel si que le premier & le plus grand baron que tu verras manger à sa table tu luy trencheras le chef quel qu'il soit, soit Roy, ou Admiral. Et apres ce te convient tant faire que la belle Esclarmonde fille à l'Amiral Gaudisse tu fiances, & la baises trois fois en la presence de son pere, & de tous sous qui la seront presens, car je veux que tu sçaches que c'est la plus belle pucelle qu'aujourd'huy soit en vie, puis apres diras de par moy à l'Admiral qu'il m'envoye mille espreuiers, mille ours, mille viautres, tous enchainez, & mille jeune valets, & mille des plus belles pucelles de son royaume, & avecques ce, convient _que tu me rapportes une poignee de sa barbe, et quatre de ses dents machoires_. Ha! Sire, dirent les Barons, bien desirez sa mort, quant de tel message faire luy enchargez, vous dites la verité ce dit le Roy, car si tant ne fait que j'aye la barbe & les dents machoires sans aucune tromperie ne mensonge, jamais ne retourne en France, ne devant moi ne se monstre. Car je le ferois pendre & trainer. Sire, ce dit Huon, m'avez vous dit & racompté tout ce que voulez que je face. Oui dist le Roy Charles ma volonté est telle, si vers moy veux avoir paix. Sire ce dit Huon, au plaisir de nostre Seigneur, je feray & fourniray vostre message." In what precise way the beards were sewed on the mantles we are not exactly informed. Whether this royal exuberance was left to shine in its own unborrowed lustre, its own naked magnificence, as too valuable to be intermixed with the grosser things of earth: whether it was thinly scattered over the surface of the "rich scarlet;" or whether it was gathered into locks, perhaps gemmed round with orient pearl, or clustered together with brilliant emeralds, sparkling diamonds, or rich rubies--"Sweets to the sweet:" whether it was exposed to the vulgar gaze on the mantle, or whether it was so arranged that only at the pleasure of the mighty wearer its radiant beauties were visible:--on all these deeply interesting particulars we should rejoice in having any information; but, alas! excepting what we have recorded, not one circumstance respecting them has "floated down the tide of years." But we may perhaps form a correct idea of them from viewing a shield of human hair in the museum of the United Service Club, which may be supposed to have been _compiled_ (so to speak) with the same benevolent feelings as that of the heroes to whom we have been alluding. It is from Borneo Island, and is formed of locks of hair placed at regular intervals on a ground of thin tough wood: a refined and elegant mode of displaying the scalps of slaughtered foes. These coincidences are curious, and may serve at any rate to show that King Ryence's mantle was not the _invention_ of the penman; but, in all probability, actually existed. The ladies of these days did not confine their handiwork merely to the adornment of the person. We have seen that among the Egyptians the couches that at night were beds were in the daytime adorned with richly wrought coverlets. So amongst the classical nations "------the menial fair that round her wait, At Helen's beck prepare the room of state; Beneath an ample portico they spread The downy fleece to form the slumberous bed; And o'er soft palls of purple grain, unfold _Rich tapestry, stiff with inwoven gold_." And during the middle ages the beds, not excluded from the day apartments, often gave gorgeous testimony of the skill of the needlewoman, and were among the richest ornaments of the sitting room, so much fancy and expense were lavished on them. The curtains were often made of very rich material, and usually adorned with embroidery. They were often also trimmed with expensive furs: Philippa of Hainault had a bed on which sea-syrens were embroidered. The coverlid was often very rich: "The ladi lay in hire bed, With riche clothes bespred, Of gold and purpre palle."[62] "Here beds are seen adorned with silk and gold."[63] "------on a bed design'd With gay magnificence the fair reclin'd; High o'er her head, on silver columns rais'd, With broidering gems her proud pavilion blaz'd." "Thence pass'd into a bow'r, where stood a bed, With milkwhite furs of Alexandria spread: Beneath, a richly broider'd vallance hung; The pillows were of silk; o'er all was flung A rare wrought coverlet of phoenix plumes, Which breathed, as warm with life, its rich perfumes."[64] The array of the knights of these days was gorgeous and beautiful; and though the materials might be in themselves, and frequently were costly, still were they entirely indebted to the female hand for the rich elegance of the _tout ensemble_. And the custom of disarming and robing knights anew after the conflict, whether of real or mimic war, to which we have alluded as a practice of classical antiquity, was as much or even more practised now, and afforded to the ladies an admirable opportunity of exhibiting alike their preference, their taste, and their liberality. "Amadis and Agrayes proceeded till they came to the castle of Torin, the dwelling of that fair young damsel, where they were disarmed and mantles given them, and they were conducted into the hall."[65] "Thus they arrived at the palace, and there was he (the Green Sword Knight) lodged in a rich chamber, and was disarmed, and his hands and face washed from the dust, and they gave him a rose-coloured mantle."[66] The romance of "Ywaine and Gawin" abounds in instances: "A damisel come unto me, The semeliest that ever I se, Lufsumer lifed never in land, Hendly scho toke me by the hand, And sone that gentyl creature Al unlaced myne armure; Into a chamber scho me led, And with a mantil scho me cled; It was of purpur, fair and fine; And the pane of ermyne." Again-- "The maiden redies hyr fal rath,[67] Bilive sho gert syr Ywaine bath, And cled him sethin[68] in gude scarlet, Forord wele with gold fret, A girdel ful riche for the nanes, Of perry[69] and of precious stanes." And-- "The mayden was bowsom and bayne[70] Forto unarme syr Ywayne, Serk and breke both sho hym broght, That ful craftily war wroght, Of riche cloth soft als the sylk, And tharto white als any mylk. Sho broght hym ful riche wedes to wer." On the widely acknowledged principle of "Love me, love my dog," the steed of a favoured knight was often adorned by the willing fingers of the fair. "Each damsel and each dame who her obeyed, She task'd, together with herself, to sew, With subtle toil; and with fine gold o'erlaid A piece of silk of white and sable hue: With this she trapt the horse."[71] The tabards or surcoats which knights wore over their armour was the article of dress in which they most delighted to display their magnificence. They varied in form, but were mostly made of rich silk, or of cloth of gold or silver, lined or trimmed with choice and expensive furs, and usually, also, having the armorial bearings of the family richly embroidered. Thus were women even the heralds of those times. Besides the acknowledged armorial bearings, devices were often wrought symbolical of some circumstance in the life of the wearer. Thus we are told in Amadis that the Emperor of Rome, on his black surcoat, had a golden chain-work woven, which device he swore never to lay aside till he had Amadis in chains. The same romance gives the following incident regarding a surcoat. "Then Amadis cried to Florestan and Agrayes, weeping as he spake, good kinsman, I fear we have lost Don Galaor, let us seek for him. They went to the spot where Amadis had smitten down King Cildadan, and seen his brother last on foot; but so many were the dead who lay there that they saw him not, till as they moved away the bodies, Florestan knew him by the sleeve of his _surcoat_, which was of azure, worked with silver flowers, and then they made great moan over him." The shape of them, as we have remarked, varied considerably; besides minor alterations they were at one time worn very short, at another so long as to trail on the ground. But this luxurious style was occasionally attended with direful effects. Froissart names a surcoat in which Sir John Chandos was attired, which was embroidered with his arms in white sarsnet, argent a field gules, one on his back and another on his breast. It was a long robe which swept the ground, and this circumstance, most probably, caused the untimely death of one of the most esteemed knights of chivalry. Sir John Chandos was one of the brightest of that chivalrous circle which sparkled in the reign of Edward the Third. He was gentle as well as valiant; he was in the van with the Black Prince at the battle of Cressy; and at the battle of Poictiers he never left his side. His death was unlooked for and sudden. Some disappointments had depressed his spirits, and his attendants in vain endeavoured to cheer them. "And so he stode in a kechyn, warmyng him by the fyre, and his servantes jangled with hym, to {thentent} to bring him out of his melancholy; his servantes had prepared for hym a place to rest hym: than he demanded if it were nere day, and {therewith} there {came} a man into the house, and came before hym, and sayd, 'Sir, I have brought you tidynges.' 'What be they, tell me?' 'Sir, surely the {frenchmen} be rydinge abrode.' 'How knowest thou that?' 'Sir,' sayd he, 'I departed fro saynt Saluyn with them.' 'What way be they ryden?' 'Sir, I can nat tell you the certentie, but surely they take the highway to Poiters.' 'What {Frenchmen} be they; canst thou tell me?' 'Sir, it is Sir Loys of Saynt Julyan, and Carlovet the Breton.' 'Well, quoth Sir Johan Chandos, I care nat, I have no lyst this night to ryde forthe: they may happe to be {encountred} though I be nat ther.' "And so he taryed there styll a certayne space in a gret study, and at last, when he had well aduysed hymselfe, he sayde, 'Whatsoever I have sayd here before, I trowe it be good that I ryde forthe; I must retourne to Poictiers, and anone it will be day.' 'That is true sir,' quoth the knightes about hym. 'Then,' he sayd, 'make redy, for I wyll ryde forthe.' "And so they dyd." The skirmish commenced; there had fallen a great dew in the morning, in consequence of which the ground was very slippery; the knight's foot slipped, and in trying to recover himself, it became entangled in the folds of his magnificent _surcoat_; thus the fall was rendered irretrievable, and whilst he was down he received his death blow. The barons and knights were sorely grieved. They "lamentably complayned, and sayd, 'A, Sir Johan Chandos, the floure of all chivalry, vnhappely was that glayue forged that thus hath {wounded} you, and brought you in parell of dethe:' they wept piteously that were about hym, and he herde and vnderstode them well, but he could speke no worde."--"For his dethe, his frendes, and also some of his enemyes, were right soroufull; the Englysshmen loued hym, bycause all noblenesse was founde in hym; the frenchmen hated him, because they doubted hym; yet I herde his dethe greatly complayned among right noble and valyant knightes of France[72]." Across this surcoat was worn the scarf, the indispensable appendage of a knight when fully equipped: it was usually the gift of his "ladye-love," and embroidered by her own fair hand. And a knight would encounter fifty deaths sooner than part with this cherished emblem. It is recorded of Garcia Perez de Vargas, a noble-minded Spanish knight of the thirteenth century, that he and a companion were once suddenly met by a party of seven Moors. His friend fled: but not so Perez; he at once prepared himself for the combat, and while keeping the Moors at bay, who hardly seemed inclined to fight, he found that his scarf had fallen from his shoulder. "He look'd around, and saw the Scarf, for still the Moors were near, And they had pick'd it from the sward, and loop'd it on a spear. 'These Moors,' quoth Garci Perez, 'uncourteous Moors they be-- Now, by my soul, the scarf they stole, yet durst not question me! "'Now, reach once more my helmet.' The Esquire said him, nay, 'For a silken string why should you fling, perchance, your life away?' 'I had it from my lady,' quoth Garci, 'long ago, And never Moor that scarf, be sure, in proud Seville shall show.' "But when the Moslems saw him, they stood in firm array: He rode among their armed throng, he rode right furiously. 'Stand, stand, ye thieves and robbers, lay down my lady's pledge,' He cried, and ever as he cried, they felt his faulchion's edge. "That day when the lord of Vargas came to the camp alone, The scarf, his lady's largess, around his breast was thrown: Bare was his head, his sword was red, and from his pommel strung Seven turbans green, sore hack'd I ween, before Garci Perez hung." It casts a redeeming trait on this butchering sort or bravery to find that when the hero returned to the camp he steadily refused to reveal the name of the person who had so cravenly deserted him. But the favours which ladies presented to a knight were various; consisting of "jewels, ensigns of noblesse, scarfs, hoods, sleeves, mantles, bracelets, knots of ribbon; in a word, some detached part of their dress." These he always placed conspicuously on his person, and defended, as he would have done his life. Sometimes a lock of his fair one's hair inspired the hero: "Than did he her heere unfolde, And on his helme it set on hye, With rede thredes of ryche golde, Whiche he had of his lady. Full richely his shelde was wrought, With asure stones and beten golde, But on his lady was his thought, The yelowe heere what he dyd beholde."[73] It is recorded in "Perceforest," that at the end of one tournament "the ladies were so stripped of their head attire, that the greatest part of them were quite bareheaded, and appeared with their hair spread over their shoulders yellower than the finest gold; their robes also were without sleeves; for all had been given to adorn the knights; hoods, cloaks, kerchiefs, stomachers, and mantuas. But when they beheld themselves in this woful plight, they were greatly abashed, till, perceiving every one was in the same condition, they joined in laughing at this adventure, and that they should have engaged with such vehemence in stripping themselves of their clothes from off their backs, as never to have perceived the loss of them." A sleeve (more easily detached than we should fancy those of the present day) was a very usual token. Elayne, the faire mayden of Astolat gave Syr Launcelot "a reed sleeve of scarlet wel embroudred with grete perlys," which he wore for a token on his helmet; and in real life it is recorded that in a serious, but not desperate battle, at the court of Burgundy, in 1445, one of the knights received from his lady a sleeve of delicate dove colour, elegantly embroidered; and he fastened this favour on his left arm. Chevalier Bayard being declared victor at the tournament of Carignan, in Piedmont, he refused, from extreme delicacy, to receive the reward assigned him, saying, "The honour he had gained was solely owing to the sleeve, which a lady had given him, adorned with a ruby worth a hundred ducats." The sleeve was brought back to the lady in the presence of her husband; who knowing the admirable character of the chevalier, conceived no jealousy on the occasion: "The ruby," said the lady, "shall be given to the knight who was the next in feats of arms to the chevalier; but since he does me so much honour as to ascribe his victory to my sleeve, for the love of him I will keep it all my life." Another important adjunct to the equipment of a knight was the pennon; an ensign or streamer formed of silk, linen, or stuff, and fixed to the top of the lance. If the expedition of the soldier had for its object the Holy Land, the sacred emblem of the cross was embroidered on the pennon, otherwise it usually bore the owner's crest, or, like the surcoat, an emblematic allusion to some circumstance in the owner's life. Thus, Chaucer, in the "Knighte's Tale," describes that of Duke Theseus: "And by his banner borne is his _penon_ Of gold ful riche, in which ther was ybete The Minotaure which that he slew in Crete." The account of the taking of Hotspur's pennon, and his attempt at its recapture, is abridged by Mr. Mills[74] from Froissart. It is interesting, as displaying the temper of the times about these comparatively trifling matters, and being the record of history, may tend to justify our quotations of a similar nature from romance. "In the reign of Richard the Second, the Scots commanded by James, Earl of Douglas, taking advantage of the troubles between the King and his Parliament, poured upon the south. When they were sated with plunder and destruction they rested at Newcastle, near the English force which the Earl of Northumberland and other border chieftains had hastily levied. "The Earl's two sons were young and lusty knights, and ever foremost at the barriers to skirmish. Many proper feats of arms were done and achieved. The fighting was hand to hand. The noblest encounter was that which occurred between the Earl Douglas and Sir Henry Percy, surnamed Hotspur. The Scot won the pennon of his foeman; and in the triumph of his victory he proclaimed that he would carry it to Scotland, and set it on high on his castle of Dalkeith, that it might be seen afar off. "Percy indignantly replied, that Douglas should not pass the border without being met in a manner which would give him no cause for boasting. "With equal spirit the Earl Douglas invited him that night to his lodging to seek for his pennon. "The Scots then retired and kept careful watch, lest the taunts of their leader should urge the Englishmen to make an attack. Percy's spirit burnt to efface his reproach, but he was counselled into calmness. "The Scots then dislodged, seemingly resolved to return with all haste to their own country. But Otterbourn arrested their steps. The castle resisted the assault; and the capture of it would have been of such little value to them that most of the Scotch knights wished that the enterprise should be abandoned. "Douglas commanded, however, that the assault should be persevered in, and he was entirely influenced by his chivalric feelings. He contended that the very difficulty of the enterprise was the reason of undertaking it; and he wished not to be too far from Sir Henry Percy, lest that gallant knight should not be able to do his devoir in redeeming his pledge of winning the pennon of his arms again. "Hotspur longed to follow Douglas and redeem his badge of honour; but the sage knights of the country, and such as were well expert in arms, spoke against his opinion, and said to him, 'Sir, there fortuneth in war oftentimes many losses. If the Earl Douglas has won your pennon, he bought it dear, for he came to the gate to seek it, and was well beaten: another day you shall win as much of him and more. Sir, we say this because we know well that all the power of Scotland is abroad in the fields; and if we issue forth and are not strong enough to fight with them (and perchance they have made this skirmish with us to draw us out of the town), they may soon enclose us, and do with us what they will. It is better to loose a pennon than two or three hundred knights and squires, and put all the country to adventure.'" By such words as these, Hotspur and his brother were refrained, but the coveted moment came. "The hostile banners waved in the night breeze, and the bright moon, which had been more wont to look upon the loves than the wars of chivalry, lighted up the Scottish camp. A battle ensued of as valiant a character as any recorded in the pages of history; for there was neither knight nor squire but what did his devoir and fought hand to hand." The Scots remained masters of the field: but the Douglas was slain, and this loss could not be recompensed even by the capture of the Percy. Little did the "gentle Kate" anticipate this catastrophe when her fairy fingers with proud and loving alacrity embroidered on the flowing pennon the inspiring watchword of her chivalric husband and his noble family--ESPERANCE. FOOTNOTES: [40] Historical Memoirs of Queens of England.--H. Lawrance. [41] Emare. [42] _Bete_--inlayed, embroidered. [43] Amadis of Gaul, bk. i. ch. xv. [44] Ibid. bk. iv. ch. iii. [45] Orl. Fur.: transl. by Rose. [46] _Samyte_--rich silk. [47] _Pelored_--furred. [48] Lybeaus Disconus. [49] _Schyre_--clear. [50] _Hende_--kind, obliging. [51] _Alner_--pouch, bag or purse. [52] Launfal. [53] Amadis of Gaul, bk. i. ch. xxx. [54] _Hende_--kind, civil, obliging. [55] Saracen king. [56] _Asowr_--azure. [57] _Hewke_--herald's coat. [58] _Steven_--voice, sound [59] _Kantle_--a corner. [60] Drayton's Polyolbion, Song 4. [61] Faerie Queene. Book vi. [62] The Kyng of Tars. [63] Orl. Fur. [64] Partenopex of Blois. [65] Amadis of Gaul. [66] Ibid. [67] _Rath_--speedily. [68] _Sethin_--afterward. [69] _Perry_--jewels. [70] _Bayne_--ready. [71] Orl. Fur., canto 23. [72] Froissart, by Lord Berners, vol. i. p. 270. [73] The Fair Lady of Faguell. [74] Hist. Chivalry. CHAPTER XI. TAPESTRY. The term _tapestry_ or _tapistry_ (from _tapisser_, to line, from the Latin word _tapes_, a cover of a wall or bed), is now appropriated solely to woven hangings of wool and silk; but it has been applied to all sorts of hangings, whether wrought entirely with the needle (as originally indeed all were) or in the loom, whether composed of canvass and wool, or of painted cloth, leather, or even paper. This wide application of the term seems to be justified by the derivation quoted above, but its present use is much more limited. In the thirteenth century the decorative arts had attained a high perfection in England. The palace of Westminster received, under the fostering patronage of Henry III., a series of decorations, the remains of which, though long hidden, have recently excited the wonder and admiration of the curious.[75] "Near this monastery (says an ancient Itinerary) stands the most famous royal palace of England; in which is that celebrated chamber, on whose walls all the warlike histories of the whole Bible are painted with inexpressible skill, and explained by a regular and complete series of texts, beautifully written in French over each battle, to the no small admiration of the beholder, and the increase of royal magnificence." Round the walls of St. Stephen's chapel effigies of the Apostles were painted in oil; (which was thus used with perfectness and skill two centuries before its presumed discovery by John ab Eyck in 1410,) on the western side was a grand composition of the day of Judgment: St. Edward's or the "Painted Chamber," derived the latter name from the quality and profuseness of its embellishments, and the walls of the whole palace were decorated with portraits or ideal representations, and historical subjects. Nor was this the earliest period in which connected passages of history were painted on the wainscot of apartments, for the following order, still extant, refers to the _renovation_ of what must previously--and at some considerable interval of time probably, have been done. "Anno, 1233, 17 Hen. 3. Mandatum est Vicecomiti South'ton quod Cameram regis lambruscatam de castro Winton depingi faciat eisdem historiis quibus fuerat pri'us depicta." About 1312, Langton, Bishop of Litchfield, commanded the coronation, marriages, wars, and funeral of his patron King Edward I., to be painted in the great hall of his episcopal palace, which he had newly built. Chaucer frequently refers to this custom of painting the walls with historical or fanciful designs. "And soth to faine my chambre was Ful wel depainted---- And all the wals with colours fine Were painted bothe texte and glose, And all the Romaunt of the Rose." And again:-- "But when I woke all was ypast, For ther nas lady ne creture, Save on the wals old portraiture Of horsemen, hawkis, and houndis, And hurt dere all ful of woundis." Often emblematical devices were painted, which gave the artist opportunity to display his fancy and exercise his wit. Dr. Cullum, in his History of Hawsted, gives an account of an old mansion, having a closet, the panels of which were painted with various sentences, emblems, and mottos. One of these, intended doubtless as a hint to female vanity, is a painter, who having begun to sketch out a female portrait, writes "Dic mihi qualis eris." But comfort, or at least a degree of comfort, had progressed hand in hand with decoration. Tapestry, that is to say needlework tapestry, which, like the Bayeux tapestry of Matilda, had been used solely for the decoration of altars, or the embellishment of other parts of sacred edifices on occasions of festival, or the performance of solemn rites, had been of much more general application amongst the luxurious inhabitants of the South, and was introduced into England as furniture hanging by Eleanor of Castile. In Chaucer's time it was common. Among his pilgrims to Canterbury is a tapestry worker who is mentioned in the Prologue, in common with other "professors." "An haberdasher and a carpenter, A webbe, a dyer, and a tapiser." And, again:-- "I wol give him all that falles To his chambre and to his halles, I will do painte him with pure golde, And _tapite_ hem ful many a folde." These modes of decorating the walls and chambers with paintings, and with tapestry, were indeed contemporaneous; though the greater difficulty of obtaining the latter--for as it was not made at Arras until the fourteenth century, all that we here refer to is the painful product of the needle alone--many have made it less usual and common than the former. Pithy sentences, and metrical stanzas were often wrought in tapestry: in Wresil Castle and other mansions, some of the apartments were adorned in the Oriental manner with metrical descriptions called Proverbs. And Warton mentions an ancient suit of tapestry, containing Ariosto's Orlando, and Angelica, where, at every group, the story was all along illustrated with short lines in Provençal or old French. It could only be from its superior comfort that an article so tedious in manufacture as needlework tapestry could be preferred to the more quickly-produced decorations of the pencil; it was also rude in design; and the following description of some tapestry in an old Manor House in King John's time, though taken from a work of fiction, probably presents a correct picture of the style of most of the pieces exhibited in the mansions of the middle ranks at that period. "In a corner of the apartment stood a bed, the tapestry of which was enwrought with gaudy colours representing Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. Adam was presenting our first mother with a large yellow apple, gathered from a tree that scarcely reached his knee. Beneath the tree was an angel milking, and although the winged milkman sat on a stool, yet his head overtopped both cow and tree, and nearly covered a horse, which seemed standing on the highest branches. To the left of Eve appeared a church; and a dark robed gentleman holding something in his hand which looked like a pincushion, but doubtless was intended for a book: he seemed pointing to the holy edifice, as if reminding them that they were not yet married. On the ground lay the rib, out of which Eve (who stood the head higher than Adam) had been formed; both of them were very respectably clothed in the ancient Saxon costume; even the angel wore breeches, which, being blue, contrasted well with his flaming red wings." No one who has read the real blunders of artists and existing anachronisms in pictures detailed in "Percy Anecdotes," will think the above sketch at all too highly coloured; though doubtless the tapestry hangings introduced by Queen Eleanor which would be imitated and caricatured in ten thousand different forms, were in much superior style. The Moors had attained to the highest perfection in the decorative arts, and from them did the Spaniards borrow this fashion of hangings,[76] and "the coldness of our climate (says her accomplished biographer, Miss Agnes Strickland, speaking of Eleanor,) must have made it indispensable to the fair daughter of the South, chilled with the damp stone walls of English Gothic halls and chambers." Of the chillness of these walls we may form some idea, from a feeling description of a residence which was thought sufficient for a queen some centuries later. In the year 1586, Mary, the unhappy Queen of Scots, writes thus:-- "In regard to my lodging, my residence is a place inclosed with walls, situated on an eminence, and consequently exposed to all the winds and storms of heaven. Within this inclosure there is, like as at Vincennes, a very old hunting seat, built of wood and plaister, with chinks on all sides, with the uprights; the intervals between which are not properly filled up, and the plaister dilapidated in the various places. The house is about six yards distant from the walls, and so low that the terrace on the other side is as high as the house itself, so that neither the sun nor the fresh air can penetrate it at that side. The damp, however, is so great there, that every article of furniture is covered with mouldiness in the space of four days.--In a word, the rooms for the most part are fit rather for a dungeon for the lowest and most abject criminals, than for a residence of a person of my rank, or even of a much inferior condition. I have for my own accommodation only wretched little rooms, and so cold, that were it not for the protection of the curtains and tapestries which I have had put up, I could not endure it by day, and still less by night."[77] The tapestries, whether wrought or woven, did not remain on the walls as do the hangings of modern days: it was the primitive office of the grooms of the chamber to hang up the tapestry which in a royal progress was sent forward with the purveyor and grooms of the chamber. And if these functionaries had not, to use a proverbial expression, "heads on their shoulders," ridiculous or perplexing blunders were not unlikely to arise. Of the latter we have an instance recorded by the Duc de Sully. "The King (Henry IV.) had not yet quitted Monceaux, when the Cardinal of Florence, who had so great a hand in the treaty of the Vervins, passed through Paris, as he came back from Picardy, and to return from thence to Rome, after he had taken leave of his Majesty. The king sent me to Paris to receive him, commanding me to pay him all imaginable honours. He had need of a person near the Pope, so powerful as this Cardinal, who afterwards obtained the Pontificate himself: I therefore omitted nothing that could answer His Majesty's intentions; and the legate, having an inclination to see St. Germain-en-Laye, I sent orders to Momier, the keeper of the castle, to hang the halls and chambers with the finest tapestry of the Crown. Momier executed my orders with great punctuality, but with so little judgment, that for the legate's chamber he chose a suit of hangings made by the Queen of Navarre; very rich, indeed, but which represented nothing but emblems and mottos against the Pope and the Roman Court, as satirical as they were ingenious. The prelate endeavoured to prevail upon me to accept a place in the coach that was to carry him to St. Germain, which I refused, being desirous of getting there before him, that I might see whether everything was in order; with which I was very well pleased. I saw the blunder of the keeper, and reformed it immediately. The legate would not have failed to look upon such a mistake as a formed design to insult him, and to have represented it as such to the Pope. Reflecting afterwards, that no difference in religion could authorise such sarcasms, I caused all those mottos to be effaced."[78] In the sixteenth century[79] a sort of hanging was introduced, which, partaking of the nature both of tapestry and painting on the walls, was a formidable rival to the former. Shakspeare frequently alludes to these "painted cloths." For instance, when Falstaff persuades Hostess Quickly, not only to withdraw her arrest, but also to make him a further loan: she says-- "By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain to pawn both my plate and the _tapestry_ of my dining chambers!" Falstaff answers-- "Glasses, glasses is the only drinking, and for thy walls a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the Prodigal, or a German Hunting in water-work, is worth a thousand of these fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pounds if thou canst. If it were not for thy humours, there is not a better wench in England! Go wash thy face and draw thy action." In another passage of the play he says that his troops are "as ragged as Lazarus in the _painted cloth_." There are now at Hampton Court eight large pieces or hangings of this description; being "The Triumphs of Julius Cæsar," in water-colours, on cloth, and in good preservation. They are by Andrea Mantegna, and were valued at 1000_l._ at the time, when, by some strange circumstance, the Cartoons of Raphael were estimated only at 300_l._ Tapestry was common in the East at a very remote era, when the most grotesque compositions and fantastic combinations were usually displayed on it. Some authors suppose that the Greeks took their ideas of griffins, centaurs, &c., from these Tapestries, which, together with the art of making them, they derived from the East, and at first they closely imitated both the beauties and deformities of their patterns. At length their refined taste improved upon these originals; and the old grotesque combinations were confined to the borders of the hanging, the centre of which displayed a more regular and systematic representation. It has been supposed by some writers that the invention of Tapestry, passed from the East into Europe; but Guicciardini ascribes it to the Netherlanders; and assuredly the Bayeux Tapestry, the work of the Conqueror's Queen, shows that this art must have acquired much perfection in Europe before the time of the Crusades, which is the time assigned by many for its introduction there. Probably Guicciardini refers to woven Tapestry, which was not practised until the article itself had become, from custom, a thing of necessity. Unintermitting and arduous had been the stitchery practised in the creation of these coveted luxuries long, very long before the loom was taught to give relief to the busy finger. The first manufactories of Tapestry of any note were those of Flanders, established there long before they were attempted in France or England. The chief of these were at Brussels, Antwerp, Oudenarde, Lisle, Tournay, Bruges, and Valenciennes. At Brussels and Antwerp they succeeded well both in the design and the execution of human figures and animals, and also in landscapes. At Oudenarde the landscape was more imitated, and they did not succeed so well in the figure. The other manufactories, always excepting those of Arras, were inferior to these. The grand era of general manufactories in France must be fixed in the reign of Henry the IV. Amongst others he especially devoted his attention to the manufacture of Tapestry, and that of the Gobelins, since so celebrated, was begun, though futilely, in his reign. His celebrated minister, Sully, was entangled in these matters somewhat more than he himself approved. 1605. "I laid, by his order, the foundations of the new edifices for his Tapestry weavers, in the horse-market. His Majesty sent for Comans and La Planche, from other countries, and gave them the care and superintendence of these manufactures: the new directors were not long before they made complaints, and disliked their situation, either because they did not find profits equal to their hopes and expectations, or, that having advanced considerable sums themselves, they saw no great probability of getting them in again. The king got rid of their importunity by referring them to me."[80] 1607. "It was a difficult matter to agree upon a price with these celebrated Flemish tapestry workers, which we had brought into France at so great an expense. At length it was resolved in the presence of Sillery and me, that a 100,000_l._ should be given them for their establishment. Henry was very solicitous about the payment of this sum; 'Having,' said he, 'a great desire to keep them, and not to lose the advances we have made.' He would have been better pleased if these people could have been paid out of some other funds than those which he had reserved for himself: however, there was a necessity for satisfying them at any price whatever. His Majesty made use of his authority to oblige De Vienne to sign an acquittal to the undertakers for linen cloth in imitation of Dutch Holland. This prince ordered a complete set of furniture to be made for him, which he sent for me to examine separately, to know if they had not imposed upon him. _These things were not at all in my taste_, and I was but a very indifferent judge of them: the price seemed to me to be excessive, as well as the quantity. Henry was of another opinion: after examining the work, and reading my paper, he wrote to me that there was not too much, and that they had not exceeded his orders; and that he had never seen so beautiful a piece of work before, and that the workman must be paid his demands immediately."[81] The manufactory languished however, even if it did not become entirely extinct. But it was revived in the reign of Louis XIV., and has since dispersed productions of unequalled delicacy over the civilised world. It was called "Gobelins," because the house in the suburbs of Paris, where the manufacture is carried on, was built by brothers whose names were Giles and John Gobelins, both excellent dyers, and who brought to Paris in the reign of Francis I. the secret of dying a beautiful scarlet colour, still known by their name. In the year 1667 this place, till then called "Gobelines' Folly," changed its name into that of "Hotel Royal des Gobelins," in consequence of an edict of Louis XIV. M. Colbert having re-established, and with new magnificence enriched and completed the king's palaces, particularly the Louvre and the Tuilleries, began to think of making furniture suitable to the grandeur of those buildings; with this view he called together all the ablest workmen in the divers arts and manufactures throughout the kingdom; particularly painters, tapestry makers from Flanders, sculptors, goldsmiths, ebonists, &c., and by liberal encouragement and splendid pensions called others from foreign nations. The king purchased the Gobelins for them to work in, and laws and articles were drawn up, amongst which is one that no other tapestry work shall be imported from any other country. Nor did there need; for the Gobelins has ever since remained the first manufactory of this kind in the world. The quantity of the finest and noblest works that have been produced by it, and the number of the best workmen bred up therein are incredible; and the present flourishing condition of the arts and manufactures of France is, in great measure, owing thereto. Tapestry work in particular is their glory. During the superintendence of M. Colbert, and his successor M. de Louvois, the making of tapestry is said to have been practised to the highest degree of perfection. The celebrated painter, Le Brun, was appointed chief director, and from his designs were woven magnificent hangings of Alexander's Battles--The Four Seasons--the Four Elements--and a series of the principal actions of the life of Louis XIV. M. de Louvois, during his administration, caused tapestries to be made after the most beautiful originals in the king's cabinet, after Raphael and Julio Romano, and other celebrated Italian painters. Not the least interesting part of the process was that performed by the _rentrayeurs_, or fine-drawers, who so unite the breadths of the tapestry into one picture that no seam is discernible, but the whole appears like one design. The French have had other considerable manufactories at Auvergne, Felletin and Beauvais, but all sank beneath the superiority of the Gobelins, which indeed at one time outvied the renown of that far-famed town, whose productions gave a title to the whole species, viz., that of Arras. Walpole gives an intimation of the introduction of tapestry weaving into England, so early as the reign of Edward III., "De inquirendo de mysterâ Tapiciorum, London;" but usually William Sheldon, Esq., is considered the introducer of it, and he allowed an artist, named Robert Hicks, the use of his manor-house at Burcheston, in Warwickshire; and in his will, dated 1570, he calls Hicks "the only auter and beginner of tapistry and arras within this realm." At his house were four maps of Oxford, Worcester, Warwick, and Gloucestershires, executed in tapestry on a large scale, fragments of which are or were among the curiosities of Strawberry-hill. We meet with little further notice of this establishment. This beautiful art was, however, revived in the reign of James I., and carried to great perfection under the patronage of himself and his martyr son. It received its death blow in common with other equally beautiful and more important pursuits during the triumph of the Commonwealth. James gave £2000 to assist Sir Francis Crane in the establishment of the manufactory at Mortlake, in Surry, which was commenced in the year 1619. Towards the end of this reign, Francis Cleyn, or Klein, a native of Rostock, in the duchy of Mecklenburg, was employed in forming designs for this institution, which had already attained great perfection. Charles allowed him £100 a year, as appears from Rymer's Foedera: "Know ye that we do give and grant unto Francis Cleyne a certain annuitie of one hundred pounds, by the year, during his natural life." He enjoyed this salary till the civil war, and was in such favour with the king, and in such reputation, that on a small painting of him he is described as "Il famosissimo pittore Francesco Cleyn, miracolo del secolo, e molto stimato del re Carlo della gran Britania, 1646." The Tapestry Manufacture at Mortlake was indeed a hobby, both of King James and Prince Charles, and of consequence was patronised by the Court. During Charles the First's romantic expedition to Spain, when Prince of Wales, with the Duke of Buckingham, James writes--"I have settled with Sir Francis Crane for my Steenie's business, and I am this day to speak with Fotherby, and by my next, Steenie shall have an account both of his business, and of Kit's preferment and supply in means; but Sir Francis Crane desires to know if my Baby will have him to hasten the making of that suit of Tapestry that he commanded him."[82] The most superb hangings were wrought here after the designs of distinguished painters; and Windsor Castle, Hampton Court, Whitehall, St. James's, Nonsuch, Greenwich, and other royal seats, and many noble mansions were enriched and adorned by its productions. In the first year of his reign, Charles was indebted £6000 to the establishment for three suits of gold tapestry; Five of the Cartoons were wrought here, and sent to Hampton Court, where they still remain. A suit of hangings, representing the Five Senses, executed here, was in the palace at Oatlands, and was sold in 1649 for £270. Rubens sketched eight pieces in Charles the First's reign for tapestry, to be woven here, of the history of Achilles, intended for one of the royal palaces. At Lord Ilchester's, at Redlinch, in Somersetshire, was a suit of hangings representing the twelve months in compartments; and there are several other sets of the same design. Williams, Archbishop of York, and Lord Keeper, paid Sir Francis Crane £2500 for the Four Seasons. At Knowl, in Kent, was a piece of the same tapestry wrought in silk, containing the portraits of Vandyck, and St. Francis himself. At Lord Shrewsbury's (Hoythorp, Oxfordshire) are, or were, four pieces of tapestry from designs by Vanderborght, representing the four quarters of the world, expressed by assemblages of the nations in various habits and employments, excepting Europe, which is in masquerade, wrought in chiaroscuro. And at Houghton (Lord Oxford's seat) were beautiful hangings containing whole lengths of King James, King Charles, their Queens, and the King of Denmark, with heads of the Royal Children in the borders. These are all mentioned incidentally as the production of the Mortlake establishment. After the death of Sir Francis Crane, his brother Sir Richard sold the premises to Charles I. During the civil wars, this work was seized as the property of the Crown; and though, after the Restoration, Charles II. endeavoured to revive the manufacture, and sent Verrio to sketch the designs, his intention was not carried into effect. The work, though languishing, was not altogether extinct; for in Mr. Evelyn's very scarce tract intituled "Mundus Muliebris," printed in 1690, some of this manufacture is amongst the articles to be furnished by a gallant to his mistress. One of the first acts of the Protectorate after the death of the king, was to dispose of the pictures, statues, tapestry hangings, and other splendid ornaments of the royal palaces. Cardinal Mazarine enriched himself with much of this royal plunder; and some of the splendid tapestry was purchased by the Archduke Leopold. This however found its way again to England, being repurchased at Brussels for £3000 by Frederick, Prince of Wales, father of George III. In 1663 "two well-intended statutes" were made: one for the encouragement of the linen and _tapestry manufactures_ of England, and discouragement of the importation of foreign tapestry:--and the other--start not, fair reader--the other "for regulating the packing of herrings."[83] FOOTNOTES: [75] See Smith's History of the Ancient Palace of Westminster. [76] But not from them would be derived the art of painting with the needle the representation of the human figure. Hence, perhaps, the awkward and ungainly aspect of these, in comparison with the arabesque patterns. From a fear of its exciting a tendency to idolatry Mohammed prohibited his followers from delineating the form of men or animals in their pictorial embellishments of whatever sort. [77] Von Raumer's Contributions, 297. [78] Sully's Memoirs. We have, in a subsequent chapter, a more full account of this Tapestry. [79] Gent's Mag., 1830. [80] Sully's Memoirs, vol. ii. [81] Sully's Memoirs, vol. iii. [82] Miscellaneous State Papers, vol. i. No. 26. [83] "The rich tapestry and arras hangings which belonged to St. James's Palace, Hampton Court, Whitehall, and other Royal Seats, were purchased for Cromwell: these were inventoried at a sum not exceeding £30,000. One piece of eight parts at Hampton Court was appraised at £8,260: this related to the History of Abraham. Another of ten parts, representing the History of Julius Cæsar, was appraised at £5019." CHAPTER XII. ROMANCES WORKED IN TAPESTRY. "And storied loves of knights and courtly dames, Pageants and triumphs, tournaments and games." Rose's Partenopex. It has been a favourite practice of all antiquity to work with the needle representations of those subjects in which the imagination and the feelings were most interested. The labours of Penelope, of Helen, and Andromache, are proverbial, and this mode of giving permanency to the actions of illustrious individuals was not confined to the classical nations. The ancient islanders used to work--until the progress of art enabled them to weave the histories of their giants and champions in Tapestry; and the same thing is recorded of the old Persians; and this furniture is still in high request among many Oriental nations, especially in Japan and China. The royal palace of Jeddo has profusion of the finest Tapestry; this indeed is gorgeous, being wrought with silk, and adorned with pearls, gold, and silver. It was considered a right regal offering from one prince to another. Henry III., King of Castile, sent a present to Timour at Samarcand, of Tapestry which was considered to surpass even the works of Asiatic artists in beauty: and when the religious and military orders of some of the princes of France and Burgundy had plunged them into a kind of crusade against the Turkish Sultan Bajazet, and they became his prisoners in the battle of Nicopolis, the King of France sent presents to the Sultan, to induce him to ransom them; amongst which Tapestry representing the battles of Alexander the Great was the most conspicuous. Tapestry was not used in the halls of princes alone, but cut a very conspicuous figure on all occasions of festivity and rejoicing. It was customary at these times to hang ornamental needlework of all sorts from the windows or balconies of the houses of those streets through which a pageant or festal procession was to pass; and as the houses were then built with the upper stories far overhanging the lower ones, these draperies frequently hung in rich folds to the ground, and must have had, when a street was thus in its whole length appareled and partly roofed by the floating streamers and banners above--somewhat the appearance of a suite of magnificent saloons. "Then the high street gay signs of triumph wore, Covered with shewy cloths of different dye, Which deck the walls, while Sylvan leaves in store, And scented herbs upon the pavement lie. Adorned in every window, every door, With carpeting and finest drapery; But more with ladies fair, and richly drest In costly jewels and in gorgeous vest." When the Black Prince entered London with King John of France, as his prisoner, the outsides of the houses were covered with hangings, consisting of battles in tapestry-work. And in tournaments the lists were always decorated "with the splendid richness of feudal power. Besides the gorgeous array of heraldic insignia near the Champions' tents, the galleries, which were made to contain the proud and joyous spectators, were covered with tapestry, representing chivalry both in its warlike and its amorous guise: on one side the knight with his bright faulchion smiting away hosts of foes, and on the other side kneeling at the feet of beauty." But the subjects of the tapestry in which our ancestors so much delighted were not confined to _bonâ fide_ battles, and the matter-of-fact occurrences of every-day life. Oh no! The Lives of the Saints were frequently pourtrayed with all the legendary accompaniments which credulity and blind faith could invest them with. The "holy and solitary" St. Cuthbert would be seen taming the sea-monsters by his word of power: St. Dunstan would be in the very act of seizing the "handle" of his Infernal Majesty's face with the red-hot pincers; and St. Anthony in the "howling wilderness," would be reigning omnipotent over a whole legion of sprites. Here was food for the imagination and taste of our notable great-grandmother! Yet let us do them justice. If some of their religious pieces were imbued even to a ridiculous result, with the superstitions of the time, there were others, numberless others, scripture pieces, as chaste and beautiful in design, as elaborate in execution. The loom and needle united indeed brought these pieces to the highest perfection, but many a meek and saintly Madonna, many a lofty and energetic St. Paul, many a subdued and touching Magdalene were produced by the unaided industry of the pious needlewoman. Nay, the whole Bible was copied in needlework; and in a poem of the fifteenth century, by Henry Bradshaw, containing the Life of St. Werburgh, a daughter of the King of the Mercians, there is an account "rather historical than legendary,"[84] of many circumstances of the domestic life of the time. Amongst other descriptions is that of the tapestry displayed in the Abbey of Ely, on the occasion of St. Werburgh taking the veil there. This Tapestry belonged to king Wulfer, and was brought to Ely Monastery for the occasion. We subjoin some of the stanzas:-- "It were full tedyous, to make descrypcyon Of the great tryumphes, and solempne royalte, Belongynge to the feest, the honour and provysyon, By playne declaracyon, upon every partye; But the sothe to say, withouten ambyguyte, All herbes and flowres, fragraunt, fayre, and swete, Were strawed in halles, and layd under theyr fete. "Clothes of golde and arras[85] were hanged in the hall Depaynted with pyctures, and hystoryes manyfolde, Well wroughte and craftely, with precious stones all Glysteryng as Phebus, and the beten golde, Lyke an erthly paradyse, pleasaunt to beholde: As for the said moynes,[86] was not them amonge, But prayenge in her cell, as done all novice yonge. "The story of Adam, there was goodly wrought, And of his wyfe Eve, bytwene them the serpent, How they were deceyved, and to theyr peynes brought; There was Cayn and Abell, offerynge theyr present, The sacryfyce of Abell, accepte full evydent: Tuball and Tubalcain were purtrayed in that place, The inventours of musyke and crafte by great grace. "Noe and his shyppe was made there curyously Sendynge forthe a raven, whiche never came again; And how the dove returned, with a braunche hastely, A token of comforte and peace, to man certayne: Abraham there was, standing upon the mount playne To offer in sacrifice Isaac his dere sone, And how the shepe for hym was offered in oblacyon. "The twelve sones of Jacob there were in purtrayture, And how into Egypt yonge Josephe was solde, There was imprisoned, by a false conjectour, After in all Egypte, was ruler (as is tolde). There was in pycture Moyses wyse and bolde, Our Lorde apperynge in bushe flammynge as fyre, And nothing thereof brent, lefe, tree, nor spyre.[87] "The ten plages of Egypt were well embost, The chyldren of Israel passyng the reed see, Kynge Pharoo drowned, with all his proude hoost, And how the two table, at the Mounte Synaye Were gyven to Moyses, and how soon to idolatry The people were prone, and punysshed were therefore, How Datan and Abyron, for pryde were full youre."[88] Then _Duke_ Joshua leading the Israelites: the division of the promised land; Kyng Saull and David, and "prudent Solomon;" Roboas succeeding; "The good Kynge Esechyas and his generacyon, And so to the Machabus, and dyvers other nacyon." All these "Theyr noble actes, and tryumphes marcyall, Freshly were browdred in these clothes royall." * * * * * "But over the hye desse, in the pryncypall place, Where the sayd thre kynges sate crowned all, The best hallynge[89] hanged, as reason was, Whereon were wrought the nine orders angelicall Dyvyded in thre ierarchyses, not cessynge to call _Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus_, blessed be the Trynite, Dominius Deus Sabaoth, three persons in one deyte." Then followed in order our Blessed Lady, the twelve Apostles, "eche one in his figure," the four Evangelists "wrought most curyously," all the disciples "Prechynge and techynge, unto every nacyon, The faythtes[90] of holy chyrche, for their salvacyon." "Martyrs then followed, right manifolde;" Confessors "fressely embrodred in ryche tyshewe and fyne." Saintly virgins "were brothered[91] the clothes of gold within," and the long array was closed on the other side of the hall by "Noble auncyent storyes, and how the stronge Sampson Subdued his enemyes by his myghty power; Of Hector of Troye, slayne by fals treason; Of noble Arthur, kynge of this regyon; With many other mo, which it is to longe Playnly to expresse this tyme you amonge." But the powers of the chief proportion of needlewomen, and of many of the subsequent tapestry looms were devoted to giving permanence to those fables which, as exhibited in the Romances of Chivalry, formed the very life and delight of our ancestors in "------that happy season Ere bright Fancy bent to reason; When the spirit of our stories, Filled the mind with unseen glories; Told of creatures of the air, Spirits, fairies, goblins rare, Guarding man with tenderest care." These fables, says Warton, were not only perpetually repeated at the festivals of our ancestors, but were the constant objects of their eyes. The very walls of their apartments were clothed with romantic history. We have mentioned the history of Alexander in Tapestry as forming an important part of the peace offering of the king of France to Bajazet, and probably there were few princes who did not possess a suit of tapestry on this subject; a most important one in romance, and consequently a desired one for the loom. There seems an innate propensity in the writers of the Romance of Chivalry to exaggerate, almost to distortion, the achievements of those whose heroic bearing needed no pomp of diction, or wild flow of imagination to illustrate it. Thus Charlemagne, one of the best and greatest of men, appears in romance like one whose thirst for slaughter it requires myriads of "Paynims" to quench. Arthur, on the contrary, a very (if history tell truth) a very "so-so" sort of a man, having not one tithe of the intellect or the magnanimity of him to whom we have just referred--Arthur is invested in romance with a halo of interest and of beauty which is perfectly fascinating; and it seems almost impossible to divest oneself of these impressions and to look upon him only in the unattractive light in which history represents him. A person not initiated in romance would suppose that the real actions of Alexander--the subjugator of Greece, the conqueror of Persia, the captor of the great Darius, but the generous protector of his family--might sufficiently immortalize him. By no means. He cuts a considerable figure in many romances; but in one, appropriated more exclusively to his exploits, he "surpasses himself." The world was conquered:--from north to south, and from east to west his sovereignty was acknowledged; so he forthwith flew up into the air to bring the aerial potentates to his feet. But this experiment not answering, he descended to the depths of the waters with much better success; for immediately all their inhabitants, from the whale to the herring, the cannibal shark, the voracious pike, the majestic sturgeon, the lordly salmon, the rich turbot, and the delicate trout, with all their kith, kin, relations, and allies, the lobster, the crab, and the muscle, "The sounds and seas with all their finny drove" crowd round him to do him homage: the oyster lays her pearl at his feet, and the coral boughs meekly wave in token of subjection. Doubtless in addition to the legitimate "battles" these exploits, if not fully displayed, were intimated by symbols in the Tapestry. The Tale of Troy was a very favourite subject for Tapestry, and was found in many noble mansions, especially in France. It has indeed been conjectured, and on sufficient grounds, that the whole Iliad had been wrought in a consecutive series of hangings. Though during the early part of the middle ages Homer himself was lost, still the "Tale of Troy divine" was kept alive in two Latin works, which in 1260 formed the basis of a prose romance by a Sicilian. The great original himself however, had become the companion not only of the studious and learned, but also of the fair and fashionable, while yet the Flemish looms were in the zenith of their popularity. This subject formed part of the decoration of Holyrood House, on the occasion of the marriage of Henry the Seventh's daughter to James, King of Scotland in 1503. We are told in an ancient record, that the "hanginge of the queene's gret chammer represented the ystory of Troye toune, that the king's grett chammer had one table, wer was satt, hys chamerlayne, the grett sqyer, and many others, well served; the which chammer was haunged about with the story of Hercules, together with other ystorys." And at the same solemnity, "in the hall wher the qwene's company wer satt in lyke as in the other, an wich was haunged of the history of Hercules." The tragic and fearful story of Coucy's heart gave rise to an old metrical English Romance, called the 'Knight of Courtesy and the Lady of Faguel.' It was entirely represented in tapestry. The incident, a true one, on which it was founded, occurred about 1180; and was thus:-- "Some hundred and odd years since, there was in France one Captain Coucy, a gallant gentleman of an ancient extraction, and keeper of Coucy Castle, which is yet standing, and in good repair. He fell in love with a young gentlewoman, and courted her for his wife. There was a reciprocal love between them; but her parents understanding of it, by way of prevention, they shuffled up a forced match 'twixt her and one Monsieur Faiell who was a great heir: Captain Coucy hereupon quitted France in discontent, and went to the wars in Hungary against the Turk; where he received a mortal wound, not far from Bada. Being carried to his lodging, he languished for some days; but a little before his death he spoke to an ancient servant of his, that he had many proofs of his fidelity and truth; but now he had a great business to intrust him with, which he conjured him by all means to do, which was, That after his death, he should get his body to be opened and then to take his heart out of his breast, and put in an earthen pot, to be baked to powder; and then to put the powder in a handsome box, with that bracelet of hair he had worn long about on his left wrist, which was a lock of Mademoiselle Faiell's hair, and put it among the powder, together with a little note he had written with his own blood to her; and after he had given him the rites of burial, to make all the speed he could to France, and deliver the box to Mademoiselle Faiell. The old servant did as his master had commanded him, and so went to France; and coming one day to Monsieur Faiell's house, he suddenly met with him, who examined him because he knew he was Captain Coucy's servant, and finding him timorous and faltering in his speech, he searched him, and found the said box in his pocket with the note, which expressed what was therein. He dismissed the bearer with menaces, that he should come no more near his house: Monsieur Faiell going in, sent for his cook, and delivered him the powder, charging him to make a little well-relished dish of it, without losing a jot of it, for it was a very costly thing; and commanded him to bring it in himself, after the last course at supper. The cook bringing in the dish accordingly, Monsieur Faiell commanded all to void the room, and began a serious discourse with his wife: However since he had married her, he observed she was always melancholy, and he feared she was inclining to a consumption; therefore he had provided for her a very precious cordial, which he was well assured would cure her. Thereupon he made her eat up the whole dish; and afterwards much importuning him to know what it was, he told her at last, she had eaten Coucy's heart, and so drew the box out of his pocket, and showed her the note and bracelet. In a sudden exultation of joy, she with a far-fetched sigh said, '_This is precious indeed_,' and so licked the dish, saying, '_It is so precious, that 'tis pity to put ever any meat upon 't_.' So she went to bed, and in the morning she was found stone dead."[92] But a more national, a more inspiriting, and a more agreeable theme for the alert finger or the busy loom is found in the life and adventures of that prince of combatants, that hero of all heroes, Guy Earl of Warwick. Help me, shades of renowned slaughterers, whilst I record his achievements! Bear witness to his deed, ye grisly phantoms, ye bloody ghosts of infidel Paynims, whom his Christian sword mowed down, even as corn falls beneath the the reaper's sickle, till the redoubtable champion strode breast deep in bodies over fifteen acres covered with slaughtered foes![93] And all this from Christian zeal! "In faith of Christ a Christian true The wicked laws of infidels, He sought by power to subdue. "So passed he the seas of Greece, To help the Emperour to his right, Against the mighty Soldan's host Of puissant Persians for to fight: Where he did slay of Sarazens And heathen Pagans many a man, And slew the Soldan's cousin dear, Who had to name, Doughty Colbron. "Ezkeldered that famous knight, To death likewise he did pursue, And Almain, king of Tyre also, Most terrible too in fight to view: He went into the Soldan's host, Being thither on ambassage sent, And brought away his head with him, He having slain him in his tent." Or passing by his "Feats of arms In strange and sundry heathen lands," note his beneficent progress at home-- "In Windsor forest he did slay A boar of passing might and strength; The like in England never was, For hugeness both in breadth and length. Some of his bones in Warwick yet, Within the castle there do lye; One of his shield bones to this day Hangs in the city of Coventry. "On Dunsmore heath he also slew A monstrous wild and cruel beast, Call'd the dun cow of Dunsmore heath, Which many people had opprest; Some of her bones in Warwick yet Still for a monument doth lie, Which unto every looker's view, As wondrous strange they may espy. "And the dragon in the land, He also did in flight destroy, Which did both men and beasts oppress, And all the country sore annoy:" Or look we at him all doughty as he was, as the pilgrim of love, as subdued by the influence of the tender passion, a suppliant to the gentle Phillis, and ready to compass the earth to fulfil her wishes, and to prove his devotion: "Was ever knight for lady's sake So tost in love, as I, Sir Guy; For Phillis fair, that Lady bright, As ever man beheld with eye; She gave me leave myself to try The valiant knight with shield and spear, Ere that her love she would grant me, Who made me venture far and near." Or, afterwards view him as-- "All clad in grey in Pilgrim sort, His voyage from her he did take, Unto that blessed, holy land, For Jesus Christ, his Saviour's sake." Lastly, recal we the time when the fierce and ruthless Danes were ravaging our land, and there was scarce a town or castle as far as Winchester, which they had not plundered or burnt, and a proposal was made, and per force acceded to by the English king to decide the struggle by single combat. But the odds were great: Colbrand the Danish champion, was a giant, and ere he came to a combat he provided himself with a cart-load of Danish axes, great clubs with knobs of iron, squared barrs of steel lances and iron hooks wherewith to pull his adversary to him. On the other hand the English--and sleepless and unhappy, the king Athelstan pondered the circumstance as he lay on his couch, on St. John Baptist's night--had no champion forthcoming, even though the county of Hants had been promised as a reward to the victor. Roland, the most valiant knight of a thousand, was dead; Heraud, the pride of the nation, was abroad; and the great and valiant Guy, Earl of Warwick, was gone on a pilgrimage. The monarch was perplexed and sorrowful; but an angel appeared to him and comforted him. In conformity with the injunctions of this gracious messenger, the king, attended by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Chichester, placed himself at the north gate of the city (Winchester) at the hour of prime. Divers poor people and pilgrims entered thereat, and among the rest appeared a man of noble visage and stalwart frame, but wan withal, pale with abstinence, and macerated by reason of journeying barefoot. His beard was venerably long and he rested on a staff; he wore a pilgrim's garb, and on his bare and venerable head was strung a chaplet of white roses. Bending low, he passed the gate, but the king warned by the vision, hastened to him, and entreated him "by his love for Jesus Christ, by the devotion of his pilgrimage, and for the preservation of all England, to do battle with the giant." The Palmer thus conjured, underwent the combat, and was victorious. After a solemn procession to the Cathedral, and thanksgiving therein, when he offered his weapon to God and the patron of the Church, before the High Altar, the pilgrim withdrew, having revealed himself to none but the king, and that under a solemn pledge of secrecy. He bent his course towards Warwick, and unknown in his disguise, took alms at the hands of his own lady--for, reader, this meek and holy pilgrim, was none other than the wholesale slayer, whose deeds we have been contemplating--and then retired to a solitary place hard by-- "Where with his hand he hew'd a house, Out of a craggy rock of stone; And lived like a palmer poor, Within that cave himself alone." Nor was this at all an unusual conclusion to a life of butchery; all the heroes of romance turned hermits; and as they all, at least all of Arthur's Round Table, were gifted with a very striking development of the organ of combativeness, their profound piety at the end of their career might not improbably give rise to a very common adage of these days regarding sinners and saints. But here was a theme for Tapestry-workers! a real original, genuine English romance; for though the only pieces now extant be, or may be, translated from the French, still there are many concurring circumstances to prove that the original, often quoted by Chaucer, was an ancient metrical English one. That it is difficult to find who Sir Guy was, or in fact, to prove that there ever was a Sir Guy at all, is nothing to the purpose; leave we that to antiquarians, and their musty folios. Guy of Warwick was well known from west to east, even as far as Jerusalem, where, in Henry the Fourth's time, Lord Beauchamp was kindly received by those in high stations, because he was descended from "A shadowy ancestor, so renowned as Guy." One tapestry on this attractive subject which was in Warwick Castle, before the year 1398, was so distinguished and valued a piece of furniture, that a special grant was made of it by King Richard II. conveying "that suit of arras hangings in Warwick Castle, which contained the story of Guy Earl of Warwick," together with the Castle of Warwick and other possessions, to Thomas Holland, Earl of Kent. And in the restoration of forfeited property to this lord after his imprisonment, these hangings are particularly specified in the patent of King Henry IV., dated 1399. And the Castle wherein the tapestry was hung was worthy of the heroes it had sheltered. The first building on the site was supposed to be coeval with our Saviour, and was called Caer-leon; almost overthrown by the Picts and Scots, it lay in ruins till Caractacus built himself a manor-house, and founded a church to the honour of St. John the Baptist. Here was afterwards a Roman fort, and here again was a Pictish devastation. A cousin of King Arthur rebuilt it, and then lived in it--Arthgal, first Earl of Warwick, a Knight of the Round Table; this British title was equivalent to _Ursus_ in Latin, whence Arthgal took the Bear for his ensign: and a successor of his, a worthy progenitor of our valiant Sir Guy, slew a mighty giant in a duel; and because this giant's delicate weapon was a tree pulled up by the roots, the boughs being snagged from it, the Earls of Warwick, successors of the victor, bore a ragged staff of silver in a sable shield for their cognisance. We are told that,-- "When Arthur first in court began, And was approved king, By force of arms great victoryes wanne, And conquest home did bring. Then into England straight he came With fifty good and able Knights, that resorted unto him, And were of his round table." Of these the most renowned were Syr Perceval, Syr Tristan, Syr Launcelot du Lac, Syr Ywain, Syr Gawain, Syr Galaas, Syr Meliadus of Leonnoys, Sir Ysaie, Syr Gyron, &c. &c., and their various and wondrous achievements were woven into a series of tales which are known as the "Romances of the Round Table." Of course the main subject of each tale is interrupted by ten thousand varied episodes, in which very often the original object seems entirely lost sight of. Then the construction of many of these Romances, or rather their want of construction, is marvellous; their genealogies are interminable, and their geography miraculous. One of the most marvellous and scarce of these Romances, and one, the principal passages of which were frequently wrought into Tapestry, was the "Roman du Saint Greal," which is founded upon an incident, to say the least very peculiar, but which was perhaps once considered true as Holy Writ. St. Joseph of Arimathoea, a very important personage in many romances, having obtained the hanap, or cup from which our Saviour administered the wine to his disciples, caught in the same cup the blood which flowed from his wounds when on the Cross. After he had first achieved various adventures, and undergone an imprisonment of forty-two years, St. Joseph arrives in England with the sacred cup, by means of which numerous miracles are performed; he prepares the Round Table, and Arthur and his Knights all go in quest of the hanap, which by some, to us unaccountable, circumstance, had fallen into the hands of a sinner. All make the most solemn vow to devote their lives to its recovery; and this they must indeed have done, and not short lives either, if all recorded of them be true. None, however, but two, ever _see_ the sacred symbol; though oftentimes a soft ray of light would stream across the lonesome wild, or the dark pathless forest, or unearthly strains would float on the air, or odours as of Paradise would entrance the senses, while the wandering and woeworn knight would feel all fatigue, all sense of personal inconvenience, of pain, of sickness, or of sorrow, vanish on the instant; and then would he renew his vows, and betake himself to prayer; for though all unworthy to see the Holy Grayle, he would feel that it had been borne on viewless pinions through the air for his individual consolation and hope. And Syr Galahad and Syr Perceval, the two chaste and favoured knights who, "after the dedely flesshe had beheld the spiritual things," the holy St. Grael--never returned to converse with the world. The first departed to God, and "flights of angels sang him to his rest;" the other took religious clothing and retired to a hermitage, where, after living "a full holy life for a yere and two moneths, he passed out of this world." But wide as is the range of the Romances of the "Round Table," they form but a portion of those which solaced our ancestors. Charlemagne and his Paladins were, so to speak, the solar system round which another circle revolved; Alexander furnished the radiating star for another, derived chiefly perhaps from the East, where numbers of fictitious tales were prevalent about him; and many Romances were likewise woven around the mangled remains of classic heroes. "The mightiest chiefs of British song Scorn'd not such legends to prolong; They gleam through Spenser's elfic dream, And mix in Milton's heavenly theme; And Dryden in immortal strain, Had raised the 'Table Round' again." The Stories of the Tapestry in the Royal Palaces of Henry VIII. are preserved in the British Museum.[94] These are some of them re-copied from Warton:-- In the tapestry of the Tower of London, the original and most ancient seat of our monarchs, there are recited, Godfrey of Bulloign; the Three Kings of Cologne; the Emperor Constantine; St. George; King of Erkenwald; the History of Hercules; Fame and Honour; the Triumph of Divinity; Esther and Ahasueras; Jupiter and Juno; St. George; the Eight Kings; the Ten Kings of France; the Birth of our Lord; Duke Joshua; the Riche History of King David; the Seven Deadly Sins; the Riche History of the Passion; the Stem of Jesse; Our Lady and Son; King Solomon; the Woman of Canony; Meleager; and the Dance of Maccabee. At Durham Place were the Citie of Ladies (a French allegorical Romance); the Tapestrie of Thebes and of Troy; the City of Peace; the Prodigal Son; Esther, and other pieces of Scripture. At Windsor Castle the Siege of Jerusalem; Ahasueras; Charlemagne; the Siege of Troy; and Hawking and Hunting. At Nottingham Castle, Amys and Amelion. At Woodstock Manor, the tapestrie of Charlemagne. At the More, a palace in Hertfordshire, King Arthur, Hercules, Astyages, and Cyrus. At Richmond, the arras of Sir Bevis, and Virtue and Vice fighting. Among the rest we have also Hannibal, Holofernes, Romulus and Remus, Æneas, and Susannah. Many of these subjects were repeated at Westminster, Greenwich, Oatlands, Bedington in Surrey, and other royal seats, some of which are now unknown as such. FOOTNOTES: [84] Warton. [85] Arras, a very common anachronism. After the production of the arras tapestries, arras became the common name for all tapestries: even for those which were wrought before the looms of Arras were in existence. [86] Moynes--nun. Lady Werburg [87] _Spyre_--twig, branch. [88] _Youre_--burnt. [89] _Hallynge_--Tapestry. [90] _Faythtes_--feats, facts. [91] _Brothered_--embroidered. [92] Epistolæ Ho-Elianæ. [93] "Fifteen acres were covered with the bodies of slaughtered Saracens; and so furious were the strokes of Sir Guy, that the pile of dead men, wherever his sword had reached, rose as high as his breast."--Ellis, vol. ii. [94] Harl. MSS. 1419. CHAPTER XIII. NEEDLEWORK IN COSTUME.--PART I. "What neede these velvets, silkes, or lawne, Embrodery, feathers, fringe and lace." Bp. Hall. "Time was, when clothing sumptuous or for use, Save their own painted skins, our Sires had none. As yet black breeches were not." Cowper. Manifold indeed were the varieties in mode and material before that _beau ideal_ of all that is graceful and becoming--the "black breeches"--were invented. For though in many parts of the globe costume is uniform, and the vest and the turban of a thousand years ago are of much the same make as now, this is not the case in the more polished parts of Europe, where that "turncoat whirligig maniac, yclept Fashion," is the pole-star and beacon of the multitude of men, from him who has the "last new cut from Stultz," to him who is magnificent and happy in the "reg'lar bang-up-go" from the eastern parts of the metropolis. It would seem that England is peculiarly celebrated for her devotion at Fashion's shrine; for we are told that "an Englishman, endevoring sometime to write of our attire, made sundrie platformes for his purpose, supposing by some of them to find out one stedfast ground whereon to build the summe of his discourse. But in the end (like an orator long without exercise) when he saw what a difficult peece of worke he had taken in hand, he gave over his travell, and onely drue the picture of a naked man, unto whome he gave a paire of sheares in the one hand, and a piece of cloth in the other, to the end he should shape his apparell after such fashion as himselfe liked, sith he could find no kind of garment that could please him anie while together, and this he called an Englishman. Certes this writer shewed himself herein not to be altogether void of iudgement, sith the phantasticall follie of our nation, even from the courtier to the carter, is such, that no forme of apparell liketh vs longer than the first garment is in the wearing, if it continue so long and be not laid aside, to receive some other trinket newlie devised. "And as these fashions are diverse, so likewise it is a world to see the costlinesse and the curiositie; the excesse and the vanitie; the pompe and the brauerie; the change and the varietie; and, finallie, the ficklenesse and the follie that is in all degrees; insomuch that nothing is more constant in England than inconstancie of attire. "In women, also, it in most to be lamented, that they doo now far exceed the lightnesse of our men (who nevertheless are transformed from the cap even to the verie shoo) and such staring attire as in time past was supposed meet for none but light housewives onlie, is now become a habit for chast and sober matrons. "Thus _it is now come to passe, that women are become men, and men transformed into monsters_." This ever-revolving wheel is still turning; and so all-important now is THE MODE that one half of the world is fully occupied in providing for the personal embellishment of the other half and themselves; and could we contemplate the possibility of a return to the primitive simplicity of our ancient "sires," we must look in the same picture on one half of the world as useless--as a drug on the face of creation. Why, what a desert would it be were all dyers, fullers, cleaners, spinners, weavers, printers, mercers and milliners, haberdashers and modistes, silk-men and manufacturers, cotton-lords and fustian-men, tailors and habit makers, mantuamakers and corset professors, exploded? We pass over pin and needle makers, comb and brush manufacturers, jewellers, &c. The ladies would have nothing to live for; (for on grave authority it has been said, that "woman is an animal that delights in the toilette;") the gentlemen nothing to solace them. "The toilette" is the very zest of life with both; and if ladies are more successful in the results of their devoirs to it, it is because "nous sommes faites pour embellir le monde," and not because gentlemen practice its duties with less zeal, devotion, or assiduity--as many a valet can testify when contemplating his modish patron's daily heap of "failures." Indeed to put out of view the more obvious, weighty, and important cares attached to the due selection and arrangement of coats, waistcoats, and indispensables, the science of "Cravatiana" alone is one which makes heavy claims on the time, talents, and energies of the thorough-going gentleman of fashion. He should be thoroughly versed in all its varieties--The Royal George: The Plain Bow: The Military: The Ball Room: The Corsican: The Hibernian Tie: The Eastern Tie: The Hunting Tie: The Yankee Tie: (the "alone original" one)--The Osbaldiston Tie: The Mail Coach Tie: The Indian Tie, &c. &c. &c. Though of these and their numberless offshoots, the Yankee Tie lays most claim to originality, the Ball Room one is considered the most exquisite, and requires the greatest practice. It is thus described by a "talented" professor:-- "The cloth, of virgin white, well starched and folded to the proper depth, should be made to sit easy and graceful on the neck, neither too tight nor loose; but with a gentle pressure, curving inwards from the further extension of the chin, down the throat to the centre dent in the middle of the neck. This should be the point for a slight dent, extending from under each ear, between which, more immediately under the chin, there should be another slight horizontal dent just above the former one. It has no tie; the ends, crossing each other in broad folds in front, are secured to the braces, or behind the back, by means of a piece of white tape. A brilliant broach or pin is generally made use of to secure more effectually the crossing, as well as to give an additional effect to the neckcloth." What a world of wit and invention--what a fund of fancy and taste--what a mine of zeal and ability would be lost to the world, "if those troublesome disguises which we wear" were reduced to their old simplicity of form and material! Industry and talent would be at discount, for want of materials whereon to display themselves; and money would be such a drug, that politicians would declaim on the miseries of being _without_ a national debt. Commerce, in many of its most important branches, would be exploded; the "manufacturing districts" would be annihilated; the "agricultural interest" would, consequently and necessarily, be at a "very low ebb;" and the "New World," the magnificent and imperial empress (that is to be) of the whole earth, might sink again to the embraces of those minute and wonderful artificers from whom, I suppose, she at first proceeded--the coral insects; for who would want cotton! No, no. Selfish preferences, individual wishes, must merge in the general good of the human race; and however "their own painted skins" might suffice our "sires," clothing, "sumptuous," as well as "for use," must decorate ourselves. To whom, then, are the fullers, the dyers, the cleaners--to whom are the spinners and weavers, and printers and mercers, and milliners and haberdashers, and modistes, and silk-men and manufacturers, cotton lords and fustian men, mantuamakers and corset professors, indebted for that nameless grace, that exquisite finish and appropriateness, which gives to all their productions their charm and their utility?--To the NEEDLEWOMAN, assuredly. For though the raw materials have been grown at Sea Island and shipped at New York,--have been consigned to the Liverpool broker and sold to the Manchester merchant, and turned over to the manufacturer, and spun and woven, and bleached and printed, and placed in the custody of the warehouseman, or on the shelf of the shopkeeper--of what good would it be that we had a fifty-yard length of calico to shade our oppressed limbs on a "dog-day," if we had not the means also to render that material agreeably available? Yet not content with merely rendering it available, this beneficent fairy, the needlewoman, casts, "as if by the spell of enchantment, that ineffable grace over beauty which the choice and arrangement of dress is calculated to bestow." For the love of becoming ornament--we quote no less an authority than the historian of the 'State of Europe in the Middle Ages,'--"is not, perhaps, to be regarded in the light of vanity; it is rather an instinct which woman has received from Nature to give effect to those charms which are her defence." And if it be necessary to woman with her charms, is it not tenfold necessary to those who--Heaven help them!--have few charms whereof to boast? For, as Harrison says, "it is now come to passe that men are transformed into monsters." "Better be out of the world than out of the fashion," is a proverb which, from the universal assent which has in all ages been given to it, has now the force of an axiom. It was this self evident proposition which emboldened the beau of the fourteenth century, in spite of the prohibitions of popes and senators,--in spite of the more touching personal inconvenience, and even risk and danger, attendant thereupon--to persist in wearing shoes of so preposterous a length, that the toes were obliged to be fastened with chains to the girdle ere the happy votary of fashion could walk across his own parlour! Happy was the favourite of Croesus, who could display chain upon chain of massy gold wreathed and intertwined from the waistband to the shoe, until he seemed almost weighed down by the burthen of his own wealth. Wrought silver did excellently well for those who could not produce gold; and for those who possessed not either precious metal, and who yet felt they "might as well be out of the world as out of the fashion," latteen chains, silken cords, aye, and cords of even less costly description, were pressed into service to tie up the _crackowes_, or piked shoes. For in that day, as in this, "the squire endeavours to outshine the knight, the knight the baron, the baron the earl, the earl the king, in dress." To complete the outrageous absurdity of these shoes, the upper parts of them were cut in imitation of a church-window, to which fashion Chaucer refers when describing the dress of Absalom, the Parish Clerk. He-- "Had Paul 'is windowes corven on his shose." Despite the decrees of councils, the bulls of the Pope, and the declamations of the Clergy, this ridiculous fashion was in vogue near three centuries. And the party-coloured hose, which were worn about the same time, were a fitting accompaniment for the crackowes. We feel some difficulty in realising the idea that gentlemen, only some half century ago, really dressed in the gay and showy habiliments which are now indicative only of a footman; but it is more difficult to believe, what was nevertheless the fact, that the most absurd costume in which the "fool" by profession can now be decked on the stage, can hardly compete in absurdity with the _outré_ costume of a beau or a belle of the fourteenth century. The shoes we have referred to: the garments, male or female, were divided in the middle down the whole length of the person, and one half of the body was clothed in one colour, the other half in the most opposite one that could be selected. The men's garments fitted close to the shape; and while one leg and thigh rejoiced in flaming yellow or sky-blue, the other blushed in deep crimson. John of Gaunt is portrayed in a habit, one half white, the other a dark blue; and Mr. Strutt has an engraving of a group assembled on a memorable occasion, where one of the figures has a boot on one leg and a shoe on the other. The Dauphiness of Auvergne, wife to Louis the Good, Duke of Bourbon, born 1360, is painted in a garb of which one half all the way down is blue, powdered with gold fleurs-de-lys, and the other half to the waist is gold, with a blue fish or dolphin (a cognizance, doubtless) on it, and from the waist to the feet is crimson, with white "fishy" ornaments; one sleeve is blue and gold, the other crimson and gold. In addition to these absurd garments, the women dressed their heads so high that they were obliged to wear a sort of curved horn on each side, in order to support the enormous superstructure of feathers and furbelows. And these are what are meant by the "horned head-dresses" so often referred to in old authors. It is said that, when Isabel of Bavaria kept her court at Vincennes, A.D. 1416, it was necessary to make all the doors of the palace both higher and wider, to admit the head-dresses of the queen and her ladies, which were all of this horned kind. This high bonnet had been worn, under various modifications, ever since the fashion was brought from the East in the time of the Crusades. Some were of a sugar-loaf form, three feet in height; and some cylindrical, but still very high. The French modistes of that day called this formidable head-gear _bonnet à la Syrienne_. But our author says, if female vanity be violently restrained in one point, it is sure to break out in another; and Romish anathemas having abolished curls from shading fair brows, so much the more attention was paid to head-gear, that the bonnets and caps increased every year most awfully in height and size, and were made in the form of crescents, pyramids, and horns of such tremendous dimensions, that the old chronicler Juvenal des Ursins makes this pathetic lamentation in his History of Charles VI.:-- "Et avoient les dames et damoyselles de chacun costé, deux grandes oreilles si larges, que quand elles vouloient passer par l'huis d'une chambre il fallait qu'elles se tournassent de costé et baisassent, ou elles n'eussent pu passer:" that is, "on every side old ladies and young ladies were seen with such high and monstrous ears (or horns), that when they wanted to enter a room they were obliged perforce to stoop and crouch sideways, or they could not pass." At last a regular attack was made on the high head-gear of the fifteenth century by a popular monk, in his sermons at Nôtre Dame, in which he so pathetically lamented the sinfulness and enormities of such a fashion, that the ladies, to show their contrition, made _auto da fés_ of their Syrian bonnets in the public squares and market-places; and as the Church fulminated against them all over Europe, the example of Paris was universally followed. Many attempts had previously been made by zealous preachers to effect this alteration. In the previous century a Carmelite in the province of Bretagne preached against this fashion, without the power to annihilate it: all that the ladies did was to change the particular shape of the huge coiffures after every sermon. "No sooner," says the chronicler, "had he departed from one district, than the dames and damoyselles, who, like frightened snails, had drawn in their horns, shot them out again longer than ever; for nowhere were the _hennins_ (so called, abbreviated from _gehinnin_, incommodious,) larger, more pompous or proud, than in the cities through which the Carmelite had passed. "All the world was totally reversed and disordered by these fashions, and above all things by the strange accoutrements on the heads of the ladies. It was a portentous time, for some carried huge towers on their foreheads an ell high; others still higher caps, with sharp points, like staples, from the top of which streamed long crapes, fringed with gold, like banners. Alas, alas! ladies, dames, and demoiselles were of importance in those days! When do we hear, in the present times, of Church and State interfering to regulate the patterns of their bonnets?"[95] It is no wonder that fashions so very extreme and absurd should call forth animadversion from various quarters. Thus wrote Petrarch in 1366:-- "Who can see with patience the monstrous, fantastical inventions which the people of our times have invented to deform, rather than adorn, their persons? Who can behold without indignation their long pointed shoes; their caps with feathers; their hair twisted and hanging down like tails; the foreheads of young men, as well as women, formed into a kind of furrows with ivory-headed pins; their bellies so cruelly squeezed with cords, that they suffer as much pain from vanity as the martyrs suffered for religion? Our ancestors would not have believed, and I know not if posterity will believe, that it was possible for the wit of this vain generation of ours to invent so many base, barbarous, horrid, ridiculous fashions (besides those already mentioned) to disfigure and disgrace itself, as we have the mortification to see every day." And thus Chaucer, a few years later:-- "Alass! may not a man see as in our daies the sinnefull costlew array of clothing, and namely in too much superfluite, or else in too disordinate scantinese: as to the first, not only the cost of embraudering, the disguysed indenting, or barring, ounding, playting, wynding, or bending, and semblable waste of clothe in vanitie." The common people also "were besotted in excesse of apparell, in wide surcoats reaching to their loines, some in a garment reaching to their heels, close before and strowting out on the sides, so that on the back they make men seem women, and this they called by a ridiculous name, _gowne_," &c. &c. Before this time the legislature had interfered, though with little success: they passed laws at Westminster, which were said to be made "to prevent that destruction and poverty with which the whole kingdom was threatened, by the outrageous, excessive expenses of many persons in their apparel, above their ranks and fortunes." Sumptuary edicts, however, are of little avail, if not supported in "influential quarters." King Richard II. affected the utmost splendour of attire, and he had one coat alone which was valued at 30,000 marks: it was richly embroidered and inwrought with gold and precious stones. It is not in human nature, at least in human nature of the "more honourable" gender, to be outdone, even by a king. Gorgeous and glittering was the raiment adopted by the satellites of the court, and, heedless of "that destruction and poverty with which the whole kingdom was threatened," they revelled in magnificence. Of one alone, Sir John Arundel, it is recorded, that he had at one time fifty-two suits of cloth of gold tissue. At this time, says the old Chronicle, "Cut werke was great bothe in court and tounes, Bothe in mens hoddes, and also in their gounes, Brouder and furres, and gold smith werke ay newe, In many a wyse, eche day they did renewe." Unaccountable as it may seem, this rage of expense and show in apparel reached even the (then) poverty-stricken sister country Scotland; and in 1457 laws were enacted to suppress it. It is told of William Rufus, that one morning while putting on his new boots he asked his chamberlain what they cost; and when he replied "three shillings," indignantly and in a rage he cried out, "you--how long has the king worn boots of so paltry a price? Go, and bring me a pair worth a mark of silver." He went, and bringing him a much cheaper pair, told him falsely that they cost as much as he had ordered: "Ay," said the king, "these are suitable to royal majesty." This is merely a specimen of the monarch's shallow-headed extravagance; but the costume of his time and that immediately preceding it was infinitely superior in grace and dignity to that of the fantastical period we have been describing. The English at this period were admired by all other nations, and especially _by the French_, from whom in subsequent periods _we_ have copied so servilely, for the richness and elegance of their attire. With a tunic simply confined at the waist, over this, when occasion required, a full and flowing mantle, with a veil confined to the back of the head with a golden circlet, her dark hair simply braided over her beautiful and intelligent brow and waving on her fair throat, the wife of the Conqueror looked every inch a queen, and what was more, she looked a modest, a dignified, and a beautiful woman. The male attire was of the same flowing and majestic description: and the "brutal" Anglo-Saxons and the "barbarous" Normans had more delicacy than to display every division of limb or muscle which nature formed, and more taste than to invent divisions where, Heaven knows, nature never meant them to be. The simple _coiffure_ required little care and attendance, but if a fastening did happen to give way, the Anglo-Norman lady could raise her hand to fasten it if she chose. The arm was not pinioned by the fiat of a _modiste_. And the material of a dress of those days was as rich as the mode was elegant. Silk indeed was not common; the first that was seen in the country was in 780, when Charlemagne sent Offa, King of Mercia, a belt and two vests of that beautiful material; but from the particular record made of silk mantles worn by two ladies at a ball at Kenilworth in 1286, we may fairly infer that till this period silk was not often used but as "------a robe pontifical, Ne'er seen but wonder'd at." Occasionally indeed it was used, but only by persons of the highest rank and wealth. But the woollens were of beautiful texture, and Britain was early famous in the art of producing the richest dyes. The Welsh are still remarkable for extracting beautiful tints from the commonest plants, such most probably as were used by the Britons anciently; and it is worthy of note that the South Sea cloths, manufactured from the inner bark of trees, have the same stripes and chequers, and indeed the identical patterns of the Welsh, and, as supposed, of the ancient Britons. Linen was fine and beautiful; and if it had not been so, the rich and varied embroidery with which it was decorated would have set off a coarser material. Furs of all sorts were in great request, and a mantle of regal hue, lined throughout with vair or sable, and decorated with bands of gold lace and flowers of the richest embroidery, interspersed with pearls, clasped on the shoulder with the most precious gems, and looped, if requisite, with golden tassels, was a garment at which a nobleman, even of these days, need not look askance. Robert Bloet, second bishop of Lincoln, made a present to Henry I. of a cloak of exquisitely fine cloth, lined with black sables with white spots, which cost a sum equivalent to £1500 of our money. The robes of females of rank were always bordered with a belt of rich needlework; their embroidered girdles were inlaid, or rather inwrought, with gold, pearls, and precious stones, and from them was usually suspended a large purse or pouch, on which the skill of the most accomplished needlewomen was usually expended. This rich and becoming mode of dress was gradually innovated upon until caprice reigned paramount over the national wardrobe. For "fashion is essentially caprice; and fashion in dress the caprice of milliners and tailors, with whom _recherche_ and exaggeration supply the place of education and principle." That this modern definition applied as accurately to former times as these, an instance may suffice to show. Richard I. had a cloak made, at enormous cost, with precious and shining metals inlaid _in imitation of the heavenly bodies_; and Henry V. wore, on a very memorable occasion, when Prince of Wales, a mantle or gown of rich blue satin, full of small eyelet-holes, as thickly as they could be put, and a needle hanging by a silk thread _from every hole_. The following incident, quoted from Miss Strickland's Life of Berengaria, will show the esteem in which a rich, and especially a furred garment was held. Richard I. quarrelled with the virtuous St. Hugh, bishop of Lincoln, on the old ground of exacting a simoniacal tribute on the installation of the prelate into his see. Willing to evade the direct charge of selling the see, King Richard intimated that a present of a fur mantle worth a thousand marks might be a composition. St. Hugh said he was no judge of such gauds, and therefore sent the king a thousand marks, declaring, if he would devour the revenue devoted to the poor, he must have his wilful way. But as soon as Richard had pocketed the money he sent for the fur mantle. St. Hugh set out for Normandy to remonstrate with the king on this double extortion. His friends anticipated that he would be killed; but St. Hugh said, "I fear him not," and boldly entered the chapel where Richard was at mass, when the following scene took place:-- "Give me the embrace of peace, my son," said St. Hugh. "That you have not deserved," replied the king. "Indeed I have," said St. Hugh, "for I have made a long journey on purpose to see my son." So saying, he took hold of the king's sleeve and drew him on one side. Richard smiled and embraced the old man. They withdrew to the recess behind the altar and sate down. "In what state is your conscience?" asked the bishop. "Very easy," said the king. "How can that be, my son," said the bishop, "when you live apart from your virtuous queen, and are faithless to her; when you devour the provision of the poor, and load your people with heavy exactions? Are those light transgressions, my son?" The king owned his faults, and promised amendment; and when he related this conversation to his courtiers he added, "Were all our prelates like Hugh of Lincoln, both king and barons must submit to their righteous rebukes." Furs were much used now as coverings for beds; and they were considered a _necessary_ part of dress for a very considerable period. In Sir John Cullum's Hawsted, mention is made that in 1281 Cecilia, widow of William Talmache, died, and, amongst other bequests, left "to Thomas Battesford, for black coats for poor people, xxx_s._ in part." "To John Camp, of Bury St. Edmunds, furrier, for furs for the black coats, viij_s._ xj_d._" On which the reverend and learned author remarks, "We should now indeed think that a black coat bestowed on a poor person wanted not the addition of fur: such, however, was the fashion of the time; and a sumptuary law of Edward III. allows handicraft and yeomen to wear no manner of furre, nor of bugg,[96] but only lambe, coney, catte, and foxe." The distinction in rank was expressly shown by the kind of fur displayed on the dress, and these distinctions were regulated by law and rigidly enforced. By a statute passed in 1455, for regulating the dress of the Scottish lords of parliament, the gowns of the earls are appointed to be furred with ermine, while those of the other lords are to be lined with "criestay, gray, griece, or purray." The more precious furs, as ermine and sable, were reserved exclusively for the principal nobility of both sexes. Persons of an inferior rank wore the _vair_ or _gris_ (probably the Hungarian squirrel); the citizens and burgesses, the common squirrel and lamb skins; and the peasants, cat and badger skins. The mantles of our kings and peers, and the furred robes of the several classes of our municipal officers, are the remains of this once universal fashion. Furs often formed an important part of the ransom of a prisoner of rank:-- "Sir," quoth Count Bongars, "war's disastrous hour Hath cast my lot within my foeman's power. Name ransome as you list; gold, silver bright, Palfreys, or dogs, or falcons train'd to flight; Or choose you _sumptuous furs, of vair or gray_; I plight my faith the destin'd price to pay."[97] Certain German nobles who had slain a bishop were enjoined, amongst other acts of penance, "ut varium, griseum, ermelinum, et pannos coloratos, non portent." The skin of the wild cat was much used by the clergy. Bishop Wolfstan preferred lambskin; saying in excuse, "Crede mihi, nunquam audivi, in ecclesia, cantari _catus_ Dei, sed _agnus_ Dei; ideo calefieri agno volo." The monk of Chaucer had "------his sleeves purfiled, at the hond, With gris, and that the finest of the lond." It is not till about the year 1204 that there is any specific enumeration of the royal apparel for festival occasions. The proper officers are appointed to bring for the king on this occasion "a golden crown, a red satin mantle adorned with sapphires and pearls, a robe of the same, a tunic of white damask; and slippers of red satin edged with goldsmith's work; a balbrick set with gems; two girdles enamelled and set with garnets and sapphires; white gloves, one with a sapphire and one with an amethist; various clasps adorned with emeralds, turquois, pearls, and topaz; and sceptres set with twenty-eight diamonds."[98] So much for the king:--And for the queen--oh! ye enlightened legislators of the earth, ye omnipotent and magisterial lords of creation, look on that picture--and on this. "For our lady the queen's use, sixty ells of fine linen cloth, forty ells of dark green cloth, a skin of minever, a _small brass pan_, and _eight towels_." But John, who in addition to his other amiable propensities was the greatest and most extravagant fop in Europe, was as parsimonious towards others as selfish and extravagant people usually are. Whilst even at the ceremony of her coronation he only afforded his Queen "three cloaks of fine linen, one of scarlet cloth, and one grey pelisse, costing together 12_l._ 5_s._ 4_d._;" he himself launched into all sorts of expenditure. He ordered the minutest articles for himself and the queen; but the wardrobe accounts of the sovereigns of the middle ages prove that they kept a royal warehouse of mercery, haberdashery, and linen, from whence their officers measured out velvets, brocades, sarcenets, tissue, gauzes, and trimmings, of all sorts. A queen, says Miss Strickland, had not the satisfaction of ordering her own gown when she obtained leave to have a new one; the warlike hand of her royal lord signed the order for the delivery of the materials from his stores, noting down with minute precision the exact quantity to a quarter of a yard of the cloth, velvet, or brocade, of which the garment was composed. "Blessed be the memory of King Edward III. and Philippa of Hainault his queen, who first invented clothes," was, we are told, the grateful adjuration of a monkish historian, who referred probably not to the first assumption of apparel, but to the charter which was granted first by that monarch to the "cutters and linen armourers," subsequently known as the merchant-tailors, who at that period were usually the makers of all garments, silk, linen, or woollen. Female fingers had sufficient occupation in the finer parts of the work; in the "silke broiderie" with which every garment of fashion was embellished; in the tapestry; in the spinning of wool and flax, every thread of which was drawn by female hands, and in the weaving of which a great portion was also executed by them. In the forty-fourth year of this king, "as the book of Worcester reporteth, they began to use cappes of divers coloures, especially red, with costly lynings; and in the year 1372, the forty-seventh of the above prince, they first began to wanton it in a new round curtall weede, which they call a cloake, and in Latin _armilausa_, as only covering the shoulders, and this notwithstanding the king had endeavoured to restrain all these inordinances and expenses in clothing; as appears by the law by Parliament established in the thirty-sixth year of his reign. All ornaments of gold or silver, either on the daggers, girdles, necklaces, rings, or other ornaments for the body, were forbid to all that could not spend ten pounds a-year; and farther, that no furre or pretious and costly apparel, should be worne by any but men possessed of 100_l._ a year." Besides the rigid enactments of the law, and the anathemas of divines, other and gentler means were from time to time resorted to as warnings from that sin of dress which seems inherent in our nature, or as inducements to a more becoming one. We quote a specimen of both:-- "There was a lady whiche had her lodgynge by the chirche. And she was alweye accustomed for to be longe to araye her, and to make her freshe and gay, insomuch that it annoyed and greued moche the parson of the chirche, and the parysshens. And it happed on a Sonday that she was so longe, that she sent to the preeste that he shod tarye for her, lyke as she had been accustomed. And it was thenne ferforthe on the day. And it annoyed the peple. And there were somme that said, How is hit? shall not this lady this day be pynned ne wel besene in a Myrroure? And somme said softely, God sende to her an evyll syght in her myrroure that causeth us this day and so oftymes to muse and to abyde for her. And thene as it plesyd God for an ensample, as she loked in the myrroure she sawe therein the Fende, whiche shewed hymselfe to her so fowle and horryble, that the lady wente oute of her wytte, and was al demonyak a long tyme. And after God sente to her helthe. And after she was not so longe in arayeng but thanked God that had so suffered her to be chastysed."[99] The 'Garment of Gude Ladyis' is a lecture of a most beguiling kind, and an exquisite picture. "Wald my gud lady lufe me best, And wirk after my will, I suld ane garment gudliest Gar mak hir body till. "Of he honour suld be her hud, Upoun hir heid to weir, Garneist with governance so gud, Na demyng[100] suld hir deir.[101] "Hir kirtill suld be of clene constance, Lasit with lesum lufe, The mailyeis[102] of continwance For nevir to remufe. "Her gown suld be of gudliness, Weill ribband with renowne, Purfillit[103] with plesour in ilk place, Furrit with fyne fassoun.[104] "Her belt suld be of benignitie, About hir middill meit; Hir mantill of humilitie, To tholl[105] bayth wind and weit. "Hir hat suld be of fair having[106], And her tepat of trewth, Hir patelet[107] of gude pansing, Hir hals-ribbane of rewth. "Hir slevis suld be of esperance, To keip hir fra dispair; Hir gluvis of the gud govirnance, To hyd hir fingearis fair. "Hir schone suld be of sickernes[108] In syne that scho nocht slyd; Hir hois of honestie, I ges, I suld for hir provyd. "Wald scho put on this garmond gay, I duret sweir by my seill, That scho woir nevir grene nor gray That set hir half so weill." FOOTNOTES: [95] Lady's Magazine. [96] Bugg--buge, lamb's furr.--Dr. Jamieson. [97] Ancassin and Nicolette. [98] The first instance in which the name of this stone is found.--Miss Lawrence. [99] The Knyght of the Toure. [100] _Demyng_--censure. [101] _Deir_--dismay. [102] _Mailyeis_--network. [103] _Purfillit_--furbelowed. [104] _Fassoun_--address, politeness. [105] _Tholl_--endure. [106] _Having_--behaviour. [107] _Patelet_--run. [108] _Sickernes_--steadfastness. CHAPTER XIV. NEEDLEWORK IN COSTUME.--PART II. "And the short French breeches make such a comelie vesture that, except it were a dog in a doublet, you shall not see anie so disguised as are my countriemen of England." Holinshed. "Out from the Gadis to the eastern morne, Not one but holds his native state forlorne. When comelie striplings wish it were their chance For Cenis' distaffe to exchange their lance; And weare curl'd periwigs, and chalk their face, And still are poring on their pocket glasse; Tyr'd with pinn'd ruffs, and fans, and partlet strips, And buskes and verdingales about their hips: And tread on corked stilts a prisoner's pace." Bp. Joseph Hall. "They brought in fashions strange and new, With golden garments bright; The farthingale and mighty ruff, With gowns of rich delight." A Warning-Piece to England. The queen (Anne Neville) of Richard III. seems to have been somewhat more regally accoutred than those of her royal predecessors to whom we referred in the last chapter. Among "the stuff delivered to the queen at her coronation are twenty-seven yards of white cloth of gold for a kirtle and train, and a mantle of the same, richly furred with ermine. This was the dress in which she rode in her litter from the Tower to the palace of Westminster. This was an age of long trains, and the length was regulated by the rank of the wearer; Anne, for her whole purple velvet suit, had fifty-six yards. From the entries of scarlet cloth given to the nobility for mantles on this occasion, we find that duchesses had thirteen yards, countesses ten, and baronesses eight." The costume of Henry VII.'s day differed little from that of Edward IV., except in the use of shirts bordered with lace and richly trimmed with ornamental needlework, which continued a long time in vogue amongst the nobility and gentry. A slight inspection of the inventories of Henry VIII.'s apparel will convince us of a truth which we should otherwise, readily have guessed, viz., that no expense and no splendour were spared in the "swashing costume" of his day. Its general aspect is too familiar to us to require much comment. We may remark, however, that four several acts were passed in his reign for the reformation of apparel, and that all but the royal family were prohibited from wearing "any cloth of gold of purpure colour, or silk of the same colour," upon pain of forfeiture of the same and £20 for every offence. Shirt bands and ruffles of gold were worn by the privileged, but none under the degree of knight were permitted to decorate their shirts with silk, gold, or silver. Henry VIII.'s "knitte gloves of silk" are particularly referred to, and also his "handkerchers" edged with gold, silver, or fine needlework. These handkerchiefs, wrought with gold and silver, were not uncommon in the after-times. In the ballad of George Barnwell, it is said of Milwood-- "A handkerchief she had, All wrought with silk and gold, Which she, to stay her trickling tears, Before her eyes did hold." In the east these handkerchiefs are common, and it is still a favourite occupation of the Egyptian ladies to embroider them. We are surprised now to find to what minute particulars legal enactments descended. "No husbandman, shepherd, or common labourer to any artificer, out of cities or boroughs (having no goods of their own above the value of £10), shall use or wear any cloth the broad yard whereof passeth 2_s._ 4_d._, or any hose above the price of 12_d._ the yard, upon pain of imprisonment in the stocks for three days." It was in a subsequent reign, that of Mary, that a proclamation was issued that no man should "weare his shoes above sixe inches _square_ at the toes." We have before seen that the attention of the grave and learned members of the Senate, the "Conscript Fathers" of England, was devoted to the due regulation of this interesting part of apparel, when the shoe-toes were worn so long that they were obliged to be tied up to the waist ere the happy and privileged wearer could set his foot on the ground. Now, however, "a change came o'er the spirit of the day," and it became the duty of those who exercised a paternal surveillance over the welfare of the community at large to legislate regarding the _breadth_ of the shoe-toes, that they should not be above "sixe inches square." "Great," was anciently the cry--"Great is Diana of the Ephesians;" but how immeasurably greater and mightier has been, through that and all succeeding ages, the supreme potentate who with a mesh of flimsy gauze or fragile silk has constrained nations as by a shackle of iron, that shadowy, unsubstantial, ever-fleeting, yet ever-exacting deity--FASHION! At her shrine worship all the nations of the earth. The savage who bores his nose or tattooes his tawny skin is impelled by the same power which robes the courtly Eastern in flowing garments; and the dark-hued beauty who smears herself with blubber is influenced by the selfsame motive which causes the fair-haired daughter of England to tint her delicate cheek with the mimic rose. And it is not merely in the shape and form of garments that this deity exercises her tyrannic sway, transforming "men into monsters," and women likewise--if it were possible: her vagaries are infinite and unaccountable; yet, how unaccountable soever, have ever numberless and willing votaries. It was once the _fashion_ for people who either were or fancied themselves to be in love to prove the sincerity of their passion by the fortitude with which they could bear those extremes of heat and cold from which unsophisticated _nature_ would shrink. These "penitents of love," for so the fraternity--and a pretty numerous one it was--was called, would clothe themselves in the dog-days in the thickest mantles lined throughout with the warmest fur: when the winds howled, the hail beat, and snow invested the earth with a freezing mantle, they wore the thinnest and most fragile garments. It was forbidden to wear fur on a day of the most piercing cold, or to appear with a hood, cloak, gloves, or muff. They supposed or pretended that the deity whom they thus propitiated was LOVE: we aver that the autocrat under whose irreversible decrees they thus succumbed--was FASHION. And, after all, who is this all-powerful genius? What is her appearance? Whence does she arise? Did she alight from the skies, while rejoicing stars sang Pæans at her birth? Was she born of the Sunbeams while a glittering Rainbow cast a halo of glory around her? or did she spring from Ocean while Nereids revelled around, and Mermaids strung their Harps with their own golden locks, soft melodies the while floating along the glistering waves, and echoing from the Tritons' booming shells beneath? No. Alas, no! She is subtle as the air; she is evanescent as a sunbeam, and unsubstantial as the ocean's froth;--but she is none of these. She is--but we will lay aside our own definition in order that the reader may have the advantage of that of one of the greatest and wisest of statesmen. "Quelqu'un qui voudrait un peu étudier d'où part en première source ce qu'on appelle LES MODES verrait, à notre honte, qu'un petit nombre de gens, de la plus méprisable espèce qui soit dans une ville, laquelle renferme tout indifféremment dans son sein; pour qui, si nous les connaissions, nous n'aurions que le mépris qu'on a pour les gens sans moeurs, ou la pitié qu'on a pour les fous, disposent pourtant de nos bourses, et nous tiennent assujettis à tous leurs caprices." Can this indeed be that supereminent deity for whom so "many do shipwrack their credits," and make themselves "ridiculous apes, or at best but like the cynnamon-tree, whose bark is more worth than its body." "Clothes" writes a venerable historian, "are for necessity; warm clothes for health; cleanly for decency; lasting for thrift; and rich for magnificence. Now, there may be a fault in their number, if too various; making, if too vain; matter, if too costly; and mind of the wearer, if he takes pride therein. "_He that is proud of the russling of his silks, like a madman laughs at the rattling of his fetters._ For, indeed, clothes ought to be our remembrancers of our lost innocency. Besides, why should any brag of what's but borrowed? Should the Estrige snatch off the Gallant's feather, the Beaver his hat, the Goat his gloves, the Sheep his sute, the Silkworm his stockings, and Neat his shoes (to strip him no farther than modesty will give leave), he would be left in a cold condition. And yet 'tis more pardonable to be proud, even of cleanly rags, than (as many are) of affected slovennesse. The one is proud of a molehill, the other of a dunghill." But the worthy Fuller's ideal picture of suitable dress was the very antipodes of the reality of Elizabeth's day, when that rage for foreign fashions existed which has since frequently almost inundated the island, and our ancestors masked themselves "------in garish gaudery To suit a fool's far-fetched livery. A French hood join'd to neck Italian, The thighs from Germany and breast from Spain. An Englishman in none, a fool in all, Many in one, and one in several." And Shakspeare, who has perhaps suffered no peculiarity of his time to escape observation, makes Portia satirize this affectation in her English admirer:--"How oddly he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behaviour everywhere." A reverend critic thus remarks on the luxurious modes of his time: "These tender Parnels must have one gown for the day, another for the night; one long, another short; one for winter, another for summer. One furred through, another but faced; one for the workday, another for the holiday. One of this colour, another of that. One of cloth, another of silk or damask. Change of apparel; one afore dinner, another at after: one of Spanish fashion, another of Turkey. And to be brief, never content with enough, but always devising new fashions and strange. Yea, a ruffian will have more in his ruff and his hose than he should spend in a year. He which ought to go in a russet coat spends as much on apparel for him and his wife as his father would have kept a good house with." The following is of later date, and seems, somewhat unjustly we think, to satirize the fair sex alone. "Why do women array themselves in such fantastical dresses and quaint devices; with gold, with silver, with coronets, with pendants, bracelets, earrings, chains, rings, pins, spangles, embroideries, shadows, rebatoes, versicoloured ribbons, feathers, fans, masks, furs, laces, tiffanies, ruffs, falls, calls, cuffs, damasks, velvets, tassels, golden cloth, silver tissue, precious stones, stars, flowers, birds, beasts, fishes, crisped locks, wigs, painted faces, bodkins, setting sticks, cork, whalebone, sweet odours, and whatever else Africa, Asia, and America can produce; flaying their faces to produce the fresher complexion of a new skin, and using more time in dressing than Cæsar took in marshalling his army,--but that, like cunning falconers, they wish to spread false lures to catch unwary larks, and lead by their gaudy baits and dazzling charms the minds of inexperienced youth into the traps of love?" Though the costume of Elizabeth's day, especially at the period of her coronation was, splendid, it had not attained to the ridiculous extravagance which at a later period elicited the above-quoted strictures; and we are told that her own taste at an early period of life was simple and unostentatious. Her dress and appearance are thus described by Aylmer, Lady Jane Grey's tutor, and afterwards Bishop of London. "The king (Henry VIII.) left her rich clothes and jewels; and I know it to be true, that, in seven years after her father's death, she never in all that time looked upon that rich attire and precious jewels but once, and that against her will. And that there never came gold or stone upon her head, till her sister forced her to lay off her former soberness, and bear her company in her glittering gayness. And then she so wore it as every man might see that her body carried that which her heart misliked. I am sure that her maidenly apparel, which she used in King Edward's time, made noblemen's daughters and wives to be ashamed to be dressed and painted like peacocks; being more moved with her most virtuous example than with all that ever Paul or Peter wrote touching that matter. Yea, this I know, that a great man's daughter (Lady Jane Grey) receiving from Lady Mary, before she was queen, good apparel of tinsel, cloth of gold and velvet, laid on with parchment-lace of gold, when she saw it, said, 'What shall I do with it?' 'Marry!' said a gentlewoman, 'wear it.' 'Nay,' quoth she, 'that were a shame, to follow my Lady Mary against God's Word, and leave my Lady Elizabeth, which followeth God's Word.' And when all the ladies, at the coming of the Scots' Queen Dowager, Mary of Guise, (she who visited England in Edward's time), went with their hair frownsed, curled, and double-curled, she altered nothing, but kept her old maidenly shame-facedness." And there is a print from a portrait of her when young, in which the hair is without a single ornament, and the whole dress remarkably simple. Yet this is the lady whose passion for dress in after life could not be sated; to whom, or at least before whom (and the Queen was not slow in appropriating and resenting the hint[109]), Latimer, Bishop of London, thought it necessary to preach on the vanity of decking the body too finely; and who finally left behind her a wardrobe containing three thousand dresses. A modern fair one may wonder how such a profusion of dresses could be accommodated at all, even in a royal wardrobe, with fitting respect to the integrity of puffs and furbelows. But clothes were not formerly kept in drawers, where but few can be laid with due regard to the safety of each, but were hung up on wooden pegs, in a room appropriated to the sole purpose of receiving them; and though such cast-off things as were composed of rich substances were occasionally _ripped_ for domestic uses (viz., mantles for infants, vests for children, and counterpanes for beds), articles of inferior quality were suffered to _hang by the walls_ till age and moths had destroyed what pride would not permit to be worn by servants or poor relations. To this practice, also, does Shakspeare allude: Imogen exclaims, in 'Cymbeline,'-- "Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion; And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls, I must be ripp'd--" The following regulations may be interesting; and the knowledge of them will doubtless excite feelings of joy and gratitude in our fair readers that they are born in an age where "will is free," and the dustman's wife may, if it so please her, outshine the duchess, without the terrors of Parliament before her eyes:-- "By the Queene. "Whereas the Queene's Maiestie, for avoyding of the great inconvenience that hath growen and dayly doeth increase within this her Realme, by the inordinate excesse in Apparel, hath in her Princely wisdome and care for reformation thereof, by sundry former Proclamations, straightly charged and commanded those in Authoritie under her to see her Lawes provided in that behalfe duely executed; Whereof notwithstanding, partly through their negligence, and partly by the manifest contempt and disobedience of the parties offending, no reformation at all hath followed; Her Maiestie, finding by experience that by Clemencie, whereunto she is most inclinable, so long as there is any hope of redresse, this increasing evill hath not beene cured, hath thought fit to seeke to remedie the same by correction and severitie, to be used against both these kindes of offenders, in regard of the present difficulties of this time; wherein the decay and lacke of hospitalitie appeares in the better sort in all countreys, principally occasioned by the immeasurable charges and expenses which they are put to in superfluous apparelling their wives, children, and families, the confusion also of degrees in all places being great; where the meanest are as richly apparelled as their betters, and the pride that such inferior persons take in their garments, driving many for their maintenance to robbing and stealing by the hieway, &c. &c. "Her Maiestie doth straightly charge and command-- "That none under the degree of a Countess wear: Cloth of gold or silver tissued; Silke of coulor purple. "Under the degree of a Baronesse:-- Cloth of golde; Cloth of silver; Tinselled satten; Sattens branched with silver or golde; Sattens striped with silver or golde; Taffaties brancht with silver or golde; Cipresses flourisht with silver or golde; Networks wrought in silver or golde; Tabines brancht with silver or golde; Or any other silke or cloth mixt or embroidered with pearle, golde, or silver. "Under the degree of a Baron's eldest sonne's wife: Any embroideries of golde or silver; Passemaine lace, or any other lace, mixed with golde, silver, or silke; Caules, attires, or other garnishings for the head trimmed with pearle. "Under the degree of a Knighte's wife:-- Velvet in gownes, cloakes, savegards, or other uppermost garments; Embroidery with silke. "Under the degree of a Knighte's eldest sonne's wife:-- Velvet in kirtles and petticoates; Sattens in gownes, cloakes, savegards, or other uppermost garments. "Under the degree of a Gentleman's wife, bearing armes:-- Satten in kirtles, } Damaske, } Tuft taffetie, } in gownes." Plaine taffetie, } Grograine } Venice and Paris seem to have been the chief sources of fashion; from these depôts of taste were derived the flaunting head-dresses, the "shiptire," the "tire valiant," &c., which were commonly worn in these days of gorgeous finery, and which were rendered still more _outré_ and unnatural by the _dyed_ locks which they surmounted. The custom of dyeing the hair is of great antiquity, and was very prevalent in the East. Mohammed dyed his hair red; Abu Bekr his successor did the same, and it is a custom among the Scenite Arabs even to this day. The ancients often mixed gold dust in their hair, and the Gauls used to wash the hair with a liquid which had a tendency to redden it. It was doubtless in personal compliment to Queen Elizabeth, that all the fashionables of her day dyed their locks of a hue which is generally considered the reverse of attraction. Periwigs, which were introduced into England about 1572, were to be had of _all colours_. It is in allusion to this absurd fashion that Benedick says of the lady whom he might chuse to marry:--"Her hair shall be of what colour it please God." Men first wore wigs in Charles the Second's time; and these were gradually increased in size, until they reached the acme of their magnificence in the reign of William and Mary, when not only men, but even young lads and children were disguised in enormous wigs. And though in the reign of Queen Anne this latter custom was not so common, yet the young men had the want of wigs supplied by artificial curlings, and dressing of the hair, which was then only performed by the women. One Bill preserved amongst the Harl. MSS. runs thus:-- "Next door to the Golden Ball, in St. Bride's Lane, Fleet Street, Lyveth Lidia Beercraft. Who cutteth and curleth ladies, gentlemen, and children's hair. She sells a fine pomatum, which is mixed with ingredients of her own making, that if the hair be never so thin, it makes it grow thick; and if short, it makes it grow long. If any gentleman's or children's hair be never so lank, she makes it curle in a little time, and to look like a periwig." And this, indeed, the looking like a periwig, seems to have been then the very _beau ideal_ of all beauty and perfection, for another fair tonsoress advertises to cut and curl hair after the French fashion, "after so fine a manner, that _you shall not know it to be their own hair_." How applicable to these absurdities are the lines of an amiable censor of a later day!-- "We have run Through ev'ry change, that Fancy, at the loom Exhausted, has had genius to supply; And, studious of mutation still, discard A real elegance, a little us'd, For monstrous novelty and strange disguise." To return to Elizabeth:-- The best known, and most distinguishing characteristic of the costume of her day was the ruff; which was worn of such enormous size that a lady in full dress was obliged to feed herself with a spoon two feet long. In the year 1580, sumptuary laws were published by proclamation, and enforced with great exactness, by which the ruffs were reduced to legal dimensions. Extravagant prices were paid for them, and they were made at first of fine holland, but early in Elizabeth's reign they began to wear lawn and cambric, which were brought to England in very small quantities, and sold charily by the yard or half yard; for there was then hardly one shopkeeper in fifty who dared to speculate in a whole piece of either. So "strange and wonderful was this stuff," says Stowe, speaking of lawn, "that thereupon rose a general scoff or byeword, that shortly they would wear ruffs of a spider's web." And another difficulty arose; for when the Queen had ruffs made of this new and beautiful fabric, there was nobody in England who could starch or stiffen them; but happily Her Grace found a Dutchwoman possessed of that knowledge which England could not supply, and "Guillan's wife was the first starcher the Queen had, as Guillan himself was the first coachman." "Afterward, in 1564, (16th of Elizabeth), one Mistress Dinghen Vauden Plasse, born at Teenen in Flanders, daughter of a worshipful knight of that province, with her husband, came to London, and there professed herself a starcher, wherein she excelled; unto whom her own nation presently repaired and employed her, rewarding her very liberally for her work. Some of the curious ladies of that time, observing the neatness of the Dutch, and the nicety of their linen, made them cambric ruffs, and sent them to Mistress Dinghen to starch; soon after they began to send their daughters and kinswomen to Mistress Dinghen, to learn how to starch; her usual price was, at that time, 4_l._ or 5_l._ to teach them to starch, and 20_s._ to learn them to see the starch. This Mrs. Dinghen was the first that ever taught starching in England." The RUFFS were adjusted by poking sticks of iron, steel, or silver, heated in the fire--(probably something answering to our Italian iron), and in May 1582 a lady of Antwerp, being invited to a wedding, could not, although she employed two celebrated laundresses, get her ruff plaited according to her taste, upon which "she fell to sweare and teare, to curse and ban, casting the ruffes under feete, and wishing that the devill might take her when shee did wear any neckerchers againe." This gentleman, whom it is said an invocation will always summon, now appeared in the likeness of a favoured suitor, and inquiring the cause of her agitation, he "took in hande the setting of her ruffes, which he performed to her great contentation and liking; insomuch, as she, looking herself in a glasse (as the devill bade her) became greatly enamoured with him. This done, the young man kissed her, in the doing whereof, he writhed her neck in sunder, so she died miserably." But here comes the marvel: four men tried in vain to lift her "fearful body" when coffined for interment; six were equally unsuccessful; "whereat the standers-by marvelling, caused the coffin to be opened to see the cause thereof: where they found the body to be taken away, and a blacke catte, very leane and deformed, sitting in the coffin, _setting of great ruffes and frizling of haire_, to the great feare and woonder of all the beholders." The large hoop farthingales were worn now, but they were said to be adopted by the ladies from a laudable spirit of emulation, a praiseworthy desire on their parts to be of equal standing with the "nobler sex," who now wore breeches, stuffed with rags or other materials to such an enormous size, that a bench of extraordinary dimension was placed round the parliament house, (of which the traces were visible at a very late period) solely for their accommodation. Strutt quotes an instance of a man whom the judges accused of wearing breeches contrary to the law (for a law was made against them): he, for his excuse, drew out of his slops the contents; at first a pair of sheets, two table-cloths, ten napkins, four shirts, a brush, a glass, and a comb; with nightcaps and other things of use, saying, "Your worship may understand, that because I have no safer a storehouse, these pockets do serve me for a room to lay up my goods in,--and, though it be a strait prison, yet it is big enough for them, for I have many things of value yet within it." His excuse was heartily laughed at and accepted. This ridiculous fashion was for a short time disused, but revived again in 1614. The breeches were then chiefly stuffed with hair. Many satirical rhymes were written upon them; amongst others, "A lamentable complaint of the poore Countrye Men agaynst great hose, for the loss of their cattelles tales." In which occur these:-- "What hurt, what damage doth ensue, And fall upon the poore, For want of wool and flaxe, of late, Whych monstrous hose devoure. "But haire hath so possess'd, of late, The bryche of every knave, That no one beast, nor horse can tell, Whiche way his taile to save." Henry VIII. had received a few pairs of silk stockings from Spain, but knitted silk ones were not known until the second year of Elizabeth, when her silk-woman, Mrs. Montague, presented to Her Majesty a pair of black knit silk stockings, for a new-year's gift, with which she was so much pleased that she desired to know if the donor could not help her to any more, to which Mrs. Montague answered, "I made them carefully on purpose for your Majestie; and seeing they please you so well, I will presently set more in hand." "Do so (said the Queen), for I like silk stockings so well, that I will not henceforth wear any more cloth hose." These shortly became common; though even over so simple an article as a stocking, Fashion asserted her supremacy, and at a subsequent period they were two yards wide at the top, and made fast to the "petticoat breeches," by means of strings through eyelet holes. But Elizabeth's predilection for rich attire is well known, and if the costume of her day was fantastic, it was still magnificent. A suit trimmed with sables was considered the richest dress worn by men; and so expensive was this fur, that, it is said a thousand ducats were sometimes given for "a face of sables." It was towards the close of her reign that the celebrated Gabrielle d'Estrées wore on a festive occasion a dress of black satin, so ornamented with pearls and precious stones, that she could scarcely move under its weight. She had a handkerchief, for the embroidering of which she engaged to pay 1900 crowns. And such it was said was the influence of her example in Paris, that the ladies ornamented even their shoes with jewels. Yet even this costly magnificence was afterwards surpassed by that of Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, with whom it was common, even at an ordinary dancing, to have his clothes trimmed with great diamond buttons, and to have diamond hatbands, cockades, and earrings, to be yoked with great and manifold ropes and knots of pearl; in short, to be manacled, fettered, and imprisoned in jewels: insomuch that at his going to Paris in 1625, he had twenty-seven suits of clothes made, the richest that embroidery, lace, silk, velvet, gold, and gems could contribute; one of which was a white uncut velvet set all over, both suit and cloak, with diamonds valued at fourscore thousand pounds, besides a great feather, stuck all over with diamonds, as were also his sword, girdle, hatband, and spurs.[110] It would but weary our readers were we to dwell on the well-known peculiarities of the "Cavalier and Roundhead" days; and tell how the steeple-crowned hat was replaced at the Restoration by the plumed and jewelled velvet; the forlorn, smooth, methodistical pate, by the curled ringlets and flowing lovelock; the sober, sombre, "sad" coloured garment, with its starched folds, by the gay, varied, flowing drapery of all hues. Then, how the plume of feathers gave way to the simpler band and buckle, and the thick large curling wig and full ruffle, to the bagwig, the tie, and stock. The dashing cloak and slashed sleeves were succeeded by the coat of ample dimensions, and the waistcoat with interminable pockets resting on the knees; the "breeches" were in universal use, though they were not of the universal "black" which Cowper immortalises; but "black breeches" and "powder" have had their reign, and are succeeded by the "inexpressible" costume of the present day. We will conclude a chapter, which we fear to have spun out tediously, by Lady Morgan's animated account of the introduction, in France, of that universally-coveted article of dress--a Cashmir shawl:-- "While partaking of a sumptuous collation (at Rouen), the conversation naturally turned on the splendid views which the windows commanded, and on the subjects connected with their existence. The flocks, which were grazing before us had furnished the beautiful shawls which hung on the backs of the chairs occupied by our fair companions, and which might compete with the turbans of the Grand Signor. It would be difficult now to persuade a Parisian _petite maitresse_ that there was a time when French women of fashion could exist without a cashmir, or that such an indispensable article of the toilet and _sultan_ was unknown even to the most elegant. 'The first cashemir that appeared in France,' said Madame D'Aubespine, (for an educated French woman has always something worth hearing to say on all subjects,) 'was sent over by Baron de Tott, then in the service of the Porte, to Madame de Tessé. When they were produced in her society, every body thought them very fine, but nobody knew what use to make of them. It was determined that they would make pretty _couvre-pieds_ and veils for the cradle; but the fashion wore out with the shawls, and ladies returned to their eider-down quilts.' "Monsieur Ternaux observed that 'though the produce of the Cashmerian looms had long been known in Europe, they did not become a vogue until after Napoleon's expedition to Egypt; and that even then they took, in the first instance, but slowly.' The shawl was still a novelty in France, when Josephine, as yet but the wife of the First Consul, knew not how to drape its elegant folds, and stood indebted to the _brusque_ Rapp for the grace with which she afterwards wore it. "'Permettez que je vous fasse l'observation,' said Rapp, as they were setting off for the opera; 'que votre schall n'est pas mis avec cette grâce qui vous est habituelle.' "Josephine laughingly let him arrange it in the manner of the Egyptian women. This impromptu toilette caused a little delay, and the infernal machine exploded in vain! "What destinies waited upon the arrangement of this cashemir! A moment sooner or later, and the shawl might have given another course to events, which would have changed the whole face of Europe."[111] The Empress Josephine (says her biographer) had quite a passion for shawls, and I question whether any collection of them was ever as valuable as hers. At Navarre she had one hundred and fifty, all extremely beautiful and high-priced. She sent designs to Constantinople, and the shawls made after these patterns were as beautiful as they were valuable. Every week M. Lenormant came to Navarre, and sold her whatever he could obtain that was curious in this way. I have seen white shawls covered with roses, bluebells, perroquets, peacocks, &c., which I believe were not to be met with any where else in Europe; they were valued at 15,000 and 20,000 francs each. The shawls were at length sold _by auction_ at Malmaison, at a rate much below their value. All Paris went to the sale. FOOTNOTES: [109] "Her Majesty told the ladies, that if the Bishop held more discourse on such matters, she would fit him for heaven; but he should walk thither without a staff, and leave his mantle behind him." [110] Life of Raleigh, by Oldys. [111] Lady Morgan's France in 1829-30. CHAPTER XV. THE FIELD OF THE CLOTH OF GOLD. "Where are the proud and lofty dames, Their jewell'd crowns, their gay attire, Their odours sweet? Where are the love-enkindled flames, The bursts of passionate desire Laid at their feet? Where are the songs, the troubadours, The music which delighted then?-- It speaks no more. Where is the dance that shook the floors, And all the gay and laughing train, And all they wore? "The royal gifts profusely shed, The palaces so proudly built, With riches stor'd; The roof with shining gold o'erspread, The services of silver gilt, The secret hoard, The Arabian pards, the harness bright, The bending plumes, the crowded mews, The lacquey train, Where are they?--where!--all lost in night, And scatter'd as the early dews Across the plain." Bowring's Anc. Span. Romances. Romance and song have united to celebrate the splendours of the "Field of the Cloth of Gold." The most scrupulously minute and faithful of recorders has detailed day by day, and point by point, its varied and showy routine, and every subsequent historian has borrowed from the pages of the old chronicler; and these dry details have been so expanded by the breath of Fancy, and his skeleton frame has been so fleshed by the magical drapery of talent, that there seems little left on which the imagination can dilate, or the pen expatiate. The astonishing impulse which has in various ways within the last few years been given to the searching of ancient records, and the development of hitherto obscure and comparatively uninteresting details, and vesting them in an alluring garb, has made us as familiar with the domestic records of the eighth Henry, as in our school-days we were with the orthodox abstract of necessary historical information,--that "Henry the Eighth ascended the throne in the 18th year of his age;" that "he became extremely corpulent;" that "he married six wives, and beheaded two." Not even affording gratuitously the codicil which the talent of some writer hath educed--that "if Henry the Eighth had not beheaded his wives, there would have been no impeachment on his gallantry to the fair sex." But in describing this, according to some, "the most magnificent spectacle that Europe ever beheld," and to others, "a heavy mass of allegory and frippery," historians have been contented to pourtray the outward features of the gorgeous scene, and have slightly, if at all, touched on the contending feelings which were veiled beneath a broad though thin surface of concord and joy. Truly, it were a task of deep interest, even slightly to picture them, or to attempt to enter into the feelings of the chief actors on that field. First and foremost, as the guiding spirit of the whole, as the mighty artificer of that pageant on which, however gaudy in its particulars the fates of Europe were supposed to depend, and the earnest eyes of Europe were certainly fixed--comes WOLSEY.--Gorgeously habited himself, and the burnished gold of his saddle cloth only partially relieved by the more sombre crimson velvet; nay, his very shoes gleaming with brilliants, and himself withal so lofty in bearing, of so noble a presence, that this very magnificence seemed but a natural appendage, Wolsey took his lofty way from monarch to monarch; and so well did he become his dignity, that none but kings, and such kings as Henry and Francis, would have drawn the eyes of the myriad spectators from himself. And surely he was now happy; surely his ambition was now gratified to the uttermost; now, in the eyes of all Europe did the two proudest of her princes not merely associate with him almost as an equal, but openly yield to his suggestions--almost bow to his decisions. No--loftily as he bore himself, courtly as was his demeanour, rapid and commanding as was his eloquence, and influential as seemed his opinions on all and every one around--the cardinal had a mind ill at ease, as, despite his self-control, was occasionally testified by his contracted brow and thoughtful aspect. After exerting all the might of his mighty influence, and for his own aggrandisement, to procure this meeting between the two potentates, he had at the last moment seen fit to alter his policy. He had sold himself to a higher bidder; he had pledged himself to Charles in the very teeth of his solemn engagement to Francis. Even whilst celebrating this league of amity, he was turning in his own mind the means by which to rupture it; and was yet withal, nervously fearful of any accident which should prematurely break it, or lead to a discovery of his own faithlessness.--So much for his enjoyment! Our KING HENRY was all delight, and eager impetuous enjoyment. He had not outlived the good promise of his youth; nor had his foibles become, by indulgence, vices. He loved to see all around him happy; he loved, more especially, to make them so. He delighted in all the exercises of the field; he was unrivalled in the tilt and the tournament; and when engaged in them forgot kings and kingdoms. His vanity, outrageous as it was, hardly sat ungracefully on him, so much was it elevated then by buoyant good humour--so much was it softened at that time by his noble presence, his manly grace, his kingly accomplishments, and his regal munificence. The stern and selfish tyrant whom one shudders to think upon, was then only "bluff King Hal," loving and beloved, courted and caressed by an empire. He gave himself up to the gaieties of the time without a care for the present, a thought for the future. Could he have glanced dimly into that future! But he could not, and he was happy. FRANCIS was admirably qualified to grace this scene, and to enjoy it, as probably he did enjoy it, vividly. Yet was this gratification by no means unalloyed. His gentle manly nature was irritated at certain stipulations of Henry's advisers, by which their most trivial intercourse was subjected to specific regulations. There were recorded instances enough of treacherous advantages taken to justify fully this conduct on the part of Henry's ministers; but Francis felt its injustice, as applied to himself, and at that time, made use of a generous and well-known stratagem to convince others. But in the midst of his enjoyments he had misgivings on his mind of a more serious nature, caused by the Emperor's recent visit to Dover. These misgivings were increased by the meeting between Henry and Charles at Gravelines; and too surely confirmed by quickly-following circumstances. The gentle and good KATHARINE of England, and the equally amiable Queen CLAUDE, the carefully-trained stepdaughter of the noble and admirable Anne of Bretagne, probably derived their chief gratification here from the pleasure of seeing their husbands amicable and happy. For queens though they were, their happiness was in domestic life, and their chief empire was over the hearts of those domesticated with them. Not so the DOWAGER QUEEN of France--the lively, and graceful, and beautiful Duchess of Suffolk; for though very fond of her royal brother, and devoted to her gallant husband, she had yet an eye and an ear for all the revelries around, and had a radiant glance and a beaming smile for all who crowded to do homage to her charms. And yet her heart must have been somewhat hard--and that we know it was not--if she could have inhaled the air of France, or trod its sunny soil, without recollections which must have dimmed her eye at the thoughts of the past, even whilst breathing a thanksgiving for the present. Somewhat less than five years ago, she had been taken thither a weeping bride; youth, nature, inclination, nay, hope itself, sacrificed to that expediency by which the actions of monarchs are regulated. We are accustomed to read these things so much as mere historical memoranda, to look upon them in their cold unvarnished simplicity of detail, like the rigid outlines of stiff old portraits which we can scarcely suppose were ever meant to represent living flesh and blood--that it requires a strong effort to picture these circumstances to our eyes as actually occurring. In considering the state policy of the thing--and the apparent national advantage of the King of England's sister being married to the King of France--we forget that this King of England's sister was a fair young creature, with warm heart, gushing affections, and passions and feelings just opening in all the vividness of early womanhood; and that she was condemned to marry a sickly, querulous, elderly man, who began his loving rule by dismissing at once, even while she was "a stranger in a foreign land," every endeared friend and attendant who had accompanied her thither; and that, worse than all, her young affections had been sought and gained by a noble English gentleman, the favourite of the English king, and the pride of his Court. Surely her lot was hard; and well might she weepingly exclaim, "Where is now my hope?" Little could she suppose (for Louis, though infirm, was not aged) that three or four short months would see her not only at liberty from her enforced vows, but united to the man of her heart. Must there not, while watching the tilting of her graceful and gallant husband, must there not have been melancholy in her mirth?--must there not, in the keen encounter of wits during the banquet or the ball--must there not have mingled method with her madness? Who shall record, or even refer to the hopes, and feelings, and wishes, and thoughts, and reflections of the thousands congregated thither; each one with feelings as intense, with hopes as individually important as those which influenced the royal King of France, or the majestic monarch of England! The loftiest of Christendom's knights, the loveliest of Christendom's daughters were assembled here; and the courteous Bayard, the noble Tremouille, the lofty Bourbon, felt inspired more gallantly, if possible, than was even their wont, when contending in all love and amity with the proudest of England's champions, in presence of the fairest of her blue-eyed maidens,--the noblest of her courtly dames. Nor were the lofty and noble alone there congregated. After the magnificent structure for the king and court, after every thing in the shape of a tenement in, out, or about the little town of Guisnes, and the neighbouring hamlets, were occupied, two thousand eight hundred tents were set up on the side of the English alone. No noble or baron would be absent; but likewise knights, and squires, and yeomen flocked to the scene: citizens and city wives disported their richest silks and their heaviest chains; jews went for gain, pedlars for knavery, tradespeople for their craft, rogues for mischief. Then there were "vagaboundes, plowmen, laborers, wagoners, and beggers, that for drunkennes lay in routes and heapes, so great resorte thether came, that bothe knightes and ladies that wer come to see the noblenes, were faine to lye in haye and strawe, and hold theim thereof highly pleased." The accommodations provided for the king and privileged members of his court on this occasion were more than magnificent; a vast and splendid edifice that seemed to be endued with the magnificence, and to rise almost with the celerity of that prepared by the slaves of the lamp, where the richest tapestry and silk embroidery--the costliest produce of the most accomplished artisans, were almost unnoticed amid the gold and jewellery by which they were surrounded--where all that art could produce, or riches devise had been lavished--all this has been often described. And the tent itself, the nucleus of the show, the point where the "brother" kings were to confer, was hung round with cloth of gold: the posts, the cones, the cords, the tents, were all of the same precious metal, which glittered here in such excessive profusion as to give that title to the meeting which has superseded all others--"The Field of the Cloth of Gold." This gaudy pageant was the prelude to an era of great interest, for while dwelling on the "galanty shew" we cannot forget that now reigned Solyman the magnificent, and that this was the age of Leo the Tenth; that Charles the Fifth was now beginning his influential course; that a Sir Thomas More graced England; and that in Germany there was "one Martin Luther," who "belonged to an order of strolling friars." Under Leo's munificent encouragement, Rafaello produced those magnificent creations which have been the inspiration of subsequent ages; and at home, under Wolsey's enlightened patronage, colleges were founded, learning was encouraged, and the College of Physicians first instituted in 1518, found in him one of its warmest advocates and firmest supporters. A modern writer gives the following amusing picture of part of the bustle attendant on the event we are considering. "The palace (of Westminster) and all its precincts became the elysium of tailors, embroiderers, and sempstresses. There might you see many a shady form gliding about from apartment to apartment, with smiling looks and extended shears, or armed with ell-wands more potent than Mercury's rod, driving many a poor soul to perdition, and transforming his goodly acres into velvet suits, with tags of cloth of gold. So continual were the demands upon every kind of artisan, that the impossibility of executing them threw several into despair. One tailor who is reported to have undertaken to furnish fifty embroidered suits in three days, on beholding the mountain of gold and velvet that cumbered his shop-board, saw, like Brutus, the impossibility of victory, and, with Roman fortitude, fell on his own shears. Three armourers are said to have been completely melted with the heat of their furnaces; and an unfortunate goldsmith swallowed molten silver to escape the persecutions of the day. "The road from London to Canterbury was covered during one whole week with carts and waggons, mules, horses, and soldiers; and so great was the confusion, that marshals were at length stationed to keep the whole in order, which of course increased the said confusion a hundred fold. So many were the ships passing between Dover and Calais, that the historians affirm they jostled each other on the road like a herd of great black porkers. "The King went from station to station like a shepherd, driving all the better classes of the country before him, and leaving not a single straggler behind." Though we do not implicitly credit every point of this humorous statement, we think a small portion of description from the old chronicler Hall (we will really inflict _only_ a small portion on our readers) will justify a good deal of it; but more especially it will enlighten us as to some of the elaborate conceits of the day, in which, it seems, the needle was as fully occupied as the pen. Indeed, what would the "Field of the Cloth of Gold" have been without the skill of the needlewoman? _Would it have been at all?_ "The Frenche kyng sette hymself on a courser barded, covered with purple sattin, broched with golde, and embraudered with corbyns fethers round and buckeled; the fether was blacke and hached with gold. Corbyn is a rauen, and the firste silable of corbyn is _Cor_, whiche is a harte, a penne in English, is a fether in Frenche, and signifieth pain, and so it stode; this fether round was endles, the buckels wherwith the fethers wer fastened, betokeneth sothfastnes, thus was the devise, _harte fastened in pain endles, or pain in harte fastened endles_. "Wednesdaie the 13 daie of June, the twoo hardie kynges armed at all peces, entered into the feld right nobly appareled, the Frenche kyng and all his parteners of chalenge were arraied in purple sattin, broched with golde and purple velvet, embrodered with litle rolles of white sattin wherein was written _quando_, all bardes and garmentes wer set full of the same, and all the residue where was no rolles, were poudered and set with the letter ell as thus, L, whiche in Frenche is she, which was interpreted to be _quando elle_, when she, and ensuyng the devise of the first daie it signifieth together, _harte fastened in pain endles, when she_. "The Frenche kyng likewise armed at al pointes mounted on a courser royal, all his apparel as wel bardes as garmentes were purple velvet, entred the one with the other, embrodred ful of litle bookes of white satten, and in the bokes were written _a me_; aboute the borders of the bardes and the borders of the garmentes, a chaine of blewe like iron, resemblyng the chayne of a well or prison chaine, whiche was enterpreted to be _liber_, a booke; within this boke was written as is sayed, _a me_, put these two together, and it maketh _libera me_; the chayne betokeneth prison or bondes, and so maketh together in Englishe, _deliver me of {bondes}_; put to {the} reason, the fyrst day, second day, and third day of chaunge, for he chaunged but the second day, and it is _hart fastened in paine endles, when she deliuereth me not of bondes_; thus was thinterpretation made, but whether it were so in all thinges or not I may not say." The following animated picture from an author already quoted, has been drawn of this spirit-stirring scene:-- "Upon a large open green, that extended on the outside of the walls, was to be seen a multitude of tents of all kinds and colours, with a multitude of busy human beings, employed in raising fresh pavilions on every open space, or in decorating those already spread with streamers, pennons, and banners of all the bright hues under the sun. Long lines of horses and mules, loaded with armour or baggage, and ornamented with gay ribbons to put them in harmony with the scene, were winding about all over the plain, some proceeding towards the town, some seeking the tents of their several lords, while mingled amongst them, appeared various bands of soldiers, on horseback and on foot, with the rays of the declining sun catching upon the heads of their bills and lances; and together with the white cassock and broad red cross, marking them out from all the other objects. Here and there, too, might be seen a party of knights and gentlemen cantering over the plain, and enjoying the bustle of the scene, or standing in separate groups, issuing their orders for the erection and garnishing of their tents; while couriers, and poursuivants, and heralds, in all their gay dresses, mingled with mule drivers, lacqueys, and peasants, armourers, pages, and tent stretchers, made up the living part of the landscape. "The sounding of the trumpets to horse, the shouts of the various leaders, the loud cries of the marshals and heralds, and the roaring of artillery from the castle, as the king put his foot in the stirrup, all combined to make one general outcry rarely equalled. Gradually the tumult subsided, gradually also the confused assemblage assumed a regular form. Flags, and pennons, and banderols, embroidered banners, and scutcheons; silver pillars, and crosses, and crooks, ranged themselves in long line; and the bright procession, an interminable stream of living gold, began to wind across the plain. First came about five hundred of the gayest and wealthiest gentlemen of England, below the rank of baron; squires, knights, and bannerets, rivalling each other in the richness of their apparel and the beauty of their horses; while the pennons of the knights fluttered above their heads, marking the place of the English chivalry. Next appeared the proud barons of the realm, each with his banner borne before him, and followed by a custrel with the shield of his arms. To these again succeeded the bishops, not in the simple robes of the Protestant clergy, but in the more gorgeous habits of the Church of Rome; while close upon their steps rode the higher nobility, surrounding the immediate person of the king, and offering the most splendid mass of gold and jewels that the summer sun ever shone upon. "Slowly the procession moved forward to allow the line of those on foot to keep an equal pace. Nor did this band offer a less gay and pleasing sight than the cavalcade, for here might be seen the athletic forms of the sturdy English yeomanry, clothed in the various splendid liveries of their several lords, with the family cognisance embroidered on the bosom and arm, and the banners and banderols of their particular houses carried in the front of each company. Here also was to be seen the picked guard of the King of England, magnificently dressed for the occasion, with the royal banner carried in their centre by the deputy standard bearer, and the banner of their company by their own ancient. In the rear of all, marshalled by officers appointed for the purpose, came the band of those whose rank did not entitle them to take place in the cavalcade, but who had sufficient interest at court to be admitted to the meeting. Though of an inferior class, this company was not the least splendid in the field; for here were all the wealthy tradesmen of the court, habited in many a rich garment, furnished by the extravagance of those that rode before; and many a gold chain hung round their necks, that not long ago had lain in the purse of some prodigal customer." But we cease, being fully of opinion with the old chronicler that "to tell the apparel of the ladies, their riche attyres, their sumptuous juelles, their diversities of beauties, and their goodly behaviour from day to day sithe the fyrst metyng, I assure you ten mennes wittes can scarce declare it." And in a few days, a few short days, all was at an end; and the pomp and the pageantry, the mirth and the revelry, was but as a dream--a most bitter, indeed, and painful dream to hundreds who had bartered away their substance for the sake of a transient glitter: "We seken fast after felicite But we go wrong ful often trewely, Thus may we sayen alle." Homely indeed, after the paraphernalia of the "Field of the Cloth of Gold," would appear the homes of England on the return of their masters. For though the nobles had begun to remove the martial fronts of their castles, and endeavoured to render them more commodious, yet in architecture the nation participated neither the spirit nor the taste of its sovereign. The mansions of the gentlemen were, we are told, still sordid; the huts of the peasantry poor and wretched. The former were generally thatched buildings composed of timber, or, where wood was scarce, of large posts inserted in the earth, filled up in the interstices with rubbish, plastered within, and covered on the outside with coarse clay. The latter were light frames, prepared in the forest at small expense, and when erected, probably covered with mud. In cities the houses were constructed mostly of the same materials, for bricks were still too costly for general use; and the stories seem to have projected forward as they rose in height, intercepting sunshine and air from the streets beneath. The apartments were stifling, lighted by lattices, so contrived as to prohibit the occasional and salutary admission of external air. The floors were of clay, strewed with rushes, which often remained for years a receptacle of every pollution.[112] In an inventory of the goods and chattels of Sir Andrew Foskewe, Knight, dated in the 30th year of King Henry the Eighth, are the following furnitures. We select the hall and the best parlour, in which he entertained company, first premising that he possessed a large and noble service of rich plate worth an amazing sum, and so much land as proved him to be a wealthy man:-- "The hall.--A hangin of greine say, bordered with darneng (or needlework); item a grete side table, with standinge tressels; item a small joyned cuberde, of waynscott, and a short piece of counterfett carpett upon it; item a square cuberde, and a large piece of counterfett wyndowe, and five formes, &c. "Perler.--Imprim., a hangynge of greene say and red, panede; item a table with two tressels, and a greyne verders carpet upon it; three greyne verders cushyns; a joyned cupberd, and a carpett upon it; a piece of verders carpet in one window, and a piece of counterfeit carpett in the other; one Flemishe chaire; four joyned stooles; a joyned forme; a wyker skryne; two large awndyerns, a fyer forke, a fyer pan, a payer of tonges; item a lowe joyned stole; two joyned foote-stoles; a rounde table of cipress; and a piece of counterfeitt carpett upon it; item a paynted table (or picture) of the Epiphany of our Lord."[113] But notwithstanding this apparent meagreness of accommodation, luxury in architecture was making rapid strides in the land. Wolsey was as magnificent in this taste as in others, as Hampton Court, "a residence," says Grotius, "befitting rather a god than a king," yet remains to attest. The walls of his chambers at York Place, (Whitehall,) were hung with cloth of gold, and tapestry still more precious, representing the most remarkable events in sacred history--for the easel was then subordinate to the loom. The subjects of the tapestry in York Place consisted, we are told, of triumphs, probably Roman; the story of Absalom, bordered with the cardinal's arms; the Petition of Esther, and the Honouring of Mordecai; the History of Sampson, bordered with the cardinal's arms; the History of Solomon; the History of Susannah and the Elders, bordered with the cardinal's arms; the History of Jacob, also bordered; Holofernes and Judith, bordered; the Story of Joseph, of David, of St. John the Baptist; the History of the Virgin; the Passion of Christ; the Worthies; the Story of Nebuchadnezzar; a Pilgrimage; all bordered. This place--Whitehall--Henry decorated magnificently; erected splendid gateways, and threw a gallery across to the Park, where he erected a tilt-yard, with all royal and courtly appurtenances, and converted the whole into a royal manor. This was not until after fire had ravaged the ancient, time-honoured, and kingly palace of Westminster, a place which perhaps was the most truly regal of any which England ever beheld. Recorded as a royal residence as early--almost--as there is record of the existence of our venerable abbey; inhabited by Knute the Dane; rebuilt by Edward the Confessor; remodelled by Henry the Third; receiving lustre from the residence, and ever-added splendour from the liberality of a long line of illustrious monarchs, it had obtained a hold on the mind which is even yet not passed away, although the ravages of time, and of fire, and the desecrations of subsequent ages, have scarcely left stone or token of the original structure. After the fire, however, Henry forsook it. He it was who first built St. James's Palace on the site of an hospital which had formerly stood there. He also possessed, amongst other royal retreats, Havering Bower, so called from the legend of St. Edward receiving a ring from St. John the Evangelist on this spot by the hands of a pilgrim from the Holy Land; which legend is represented at length in Westminster Abbey; Eltham, in Kent, where the king frequently passed his Christmas; Greenwich, where Elizabeth was born; and Woodstock, celebrated for "the unhappy fate Of Rosamond, who long ago Prov'd most unfortunate." The ancient palace of the Savoy had changed its destination as a royal residence only in his father's time. With the single exception of Westminster--if indeed that--the most magnificent palace which the hand of liberality ever raised, which the finger of taste ever embellished. Various indeed have been the changes to which it has been doomed, and now not one stone remains on another to say that such things have been. Now--of the thousands who traverse the spot, scarce one, at long and far distant intervals, may glance at the dim memories of the past, to think of the plumed knights and high-born dames who revelled in its halls; the crowned and anointed kings who, monarch or captive, trod its lofty chambers; the gleaming warriors who paced its embattled courts; the gracious queen who caused its walls to echo the sounds of joy; the subtle heads which plodded beneath its gloomy shades; the unhappy exiles who found a refuge within its dim recesses; or[114] the lame, the sick, the impotent, who in the midst of suffering blessed the home that sheltered them, the hands that ministered to their woes. No. The majestic walls of the Savoy are in the dust, and not merely all trace, but all idea of its radiant gardens and sunny bowers, its sparkling fountains and verdant lawns, is lost even to the imagination in the matter-of-fact, business-like demeanour of the myriads of plodders who are ever traversing the dusty and bustling environs of Waterloo-bridge. In our closets we may perchance compel the unromantic realities of the present to yield beneath the brilliant imaginations of the past; but on the spot itself it is impossible. Who can stand in Wellington-street, on the verge of Waterloo-bridge, and fancy it a princely mansion from the lofty battlements of which a royal banner is flying, while numerous retainers keep watch below? Probably the sounds of harp and song may be heard as lofty nobles and courtly dames are seen to tread the verdant alleys and flower-bestrewn paths which lead to the bright and glancing river, where a costly barge (from which the sounds proceed) is waiting its distinguished freight. Ever and anon are these seen gliding along in the sunbeams, or resting at the avenue leading to one or other of the noble mansions with which the bright strand is sprinkled. Of these, perhaps, the most gorgeous is York-place, while farthest in the distance rise the fortified walls of the old palace of Westminster, inferior only to those of the ancient abbey, which are seen to rise, dimmed, yet distinct, in the soft but glowing haze cast around by the setting sun. And that building seen on the opposite side of the river? Strangely situated it seems, and in a swamp, and with none of the felicity of aspect appertaining to its loftier neighbour, the Savoy. Yet its lofty tower, its embattled gateway, seem to infer some important destination. And such it had. The unassuming and unattractively placed edifice has outlived its more aspiring neighbours; and while the stately palace of the Savoy is extinct, and the slight remains of Westminster are desecrated, the time-honoured walls of Lambeth yet shelter the head of learning and dignify the location in which they were reared. Eastward of our position the city looks dim and crowded; but, with the exception of the sprinkled mansions to which we have alluded, there is little to break the natural characteristics of the scene between Temple-bar and the West Minster. The hermitage and hospital on the site of Northumberland House harmonise well with the scene; the little cluster of cottages at Charing has a rural aspect; and that beautiful and touching memento of unfailing love and undiminished affection--that tribute to all that was good and excellent in woman--the Cross, which, formed of the purest and, as yet, unsoiled white marble, raised its emblem of faith and hope, gleaming like silver in the brilliant sky--that--would that we had it still! Somewhat nearer, the May-pole stands out in gay relief from the woods which envelop the hills northward, where yet the timid fawn could shelter, and the fearful hare forget its watch; where yet perchance the fairies held their revels when the moon shone bright; where they filled to the brim the "fairy-cups" and pledged each other in dew; where they played at "hide and seek" in the harebells, ran races in the branches of the trees, and nestled on the leaves, on which they glittered like diamonds; where they launched their tiny barks on the sparkling rivulets, breathing ere morning's dawn on the flowers to awaken them, tinting the gossamer's web with silver, and scattering pearls over the drops of dew. Closer around, among meadows and pastures, are all sounds and emblems of rural life; which as yet are but agreeably varied, not ruthlessly annihilated, by the encroachments of population and the increase of trade. Truly this is a difficult picture to realise on Waterloo-bridge, yet is it nevertheless a tolerably correct one of this portion of our metropolis at the time of "The Field of the Cloth of Gold." FOOTNOTES: [112] Henry. [113] Strutt's Manners and Customs. [114] It was at length converted into an hospital. CHAPTER XVI. THE NEEDLE. "A grave Reformer of old Rents decay'd." J. Taylor. "His garment-- With thornes together pind and patched was." Faerie Queene. _Hodge._ "Tush, tush, her neele, her neele, her neele, man; neither flesh nor fish, A lytle thing with an hole in the ende, as bright as any syller, Small, long, sharp at the point, and straight as any piller." _Diccon._ "I know not what it is thou menest, thou bringst me more in doubt." _Hodge._ "Knowest not what Tom tailor's man sits broching thro' a clout? A neele, a neele, a neele, my gammer's neele is gone." Gammer Gurton's Needle. It is said in the old chronicles that previous to the arrival of Anne of Bohemia, Queen of Richard the Second, the English ladies fastened their robes with skewers; but as it is known that pins were in use among the early British, since in the barrows that have been opened numbers of "neat and efficient" ivory pins were found to have been used in arranging the grave-clothes, it is probable that this remark is unfounded. The pins of a later date than the above were made of boxwood, bone, ivory, and some few of silver. They were larger than those of the present day, which seem to have been unknown in England till about the middle of the fifteenth century. In 1543, however, the manufacture of brass pins had become sufficiently important to claim the attention of the legislature, an Act having been passed that year by which it was enacted, "That no person shall put to sale any pins, but only such as shall be double headed and have the head soldered fast to the shank, the pins well smoothed, and the shank well sharpened." Gloucestershire is noted for the number of its pin manufactories. They were first introduced in that county, in 1626, by John Tilsby; and it is said that at this time they employ 1,500 hands, and send up to the metropolis upwards of £20,000 of pins annually. Our motto says, however, that his garment "With thornes together pind and _patched_ was;" and a French writer says, that before the invention of steel needles people were obliged to make use of thorns, fish bones, &c., but that since "l'établissement des sociétés, ce petit outil est devenu d'un usage indispensable dans une infinité d'arts et d'occasions." He proceeds:--"De toutes les manières d'attacher l'un à l'autre deux corps flexibles, celle qui se pratique avec l'aiguille est une des plus universellement répandues: aussi distingue-t-on un grand nombre d'aiguilles différentes. On a les aiguilles à coudre, ou de tailleur; les aiguilles de chirurgie, d'artillerie, de bonnetier, ou faiseur de bas au métier, d'horloger, de cirier, de drapier, de gainier, de perruquier, de coiffeuse, de faiseur de coiffe à perruques, de piqueur d'étuis, tabatières, et autres semblables ouvrages; de sellier, d'ouvrier en soie, de brodeur, de tapissier, de chandelier, d'emballeur; à matelas, à empointer, à tricoter, à enfiler, à presser, à brocher, à relier, à natter, à boussole ou aimantée, &c. &c." Needles are said to have been first made in England by a native of India, in 1545, but the art was lost at his death; it was, however, recovered by Christopher Greening, in 1560, who was settled with his three children, Elizabeth, John, and Thomas, by Mr. Damar, ancestor of the present Lord Milton, at Long Crendon, in Bucks, where the manufactory has been carried on from that time to the present period.[115] Thus our readers will remark, that until far on in the sixteenth century, there was not a needle to be had but of foreign manufacture; and bearing this circumstance in mind, they will be able to enter more fully into the feelings of those who set such inestimable value on a needle. And, indeed, _if_ all we are told of them be true, needles could not be too highly esteemed. For instance, we were told of an old woman who had used one needle so long and so constantly for mending stockings, that at last the needle was able to do them of itself. At length, and while the needle was in the full perfection of its powers, the old woman died. A neighbour, whose numerous "olive branches" caused her to have a full share of matronly employment, hastened to possess herself of this domestic treasure, and gathered round her the weekly accumulation of sewing, not doubting but that with her new ally, the wonder-working needle, the unwieldy work-basket would be cleared, "in no time," of its overflowing contents. But even the all-powerful needle was of no avail without thread, and she forthwith proceeded to invest it with a long one. But thread it she could not; it resisted her most strenuous endeavours. In vain she turned and re-turned the needle, the eye was plain enough to be seen; in vain she cut and screwed the thread, she burnt it in the candle, she nipped it with the scissars, she rolled it with her lips, she twizled it between her finger and thumb: the pointed end was fine as fine could be, but enter the eye of the needle it would not. At length, determined not to relinquish her project whilst any hope remained of its accomplishment, she borrowed a magnifying glass to examine the "little weapon" more accurately. And there, "large as life and twice as natural," a pearly gem, a translucent drop, a crystal _tear_ stood right in the gap, and filled to overflowing the eye of the needle. It was weeping for the death of its old mistress; it refused consolation; it was never threaded again. We give this incident on the testimony of a gallant naval officer; an unquestionable authority, though we are fully aware that some of our readers may be ungenerously sceptical, and perhaps even rude enough to attempt some vile pun about the brave sailor's "drawing a long yarn." If, however, Gammer Gurton's needle resembled the one we have just referred to, and that, too, at a time when a needle, even not supernaturally endowed, was not to be had of English manufacture, and therefore could only be purchased probably at a high price, we cannot wonder at the aggrieved feelings of her domestic circle when the catastrophe occurred which is depicted as follows:--The parties interested were the Dame Gammer Gurton herself; Hodge, her farming man; Tib, her maid; Cocke, her boy; and Gib, her cat. The play from which our quotation is taken is not without some pretensions to wit, though of the coarsest kind: it is supposed to have been first performed at Christ's College, Cambridge, in 1566; and Warton observes on it, that while Latimer's sermons were in vogue at court, Gammer Gurton's needle might well be tolerated at the university. Act I. Scene 3. Hodge and Tib. _Hodge._ "I am agast, by the masse, I wot not what to do; I had need blesse me well before I go them to: Perchance, some felon spirit may haunt our house indeed, And then I were but a noddy to venter where's no need." _Tib._ "I'm worse than mad, by the masse, to be at this stay. I'm chid, I'm blam'd, and beaten all th' hours on the day. Lamed and hunger starved, pricked up all in jagges, Having no patch to hide my backe, save a few rotten ragges." _Hodge._ "I say, Tib, if thou be Tib, as I trow sure thou be, What devil make ado is this between our dame and thee?" _Tib._ "Truly, Hodge, thou had a good turn thou wart not here this while; It had been better for some of us to have been hence a mile: My Gammer is so out of course, and frantike all at once, That Cocke, our boy, and I poor wench, have felt it on our bones." _Hodge._ "What is the matter, say on, Tib, whereat she taketh so on?" _Tib._ "She is undone, she saith (alas) her life and joy is gone: If she hear not of some comfort, she is she saith but dead, Shall never come within her lips, on inch of meat ne bread. And heavy, heavy is her grief, as, Hodge, we all shall feel." _Hodge._ "My conscience, Tib, my Gammer has never lost her neele?" _Tib._ "Her neele." _Hodge._ "Her neele?" _Tib._ "Her neele, by him that made me!" _Hodge._ "How a murrain came this chaunce (say Tib) unto her dame?" _Tib._ "My Gammer sat her down on the pes, and bade me reach thy breches, And by and by, a vengeance on it, or she had take two stitches To clout upon the knee, by chaunce aside she lears, And Gib our cat, in the milk pan, she spied over head and ears. Ah! out, out, theefe, she cried aloud, and swapt the breeches down, Up went her staffe, and out leapt Gib at doors into the town: And since that time was never wight cold set their eyes upon it. God's malison she have Cocke and I bid twentie times light on it." _Hodge._ "And is not then my breches sewed up, to-morrow that I shuld wear?" _Tib._ "No, in faith, Hodge, thy breches lie, for all this never the near." _Hodge._ "Now a vengeance light on al the sort, that better shold have kept it; The cat, the house, and Tib our maid, that better should have swept it. Se, where she cometh crawling! Come on, come on thy lagging way; Ye have made a fair daies worke, have you not? pray you, say." * * * * * Act I. Scene 4. Gammer, Hodge, Tib, Cocke. _Gammer._ "Alas, alas, I may well curse and ban This day, that ever I saw it, with Gib and the milke pan. For these, and ill lucke together, as knoweth Cocke my boy, Have stacke away my dear neele, and rob'd me of my joy, My fair long straight neele, that was mine only treasure, The first day of my sorrow is, and last of my pleasure." _Hodge._ "Might ha kept it when ye had it; but fools will be fools still: Lose that is fast in your hands? ye need not, but ye will." _Gammer._ "Go hie the, Tib, and run along, to th' end here of the town. Didst carry out dust in thy lap? seek where thou porest it down; And as thou sawest me roking in the ashes where I morned, So see in all the heap of dust thou leave no straw unturned." _Hodge._ "Your neele lost? it is pitie you shold lacke care and endles sorrow. Tell me, how shall my breches be sewid? shall I go thus to-morrow?" _Gammer._ "Ah, Hodge, Hodge, if that I could find my neele, by the reed, I'd sew thy breches, I promise the, with full good double threed, And set a patch on either knee, shall last this months twain, Now God, and Saint Sithe, I pray, to send it back again." _Hodge._ "Whereto served your hands and eyes, but your neele keep? What devil had you els to do? ye keep, I wot, no sheep. I'm fain abrode to dig and delve, in water, mire and clay, Sossing and possing in the dirt, still from day to day A hundred things that be abroad, I'm set to see them weel; And four of you sit idle at home, and cannot keep a neele." _Gammer._ "My neele, alas, I lost, Hodge, what time I me up hasted, To save milk set up for thee, which Gib our cat hath wasted." _Hodge._ "The devil he take both Gib and Tib, with all the rest; I'm always sure of the worst end, whoever have the best. Where ha you ben fidging abroad, since you your neele lost?" _Gammer._ "Within the house, and at the door, sitting by this same post; Where I was looking a long hour, before these folke came here; But, wel away! all was in vain, my neele is never the near!" "Gammer Gurton's Needle," says Hazlitt, "is a regular comedy, in five acts, built on the circumstance of an old woman having lost her needle which throws the whole village into confusion, till it is at last providentially found sticking in an unlucky part of Hodge's dress. This must evidently have happened at a time when the manufactures of Sheffield and Birmingham had not reached the height of perfection which they have at present done. Suppose that there is only one sewing needle in a village, that the owner, a diligent notable old dame, loses it, that a mischief-making wag sets it about that another old woman has stolen this valuable instrument of household industry, that strict search is made every where in-doors for it in vain, and that then the incensed parties sally forth to scold it out in the open air, till words end in blows, and the affair is referred over to the higher authorities, and we shall have an exact idea (though, perhaps, not so lively a one) of what passes in this authentic document between Gammer Gurton and her gossip Dame Chat; Dickon the Bedlam (the causer of these harms); Hodge, Gammer Gurton's servant; Tyb, her maid; Cocke, her 'prentice boy; Doll Scapethrift; Master Baillie, his master; Dr. Rat, the curate; and Gib, the cat, who may fairly be reckoned one of the _dramatis personæ_, and performs no mean part." From the needle itself the transition is easy to the needlework which was in vogue at the time when this little implement was so valuable and rare a commodity. We are told that the various kinds of needlework practised at this time would, if enumerated, astonish even the most industrious of our modern ladies. The lover of Shakspeare will remember that the term _point device_ is often used by him, and that, indeed, it is a term frequently met with in the writers of that age with various applications; and it is originally derived, according to Mr. Douce, from the fine stitchery of the ladies. It has been properly stated, that _point device_ signifies _exact_, _nicely_, _finical_; but nothing has been offered concerning the etymology, except that we got the expression from the French. It has, in fact, been supplied from the labours of the needle. _Poinct_, in the French language, denotes a _stitch_; _devise_ any thing _invented_, disposed, or _arranged_. _Point devise_ was, therefore, a particular sort of patterned lace worked with the needle; and the term _point lace_ is still familiar to every female. They had likewise their _point-coupé_, _point-compté_, _dentelle au point devant l'aiguille_, &c. &c. But it is apparent, he adds, that the expression _point devise_ became applicable, in a _secondary_ sense, to whatever was uncommonly exact, or constructed with the nicety and precision of stitches made or devised with the needle. Various books of patterns of needlework for the assistance and encouragement of the fair stitchers were published in those days. Mr. Douce[116] enumerates some of them, and the omission of any part of his notation would be unpardonable in the present work. The earliest on the list is an Italian book, under the title of "Esemplario di lavori: dove le tenere fanciulle et altre donne nobile potranno facilmente imparare il modo et ordine di lavorare, cusire, raccamare, et finalmente far tutte quelle gentillezze et lodevili opere, le quali pò fare una donna virtuosa con laco in mano, con li suoi compasse et misure. Vinegia, per Nicolo D'Aristotile detto Zoppino, MDXXIX. 8vo." The next that occurs was likewise set forth by an Italian, and entitled, "Les singuliers et nouveaux pourtraicts du Seigneur Federic de Vinciolo Venitien, pour toutes sortes d'ouvrages de lingerie. Paris, 1588. 4to." It is dedicated to the Queen of France, and had been already twice published. In 1599 a second part came out, which is much more difficult to be met with than the former, and sometimes contains a neat portrait, by Gaultier, of Catherine de Bourbon, the sister of Henry the Fourth. The next is "Nouveaux pourtraicts de point coupé et dantelles en petite moyenne et grande forme, nouvellement inventez et mis en lumière. Imprimé à Montbeliard, 1598. 4to." It has an address to the ladies, and a poem exhorting young damsels to be industrious; but the author's name does not appear. Vincentio's work was published in England, and printed by John Wolfe, under the title of "New and Singular Patternes and Workes of Linnen, serving for paternes to make all sortes of lace, edginges, and cutworkes. Newly invented for the profite and contentment of ladies, gentilwomen, and others that are desireous of this Art. 1591. 4to." He seems also to have printed it with a French title. We have then another English book, of which this is the title: "Here foloweth certaine Patternes of Cutworkes; newly invented and never published before. Also, sundry sortes of spots, as flowers, birdes, and fishes, &c., and will fitly serve to be wrought, some with gould, some with silke, and some with crewell in coullers; or otherwise at your pleasure. And never but once published before. Printed by Rich. Shorleyker." No date. In oblong quarto. And lastly, another oblong quarto, entitled, "The Needle's Excellency, a new booke, wherein are divers admirable workes wrought with the needle. Newly invented and cut in copper for the pleasure and profit of the industrious." Printed for James Boler, &c., 1640. Beneath this title is a neat engraving of three ladies in a flower garden, under the names of Wisdom, Industrie, and Follie. Prefixed to the patterns are sundry poems in commendation of the needle, and describing the characters of ladies who have been eminent for their skill in needlework, among whom are Queen Elizabeth and the Countess of Pembroke. The poems were composed by John Taylor the water poet. It appears that the work had gone through twelve impressions, and yet a copy is now scarcely to be met with. This may be accounted for by supposing that such books were generally cut to pieces, and used by women to work upon or transfer to their samplers. From the dress of a lady and gentleman on one of the patterns in the last mentioned book, it appears to have been originally published in the reign of James the First. All the others are embellished with a multitude of patterns elegantly cut in wood, several of which are eminently conspicuous for their taste and beauty. We are happy to add a little further information on some of these works, and on others preserved in the British Museum. "Les singuliers et nouveaux Pourtraicts du Seigneur Federic de Vinciolo Venitien, pour toutes sortes d'ouvrages de Lingerie. Dédié à la Reyne. A Paris, 1578."[117] The book opens with a sonnet to the fair, which announces to them an admirable motive for the work itself:-- "Pour tromper vos ennuis, et l'esprit employer." Aux Dames et Damoyselles. SONNET. "L'un s'efforce à gaigner le coeur des {grands} Seigneurs Pour posseder en fin une exquise richesse; L'autre aspire aux estats, pour monter en altesse, Et l'autre, par la guerre alléche les honneurs. "Quand à moy, seulement pour chasser mes langueurs, Je me sen satisfaict de vivre en petitesse, Et de faire si bien, qu'aux Dames ie delaisse Un grand contentement en mes graves labeurs. "Prenez doncques en gré (mes Dames) ie vous prie, Ces pourtrais ouvragez lesquels ie vous dedie, Pour tromper vos ennuis, et l'esprit employer. "En ceste nouveauté, pourrez beaucoup apprendre, Et maistresses en fin en cest oeuvre vous rendre, Le travail est plaisant: Si grand est le loyer." Which, barring elegant diction and poetic rule, may be read thus:-- Whilst one man worships lordly state As yielding all that he desires-- This, fertile acres begs from fate; Another, bloody laurels fires. To dissipate my devils blue, Trifles, I'm satisfied to do; For surely if the fair I please, My very labours smack of ease. Take then, fair ladies, I you pray, The book which at your feet I lay, To make you happy, brisk and gay. There's much you here may learn anew, Which _comme il faut_ will render you, And bring you joy and honour too. Proceed we to the-- "Ouvrages de point Coupé," of which there are thirty-six. Some birds, animals, and figures are introduced; but the patterns are chiefly arabesque, set off in white, on a thick black ground. Then, with a repetition of the ornamented title-page, come about fifty patterns, which are represented much like the German patterns of the present day, in squares for stitches, but not so finely wrought as some which we shall presently notice. These patterns consist of arabesques, figures, birds, beasts, flowers, in every variety. To many the stitches are ready counted (as well as pourtrayed), thus:-- "Ce Pélican contient en longueur 70 mailles, et en hauteur 65." This pattern of maternity is represented as pecking her breast, towards which three young ones are flying; their course being indicated by the three lines of white stitches, all converging to the living nest. "Ce Griffon {contient} en hauteur 58 mailles, et en {longueur} 67." Small must be the skill of the needlewoman who does not make this a very rampant animal indeed. "Ce Paon contient en longueur 65 mailles, et en hauteur 61." "La Licorne en hauteur {contient} 44 mailles, et en longueur 62, &c. &c." "La bordure contient 25 mailles." "La bordure de haut {contient} 35 mailles." This is a very handsome one, resembling pine apples. "Ce quarré contient 65 mailles." There are several of these squares, and borders appended, of very rich patterns. But the book contains far more ambitious designs. There are Sol, Luna, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, Saturn, Neptune, and others, whose dignities and vocation must be inferred from the emblematical accompaniments. There is "La Déesse des fleurs représentant le printemps." "La Déesse des Bleds representant l'esté." "Ce Bacchus representant l'Autonne." "Ceste figure representant l'hiver," &c. &c. Appended is this "Extraict du Privilege." "Per grace et privelege du Roy, est permis a Jean le Clerc le jeune, tailleur d'histoires à Paris, d'imprimer ou faire imprimer {vendre} et distribuer un livre intitulé livre de patrons de Lingerie, DEDIE A LA ROYNE, nouvellement inventé par le Seigneur Federic de Vinciolo Venitien, avec deffences à tous Libraires, Imprimeurs, ou autres, de quelque condition et qualité quilz soyent, de faire ny contrefaire, aptisser ny {agrandir}, ou pocher lesdits figures, ny exposer en vente ledict Livre sans le {congé} ou permission dudict le Clerc, et ce jusques au temps et terme de neuf ans finis et accomplis, sur peine de confiscation de tous les livres qui se trouveront imprimez, et damande arbitraire: comme plus a plein est declaré en lettres patentes, données à Paris ce douziesme jour de Novembre, 1587." Another work, preserved in the British Museum, was published at Strasbourg, 1596, seemingly from designs of the same Vinciolo. These consist of about six-and-thirty plates, with patterns in white on a black ground, consisting of a few birds and figures, but chiefly of stars and wreaths pricked out in every possible variety; and at the end of the book a dozen richly wrought patterns, without any edging, were seemingly designed for what we should now call "insertion" work or lace. There is another, by the same author, printed at Basil in 1599, which varies but slightly from the foregoing. This Frederick de Vinciolo is doubtless the same person who was summoned to France, by Catherine de Medicis, to instruct the ladies of the court in the art of netting the lace of which the then fashionable ruffs were made. In another volume we have-- "Corona delle Nobili et virtuose Donne, nel quale si dimostra in varij Dissegni tutte le sorti di Mostre di punti tagliati, punti in Aria, punti Fiamenghi, punti à Reticelle, e d'ogni altre sorte, cosi per Freggi, per Merli, e Rosette, che con l'Aco si usano hoggidì per tutta l'Europa. "E molte delle quali Mostre possono servire ancora per opere a Mazzette. "Con le dichiarationi a le Mostre a Lavori fatti da Lugretia Romana. "In Venetia appresso Alessandro di Vecchi, 1620." The plates here are very similar to those in the above-mentioned works. Some are accompanied by short explanations, saying where they are most used and to whom they are best suited, as-- "Hopera Bellissima, che per il più le Signore Duchese, et altre Signore si servono per li suoi lavori." "Queste bellissime Rosette usano anco le gentildonne Venetiane da far traverse." But certainly the best work of the kind is, "The Needle's Excellency," referred to in Mr. Douce's list. It contains a variety of plates, of which the patterns are all, or nearly all, arabesque. They are beautifully executed, many of them being very similar to, and equally fine with, the German patterns before the colouring is put on, which, though it guides the eye, defaces the work. These are seldom seen uncoloured, the Germans having a jealousy of sending them; but we have seen, through the polite attention of Mr. Wilks, of Regent Street, one or two in this state, and we could not but admire the extreme delicacy and beauty of the work. Some few of the patterns in the book we are now referring to are so extremely similar, that we doubt not the modern artists have borrowed the _idea_ of their beautifully traced patterns from this or some similar work; thereby adding one more proof of the truth of the oft quoted proverb, "There is nothing new under the sun." As a fitting close to this chapter, we give the Needle's praises in full, as sung by the water poet, John Taylor, and prefixed to the last-mentioned work. THE PRAISE OF THE NEEDLE. "To all dispersed sorts of arts and trades, I write the needles prayse (that never fades) So long as children shall be got or borne, So long as garments shall be made or worne, So long as hemp or flax, or sheep shall bear Their linnen wollen fleeces yeare by yeare: So long as silkwormes, with exhausted spoile, Of their own entrailes for man's gaine shall toyle: Yea till the world be quite dissolv'd and past, So long at least, the needles use shall last: And though from earth his being did begin, Yet through the fire he did his honour win: And unto those that doe his service lacke, He's true as steele and mettle to the backe He hath indeed, I see, small single sight, Yet like a pigmy, _Polipheme_ in fight: As a stout captaine, bravely he leades on, (Not fearing colours) till the worke be done, Through thicke and thinne he is most sharpely set, With speed through stitch, he will the conquest get. And as a souldier (Frenchefyde with heat) Maim'd from the warres is forc'd to make retreat; So when a needles point is broke, and gone, _No point Mounsieur_, he's maim'd, his worke is done, And more the needles honour to advance, It is a tailor's javelin, or his lance; And for my countries quiet, I should like, That women kinde should use no other pike. It will increase their peace, enlarge their store, To use their tongues lesse, and their needles more. The needles sharpnesse, profit yields, and pleasure, But sharpnesse of the tongue, bites out of measure. A needle (though it be but small and slender) Yet it is both a maker and a mender: A grave Reformer of old rents decay'd, Stops holes and seames and desperate cuts display'd, And thus without the needle we may see We should without our bibs and biggins bee; No shirts or smockes, our nakednesse to hide, No garments gay, to make us magnifide: No shadowes, shapparoones, caules, bands, ruffs, kuffs, No kerchiefes, quoyfes, chinclouts, or marry-muffes, No croscloaths, aprons, handkerchiefes, or falls, No table-cloathes, for parlours or for halls, No sheetes, no towels, napkins, pillow beares, Nor any garment man or woman weares. Thus is a needle prov'd an instrument Of profit, pleasure, and of ornament. Which mighty queenes have grac'd in hand to take, And high borne ladies such esteeme did make, That as their daughters daughters up did grow, The needles art, they to the children show. And as 'twas then an exercise of praise, So what deserves more honour in these dayes, Than this? which daily doth itselfe expresse A mortall enemy to idlenesse. The use of sewing is exceeding old, As in the sacred text it is enrold: Our parents first in Paradise began, Who hath descended since from man to man: The mothers taught their daughters, sires their sons Thus in a line successively it runs For generall profit, and for recreation, From generation unto generation. With work like cherubims embroidered rare, The covers of the tabernacle were. And by the Almighti's great command, we see, That Aaron's garments broidered worke should be; And further, God did bid his vestments should Be made most gay, and glorious to behold. Thus plainly and most truly is declar'd The needles worke hath still bin in regard, For it doth art, so like to nature frame, As if it were her sister, or the same. Flowers, plants and fishes, beasts, birds, flyes, and bees, Hills, dales, plaines, pastures, skies, seas, rivers, trees; There's nothing neere at hand, or farthest sought, But with the needle may be shap'd and wrought. In clothes of arras I have often seene, Men's figur'd counterfeits so like have beene, That if the parties selfe had been in place, Yet art would vie with nature for the grace; Moreover, posies rare, and anagrams, Signifique searching sentences from names, True history, or various pleasant fiction, In sundry colours mixt, with arts commixion, All in dimension, ovals, squares, and rounds, Arts life included within natures bounds: So that art seemeth merely naturall, In forming shapes so geometricall; And though our country everywhere is fild With ladies, and with gentlewomen, skild In this rare art, yet here they may discerne Some things to teach them if they list to learne. And as this booke some cunning workes doth teach, (Too hard for meane capacities to reach) So for weake learners, other workes here be, As plaine and easie as are A B C. Thus skilful, or unskilful, each may take This booke, and of it each good use may make, All sortes of workes, almost that can be nam'd, Here are directions how they may be fram'd: And for this kingdomes good are hither come, From the remotest parts of Christendome, Collected with much paines and industrie, From scorching _Spaine_ and freezing _Muscovie_, From fertill _France_, and pleasant _Italy_, From _Poland_, _Sweden_, _Denmark_, _Germany_, And some of these rare patternes have beene fet Beyond the bounds of faithlesse _Mahomet_: From spacious _China_, and those kingdomes East, And from great _Mexico_, the Indies West. Thus are these workes, _farrefetcht_ and _dearely bought_, And consequently _good for ladies thought_. Nor doe I derogate (in any case) Or doe esteeme of other teachings base, For _tent worke_, _rais'd worke_, _laid worke_, _frost works_, _net worke_, Most curious _purles_, or rare _Italian cut worke_, Fine, _ferne stitch_, _finny stitch_, _new stitch_, and _chain stitch_, Brave _bred stitch_, _Fisher stitch_, _Irish stitch_, and _Queen stitch_, The _Spanish stitch_, _Rosemary stitch_, and _Mowse stitch_ The smarting _whip stitch_, _back stitch_, and the _crosse stitch_ All these are good, and these we must allow, And these are everywhere in practise now: And in this booke there are of these some store, With many others, never seene before. Here practise and invention may be free. And as a squirrel skips from tree to tree, So maids may (from their mistresse or their mother) Learne to leave one worke, and to learne another, For here they may make choice of which is which, And skip from worke to worke, from stitch to stitch, Until, in time, delightful practise shall (With profit) make them perfect in them all. Thus hoping that these workes may have this guide, To serve for ornament, and not for pride: To cherish vertue, banish idlenesse, For these ends, may this booke have good successe." FOOTNOTES: [115] It is worth while to remark the circumstance, that by a machine of the simplest construction, being nothing in fact but a tray, 20,000 needles thrown promiscuously together, mixed and entangled in every way, are laid parallel, heads to heads, and points to points, in the course of three or four minutes. [116] Illustrations, vol. ii. p. 92. [117] This seems to be a somewhat earlier edition of the second book in Mr. Douce's list. CHAPTER XVII. TAPESTRY FROM THE CARTOONS. "For, round about, the walls yclothed were With goodly Arras of great majesty, Woven with gold and silk so close and nere, That the rich metal lurked privily, As faining to be hidd from envious eye; Yet here, and there, and every where unwares It shew'd itselfe and shone unwillingly; Like to a discolour'd Snake, whose hidden snares Through the greene gras his long bright burnisht back declares." Faerie Queene. Raphael, whose name is familiar to all "as a household word," seems to have been equally celebrated for a handsome person, an engaging address, an amiable disposition, and high talents. Language exhausts itself in his eulogy.[118] But the extravagant encomiums of Lanzi and others must be taken in a very modified sense, ere we arrive at the rigid truth. The tone of morals in Italy "did not correspond with evangelical purity;" and Raphael's follies were not merely permitted, but encouraged and fostered by those who sought eagerly for the creations of his pencil. His thousand engaging qualities were disfigured by a licentiousness which probably shortened his career, for he died at the early age of thirty-seven. Great and sincere was the grief expressed at Rome for his untimely death, and no testimony of sorrow could be more affecting, more simple, or more highly honourable to its object than the placing his picture of the Transfiguration over his mortal remains in the chamber wherein he died. It was probably within two years of the close of his short life when he was engaged by Pope Leo the Tenth to paint those cartoons which have more than all his works immortalised his name, and which render the brief hints we have given respecting him peculiarly appropriate to this work. The cartoons were designs, from Scripture chiefly, from which were to be woven hangings to ornament the apartments of the Vatican; and their dimensions being of course proportioned to the spaces they were designed to fill, the tapestries, though equal in height, differed extremely in breadth. The designs were, 1. The Nativity. 2. The Adoration of the Magi. 3. } } 4. } The Slaughter of the Innocents. } 5. } 6. The Presentation in the Temple. 7. The Miraculous Draught of Fishes. 8. St. Peter receiving the Keys. 9. The Descent of Christ into Limbus. 10. The Resurrection. 11. Noli me tangere. 12. Christ at Emmaus. 13. The Ascension. 14. The Descent of the Holy Ghost. 15. The Martyrdom of St. Stephen. 16. The Conversion of St. Paul. 17. Paul and Barnabas at Lystra. 18. Paul Preaching. 19. Death of Ananias. 20. Elymas the Sorcerer. 21. An earthquake; showing the delivery of Paul and Silas from prison: named from the earthquake which shook the foundations of the building. The artist endeavours to render it ideally visible to the spectator by placing a gigantic figure, which appears to be raising the superincumbent weight on his shoulders; but the result is not altogether successful. 22. St. Peter healing the cripple. 23-24. Contain emblems alluding to Leo the Tenth. These are preserved in one of the private apartments of the Vatican palace. 25. Justice. In this subject the figures of Religion, Charity, and Justice are seen above the papal armorial bearings. The last figure gives name to the whole. When the cartoons were finished they were sent into Flanders to be woven (at the famous manufactory at Arras) under the superintendence of Barnard Van Orlay of Brussels, and Michael Coxis, artists who had been for some years pupils of Raphael at Rome. Two sets were executed with the utmost care and cost, but the death of Raphael, the murder of the Pope, and subsequent intestine troubles seem to have delayed their appropriation. They cost seventy thousand crowns, a sum which is said to have been defrayed by Francis the First of France, in consideration of Leo's having canonised St. Francis of Paola, the founder of the Minims. Adrian the Second was a man "alienissimo da ogni bell'arte;" an indifference which may account for the cartoons not being sent with the tapestries to Rome, though some accounts say that the debt for their manufacture remained unliquidated, and that the paintings were kept in Flanders as security for it. They were carried away by the Spanish army in 1526-7 during the sack of Rome, but were restored by the zeal and spirit of Montmorenci the French general, as set forth in the woven borders of the tapestries Nos. 6 and 9. Pope Paul the Fourth (1555) first introduced them to the gaze of the public by exhibiting them before the Basilica of St. Peter on the festival of Corpus Domini, and also at the solemn "function of Beatification." This use of them was continued through part of the last century, and is now resumed. In 1798 they were taken by the French from Rome and sold to a Jew at Leghorn, and one of them was burnt by him in order to extract the gold with which they were richly interwoven; but happily they did not furnish so much spoil as the speculator hoped, and this devastation was arrested. The one that was destroyed represented Christ's Descent into Limbus; the rest were repurchased for one thousand three hundred crowns, and restored to the Vatican in 1814. We have alluded to two sets of these tapestries, and it is believed that there were two; whether _exactly_ counterparts has not been ascertained. We have traced the migrations of one set. The other was, according to some authorities, presented by Pope Leo the Tenth to our Henry the Eighth; whilst others say that our king purchased it from the state of Venice. It was hung in the Banqueting House of Whitehall, and after the unhappy execution of Charles the First, was put up, amongst other royal properties, to sale. Being purchased by the Spanish ambassador, it became the property of the house of Alva, and within a few years back was sold by the head of that illustrious house to Mr. Tupper, our consul in Spain, and by him sent back to this country. These tapestries were then exhibited for some time in the Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly, and were afterwards repurchased by a foreigner. Probably they have been making a "progress" throughout the kingdom, as within this twelvemonth we had the satisfaction of viewing them at the principal town in a northern county. The motto of our chapter might have been written expressly for these tapestries, so exquisitely accurate is the description as applied to them of the gold thread:-- "As here and there, and every where unwares It shew'd itselfe and shone unwillingly; Like to a discolour'd snake, whose hidden snares Through the greene gras his long bright burnisht back declares." The cartoons themselves, the beautiful originals of these magnificent works, remained in the Netherlands, and were all, save seven, lost and destroyed through the ravages of time, and chance, and revolution. These seven, much injured by neglect, and almost pounced into holes by the weaver tracing his outlines, were purchased by King Charles the First, and are now justly considered a most valuable possession. It is supposed that the chief object of Charles in the purchase was to supply the then existing tapestry manufactory at Mortlake with superior designs for imitation. Five of them were _certainly_ woven there, and it is far from improbable that the remaining ones were also.[119] There was also a project for weaving them by a person of the name of James Christopher Le Blon, and houses were built and looms erected at Chelsea expressly for that purpose, but the design failed. The "British Critic," for January, this year, has the following spirited remarks with regard to the present situation of the cartoons. "The cartoons of Raffaelle are very unfairly seen in their present locale; a long gallery built for the purpose by William the Third, but in which the light enters through common chamber windows, and therefore is so much below the cartoons as to leave the greater part of them in shade. We venture to say there is no country in Europe in which such works as these--unique, and in their class invaluable--would be treated with so little honour. It has been decided by competent opinions, that their removal to London would be attended with great risk to their preservation, from the soot, damp, accumulation of dust, and other inconveniences, natural or incident to a crowded city. This, however, is no fair reason for their being shut up in their present ill-assorted apartment. There is not a petty state in Germany that would not erect a gallery on purpose for them; and a few thousand pounds would be well bestowed in providing a fitting receptacle for some of the finest productions of human genius in art; and of the full value of which we _alone_, their possessors, seem to be comparatively insensible. Various portions of cartoons by Raffaelle, part of the same series or set, exist in England; and it is far from unlikely that, were there a proper place to preserve and exhibit the whole in, these would in time, by presentation or purchase, become the property of the country, and we should then possess a monument of the greatest master of his art, only inferior to that which he has left on the walls of the Vatican." Of all these varied and beautiful paintings, that of the Adoration of the Magi, from the variety of character and expression, the splendor and oriental pomp of the whole, the multitude of persons, between forty and fifty, the various accessaries, elephants, horses, &c., with the variety of splendid and ornamental illustrations, and the exquisite grouping, is considered as the most attractive and brilliant in tapestry. As a piece of general and varied interest it may be so; but we well remember being, not so suddenly struck, as attracted and fascinated by the figure of the Christ when, after his resurrection, he is recommending the care of his flock to St. Peter. The colours have faded gradually and equably--(an advantage not possessed by the others, where some tints which have stood the ravages of time better than those around them, are in places strikingly and painfully discordant)--but in this figure the colours, though greatly faded, have yet faded so harmoniously as to add very much to the illusion, giving to the figure really the appearance of one risen from the dead. The outline is majestic; turn which way we would, we involuntarily returned to look again. At length we mentioned our admiration to the superintendent, and the reply of the enthusiastic foreigner precluded all further remark--for nothing further could be said:-- "Madam, I should have been astonished if you had not admired that figure: _it is itself_; it is precisely _the finest thing in the world_." FOOTNOTES: [118] For example:--"Egli avea tenuto sempre un contegno da guadagnarsi il cuore di tutto. Rispettoso verso il maestro, ottenne dal Papa che le sue pitture in una volta delle camere Vaticane rimanessero intatte; giusto verso i suoi emuli ringraziava Dio d'averlo fatto nascere a' tempi del Bonarruoti; grazioso verso i discepoli gl'istruì e gli amò come figli; cortese anche verso gl'ignoti, a chiunque ricorse a lui per consiglio prestò liberalmente l'opera sua, e per far disegni ad altrui o dar gl'indirizzo lasciò indietro talvolta i lavori propri, non sapendo non pure di negar grazia, ma differirla."--Lanzi, vol. ii. Consequently when his body before interment lay in the room in which he was accustomed to paint, "Non v'ebbe sì duro artefice che a quello spettacolo non lagrimasse."--"Ne pianse il Papa." Of his works:--"Le sue figure veramente amano, languiscono, temono, sperano, ardiscono; mostrano ira, placabilità, umiltà, orgoglio, come mette bene alla storia: spesso chi mira que' volti, que' guardi, quelle mosse, non si ricorda che ha innanzi una immagine; si sente accendere, prende partito, crede di trovarsi in sul fatto.--Tutto parla nel silenzio; ogni attore, _Il cor negli occhi e nella fronte ha scritto_; i piccioli movimenti degli occhi, degli narici, della bocca, delle dita corrispondono a' primi moti d'ogni passione; i gesti più animati e più vivi ne descrivono la violenza; e ciò ch'è più, essi variano in cento modi senza uscir mai del naturale, e si attemperano a cento caratteri senza uscir mai dalla proprietà. L'eroe ha movimenti da eroe, il volgar da volgare; e quel che non descriverebbe lingua nè penna, descrive in pochissimi tratti l'ingegno e l'arte di Raffaello."--p. 65. "Il paese, gli elementi, gli animali, le fabbriche, le manifatture, ogni età dell'uomo, ogni condizione, ogni affetto, tutte comprese con la divinità del suo ingegno, tutto ridusse più bello."--p. 71. I have thought this long extract pardonable as applied to one whose finest designs are now, through so many channels, rendered familiar to us. [119] In a priced catalogue of His Majesty's collection of "Limnings," edited by Vertue, is the following entry. "Item, in a slit box-wooden case, some TWO CARTOONS of Raphael Urbinus for hangings to be made by, and _the other FIVE are by the King's appointment delivered to Mr. Francis Cleen at Mortlake, to make hangings by_."--Cartonensia. CHAPTER XVIII. THE DAYS OF "GOOD QUEEN BESS." "A worthie woman judge, a woman sent for staie." "When Fame resounds with thundring trump, which rends the ratling skies, And pierceth to the hautie Heavens, and thence descending flies Through flickering ayre: and so conjoines the sea and shore togither, In admiration of thy grace, good Queene, thou'rt welcome hither." _The Receyving of the Queene's Maiestie into hir Citie of Norwich._ "We may justly wonder what has become of the industry of the English ladies; we hear no more of their rich embroiderings, and curious needlework. Is all the domestic simplicity of the former ages entirely vanished?"--Aikin. The age of Elizabeth presents a never-failing field of variety through which people of all tastes may delightedly rove, gathering flowers at will. The learned statesman, the acute politician, the subtle lawyer, will find in the measures of her Burleigh, her Walsingham, her Cecil, abundant food for approbation or for censure; the heroic sailor will glory over the achievements of her time; the adventurous traveller will explore the Eldoradic regions with Raleigh, or plough the waves with Drake and Frobisher; the soldier will recal glorious visions of Essex and Sidney, while poesy wreathes a bay round the memory of the last, which shines freshly and bright even in the age which produced a Ben Jonson, and him "who was born with a star on his forehead to last through all time"--Shakspeare. The age of Elizabeth was especially a learned age. The study of the dead languages had hitherto been confined almost exclusively to ecclesiastics and scholars by profession, but from the time of Henry the Seventh it had been gradually spreading amongst the higher classes. The great and good Sir Thomas More gave his daughters a learned education, and they did honour to it; Henry the Eighth followed his example; Lady Jane Grey made learning lovely; and Elizabeth's pedantry brought the habit into full fashion. If a queen were to talk Sanscrit, her court would endeavour to do so likewise. The example of learned studies was given by the queen herself, who translated from the Greek a play of Euripides, and parts of Isocrates, Xenophon, and Plutarch; from the Latin considerable portions of Cicero, Seneca, Sallust, Horace, &c. She wrote many Latin letters, and is said to have spoken five languages with facility. As a natural consequence the nobility and gentry, their wives and daughters, became enthusiasts in the cause of letters. The novelty which attended these studies, the eager desire to possess what had been so long studiously and jealously concealed, and the curiosity to explore and rifle the treasures of the Greek and Roman world, which mystery and imagination had swelled into the marvellous, contributed to excite an absolute passion for study and for books. The court, the ducal castle, and the baronial hall were suddenly converted into academies, and could boast of splendid tapestries. In the first of these, according to Ascham, might be seen the queen reading "more Greeke every day than some prebendarie of this church doth read _Latin_ in a whole week;" and while she was translating Isocrates or Seneca, it may be easily conceived that her maids of honour found it convenient to praise and to adopt the disposition of her time. In the second, observes Warton, "the daughter of a duchess was taught not only to distil strong waters, but to construe Greek; and in the third, every young lady who aspired to be fashionable was compelled, in imitation of the greater world, to exhibit similar marks of erudition." A contemporary writer says, that some of the ladies of the court employ themselves "in continuall reading either of the holie Scriptures, or histories of our owne or forren nations about us, and diverse in writing volumes of their owne, or translating of other mens into our English and Latine toongs. I might here (he adds) make a large discourse of such honorable and grave councellors, and noble personages, as give their dailie attendance upon the queene's majestie. I could in like sort set foorth a singular commendation of the vertuous beautie, or beautiful vertues of such ladies and gentlewomen as wait upon his person, betweene whose amiable countenances and costlinesse of attire there seemeth to be such a dailie conflict and contention, as that it is verie difficult for me to gesse whether of the twaine shall beare awaie the preheminence. This further is not to be omitted, to the singular commendation of both sorts and sexes of our courtiers here in England, that there are verie few of them which have not the use and skill of sundrie speaches, beside an excellent veine of writing before-time not regarded. Would to God the rest of their lives and conversations were correspondent to these gifts! for as our common courtiers (for the most part) are the best lerned and endued with excellent gifts, so are manie of them the worst men when they come abroad, that anie man shall either heare or read of. Trulie it is a rare thing with us now to heare of a courtier which hath but his owne language. And to saie how many gentlewomen and ladies there are, that beside sound knowledge of the Greeke and Latine toongs, are thereto no lesse skilful in the Spanish, Italian, and French, or in some one of them, it resteth not in me. Sith I am persuaded, that as the noblemen and gentlemen doo surmount in this behalfe, so these come verie little or nothing at all behind them for their parts, which industrie God continue, and accomplish that which otherwise is wanting!"[120] At this time the practice (derived from the chivalrous ages, when every baronial castle was the resort of young persons of gentle birth, of both sexes) was by no means discontinued of placing young women, of gentle birth, in the establishment of ladies of rank, where, without performing any menial offices, they might be supposed to have their own understood duties in the household, and had in return the advantage of a liberal education, and constant association with the best company. Persons of rank and fortune often retained in their service many young people of both sexes of good birth, and bestowed on them the fashionable education of the time. Indeed their houses were the best, if not then the only schools of elegant learning. The following letter, written in 1595, is from a young lady thus situated: "To my good mother Mrs. Pake, at Broumfield, deliver this. "Deare Mother, "My humble dutye remembred unto my father and you, &c. I received upon Weddensday last a letter from my father and you, whereby, I understand, it is your pleasures that I should certifie you what times I do take for my lute, and the rest of my exercises. I doe for the most part playe of my lute after supper, for then commonlie my lady heareth me; and in the morninges, after I am reddie, I play an hower; and my wrightinge and siferinge, after I have done my lute. For my drawinge I take an hower in the afternowne, and my French at night before supper. My lady hath not bene well these tooe or three dayes: she telleth me, when she is well, that she will see if Hilliard will come and teche me; if she can by any means she will, &c. &c.--As touchinge my newe corse in service, I hope I shall performe my dutye to my lady with all care and regard to please her, and to behave myselfe to everye one else as it shall become me. Mr. Harrisone was with me upone Fridaye; he heard me playe, and brought me a dusson of trebles; I had some of him when I came to London. Thus desiring pardone for my rude writinge, I leave you to the Almightie, desiringe him to increase in you all health and happines. "Your obedient daughter, "Rebecca Pake." Could any thing afford a stronger contrast to the grave and certainly severe study to which Elizabeth had habituated herself, than the vain and fantastic puerility of many of her recreations and habits,--the unintellectual brutality of the bearbaits which she admired, or the gaudy and glittering pageants in which she delighted? She built a gallery at Whitehall at immense expense, and so superficially, that it was in ruins in her successor's time; but it was raised, in order to afford a magnificent reception to the ambassadors who, in 1581, came to treat of an alliance with the Duke of Anjou. It was framed of timber, covered with painted canvas, and decorated with the utmost gaudiness. Pendants of fruit of various kinds (amongst which cucumbers and even carrots are enumerated) were hung from festoons of flowers intermixed with evergreens, and the whole was powdered with gold spangles; the ceiling was painted like a sky with stars, sunbeams, and clouds, intermixed with scutcheons of the royal arms; and glass lustres and ornaments were scattered all around. Here were enacted masques and pageants chiefly remarkable for their pedantic prolixity of composition, and the fulsome and gross flattery towards the queen with which they were throughout invested. Everything, in accordance with the rage of the day, assumed an erudite, or, more truly speaking, a pedantic cast. When the queen (says Warton) paraded through a country town, almost every pageant was a pantheon. When she paid a visit at the house of any of her nobility, at entering the hall she was saluted by the Penates, and conducted to her privy chamber by Mercury. Even the pastry cooks were expert mythologists. At dinner, select transformations of Ovid's metamorphoses were exhibited in confectionary; and the splendid iceing of an immense historic plum-cake was embossed with a delicious basso-relievo of the destruction of Troy. In the afternoon, when she condescended to walk in the garden, the lake was covered with Tritons and Nereids; the pages of the family were converted into wood-nymphs, who peeped from every bower; and the footmen gambolled over the lawns in the figure of satyrs. Scarcely we think could even the effusions of Euphues--a fashion also of this period--be more wearisome to the spirit than a repetition of these dull delights. This predilection for learning, and the time perforce given to its acquisition, must necessarily have subtracted from those hours which might otherwise have been bestowed on the lighter labours and beguiling occupations of the needle. Nor does it appear that after her accession Elizabeth did much patronise this gentle art. She was cast in a more stirring mould. In her father's court, under her sister's jealous eye, within her prison's solitary walls, her needle might be a prudent disguise, a solacing occupation, "woman's pretty excuse for thought." But after her own accession to the throne _action_ was her characteristic. Nevertheless we are not to suppose that, because needlework was not "a rage," it was frowned upon and despised. By no means. It is perhaps fortunate that Elizabeth did not especially patronise it; for so dictatorial and absolute was she, that by virtue of the "right divine" she would have made her statesmen embroider their own robes, and her warriors lay aside the sword for the distaff. But as, happily, it now only held a secondary place in her esteem, we have Raleigh's poems instead of his sampler, and Bacon's learning instead of his stitchery. But it was not in her nature to suffer any thing in which she excelled to lie quite dormant. She was an accomplished needlewoman; some exquisite proofs of her skill were then glowing in all their freshness, and her excellence in this art was sufficiently obvious to prevent the ladies of her court from entirely forsaking it. Many books, with patterns for needlework, were published about this time, and in a later one Queen Elizabeth is especially celebrated in a laudatory poem for her skill in it. That proficiency in ornamental needlework was an absolute requisite in the accomplishments of a country belle, may be inferred from the prominent place it holds in Drayton's description of the well-educated daughter of a country knight in Elizabeth's days: "The silk well couth she twist and twine, And make the fine march pine, And with the needlework: And she couth help the priest to say His mattins on a holy day, And sing a psalm in kirk. "She wore a frock of frolic green, Might well become a maiden queen, Which seemly was to see; A hood to that so neat and fine, In colour like the columbine, Ywrought full featously." The march pine or counterpanes here alluded to, taxed in these days to the fullest extent both the purse of the rich and the fingers of the fair. Elizabeth had several most expensively trimmed with ermine as well as needlework; the finest and richest embroidery was lavished on them; and it was no unusual circumstance for the counterpane for the "standing" or master's bed to be so lavishly adorned as to be worth a thousand marks. At no time was ornamental needlework more admired, or in greater request in the every-day concerns of life, than now. Almost every article of dress, male and female, was adorned with it. Even the boots, which at this time had immense tops turned down and fringed, and which were commonly made of russet cloth or leather, were worn by some exquisites of the day of very fine cloth (of which enough was used to make a shirt), and were embroidered in gold or silver, or in various-coloured silks, in the figures of birds, animals, or antiques; and the ornamental needlework alone of a pair of these boots would cost from four to ten pounds. The making of a single shirt would frequently cost 10_l._, so richly were they ornamented with "needleworke of silke, and so curiously stitched with other knackes." "Woman's triflings," too, their handkerchiefs, reticules, workbags, &c., were decorated richly. We have seen within these few days a workbag which would startle a modern fair one, for, as far as regards _size_, it has a most "industrious look," but which, despite the ravages of near three centuries, yet gives token of much original magnificence. It is made of net, lined with silk; the material, the net itself, (a sort of honeycomb pattern, like what we called a few years ago the Grecian lace,) was made by the fair workwoman in those days, and was a fashionable occupation both in France and England. This bag is wrought in broad stripes with gold thread, and between the stripes various flowers are embroidered in different coloured silks. The bag stands in a sort of card-board basket, covered in the same style; it is drawn with long cords and tassels, and is large enough perhaps, on emergency, to hold a good sized baby. It is more than probable that female skill was in request in various matters of household decoration. The Arras looms, indeed, had long superseded the painful fingers of notable dames in the construction of hangings for walls, which were universally used, intermingled and varied in the palaces and nobler mansions by "painted cloth," and cloth of gold and silver. Thus Shakspeare describes Imogen's chamber in Cymbeline: "Her bed-chamber was hanged With tapestry of silk and silver." We have remarked that Henry the Eighth's palaces were very splendid; Elizabeth's were equally so, and more consistently finished in minor conveniences, as it is particularly remarked that "easye quilted and lyned formes and stools for the lords and ladyes to sit on" had superseded the "great plank forms, that two yeomen can scant remove out of their places, and waynscot stooles so hard, that since great breeches were layd asyde men can skant indewr to sitt on." Her two presence chambers at Hampton Court shone with tapestry of gold and silver, and silk of various colours; her bed was covered with costly coverlids of silk, wrought in various patterns, by the needle; and she had many "chusions," moveable articles of furniture of various shapes, answering to our large family of tabourets and ottomans, embroidered with gold and silver thread. But it was not merely in courts and palaces that arras was used; it was now, of a coarser fabric, universally adopted in the houses of the country gentry. "The wals of our houses on the inner sides be either hanged with tapisterie, arras-work,[121] or painted cloths, wherein either diverse histories, or hearbes, beasts, knots, and such like are stained, or else they are seeled with oke of our owne, or wainescot brought hither out of the east countries." The tapestry was now suspended on frames, which, we may infer, were often at a considerable distance from the walls, since the portly Sir John Falstaff ensconced himself "behind the arras" on a memorable occasion; Polonius too met his death there; and indeed Shakspeare presses it into the service on numerous occasions. The following quotation will give an accurate idea of properties thought most valuable at this time; and it will be seen that ornamental needlework cuts a very distinguished figure therein. It is a catalogue of his wealth given by Gremio when suing for Bianca to her father, who declares that the wealthiest lover will win her, in the Taming of the Shrew. _Gremio._ "First, as you know, my house within the city Is richly furnished with plate and gold; Basons and ewers, to lave her dainty hands; My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry; In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns; In cypres chests my _arras_, counterpoints, Costly apparel, tents, and canopies, Fine linen, _Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl, Valence of Venice gold, in needlework_, Pewter and brass, and all things that belong To house or house-keeping." The age of Elizabeth was one which powerfully appeals to the imagination in various ways. The æra of warlike chivalry was past; but many of its lighter observances remained, and added to the variety of life, and perhaps tended to polish it. We are told, for instance, that as the Earl of Cumberland stood before Elizabeth she dropped her glove; and on his picking it up graciously desired him to keep it. He caused the trophy to be encircled with diamonds; and ever after, at all tilts and tourneys, bore it conspicuously placed in front of his high crowned hat. Jousting and tilting in honour of the ladies (by whom prizes were awarded) continued still to be a favourite diversion. There were annual contentions in the lists in honour of the sovereign, and twenty-five persons of the first rank established a society of arms for this purpose, of which the chivalric Sir Henry Lee was for some time president. The "romance of chivalry" was sinking to be succeeded by the heavier tomes of Gomberville, Scudery, &c., but the extension of classical knowledge, the vast strides in acquirement of various kinds, the utter change, so to speak, in the system of literature, all contributed to the downfall of the chivalric romance. Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia introduced a rage for high-flown pastoral effusions; and now too was re-born that taste for metaphorical effusion and spiritual romance, which was first exhibited in the fourth century in the Bishop of Tricca's romance of "Barlaam and Josaphat," and which now pervaded the fast-rising puritan party, and was afterwards fully developed in that unaccountably fascinating work, "The Pilgrim's Progress." Nevertheless, as yet "Courted and caress'd, High placed in hall, a welcome guest," the harper poured to lord and lady gay not indeed "his unpremeditated lay," but a poetical abridgment (the precursor of a fast succeeding race of romantic ballads) of the doughty deeds of renowned knights, so amply expatiated upon in the time-honoured folios of the "olden time." The wandering harper, if fallen somewhat from his "high estate," was still a recognised and welcome guest; his "matter being for the most part stories of old time, as the tale of Sir Topas, the reportes of Bevis of Southampton, Guy of Warwicke, Adam Bell, and Clymme of the Clough, and such other old romances or historical rhimes." Though the character of the minstrel gradually lost respectability, yet for a considerable part of Elizabeth's reign it was one so fully acknowledged, that a peculiar garb was still attached to the office. "Mongst these, some bards there were that in their sacred rage Recorded the descents and acts of everie age. Some with their nimbler joynts that strooke the warbling string; In fingering some unskild, but onelie vsed to sing Vnto the other's harpe: of which you both might find Great plentie, and of both excelling in their kind." The superstitions of various kinds, the omens, the warnings, the charms, the "potent spells" of the wizard seer, which "Could hold in dreadful thrall the labouring moon, Or draw the fix'd stars from their eminence, And still the midnight tempest,"-- the supernatural agents, the goblins, the witches, the fairies, the satyrs, the elves, the fauns, the "shapes that walk," the "Uncharnel'd spectres, seen to glide Along the lone wood's unfrequented path"-- the being and active existence of all these was considered "true as holy writ" by our ancestors of the Elizabethan age. On this subject we will transcribe a beautifully illustrative passage from Warton:-- "Every goblin of ignorance" (says he) "did not vanish at the first glimmerings of the morning of science. Reason suffered a few demons still to linger, which she chose to retain in her service under the guidance of poetry. Men believed, or were willing to believe, that spirits were yet hovering around, who brought with them _airs from heaven, or blasts from hell_; that the ghost was duly relieved from his prison of torment at the sound of the curfew, and that fairies imprinted mysterious circles on the turf by moonlight. Much of this credulity was even consecrated by the name of science and profound speculation. Prospero had not yet _broken and buried his staff_, nor _drowned his book deeper than did ever plummet sound_. It was now that the alchemist and the judicial astrologer conducted his occult operations by the potent intercourse of some preternatural being, who came obsequious to his call, and was bound to accomplish his severest services, under certain conditions, and for a limited duration of time. It was actually one of the pretended feats of these fantastic philosophers to evoke the queen of the fairies in the solitude of a gloomy grove, who, preceded by a sudden rustling of the leaves, appeared in robes of transcendant lustre. The Shakspeare of a more instructed and polished age would not have given us a magician darkening the sun at noon, the sabbath of the witches, and the cauldron of incantation." It were endless, and indeed out of place here, to attempt to specify the numberless minor superstitions to which this credulous tendency of the public mind gave birth or continuation; or the marvels of travellers,--as the Anthropophagi, the Ethiops with four eyes, the Hippopodes with their nether parts like horses, the Arimaspi with one eye in the forehead, and the Monopoli who have no head at all, but a face in their breast--which were all devoutly credited. One potent charm, however, we are constrained to particularise, since its infallibility was mainly dependent on the needlewoman's skill. It was a waistcoat which rendered its owner invulnerable: we believe that if duly prepared it would be found proof not only against "silver bullets," but also against even the "charmed bullet" of German notoriety. Thus runs the charm:-- "On Christmas daie at night, a thread must be sponne of flax, by a little virgine girle, in the name of the divell; and it must be by hir woven, and also _wrought with the needle_. In the brest or forepart thereof must be made _with needleworke_ two heads; on the head at the right side must be a hat and a long beard, and the left head must have on a crowne, and it must be so horrible that it maie resemble Belzebub; and on each side of the wastcote must be _wrought_ a crosse." The newspaper, that now mighty political engine, that "thewe and sinew" of the fourth estate of the realm, took its rise in Elizabeth's day. How would her legislators have been overwhelmed with amazement could they have beheld, in dim perspective, this child of the press, scarcely less now the offspring of the imagination than those chimeras of their own time to which we have been alluding; and would not the wrinkled brow of the modern politician be unconsciously smoothened, would not the careworn and profound diplomatist "gather up his face into a smile before he was aware," if the FIRST NEWSPAPER were suddenly placed before him? It is not indeed in existence, but was published under the title of "_The English Mercurie_," in April, 1588, on the first appearance near the shores of England of the Spanish Armada, a crisis which caused this innovation on the usual public news-letter circulated in manuscript. No. 50, dated July 23, 1588, is the first now in existence; and as the publication only began in April, it shows they must have been issued frequently. We have seen this No. 50, which is preserved in the British Museum.[122] In it are no advertisements--no fashions--no law reports--no court circular--no fashionable arrivals--no fashionable intelligence--no murders--no robberies--no reviews--no crim. cons.--no elopements--no price of stocks--no mercantile intelligence--no police reports--no "leaders,"--no literary memoranda--no poets' corner--no spring meetings--no radical demonstrations--no conservative dinners--but "The "English Mercurie, "Published by AUTHORITIE, "For the Prevention of False Reportes, "_Whitehall, July 23, 1588._" Contains three pages and a half, small quarto, of matter of fact information. Two pages respecting the Armada then seen "neare the Lizard, making for the entrance of the Channell," and appearing on the surface of the water "like floating castles." A page of news from Ostend, where "nothing was talked of but the intended invasion of England. His Highnesse the Prince of Parma having compleated his preparationes, of which the subjoined Accounte might be depended upon as _exacte and authentique_." Something to say--for a newspaper. And a few lines dated "London, July 13, of the lord mayor, aldermen, common councilmen, and lieutenancie of this great citie" waiting on Her Majesty with assurances of support, and receiving a gracious reception from her. Such was the newspaper of 1588. * * * * * The great events of Elizabeth's reign, in war, in politics, in legislation, belong to the historian; the great march of mind, the connecting link which that age formed between the darkness of the preceding ones (for during the period of the wars of the Roses all sorts of art and science retrograded), and the high cultivation of later days, it is the province of the metaphysician and philosopher to analyse; and even the lighter characteristics of the time have become so familiar through the medium of many modern and valuable works, that we have ventured only to touch very superficially on some few of the more prominent of them. FOOTNOTES: [120] Harrison. [121] From this separate mention of _tapisterie_ and _arras-work_ by so accurate a describer as Harrison, it would seem that tapestry of the needle alone was not, even yet, quite exploded. [122] Sloane MSS. No. 4106. CHAPTER XIX. TAPESTRY OF THE SPANISH ARMADA, BETTER KNOWN AS TAPESTRY OF THE HOUSE OF LORDS. "He did blow with his wind, and they were scattered." 'Inscription on the Medal.' The year 1588 had been foretold by astrologers to be a wonderful year, the "climacterical year of the world;" and the public mind of England was at that period sufficiently credulous and superstitious to be affected with vague presentiments, even if the preparation of an hostile armada so powerful as to be termed "invincible," had not seemed to engraft on these vague surmises too real and fearful a groundwork of truth. The preparations of Philip II. in Spain, combined with those of the Duke of Parma in the Low Countries, and furthered by the valued and effective benediction of the shaken and tottering, but still influential and powerful head of the Roman church, had produced a hostile array which, with but too much probability of success, threatened the conquest of England, and its subjugation to the papal yoke. Not since the Norman Conquest had any event occurred which, if successful, would be fraught with results so harassing and distressing to the established inhabitants of the island. Though the Norman Conquest had, undoubtedly, _in the course of time_, produced a beneficial and civilising and ennobling influence on the island, it was long and bitter years ere the groans of the subjugated and oppressed Anglo-Saxons had merged in the contented peacefulness of a united people. Yet William was certainly of a severe temper, and was incited by the unquenchable opposition of the English to a cruel and exterminating policy. Philip of Spain seemed not to promise milder measures. He was a bigot, and moreover hated the English with an utter hatred. During his union with Mary he had utterly failed to gain their good will, and his hatred to them increased in an exact ratio to the failure of his desired influence with them. Neither time, nor trouble, nor care, nor expense, was spared in this his decided invasion; and it is said that from Italy, Sicily, and even America, were drafted the most experienced captains and soldiers to aid his cause. Well, then, might England look with anxiety, and even with terror, to this threatened and fast approaching event. But her energies were fully equal to the emergency. Elizabeth, now in the full plenitude of her power, was at the acme of her influence over the wills, and in a great degree over the affections of her subjects, at least over by far the greater portion of them; one factious and discontented party there was, but too insufficient to be any effectual barrier to her designs. And the cause was a popular one: Protestants and Romanists joined in deprecating a foreign yoke. Her powerful and commanding energies did not forsake her. Her appeal to her subjects was replied to with heart-thrilling readiness, the city of London setting a noble example; for when ministers desired from it five thousand men and fifteen ships, the lord mayor, in behalf of the city, craved their sovereign to accept of ten thousand soldiers and thirty ships. This spirited precedent was followed all through the empire, all classes vied with each other in contributing their utmost quota of aid, by means and by personal service, and amongst many similar instances it is recorded of "that noble, vertuous, honourable man, the Viscount Montague, that he now came, though he was very sickly, and in age, with a full resolution to live and dye in defence of the queene, and of his countrie, against all invaders, whether it were pope, king, and potentate whatsoever, and in that quarrell he would hazard his life, his children, his landes and goods. And to shew his mynde agreeably thereto, he came personally himselfe before the queene, with his band of horsemen, being almost two hundred; the same being led by his owne sonnes, and with them a yong child, very comely, seated on horseback, being the heire of his house, that is, ye eldest sonne to his sonne and heire; a matter much noted of many, to see a grandfather, father, and sonne, at one time on horsebacks afore a queene for her service." For three years had Philip been preparing, in all parts of his dominions, for this overwhelming expedition, and his equipments were fully equal to his extensive preparations; and so popular was the project in Spain, and so ardent were its votaries, that there was not a family of any note which had not contributed some of its dearest and nearest members; there were also one hundred and eighty Capuchins, Dominicans, Jesuits, and Mendicant friars; and so great was the enthusiastic anticipation, that even females hired vessels to follow the fleet which contained those they loved; two or three of these were driven by the storm on the coast of France. This Armada consisted of about one hundred and fifty ships, most of which were of an uncommon size, strength, and thickness, more like floating castles than anything else; and to this unwieldy size may, probably, be attributed much of their discomfiture. For the greater holiness of their action, twelve were called the Twelve Apostles; and a pinnace of the Andalusian squadron, commanded by Don Pedro de Valdez, was called the "Holy Ghost." The fleet is said to have contained thirty-two thousand persons, and to have cost every day thirty thousand ducats. The Duke of Parma's contemporary preparations were also prodigious, and of a nature which plainly declared the full certainty and confidence in which the invaders indulged of making good their object. But the preparations were doomed not to be even tried. The finesse and manoeuvres of the shrewd Sir Francis Walsingham[123] had caused the invasion to be retarded for a whole year, and by this time England was fully prepared for her foes. The result is known. The hollow treaty of peace into which Parma had entered in order, when all preparations were completed, to take her by surprise, was entered into with an equal share of hypocritical policy by Elizabeth. "So (says an old historian) as they seemed on both sides to sew the foxe's skin to the lion's." So powerful was the effect on the public mind, not only of this projected enterprise, but of its almost unhoped for discomfiture, that all possible means were taken to commemorate the event. One method resorted to was the manufacture of tapestry representing a series of subjects connected with it. At that time Flanders excelled all others in the manufacture of tapestry, it was scarcely indeed introduced into England; and our ancestors had a series of ten charts, designed by Henry Cornelius Vroom, a celebrated painter of Haarlem, from which their Flemish neighbours worked beautiful draperies, which ornamented the walls of the House of Lords. At the time of the Union with Ireland, when considerable repairs and alterations were made here, these magnificent tapestries were taken down, cleaned, and replaced, with the addition of large frames of dark stained wood, which set off the work and colouring to advantage. They formed a series of ten pictures, round which portraits of the distinguished officers who commanded the fleet were wrought into a border. With a prescience, which might now almost seem prophetic, Mr. John Pine, engraver, published in 1739 a series of plates taken from these tapestries; and "because," says he, "time, or accident, or moths may deface these valuable shadows, we have endeavoured to preserve their likeness in the preceding prints, which, by being multiplied and dispersed in various hands, may meet with that security from the closets of the curious, which the originals must scarce always hope for, even from the sanctity of the place they are kept in." "On the 17th day of July, 1588, the English discovered the Spanish fleet with lofty turrets like castles, in front like a half moon, the wing thereof spreading out about the length of seven miles, sailing very slowly, though with full sails, the winds being as it were tired with carrying them, and the ocean groaning under the weight of them." This forms the subject of the first tableau. The English commanders suffered the Spaniards to pass them unmolested, in order that they might hang upon their rear, and harass them when they should be involved in the Channel; for the English navy were unable to confront such a power in direct and close action. The second piece represents them thus, near Fowey, the English coast displayed in the back-ground, diversified perhaps somewhat too elaborately into hill and dale, and the foliage scattered somewhat too regularly in lines over each hill, but very pretty nevertheless. A small village with its church and spire appears just at the water edge, Eddystone lighthouse lifts its head above the waters, and, fit emblem of the patriotism which now burned throughout the land, and even glowed on the waters, a huge sea monster uprears itself in threatening attitude against the invading host, and shows a countenance hideous enough to scare any but Spaniards from its native shores. No. 3 represents the first engagement between the hostile fleets, and also the subsequent sailing of the Spanish Armada up the channel, closely followed by the English, whose ships were so much lighter, that in a running warfare of this kind they had greatly the advantage. The sea is alive too with dolphins and other strange fish, with right British hearts, as it has been said that "they seemed to oppose themselves with fierce and grim looks to the progress of the Spanish fleet." The view of the coast here is very good; and, where it retires from Start Point so as to form a bay or harbour, the perspective is really admirably indicated by two vessels dimly defined in the horizon. The views of the coast are varied and interesting; and the distances and perspective views are much more accurately delineated than was usual at the time; but, as we have remarked, they were designed by an eminent painter, and one whose particular _forte_ was the delineation of shipping and naval scenes. The pictures are certainly as a series devoid of variety. In two of them the Calais shore is introduced; and the intermixture of fortifications, churches, houses, and animated spectators, eagerly crowding to behold the fleets sailing by, produces an enlivening and busy scene, which, set off by the varied, lively, and appropriate colouring of the tapestry, would have a most striking effect. But the man who, unmoved by the excitement about him, is calmly fishing under the walls, without even turning his head toward the scene of tumult, must be blessed with an apathy of disposition which the poor enraged dolphins and porpoises might have envied. With these exceptions the tapestries are all sea pieces with only a distant view of the coast, and portray the two fleets in different stages of their progress, sometimes with engagements between single ships, but generally in an apparent state of truce, the English always the pursuers, and the Spaniards generally drawn up in form of a crescent. The last however shows the invading fleet hurriedly and in disorder sailing away, when bad weather, the Duke of Parma's delay, and a close engagement of fourteen hours, in which they "suffered grievously," having "had to endure all the heavy cannonading of their triumphant opponents, while they were struggling to get clear of the shallows," convinced them of the impossibility of a successful close to their enterprise, and made them resolve to take advantage of a southern breeze to make their passage up the North sea, and round Scotland home. "He that fights and runs away, May live to fight another day." So, however, did _not_ the Spaniards. "About these north islands their mariners and soldiers died daily by multitudes, as by their bodies cast on land did appear. The Almighty ordered the winds to be so contrary to this proud navy, that it was, by force, dissevered on the high seas west upon Ireland; and so great a number of them driven into sundry dangerous bays, and upon rocks, and there cast away; some sunk, some broken, some on the sands, and some burnt by the Spaniards themselves." Misfortune clung to them; storm and tempest on the sea, and inhospitable and cruel treatment when they were forced on shore so reduced them, that of this magnificent Armada only sixty shattered vessels found their home; and their humbled commander, the Duke de Medina Sidonia, was led to understand that his presence was not desired at court, and that a private country residence would be the most suitable. It was on this occasion, when the instant danger was past but by no means entirely done away, as for some time it was supposed that the Armada, after recruiting in some northern station, would return, that Elizabeth with a general's truncheon in her hand rode through the ranks of her army at Tilbury, and addressed them in a style which caused them to break out into deafening and tumultuous shouts and cries of love, and honour, and obedience to death. Thus magnificently the English heroine spoke: "My loving People,--We have been persuaded by some that are careful of our safety to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed Multitudes; but I assure you I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving People. Let Tyrants fear; I have always so behaved myself that, under GOD, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal Hearts and Goodwill of my Subjects; and therefore I am come amongst you, as you see at this time, not for my Recreation and Disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the Battle, to live and die amongst you all; to lay down for my GOD, and for my kingdom, and for my People, my Honour, and my Blood, even in the dust. I know I have the body but of a weak and feeble Woman, but I have the Heart and Stomach of a King, and of a King of England too; and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any Prince of Europe should dare to invade the Borders of my Realm; to which, rather than any Dishonour shall grow by me, I myself will take up Arms, I myself will be your General, Judge, and Rewarder of every one of your Virtues in the Field; I know already, for your forwardness, you have deserved Rewards and Crowns; and we do assure you, in the word of a Prince, they shall be duly paid you. In the mean time my Lieutenant-general shall be in my stead, than whom never Prince commanded a more noble or worthy subject; not doubting but, by your obedience to my General, by your Concord in the camp, and your Valour in the Field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over those Enemies of my GOD, of my Kingdoms, and of my People." The tapestry, the magnificent memorial of this great event, was lost irreparably in the devastating fire of 1834. Some fragments, it is said, were preserved, but we have not been able to ascertain this fact. One portion still exists at Plymouth, though shorn of its pristine brilliancy, as some of the silver threads were drawn out by the economists of the time of the Commonwealth. This piece was cut out to make way for a gallery at the time of the trial of Queen Caroline, was secreted by a German servant of the Lord Chamberlain, and sold by him to a broker who offered it to Government for 500_l._ Some inquiry was made into the circumstances, which, however, do not seem to have excited very great interest, since the relic was ultimately bought by the Bishop of Landaff (Van Mildert) for 20_l._ By him it was presented to the corporation of Plymouth, who still possess it. FOOTNOTE: [123] He contrived, by means of a Venetian priest, his spy, to obtain a copy of a letter from Philip to the Pope; a gentleman of the bedchamber taking the keys of the cabinet from the pockets of his holiness as he slept. Upon intelligence thus obtained, Walsingham got those Spanish bills protested at Genoa which should have supplied money for the preparations. CHAPTER XX. ON STITCHERY. "Here have I cause in men just blame to find, That in their proper praise too partial bee, And not indifferent to womankind, * * * * * Scarse do they spare to one, or two, or three, Rowme in their writtes; yet the same writing small Does all their deedes deface, and dims their glories all." Faerie Queene. "Christine, whiche understode these thynges of Dame Reason, replyed upon that in this manere. Madame Ise wel {that} ye myght fynde ynowe & of grete nombre of women praysed in scyences and in crafte; but knowe ye ony that by {the} vertue of their felynge & of subtylte of wytte _haue founde of themselfe_ ony newe craftes and scyences necessary, good, & couenable that were neuer founde before nor knowne? for it is not so grete maystry to folowe and to lerne after ony other scyence founde and comune before, as it is to fynde of theymselfe some newe thynge not accustomed before. "_Answere._--Ne doubte ye not {the} contrary my dere frende but many craftes and scyences ryght notable hathe ben founde by the wytte and subtylte of women, as moche by speculacyon of understandynge, the whiche sheweth them by wrytynge, as in craftes, {that} sheweth theym _in werkynge of handes_ & of laboure." _The Boke of the Cyte of Ladyes._ Again we must lament that the paucity of historical record lays us under the necessity of concluding, by inference, what we would fain have displayed by direct testimony. The respectable authority quoted above affirms that "many craftes and scyences ryght notable hathe ben founde by the wytte and subtylte of women," and it specifies particularly "werkynge of handes," by which we suppose the "talented" author means needlework. That the necessity for this pretty art was first created by woman, no one, we think, will disallow; and that it was first practised, as it has been subsequently perfected, by her, is a fact of which we feel the most perfect conviction. This conviction has been forced upon us by a train of reasoning which will so readily suggest itself to the mind of all our readers, that we content ourselves with naming the result, assured that it is unnecessary to trouble them with the intervening steps. One only link in the chain of "circumstantial evidence" will we adduce, and that is afforded by the ancient engraving to which we have before alluded in our remarks upon Eve's needle and thread. There whilst our "general mother" is stitching away at the fig-leaves in the most edifying manner possible, our "first father," far from trying to "put in a stitch for himself," is gazing upon her in the most utter amazement. And while she plies her busy task as if she had been born to stitchery, his eyes, _not_ his fingers, "Follow the nimble fingers of the fair," with every indication of superlative wonder and admiration. In fact, it is no slight argument in favour of the original invention of sewing by women, that men very rarely have wit enough to learn it, even when invented. There has been no lack of endeavour, even amongst the world's greatest and mightiest, but poor "work" have they made of it. Hercules lost all the credit of his mighty labours from his insignificance at the spinning wheel, and the sceptre of Sardanapalus passed from his grasp as he was endeavouring to "finger the fine needle and nyse thread." These love-stricken heroes might have said with Gower--had he then said it-- "What things she bid me do, I do, And where she bid me go, I go. And where she likes to call, I come, I serve, I bow, I look, I lowte, My eye followeth her about. What so she will, so will I, When she would set, I kneel by. And when she stands, then will I stand, _And when she taketh her work in hand_, Of _wevyng or of embroidrie_. Then can I _only_ muse and prie, Upon her fingers long and small." Our modern Hercules, the Leviathan of literature, was not more successful. _Dr. Johnson._--"Women have a great advantage that they may take up with little things, without disgracing themselves; a man cannot, except with fiddling. Had I learnt to fiddle I should have done nothing else." _Boswell._--"Pray, Sir, did you ever play on any musical instrument?" _Dr. Johnson._--"No, Sir; I once bought a flageolet, but I never made out a tune." _Boswell._--"A flageolet, Sir! So small an instrument? I should have liked to hear you play on the violoncello. _That_ should have been your instrument." _Dr. Johnson._--"Sir, I might as well have played on the violoncello as another; but I should have done nothing else. No, Sir; a man would never undertake great things could he be amused with small. I once tried knotting; Dempster's sister undertook to teach me, but _I could not learn it_." _Boswell._--"So, Sir; it will be related in pompous narrative, 'once for his amusement he tried knotting, nor did this Hercules disdain the distaff.'" _Dr. Johnson._--"Knitting of stockings is a good amusement. As a freeman of Aberdeen, I should be a knitter of stockings." Nor was Dr. Johnson singular in his high appreciation of the value of some sort of stitchery to his own half of the human race, if their intellects unfortunately had not been too obtuse for its acquisition. The great censor of the public morals and manners a century ago, the Spectator, recommends the same thing, though with his usual policy he feigns merely to be the medium of another's advice. "Mr. Spectator,--You are always ready to receive any useful hint or proposal, and such, I believe, you will think one that may put you in a way to employ the most idle part of the kingdom; I mean that part of mankind who are known by the name of the women's men, beaux, &c. Mr. Spectator, you are sensible these pretty gentlemen are not made for any manly employments, and for want of business are often as much in the vapours as the ladies. Now what I propose is this, that since knotting is again in fashion, which has been found a very pretty amusement, that you will recommend it to these gentlemen as something that may make them useful to the ladies they admire. And since it is not inconsistent with any game or other diversion, for it may be done in the playhouse, in their coaches, at the tea-table, and, in short, in all places where they come for the sake of the ladies (except at church, be pleased to forbid it there to prevent mistakes), it will be easily complied with. It is besides an employment that allows, as we see by the fair sex, of many graces, which will make the beaux more readily come into it; and it shows a white hand and a diamond ring to great advantage; it leaves the eyes at full liberty to be employed as before, as also the thoughts and the tongue. In short, it seems in every respect so proper that it is needless to urge it further, by speaking of the satisfaction these male knotters will find when they see their work mixed up in a fringe, and worn by the fair lady for whom, and with whom, it was done. Truly, Mr. Spectator, I cannot but be pleased I have hit upon something that these gentlemen are capable of; for it is sad so considerable a part of the kingdom (I mean for numbers) should be of no manner of use. I shall not trouble you further at this time, but only to say, that I am always your reader and generally your admirer. C. B. "P.S.--The sooner these fine gentlemen are set to work the better; there being at this time several fringes that stay only for more hands." But, alas! the sanguine writer was mistaken in supposing that at last gentlemen had found a something "of which they were capable." The days of knotting passed away before they had made any proficiency in it; nor have we ever heard that they have adopted any other branch or stitch of this extensive art. There is variety enough to satisfy anybody, and there are gradations enough in the stitches to descend to any capacity but a man's. There are tambour stitch--satin--chain--finny--new--bred-- ferne--and queen-stitches; there is slabbing--veining--and button stitch; seeding--roping--and open stitch: there is sockseam--herring-bone--long stitch--and cross stitch: there is rosemary stitch--Spanish stitch--and Irish stitch: there is back stitch--overcast--and seam stitch: hemming--felling--and basting: darning--grafting--and patching: there is whip stitch--and fisher stitch: there is fine drawing--gathering-- marking--trimming--and tucking. Truly all this does require some +nous+, and the lords of the creation are more to be pitied than blamed for that paucity of intellect which deprives them of "woman's pretty excuse for thought." Raillery apart, sewing is in itself an agreeable occupation, it is essentially a useful one; in many of its branches it is quite ornamental, and it is a gentle, a graceful, an elegant, and a truly feminine occupation. It causes the solitary hours of domestic life to glide more smoothly away, and in those social unpretending reunions which in country life and in secluded districts are yet not abolished, it takes away from the formality of sitting for conversation, abridges the necessity for scandal, or, to say the least of it, as we have heard even ungallant lordly man allow, it keeps us out of mischief. And there are frequent and oft occurring circumstances which invest it with characteristics of a still higher order. How many of "the sweet solicitudes that life beguile" are connected with this interesting occupation! either in preparing habiliments for those dependent on our care, and for love of whom many an unnecessary stitch which may tend to extra adornment is put in; or in those numberless pretty and not unuseful tokens of remembrance, which, passing from friend to friend, soften our hearts by the intimation they convey, that we have been cared for in our absence, and that while the world looked dark and desolate about us, unforgetting hearts far, far away were holding us in remembrance, busy fingers were occupied in our behoof. Oh! a reticule, a purse, a slipper, how valueless soever in itself, is, when fraught with these home memories, worth that which the mines of Golconda could not purchase. And of such a nature would be the feelings which suggested these well-known but exquisite lines:-- "The twentieth year is well nigh past, Since first our sky was overcast, Ah, would that this might be the last! My Mary! "Thy spirits have a fainter flow, I see thee daily weaker grow, 'Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary! "Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused and shine no more, My Mary! "For though thou gladly would'st fulfil The same kind office for me still, Thy sight now seconds not thy will, My Mary! "But well thou play'dst the housewife's part, And all thy threads with magic art, Have wound themselves about this heart, My Mary!" An interesting circumstance connected with needlework is mentioned in the delightful memoir written by lady Murray, of her mother, the excellent and admirable Lady Grisell Baillie. The allusion itself is very slight, merely to the making of a frill or a collar; but the circumstances connected with it are deeply interesting, and place before us a vivid picture of the deprivations of a family of rank and consequence in "troublous times," and moreover offer us a portrait from _real life_ of true feminine excellence, of a young creature of rank and family, of cultivated and refined tastes and of high connexions, utterly forgetting all these in the cheerful and conscientious discharge, for years, of the most arduous and humble duties, and even of menial and revolting offices. It may be that my readers all are not so well acquainted with this little book as ourselves, and, if so, they will not consider the following extract too long. "They lived three years and a half in Holland, and in that time she made a second voyage to Scotland about business. Her father went by the borrowed name of Dr. Wallace, and did not stir out for fear of being discovered, though who he was, was no secret to the wellwishers of the revolution. Their great desire was to have a good house, as their greatest comfort was at home; and all the people of the same way of thinking, of which there were great numbers, were continually with them. They paid for their house what was very extravagant for their income, nearly a fourth part; they could not afford keeping any servant, but a little girl to wash the dishes. "All the time they were there, there was not a week that my mother did not sit up two nights, to do the business that was necessary. She went to market, went to the mill to have the corn ground, which it seems is the way with good managers there, dressed the linen, cleaned the house, made ready the dinner, mended the children's stockings and other clothes, made what she could for them, and, in short, did everything. "Her sister, Christian, who was a year or two younger, diverted her father and mother and the rest who were fond of music. Out of their small income they bought a harpsichord for little money, but is a _Rucar_ now in my custody, and most valuable. My aunt played and sang well, and had a great deal of life and humour, but no turn to business. Though my mother had the same qualifications, and liked it as well as she did, she was forced to drudge; and many jokes used to pass betwixt the sisters about their different occupations. Every morning before six my mother lighted her father's fire in his study, then waked him (she was ever a good sleeper, which blessing, among many others, she inherited from him); then got him, what he usually took as soon as he got up, warm small beer with a spoonful of bitters in it, which he continued his whole life, and of which I have the receipt. "Then she took up the children and brought them all to his room, where he taught them everything that was fit for their age; some Latin, others French, Dutch, geography, writing, reading, English, &c.; and my grandmother taught them what was necessary on her part. Thus he employed and diverted himself all the time he was there, not being able to afford putting them to school; and my mother, when she had a moment's time, took a lesson with the rest in French and Dutch, and also diverted herself with music. I have now a book of songs of her writing when there; many of them interrupted, half-writ, some broke off in the middle of a sentence. She had no less a turn for mirth and society than any of the family, when she could come at it without neglecting what she thought more necessary. "Her eldest brother, Patrick, who was nearest her age, and bred up together, was her most dearly beloved. My father was there, forfeited and exiled, in the same situation with themselves. She had seen him for the first time in the prison with his father, not long before he suffered;[124] and from that time their hearts were engaged. Her brother and my father were soon got in to ride in the Prince of Orange's Guards, till they were better provided for in the army, which they were before the Revolution. They took their turn in standing sentry at the Prince's gate, but always contrived to do it together, and the strict friendship and intimacy that then began, continued to the last. "Though their station was then low, they kept up their spirits; the prince often dined in public, then all were admitted to see him: when any pretty girl wanted to go in they set their halberts across the door and would not let her pass till she gave each of them a kiss, which made them think and call them very pert soldiers. I could relate many stories on this subject; my mother could talk for hours and never tire of it, always saying it was the happiest part of her life. Her _constant attention was to have her brother appear right in his linen and dress_; they wore little point cravats and cuffs, which many a night she sat up to have in as good order for him as any in the place; and one of their greatest expenses was in dressing him as he ought to be. "As their house was always full of the unfortunate people banished like themselves, they seldom went to dinner without three, four, or five of them to share it with them; and many a hundred times I have heard her say she could never look back upon their manner of living there without thinking it a miracle. They had no want, but plenty of everything they desired, and much contentment, and always declared it the most pleasing part of her life, though they were not without their little distresses; but to them they were rather jokes than grievances. The professors and men of learning in the place came often to see my grandfather; the best entertainment he could give them was a glass of alabast beer, which was a better kind of ale than common. He sent his son Andrew, the late Lord Kimmerghame, a boy, to draw some for them in the cellar, and he brought it up with great diligence, but in the other hand the spigot of the barrel. My grandfather said, 'Andrew! what is that in your hand?' When he saw it he ran down with speed, but the beer was all run out before he got there. This occasioned much mirth, though perhaps they did not well know where to get more. "It is the custom there to gather money for the poor from house to house, with a bell to warn people to give it. One night the bell came, and no money was there in the house but a orkey, which is a doit, the smallest of all coin; everybody was so ashamed no one would go to give it, it was so little, and put it from one to the other: at last my grandfather said, 'Well, then, I'll go with it; we can do no more than give all we have.' They were often reduced to this by the delay of the ships coming from Scotland with their small remittances; then they put the little plate they had (all of which they carried with them) in the lumber, which is pawning it, till the ships came: and that very plate they brought with them again to Scotland, and left no debt behind them." This is a long but not an uninteresting digression, and we were led to it from the recollection that Lady Grisell Baillie, when encompassed with heavy cares, not only sat up a night or two every week, but felt a satisfaction, a pleasure, in doing so, to execute the needlework required by her family. And when sewing with a view to the comfort and satisfaction of others, the needlewoman--insignificant as the details of her employment may appear--has much internal satisfaction; she has a definite vocation, an important function. Nor few nor insignificant are her handmaidens, one or other of whom is ever at her side, inspiriting her to her task. Her most constant attendant is a matron of stayed and sober appearance, called UTILITY. The needlewoman's productions are found to vary greatly, and this variation is ascribed with truth to the influencing suggestions of the attendant for the time being. Thus, for instance, when Utility is her companion all her labours are found to result in articles of which the material is unpretending, and the form simple; for however she may be led wandering by the vagaries of her other co-mates, it is always found that in moments of steady reflection she listens with the most implicit deference to the intimations of this her experienced and most respectable friend. But occasionally, indeed frequently, Utility brings with her a fair and interesting relative, called TASTE; a gentle being, of modest and retiring mien, of most unassuming deportment, but of exquisite grace; and it is even observed that the needlewoman is more happy in her labours, and more universally approved when accompanied by these two friends, than by any other of the more eccentric ones who occasionally take upon themselves to direct her steps. Of these latter, FASHION is one of her most frequent visitors, and it is very often found that as she approaches Utility and Taste retire. This is not, however, invariably the case. Sometimes the three agree cordially together, and their united suffrages and support enhance the fame of the needlewoman to the very highest pitch; but this happy cordiality is of infrequent occurrence, and usually of short duration. Fashion is fickle, varying, inconstant; given to sudden partialities and to disruptions unlooked for, and as sudden. She laughs to scorn Utility's grave maxims, and exaggerates the graceful suggestions of Taste until they appear complete caricatures. Consequently they, offended, retire; and Fashion, heedless, holds on her own course, keeping the needlewoman in complete subjection to her arbitrary rule, which is often enforced in her transient absence by her own peculiar friend and intimate--CAPRICE. This fantastic being has the greatest influence over Fashion, who having no staple character of her own, is easily led every way at the beck of this whimsical and absurd dictator. The productions which emanate from the hands of the needlewoman under their guidance are much sought for, much looked at, but soon fall into utter contempt. But there is another handmaiden created for the delight and solace of mankind in general, and who from the earliest days, even until now, has been the loving friend of the needlewoman; ever whispering suggestions in her ear, or tracing patterns on her work, or gently guiding her finger through the fantastic maze. She is of the most exquisite beauty: fragile in form as the gossamer that floats on a summer's breath--brilliant in appearance as the colours that illumine the rainbow. So light, that she floats on an atom; so powerful that she raises empires, nay, the whole earth by her might. Her habits are the most vagrant imaginable; she is indeed the veriest little gossip in creation, but her disposition to roam is not more boundless than her power to gratify it. One instant she is in the depths of the ocean, loitering upon coral beds; the next above the stars, revelling in the immensity of space; one moment she tracks a comet in his course, the next hobnobs with the sea-king, or foots a measure with mermaids. A most skilful architect, she will build palaces on the clouds radiant with splendour and beautiful as herself; then, demolishing them with a breath, she flies to some moss-grown ruin of the earth, where a glimpse of her countenance drives away the bat and the owl; the wallflower, the moss, and the ivy, are displaced by the rose, the lily, and the myrtle; the damp building is clothed in freshness and splendour, the lofty halls resound with the melody of the lute and the harp, and the whole scene is vivid with light and life, with brilliancy and beauty. Again, in an instant, all is mute, and dim, and desolate, and the versatile sorceress is hunting the otter with an Esquimaux; or, pillowed on roses whose fragrance is wafted by softest zephyrs around, she listens to the strain which the Bulbul pours; or, wrapped in deepest maze of philosophic thought, she "treads the long extent of backward time," by the gigantic sepulchres of Egyptian kings; or else she flies "from the tempest-rocked Hebrides or the icebound Northern Ocean--from the red man's wilderness of the west--from the steppes of Central Asia--from the teeming swamps of the Amazon--from the sirocco deserts of Africa--from the tufted islands of the Pacific--from the heaving flanks of Ætna--or from the marbled shores of Greece;"--and draws the whole circle of her enchantments round the needlewoman's fingers, within the walls of an humble English cottage. But it were equally unnecessary and useless to dilate on her fairy wanderings. Suffice it to say that so great is the beneficent liberality of this fascinating being, that every corner of her rich domain is open to the highest or lowest of mortals without reserve; and so lovely is she herself, and so bewitching is her company, that few, few indeed, are they who do not cherish her as a bosom friend and as the dearest of companions. Bearing, however, her vagrant characteristics in mind, we shall not be surprised at the peculiar ideas some people entertain of her haunts, nor at the strange places in which they search for her person. One would hardly believe that hundreds of thousands have sought her through the smoke, din, and turmoil of those lines "where all antipathies to comfort dwell,"--the railroads; while others, more adventurous, plough the ocean deep, scale the mighty mountains, or soar amid the clouds for her; or, strange to say, have sought her in the battle field 'mid scenes of bloody death. Like Hotspur, such would pluck her-- "From the pale-faced moon;" or would "Dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground" for her. But she is a lady before whom strength and pride fall nerveless and abased; her gracious smiles are to be wooed, not commanded; her bright presence may be won, not forced; "For spotless, and holy, and gentle, and bright, She glides o'er the earth like an angel of light." Possessing all the gentleness of her mother--_Taste_, she shrinks from everything rude or abrupt; and when, as has frequently been the case, persons have attempted to lay violent hands upon her, she has invariably eluded their vigilance, by leaving in her place, tricked out in her superabundant ornaments to blind them, her half-brother--_Whim_, who sprang from the same father--_Wit_, but by another mother--_Humour_. She herself, wanderer as she is, is not without her favourite haunts, in which she lingers as if even loath to quit them at all. Finally, wherever yet the _accomplished_ needlewoman has been found, in the Jewish tabernacle of old--in the Grecian dome where the "Tale of Troy divine" glowed on the canvass--or in the bower of the high-born beauty of the "bright days of the sword and the lance"--in the cell of the pale recluse--or in the turretted prison of the royal captive--there has FANCY been her devoted friend, her inseparable companion. FOOTNOTE: [124] She was then a mere child, not more, if I remember rightly, than twelve years old. CHAPTER XXI. "LES ANCIENNES TAPISSERIES;" TAPESTRY OF ST. MARY'S HALL, COVENTRY; TAPESTRY OF HAMPTON COURT. "There is a sanctity in the past." Bulwer. All monuments of antiquity are so speedily passing away, all traces of those bygone generations on which the mind loves to linger, and which in their dim and indistinct memories exercise a spell, a holy often, and a purifying spell on the imagination are so fleeting, and when _irrevocably_ gone will be so lamented--that all testimonies which throw certain light on the habits and manners of the past, how slight soever the testimonies they afford, how trivial soever the characteristics they display, are of the highest possible value to an enlightened people, who apply the experience of the past to its legitimate and noblest use, the guidance and improvement of the present. In this point of view the work which forms the subject of this chapter[125] assumes a value which its intrinsic worth--beautiful as is its execution--would not impart to it; and it is thus rendered not less valuable as an historical record, than it is attractive as a work of taste. "Là chez eux, (we quote from the preface to the work itself,) c'est un siège ou un tournoi; ici un festin, plus loin une chasse; et toujours, chasse, festin, tournoi, siège, tout cela est _pourtraict au vif_, comme aurait dit Montaigne, tout cela nous retrace au naturel la vie de nos pères, nous montre leurs châteaux, leurs églises, leurs costumes, leurs armes et même, grâce aux légendes explicatives, leur langage à diverses époques. Il y a mieux. Si nous nous en rapportons à l'inventaire de Charles V., exécuté en 1379, toute la littérature française des siècles féconds qui précédèrent celui de ce sage monarque, aurait été par ces ordres traduite en laine." This book consists of representations of all the existing ancient tapestries which activity and research can draw from the hiding-places of ages, copied in the finest outline engraving, with letter-press descriptions of each plate. They are published in numbers, and in a style worthy of the object. We do not despair of seeing this spirited example followed in our own country, where many a beautiful specimen of ancient tapestry, still capable of renovation by care--is mouldering unthought of in the lumber-rooms of our ancient mansions. We have seen twenty-one numbers of this work, with which we shall deal freely: excepting, however, the eight parts which are entirely occupied by the Bayeux Tapestry. Our own chapters on the subject were written before we were fortunate enough to obtain a sight of these, which include the whole of the correspondence on the tapestry to which we in our sketch alluded. LA TAPISSERIE DE NANCY.--"aurait une illustre origine, et remonterait à une assez haute antiquité. Prise dans la tente de Charles le Téméraire, lors de la mort de ce prince, en 1477, devant la capitale de la Lorraine, qu'il assiégeait, elle serait devenue un meuble de la couronne, et aurait servi au palais des ducs de ce pays, depuis René 2 jusqu'à Charles IV.----C'est une de ces anciennes tapisseries flamandes dont le tissu, de laine tres fine, est éclairé par l'or et la soie. La soie et la laine subsistent encore, mais l'or ne s'aperçoit plus que dans quelques endroits et à la faveur d'un beau soleil. Nous ferons remarquer que le costume des divers personnages que figurent dans notre monument est tout à fait caractéristique. Ce sont bien là les vêtements et les ornements en usage vers la moitié du quinzième siècle, et la disposition artistique, le choix du sujet, ainsi que l'exécution elle-même portent bien l'empreinte du style des oeuvres de 1450 environ.----La maison de Bourgogne était fort riche en joyaux, en vaisselle d'or ou d'argent et en _tapis_." The tapestry presents an allegorical history, of which the object is to depict the inconveniences consequent on what is called "good cheer." Later on this formed the subject of "a morality." Originally this tapestry was only one vast page, the requisite divisions being wrought in the form of ornamented columns. It was afterwards cut in pieces, and unfortunately the natural divisions of the subject were not attended to in the severment. More unhappily still the pieces have since been rejoined in a wrong order; and after every possible endeavour to read them aright, the publishers are indebted to the "Morality" before referred to, which was taken from it, and was entitled "La Nef de Santé, avec le gouvernail du corps humain, et la condamnaçion des bancquetz, a la louenge de Diepte et Sobriéte, et la Traictie des Passions de l'ame." Banquet, Bonnecompagnie, Souper, Gourmandise, Friandise, Passetemps, Je pleige d'autant, Je boy à vous, and other rare personifications, not forgetting that indispensable guest _then_ in all courtly pastime, Le fol, "go it" to their hearts' content, until they are interrupted _vi et armis_ by a ghastly phalanx in powerful array of Apoplexie, Ydropsie, Epilencie, Pleurisie, Esquinancie, Paralasie, Gravelle, Colicque, &c. TAPISSERIE DE DIJON.--"On conviendra qu'il serait difficile de trouver un monument de ce genre plus fidèle sur le rapport historique, plus intéressant pour les arts, et plus digne d'être reproduit par la gravure. Je ferai en outre remarquer combien cet immense tableau de laine, qui est unique, renferme de détails précieux à la fois pour la panoplie, pour les costumes, et l'architecture du commencement du 16 siècle, ainsi que pour l'histoire monumentale de Dijon." This tapestry, judging by the engravings in the work we quote, must be very beautiful. The groups are spirited and well disposed; and the countenances have so much _nature_ and expression in them, as to lead us readily to credit the opinion of the writer that they were portraits. The buildings are well outlined; and in the third piece an excellent effect is produced by exposing--by means of an open window, or some simple contrivance of the sort--part of the interior of the church of Nôtre Dame, and so displaying the brave leader of the French army, La Tremouille, as he offers thanks before the shrine of the Virgin. The tapestry was worked immediately after the siege of Dijon, (1513) and represents in three scenes the most important circumstances relating to it; the costumes, the arms, and the architecture of the time being displayed with fidelity and exactitude. The first represents the invading army before the walls; the second a solemn procession in honour of Notre-Dame-de-Bonne-Espoir. In the midst is elevated the image of the Virgin, which is surrounded by the clergy in their festal vestments, by the religious communities, by the nobility, the bourgeois, and the military, all bearing torches. To this solemn procession was attributed the truce which led to a more lasting peace, though there are some heterodox dissentients who attribute this substantial advantage to the wisdom and policy of the able commander La Tremouille, who shared with Bayard the honourable distinction of being "sans peur et sans reproche." TAPISSERIES DE BAYARD.--A château which belonged to this noted hero was despoiled at the Revolution, and it was doubtless only owing to an idea of its worthlessness that some of the ancient tapestry was left there. These fragments, in a deplorable state, were purchased in 1807, and there are yet sufficient of them to bear testimony to their former magnificence, and to decide the date of their creation at the close of the fourteenth or beginning of the fifteenth century. The subjects are taken from Homer's "Iliad," and "il est probable (says M. Jubinal) que ce poëme se trouvait originairement reproduit en laine presque tout entier, malgré sa longueur, car ce n'était pas le travail qui effrayait nos aïeux." Valenciennes was celebrated for the peculiar fineness and gloss of its tapestry. By the indefatigable industry of certain antiquarians, some pieces in good preservation representing a tournament, have lately been taken from a garret, dismantled of their triple panoply of dust, cleaned and hung up; after being traced from their original abode in the state apartments of a prince through various gradations, to the damp walls of a registry office, where, from their apparent fragility alone, they escaped being cut into floor mats. Those of the CHATEAU D'HAROUE, and of the COLLECTION DUSOMMERARD, are also named here; but there is little to say about them, as the subjects are more imaginary than historical. They are of the sixteenth century, representing scenes of the chase, and are enlivened with birds in every position, some of them being, in proportion to other figures, certainly _larger_ than life, and "twice as natural." TAPISSERIES DE LA CHAISE DIEU.--"L'Abbaye de la Chaise Dieu fut fondée en 1046 par Robert qu'Alexandre 2de canonisa plus tard en 1070; et dont l'origine se rattachait à la famille des comtes de Poitou. "Robert fut destiné de bonne heure aux fonctions du sacerdoce." He went on pilgrimage to the tombs of some of the Apostles, and it was on his return thence that he was first struck with the idea of founding a coenobitical establishment. "Réuni à un soldat nommé Etienne, à un solitaire nommé Delmas, et à un chanoine nommé Arbert, il se retira dans la solitude, et s'emparant du désert au profit de la religion, il planta la croix du Sauveur dans les lieux jusqu'à-là couverts de forêts et de bruyères incultes, et rassembla quelques disciples pour vivre auprès de lui sous la règle qu'un ange lui avait, disait il, apportée du ciel. "Bientôt la réputation des cénobites s'étendit; Robert fut reconnu comme leur chef. De toutes parts on accourut les visiter. Des donations leur furent faites, et sur les ruines d'une ancienne église une nouvelle basilique s'éleva. "Telle est à peu prés l'histoire primitive de l'abbaye de la Chaise-Dieu." The Chaise-Dieu tapestries are fourteen in number, three of them are ten feet square, and the others are six feet high by eighteen long, excepting one which measures nearly twenty-six feet. Twelve are hung on the carved wood-work of the choir of the great church, and thus cover an immense space. Further off is the ancient choir of the monks, of which the wood-work of sculptured oak is surprisingly rich. Not even the cathedral of Rheims, of which the wood-work has long been regarded as the most beautiful in the kingdom, contains so great a number. Unhappily in times of intestine commotion this chef d'oeuvre has been horribly mutilated by the axes of modern iconoclasts, more ferocious than the barbarians of old. The two other tapestries are placed in the Church of the Penitents, an ancient refectory of the monks which now forms a dependent chapel to the great temple. These magnificent hangings are woven of wool and silk, and one yet perceives almost throughout, golden and silver threads which time has spared. When the artist prepared to copy them for the work we are quoting, no one dreamt of the richness buried beneath the accumulated dust and dirt of centuries. They were carefully cleaned, and then, says the artist, "Je suis ébloui de cette magnificence que nous ne soupçonnions plus. C'est admirable. Les Gobelins ne produisent pas aujourd'hui de tissus plus riches et plus éclatans. Imaginez-vous que les robes des femmes, les ornemens, les colonnettes sont émaillés, ruisselants de milliers de pierres fines et de perles," &c. It would be tedious to attempt to describe individually the subjects of these tapestries. They interweave the histories of the Old and New Testaments; the centre of the work generally representing some passage in the life of our Saviour, whilst on each side is some correspondent typical incident from the Old Testament. Above are rhymed quatrains, either legendary or scriptural; and below and around are sentences drawn from the prophets or the psalms. These tapestries appear to have been the production of the close of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth centuries, denoting in the architecture and costumes _more_ the reigns of Charles VIII. and Louis XI., than of Louis XII. and Francis I. Such pieces were probably long in the loom, since the tapestry of Dijon, composed of a single _lai_ of twenty-one feet, required not less, according to a competent judge, than ten years' labour. There are some most beautiful, even amongst these all-beautiful engravings, which we much regret to see there--engravings of the tapestry in the cathedral of Aix, which tapestry ought still to enrich our own country. Shame on those under whose barbarous rule these, amongst other valuable and cherished monuments, were, as relics of papistry, bartered for foreign gold. "L'histoire manuscrite de la ville d'Aix dit que cette tapisserie avait servi à l'église de St. Paul de Londres ou à toute autre église cathédrale d'Angleterre; qu'à l'époque de la Réformation, les tableaux et les tapisseries ayant été exclus des temples, les Anglais cherchèrent à vendre dans les pays étrangers quelques-unes des tapisseries qui ornaient leurs cathédrales, et _qu'ils en brûlèrent un plus grand nombre_!" This tapestry represents the history of our Saviour, in twenty seven compartments, being in the whole about 187 feet long. It is supposed to have been woven about 1511, when William Warham was Archbishop of Canterbury, and Chancellor. Warham had been previously Bishop of London; and as his arms are on this tapestry, and also the arms of two prior bishops of London who are supposed to have left legacies to ornament the church which were applied towards defraying the expenses of this manufacture, it seems quite probable that its destination was St. Paul's, and not any other cathedral church. The arms of the king are inwrought in two places; for Henry contributed to the embellishment of this church. He loved the arts; he decorated churches; and though he seceded from the Roman communion, he maintained throughout his life magnificent decorations in his favourite churches as well as the worship of the ancient Catholic Church. It was first under Edward, and more decidedly under Elizabeth, that the ceremonies of the church were completely changed, and that those which had been considered only decent and becoming were stigmatised as popish. Nor did this fantasy reach its height until the time of Cromwell. Lord Douglas, Earl of Buchan, who founded the Society of Antiquaries in Edinburgh, endeavoured during the interval of the Peace of Amiens, to treat with the Archbishop of Aix for the repurchase of this tapestry. He would have placed it in a Gothic church belonging to an ancient Scotch Abbey on his domains. He had already ornamented this church with several beautiful monuments of antiquity, and he wished to place this tapestry there as a national monument, but the treaty was broken off. The TAPESTRIES OF AULHAC, representing the siege of Troy, and those of BEAUVAIS, embracing a variety of subjects from history both sacred and profane; of the LOUVRE, representing the Miracle of St. Quentin, tapestry representing ALEXANDER, King of Scotland; and those of ST. REMI, at Rheims, are all engraven and described. Those of the magnificent cathedral church at Rheims, consisting of forty tapestries, forming different collections, but all on religious subjects, will probably form the material for future numbers. * * * * * That there are ancient tapestries existing in England fully equal to those in France is, we think, almost certain; but of course they are not to be summoned from the "vasty deep" of neglect and oblivion by the powerless voice of an obscure individual. Gladly would we, had it been in our power, have enriched our sketch by references to some of them. The following notice of a tapestry at Coventry is drawn from "Smith's Selections of the ancient Costume of Britain;" and the names of the tapestries at Hampton Court Palace from "Pyne's Royal Residences." We have recently visited Hampton Court for the express purpose of viewing the tapestries. There, we believe, they were, entirely (with the exception of a stray inch or two here and there) hung over with paintings. The splendid though neglected tapestry of St. Mary's Hall at Coventry offers a variety of materials no less interesting on account of the sanctity and misfortunes of the prince (Henry VI.) who is there represented, than curious as specimens of the arts of drawing, dyeing, and embroidery of the time in which it was executed. It is thirty feet in length and ten in height; and is divided into six compartments, three in the upper tier and three in the lower, containing in all upwards of eighty figures or heads. The centre compartment of the upper row, in its perfect and original state, represented the usual personification of the Trinity--(the Trinity Guild held its meetings in the hall of St. Mary) surrounded by angels bearing the various instruments of the Passion. But the zeal of our early reformers sacrificed this part of the work, and substituted in its stead a tasteless figure of Justice, which now holds the scales amidst the original group of surrounding angels. The right hand division of this tier is occupied with sundry figures of saints and martyrs, and the opposite side is filled with a group of female saints. In the centre compartment below is represented the Virgin Mary in the clouds, standing on the crescent, surrounded by the twelve Apostles and many cherubs. But the two remaining portions of this fine tapestry constitute its chief value and importance to the city of Coventry, as they represent the figures of Henry VI., his Queen, the ambitious, and crafty, and cruel, yet beautiful and eloquent and injured Margaret of Anjou, and many of their attendants. During all the misfortunes of Henry, the citizens of Coventry zealously supported him; and their city is styled by historians "Queen Margaret's secret bower." As the tapestry was purposely made for the hall, and probably placed there during the lives of the sovereigns, the figures may be considered as authentic portraits. * * * * * The first Presence Chamber in Hampton Court is (or was) hung with rich ancient tapestry, representing a landscape, with the figures of Nymphs, Fawns, Satyrs, Nereides, &c. There is some fine ancient tapestry in the King's Audience Chamber, the subjects being, on one side, Abraham and Lot dividing their lands; and on the other, God appearing to Abraham purchasing ground for a burying-place. The tapestry on the walls of the King's Drawing-Room represents Abraham entertaining the three Angels; also Abraham, Isaac, and Rebecca. The tapestry which covers three sides of the King's State Bedchamber represents the history of Joshua. The walls of the Queen's Audience Chamber are covered with tapestry hangings, which represent the story of Abraham and Melchisedec, and Abraham and Rebecca. The Ball Room is called also the Tapestry Gallery, from the superb suite of hangings that ornament its walls, which was brought from Flanders by General Cadogan, and set up by order of George I. The series of seven compartments describes the history of Alexander the Great, from the paintings of the celebrated Charles le Brun. The first represents the story of Alexander and his horse Bucephalus; the second, the visit of Alexander to Diogenes; the third, the passage of Alexander over the Granicus; the fourth, Alexander's visit to the mother and wife of Darius, in their tent, after the battle of Arbela; the fifth, Alexander's triumphal entrance into Babylon; the sixth, Alexander's battle with Porus; the seventh, his second entrance into Babylon.--These magnificent hangings were wrought at the Gobelins. The tapestry hangings in the king's private bedchamber describe the naval battle of Solebay between the combined fleets of England and France and the Dutch fleet, in 1672. * * * * * Of all the tapestries here recorded, the last only, representing the Battle of Solebay, are now visible. FOOTNOTE: [125] "Les Anciennes Tapisseries Historiées, ou Collection des Monumens les plus remarquables, de ce genre, qui nous soient restés du moyen age." A Paris. CHAPTER XXII. EMBROIDERY. "Flowers, Plants and Fishes, Beasts, Birds, Flyes, and Bees, Hils, Dales, Plaines, Pastures, Skies, Seas, Rivers, Trees, There's nothing neere at hand, or farthest sought, But with the Needle may be shap'd and wrought." John Taylor. Perhaps of all nations in very ancient times the Medes and Babylonians were most celebrated for the draperies of the apartments, about which they were even more anxious than about their attire. All their noted hangings with which their palaces were so gorgeously celebrated were wrought by the needle. And though now everywhere the loom is in request, still these and other eastern nations maintain great practice and unrivalled skill in needle embroidery. Sir John Chardin says of the Persians, "Their tailors certainly excel ours in their sewing. They make carpets, cushions, veils for doors, and other pieces of furniture of felt, in Mosaic work, which represents just what they please. This is done so neatly, that a man might suppose the figures were painted instead of being a kind of inlaid work. Look as close as you will, the joining cannot be seen;" and the Hall of Audience at Jeddo, we are told, is a sumptuous edifice; the roof covered with gold and silver of exquisite workmanship, the throne of massy gold enriched with pearls, diamonds, and other precious stones. The tapestry is of the finest silk, wrought by the _most curious hands_, and adorned with pearls, gold, and silver, and other costly embellishments. About the close of the ninth or beginning of the tenth century, the Caliph Moctadi's whole army, both horse and foot, (says Abulfeda) were under arms, which together made a body of 160,000 men. His state officers stood near him in the most splendid apparel, their belts shining with gold and gems. Near them were 7000 black and white eunuchs. The porters or door-keepers were in number 700. Barges and boats, with the most superb decorations, were swimming on the Tigris. Nor was the palace itself less splendid, in which were hung _38,000 pieces of tapestry, 12,500 of which were of silk embroidered with gold_. The carpets on the floor were 22,000. A hundred lions were brought out with a keeper to each lion. Among the other spectacles of rare and stupendous luxury, was a tree of gold and silver, which opened itself into eighteen larger branches, upon which, and the other less branches sate birds of every sort, made also of gold and silver. The tree glittered with leaves of the same metals, and while its branches, through machinery, appeared to move of themselves, the several birds upon them warbled their natural notes. The skill of the eastern embroiderer has always had a wide field for display in the decoration of the _tents_, which were in such request in hot countries, among Nomadic tribes, or on military excursions. The covering of tents among the Arabs is usually black goats' hair, so compactly woven as to be impervious to rain. But there is, besides this, always an inner one, on which the skill and industry of the fair artisan--for both outer and inner are woven and wrought by women--is displayed. This is often white woollen stuff, on which flowers are usually embroidered. Curious hangings too are frequently hung over the entrances, when the means of the possessors do not admit of more general decoration. Magnificent _perdahs_, or hangings of needlework, are always suspended in the tents of persons of rank and fashion, who assume a more ambitious decoration; and there are accounts in various travellers of tents which must have been gorgeous in the extreme. Nadir Shah, out of the abundance of his spoils, caused a tent or tabernacle to be made of such beauty and magnificence as were almost beyond description. The outside was covered with fine scarlet broad cloth, the lining was of violet coloured satin, on which were representations of all the birds and beasts in the creation, with trees and flowers; the whole made of pearls, diamonds, rubies, emeralds, amethysts, and other precious stones; and the tent-poles were decorated in like manner. On both sides of the peacock throne was a screen, on which were the figures of two angels in precious stones. The roof of the tent consisted of seven pieces; and when it was transported to any place, two of these pieces packed in cotton were put into a wooden chest, two of which chests were a sufficient load for an elephant: the screen filled another chest. The walls of the tent--tent-poles and tent-pins, which were of massy gold, loaded five more elephants; so that for the carriage of the whole were required seven elephants. This magnificent tent was displayed on all festivals in the public hall at Herat, during the remainder of Nadir Shah's reign. Sir J. Chardin tells us that the late King of Persia caused a tent to be made which cost 2,000,000_l._ They called it the House of Gold, because gold glittered everywhere about it. He adds, that there was an inscription wrought upon the cornice of the antechamber, which gave it the appellation of the Throne of the second Solomon, and at the same time marked out the year of its construction. The following description of Antar's tent from the Bedouin romance of that name has been often quoted:-- "When spread out it occupied half the land of Shurebah, for it was the load of forty camels; and there was an awning at the door of the pavilion under which 4000 of the Absian horse could skirmish. It was embroidered with burnished gold, studded with precious stones and diamonds, interspersed with rubies and emeralds, set with rows of pearls; and there was painted thereon a specimen of every created thing, birds and trees, and towns, and cities, and seas, and continents, and beasts, and reptiles; and whoever looked at it was confounded by the variety of the representations, and by the brilliancy of the silver and gold: and so magnificent was the whole, that when the pavilion was pitched, the land of Shurebah and Mount Saadi were illuminated by its splendour." Extravagant as seems this description, we are told that it is not so much exaggerated as we might imagine. "Poetical license" has indeed been indulged in to the fullest extent, especially as to the size of the pavilion; yet Marco Polo in sober earnest describes one under which 10,000 soldiers might be drawn up _without incommoding the nobles at the audience_. It is well known that Mohammed forbade his followers to imitate any animal or insect in their embroideries or ornamental work of any sort. Hence the origin of the term _arabesque_, which we now use to express all odd combinations of patterns from which human and animal forms are excluded. That portion of the race which merged in the Moors of Spain were especially remarked for their magnificent and beautiful decorative work; and from them did we borrow, as before alluded to, the custom of using tapestry for curtains. At the present day none are perhaps more patient and laborious embroiderers than the Chinese; their regularity and neatness are supposed to be unequalled, and the extreme care with which they work preserves their shades bright and shining. The Indians excel in variety of embroidery. They embroider with cotton on muslin, but they employ on gauze, rushes, skins of insects, nails and claws of animals, of walnuts, and dry fruits, and above all, the feathers of birds. They mingle their colours without harmony as without taste; it is only a species of wild mosaic, which announces no plan, and represents no object. The women of the wandering tribes of Persia weave those rich carpets which are called Turkey carpets, from the place of their immediate importation. But this country was formerly celebrated for magnificent embroideries, and also for tapestries composed of silk and wool embellished with gold. This latter beautiful art, though not entirely lost, is nearly so for want of encouragement. But of all eastern nations the Moguls were the most celebrated for their splendid embroideries; walls, couches, and even floors were covered with silk or cotton fabrics richly worked with gold, and often, as in ancient times, with gems inwrought. But this empire has ever been proverbial for its splendour; at one time the throne of the Mogul was estimated at 4,000,000_l._ sterling, made up by diamonds and other jewels, received in gifts during a long succession of ages. We have, in a former chapter, alluded to the custom of embroidery in imitation of feathers, and also for using real feathers for ornamental work. This is much the custom in many countries. Some of the inhabitants of New Holland make artificial flowers with feathers, with consummate skill; and they are not uncommon, though vastly inferior, here. Various articles of dress are frequently seen made of them, as feather muffs, feather tippets, &c.; and we have seen within the last few months a bonnet covered with _peacock's_ feathers. This, however, is certainly the _extreme_ of fancy. The celebrated Mrs. Montague had hangings ornamented with feathers: the hangings doubtless are gone: the name of the accomplished lady who displayed them in her fashionable halls is sinking into oblivion, but the poet, who perchance merely glanced at them, lives for ever. ON MRS. MONTAGUE'S FEATHER HANGINGS. "The birds put off their ev'ry hue, To dress a room for Montague. The peacock sends his heavenly dyes, His _rainbows_ and his _starry eyes_; The pheasant plumes, which round infold His mantling neck with downy gold; The cock his arch'd tail's azure shew; And, river blanch'd, the swan his snow. All tribes beside of Indian name, That glossy shine, or vivid flame, Where rises, and where sets the day, Whate'er they boast of rich and gay, Contribute to the gorgeous plan, Proud to advance it all they can. This plumage, neither dashing shower, Nor blasts that shape the dripping bow'r, Shall drench again or discompose-- But screen'd from ev'ry storm that blows It boasts a splendour ever new, Safe with protecting Montague." Some Canadian women embroider with their own hair and that of animals; they copy beautifully the ramifications of moss-agates, and of several plants. They insinuate in their works skins of serpents and morsels of fur patiently smoothed. If their embroidery is not so brilliant as that of the Chinese, it is not less industrious. The negresses of Senegal embroider the skin of different animals of flowers and figures of all colours. The Turks and Georgians embroider marvellously the lightest gauze or most delicate crape. They use gold thread with inconceivable delicacy; they represent the most minute objects on morocco without varying the form, or fraying the finest gold, by a proceeding quite unknown to us. They frequently ornament their embroidery with pieces of money of different nations, and travellers who are aware of this circumstance often find in their old garments valuable and interesting coins. The Saxons imitate the designs of the most accomplished work-people; their embroidery with untwisted thread on muslin is the most delicate and correct we are acquainted with of that kind. The embroidery of Venice and Milan has long been celebrated, but its excessive dearness prevents the use of it. There is also much beautiful embroidery in France, but the palm for precedence is ably disputed by the Germans, especially those of Vienna. This progress and variations of this luxury amongst various nations would be a subject of curious research, but too intricate and lengthened for our pages. We have intimations of it at the earliest period, and there is no age in which it appears to have been totally laid aside, no nation in which it was in utter disrepute. Some of its most beautiful patterns have been, as in architecture, the adaptation of the moment from natural objects, for one of the first ornaments in Roman embroidery, when they departed from their primitive simplicity in dress, was the imitation of the leaf of the acanthus--the same leaf which imparted grace and ornament to the Corinthian capital. But it would be endless to enter into the subject of patterns, which doubtless were everywhere originally simple enough, with "here and there a tuft of crimson yarn, Or scarlet crewel." And patient minds must often have planned, and assiduous fingers must long have wrought, ere such an achievement was perfected, as even the covering of the joint stool described by Cowper:-- "At length a generation more refin'd Improved the simple plan; made three legs four, Gave them a twisted form vermicular, And o'er the seat with plenteous wadding stuff'd, Induc'd a splendid cover, green and blue, Yellow and red, of tapestry richly wrought And woven close, or needlework sublime. There might ye see the piony spread wide, The full-blown rose, the shepherd and his lass, Lapdog and lambkin with black staring eyes, And parrots with twin cherries in their beak." But from the days of Elizabeth the practice of ornamental needlework, of embroidery, had gradually declined in England: the literary and scholastic pursuits which in her day had superseded the use of the needle, did not indeed continue the fashion of later times; still the needle was not resumed, nor perhaps has embroidery and tapestry ever from the days of Elizabeth been so much practised as it is now. Many _individuals_ have indeed been celebrated, as one thus:-- "She wrought all needleworks that women exercise, With pen, frame, or stoole; all pictures artificial, Curious knots or trailes, what fancy could devise; Beasts, birds, or flowers, even as things natural." But still embroidery had ceased to be looked upon as a necessary accomplishment, or taught as an important part of education. In the early part of the last century women had become so mischievous from the lack of this employment, that the "Spectator" seriously recommends it to the attention of the community at large. "Mr. Spectator, "I have a couple of nieces under my direction who so often run gadding abroad, that I do not know where to have them. Their dress, their tea, and their visits, take up all their time, and they go to bed as tired doing nothing, as I am often after quilting a whole under-petticoat. The only time they are not idle is while they read your Spectator, which being dedicated to the interests of virtue, I desire you to recommend the long-neglected art of needlework. Those hours which in this age are thrown away in dress, play, visits, and the like, were employed in my time in writing out receipts, or working beds, chairs, and hangings for the family. For my part I have plied my needle these fifty years, and by my good will would never have it out of my hand. It grieves my heart to see a couple of idle flirts sipping their tea, for a whole afternoon, in a room hung round with the industry of their great-grandmother. Pray, Sir, take the laudable mystery of embroidery into your serious consideration; and as you have a great deal of the virtue of the last age in you, continue your endeavours to reform the present. "I am, &c., ------" "In obedience to the commands of my venerable correspondent, I have duly weighed this important subject, and promise myself from the arguments here laid down, that all the fine ladies of England will be ready, as soon as the mourning is over (for Queen Anne) to appear covered with the work of their own hands. "What a delightful entertainment must it be to the fair sex whom their native modesty, and the tenderness of men towards them exempt from public business, to pass their hours in imitating fruits and flowers, and transplanting all the beauties of nature into their own dress, or raising a new creation in their closets and apartments! How pleasing is the amusement of walking among the shades and groves planted by themselves, in surveying heroes slain by the needle, or little Cupids which they have brought into the world without pain! "This is, methinks, the most proper way wherein a lady can show a fine genius; and I cannot forbear wishing that several writers of that sex had chosen to apply themselves rather to tapestry than rhyme. Your pastoral poetesses may vent their fancy in great landscapes, and place despairing shepherds under silken willows, or drown them in a stream of mohair. The heroic writers may work of battles as successfully, and inflame them with gold, or stain them with crimson. Even those who have only a turn to a song or an epigram, may put many valuable stitches into a purse, and crowd a thousand graces into a pair of garters. "If I may, without breach of good manners, imagine that any pretty creature is void of genius, and would perform her part herein but very awkwardly, I must nevertheless insist upon her working, if it be only to keep her out of harm's way. "Another argument for busying good women in works of fancy is, because it takes them off from scandal, the usual attendant of tea-tables and all other inactive scenes of life. While they are forming their birds and beasts, their neighbours will be allowed to be the fathers of their own children, and Whig and Tory will be but seldom mentioned where the great dispute is, whether blue or red is now the proper colour. How much greater glory would Sophronia do the general if she would choose rather to work the battle of Blenheim in tapestry than signalise herself with so much vehemence against those who are Frenchmen in their hearts! "A third reason I shall mention is, the profit that is brought to the family when these pretty arts are encouraged. It is manifest that this way of life not only keeps fair ladies from running out into expenses, but is at the same time an actual improvement. "How memorable would that matron be, who shall have it subscribed upon her monument, 'She that wrought out the whole Bible in tapestry, and died in a good old age, after having covered 300 yards of wall in the Mansion House!' "The premises being considered, I humbly submit the following proposals to all mothers in Great Britain:-- "1. That no young virgin whatsoever be allowed to receive the addresses of her first lover, but in a suit of her own embroidering. "2. That before every fresh humble servant she shall be obliged to appear with a new stomacher at the least. "3. That no one be actually married until she hath the child-bed pillows, &c., ready stitched, as likewise the mantle for the boy quite finished. "These laws, if I mistake not, would effectually restore the decayed art of needlework, and make the virgins of Great Britain exceedingly nimble-fingered in their business." CHAPTER XXIII. NEEDLEWORK ON BOOKS. "And often did she look On that which in her hand she bore, In velvet bound and broider'd o'er-- Her breviary book." Marmion. "Books are ours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age-- These hoards of truth we can unlock at will." Wordsworth. Deep indeed are our obligations for those treasures which "we can unlock at will:" treasures of far more value than gold or gems, for they oftentimes bestow that which gold cannot purchase--even forgetfulness of sorrow and pain. Happy are those who have a taste for reading and leisure to indulge it. It is the most beguiling solace of life: it is its most ennobling pursuit. It is a magnificent thing to converse with the master spirits of past ages, to behold them as they were; to mingle thought with thought and mind with mind; to let the imagination rove--based however on the authentic record of the past--through dim and distant ages; to behold the fathers and prophets of the ancient earth; to hold communion with martyrs and prophets, and kings; to kneel at the feet of the mighty lawgiver; to bend at the shrine of the eternal poet; to imbibe inspiration from the eloquent, to gather instruction from the wise, and pleasure from the gifted; to behold, as in a glass, all the majesty and all the beauty of the mighty PAST, to revel in all the accumulated treasures of Time--and this, all this, we have by reading the privilege to do. Imagination indeed, the gift of heaven, may soar elate, unchecked, though untutored through time and space, through Time to Eternity, and may people worlds at will; but that truthful basis which can alone give permanence to her visions, that knowledge which ennobles and purifies and elevates them is acquired from books, whether "Song of the Muses, says historic tale, Science severe, or word of Holy Writ, Announcing immortality and joy." The "word of Holy Writ," the BIBLE--we pass over its hopes, its promises, its consolations--these themes are too sacred even for reference on our light page--but here, we may remark, we see the world in its freshness, its prime, its glory. We converse truly with godlike men and angelic women. We see the mighty and majestic fathers of the human race ere sin had corrupted all their godlike seeming; ere sorrow--the bequeathed and inherited sorrows of ages--had quite seared the "human face divine;" ere sloth, and luxury, and corruption, and decay, had altered features formed in the similitude of heaven to the gross semblance of earth; and we walk step by step over the new fresh earth as yet untrodden by foot of man, and behold the ancient solitudes gradually invaded by his advancing steps. Most gentle, most soothing, most faithful companions are books. They afford amusement for the lonely hour; solace perchance for the sorrowful one: they offer recreation to the light-hearted; instruction to the inquiring; inspiration to the aspiring mind; food for the thirsty one. They are inexhaustible in extent as in variety: and oh! in the silent vigil by the suffering couch, or during the languor of indisposition, who can too highly praise those silent friends--silent indeed to the ear, but speaking eloquently to the heart--which beguile, even transiently, the mind from present depressing care, strengthen and elevate it by communion with the past, or solace it by hopes of the future! Listen how sweetly one of the first of modern men apostrophises his books:-- "My days among the dead are past; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old; My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day. "With them I take delight in weal, And seek relief in woe; And while I understand and feel How much to them I owe, My cheeks have often been bedew'd, With tears of thoughtful gratitude. "My thoughts are with the dead; with them I live in long past years; Their virtues love, their faults condemn, Partake their hopes and fears, And from their lessons seek and find Instruction with a humble mind. "My hopes are with the dead; anon My place with them will be, And I with them shall travel on Through all futurity; Yet leaving here a name, I trust, That will not perish in the dust."[126] Yet how little are we of the present day, who have books poured into our laps, able to estimate their real value! Nor is it possible that they can ever again be estimated as they once were. The universal diffusion of them, the incalculable multiplication of them, seems to render it impossible that the world can ever be deprived of them. No. We must call up some of the spirits of the "pious and painful" amanuenses of those days when the fourth estate of the realm, the public press--WAS NOT--to tell us the real value of the literary treasures we now esteem so lightly. He will tell us that in his day the donation of a single book to a religious house was thought to give the donor a claim to eternal salvation; and that an offering so valued, so cherished, would be laid on the high altar amid pomp and pageantry. He might perhaps personally remember the prior and convent of Rochester pronouncing an irrevocable sentence of damnation on him who should purloin or conceal their treasured Latin translation of Aristotle's physics. He would tell us that the holiest and wisest of men would forego ease and luxury and spend laborious years in transcribing books for the good of others; he will tell us that amongst many others, Osmond, Bishop of Salisbury, did this, and perchance he will name that Guido de Jars, in his fortieth year, began to copy the Bible on vellum, with rich and elegant decorations, and that the suns of half a century had risen and set, ere, with unintermitting labour and unwearied zeal, he finished it in his ninetieth. He will also tell us, that when a book was to be sold, it was customary to assemble all persons of consequence and character in the neighbourhood, and to make a formal record that they were present on this occasion. Thus, amongst the royal MSS. is a book thus described:-- "This book of the Sentences belongs to Master Robert, archdeacon of Lincoln, which he bought of Geoffrey the chaplain, brother of Henry vicar of Northelkingston, in the presence of Master Robert de Lee, Master John of Lirling, Richard of Luda, clerk, Richard the Almoner, the said Henry the vicar and his clerk, and others: and the said archdeacon gave the said book to God and saint Oswald, and to Peter abbot of Barton, and the convent of Barden." These are a few, a very few of such instances as a spirit of the fourteenth century might allude to--to testify the value of books. Indeed, even so late as the reign of Henry the VI., when the invention of paper greatly facilitated the multiplication of MSS. the impediments to study, from the scarcity of books, must have been very great, for in the statutes of St. Mary's College, Oxford, is this order--"Let no scholar occupy a book in the library above one hour, or two hours at the most; lest others shall be hindered from the use of the same." The scarcity of parchment seems indeed at times to have been a greater hindrance to the promulgation of literature than even the laborious and tedious transcription of the books. About 1120, one Master Hugh, being appointed by the convent of St. Edmondsbury to write a copy of the Bible, for their library, could procure no parchment in England. The following particulars of the scarcity of books before the era of printing, gathered chiefly by Warton, are interesting. In 855, Lupus, abbot of Ferrieres in France, sent two of his monks to Pope Benedict the third, to beg a copy of Cicero de Oratore, and Quintilian's Institutes, and some other books: for, says the abbot, although we have part of these books, yet there is no whole or complete copy of them in all France. Albert, abbot of Gemblours, who with incredible labour and immense expense had collected a hundred volumes on theological, and fifty on general subjects, imagined he had formed a splendid library. About 790, Charlemagne granted an unlimited right to hunting to the abbot and monks of Sithin, for making their gloves and girdles of the skins of the deer they killed, and covers for their books. At the beginning of the tenth century, books were so scarce in Spain, that one and the same copy of the Bible, St. Jerome's Epistles, and some volumes of ecclesiastical offices and martyrologies, often served several different monasteries. Amongst the constitutions given to the monks of England by Archbishop Lanfranc, in 1072, the following injunction occurs: At the beginning of Lent, the librarian is ordered to deliver a book to each of the religious; a whole year was allowed for the perusal of this book! and at the returning Lent, those monks who had neglected to read the books they had respectively received, are commanded to prostrate themselves before the abbot to supplicate his indulgence. This regulation was partly occasioned by the low state of literature in which Lanfranc found the English monasteries to be; but at the same time it was a matter of necessity, and partly to be referred to the scarcity of copies of useful and suitable authors. John de Pontissara, Bishop of Winchester, borrowed of his cathedral convent of St. Swithin at Winchester, in 1299, BIBLIAM BENE GLOSSATAM, or the Bible, with marginal annotations, in two large folio volumes; but he gives a bond for due return of the loan, drawn up with great solemnity. This Bible had been bequeathed to the Convent the same year by his predecessor, Bishop Nicholas de Ely: and in consideration of so important a bequest, and 100 marks in money, the monks founded a daily mass for the soul of the donor. About 1225 Roger de Tusula, dean of York, gave several Latin Bibles to the University of Oxford, with a condition that the students who perused them should deposit a cautionary pledge. The Library of that University, before the year 1300, consisted only of a few tracts, chained or kept in chests in the choir of St. Mary's Church. Books often brought excessive prices in the middle ages. In 1174, Walter, Prior of St. Swithin's at Winchester, and afterwards abbot of Westminster, purchased of the monks of Dorchester in Oxfordshire Bede's Homilies and St. Austin's Psalter, for twelve measures of barley, and a pall on which was embroidered in silver the history of Birinus converting a Saxon king. About 1400, a copy of John de Meun's Roman de la Rose was sold before the palace-gate at Paris for forty crowns, or 33_l._ 6_s._ 6_d._ In Edward the Third's reign, one hundred marks (equal to 1000_l._) were paid to Isabella de Lancaster, a nun of Ambresbury, for a book of romance, purchased from her for the king's use. Warton mentions a book of the Gospels, in the Cotton Library, as a fine specimen of Saxon calligraphy and decorations. It is written by Eadfrid, Bishop of Durham, in the most exquisite manner. Ethelwold his successor did the illuminations, the capital letters, the picture of the cross, and the Evangelists, with infinite labour and elegance; and Bilfred, the anchorite, covered the book, thus written and adorned, with silver plates and precious stones. It was finished about 720. The encouragement given in the English monasteries for transcribing books was very considerable. In every great abbey there was an apartment called "The Scriptorium;" where many writers were constantly busied in transcribing not only the Service Books for the choir, but books for the Library. The Scriptorium of St. Alban's Abbey was built by Abbot Paulin, a Norman, who ordered many volumes to be written there, about 1080. Archbishop Lanfranc furnished the copies. Estates were often granted for the support of the Scriptorium. That at St. Edmundsbury was endowed with two mills. The tithes of a rectory were appropriated to the Cathedral convent of St. Swithin, at Winchester, _ad libros transcribendos_, in the year 1171. Nigel in the year 1160 gave the monks of Ely two churches, ad libros faciendos. When the library at Croyland Abbey was burnt in 1091, seven hundred volumes were consumed which must have been thus laboriously produced. Fifty-eight volumes were transcribed at Glastonbury during the government of one Abbot, about the year 1300. And in the library of this monastery, the richest in England, there were upwards of four hundred volumes in the year 1248. But whilst there is sufficient cause to admire the penmen of former days, in the mere transcription of books, shall we not marvel at the beauty with which they were invested; the rich and brilliant illuminations, the finely tinted paintings, the magnificent and laborious ornament with which not merely every page, but in many manuscripts almost every line was decorated! They, such as have been preserved, form a valuable proportion of the riches of the principal European libraries: of the Vatican of Rome; the Imperial at Vienna; St. Mark's at Venice; the Escurial in Spain; and the principal public libraries in England. The art of thus illuminating MSS., now entirely lost, had attained the highest degree of perfection, and is, indeed, of ancient origin. In the remotest times the common colours of black and white have been varied by luxury and taste. Herodotus and Diodorus Siculus mention purple and yellow skins, on which MSS. were written in gold and silver; and amongst the eastern nations rolls of this kind (that is gold and silver on purple), exquisitely executed, are found in abundance, but of a later date. Still they appear to have been familiar with the practice at a much more remote period; and it is probable that the Greeks acquired this art from Egypt or India. From the Greeks it would naturally pass to the Latins, who appear to have been acquainted with it early in the second century. The earliest specimen of purple or rose-coloured vellum is recorded in the life of the Emperor Maximinus the younger, to whom, in the commencement of the third century, his mother made a present of the poems of Homer, written on purple vellum in gold letters. Such productions were, however, at this time very rare. The celebrated Codex Argenteus of Ulphilas, written in silver and gold letters on a purple ground, about 360, is probably the most ancient existing specimen of this magnificent mode of calligraphy. In the fourth century it had become more common: many ecclesiastical writers allude to it, and St. Jerome especially does so; and the following spirited dialogue has reference to his somewhat condemnatory allusions. "Purple vellum Greek MSS.," says Breitinger, "if I remember rightly, are scarcer than white crows!" BELINDA. "Pray tell us 'all about them,' as the children say." PHILEMON. "Well, then, at your next court visit, let your gown rival the emblazoned aspect of these old purple vellums, and let stars of silver, thickly 'powdered' thereupon, emulate, if they dare, the silver capital Greek letters upon the purple membranaceous fragments which have survived the desolations of time! You see, I do not speak _coldly_ upon this picturesque subject!" ALIMANSA. "Nor do I feel precisely as if I were in the _frigid_ zone! But proceed and expatiate." PHILEMON. "The field for expatiating is unluckily very limited. The fact of the more ancient MSS. before noticed, the _Pentateuch_ at _Vienna_, the fragment of the Gospels in the British Museum, with a Psalter or two in a few libraries abroad, are all the MSS. which just now occur to me as being distinguished by a _purple tint_, for I apprehend little more than a _tint_ remains. Whether the white or the purple vellum be the more ancient, I cannot take upon me to determine; but it is right you should be informed that St. Jerom denounces as _coxcombs_, all those who, in his own time, were so violently attached to your favourite purple colour." LISARDO. "I have a great respect for the literary attainments of St. Jerom; and although in the absence of the old Italic version of the Greek Bible, I am willing to subscribe to the excellence of his own, or what is now called the _Vulgate_, yet in matters of taste, connected with the harmony of colour, you must excuse me if I choose to enter my protest against that venerable father's decision." PHILEMON. "You appear to mistake the matter St. Jerom imagined that this appetite for purple MSS. was rather artificial and voluptuous; requiring regulation and correction--and that, in the end, men would prefer the former colour to the intrinsic worth of their vellum treasures." * * * * * We must not omit the note appended to this colloquy. "The general idea seems to be that PURPLE VELLUM MSS. were intended only for 'choice blades,' let us rather say, tasteful bibliomaniacs--in book collecting. St. Jerom, as Philemon above observes, is very biting in his sarcasm upon these 'purple leaves covered with letters of gold and silver.'--'For myself and my friends (adds that father), let us have lower priced books, and distinguished not so much for beauty as for accuracy.' "Mabillon remarks that these purple treasures were for the 'princes' and 'noblemen' of the times. "And we learn from the twelfth volume of the Specileginum of Theonas, that it is rather somewhat unseemly 'to write upon purple vellum in letters of gold and silver, unless at the particular desire of a prince.'" "The _subject_ also of MSS. frequently regulated the mode of executing it. Thus we learn from the 28th Epistle of Boniface (Bishop and Martyr) to the abbess Eadburga, that this latter is entreated 'to write the Epistles of St. Peter, the master and Apostle of Boniface, in letters of gold, for the greater reverence to be paid towards the Sacred Scriptures, when the Abbess preaches before her carnally-minded auditors.'" About the close of the seventh century the Archbishop of York procured for his church a copy of the Gospels thus adorned; and that this magnificent calligraphy was then new in England may be inferred from a remark made on it that "inauditam ante seculis nostris quoddam miraculam." This art, however, shortly after declined everywhere; and in England the art of writing in gold letters, even without the rich addition of the purple-tinted material, seems to have been but imperfectly understood. The only remarkable instance of it is said to be the charter of King Edgar, in the new Minster at Winchester, in 966. In the fourteenth century it seems to have been more customary than in those immediately preceding it. But we have been beguiled too long from that which alone is connected with our subject, viz., the _binding_ of books. Probably this was originally a plain and unadorned oaken cover; though as books were found only in monastic establishments, or in the mansions of the rich, even the cover soon became emblematic of its valuable contents. The early ornaments of the back were chiefly of a religious character--a representation of the Virgin, of the infant Saviour, of the Crucifixion. Dibdin mentions a Latin Psalter of the ninth century in this primitive and substantial binding, and on the oaken board was riveted a large brass crucifix, originally, probably, washed with silver; and also a MS. of the Latin Gospels of the twelfth or thirteenth century, in oaken covers, inlaid with pieces of carved ivory, representing our Saviour with an angel above him, and the Virgin and Child. The carved ivory may probably be a subsequent interpolation, but it does not the less exemplify the practice. But as the taste for luxury and ornament increased, and the bindings, even the clumsy wooden ones, became more gorgeously decorated--the most costly gems and precious stones being frequently inlaid with the golden ornaments--the shape and form of them was altogether altered. With a view to the preservation and the safety of the riches lavished on them, the bindings were made double, each side being perhaps two inches thick; and on a spring being touched, or a secret lock opened, it divided, almost like the opening of a cupboard-door, and displayed the rich ornament and treasure within; whilst, when closed, the outside had only the appearance of a plain, somewhat clumsy binding. At that time, too, books were ranged on shelves with the leaves in front; therefore great pains were taken, both in the decoration of the edges, and also in the rich and ornamental clasps and strings which united the wooden sides. These clasps were frequently of gold, inlaid with jewels. The wooden sides were afterwards covered with leather, with vellum, with velvet,--though probably there is no specimen of velvet binding before the fourteenth century; and, indeed, as time advanced, there is scarcely any substance which was not applied to this purpose. Queen Elizabeth had a little volume of prayers bound in solid gold, which at prayer-time she suspended by a gold chain at her side; and we saw, a few years ago, a small devotional book which belonged to the Martyr-King, Charles, and which was given by him to the ancestress of the friend who showed it to us, beautifully bound in tortoise-shell and finely-carved silver. But it was not to gold and precious stones alone that the bindings of former days were indebted for their beauty. The richest and rarest devices of the needlewoman were often wrought on the velvet, or brocade, which became more exclusively the fashionable material for binding. This seems to have been a favourite occupation of the high-born dames about Elizabeth's day; and, indeed, if we remember the new-born passion for books, which was at its height about that time, we shall not wonder at their industry being displayed on the covers as well as the insides[127]. But very probably this had been a favourite object for the needle long before this time, though unhappily the fragility of the work was equal to its beauty, and these needleworked covers have doubtless, in very many instances, been replaced by more substantial binding. The earliest specimen of this description of binding remaining in the British Museum is "Fichetus (Guil.) Rhetoricum, Libri tres. (Impr. in Membranis) 4to. Paris ad Sorbonæ, 1471." It has an illuminated title-page, showing the author presenting, on his knees, his book to the Pope; and it is decorated throughout with illuminated letters and other ornaments; for long after the invention of printing, blank spaces were left, for the capitals and headings to be filled up by the pencil. Hence it is that we find some books quite incomplete; these spaces having been left, and not filled up. When the art of illuminating still more failed, the red ink was used as a substitute, and everybody is acquainted with books of this style. The binding of Fitchet's 'Rhetoric' is covered with crimson satin, on which is wrought with the needle a coat-of-arms: a lion rampant in gold thread, in a blue field, with a transverse badge in scarlet silk; the minor ornaments are all wrought in fine gold thread. The next in date which I have seen there is a description of the Holy Land, in French, written in Henry VII.'s time, and illuminated. It is bound in rich maroon velvet, with the royal arms: the garter and motto embroidered in blue; the ground crimson; and the fleurs-de-lys, leopards, and letters of the motto in gold thread. A coronet, or crown, of gold thread, is inwrought with pearls; the roses at the corners are in red silk and gold; and there is a narrow border round the whole in burnished gold thread. There is an edition of Petrarch's Sonnets, printed at Venice in 1544. It is in beautiful preservation. The back is of dark crimson velvet, and on each side is wrought a large royal coat-of-arms, in silk and gold, highly raised. The book belonged to Edward VI., but the arms are not his. Queen Mary's Psalter, containing also the history of the Old Testament in a series of small paintings, and the work richly illuminated throughout, had once an exterior worthy of it. The crimson velvet, of which only small particles remain to attest its pristine richness, is literally thread-bare; and the highly-raised embroidery of a massy fleur-de-lys is also worn to the canvas on which it was wrought. On one side scarcely a gold thread remains, which enables one, however, to perceive that the embroidery was done on fine canvas, or, perhaps, rather coarse linen, twofold: that then it was laid on the velvet, seamed to it, and the edges cut away, the stitches round the edge being covered with a kind of cordon, or golden thread, sewed over;--just, indeed, as we sew muslin on net. There are three, in the same depository, of the date of Queen Elizabeth. One a book of prayers, copied out by herself before she ascended the throne. The back is covered with canvas, wrought all over in a kind of tentstitch of rich crimson silk, and silver thread intermixed. This groundwork may or may not be the work of the needle, but there is little doubt that Elizabeth's own needle wrought the ornaments thereon, viz., H. K. intertwined in the middle; a smaller H. above and below, and roses in the corners; all raised high, and worked in blue silk and silver. This is the dedication of the book: "Illustrissimo ac potentissimo Henrico octavo, Angliæ, Franciæ, Hiberniæq. regi, fidei defensori, et secundum Christum ecclesiæ Anglicanæ et Hibernicæ supremo capiti. Elizabeta Majest. S. humillima filia omne felicitatem precatur, et benedictionem suam suplex petit." There is in the Bodleian library among the MSS. the epistles of St. Paul, printed in old black letter, the binding of which was also queen Elizabeth's work; and her handwriting appears at the beginning, viz. "August.--I walk many times into the pleasant fields of the Holy Scriptures, where I plucke up the goodliesome herbes of sentences by pruning: eate them by reading: chawe them by musing: and laie them up at length in the hie seate of memorie by gathering them together: that so having tasted thy sweeteness I may the less perceive the bitterness of this miserable life." The covering is done in needlework by the queen (then princess) herself: on one side an embroidered star, on the other a heart, and round each, as borders, Latin sentences are wrought, such as "Beatus qui Divitias scripturæ legens verba vertit in opera."--"Vicit omnia pertinax virtus." &c., &c.[128] There is a book in the British Museum, very _petite_, a MS containing a French Pastoral--date 1587--of which the satin or brocade back is loaded with needlework in gold and silver, which now, however, looks heavy and tasteless. But the most beautiful is Archbishop Parker's, "De Antiquitate Britannicæ Ecclesiæ:" A.D. 1572. The material of the back is rich green velvet, but it is thickly covered with embroidery: there has not indeed, originally, been space to lay a fourpenny-piece. It is entirely covered with animals and flowers, in green, crimson, lilac, and yellow silk, and gold thread. Round the edge is a border about an inch broad, of gold thread. Of the date of 1624 is a book of magnificent penmanship, by the hand of a female, of emblems and inscriptions. It is bound in crimson silk, having in the centre a Prince's Feather worked in gold-thread, with the feathers bound together with large pearls, and round it a wreath of leaves and flowers. Round the edge there is a broader wreath, with corner sprigs all in gold thread, thickly interspersed with spangles and gold leaves. All these books, with the exception of the one quoted from Ballard's Memoirs, were most obligingly sought out and brought to me by the gentlemen at the British Museum. Probably there are more; but as, unfortunately for my purpose, the books there are catalogued according to their authors, their contents, or their intrinsic value, instead of their outward seeming, it is not easy, amidst three or four hundred thousand volumes, to pick out each insignificant book which may happen to be-- "In velvet bound and broider'd o'er." FOOTNOTES: [126] Southey. [127] We have seen cartouche-boxes embroidered precisely in the same style, and probably therefore of the same period as some of the embroidered books here referred to. [128] Ballard's Memoirs. CHAPTER XXIV. NEEDLEWORK OF ROYAL LADIES. "Thus is a Needle prov'd an Instrument Of profit, pleasure, and of ornament, Which mighty Queenes have grac'd in hand to take." John Taylor. Needlework is an art so attractive in itself; it is capable of such infinite variety, and is such a beguiler of lonely, as of social hours, and offers such scope to the indulgence of fancy, and the display of taste; it is withal--in its lighter branches--accompanied with so little bodily exertion, not deranging the most _recherché_ dress, nor incommoding the most elaborate and exquisite costume, that we cannot wonder that it has been practised with ardour even by those the farthest removed from any necessity for its exercise. Therefore has it been from the earliest ages a favourite employment of the high and nobly born. The father of song hardly refers at all to the noble dames of Greece and Troy but as occupied in "painting with the needle." Some, the heroic achievements of their countrymen on curtains and draperies, others various rich and rare devices on banners, on robes and mantles, destined for festival days, for costly presents to ambassadors, or for offerings to friends. And there are scattered notices at all periods of the prevalence of this custom. In all ages until this of "inventions rare Steam towns and towers." the preparation of apparel has fallen to woman's share, the spinning, the weaving, and the manufacture of the material itself from which garments were made. But, though we read frequently of high-born dames spinning in the midst of their maids, it is probable that this drudgery was performed by inferiors and menials, whilst enough, and more than enough of arduous employment was left for the ladies themselves in the rich tapestries and embroideries which have ever been coveted and valued, either as articles of furniture, or more usually for the decoration of the person. Rich and rare garments used to be infinitely more the attribute of high rank than they now are; and in more primitive times a princess was not ashamed to employ herself in the construction of her own apparel or that of her relatives. Of this we have an intimation in the old ballad of 'Hardyknute'--beginning "Stately stept he east the wa', And stately stept he west." "Farewell, my dame, sae peerless good, (And took her by the hand,) Fairer to me in age you seem, Than maids for beauty fam'd. My youngest son shall here remain To guard these lonely towers, And shut the silver bolt that keeps Sae fast your painted bowers. "And first she wet her comely cheeks, And then her boddice green, Her silken cords of twisted twist, Well plett with silver sheen; And apron set with mony a dice Of needlewark sae rare, Wove by nae hand, as ye may guess, Save that of Fairly fair." But it harmonises better with our ideas of high or royal life to hear of some trophy for the warrior, some ornament for the knightly bower, or some decorative offering for the church, emanating from the taper fingers of the courtly fair, than those kirtles and boddices which, be they ever so magnificent, seem to appertain more naturally to the "milliner's practice." Therefore, though we give the gentle Fairly fair all possible praise for notability in the "Apron set with mony a dice Of needlework sae rare," we certainly look with more regard on such work as that of the Danish princesses who wrought a standard with the national device, the Raven,[129] on it, and which was long the emblem of terror to those opposed to it on the battle-field. Of a gentler character was the stupendous labour of Queen Matilda--the Bayeux tapestry--on which we have dwelt too long elsewhere to linger here, and which was wrought by her and under her superintendence. Queen Adelicia, the second wife of Henry I., was a lady of distinguished beauty and high talent: she was remarkable for her love of needlework, and the skill with which she executed it. One peculiar production of her needle has recently been described by her accomplished biographer; it was a standard which she embroidered in silk and gold for her father, during the memorable contest in which he was engaged for the recovery of his patrimony, and which was celebrated throughout Europe for the exquisite taste and skill displayed by the royal Adelicia in the design and execution of her patriotic achievement. This standard was unfortunately captured at a battle near the castle of Duras, in 1129, by the Bishop of Liege and the Earl of Limbourg, the old competitor of Godfrey for Lower Lorraine, and was by them placed as a memorial of their triumph in the great church of St. Lambert, at Liege, and was for centuries carried in procession on Rogation days through the streets of that city. The church of St. Lambert was destroyed during the French Revolution. The plain where this memorable trophy was taken is still called the "Field of the Standard." Perhaps, second only to Queen Matilda's work, or indeed superior to it, as being entirely the production of her own hand, were the needlework pieces of Joan D'Albert, who ascended the throne of Navarre in 1555. Though her own career was varied and eventful, she is best known to posterity as the mother of the great Henry IV. She adopted the reformed religion, of which she became, not without some risk to her crown thereby, the zealous protectress, and on Christmas-day, 1562, she made a public profession of the Protestant faith; she prohibited the offices of the Catholic religion to be performed in her domains, and suffered in consequence many alarms from her Catholic subjects. But she possessed great courage and fortitude, and baffled all open attacks. Against concealed treachery she could not contend. She died suddenly at the court of France in 1572, as it was strongly suspected, by poison. This queen possessed a vigorous and cultivated understanding; was acquainted with several languages, and composed with facility both in prose and verse. Her needlework, the amusement and solace of her leisure hours, was designed by her as "a commemoration of her love for, and steadiness to, the reformed faith." It is thus described by Boyle: "She very much loved devices, and she wrought with her own hand fine and large pieces of tapestry, among which was a suit of hangings of a dozen or fifteen pieces, which were called THE PRISONS OPENED; by which she gave us to understand that she had broken the pope's bonds, and shook off his yoke of captivity. In the middle of every piece is a story of the Old Testament which savours of liberty--as the deliverance of Susannah; the departure of the children of Israel out of Egypt; the setting Joseph at liberty, &c. And at all the corners are broken chains, shackles, racks, and gibbets; and over them in great letters, these words of the third chapter of the second Epistle to the Corinthians, UBI SPIRITUS IBI LIBERTAS. "To show yet more fully the aversion she had conceived against the Catholic religion, and particularly against the sacrifice of the mass, having a fine and excellent piece of tapestry, made by her mother, Margaret, before she had suffered herself to be cajoled by the ministers, in which was perfectly well wrought the sacrifice of the mass, and a priest who held out the holy host to the people, she took out the square in which was this history, and, instead of the priest, with her own hand substituted a fox, who turning to the people, and making a horrible grimace with his paws and throat, delivered these words, DOMINUS VOBISCUM." We are told that Anne of Brittany, the good Queen of France, assembled three hundred of the children of the nobility at her court, where, under her personal superintendence, they were instructed in such accomplishments as became their rank and sex, but the girls, most especially, made accomplished needlewomen. Embroidery was their occupation during some specified hours of every day, and they wrought much tapestry, which was presented by their royal protectress to different churches. Her daughter Claude, the queen of Francis I., formed her court on the same model and maintained the same practice; Queen Anne Boleyn was educated in her court, and was doomed to consume a large portion of her time in the occupation of the needle. It was an employment little suited to her lively disposition and coquettish habits, and we do not hear, during her short occupation of the throne, that she resorted to it as an amusement. "Ai lavori d'Aracne, all'ago, ai fusi Inchinar non degnò la man superba." The practice of devoting some hours to embroidery seems to have continued in the French court. When the young Queen of Scots was there, the French princesses assembled every afternoon in the queen's (Catherine of Medici's) private apartment, where "she usually spent two or three hours in embroidery with her female attendants." It is also said, that Katharine of Arragon was in the habit of employing the ladies of her court in needlework, in which she was herself extremely assiduous, working with them and encouraging them by her example. Burnet records, that when two legates requested once to speak with her, she came out to them with a skein of silk about her neck, and told them she had been within at work with her women. An anecdote, as far as regards the skein of silk, somewhat more housewifely than queenly. In this she differed much from her successor, Queen Catherine Parr, for having had her nativity cast when a child, and being told, from the disposition of the stars and planets in her house, that she was born to sit in the highest seat of imperial majesty; child as she was, she was so impressed by the prediction, that when her mother required her to work she would say, "My hands are ordained to touch crowns and sceptres, not needles and spindles." When the orphaned daughter of this lady, by the lord admiral, was consigned to the care of the Duchess of Suffolk, the furniture of "her former nursery" was to be sent with her. The list is rather curious, and we subjoin it. "Two pots, three goblets, one salt parcel gilt, a maser with a band of silver and parcel gilt, and eleven spoons; a quilt for the cradle, three pillows, three feather-beds, three quilts, a testor of scarlet embroidered with a counterpoint of silk say belonging to the same, and curtains of crimson taffeta; two counterpoints of imagery for the nurse's bed, six pair of sheets, six fair pieces of hangings within the inner chamber; four carpets for windows, ten pieces of hangings of the twelve months within the outer chamber, two quishions of cloth of gold, one chair of cloth of gold, two wrought stools, a bedstead gilt, with a testor and counterpoint, with curtains belonging to the same." Return we to Katharine of Arragon: her needlework labours have been celebrated both in Latin and English verse. The following sonnet refers to specimens in the Tower, which now indeed are swept away, having left not "a wreck behind." "I read that in the seventh King Henrie's reigne, Fair Katharine, daughter to the Castile king, Came into England with a pompous traine Of Spanish ladies which shee thence did bring. She to the eighth King Henry married was, And afterwards divorc'd, where virtuously (Although a Queene), yet she her days did pass In working with the _needle_ curiously, As in the Tower, and places more beside, Her excellent memorials may be seen; Whereby the _needle's_ prayse is dignifide By her faire ladies, and herselfe, a Queene. Thus far her paines, here her reward is just, Her works proclaim her prayse, though she be dust." The same pen also celebrated her daughter's skill in this feminine occupation. Mary was skilled in all sorts of embroidery; and when her mother's divorce consigned her to a private life, she beguiled the intervals of those severer studies in which she peaceably and laudably occupied her time in various branches of needlework. It is not unlikely the Psalter we have alluded to elsewhere was embroidered by herself; and a reference to the fashionable occupations of the day will bring to our minds various trifling articles, the embroidery of which beguiled her time, though they have long since passed away. "Her daughter Mary here the sceptre swaid, And though she were a Queene of mighty power, Her memory will never be decaid, Which by her works are likewise in the Tower, In Windsor Castle, and in Hampton Court, In that most pompous roome called Paradise; Who ever pleaseth thither to resort, May see some workes of hers, of wondrous price. Her greatness held it no disreputation To take the needle in her royal hand; Which was a good example to our nation To banish idleness from out her land: And thus this Queene, in wisdom thought it fit, The needle's worke pleas'd her, and she grac'd it." We extract the following notice of the gentle and excellent Lady Jane Grey, from the 'Court Magazine.' "Ten days' royalty! Alas, how deeply fraught with tragic interest is the historic page recording the events of that brief period! and how immeasurable the results proceeding therefrom. Love, beauty, religious constancy, genius, and learning, were seen in early womanhood intermingling their glorious halo with the dark shadowings of despotism, imprisonment, and violent death upon the scaffold! "In the most sequestered part of Leicestershire, backed by rude eminences, and skirted by lowly and romantic valleys, stands Bradgate, the birth-place and abode of Lady Jane Grey. The approach to Bradgate from the village of Cropston is striking. On the left stands a group of venerable trees, at the extremity of which rise the remains of the once magnificent mansion of the Greys of Groby. On the right is a hill, known by the name of 'The Coppice,' covered with slate, but so intermixed with fern and forest-flowers as to form a beautiful contrast to the deep shades of the surrounding woods. To add to the loveliness of the scene, a winding trout-stream finds its way from rock to rock, washing the walls of Bradgate until it reaches the fertile meadows of Swithland. "In the distance, situate upon a hill, is a tower, called by the country-people Old John, commanding a magnificent view of the adjoining country, including the distant castles of Nottingham and Belvoir. With the exception of the chapel and kitchen, the princely mansion has now become a ruin; but a tower still stands, which tradition points out as her birth-place. Traces of the tilt-yard are visible, with the garden-walls, and a noble terrace whereon Jane often walked and sported in her childhood; and the rose and lily still spring in favourable nooks of that wilderness, once the pleasance, or pleasure-garden of Bradgate. Near the brook is a beautiful group of old chestnut-trees. "'This was thy home then, gentle Jane, This thy green solitude; and here At evening from the gleaming pane, Thine eye oft watched the dappled deer (While the soft sun was in its wane) Browsing beside the brooklet clear; The brook runs still, the sun sets now, The deer yet browseth--where art thou?' "Instead of skill in drawing she cultivated the art of painting with the needle, and at Zurich is still to be seen, together with the original MS. of her Latin letters to the reformer Bullinger, a toilet beautifully ornamented by her own hands, which had been presented by her to her learned correspondent." In the court of Catherine de Medicis Mary Queen of Scots was habituated to the daily practice of needlework, and thus fostered her natural taste for the art which she had acquired in the convent--supposed to have been St. Germaine-en-Laye, where she was placed during the early part of her residence in France. She left this convent with the utmost regret, revisited it whenever she was permitted, and gladly employed her needle in embroidering an altarpiece for its church. This predilection for needlework never forsook her, but proved a beguilement and a solace during the weary years of her subsequent imprisonment, especially after she was separated from the female friends who at first accompanied her. During a part of her confinement, while she was still on comparatively friendly terms with Elizabeth, she transmitted several elegant pieces of her own needlework to this princess. She wrought a canopy, which was placed in the presence-chamber at Whitehall, consisting of an empalement of the arms of France and Scotland, embroidered under an imperial crown. It does not appear at what period of her life she worked it. During the early part of her confinement she was asked how, in unfavourable weather, she passed the time within. She said that all that day she wrought with her needle, and that the diversity of the colours made the work seem less tedious; and she continued so long at it till very pain made her to give over. "Upon this occasion she entered into a pretty disputable comparison between carving, painting, and working with the needle; affirming painting, in her own opinion, for the most commendable quality. No doubt it was during her confinement in England that she worked the bed still preserved at Chatsworth." The following notices from her own letters, though trifling, are interesting memorials of this melancholy part of her life:-- "July 9, 1574.--I pray you send me some pigeons, red partridges, and Barbary fowls. I mean to try to rear them in this country, or keep them in cages: it is an amusement for a prisoner, and I do so with all the little birds I can obtain. "July 18, 1574.--Always bear in mind that my will in all things be strictly followed; and send me, if it be possible, some one with my accounts. He must bring me patterns of dresses and samples of cloths, gold and silver, stuffs and silks, the most costly and new now worn at court. Order for me at Poissy a couple of coifs, with gold and silver crowns, such as they have made for me before. Remind Breton of his promise to send me from Italy the newest kind of head-dress, veils, and ribands, wrought with gold and silver, and I will repay him. "September 22.--Deliver to my uncle the cardinal the two cushions of my work which I send herewith. Should he be gone to Lyons, he will doubtless send me a couple of beautiful little dogs; and you likewise may procure a couple for me; for, except in reading and working, I take pleasure solely in all the little animals I can obtain. You must send them hither very comfortably put up in baskets. "February 12, 1576.--I send the king of France some poodle-dogs (barbets), but can only answer for the beauty of the dogs, as I am not allowed either to hunt or to ride."[130] It is said that one of the articles which in its preparation beguiled her, perchance, of some melancholy thoughts, was a waistcoat which, having richly and beautifully embroidered, she sent to her son; and that this selfish prince was heartless enough to reject the offering because his mother (still surely Queen of Scotland in his eyes) addressed it to him as prince. The poet so often quoted wrote the subjoined sonnet in Queen Elizabeth's praise, whose skill with her needle was remarkable. She was especially an adept in the embroidering with gold and silver, and practised it much in the early part of her life, though perhaps few specimens of her notability now exist:-- "When this great queene, whose memory shall not By any terme of time be overcast; For when the world and all therein shall rot, Yet shall her glorious fame for ever last. When she a maid had many troubles past, From jayle to jayle by Maries angry spleene: And Woodstocke, and the Tower in prison fast, And after all was England's peerelesse queene. Yet howsoever sorrow came or went, She made the needle her companion still, And in that exercise her time she spent, As many living yet doe know her skill. Thus shee was still, a captive, or else crown'd, A needlewoman royall and renown'd." Of Mary II., the wife of the Prince of Orange, Bishop Fowler writes thus:--"What an enemy she was to idleness! even in ladies, those who had the honour to serve her are living instances. It is well known how great a part of the day they were employed at their needles and several ingenuities; the queen herself, when more important business would give her leave, working with them. And, that their minds might be well employed at the same time, it was her custom to order one to read to them, while they were at work, either divinity or some profitable history." And Burnet thus:--"When her eyes were endangered by reading too much, she found out the amusement of work; and in all those hours that were not given to better employment she wrought with her own hands, and that sometimes with so constant a diligence as if she had been to earn her bread by it. It was a new thing, and looked like a sight, to see a queen working so many hours a day." Her taste and industry in embroidery are testified by chairs yet remaining at Hampton Court. The beautiful and unfortunate Marie Antoinette, lively as was her disposition, and fond as she was of gaiety, did not find either the duties or gaieties of a court inconsistent with the labours of the needle. She was extremely fond of needlework, and during her happiest and gayest years was daily to be found at her embroidery-frame. Her approach to this was a signal that other ladies might equally amuse themselves with their various occupations of embroidery, of knitting, or of _untwisting_--the profitable occupation of that day; and which was so fashionable, such a "rage," that the ladies of the court hardly stirred anywhere without two little workbags each--one filled with gold fringes, laces, tassels, or any _golden_ trumpery they could pick up, the other to contain the gold they unravelled, which they sold to Jews. It is said to be a fact that duchesses--nay, princesses--have been known to go about from Jew to Jew in order to obtain the highest price for their gold. Dolls and all sorts of toys were made and covered with gold brocades; and the gentlemen never failed rendering themselves agreeable to their fair acquaintance by presenting them with these toys! Every one knows that the court costume of the French noblemen at that period was most expensive; this absurd custom rendered it doubly, trebly so; and was carried to such an excess, that frequently the moment a gentleman appeared in a new coat the ladies crowded round him and soon divested it of all its gold ornaments. The following is an instance:--"The Duke de Coigny one night appeared in a new and most expensive coat: suddenly a lady in the company remarked that its gold bindings would be excellent for untwisting. In an instant he was surrounded--all the scissors in the room were at work; in short, in a few moments the coat was stripped of its laces, its galoons, its tassels, its fringes; and the poor duke, notwithstanding his vexation, was forced by _politeness_ to laugh and praise the dexterity of the fair hands that robbed him." But what a solace did that passion for needlework, which the queen indulged in herself and encouraged in others, become to her during her fearful captivity. This unhappy princess was born on the day of the Lisbon earthquake, which seemed to stamp a fatal mark on the era of her birth; and many circumstances occurred during her life which have since been considered as portentous. "'Tis certain that the soul hath oft foretaste Of matters which beyond its ken are placed." One circumstance, simple in itself and easily explained, is recorded by Madame Campan as having impressed Marie with shuddering anticipations of evil:-- "One evening, about the latter end of May, she was sitting in the middle of her room, relating several remarkable occurrences of the day. Four wax candles were placed upon her toilet; the first went out of itself--I relighted it; shortly afterwards the second, and then the third, went out also: upon which the queen, squeezing my hand with an emotion of terror, said to me, 'Misfortune has power to make us superstitious; if the fourth taper go out like the first, nothing can prevent my looking upon it as a fatal omen!'--The fourth taper went out." At an earlier period Goëthe seems, with somewhat of a poet's inspiration, to have read a melancholy fate for her. When young he was completing his studies at Strasburg. In an isle in the middle of the Rhine a pavilion had been erected, intended to receive Marie Antoinette and her suite, on her way to the French court. "I was admitted into it," says Goëthe, in his Memoirs: "on my entrance I was struck with the subject depicted in the tapestry with which the principal pavilion was hung, in which were seen Jason, Creusa, and Medea; that is to say, a representation of the most fatal union commemorated in history. On the left of the throne the bride, surrounded by friends and distracted attendants, was struggling with a dreadful death; Jason, on the other side, was starting back, struck with horror at the sight of his murdered children; and the Fury was soaring into the air in her chariot drawn by dragons. Superstition apart, this strange coincidence was really striking. The husband, the bride, and the children, were victims in both cases: the fatal omen seemed accomplished in every point." The following notices of her imprisonment would but be spoiled by any alteration of language. We shall perceive that one of her greatest troubles in prison, before her separation from the king and the dauphin, was the being deprived of her sewing implements. "During the early part of Louis XVI.'s imprisonment, and while the treatment of him and his family was still human, his majesty employed himself in educating his son; while the queen, on her part, educated her daughter. Then they passed some time in needlework, knitting, or tapestry-work. "At this time the royal family were in great want of clothes, insomuch that the princesses were employed in mending them every day; and Madame Elizabeth was often obliged to wait till the king was gone to bed, in order to have his to repair. The linen they brought to the Tower had been lent them by friends, some by the Countess of Sutherland, who found means to convey linen and other things for the use of the dauphin. The queen wished to write a letter to the countess expressive of her thanks, and to return some of these articles, but her majesty was debarred from pen and ink; and the clothes she returned were stolen by her jailors, and never found their way to their right owner. "After many applications a little new linen was obtained; but the sempstress having marked it with crowns, the municipal officers insisted on the princesses picking the marks _out_, and they were forced to obey. "_Dec. 7._--An officer, at the head of a deputation from the commune, came to the king and read a decree, ordering that the persons in confinement should be deprived of all scissors, razors, knives--instruments usually taken from criminals; and that the strictest search should be made for the same, as well on their persons as in their apartments. The king took out of his pocket a knife and a small morocco pocket-book, from which he gave the pen-knife and scissors. The officer searched every corner of the apartments, and carried off the razors, the curling-irons, the powder-scraper, instruments for the teeth, and many articles of gold and silver. They took away from the princesses their knitting-needles and all the little articles they used for their embroidery. The unhappy queen and princesses were the more sensible of the loss of the little instruments taken from them, as they were in consequence forced to give up all the feminine handiworks which till then had served to beguile prison hours. At this time the king's coat became ragged, and as the Princess Elizabeth, his sister, was mending it, as she had no scissors, the king observed that she had to bite off the thread with her teeth--'What a reverse!' said the king, looking tenderly upon her; 'you were in want of nothing at your pretty house at Montreuil.' 'Ah, brother!' she replied, 'can I feel a regret of any kind while I share your misfortunes?'" The Empress Josephine is said to have played and sung with exquisite feeling: her dancing is said to have been perfect. She exercised her pencil, and--though such be not now antiquated for an _élégante_--her needle and embroidery-frame, with beautiful address. Towards the close of her eventful career, when, after her divorce from Bonaparte, she kept a sort of domestic court at Navarre or Malmaison, she and her ladies worked daily at tapestry or embroidery--one reading aloud whilst the others were thus occupied; and the hangings of the saloon at Malmaison were entirely her own work. They must have been elegant; the material was white silk, the embroidery roses, in which at intervals were entwined her own initials. An interesting circumstance is related of a conversation between one of those ministering spirits a _soeur de la charité_ and Josephine, in a time of peculiar excitement and trouble. At the conclusion of it, the _soeur_, having discovered with whom she was conversing, added, "Since I am addressing the mother of the afflicted, I no longer fear my being indiscreet in any demand I may make for suffering humanity. We are in great want of lint; if your majesty would condescend"----"I promise you shall have some; we will make it ourselves." From that moment the evenings were employed at Malmaison in making lint, and the empress yielded to none in activity at this work. Few of my readers will have accompanied me to this point without anticipating the name with which these slight notices of royal needlewomen must conclude--a name which all know, and which, knowing, all reverence as that of a dignified princess, a noble and admirable matron--Adelaide, our Dowager Queen. It was hers to reform the morals of a court which, to our shame, had become licentious; it was hers to render its charmed circle as pure and virtuous as the domestic hearth of the most scrupulous British matron; it was hers to combine with the chilling etiquette of regal state the winning virtues of private life, and to weave a wreath of domestic virtues, social charities, and beguiling though simple occupations, round the stately majesty of England's throne. The days are past when it would be either pleasurable or profitable for the Queen of the British empire to spend her days, like Matilda or Katharine, "in poring over the interminable mazes of tapestry;" but it is well known that Queen Adelaide, and, in consequence of her Majesty's example, those around her, habitually occupied their leisure moments in ornamental needlework; and there have been, of late years, few Bazaars throughout the kingdom, for really beneficent purposes, which have not been enriched by the contributions of the Queen Dowager--contributions ever gladly purchased at a high price, not for their intrinsic worth, but because they had been wrought by a hand which every Englishwoman had learnt to respect and love. FOOTNOTES: [129] This sacred standard was taken by the Saxons in Devonshire, in a fortunate onset, in which they slew one of the Sea-kings with eight hundred of his followers. So superstitious a reverence was attached to this ensign that its loss is said to have broken the spirit of even these ruthless plunderers. It was woven by the sisters of Inguar and Ubba, who divined by it. If the Raven (which was worked on it) moved briskly in the wind, it was a sign of victory, but if it drooped and hung heavily, it was supposed to prognosticate discomfiture. [130] Von Raumer's Contributions. CHAPTER XXV. ON MODERN NEEDLEWORK. "Our Country everywhere is fild With Ladies, and with Gentlewomen, skild In this rare Art." Taylor. "For here the needle plies its busy task, The pattern grows, the well-depicted flower Wrought patiently into the snowy lawn, Unfolds its bosom; buds, and leaves, and sprigs, And curling tendrils gracefully dispos'd, Follow the nimble fingers of the fair; A wreath that cannot fade." Cowper. "The great variety of needleworks which the ingenious women of other countries, as well as of our own, have invented, will furnish us with constant and amusing employment; and though our labours may not equal a Mineron's or an Aylesbury's, yet, if they unbend the mind, by fixing its attention on the progress of any elegant or imitative art, they answer the purpose of domestic amusement; and, when the higher duties of our station do not call forth our exertions, we may feel the satisfaction of knowing that we are, at least, innocently employed."--Mrs. Griffiths. The triumph of modern art in needlework is probably within our own shores, achieved by our own countrywoman,--Miss Linwood. "Miss Linwood's Exhibition" used to be one of the lions of London, and fully deserves to be so now. To women it must always be an interesting sight; and the "nobler gender" cannot but consider it as a curious one, and not unworthy even of their notice as an achievement of art. Many of these pictures are most beautiful; and it is not without great difficulty that you can assure yourself that they are _bonâ fide_ needlework. Full demonstration, however, is given you by the facility of close approach to some of the pieces. Perhaps the most beautiful of the whole collection--a collection consisting of nearly a hundred pieces of all sizes--is the picture of Miss Linwood herself, copied from a painting by Russell, taken in about her nineteenth year. She must have been a beautiful creature; and as to this copy being done with a needle and worsted,--nobody would suppose such a thing. It is a perfect painting. In the catalogue which accompanies these works she refers to her own portrait with the somewhat touching expression, (from Shakspeare,) "Have I lived thus long----" This lady is now in her eighty-fifth year. Her life has been devoted to the pursuit of which she has given so many beautiful testimonies. She had wrought two or three pieces before she reached her twentieth year; and her last piece, "The Judgment of Cain," which occupied her ten years, was finished in her seventy-fifth year; since when, the failure of her eyesight has put an end to her labours. The pieces are worked not on canvas, nor, we are told, on linen, but on some peculiar fabric made purposely for her. Her worsteds have all been dyed under her own superintendence, and it is said the only relief she has ever had in the manual labour was in having an assistant to thread her needles. Some of the pieces after Gainsborough are admirable; but perhaps Miss Linwood will consider her greatest triumph to be in her copy of Carlo Dolci's "Salvator Mundi," for which she has been offered, and has refused, three thousand guineas. The style of modern embroidery, now so fashionable, from the Berlin patterns, dates from the commencement of the present century. About the year 1804-5, a print-seller in Berlin, named Philipson, published the first coloured design, on checked paper, for needlework. In 1810, Madame Wittich, who, being a very accomplished embroideress, perceived the great extension of which this branch of trade was capable, induced her husband, a book and print-seller of Berlin, to engage in it with spirit. From that period the trade has gone on rapidly increasing, though within the last six years the progression has been infinitely more rapid than it had previously been, owing to the number of new publishers who have engaged in the trade. By leading houses up to the commencement of the year 1840, there have been no less than fourteen thousand copper-plate designs published. In the scale of consumption, and, consequently, by a fair inference in the quantity of needlework done, Germany stands first; then Russia, England, France, America, Sweden, Denmark, Holland, &c., the three first names on the list being by far the largest consumers. It is difficult to state with precision the number of persons employed to _colour_ these plates, but a principal manufacturer estimates them as upwards of twelve hundred, chiefly women. At first these patterns were chiefly copied in silk, then in beads, and lastly in dyed wools; the latter more especially, since the Germans have themselves succeeded in producing those beautiful "Zephyr" yarns known in this country as the "Berlin wools." These yarns, however, are only dyed in Berlin, being manufactured at Gotha. It is not many years since the Germans drew all their fine woollen yarns from this country: now they are the _exporters_, and probably will so remain, whatever be the _quality_ of the wool produced in England, until the art of _dyeing_ be as well understood and as scientifically practised. Of the fourteen thousand Berlin patterns which have been published, scarcely one-half are moderately good; and all the best which they have produced latterly are copied from English and French prints. Contemplating the improvement that will probably ere long take place in these patterns, needlework may be said to be yet in its infancy. The improvement, however, must not be confined to the Berlin designers: the taste of the consumer, the public taste must also advance before needlework shall assume that approximation to art which is so desirable, and not perhaps now, with modern facilities, difficult of attainment. Hitherto the chief anxiety seems to have been to produce a glare of colour rather than that subdued but beautiful effect which makes of every piece issuing from the Gobelins a perfect picture, wrought by different means, it is true, but with the very same materials. The Berlin publishers cannot be made to understand this; for, when they have a good design to copy from, they mar all by the introduction of some adventitious frippery, as in the "Bolton Abbey," where the repose and beautiful effect of the picture is destroyed by the introduction of a bright sky, and straggling bushes of lively green, just where the Artist had thought it necessary to depict the stillness of the inner court of the Monastery, with its solemn grey walls, as a relief to the figures in the foreground. Many ladies of rank in Germany add to their pin-money by executing needlework for the warehouses. France consumes comparatively but few Berlin patterns. The French ladies persevere in the practice of working on drawings previously traced on the canvas: the consequence is that, notwithstanding their general skill and assiduity, good work is often wasted on that which cannot produce an artist-like effect. They are, however, by far the best embroideresses in chenille,--silk and gold. By embroidery we mean that which is done on a solid ground, as silk or cloth. The tapestry or canvas-work is now thoroughly understood in this country; and by the help of the Berlin patterns more _good_ things are produced here as articles of furniture than in France. The present mode of furnishing houses is favourable to needlework. At a time when fashion enacted that all the sofas and chairs of an apartment should match, the completely furnishing it with needlework (as so many in France have been) was the constant occupation of a whole family--mother, daughters, cousins, and servants--for years, and must indeed have been completely wearisome; but a cushion, a screen, or an odd chair, is soon accomplished, and at once takes its place among the many odd-shaped articles of furniture which are now found in a fashionable saloon. Francfort-on-the-Maine is much busying itself just now with needlework. The commenced works imported from this city are made up partly from Berlin patterns, and partly from fanciful combinations; but although generally speaking _well worked_, they are too complicated to be easy of execution, and very few indeed of those brought to this country are ever _finished_ by the purchaser. The history of the progress of the modern tapestry-needlework in this country is brief. Until the year 1831, the Berlin patterns were known to very few persons, and used by fewer persons still. They had for some time been imported by Ackermann and some others, but in very small numbers indeed. In the year 1831, they, for the first time, fell under the notice of Mr. Wilks, Regent-street, (to whose kindness I am indebted for the valuable information on the Berlin patterns given above,) and he immediately purchased all the good designs he could procure, and also made large purchases both of patterns and working materials direct from Berlin, and thus laid the foundation of the trade in England. He also imported from Paris a large selection of their best examples in tapestry, and also an assortment of silks of those exquisite tints which, as yet, France only can produce; and by inducing French artists, educated for this peculiar branch of design, to accompany him to England, he succeeded in establishing in England this elegant art. This fashionable tapestry-work, certainly the most useful kind of ornamental needlework, seems quite to have usurped the place of the various other embroideries which have from time to time engrossed the leisure moments of the fair. It may be called mechanical, and so in a degree it certainly is; but there is infinitely more scope for fancy, taste, and even genius here, than in any other of the large family of "satin sketches" and embroideries. Yes, there is certainly room in worsted work for genius to exert itself--the genius of a painter--in the selection, arrangement, and combination of colours, of light and shade, &c.; we do not mean in glaring arabesques, but in the landscape and the portrait. There is an instance given by Pennant,[131] where the skill and taste of the needlewoman imparted a grace to her picture which was wanting in the original. "In one of the apartments of the palace (Lambeth) is a performance that does great honour to the ingenious wife of a modern dignitary--a copy in needlework of a Madonna and Child, after a most capital performance of the Spanish Murillo. There is most admirable grace in the original, which was sold last winter at the price of 800 guineas. It made me lament that this excellent master had wasted so much time on beggars and ragged boys. Beautiful as it is, the copy came improved out of the hand of our skilful countrywoman: a judicious change of colour of part of the drapery has had a most happy effect, and given new excellence to the admired original." Whilst recording the triumphs of modern needlework, we must not omit to mention a school for the education of the daughters of clergy and decayed tradesmen, in which the art of silk-embroidery was particularly cultivated. This school was under the especial patronage of Queen Charlotte; and a bed of lilac satin, which was there embroidered for her, is now exhibited at Hampton Court, and is really magnificent. Could we now take a more extended view of modern needlework, how wide the range to which we might refer,--from the jewelled and golden-wrought slippers of the East to the grass-embroidered mocassins of the West; from the gorgeous and glittering raiment of the courtly Persian, the voluptuous Turk, or the luxurious Indian, to the simple, unattractive, yet exquisitely wrought garment made by the Californian from the entrails of the whale: a range wide as the Antipodes asunder in every point except one! that is--the equal though very differently displayed skill, ingenuity, and industry of the needlewoman in almost every corner of the hearth from the burning equator to the freezing Pole. This we must now pass. Finally,--feeling as we do that though ornamental needlework may be a charming occupation for those ladies whose happy lot relieves them from the necessity of "darning hose" and "mending nightcaps," yet that a proficiency in plain sewing is the very life and being of the comfort and respectability of the poor man's wife,--we cannot close this book without one earnest remark on the systems of teaching needlework now in use in the Central, National, and other schools for the instruction of the poor. There, now, the art is reduced to regular rule, taught by regular system; and there are books of instruction in cutting, in shaping, in measuring,--one for the (late) Model School in Dublin, and another, somewhat similar, for that in the Sanctuary, Westminster, which would be a most valuable acquisition to the work table of many a needle-loving and industrious lady of the most respectable middle classes of society. Any of our readers who have been accustomed, as we have, to see the domestic hearths and homes of those who, brought up from infancy in factories, have married young, borne large families, and perhaps descended to the grave without ever having learned how to make a petticoat for themselves, or even a cap for their children,--any who know the reality of this picture, and have seen the misery consequent on it, will join us cordially in expressing the earnest and heartfelt hope that the extension of mental tuition amongst the lower classes may not supersede, in the smallest iota, that instruction and PRACTICE in sewing which next, the very next, to the knowledge of their catechism, is of vital importance to the future well-doing of girls in the lower stations of life.[132] * * * * * And now my task is finished; and to you, my kind readers, who have had the courtesy to accompany me thus far, I would fain offer a few words of thanks, of farewell, and, if need be, of apology. This is, I believe, the first history of needlework ever published. I have met with no other; I have heard of no other; and I have experienced no trifling difficulties in obtaining material for this. I have spared no labour, no exertions, no research. I have toiled through many hundreds of volumes for the chance of finding even a line adaptable to my purpose: sometimes I have met with this trifling success, oftener not. I do not mention these circumstances with any view to exaggerate my own exertions, but merely to convince those ladies, who having read the book, may feel dissatisfied with the amount of information contained therein, that really no superabundance of material exists. The subject has in all ages been deemed too trifling to obtain more than a passing notice from the historical pen. To myself, my exertions have brought their own "exceeding rich reward;" for if perchance they were at times productive of fatigue, they yet have winged the flight of many lonely hours which might otherwise have induced weariness or even despondency in their lagging transit. To you, my countrywomen, I offer the book, not as what it _might_ be, but as the best which, under all circumstances, I could now produce. The triumphant general is oftentimes deeply indebted for success to the humble but industrious pioneer; and those who may hereafter pursue this subject with loftier aims, with more abundant leisure and greater facilities of research, may not disdain to tread the path which I have indicated. I offer to you my book in the hope that it will cause amusement to some, gratification perhaps of a higher order to others, and offence--as I trust and believe--to none. FOOTNOTES: [131] Some account of London.--1793. [132] It cannot be too generally known that within late years schools have been attached to the factories, where, for a fixed and certain proportion of their time, girls are instructed in sewing and reading. THE END. London: Printed by W. Clowes and Sons, Stamford Street. Transcriber's Note Archaic and variable spelling is preserved as printed. Minor punctuation errors have been repaired. Hyphenation and use of accents have been made consistent in the main text where there was a prevalence of one form over another. However, inconsistencies are preserved as printed where material originates from different authors. The title page contains the word 'needle-work.' The author's text, and a repeat of the title, uses 'needlework'. This has been preserved as printed. The following items were found: Page viii--the page number for the chapter titled "The Needle" was omitted from the table of contents. Reference to the text shows it to be page 252, and this has been added in the appropriate place. Page 93--there is some obscured text at the end of the page. Given the context and the amount of space, it seems reasonable to assume that the missing words are 'he is' and these have been added in this etext. Page 123, third footnote--mentions the word Alner, but doesn't define it. "An Illustrated Dictionary of Words Used in Art and Archaeology" by J. W. Mollett defines it as: "Aulmonière. The Norman name for the pouch, bag, or purse appended to the girdle of noble persons, and derived from the same root as 'alms' and 'almoner'. It was more or less ornamented and hung from long laces of silk or gold; it was sometimes called Alner." The transcriber has added 'pouch, bag or purse' as a definition. Page 129--There is an obscured word in the line, "With steven f-ll- stoute". Comparison with other sources of the same verse show the word to be fulle, which has been used in this etext. Page 175--the footnote marker in the text was missing. The transcriber has checked the referenced text, and inserted a marker in what appears to be the correct place. Page 257--the speaker of the line "Her neele" was obscured. It appears that the speaker should be Tib, and this has been inserted. The following amendments have been made: Page 2--certain amended to certains and meurissent amended to mûrissent--"... et comme on voit à certains arbres des fruits qui ne mûrissent jamais; ..." Page 27--footsep amended to footstep--"Each accidental passer hushed his footstep ..." Page 42--le amended to la--"Suivant la différence des états, elles apprennent à lire, ..." Page 42--elle amended to elles--"... mais elles insistent beaucoup plus sur la nécessité ..." Page 83--supurb amended to superb--"... seated on a superb throne, and crowned with the papal tiara." Page 99, footnote--lvo. amended to vol.--"Archæologia, vol. xix." Page 119--manngement amended to management--"... for on her wise and prudent management depended not merely the comfort, ..." Page 134--macheloires amended to machoires--"... car si tant ne fait que j'aye la barbe & les dents machoires sans aucune tromperie ne mensonge, ..." Page 155--sixteeenth amended to sixteenth--"In the sixteenth century[79] a sort of hanging was introduced, ..." Page 175--repeated 'to' deleted--"So she went to bed, and in the morning she was found stone dead." Page 175--renowed amended to renowned--"Help me, shades of renowned slaughterers, whilst I record his achievements!" Page 184--Frence amended to French--"At Durham Place were the Citie of Ladies (a French allegorical Romance); ..." Page 199--Britions amended to Britons--"... and, as supposed, of the ancient Britons." Page 200--eylet-holes amended to eyelet-holes--"... full of small eyelet-holes, as thickly as they could be put, ..." Page 207--His amended to Hir--"Hir hat suld be of fair having ..." Page 213--meurs amended to moeurs--"... nous n'aurions que le mépris qu'on a pour les gens sans moeurs, ..." Page 214--magnificience amended to magnificence--"... lasting for thrift; and rich for magnificence." Page 216--marshelling amended to marshalling--"... using more time in dressing than Cæsar took in marshalling his army, ..." Page 229--Permittez amended to Permettez--"Permettez que je vous fasse l'observation, ..." Page 234--bouyant amended to buoyant--"... so much was it elevated then by buoyant good humour ..." Page 242--wtth amended to with--"... mingled with mule drivers, lacqueys, and peasants, ..." Page 254--chandellier amended to chandelier--"... de brodeur, de tapissier, de chandelier, d'emballeur; ..." Page 261--finalment amended to finalmente--"... et finalmente far tutte quelle gentillezze et lodevili opere, ..." Page 262--repeated 'of' deleted--"It is dedicated to the Queen of France, ..." Page 264--Damoiselles amended to Damoyselles--"Aux Dames et Damoyselles." Page 266--Baccus amended to Bacchus--"Ce Bacchus representant l'Autonne." Page 267--delli amended to delle--"Corona delle Nobili et virtuose Donne, ..." Page 267--Mayzette amended to Mazzette--"E molto delle quali Mostre possono servire ancora per opere a Mazzette." Page 269--logg amended to long--"So long as hemp of flax, or sheep shall bear ..." Page 273, footnote--al amended to ad--"... e per far disegni ad altrui o dar gl'indirizzo ..." Page 273, footnote--della dita amended to delle dita--"... degli narici, della bocca, delle dita corrispondono a' primi moti d'ogni passione; ..." Page 273, footnote--del amended to dal--"... e ciò ch'è più, essi variano in cento modi senza uscir mai dal naturale, ..." Page 273, footnote--ridusce amended to ridusse--"... tutte comprese con la divinità del suo ingegno, tutto ridusse più bello." Page 276--privat eapartments amended to private apartments--"These are preserved in one of the private apartments of the Vatican palace." Page 307--Closely amended to closely--"... the Spanish Armada up the channel, closely followed by the English, ..." Page 331--morte amended to mort--"Prise dans la tente de Charles le Téméraire, lors de la mort de ce prince, ..." Page 332--intérressant amended to intéressant--"... plus intéressant pour les arts, et plus digne d'être reproduit par la gravure." Page 334--destinée amended to destiné--"Robert fut destiné de bonne heure aux fonctions du sacerdoce." Page 335--jusque-là converts amended to jusqu'à-là couverts--"... il planta la croix du Sauveur dans les lieux jusqu'à-là couverts de forêts et de bruyères incultes, ..." Page 336--émaillées amended to émaillés, and ruisselantes amended to ruisselants--"... les colonnettes sont émaillés, ruisselants de milliers de pierres fines et de perles, ..." Page 363--libaries amended to libraries--"... and the principal public libraries in England." Page 369--illuminaitng amended to illuminating--"When the art of illuminating still more failed, ..." Page 398--scarely amended to scarcely--"... scarcely one-half are moderately good; ..." 
57518	----	+-------------------------------------------+ | Note: | | | | _ around word indicated italics _in._ | | | +-------------------------------------------+ [Illustration] CATALOGUE OF THE RETROSPECTIVE LOAN EXHIBITION OF EUROPEAN TAPESTRIES HELD IN THE SAN FRANCISCO MUSEUM OF ART MCMXXII EUROPEAN TAPESTRIES SAN FRANCISCO MUSEUM OF ART CATALOGUE OF THE RETROSPECTIVE LOAN EXHIBITION OF EUROPEAN TAPESTRIES BY PHYLLIS ACKERMAN M.A.; PH.D. WITH A PREFACE BY J. NILSEN LAURVIK DIRECTOR SAN FRANCISCO PUBLISHED BY THE MUSEUM MCMXXII _Published September 29, 1922, in an edition of 2000 copies. Copyright, 1922, by San Francisco Museum of Art. Reprinted November 15, 1922, 500 copies._ _Printed by_ TAYLOR & TAYLOR, _San Francisco. In the making of the type-design for the cover, the printer has introduced an illuminated fifteenth-century woodcut by an unknown master. Its original appears, illuminated as shown, in "L'Istoire de la Destruction de Troye la Grant," a book printed at Paris, dated May 12, 1484, of which only a single copy is known to exist, that in the Royal Library at Dresden, this reproduction having been made from the excellent facsimile of the block shown in Claudin's "Histoire de l'Imprimerie en France." The border-design of the cover is composed of the names of the chief tapestry-producing cities in Europe during the Gothic and Renaissance periods._ _Halftones made by Commercial Art Company, San Francisco._ PREFACE This historical exhibition of European Tapestries is the fourth in a series of retrospective exhibitions which we have planned to illustrate the chronological development of some important phase of world-art, as in the Old Masters Exhibition, held in the fall of 1920, or of the art of an individual in whose work is significantly reflected the spirit of his age, as in the J. Pierpont Morgan Collection of drawings and etchings by Rembrandt, exhibited here in the spring of 1920. In its scope and general lines this exhibition follows closely the plan of our Exhibition of Paintings by Old Masters, and, as will at once be apparent from the subject-matter and treatment, covers the same period of European history. Although important exhibitions of European tapestries have been held at various times both here and abroad, it has remained for our museum to arrange the first complete historical survey of this art given in America. This collection presents in unbroken sequence the main currents influential in the development and decadence of the great art of tapestry-weaving in Europe, from the XIVth century down to and including the early XIXth century, as exhibited in the work of the foremost designers and weavers of the period, in examples that, for the most part, are brilliantly typical and always characteristic of their particular style. Virtually, every loom of importance in France, Flanders, Germany, Switzerland, Spain, England, and Russia is here represented by historically famous pieces which run the entire gamut of subjects that engaged the interest of the most celebrated designers and weavers of each epoch, from allegorical, classical, historical, and mythological to genre subjects, landscapes, religious pieces, and even portraits and still-life subjects. The only omissions of any consequence are the Italian looms and Soho, and the output of these was relatively small and the examples extant are very scarce. However, their absence does not materially affect the historical integrity of the exhibition as a whole. On the other hand, the Gothic series is perhaps the most complete assemblage of all the most important types ever brought together at one time in this country, and every important type of Renaissance design is here included; the collection comprises two of the excessively rare products of the Fontainebleau ateliers, as well as unusually fine specimens of the relatively scarce examples of the Spanish and Russian looms. My chief concern in organizing this exhibition has been to make it exemplify, first, the history of tapestry, and, second, its æsthetic qualities as these have appeared during the different periods of its changing and varying development, which, like the art of painting, had its naïve, primitive beginnings, its glorious culmination, and its decline. Therefore, every piece has been selected both to represent a distinct and significant type in the chronology of the art and to illustrate the artistic merits of that type, and all the tapestries shown are of the highest worth in their particular category and many of them are among the supreme masterpieces of European art, considered from whatever point of view one may choose to regard them. Only too long have these noble products of the loom been relegated to a secondary place in the history of European culture, which they did so much to celebrate. I sincerely trust that this exhibition, culled from seventeen collections in New York, San Francisco, and Paris, may successfully contribute something toward abolishing the hypnotic spell of the gold-framed oil-painting, that artistic fetish which too long has held the uncritical enthralled to the exclusion of other and ofttimes more authentic manifestations of the human spirit in art. Regarded from the standpoint of design alone, the extraordinary co-ordination of color and pattern (not to speak of the depth and richness of the inner content) exhibited in certain of these pieces is a sharp challenge to the oft-repeated distinction drawn between the major and the minor arts, and one is constrained, after studying these tapestries, to conclude that there are no major or minor arts, only major and minor artists, and that greatness transfigures the material to the point of art, be it paint or potter's clay, and a simple Tanagra transcends in worth all the gilded and bejeweled banalities of Cellini, whose essentially flamboyant soul sought refuge in gold and precious stones. This truth, too rarely insisted upon, is of prime importance in any consideration of art, whether it be "fine" or applied art, and a collection such as this should do much to make it clear. Here one may observe how the principles of design and color that animate the immortal masterpieces of mural painting are identical with those that give life and vitality to these masterpieces of the loom, and thereby apprehend something of that mysterious law governing the operation of the creative impulse which finds its expression in all the arts, irrespective of time and place, whether it be in rugs, porcelains, Persian tiles and manuscripts, in European primitives, or in the works of Chinese and Japanese old masters, transcending racial differences and attaining a universal affinity that makes a Holbein one with a Chinese ancestral portrait. Surely such opulent fantasy of design and color as is revealed in Nos. 1, 3, 5, and 17, to mention only four of the Gothic pieces in the collection, is deserving of something better than the left-handed compliment of a comparison with painting. In their masterly filling of the allotted space, in the fine subordination of the varied details to the general effect, as well as in the loftiness and intensity of the emotion expressed, these glorious products of the loom are worthy exemplars of the highest ideals of mural decoration no less than of the aristocratic art of tapestry-weaving. Reflections such as these are the natural consequence of a comparative study of art, and these and kindred reasons are the impelling causes prompting one to exhibit, not only tapestries, but rugs and textiles of all kinds, in an art museum and to give them the same serious study one would accord a Leonardo, a Giotto, a Rembrandt. Æsthetically and racially, they are no less revealing and frequently more interesting in that they are the products of the earliest expressions of those æsthetic impulses the manifestation of which has come to be called art; nor are they less authentic and expressive because communicated with the force and directness of the primitive loom, which give to all its products a certain character and worth rarely equaled by the more sophisticated products of the so-called fine arts. It is our hope that this catalogue will serve as a helpful guide to all those wishing to make such use of this collection. Every serious student of the subject no less than every unbiased specialist will, I am sure, appreciate at its true worth the scholarly work done by Dr. Ackerman, whose researches have made such a text possible. Bringing to the task a critical judgment and a scientific method of analysis hitherto applied almost exclusively to the identification and interpretation of primitive paintings, the author has been able to correct several well-established errors and to throw new light on many doubtful and obscure points which are so well documented as should make them contributions of permanent value to the literature of the subject. In conclusion we wish to thank Messrs. William Baumgarten & Company, C. Templeton Crocker, Demotte, Duveen Brothers, P. W. French & Company, A. J. Halow, Jacques Seligmann & Company, Dikran K. Kelekian, Frank Partridge, Inc., W. & J. Sloane, William C. Van Antwerp, Wildenstein & Company, and Mesdames James Creelman, William H. Crocker, Daniel C. Jackling, and Maison Jamarin of Paris, for their kindness in lending us these priceless examples of the European weavers' art that constitute this notable assemblage of tapestries, and to record our deep appreciation of the generous co-operation of the patrons and patronesses whose sponsorship has made the exhibition possible by guaranteeing the very considerable expense involved in bringing the collection to San Francisco. And last, but not least, we wish to express our grateful appreciation of the unremitting thought and attention devoted by the printer to designing and executing the very fitting typographical form that contributes so largely to making the varied material contained herein readily available to the reader, and to acknowledge, on behalf of the author, the friendly help of Arthur Upham Pope, whose suggestions and criticisms have been found of real value in the preparation of the text of the catalogue. J. NILSEN LAURVIK, Director San Francisco, September 29, 1922. * * * * * _The patrons and patronesses of the Exhibition are: Messrs. William C. Van Antwerp, Edwin Raymond Armsby, Leon Bocqueraz, Francis Carolan, C. Templeton Crocker, Sidney M. Ehrman, William L. Gerstle, Joseph D. Grant, Walter S. Martin, James D. Phelan, George A. Pope, Laurance Irving Scott, Paul Verdier, John I. Walter, Michel D. Weill, and Mesdames A. S. Baldwin, C. Templeton Crocker, Henry J. Crocker, William H. Crocker, Marcus Koshland, Eleanor Martin, George A. Pope, and Misses Helen Cowell and Isabel Cowell, and The Emporium._ THE SAN FRANCISCO MUSEUM OF ART BOARD OF TRUSTEES WILLIAM C. VAN ANTWERP, EDWIN RAYMOND ARMSBY ARTHUR BROWN, JR., FRANCIS CAROLAN, CHARLES W. CLARK CHARLES TEMPLETON CROCKER WILLIAM H. CROCKER, JOHN S. DRUM, SIDNEY M. EHRMAN JOSEPH D. GRANT, DANIEL C. JACKLING WALTER S. MARTIN, JAMES D. PHELAN, GEORGE A. POPE LAURANCE I. SCOTT, RICHARD M. TOBIN JOHN I. WALTER DIRECTOR J. NILSEN LAURVIK THE MUSEUM IS HOUSED IN THE PALACE OF FINE ARTS ERECTED BY THE PANAMA-PACIFIC INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION IN 1915 CONTENTS _For a detailed list of the tapestries catalogued herein see the subject and title index at the end of the volume_ [Illustration] PREFACE Page 5 INTRODUCTION 11 CATALOGUE 25 LIST OF WEAVERS 58 BIBLIOGRAPHY 59 SUBJECT AND TITLE INDEX 61 ILLUSTRATIONS MAP Facing Page 16 _Showing the principal centers of production of Gothic and early Renaissance tapestries_ TAPESTRIES _The Annunciation_ Facing Page 24 _The Chase_ 25 _The Annunciation, the Nativity, and the Announcement to the Shepherds_ 26 _Scenes from the Roman de la Rose_ 27 _The Vintage_ 30 _Entombment on Millefleurs_ 31 _Millefleurs with Shepherds and the Shield of the Rigaut Family_ 32 _Pastoral Scene_ 33 _The Creation of the World_ 34 _Four Scenes from the Life of Christ_ Facing Page 35 _The Triumph of David_ 38 _Two Pairs of Lovers_ 39 _Hannibal Approaches Scipio to Sue for Peace_ 40 _Cyrus Captures Astyages, His Grandfather_ 41 _The Crucifixion_ 42 _Grotesques_ 43 _Triumph of Diana_ 46 _The Niobides_ 47 _Scene from the History of Cleopatra_ 48 _Verdure_ 49 _Verdure with Dancing Nymphs_ 50 _The Conquest of Louis the Great_ 51 _The Poisoning of a Spy_ 54 _The Arms of France and Navarre_ 55 INTRODUCTION AN HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL SURVEY OF THE ART OF TAPESTRY WEAVING [Illustration] Tapestry is a compound art. It stands at the meeting-point of three other arts, and so is beset by the problems of all three. In the first place, it is illustrative, for while there are tapestries that show only a sprinkling of flowers, a conventionalized landscape, or an armorial shield, the finest and most typical pieces are those with _personnages_ that represent some episode from history, myth, or romance, or give a glimpse of the current usages of daily life. In the second place, tapestry is a mural decoration. It is part of the architectural setting of the rooms, really one with the wall. And, in the third place, it is a woven material--a solid fabric of wool or silk in the simplest of all techniques. Since a tapestry is an illustration, it must be realistic and convincing, accurate in details and clearly indicative of the story. Because it is also a wall decoration, it cannot be too realistic, but must be structural in feeling and design, and the details must fall into broad masses that carry a strong effect from a distance. And since it is a woven material, even if it be structural, it must be flexible, and must have a fullness of ornament that will enrich the whole surface so that none of it will fall to the level of mere cloth. But if the tapestry designer have a difficult problem in resolving these conflicting demands of the different aspects of his art, he has also wider opportunities to realize within those limitations. As an illustration, if he handle it with skill, he can make the design convey all the fascination of romance and narrative. As a mural decoration his design can attain a dignity and noble reserve denied to smaller illustrations, splendid in itself, and valuable for counterbalancing the disproportionate literary interest that the subject sometimes arouses. And the thick material, with its soft, uneven surface, lends, even to a trivial design, a richness and mellowness that the painter can achieve only in the greatest moments of his work. The designer of tapestry can steer his way among the difficulties of the three phases of his art, and win the advantages of them all only if he have a fine and sensitive feeling for the qualities that he must seek. A realism flattened to the requirement of mural decoration and formalized to the needs of the technique of weaving, that still retains the informality and charm of the illustration, can best be won by considering the design as a pattern of silhouettes; for a silhouette is flat, and so does not violate the structural flatness of the wall by bulging out in high modeling. Moreover, it does give a broad, strong effect that can carry across a large room. And, finally, it permits both of adaptation in attitude and gesture to the needs of the story and of easy-flowing lines that can reshape themselves to the changing folds of a textile. So, to make good silhouettes, the figures in a good tapestry design will be arranged in the widest, largest planes possible, as they are in a fine Greek relief, and they will be outlined with clear, decisive, continuous lines, definitive of character, expressive and vivacious. The strength and vivacity of the outline is of prime significance in tapestry design, even though in its final effect it appears not primarily as a linear art, but rather as a color art. The outlines have to be both clearly drawn in the cartoon and forcefully presented in the weave; for they bear the burden both of the illustrative expressiveness and of the decorative definition. If they are weakened in delineation or submerged by the glow of the colors, the tapestry becomes confused in import, weak in emphasis, and blurred in all its relations, while the charm and interest of detail is quite lost. The too heavy lines of some of the primitive tapestries are less a defect than the too delicate lines of the later pieces designed by those who were primarily painters, and which were too much adapted to the painting technique. The outlines in the best tapestries are not only indicated with a good deal of force, but these lines themselves have unflagging energy, unambiguous direction, diversified movement, and unfaltering control. In order to complete and establish the silhouette effect, the color in the best tapestries is laid on in broad flat areas, each containing only a limited number of tones. A gradual transition of tone through many shades is undesirable, because such modulations convey an impression of relief modeling, which is inappropriate and superfluous in an art of silhouette. Then, again, these gradations at a little distance tend to fuse, and thus somewhat blur the force and purity of the color; and, finally, a considerable number of color transitions are ill-adapted to the character of a textile, as they tend to make it appear too much like painting. Nor are fluctuating tones and minute value-gradations necessary for a soft and varied effect. The very quality of tapestry material accomplishes that--first, because the ribbed surface breaks up the flatness of any color area and gives it shimmering variations of light and shade, and, second, because the wide folds natural to the material throw the flat tones now into dark and now into light, thus by direct light and shade differentiating values that in the dyes themselves are identical. Color in tapestry can thus be used in purer, more saturated masses than in any form of painting, not excepting even the greatest murals. Flat silhouetted figures cannot of course be set in a three-dimensional world. They would not fit. So the landscape, too, must be flattened out into artificially simplified stages. This is also necessary both for the architectural and the decorative effect of tapestry, for otherwise the remote vistas tend to give the effect of holes in the wall, and the distance, dimmed by atmosphere, is too pallid and empty to be interesting as textile design. Yet the fact of perspective cannot be altogether denied. Often the designer can avoid or limit the problem by cutting off the farther views with a close screen of trees and buildings, and this has also the advantage of giving a strong backdrop against which the figures stand out firm and clear. But there are occasions in which a wider field is essential for the purposes of illustration. The problem is how to show a stretch of country and still keep it flat and full of detail. In the most skillful periods of tapestry design the difficulty was met by reducing the perspective to three or four sharply stepped levels of distance, laid one above the other in informal horizontal strips. Aerial perspective was disregarded, each strip being filled with details, all sharply drawn but diminishing in size. The scene was thus kept relatively flat, was adapted to flat figures, and was also filled with interesting details. This fullness of detail is important in tapestries and is the source of much of their richness and charm. The great periods of weaving made lavish use of an amazing variety of incidents and effects: the pattern of a gown, jewels, the chasing or relief on a piece of armor, bits of decorative architecture, carved furniture, and the numerous household utensils, quaint in shape or suddenly vivid in color--all these, with the innumerable flowers, the veritable menagerie of beasts, real and imaginary, gayly patterned birds, as well as rivers, groves, and mountains, make up the properties with which the designer fills his spaces and creates a composition of inexhaustible resource and delight. So with flat figures, strong outlines, deep, pure, and simple colors, a flattened setting, and a wealth of details, the artist can make a tapestry that will be at the same time both a representative and an expressive illustration, an architectural wall decoration, and a sumptuous piece of material. But even then he has not solved every difficulty; for the tapestry cannot be merely beautiful in itself. It has to serve as a background for a room and for the lives lived in it; so it must be consonant in color and line quality with the furniture current at the time it is made, and it must meet the prevailing interests of the people. Moreover, while it must be rich enough to absorb the loitering attention, it must also have sufficient repose and reserve and aloofness not to intrude unbidden into the eye and not to be too wearyingly exciting--and this last was sometimes no easy problem to solve when the designer was bidden to illustrate a rapidly moving and dramatic tale. Sometimes, in truth, he did not solve it, but sometimes he employed with subtle skill the device of so dispersing his major points of action that until they are examined carefully they merge into a general mass effect. While the designers have at different periods met these various problems in different ways and with varying skill, the technique of the weaving has never been modified to any extent. For centuries this simple kind of weaving has been done. In essentials it is the same as that used in the most primitive kind of cloth manufacture. The warps are stretched on a frame that may rest horizontally or stand upright. The shuttle full of thread of the desired color is passed over and under the alternate warps, the return reversing the order, now under the warps where it was before over, and over where it was under. A comb is used to push the wefts thus woven close together so that they entirely cover the warps. In the finished tapestry the warps run horizontally across the design. A change of colors in the weft-threads creates the pattern. In the more complex patterns of later works the weaver follows the design drawn in outline on his warps, or sometimes, in the horizontal looms, follows the pattern drawn on a paper laid under his warps so that he looks down through them. His color cues he takes from the fully painted cartoon suspended somewhere near in easy view. Occasionally, in later pieces, to enrich the effect, the simple tapestry weave is supplemented with another technique, such as brocading (cf. No. 52), but this is rare. All the earliest examples left to us of this kind of weaving are akin to tapestry as we usually know it only in technique. They have practically no bearing on the development of its design. Of the very earliest we have no evidence left by which to judge. Homer, the Bible, and a number of Latin authors all mention textiles that probably could be classed as tapestries; but the references are too general to give us any definite clue as to the treatment of the design. But from the VIth to the VIIIth century, the Copts in Egypt produced many pieces, showing, usually in very small scale, birds and animals and foliage, and even groups of people. Of these we have many samples left. From various parts of Europe, primarily from Germany, in the next two centuries we have a few famous examples. But these are almost wholly without significant relation to the central development of tapestry design. Tapestry, in our sense of the word, begins, as far as extant examples are concerned, with the XIVth century. From the XIVth to the end of the XVth century was the Gothic period. Then tapestry was at its greatest height. More of the requisites of its design were met, and met more adequately and more naturally, than by any subsequent school of designers or any looms. As illustration, the tapestry of the Gothic period is interesting, vivid, and provocative. The stories and episodes that it presents were, to be sure, all part of the mental content of the audience, so that they comprehended them more immediately than we; but even without the literary background we follow them readily, so adequate is their delineation. Moreover, they carry successfully almost every narrative mood--humor, romance, lyricism, excitement, pathos, and pure adventure--and, except in the traditional religious scenes, they wisely eschew such tenser dramatic attitudes as a momentous climax, long-sustained suspense, or profound tragedy. Finally, when they had a good tale to tell, the Gothic designers rendered their episodes with a fullness of incident and a vivacity of detail never again equaled. As mural decorations, too, the Gothic tapestries are equally successful. For the figures are always flat and, even while natural and animated, are often slightly formalized and structural in drawing (cf. No. 10); the outlines are clean and active, the colors strong and broad, the vistas either eliminated as in the millefleurs (cf. No. 11) or completely simplified (cf. No. 13), while the details are abundant and delightful. Finally, they are among the most sumptuous textiles ever woven in the Western World--sumptuous, not because of costly material, for they only rarely use metal thread, and even silk is unusual, but sumptuous because of the variety and magnificence of their designs and the splendor and opulence of their color. Thus the Gothic designers both appreciated and employed to the full all of the æsthetic conditions of their art; yet they did not do this from any theoretical comprehension of the medium. The supremacy of Gothic tapestry rests on a broad basis. It is the final product of one of the most vital and creative epochs in the history of art; its designers were brought up in a great tradition, surrounded everywhere by the most magnificent architectural monuments, accustomed to the habit of beauty in small as well as great things, still inspired and nourished by the fertile spirit that had created and triumphantly solved so many problems in the field of art. A passion for perfection and an elevated and sophisticated taste animated all of the crafts, of which tapestry was but one. The full flowering of tapestry is contemporaneous with that of Limoges enamel, paralleling it in many ways, even to the employment of the same designers (cf. No. 7). Great armor was being made at the same time--armor that exemplified as never before or since its inherent qualities and possibilities: perfection of form and finish, a sensitive and expressive surface, and exquisite decoration logically developed out of construction. Furniture also achieved at that time a combination of strength with natural and imaginative embellishments that still defies copy, while the first publishers were producing the most beautiful books that have ever been printed, unsurpassable in the clear and decorative silhouette of the type, in the perfection of tone, and in the balanced spacing of the composition. Other textile arts, such as that of velvet and brocade weaving, reached the utmost heights of subtlety and magnificence. This easy achievement of masterpieces in kindred fields, so characteristic of great epochs, doubtless stimulated tapestry-weaving as it did every other art. This great achievement of the Gothic period in so many fields of art was the natural flowering of the spirit of the time. Life for all was limited in content, education as we understand it meager and ill-diffused, opportunities for advancement for the individual about non-existent. Despite these limitations--partly, indeed, because of them--and despite the physical disorders of the age, there were, none the less, a simplicity and unity of mind and an integrity of spirit that provided the basis for great achievement. The spontaneous and tremendous energy, the inexhaustible fertility that was an inheritance from their Frankish and Germanic forbears were now moulded and controlled by common institutions, by the acceptance of common points of view and the consciousness of unified and fundamental principles of life, the acceptance of an authoritative social system that defined and limited each man's ambitions. All these factors prevented the protracted self-analysis, the aimless criticism, the uncertainties and confusion of individual aims that consume our energies, detract from our will, and impoverish our accomplishments. Theirs was in no sense an ambiguous age; they were conscious of a universal spirit, continuously pressing for expression in art which could fortunately forge straight ahead to objective embodiment. The stimulation of all of the arts had come in part, too, from the inrush of culture from the Byzantine Empire, where traditions and riches had been heaping up continuously ever since the Greek civilization had at its height spilled over into the East. Every flood-tide of culture is created by various streams of ideas and customs that have for generations taken separate courses. All competent ethnologists are agreed that, no matter what the native equipment of a people is, no matter how abundant are their natural resources, how friendly and encouraging is their environment or how threatening and stimulating, one stream of culture flowing alone never rises to great heights. Invention, evolved organization, and artistic production come only with the meeting and mingling of ideas and habits. The East had first fertilized European intellectual creativeness when the numerous Crusades and the sacking of Constantinople by the Franks brought a wealth of novel and exciting ideas into France and the neighboring territories in the XIth and XIIth centuries. There followed the great period of cathedral-building with all the minor accompanying artistic developments of the sculpture, the glass-painting, the manuscript illuminating, the enameling, the lyrics of Southern France, and the romances and fabliaux of Northern. This tide was ebbing slowly when a second rush from the East incident to the fall of Constantinople in 1453 lifted it again. The art of tapestry was especially sensitive to this second Byzantine influence. The industry was coming to its height; the demand was already prodigious, the prices paid enormous, the workers highly skilled and well organized. Tapestry was ready to assimilate any relevant contribution. It enthusiastically took unto itself the sumptuous luxury of the decadent Orient with its splendid fabrics, encrusted architecture, complex patterns, and heavy glowing colors. The simple Frankish spirit of the earlier pieces (cf. No. 2) was almost submerged by the riotously extravagant opulence of the East (cf. Nos. 17, 18). On the other hand, too, from the jewelry of Scandinavia, a remote descendant of an ancient Oriental precedent, tapestry adopted examples of heavy richness of design. And at the same time it took also from the Byzantine some of the formality, the thickness of elaborate drapery, the conventionalization of types, and the rigidity of drawing that had paralyzed the art of Byzantium, but that in tapestry enhanced the architectural character and so constituted a real addition. The tendency of the late XIVth century to an absorption in an exact naturalism which might have immediately rushed French and Flemish taste into the scientific realism of the Florentine Renaissance was checked and deflected by the example and the memory of the stiff carven form, the arrested gestures, and the fixed draperies of the mosaics and manuscript illuminations of the Eastern Empire (cf. No. 8). But aside from these general considerations, which were vital for the creation of great tapestries, there was at work a specific principle perhaps even more important. The manner of treatment which the tapestry medium itself calls for was one which was native to the mind of the time and which declared itself in a great variety of forms. [Illustration: Map Showing the Principle centers of Production of Gothic and early Renaissance TAPESTRIES drawn by Arthur Upham Pope For the San Francisco Museum of Art Retrospective Loan Exhibition of Tapestries Copyright 1922 ] In the first place, the Middle Ages were in spirit narrative. The bulk of their literature was narrative--long historical or romantic poems with endless sequences of continued episodes that never came to any dominating climax. Their drama, too, was narrative, a story recounted through a number of scenes that could be cut short at almost any point or could be carried on indefinitely without destroying the structure, because there was no inclusive unity in them, no returning of the theme on itself such as distinguishes Greek drama or Shakespeare and which we demand in modern times. Their religion and their ethics also were narrative, dependent, for the common man, upon the life history of sacred individuals that both explained the fundamental truths of the universe and set models for moral behavior. And they were supplemented, too, by profane histories with moralizing symbolism contrived to point the way to the good life, such as we find in the _Roman de la Rose_ (cf. No. 4). Even their lesser ethics, their etiquette, was narrative, derived from the fabric of chivalric romance. And, again, their greatest art, their architecture, was adorned with narrative, ornamented with multiple histories, so that even the capital of a column told a tale. The whole world about them was narrative, so that the painters and designers must needs think in narrative terms, and hence as illustrators. The narrative features of the other arts also lent them valuable examples for their tapestries. Most of their renderings of religious stories were taken direct from the Mystery Plays (cf. No. 14), and some of their scenes were already familiar to them in stained glass and church sculptures. Moreover, narrative decorations were interesting and important to the people of the XVth century because they had only very limited resources for intellectual entertainment. Books were scarce, but even if plentiful would have been of little use, for very few could read. The theatre for the mass of the people was limited to occasional productions on church holidays of Mystery and Miracle plays, and even for the great dukes these were only meagerly supplemented by court entertainers. There was no illustrated daily news, no moving pictures, no circuses, no menageries, no easy travel to offer ready recreation. In our distractedly crowded life today we are apt to forget how limited were the lives of our ancestors and what pleasure, as a result, they could get from a woven story on their walls. In the second place, the Gothic designers, when they came to draw their decorative illustrations, because of their inherited traditions, naturally fell into a technique adapted to the architectual forms of mural decoration. For all the art of the Middle Ages was the derivative of architecture, and at its inception was controlled by it. The original conception of the graphic arts in this period was the delineation on a flat surface of sculpture--sculpture, moreover, that was basically structural, because made as part of a building. So the painted figures were heavily outlined silhouettes in a few broad planes with the poise and the restraint essential to sculpture. These early statuesque figures, familiar in the primitive manuscript illumination and stained-glass windows, had, by the time the tapestries reached their apogee, been modified by a fast-wakening naturalism. But the underlying idea of the silhouette and of the poised body was not yet lost, and so it was natural for tapestry designers to meet these requirements. The naturalism, on the other hand, was just becoming strong enough to make the lines more gracefully flowing and the details more varied and more delicate and exact in drawing, so that the very transitional form of the art of the time made it especially well adapted to a woven rendition. In the third place, the cartoons, even if they were not quite right in feeling when they came from the painter's hand, would be modified in the translation into the weave by the workmen themselves; for the weavers at that time were respected craftsmen with sufficient command of design to make their own patterns for the less important orders, and were therefore perfectly able to modify and enrich the details of the cartoon of even a great painter. And no designer in the one medium of paint can ever fit his theme to the other medium of wool quite as aptly as the man who is doing the weaving himself. Thus because the Gothic period happened to be a time when it was natural for the artists to make vivacious and decorative illustrations in clear, flat silhouettes with rich details, most of the Gothic tapestries have some measure of artistic greatness, sufficient to put them above all but the very greatest pieces of later times. Even when we discount the additions that time and our changed attitude make, the beauty of softened and blended colors, the charm of the unaccustomed and the quaint, the interest of the unfamiliar costumes, the literary flavor of old romantic times--even discounting these, they are still inherently superior. To be sure, they are rarely pretty and are sometimes frankly ugly, but with a tonic ugliness which possesses the deepest of all æsthetic merits, stimulating vitality. They have verve, energy, a pungent vividness that sharply reminds the beholder that he is alive. Their angular emphatic silhouettes and pure, highly saturated, abruptly contrasted colors catch and hold the attention and quicken all the vital responses that are essential to clear perception and full appreciation. They are a standing refutation of the many mistaken theories that would make the essence of beauty consist merely in the balanced form and symmetry, or smooth perfection of rendition, or photographic accuracy of representation. They are a forceful and convincing demonstration that in the last analysis beauty is the quality that arouses the fullest realization of life. Within the common Gothic character there are clearly recorded local differences: the division between the French and the Flemish, not marked until the middle of the XVth century, because up to that time the Franco-Flemish school was really one and continuous. It amalgamated influences from both regions and absorbed a rather strong contribution from Italy. The center of activity was at first Paris and then at the courts of the Burgundian dukes. But after the middle of the century the divergence is rapid and clear. The French is characterized by greater simplicity, clarity, elegance, and delicacy. Even the strong uprush of realism was held in check in France by decorative sensitiveness. The most characteristic designs of the time are the millefleurs, the finer being made in Touraine (cf. No. 8), the coarser in La Marche. The Flemish decoration, on the other hand, is sumptuous, overflowing, sometimes confused, always energetic, and strongly varied in detail. Nothing checks the relentless realism that sometimes runs even to caricature and often is fantastic (cf. the punishment scenes in No. 4). Typical of Flemish abundance are the cartoons with multiple religious scenes, heavy with rich draperies and gorgeous with infinite detail, yet not subordinating to theme the human interest of many well-delineated types of character (cf. No. 18). Brussels was the great center for the production of work of this kind, but beautiful pieces were being produced in almost every city of the Lowlands--Bruges, Tournai, Arras, and many more. The German Gothic tapestry is quite different from both of these. It was developed almost entirely independently, under quite other conditions. While the French and Flemish shops grew up under the patronage of the great and wealthy nobles, and worked primarily for these lavish art-patrons, in Germany the nobles were impoverished and almost outcast; there was scarcely a real court, and all the wealth lay in the hand of the burghers, solid, practical folk who did not see much sense in art. So while in France and in the Lowlands the workshops were highly organized under great _entrepreneurs_, and the profits were liberal, in Germany the workshops were very small, and many of the pieces were not made professionally at all, but were the work of nuns in the convents or of ladies in their many idle hours. Thus the industry that in France and Flanders was definitely centered in the great cities such as Paris and Brussels, in Germany was scattered through many towns, primarily, however, those of south Germany and Switzerland. And, too, while the designs for the French and Flemish pieces were specially made by manuscript illuminators, painters, or professional cartoon designers, some of whom, like Maître Philippe (cf. Nos. 17-19), conducted great studios, for the German pieces the weavers themselves adapted the figures from one of the woodcuts that were the popular art of the German people or from some book illustration. So while the French and Flemish tapestries reached great heights of skill and luxury, and really were a great art, the German tapestry remained naïve and simple and most of its artistic value is the product of that very naïveté. Toward the close of the XVth century a change begins to appear in the character of tapestry design. More and more often paintings are exactly reproduced down to the last detail. At first sporadic products, the reproductions of the work of such masters as Roger Van der Weyden and Bernard Van Orley become more and more frequent until by the end of the first quarter of the XVIth century they are a commonplace. Yet even though tapestry is no longer entirely true to itself, these tapestry paintings are nevertheless beautiful and fit. A woven painting has not yet become an anomaly because painting in Northern Europe is still narrative and decorative. There are still poise and restraint and clear flat silhouette and rich detail. It was not until tapestry plunged full into the tide of the Italian Renaissance that it entirely lost its Gothic merits. But when, beginning in 1515 with the arrival of Raphael's cartoons for the Pope's _Apostle_ series, the weavers of the North began to depend more and more for their designs on the painters of the South and on painters trained in the South, the character of tapestry completely changed. True, tapestry in the old style was still made for two decades, but in diminishing numbers. The Renaissance had the field. In place of endlessly varied detail, the designers sought for instantly impressive effects, and these are of necessity obvious. Every-thing grew larger, coarser, more insistent on attention. Figures were monumental, floreation bold and strong, architecture massive. Even the verdures developed a new manner; great scrolling acanthus-leaves and exotic birds (cf. No. 33) took the place of the delicate field flowers and pigeons and songsters. Drama took the place of narrative. On many pieces metal thread was lavished in abundance. The whole flagrant richness of the newly modern world was called into play. For the first time also with Renaissance tapestry, it becomes relevant to ask, Do they look like the scenes they depict?--for realism was in the full tide of its power. A hundred and fifty years before the Renaissance realism had begun to develop, inspired by the naturalism of Aristotle, whose influence had gradually filtered down from the schools to the people, and throughout the XIVth and early XVth century it had been slowly growing. The hunting tapestries of the first part of the XVth century are early examples of it. But the Gothic realism was an attempt to convey the impression of the familiar incidents of life, to get expressive gestures, to record characteristic bits of portraiture, whether of people or things or episodes, so that a Gothic tapestry can be adjudged naturalistically successful if it carries strongly the spirit and effect of a situation regardless of whether the drawing is quite true or not (cf. No. 2). Renaissance realism, on the other hand, is not satisfied with the impression, but strives for the fact. It wishes to depict not only the world as one sees it, but as one knows it to be--knows it, moreover, after long and careful study. So in all Renaissance graphic art correct anatomy becomes of importance, solid modeling is essential, and all details must be specific. Yet, though tapestry in the Renaissance was no longer illustrative in the old sense, it still was decoratively fine; for the painting of Italy was founded on a mural art, and the decorative traditions still held true. Outlines are still clear and expressive. There was respect for architectural structure, and details, if less complex and sensitive, are still rich and full. Color, too, is still strong and pure, though the key is heightened somewhat and the number of tones increased. Moreover, the Renaissance introduced two important new resources, the wide border and the grotesque. Hitherto the border had been a narrow floral garland, a minor adjunct easily omitted. Now it became of major importance, always essential to the beauty of the piece, often the most beautiful part of it, designed with great resource and frequently interwoven with gold and silver. The grotesque, from being originally a border decoration, soon spread itself over the whole field (cf. No. 36), mingling with amusing incongruity but with decorative consistency goats and fair ladies, trellis, flowers, and heraldic devices. What the Renaissance lacked in subtlety it made up in abundance. During the Renaissance the tapestry industry was dominated by the Flemish cities, with Brussels at the head. She had the greatest looms, great both for the exceeding skill of the workers and for the enormous quantity of the production. Some workshops, of which the most famous was that of the Pannemaker family, specialized in exquisitely fine work rendered in the richest materials. Of this class, the most typical examples are the miniature religious tapestries in silk and metal thread, in which all the perfection of a painting was united with the sumptuousness of a most extravagant textile (cf. No. 35). But sometimes full-sized wall-hangings too were done with the same perfection and elaboration (cf. Nos. 23-25). Other shops sacrificed the perfection of workmanship to a large output, but even in the most commercially organized houses the weavers of Flanders in the XVIth century were able and conscientious craftsmen. These same Flemish workmen were called to different countries in Europe to establish local looms. So Italy had several small temporary ateliers at this period, as did England also (cf. No. 32). But though these shops were in Italy and England, they were still predominantly Flemish. The character of local decoration and local demand influenced the design somewhat, but fundamentally the products both in cartoon and in weave were still those of the mother country. In France, however, the Flemish workmen were made the tools of the beginning of a new national revival of the art. A group of weavers was called to Fontainebleau, where, under the extravagant patronage of Francis I, the French Renaissance was taking form. These Flemings, weaving designs made by Italians, nevertheless created decorative textiles that are typically French in spirit (cf. No. 37). France alone had a strong enough artistic character to refashion the conventions of Italy and the technique of Flanders to a national idiom. In the next century this revival of the art which survived at Fontainebleau barely fifty years was carried on in several ateliers at Paris. The workmen were still predominantly Flemish, but again their work was unmistakably French (cf. No. 38). In Trinity Hospital looms had been maintained since the middle of the XVIth century. In the gallery of the Louvre looms were set up about 1607. And the third and most important shop was established by Marc de Comans and François de la Planche at the invitation of the king. This was most important, because it later was moved to the Bièvre River, where the Gobelins family had its old dye-works, and it eventually became the great state manufactory. Thereafter for the next two centuries the looms of Flanders and France worked in competition. Now one, now the other took precedence, but France had a slowly increasing superiority that by the middle of the XVIIIth century put her two royal looms, the Gobelin and Beauvais, definitely in the forefront of the industry. For cartoons the looms of the two countries called on the great painters of the time, often requisitioning the work of the same painters, and sometimes even using the very same designs. Thus Van der Meulen worked both for Brussels manufacturers (cf. Nos. 53-56) and for the French state looms (cf. No. 52), and the Gobelin adapted to its uses the old Lucas _Months_ that had originated in Flanders (cf. Nos. 57, 58.) But though they did thus parallel each other in cartoons, the finished tapestries nevertheless retained their national differences. As in the Gothic period, the Flemish tapestries in all respects showed a tendency to somewhat overdo. Their figures were larger, their borders crushed fuller of flowers and fruit, their verdures heavier, their grotesques more heterogeneous, their metal threads solider. Their abundance was rich and decorative, but lacking in refinement and grace. The French, on the other hand, kept always a certain detachment and restraint that made for clarity and often delicacy. When the Baroque taste demanded huge active figures, the French still kept theirs well within the frame. Their borders were always spaced and usually more abstract. The verdures of Aubusson can be distinguished from those of Audenarde by the fewer leaves, the lighter massing, the more dispersed lights and shades. The grotesques of France, especially in the XVIIIth century, often controlled the random fancy popularized among the Flemish weavers by introducing a central idea, a goddess above whom they could group the proper attributes (cf. No. 36), or a court fête (cf. No. 59). And when the French used metal thread it was to enrich a limited space rather than to weight a whole tapestry. In a way the opulence of the Flemish was better adapted to the medium. Certainly it produced some very beautiful tapestries. But the refinement of the French is a little more sympathetic to an overcivilized age. With the accession of Louis XV, tapestry joined the other textile arts and painting in following furniture styles. Thereafter, until the advent of machinery put an end to tapestry as a significant art, the cabinetmaker led all the other decorators. Small pieces with small designs, light colors, delicate floral ornaments, and the reigning temporary fad--now the Chinese taste (cf. No. 71), now the pastoral (cf. No. 68)--occupied the attention of the cartoonmakers, so that the chief occupations of the court beauties of each successive decade can be read in the tapestries. During this time France was dictating the fashions of all the Western World, so other countries were eager not only to have her tapestries, but to have her workmen weave for them in their own capitals. Accordingly, the royal family of Russia, always foreign in its tastes, sent for a group of weavers to set up a royal Russian tapestry works. Similarly, Spain sent for a Frenchman to direct her principal looms, those at Santa Barbara and Madrid, which for a decade or so had been running under a Fleming. And meanwhile tapestry was steadily becoming more and more another form of painting. Until the middle of the XVIIIth century it remains primarily illustrative. The Renaissance designers continued to tell historical and biblical stories and to fashion the designs in the service of the tale they had to tell. With the influence of Rubens and his school (cf. No. 44), the story becomes chiefly the excuse for the composition; but the story is nevertheless still there and adequately presented. The artists of Louis XIV, when called upon to celebrate their king in tapestry, respected this quality of the art by depicting his history and his military exploits (cf. No. 52). But illustration already begins to run thin in the series of the royal residences done by the Gobelins during his reign, and with the style of his successor it runs out almost altogether. If Boucher paints the series of the _Loves of the Gods_ it is not for the sake of the mythology, but for the rosy flesh and floating drapes, and Fragonard does not even bother to think of an excuse, but makes his languid nudes simply bathers (cf. No. 69). So when Louis XV is to be celebrated by his weavers the designers make one effort to invent a story by depicting his hunts, and then abandon episode and substitute portraiture (cf. No. 64). Throughout most of the Renaissance, tapestry remained decorative as a mural painting is decorative, but in the XVIIth century, with the degeneration of all architectual feeling, tapestry lost entirely its architectual character. It was still decorative--it was decorative as the painting of the time was. The tapestries of the XVIIth century are giant easel paintings, and of the XVIIIth century woven panel paintings. As to the textile quality, during the XVIIth century the very scale of the pieces kept them somewhat true to it. The large figures, heavy foliage, and big floral ornaments can fall successfully into wide, soft folds. But most of the tapestry of the XVIIIth century must be stretched and set in panels or frames. That they are woven is incidental, a fact to call forth wonder for the skill of the workmen, both of the dyers who perfected the numberless slight gradations of delicate tones and kept them constant, and of the almost unbelievably deft weavers who could ply the shuttle so finely and exactly and grade these delicate tones to reproduce soft modeled flesh, fluttering draperies, billowing clouds, spraying fountains, and the sheen and folds of different materials. But that they are woven is scarcely a fact to be considered in the artistic estimate. The only advantage of the woven decorations over the painted panel is that they present a softer surface to relieve the cold glitter of rooms. Otherwise as paintings they stand or fall. Even the border has usually been reduced to a simulated wood or stucco frame. During this gradual change through five hundred years in the artistic qualities of tapestry the technical tricks of the weavers underwent corresponding modification. In the Gothic period the drawing depended primarily upon a strong dark outline, black or brown, that was unbroken, and that was especially important whether the design was affiliated rather with panel painting (cf. No. 1) or with the more graphic miniature illustration (cf. No. 5). Even the lesser accessories were all drawn in clear outline. Within a given color area, transitions from tone to tone were made by hatchings, little bars of irregular length of one of the shades that fitted into alternate bars of the other shade, like the teeth of two combs interlocked. And for shadows and emphasis of certain outlines, some of the Gothic weavers had a very clever trick of dropping stitches (cf. No. 1), so that a series of small holes in the fabric takes the place of a dark line. During the Renaissance the outline becomes much narrower, and is used only for the major figures, a device that sometimes makes the figures look as if they had been cut out and applied to the design. Hatching, if used at all, is much finer than in the earlier usage, consisting now of only single lines of one color shading into the next. In the work of Fontainbleau (cf. Nos. 36, 37), the dotted series of holes between colors is still used to give a subordinate outline. During the XVIIth century hatching is scarcely used at all, and the outline has practically disappeared. During the XVIIIth century the French weavers perfected a trick which obviated any break in the weave where the color changes, thus enabling tapestry to approximate even closer to painting effects. To the weavers who adjusted these tricks to the varying demands of the cartoons, and so translated painted patterns in a woven fabric, is due quite as much credit for the finished work of art as to the painters who first made the design. Famous painters did prepare tapestry designs. Aside from the masters of the Middle Ages to whom tapestries are attributed, we have positive evidence that, among others, Jacques Daret, Roger Van der Weyden, Raphael, Giulio Romano (cf. Nos. 23-25), Le Brun, Rubens, Coypel (cf. Nos. 62, 63), Boucher (cf. Nos. 67, 68), Watteau, Fragonard (cf. No. 69), and Vernet (cf. No. 70), all worked on tapestry designs. The master weavers who could transpose their designs deserve to rank with them in honor. Yet we know relatively little of these master weavers. Many names of tapicers appear in tax-lists and other documents, but not until the XVIIIth century do the names often represent to us definite personalities, and until then we can only occasionally credit a man with his surviving work. From the long lists of names and the great numbers of remaining tapestries a few only can be connected. Among the greatest of these is Nicolas Bataille, of Paris, who wove the famous set of the _Apocalypse_ now in the Cathedral of Angers; Pasquier Grenier, of Tournai, to whom the _Wars of Troy_ and related sets can be accredited (cf. No. 7), but who apparently was an _entrepreneur_ rather than a weaver; Pieter Van Aelst, who was so renowned that the cartoons of Raphael were first entrusted to him; William Pannemaker, another Brussels man, who had supreme taste and skill, and his relative Pierre, almost as skilful; Marc Comans and François de la Planche, the Flemings who set up the looms in Paris that developed into the Gobelins (cf. No. 38); Jean Lefébvre, who worked first in the gallery of the Louvre and then had his studio in the Gobelins (cf. Nos. 39, 40); the Van der Beurchts, of Brussels (cf. Nos. 42, 56), and Leyniers (cf. Nos. 26, 27), and Cozette, most famous weaver of the Gobelins. Such men as these, and many more whose names are lost or are neglected because we do not know their work, were in their medium as important artists as the painters whose designs they followed. With the passing of such master craftsmen the art of tapestry died. When men must compete with machines their work is no more respected, and so tapestry is no longer the natural medium of expression for the culture of the times. Tapestries are still being made, but there is no genuine vitality in the art and little merit in its product. It exists today only as an exhausted and irrelevant persistence from the past, and, as a fine art, doomed to failure and ultimate extinction. P.A. [Illustration: _The Annunciation_ No. 1 ] [Illustration: _The Chase_ No. 2 ] CATALOGUE _Abbreviations_: H. (_Height_); W. (_Width_); _ft._ (_Feet_); _in._ (_Inches_). _"Right" & "Left," refer to right & left of the spectator_ [Sidenote: 1] FRANCO-FLEMISH, POSSIBLY ARRAS, BEGINNING OF XV OR END OF XIV CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool, Silk, Gold._ H. 11 _ft._ 4 _in._ W. 9 _ft._ 6 _in._ ] THE ANNUNCIATION: _The Virgin, in a blue robe lined with red, is seated before a reading-desk in a white marble portico with a tile floor. Behind her is a red and metal gold brocade. The lily is in a majolica jar. The angel, in a green robe with yellow high lights lined with red, has alighted in a garden without. In the sky, God the Father holding the globe and two angels bearing a shield._ The treatment of the sky in two-toned blue and white striations, as well as the conventional landscape without perspective, with small oak and laurel trees, is characteristic of a number of tapestries of the opening years of the XVth century. Most of them depicted hunting scenes. But there was one famous religious piece, the _Passion_ of the Cathedral of Saragossa. In the drawing of the figures and some of the details the piece is closely related to the paintings of that Paris school of which Jean Malouel is the most famous member. The work is by no means by Malouel, but it is similar to that of one of his lesser contemporaries, whose only known surviving work is a set of six panels painted on both sides, two of which are in the Cuvellier Collection at Niort and the others in the Mayer Van der Bergh Collection at Antwerp. The very primitively rendered Eternal Father is almost identical with the one that appears in several of the panels; the roughly indicated shaggy grass is the same, the rather unusual angle of the angel's wings recurs in the Cuvellier _Annunciation_, as does the suspended poise of the Virgin's attitude. The Virgin's reading-desk, too, is almost identical, though shown in the panel at the other side of the scene. The long, slim-fingered hands and the pointed nose and chin of the Virgin are characteristic of the school. The tiles in the portico, so carefully rendered, are of interest because they are very similar to the earliest-known tile floor still in position--that of the Caracciolo Chapel in Naples. Some of the same patterns are repeated, notably that of the Virgin's initial and the star, which is more crudely rendered. The colors, too, are approximately the same, the brown being a fair rendering of the manganese purple of the chapel tiles. The majolica vase is also interesting as illustrating a type of which few intact examples are left. [Sidenote: Exhibited: _Chicago Art Institute, Gothic Exhibition_, 1921.] [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] The piece maintains a high level of æsthetic expression. The religious emotion is intensely felt and is adequately conveyed in the wistful sadness of the Virgin's face and the expectant suspense of her poised body. The portico seems removed from reality and flooded by a direct heavenly light, in its shining whiteness contrasting with the deep blue-green background. This tapestry by virtue of its intense and elevated feeling, purified by æsthetic calm and by its exceptional decorative vividness, ranks with the very great masterpieces of the graphic arts. [Sidenote: 2] FRANCO-FLEMISH, EARLY XV CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Gold._ H. 5 _ft._ 5 _in._ W. 5 _ft._ 11 _in._ ] THE CHASE: _A man in a long dark-blue coat and high red hat and a lady in a brown brocade dress and ermine turban watch a dog in leather armor attack a bear. A landscape with trees and flowers is indicated without perspective and a castle in simple outline is projected against a blue and white striated sky._ [Sidenote: Exhibited: _South Kensington Museum, French-English Retrospective Exhibition of Textiles_, 1921.] This tapestry is an important example of a small group of hunting scenes of the early XVth century. It is closely related in style to the famous pair of large hunting tapestries in the collection of the Duke of Devonshire. It is not definitely known where any of these pieces were woven, but Arras is taken as a safe assumption, as that was the center of weaving at the time, and these tapestries are the finest production known of the period. The very simple figures sharply silhouetted against the contrasting ground have a decidedly architectural quality, perfectly adapted to mural decoration. Yet the scene seems very natural and the persons have marked and attractive personalities. [Sidenote: Illustrated: _La Renaissance de l'Art français_, 1921, p. 104; _Burlington_, vol. 38, opp. p. 171. _DeMotte, Les Tapisseries gothiques_, Deuxième Série.] These exceedingly rare pieces mark the great wave of naturalism that began sweeping over Europe about 1350 and they exemplify strikingly one of the finest qualities of the primitive--the impressive universality and objectivity that come from the freshness of the artist's vision. Looking straight at the thing itself, free from all the presuppositions that come from an inherited convention, the draftsman saw the essentials and recorded them directly without any confusing elaboration of technique. He was completely absorbed by the unsolved problems of the task, too occupied with the difficulty of rendering the central outstanding features of the scene to be diverted by personal affectations. His realization thus became vivid and intimate, his rendition achieved a singularity and epic force never again to be found in tapestry. [Sidenote: Lent by _Demotte_.] This is one of the few tapestries that have been improved by age. Time has spread over it a slight gray bloom that seems to remove it from the actual world, giving it the isolation that is so important a factor in æsthetic effect; yet the depth and strength of the colors have not been weakened, for we interpret the grayness as a fine veil through which the colors shine with their original purity. [Sidenote: 3] FLANDERS, MIDDLE XV CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 15 _ft._ 7 _in._ W. 14 _ft._ 7 _in._ ] THE ANNUNCIATION, THE NATIVITY, AND THE ANNOUNCEMENT TO THE SHEPHERDS: _At the left in a Gothic chapel the Annunciation. The Virgin, in a richly jeweled and brocaded robe, reads the Holy Book. The angel in rich robes kneels before her. The lilies are in a dinanderie vase. Through the open door a bit of landscape is seen, and in a room beyond the chapel two women sit reading. The Nativity, at the right, is under a pent roof. The Virgin, Joseph, and Saint Elizabeth kneel in adoration about the Holy Babe, who lies on the flower-strewn grass. John kneels in front of his mother, and in the foreground an angel also worships. Above and beyond the stable the three shepherds sit tending their flocks, and an angel bearing the announcement inscribed on a scroll flutters down to them from Heaven. Oak-trees, rose-vines, and blossoming orange-trees in the grass._ [Illustration: _The Annunciation, The Nativity, and The Announcement to the Shepherds_ No. 3 ] [Illustration: _Scenes from the Roman de la Rose_ No. 4 ] This tapestry belongs to a small and very interesting group, all evidently the work of one designer. The three famous _Conversations Galantes_ (long erroneously called the _Baillée des Roses_) in the Metropolitan Museum are by the same man, as are the four panels of the _History of Lohengrin_ in Saint Catherine's Church, Cracow, the fifth fragmentary panel of the series being in the Musée Industrielle, Cracow. A fragment from the same designer showing a party of hunters is in the Church of Notre Dame de Saumur de Nantilly, and another fragment depicting a combat is in the Musée des Arts Decoratifs. Three small fragments--one with a single figure of a young man with a swan, like the Metropolitan pieces, on a striped ground, another showing a king reading in a portico very similar to the portico of the _Annunciation_, and the third showing a group of people centered about a king--were in the Heilbronner Collection. Schmitz points out[1] a connection between the three Metropolitan pieces and the series of seven pieces depicting the life of Saint Peter in the Beauvais Cathedral, with an eighth piece in the Cluny Musée, and it is quite evident that the cartoons are the work of the same man. But whereas the other pieces all have the same characteristics in the weaving, this series shows a somewhat different technique in such details as the outline and the hatchings, so that one must assume they were woven on another loom. Fortunately, there is documentary information on one set of the type that enables us to say definitely where and when the whole group was made. The _Lohengrin_ set was ordered by Philip the Good from the first Grenier of Tournai in 1462. There can be no reasonable doubt that the set in Saint Catherine's Church is the same, for in this set the knight is quite apparently modeled after Duke Philip himself, judging from the portraits of him in both the _Romance of Gerard de Rousillon_ (Vienna Hof-bibliothèque) and in the _History of Haynaut_ (Bibliothèque Royale, Brussels). Schmitz asserts that it is almost certainly useless to seek the author of these cartoons among contemporary painters, as they are probably the work of a professional cartoon painter, of which the Dukes of Burgundy kept several in their service--and this is probably true. But artists were not as specialized then as they are now, and even a professional tapestry designer might very well on occasion turn his hand to illustrating a manuscript or making a sketch for an enamel, so that it is not impossible that further research in the other contemporary arts may bring to light more information about this marked personality who created so individual a style. [Sidenote: Lent by _Duveen Brothers_.] This tapestry is exceedingly interesting, not only for its marked style of drawing and its quaint charm, but for the direct sincerity of the presentation and the brilliant and rather unaccustomed range of colors. [Sidenote: 4] FLANDERS, MIDDLE XV CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 8 _ft._ 4 _in._ W. 20 _ft._ 4 _in._ ] [Sidenote: Formerly in Skipton Castle, Ireland.] SCENES FROM THE ROMAN DE LA ROSE: _This piece illustrates one of the most popular romances of the Middle Ages, the Romance of the Rose, the first part of which was written in 1337 by Guillaume de Lorris, the second part in_ 1378 _by Jean de Meung, and translated into English by Chaucer. The culminating scenes are represented. Jealousy has imprisoned Bel Acceuil in a tower because he helped the Lover see the Rose after Jealousy had forbidden it. The Lover calls all his followers, Frankness, Honor, Riches, Nobility of Heart, Leisure, Beauty, Courage, Kindness, Pity, and a host of others, to aid him in rescuing the prisoner. In the course of the struggle Scandal, one of Jealousy's henchmen, is trapped by two of the Lover's followers posing as Pilgrims, who cut his throat and cut out his tongue. With the aid of Venus, the Lover finally wins._ [Sidenote: Exhibited: _Chicago Art Institute, Gothic Exhibition_, 1921.] The piece is very close in drawing to the illustrations of the Master of the Golden Fleece,[2] whom Lindner has identified as Philip de Mazarolles. The long bony, egg-shaped heads that look as if the necks were attached as an afterthought, the shoe-button eyes, flat mouths, and peaked noses all occur in his many illustrations. Characteristic of him, too, are the crowded grouping of the scene and the great care in presenting the accessories, every gown being an individual design, whereas many of his contemporary illustrators contented themselves with rendering the general style without variations. The conventional trees are probably the weaver's interpolations. The top of the tapestry being gone, there is no possibility of knowing whether his customary architectural background was included or not. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] The tapestry is interesting, not only because it is quaint, but because it is a vivid illustration of the spirit of the time--virile, cruel, yet self-consciously moralistic. [Sidenote: 5] FLANDERS, MIDDLE XV CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 10 _ft._ 9 _in._ W. 17 _ft._ 5½ _in._ ] THE VINTAGE: _This piece was probably originally one of a series of the Months, representing September. Groups of lords and ladies have strolled down from the castle in the background to watch the peasants gathering and pressing the grapes._ [Sidenote: Formerly in the Collection of Edouard Aynard, Paris.] [Sidenote: Exhibited: _Exhibition of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, Old Palace of Sagan, Paris_, 1913.] The costumes and the drawing indicate that the piece was made in Burgundy at the time of Philip the Good. In fact, it is so close to the work of one of the most prolific of the illustrators who worked for Philip the Good that it is safe to assume that the original drawing for the cartoons was his work. In the pungency of the illustration and the vivacity of the episodes as well as in numerous details it follows closely the characteristics of Loysot Lyedet. Here are the same strong-featured faces with large prominent square mouths, the same exaggeratedly long and thin legs with suddenly bulging calves on the men, the same rapidly sketched flat hands, and the same attitudes. The very exact drawing of the bunches of grapes parallels the exactness with which he renders the household utensils in his indoor scenes, and the dogs, while they are of types familiar in all the illustrations of the time, have the decided personalities and alert manner that he seemed to take particular pleasure in giving them. [Sidenote: Reproduced: _Les Arts_, Sept., 1913; _Gazette des Beaux Arts_, 1913.] Another tapestry that seems to be from the same hand is _Le Bal de Sauvages_ in l'Eglise de Nantilly de Saumur. The piece is one of the most vivid and convincing illustrations of the life of the time that has come down to us in tapestry form. The silhouetting of the figures against contrasting colors and the structural emphasis of the vertical lines give the design great clarity and strength. [Sidenote: Lent by _Jacques Seligmann & Company_.] Loysot Lyedet was working for the Dukes of Burgundy in 1461. He died about 1468. Among the most famous of his illustrations are those of the _History of Charles Martel_ (Bibliothèque Royale, Brussels) _History of Alexander_ (Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris) and the _Roman History_ (Bibliothèque de l'Arsenal, Paris.) [Sidenote: 6] GERMANY, PROBABLY NUREMBERG, MIDDLE XV CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Gold._ H. 3 _ft._ 6 _in._ W. 7 _ft._ 6 _in._ ] SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF CHRIST: _The Life of Christ is shown in eight small scenes, beginning with the Entrance into Jerusalem, the Farewell to his Mother, the Last Supper, the Agony in the Garden, the Carrying of the Cross, the Crucifixion, the Pieta, and the Entombment._ The scenes in this tapestry were apparently adapted from the illustrations from a Nuremberg manuscript of the middle of the XVth century. Of course, the weaving may have been done later. The simplified arrangement of the scenes with a reduction to a minimum of the number of actors, the relative size of the figures to the small squares of the compositions, the marked indebtedness in the use of line and light and shade to woodcuts, and the courageous but not altogether easy use of the direct profile, all bring the pieces into close relationship with such book illustrations as those of George Pfinzing's book of travels (_The Pilgrimage to Jerusalem_), now in the City Library of Nuremberg.[3] In fact, the parallelism is so very close, the tapestry may well have been adapted from illustrations by the same man, the curiously conventionalized line-and-dot eyes being very characteristic of the Pfinzing illustrations and not common to all the school. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] In weaving many of the figures the warp is curved to follow the contours. The naïve directness and unassuming sincerity of the piece give it great interest. [Sidenote: 7] TOURNAI, THIRD QUARTER XV CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 10 _ft._ 6 _in._ W. 8 _ft._ 9 _in._ ] THE HISTORY OF HERCULES: _Hercules, clad in a magnificent suit of shining black armor, rides into the thickest tumult of a furious battle; with sword in his right hand, he skillfully parries the thrust of a huge lance, while with the other hand he deals a swinging backhand blow that smites an enemy footman into insensibility. His next opponent, obviously bewildered and frightened, has half-turned to flee. The whole apparatus of mediæval combat is shown in intense and crowded action. The piece is incomplete._ This tapestry illustrates one of the favorite stories of the Middle Ages, and was undoubtedly originally one of a set. In design it is closely related to the famous _Wars of Troy_ series, many examples of which are known and some of the first sketches for which are in the Louvre. It is also closely related to the _History of Titus_ set in the Cathedrale de Notre Dame de Nantilly de Saumur.[4] Both of these sets are signed by Jean Van Room, and this piece also is undoubtedly from his cartoon. All of these pieces were probably woven between 1460 and 1470. Jean Van Room (sometimes called de Bruxelles) is one of the most interesting personalities connected with the history of Gothic tapestry. He was a cartoon painter and probably conducted a large studio, judging from the number of pieces of his which are left to us. Fortunately, he had a habit of signing his name on obscure parts of the designs, such as the borders of garments. His work extends over sixty years and changes markedly in style during that time, adapting itself to the changing taste of his clients. This piece illustrates his earliest manner. In the succeeding decades he is more and more affected by the Renaissance and the Italian influence, until his latest pieces (cf. No. 21) are quite unlike these first designs. At the close of the century he began to collaborate with Maître Philippe, evidently a younger man, who had had Italian instruction and was less restrained by early Gothic training (cf. Nos. 17-19). Jean Van Room seems to have done designs for enamels, also, that were executed in the studio of the so-called Monvaerni. In the collection of Otto H. Kahn is a _Jesus before Pilate_ very close in style to Jean Van Room's early work,[5] on which appear the letters M E R A, which might even be a pied misspelling of Room, for similar confused signatures appear on tapestries known to be his. A triptych with _Crucifixion_ in the collection of Charles P. Taft[6] has figures very close to the _Crucifixion_ tapestry in the Cathedral of Angers done by Van Room in his middle period. According to Marquet de Vasselot, this enamel bears the letters JENRAGE, but M. de Vasselot also comments on its illegibility in the present condition of the enamel. Could he have misread a letter or two? Still another triptych with _Crucifixion_, in the Hermitage,[7] actually repeats two figures from the Angers _Crucifixion_ with only very slight variations. Jean Van Room borrowed liberally from various other artists at different stages of his career. In the _Wars of Troy_, the _History of Titus_, and this piece he seems to have relied primarily on Jean le Tavernier for his models, the affiliation being especially close in the _Wars of Troy_. Le Tavernier is known to have illustrated the _Wars of Troy_,[8] and Jean Van Room, judging from the close stylistic relations of his Troy tapestries with le Tavernier's drawings, evidently took his hints from this lost manuscript. [Illustration: _The Vintage_ No. 5 ] [Illustration: _Entombment on Millefleurs_ No. 8 ] This piece was probably woven under Pasquier Grenier at Tournai, as were the _Wars of Troy_, on which there are some documents. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] This tapestry presents with extraordinary vividness the fury, din, excessive effort, hot excitement, and blinding confusion of crowded hand-to-hand conflicts that marked mediæval warfare. It must have been conceived and rendered by an eye-witness who knew how to select and assemble the raw facts of the situation with such honesty and directness that an overwhelming impression of force and tumult is created, and it was woven for patrons, the fighting Dukes of Burgundy, by whom every gruesome incident would be observed with relish and every fine point of individual combat noted with a shrewd and appraising eye. [Sidenote: 8] FRANCE, END XV CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 2 _ft._ 10 _in._ W. 7 _ft._ 10 _in._ ] ENTOMBMENT ON MILLEFLEURS: _Christ lies on the tomb which is inscribed "Humani Generis Redeptori." John in a red cloak, the Virgin in a blue cloak over a red brocaded dress, and Mary Magdalene in a red cloak over a green dress stand behind the tomb. At the head, removing the crown of thorns, stands Joseph of Arimathea and at the foot Nicodemus. Both Joseph and Nicodemus are in richly brocaded robes. Borders at the sides only of alternate blue and red squares inscribed I H S and M A surrounded by jeweled frames. Millefleurs on a blue ground. In the upper left corner the monogram I S and in the upper right W S, with a scroll under each bearing the inscription "de Mailly."_ This tapestry is an unusually delicately and perfectly rendered example of the _millefleurs aux personnages_ of France of the late Gothic period. A small piece like this was undoubtedly made for a private chapel, probably that of the de Mailly family. This quality of millefleurs was probably woven in Touraine. An altar frontal showing the Pieta which is very similar in style is in the Kunstgewerbe Museum. [Sidenote: Lent by _Demotte_.] The drawing has the nice exactness of a finished miniature, the workmanship the brilliance of enamel; yet both are transfigured by the vivid conception of the tragic event. Its utter pathos is expressed with moving power. We are in the presence of an unutterably solemn moment. [Sidenote: 9] FRANCE, END XV CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 4 _ft._ 6 _in._ W. 3 _ft._ ] MILLEFLEURS ARMORIAL WITH WILD MEN: _On a delicate millefleurs ground a wild man and woman hold an armorial shield surmounted by a winged helmet._ [Sidenote: Formerly in the C. D. Barney Collection.] [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] The wild men, probably a modified revival of the classical satyrs in modified form, were very popular in France in the XIIIth and XIVth centuries. There are tapestries extant depicting the balls where all the company came dressed in hairy tights to represent these creatures. Froissart recounts an episode of a ball at the Hotel St. Pol in Paris in 1392 when the king and five of his companions came in such costumes, all chained together, and the flax used to imitate the hair caught fire from a torch, so that in an instant all were enveloped in flames. The king was saved by the presence of mind of his cousin, who enveloped him in her skirts, and another was saved by jumping into a tub of water he had noticed earlier in the evening in an adjacent service-room. The others were burned to death. [Sidenote: 10] FRANCE, BEGINNING XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 7 _ft._ 10 _in._ W. 10 _ft._ 7 _in._ ] MILLEFLEURS WITH SHEPHERDS AND THE SHIELD OF THE RIGAUT FAMILY: _Against a background of conventionalized millefleurs, shepherds and shepherdesses and their flock. In the center, two peasants holding a shield, evidently of the Rigaut family. In the corners the shield of Rigaut and of another family. The tapestry was evidently made to celebrate a marriage, the corner shields signifying the joining of the families, an oblique reference being intended in the pairing of the shepherds and shepherdesses. A scroll in the center bears the inscription "Par Içi Passe Rigaut."_ [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] The naïveté both of the characterization and of the drawing that emphasizes the structural and silhouette character of the figures contributes greatly to the charm of this piece. The clean, sharp rendering of the millefleurs enhances the decorative effect. The piece is probably the work of a small provincial loom. [Sidenote: 11] FRANCE, PROBABLY LA MARCHE, BEGINNING XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 5 _ft._ 7 _in._ W. 9 _ft._ 4 _in._ ] MILLEFLEURS WITH ANIMALS: _Against a large-scale millefleurs ground on blue, deer are playing about a fountain within a paddock. On a fence-post perches a peacock. Outside the fence a fox waits, watching slyly. In the background conventional castles._ [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] The floreation is rather unusual, as it shows the transition from the Gothic millefleurs to the Renaissance verdure. The enlarged scale of the flowers and the use of the iris and the scrolled thistle-leaves in the foreground show the influence of the Renaissance, but the daisies and wild roses are still Gothic in feeling, as are the unusually charming and vivacious deer. The conventional rendering of the water is skillfully managed. The sly fox is especially well characterized. [Illustration: _Millefleurs with Shepherds and the Shield of the Rigaut Family_ No. 10 ] [Illustration: _Pastoral Scene_ No. 13 ] [Sidenote: 12] FRANCE, PROBABLY LA MARCHE, EARLY XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 4 _ft._ 5 _in._ W. 9 _ft._ 5 _in._ ] MILLEFLEURS WITH ANIMALS: _Millefleurs with animals on a blue ground. At the top a narrow strip of conventionalized hilly landscape._ [Sidenote: Lent by _Dikran K. Kelekian_.] Many tapestries of this type were woven in France at the end of the XVth and beginning of the XVIth century. They are one of the most successful types of tapestry decoration, the quaint animals in this piece being especially charming, and one of the most generally useful kinds of wall decoration, so that the demand for them was large and continuous. As a result, the style was produced almost without modification for over a hundred years. Only the bit of landscape at the top indicates that this was woven in the beginning of the XVIth century and not in the middle of the XVth. [Sidenote: 13] FRANCE, LATE XV CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 9 _ft._ 6 _in._ W. 9 _ft._ ] PASTORAL SCENE: _Two ladies have strolled into the country with their lords, who are on the way to the hunt, one with a falcon and the other with a spear and dog. On the way they have stopped to talk to a group of peasants who are tending their flocks and to play with their children. One young peasant girl is gathering a basket of grapes._ Such peasant scenes as this were much in demand during the XVth century. A piece very similar both in general spirit and in detailed drawing and facial types is in the Musée des Arts Decoratifs. In this two lords are watching a large group of woodcutters. [Sidenote: Formerly in the De Zolte Collection.] The piece is an excellent illustration of the clarity of French design. Each figure stands out almost entirely detached against the background. Yet, nevertheless, the naturalness of the grouping is not sacrificed. The piece conveys extraordinarily the impression of a real scene, a common daily occurrence among people that we might reasonably expect to know, at which we are allowed to be present in spite of the intervening four hundred years. [Sidenote: Lent by _Duveen Brothers_.] Some of the tricks of drawing and the types portrayed are so very similar to those in some of the stained-glass windows of St. Etienne du Mont and of St. Germain-l'Auxerrois the cartoons must be by members of the same school, one of the groups of l'Ile de France, and may quite possibly be by the same man. [Sidenote: 14-16] FLANDERS, FIRST QUARTER XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ No. 14: H. 11 _ft._ 6 _in._ W. 14 _ft._ 2 _in._ ] [Sidenote: No. 15: H. 10 _ft._ 9 _in._ W. 7 _ft._ 3½ _in._ No. 16: H. 11 _ft._ W. 10 _ft._ 5 _in._ ] THREE PIECES FROM A SERIES ILLUSTRATING THE CREED: _This series of scenes illustrating the Creed begins_ (_No._ 14) _with the Creation of the World_. _The designer, evidently with some allegorical poem in mind, includes in the scene Sapientia, Potencia, and Benignitas, depicted, in characteristic medieval form, as three richly dressed women. In the center scene these three offer the world to God. On the right, Gubernacio, Redempcio, and Caritas stand under the throne of the Trinity._ _In the second piece_ (_No._ 15) _the series continues with the Life of Christ_, _beginning with the Annunciation_, _the Nativity_, _and the Adoration of the Kings_. _Reverting to the older tradition of the XIVth century that had been almost displaced during the XVth century_, _all the events of Christ's public life are omitted_, _and the third piece_ (_No._ 16) _depicts the scenes of the Passion_, _including the popular interpolation of Christ's farewell to his Mother_, _with the Apostles in the background_, _the Resurrection_, _and finally Christ taking his place at the right hand of God while the angels sing hosannas_. _Below, throughout the series, is the set of the Apostles facing Prophets, symbolic of the parallelism of the Old and New Testaments, each with a scroll bearing his speech in the conventional responses depicted in so many works of art of the period. So Peter (No. 14), says, "I believe in God the Father Omnipotent," and Jeremiah, who faces him, replies, "You invoke the Father who made the earth and builded the heavens."_ _Next_ (_No._ 15) _comes Andrew_, _who originally faced David_, _a figure now missing_. _The next pair, John and Daniel, is also missing._ _There follow_ (_No._ 16) _Thomas_, _who originally faced Hosea_, _and John the Lesser_, _who is opposite Amos_. _Above_, _on either side of the Nativity_ (_No._ 15), _is introduced another pair_, _John the Greater and Isaiah_. The complete piece, of which number 16 is the right-hand end, was formerly in the Toledo Cathedral, then in the collection of Asher Wertheimer, of London. The present owner is unknown.[9] Another rendition was in the Vatican, but disappeared in the middle of the XIXth century.[10] Tapestries illustrating the Creed were common throughout the Middle Ages. They appear frequently in XIVth-century inventories, and a number of examples from the XVth and early XVIth century are left to us. The Apostles and Prophets arranged in pairs are a common feature of this type of tapestry. [Sidenote: Formerly in Evora Palace, Portugal.] The cartoons are evidently the work of the painter who painted the ceiling of the Church of St. Guy at Naarden, whom Dr. Six tentatively identifies as Albert Claesz.[11] The similarity is too close to be overlooked. The Christ of the Naarden _Resurrection_[12] and this _Resurrection_ are almost identical, the face of God the Father in the _Assumption_ is almost identical with that of an onlooker in the Naarden _Betrayal_,[13] and Adam in the first piece of this series closely resembles the Christ of the Naarden _Flagellation_.[14] But more indicative are the lesser peculiarities common to both series. There are in both the same curiously flattened and slightly distorted skulls with very large ears, the same large eyes with heavy arched lids and eyebrows close above them, oblique and not quite correctly placed in the three-quarter views, and always looking beyond their focus. The mouths, too, in some of the faces are overemphasized in the same way, and the feet have the same quaint distortion, being seen from above, as in the figure of the Prophet John (No. 15). And in very conspicuous minor agreement, the cross has a strongly indicated and rigidly conventionalized graining identical in the two renditions. The attitude of the Christ and the indication of the garment in the Toledo tapestry is very close to that in the Naarden painting. [Illustration: _The Creation of the World_ No. 14 ] [Illustration: _Four Scenes from the Life of Christ_ No. 17 ] The floreation was probably introduced by the weaver. The delightfully exact scene of the owl scolded by a magpie, while a pigeon sits near by and another bird flutters about (No. 14), is repeated with slight variations in a number of XVIth-century pieces. [Sidenote: Lent by _Demotte_.] The drawing in these tapestries is rather unusually primitive for pieces of this period, but the figures have a broad monumental character and a direct sincerity of bearing that make them very convincing. [Sidenote: 17-19] FLANDERS, PROBABLY BRUSSELS, BEGINNING XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ No. 17: H. 11 _ft._ 10 _in._ W. 17 _ft._ 6 _in._ No. 18: H. 11 _ft._ 7 _in._ W. 7 _ft._ 5 _in._ No. 19: H. 12 _ft._ W. 26 _ft._ ] THREE PIECES FROM A SERIES ILLUSTRATING THE CREED: _In the first piece_ (_No._ 17) _four scenes from the Life of Christ are portrayed: the Adoration of the Kings_, _the Presentation at the Temple_, _the meeting of Christ and John_, _and Christ among the Doctors_. _In the corner sits a prophet, probably David. The piece undoubtedly began with the Nativity, at the left, and possibly the Annunciation, with the Apostle Andrew in the other corner. This would indicate that the piece was the second in the series, the first probably having been the Creation of the Earth, with Peter and Jeremiah._ _The second piece_ (_No._ 18) _shows the Circumcision and the Assumption of the Virgin_, _and evidently included at least one more scene at the right_. [Sidenote: _The Last Judgment_ was formerly in the Evora Palace, Portugal, and is illustrated from the Louvre example in _Migeon, Les Arts de Tissu_, p. 220; in part, in _E. Mâle, L'Art religieux de la fin du Moyen Age en France_, p. 501; _Burlington_, vol. 20, p. 9; _Figaro Illustré_, 1911.] _The third piece_ (_No._ 19) _shows the full scene of the Last Judgment with a personage who seems to be Philip in one corner and in the other Zephaniah_. _The piece is complete except, possibly, for a border. A tapestry from the same cartoon with a narrow border of flowers is in the Louvre. Christ, enthroned, is surrounded by the Virgin, Saint John, and the eleven Apostles. Angels, bearing instruments of the Passion and sounding trumpets flutter through the sky. At the right of the throne angels come bearing crowns for the elect. Below the dead are rising from the graves. Before the throne of Christ Justice bearing a sword and Pity bearing a lily come to punish the Seven Deadly Sins, Pride, Avarice, Luxury, Greed, Anger, Envy, and Laziness, an episode adopted from the Mystery Plays. On the border of the robe of the Virgin appear the letters WOL and on the border of the robe of the last Apostle at Christ's left the letters RIM DACI BAPTISTA ORADI._ [Sidenote: _The Circumcision and Assumption_ is illustrated in _Demotte, Les Tapisseries gothiques_, Première Série, pl. 39.] Seven other large tapestries very closely related to these are known. They represent various episodes involving Christ and numerous allegorical figures that have not been identified. Three of these are in the collection of Baron de Zuylen du Nyevelt de Haar, two in the Burgos Cathedral, and two others have passed into private collections and been lost sight of.[15] Another smaller piece, apparently of the same series, was number X in the Morgan Collection. Three duplicates are also in Hampton Court. The series is closely related also to the _Life of the Virgin_ set in the Royal Collection at Madrid, and also the _Presentation in the Temple_ of the Martin le Roy Collection. The cartoons are clearly the work of Maître Philippe, and the weaving was evidently done in Flanders, probably in Brussels, about 1510. Marquet de Vasselot suggests that the cartoons of the Martin le Roy piece and of the Madrid series were done after a second master under the influence of Gerard David.[16] Destrée, following Wauters, suggests Jean de Bruxelles, known author of the cartoon for the _Communion of Herkenbald_, another Maître Philippe piece, to which he sees a resemblance,[17] and Thièry repeats the claim, but on far-fetched evidence.[18] Certainly the types are very close to those of Gerard David. Some of the figures on David's _Tree of Mary_ in the Lyons Museum[19] are repeated almost exactly, and some of the female figures are very like the Saint in the _Marriage of Catherine_ in the San Luca Academy at Rome.[20] But other types, such as Zacharias in the meeting of Christ and John, are more reminiscent of Hugo Van der Goes, being, for instance, almost identical with Joseph of Arimathea in the _Descent from the Cross_ in the National Museum, Naples,[21] even to such details as the drawing and placing of the ear. The glimpses of landscapes, too, are clearly derived from Hugo in their composition and details, and even the floreations are close to those in some of Hugo's work, notably the _Original Sin_ in the Imperial Gallery of Vienna,[22] where one finds the same upspringing sheaf of iris. The work would seem to be that of a lesser eclectic, such as the author of the _Life of Mary_ in the Bishops' Palace at Evora. [Sidenote: Lent by _Demotte_.] In all the pieces there are intense sincerity and real grandeur of design. The _Last Judgment_, in the musical swinging together of the draperies, the perfect control of the great composition, and in the fine development of the dominance of Christ without sacrifice of the minor episodes, as well as in the power of expression of the thrilling solemnity of the moment, deserves to rank with the greatest interpretations of the subject. [Sidenote: 20] BRUSSELS, BEGINNING OF XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 12 _ft._ 3 _in._ W. 13 _ft._ 2 _in._ ] SCENES FROM A ROMANCE: _A queen surrounded by her court awaits the preparation of a document. There is a general interchange of documents among the courtiers at the right. In the background, upper left, a knight indites a letter, and on the opposite side two knights wait on horseback. The scenes illustrate some contemporary_ _romance and are closely related to the Court of Love tapestries that were so often woven at this time._ [Sidenote: Formerly in the Morgan Collection.] [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] The cartoon, like those of the _Court of Love_ scenes, is the work of the studio of Maître Philippe. Jean Van Room probably collaborated, as his signature appears on a very similar tapestry of _David and Bathsheba_ in the Royal Spanish Collection.[23] As in that tapestry, the elegantly dressed persons are quite typical of the prosperous burghers of the time and might well be used as fashion plates. The composition is skillful in the balancing of the groups and the massing of the drapes to form a support for the dominant figure of the queen. [Sidenote: 21] BRUSSELS, EARLY XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: H. 13 _ft._ 9 _in._ W. 22 _ft._ 1 _in._ ] [Sidenote: Barberini Collection; Ffoulke Collection. Illustrated: _Ffoulke Collection_, opp. p. 43. Exhibited: _Exposition d'Art ancien bruxellois, Brussels_, 1905, No. XXI. Illustrated: _Destrée, Catalogue of same_, pl. XXIV.] THE TRIUMPH OF DAVID: _David carrying the head of Goliath on his sword and surrounded by musicians is followed by King Saul and Jonathan on horseback. In the background a hilly landscape with the tents of the Hebrews. A narrow floral border._ The cartoon was painted by Jean Van Room, his signature appearing on another piece[24] of the same series in the Musée du Cinquantenaire, Brussels. Maître Philippe must have collaborated with him in this work, for a strong Italian influence is evident which appears only in the Van Room tapestries that have had Philippe's assistance. [Sidenote: Lent by _Mrs. Wm. C. Van Antwerp_.] Though the drawing and details show the incoming Renaissance influence, the full continuous narrative arrangement of the group, the strong vertical lines of the figures, and the simple modeling show the tarrying Gothic feeling. The groups are beautifully massed and the individual figures show great dignity. [Sidenote: 22] SWITZERLAND, EARLY XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 4 _ft._ 3½ _in._ W. 7 _ft._ 9½ _in._ ] TWO PAIRS OF LOVERS: _Two pairs of lovers are pictured against a background of vines with blue-green scrolled leaves and large red and yellow blossoms on a dark-blue field. The pair at the right is on either side of a Gothic pedestal on which is a small statue. The ladies are in red robes. One man is in a blue doublet, the other in a two-toned red brocaded cloak. Border of rose-vines and daisies._ [Sidenote: Formerly in the Collection of Comtesse Desautoy.] The piece was probably woven in Basle, and is undoubtedly adapted from a wood-block illustration in one of Leonhard Ysenmuth's publications. The width and richness of the border indicate that it was done in the early XVIth rather than in the late XVth century. The subject of pairs of lovers was quite a favorite one with German and Swiss weavers, and a number of them in different styles is left to us. The piece is probably the work of an amateur, a nun, or more probably some lady, who thus filled her long leisure hours. The wood-block print has been closely followed for the figures, even to such minor details as the very simple conventionalization of the hair. The vine background in rather a large scale is common to many Swiss tapestries of the period. The limited range of colors used is especially worthy of note, there being only three shades of blue, three of green-blue, three of tan, and two of red, in addition to the black for the outlines. [Sidenote: Lent by _Wildenstein & Co._] The work is thoroughly naïve, but it has the strong appeal of genuineness and directness common to naïve designs and shows a strong feeling for decorative quality. [Sidenote: 23-25] BRUSSELS, SECOND QUARTER XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool, Silk, Gold._ No. 23: H. 13 _ft._ 5 _in._ W. 15 _ft._ 4 _in._ No. 24: H. 13 _ft._ 5 _in._ W. 20 _ft._ No. 25: H. 13 _ft._ 5 _in._ W. 20 _ft._ ] THREE SCENES FROM THE DEEDS OF SCIPIO: _In the first piece_ (_No._ 23) _Scipio enthroned offers the mural crown to Caius Laelius_. _Roman army officers stand about. In the background the army is assembled._ _In the second piece_ (_No._ 24) _Scipio is about to land in Africa_. _In the foreground two vessels filled with soldiers. In the background the city of Utica._ _In the third piece_ (_No._ 25) _Hannibal approaches Scipio to sue for peace_. _In the background the opposing armies face each other on either side of a river._ The pieces bear the Brussels city mark and the monogram H.M. (Hubert de Mecht). The cartoons are attributed to Giulio Romano, fifteen of the original small drawings being in the Louvre. There are in all eighteen pieces in this set, and two subsequent sets, the _Triumphs of Scipio_ and the _Fruits of War_, make a total of thirty-five pieces in the complete history, one of the largest sequences ever attempted in tapestry. [Sidenote: Illustrated: _Hauser y Menet, Los Tapices de la Corona de España_, vol. 2, pl. 93; _Burlington_, 1916, pp. 58-66, in connection with article by George Leland Hunter, _Scipio Tapestries Now in America_.] The cartoons have been woven a number of times and examples have been included in many famous collections, including that of Francis I. These pieces were so rich in gold that they were burned to obtain the metal during the Revolution. These three pieces are from one of the earliest weavings, and in perfection of execution and sumptuousness of material far surpass most of the renderings, ranking with the greatest productions of the early Renaissance. The use of the metal is particularly effective, occurring as it does in three techniques, plain weaving, basket weaving, which always gives a heavy richness, and couching. The borders with the classical allegorical figures under porticos are of a very fine type, following the example set by Raphael in his panels for the _Acts of the Apostles_. [Sidenote: Lent by _Duveen Brothers_.] For vividness of illustration, strength and clarity of silhouette, and delicacy and freshness of color this set is nowhere surpassed. [Illustration: _The Triumph of David_ No. 21 ] [Illustration: _Two Pairs of Lovers_ No. 22 ] [Sidenote: 26, 27] BRUSSELS, XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ No. 26: H. 12 _ft._ W. 15 _ft._ No. 27: H. 12 _ft._ W. 16 _ft._ ] TWO SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF CYRUS: _In the first_ (_No._ 26) _Cyrus captures Astyages_, _his grandfather_. _Soldiers stand about, and in the background the army is assembled._ _In the second_ (_No._ 27) _Thomyris has the head of Cyrus offered as a human sacrifice_. _An attendant is placing the head in a gold basin and soldiers standing about draw back in horror. In the background a battle wages._ [Sidenote: Illustrated: _Hauser y Menet, Los Tapices de la Corona de España_, vol. 2, pls. 119, 121.] These two pieces, showing the moment of greatest triumph and the ultimate defeat of Cyrus, the great world conqueror, are from a famous set that has been woven several times. One of these sets, belonging to the royal family of France, was used in the funeral service of Francis II. Another group from the series is in the Royal Spanish Collection. The only set known with a weaver's signature bears the mark of Nicolas Leyniers, and it is entirely probable that all of the examples, including these two, are from those looms. [Sidenote: Lent by _Mr. & Mrs. Daniel C. Jackling_.] They are very fine examples of a type of design perfected in the first half of the XVIth century in Brussels. The fullness of details in the background serves to keep the textile rich and interesting and to throw into sharp silhouette the dominant figures. The intricate and decorative borders that are used on these pieces well illustrate one of the most important contributions of the Renaissance to tapestry design. [Sidenote: 28] BRUSSELS, XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 8 _ft._ 10 _in._ W. 7 _ft._ 2 _in._ ] THE PENTECOST: _The Apostles and the members of the Early Church are gathered together. The tongues of fire descend upon them, and the Holy Ghost appears like a dove between the figures of God and Jesus revealed above. A wide border of scroll with inset medallions of biblical scenes. In the upper border a papal coat of arms._ [Sidenote: Lent by _William Baumgarten & Company_.] Renaissance tapestries in so intimate a scale that yet are not miniature occur rather seldom. The piece has great clarity and brilliance and carries forcefully the religious feeling of the episode. In the selvage the Brussels city mark and the weaver's initials, C. S. The mark is unidentified. [Sidenote: 29] BRUSSELS, XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 6 _ft._ 9 _in._ W. 13 _ft._ 8 _in._ ] JUDITH DEPARTS FOR THE ENEMY'S CAMP: _Judith accompanied by her maid takes leave of her mother. Attendants await to lead her away and a slave awaits in the background holding two camels. Wide border of fruits and flowers._ [Sidenote: Lent by _William Baumgarten & Company_.] This is one of a very famous set of the _Story of Judith and Holofernes_, examples of which are in a number of famous collections. The tapestry bears on the selvage the Brussels city mark and the weaver's monogram, N. X. The mark is unidentified. This piece is a strong example of a set that combines characteristic Renaissance stateliness with a less customary direct charm. [Sidenote: 30] BRUSSELS, MIDDLE XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 11 _ft._ 3 _in._ W. 12 _ft._ 9 _in._ ] GARDEN SCENE: _Through a trellis upheld by caryatides a formal garden with fountains and pavilions is seen. In the foreground, deer. In the garden, various animals. Border of scrolls and flowers with inset cartouches showing animals._ Such trellis designs as this were quite often used in the middle of the XVIth century. A famous example very similar to this is the _Vertumnus and Pomona_ set, one of which was in the Palace of the Escurial and two in the Barberini Collection.[25] Another piece so like this that it must be the work of the same designer is in the Vienna Collection, number 142. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] It is a rich and resourceful kind of decoration well fitted to the requirements of tapestry. The drawing of the deer is unusually graceful and vivacious. [Sidenote: 31] FLANDERS, XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 5 _ft._ 9 _in._ W. 12 _ft._ 9 _in._ ] VERDURE: _In the center a château surrounded by a moat on which swans and ducks swim about. At the left fishermen on the bank and a hunter with his dogs. On the right mounted hunters chasing rabbits through a wood._ [Sidenote: Lent by _Mrs. William H. Crocker_.] The high-keyed landscape on a small scale was the Renaissance successor to the Gothic millefleurs. The drawing in this piece is beautifully clean and exact, and the color delightfully and uncommonly varied and vibrant. The château is so carefully rendered that it is valuable as an architectural record. The piece may have been made by Flemish weavers working in England. [Sidenote: 32] FLANDERS, LATE XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 9 _ft._ W. 23 _ft._ ] HUNTING SCENE: _Hunters riding through a woodland. In the foreground a knight and lady strolling. Scroll border._ [Sidenote: Lent by _W. & J. Sloane_.] This piece is a rather uncommon variation of a familiar type. Many tapestries were woven in Flanders in the second part of the XVIth century that were predominantly verdure with a few minor figures, but the figures were seldom as delicately drawn nor the colors so high in key and clear. It is quite possible that the piece was woven by Flemish weavers in England, a few pieces woven there by the Poyntz family being known to have somewhat the same quality. The relatively low height in proportion to the great length also suggests that it was made for an English house. [Illustration: _Hannibal Approaches Scipio to Sue for Peace_ No. 25 ] [Illustration: _Cyrus Captures Astyages, His Grandfather_ No. 26 ] [Sidenote: 33] FLANDERS, ENGHIEN (?), XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 9 _ft._ 7 _in._ W. 7 _ft._ 9 _in._ ] VERDURE: _Large scrolling leaves, bluish-green, with bunches of fruit and flowers and small finches. Wide border of fruit and flowers._ Verdures of this type were very much in demand in the Renaissance period. They are typical of the decorative manner of the time and one of its finest inventions. [Sidenote: Lent by _Dikran K. Kelekian_.] The heavy, simple leaves are often too obvious and too readily explored for the best tapestry decoration; but in this piece the beautifully drawn birds provide delicacy and interest of detail. [Sidenote: 34] BRUGES, MIDDLE XVI CENTURY (1556) [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 9 _ft._ 1 _in._ W. 8 _ft._ 9 _in._ ] ARMORIAL: _Two amorini support a shield. Above, crossed banners; below, dolphins. Six flags radiate from the shield, each bearing the initial P surmounted by a crown. Border of scrolls and classic figures._ _In cartouches in the side and lower borders the initials F_, _G_, _and X respectively_, _and in the corresponding cartouche of the top border the date_, 1556. _On the right lower selvage is the city mark of Bruges, with the weaver's monogram, A. F._[26] [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] This tapestry is very interesting, not only because it is a clear, strong example of a Renaissance heraldic hanging, but because very few pieces of the period can be ascribed definitely to Bruges although it is known that important looms flourished there. The weaver's monogram has not been identified. The coat of arms, which is also unidentified, seems to be Spanish, and judging by the coronet evidently belonged to a family of high station. The amorini are after a follower of Giulio Romano, if not by Romano himself. The relief effect of the design is quite extraordinary. [Sidenote: 35] BRUSSELS, XVI CENTURY (1574) [Sidenote: _Wool, Silk, Gold._ H. with frame, 4 _ft._ W. with frame, 3 _ft._ 9 _in._ ] THE CRUCIFIXION: _Christ and the two thieves on the crosses. In the foreground, right, the Roman soldiers; left, the sorrowing Marys. Floral border._ _Dated in cartouche in the border_, 1574. This is one of a number of small tapestries in silk and gold of religious subjects, most of which have been attributed to Bernard Van Orley, who probably designed this piece also. They are all of them very exact reproductions of paintings, remarkable in weave and very beautiful in color. The type was first woven in the first quarter of the XVIth century, and continued to be produced in very limited numbers until well into the XVIIth century. They were undoubtedly woven only for special orders--probably for private chapels. The piece is a very brilliant example of one of the richest types of tapestry that has ever been woven. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] Bernard Van Orley (1492-5 to 1540) was trained by his father, Valentin, and afterwards studied under Raphael in Italy. He was engaged to supervise the translation of Raphael's cartoons for the famous series of the _Apostles_ into tapestry. In 1518 he became court painter. He designed many tapestries, of which the most famous are the _Hunts of Maximilian_ and the _Victory of Pavia_ series. [Sidenote: 36] FONTAINEBLEAU, MIDDLE XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 11 _ft._ W. 17 _ft._ ] GROTESQUES: _On a red ground, grotesques, of which the principal features are: in the center Flora in an arbor on the top of which stands Atlas upholding the world; two cartouches left and two right with candelabra and various deities. Below at the left in a small oval medallion Leda and the Swan, and in the corresponding medallion on the other side Eve and the Serpent. The remaining spaces are filled with amorini, garlands of fruit and flowers, gods, and various ornaments. Narrow floral borders, and in the center of both side borders a triangle._ The triangles in the border are the Deltas, the ciphers of Diane de Poitiers, indicating that this piece was woven in the reign of Henry II for Diane, possibly for the Château d'Anet. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] For fertile and varied imagination this piece is quite uncommon even among grotesques, the most imaginative type of decorative tapestries. It exhibits a most entertaining sense of humor and shows a capricious independence never found in the more formal Flemish grotesques of the time. [Sidenote: 37] FONTAINEBLEAU, MIDDLE XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 12 _ft._ 8 _in._ W. 8 _ft._ ] TRIUMPH OF DIANA: _The goddess in a blue robe, bearing her bow and arrows, drives a pale-blue chariot on which a nymph is tied prisoner. Love, whose wings are beautifully multicolored, also is a prisoner. Diana's attendants, garbed in blue and red tunics, follow on foot, one in the foreground in a green tunic leading a large grey-hound. In the border shells alternate with crescents on a blue ground and in the corners above are crescents and rams' heads. The mottoes "Non Frusta Jupiter Am Bas" and "Sic Immota Manet" are in the upper and lower borders respectively._[27] The tapestry was evidently made for Diane de Poitiers, mistress of Henry II, the subject being chosen as a personal tribute. [Sidenote: Formerly in the Collection of Edouard Kann, Paris.] Aside from its evident beauty, the piece is important because it is one of the few remaining examples of the work of the Fontainebleau looms, which adapted to tapestry the characteristic Italian-French Renaissance decoration that was formulated in the frescoes of Fontainebleau. There are few documents left on these looms, but it is known that le Primatice made designs for tapestries woven there, and, judging from the drawing of the figures with the long limbs and heavily marked muscles that reflect the influence of Michael Angelo, and the contour of the small heads with the hair flowing back and the classical features, together with such other details as the long flexible fingers, this piece would seem to be an example of his work. If not by le Primatice, it was certainly done directly under his influence; but it could scarcely be by Baudouin, judging from the recently discovered set in the Viennese exhibition,[28] for it has more poise and clarity of space than any of those tapestries. [Illustration: _The Crucifixion_ No. 35 ] [Illustration: Grotesques No. 36] For grace and charm, without any loss of strength, this surpasses most French work of the period. It is an unusually typical illustration of the French Renaissance which took the technique of the Italian revival of the antique and refashioned it to her own spirit, giving the classic goddesses, even in their dignity, youthful and feminine appeal, and refining the Italian opulence. The floreation in the foreground is as delicate as in a XVIth-century millefleurs, and the colors are unusually luminous. [Sidenote: Lent by _Wildenstein & Company_.] Francesco Primaticcio (1504-1570) studied under a disciple of Raphael and worked with Giulio Romano on the decorations of the Palace de Te, Mantua. In 1532 he went from Italy to Fontainebleau to work on the decorations there. In 1540 he returned to Italy to collect works of art for the king. He returned to France and continued to create decorations at Fontainebleau with a large staff of Italian painters as his collaborators. Under Francis II he became Superintendent of the Building. [Sidenote: 38] PARIS, EARLY XVII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 13 _ft._ W. 16 _ft._ 9 _in._ ] THE NIOBIDES: _Apollo and Artemis from a cloud shoot down the children of Niobe, thus avenging their mother, who had been outraged by Niobe's boasting that she had the more children. Border of fruit garlands and figures in camaieux._ [Sidenote: Formerly in Marnier-Lapostalle Collection, Paris.] [Sidenote: Reproduced: _Guiffrey, Les Gobelins et Beauvais_, p. 15; _Hauser y Menet, Los Tapices de la Corona de España_, vol. 2, pl. 132.] The tapestry is one of the Artemis series designed for Marie de Medici by Toussaint du Breuil. It was woven on the looms which were under the direction of Marc Comans and François de la Planche, and which later became the Gobelins state manufactory. The cartoons were repeated many times with different borders. Judging by the border, this piece was woven about 1611. The piece is a splendid example of the dramatic and monumental character of the productions of the pre-Gobelins looms. The sensitive feeling for decorative fitness and the reserve that are evident in French designs from the Gothic period on differentiate such a cartoon as this from the contemporary Flemish productions, usually so violent and exaggerated in scale, in drawing, and in emotional expression. For, though dramatic, the scene is restrained and the figures have an almost sculptural detachment. This quality is sustained by the fine architectural border, which is very typical of the Paris looms of this period. [Sidenote: Lent by _Jacques Seligmann & Company_.] Toussaint du Breuil (1561-1602) painted decorations in the Pavilions des Poêles at Fontainebleau, and also in the Galerie des Rois in the Louvre. Most of his work has perished. [Sidenote: 39, 40] GOBELINS, XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ No. 39: H. 7 _ft._ 9 _in._ W. 13 _ft._ 6 _in._ No. 40: H. 7 _ft._ 9 _in._ W. 11 _ft._ ] TWO SCENES FROM THE HISTORY OF CLEOPATRA: _In the first_ (_No._ 39) _Cleopatra attended by two maidens greets a young prince who is being introduced to her by a general_. _In the harbor the young stranger's ship is seen._ _In the second_ (_No._ 40) _Cleopatra welcomes a young man_. _An attendant holds a heavy canopy of silk. Beyond, a Greek temple is seen._ _Side borders, only, of classic decorations on a red ground with inset medallions showing the Judgment of Paris._ [Sidenote: Formerly in the Collection of Lord Lovelace.] The pieces both signed in the lower right corner--Lefébvre, with the fleur-de-lis and G. They do not, however, appear on the records of the Gobelins, so they must have been done by Lefébvre outside of the official work. [Sidenote: Lent by _William Baumgarten & Company_.] They are strong and fresh examples of the early work of the Gobelins weavers, and typical of the classicism of the late Renaissance in France. The requirements of mural decoration are met by the monumental character and sculptural poise of the figures, but at the same time the design is adapted to a decorative textile through the perfection of the detail and the richness of the colors. [Sidenote: 41] FLANDERS, BEGINNING OF XVII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 7 _ft._ 10 _in._ W. 13 _ft._ 4 _in._ ] VERDURE: _A formal garden with fountains and a château in the distance and various birds in the foreground._ [Sidenote: Lent by _Mrs. C. Templeton Crocker_.] Such landscape tapestries were a characteristic late Renaissance interpretation of the verdure type, a transition between the Gothic _millefleurs_, that were really originally landscapes without perspective (cf. No. 11), and the XVIIth-century verdures (cf. No. 43). It is a very successful form of verdure, for they are broadly effective from a distance and yet have a sufficient wealth of detail to yield interest on closer exploration. The birds in this piece are especially carefully observed and well drawn, and the purity and vivacity of the color is exceptional for this type. [Sidenote: 42] BRUSSELS, LATE XVII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 13 _ft._ W. 12 _ft._ ] AMERICA: _In a tropical landscape an Indian with bow and arrows caressing a crocodile. Two children beside him smoking pipes. In the background on a hill a mission; in the foreground a heap of fruits and flowers and precious objects symbolic of the wealth of the New World. Border of fruits and flowers with corner medallions representing North, East, South, and West. On the lower selvage the Brussels city mark and the signature, I. V. D. BEURCHT._ [Sidenote: Another example in Musée Impériale des Ecuries, Petrograd, No. 117.] The piece is one of a set of four representing the four quarters of the globe. It was woven by Jean Van der Beurcht, one of the great weavers of Brussels, who is known to have been working there between 1690 and 1710. The Van der Beurcht family had for several generations been painters, Jean being the first to turn from that profession to tapestry weaving. He was followed by several other members of the family (cf. No. 56), all of whom did work of the highest quality. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] The piece is a splendid illustration of the romantic attitude toward America at the time and a reminder of the importance America had to Europeans as a source of wealth. The mission on the hill, and another mission settlement in the valley of which a glimpse can be caught, are of especial interest. [Sidenote: 43] FLANDERS, XVII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 11 _ft._ 10 _in._ W. 11 _ft._ ] VERDURE WITH BEAR HUNT: _In a forest of large trees hunters shooting and spearing bears. In place of a border, large columns at the sides with floral garlands hung between them across the top._ The piece is a type of verdure, numbers of which with many variations were produced in Flanders during the XVIIth century. It is one of a set of five, and is a very strong, fresh example. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] The substitution of massive columns for formal borders is characteristic of the Baroque period and serves the better to adapt the tapestry to the prevailing architecture. [Sidenote: 44] BRUSSELS, XVII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 11 _ft._ W. 18 _ft._ 8 _in._ ] [Sidenote: From the Morgan Collection, No. 17. Another example in the Swedish Royal Collection.] TRIUMPH OF AUGUSTUS AND LIVIA: _Caesar offers the crown of victory to Augustus, who kneels before him. He is surrounded by his attendants and his chariot waits in the background. The side borders are of flower-draped columns, top and bottom borders of fruit and flower garlands, with ornaments. On the side borders are cartouches bearing the insignia: Pax. Aug. and Vic. Aug. (Pax Augusta and Victoria Augusta)._ [Sidenote: Illustrated: _Böttiger, Svenska Statins Samling_, vol. 3, pl. XLII.] The piece is one of a series on the _History of Julius Caesar_, three of which were in the Morgan Collection. It has all the abundance and dramatic emphasis characteristic of the Baroque period. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] The massive yet active figures, the large folded, swinging drapes, the luxurious and heavy accessories are all typical of the work of a time when the large, the impressive, and the elaborate were sought in all forms of art. The manner was introduced into tapestry cartoons by Rubens and carried on by many of his pupils and imitators. Even the outline of the composition of this piece follows closely that of Rubens' famous _Triumphs_, from which the suggestion for the cartoon was undoubtedly taken. [Sidenote: 45] FLANDERS, XVII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool, Silk, Gold._ H. 3 _ft._ 1 _in._ W. 4 _ft._ ] THE VIRGIN AND CHILD: _The Virgin in a pale red gown with a dark-blue cloak falling about her is seated on the ground. The child holding a staff in the form of a cross sits on her knee. Beyond is a castle, and against the sky a high mountain. Wide floral border. The high lights are in gold._ This is a most exceptional piece of tapestry, evidently made to special order, probably for a private chapel, after an Italian Renaissance painting. The excessive fineness of the weave and the unstinted use of gold to render the high lights indicate that it was made for a person of wealth and importance. [Sidenote: Lent by _Duveen Brothers_.] The painting is faithfully and delicately reproduced and the border is remarkably rich and glowing. [Sidenote: 46] BRUSSELS, LATE XVII, EARLY XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 12 _ft._ W. 17 _ft._ 6 _in._ ] SANCHO IS TOSSED IN A BLANKET: _Sancho, following Don Quixote's example, has refused to pay the innkeeper, as that is against the tradition of knights-errant and their squires. So the clothmakers of Segovia and the needlemakers of Cordova who chance to be there toss him in a blanket, while Don Quixote sits without on his horse cursing lustily._ The piece is one of a set of illustrations of _Don Quixote_ after David Teniers the Younger. The scene has all the casual and convincing informality and boisterous good spirits for which Teniers' paintings are famous. It quite catches the spirit of the romance which it illustrates. The landscape vista is unusually lovely in color. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] David Teniers the Younger (1610-1694) was trained principally under his father, David the Elder, also famous for paintings of peasant episodes. In 1633 he became Master of the Guild of St. Lukes, and thereafter was Dean of the Guild and painter to the governor, Archduke Leopold William, a position which he continued to hold under the next governor, Don Juan of Austria. In 1663 he helped form the Antwerp Academy of Fine Arts. He painted innumerable pictures of peasant scenes, many of which have been rendered in tapestry. [Sidenote: 47, 48] BRUSSELS, XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ No. 47: H. 11 _ft._ W. 8 _ft._ 9 _in._ No. 48: H. 11 _ft._ W. 8 _ft._ 9 _in._ ] TWO PEASANT SCENES: _In the first_ (_No._ 47) _a group of peasants has stopped to rest and talk beside a stream that comes tumbling down in broken cascades beneath a high stone bridge. On the hills in the background are farmhouses and the ruins of castles_. _In the second_ (_No._ 48) _a group of peasants sits and stands about under a tree in a meadow_, _in which cattle and goats wander._ _In the background is a farmhouse._ [Sidenote: Lent by _Duveen Brothers_.] These tapestries after Teniers are typical of his illustrations of life among the peasants and of his decorative and romantic yet realistic landscapes. They are in weaving and color of the best quality of examples of this type. [Illustration: _Triumph of Diana_ No. 37 ] [Illustration: _The Niobides_ No. 38 ] [Sidenote: 49] MORTLAKE, LATE XVII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 10 _ft._ 4 _in._ W. 7 _ft._ 6 _in._ ] PEASANTS IN A LANDSCAPE: _A group of peasants has stopped by the wayside in a mountainous landscape. Above is a shield bearing the inscription "Iocatur in Parvis sorts ut cum Magna Mercede Fallat."_ [Sidenote: Formerly in the Collection of Sir John Ramsay.] The cartoon is after Teniers. The Mortlake renditions of these cartoons, which were borrowed from Flanders, have a clarity and sharpness that give them marked distinction. The towering mountain landscape is really impressive. [Sidenote: Lent by _Frank Partridge, Inc._] The rendition of the water is unusually realistic without any loss of decorative interest. The translation of water into a woven design is one of the most difficult problems of the craft. It has been given many solutions, of which this is the most naturalistic. [Sidenote: 50] BEAUVAIS, LATE XVII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 10 _ft._ W. 8 _ft._ 8 _in._ ] HERMES AND THE SHEPHERD: _Hermes has taken the Shepherd's pipe, leaving the caduceus on the ground, and is attempting to play. They are in a wood with large flowers in the foreground. In the background there is a glimpse of a hilly landscape and a formal garden with fountains. Wide floral border._ [Sidenote: Lent by _Mrs. James Creelman_.] The piece is one of a set of five verdures, most of which have hunting scenes. While there is no signature, and there are no records on them, the character of the foliage and of the floreation makes it almost certain that these are of Beauvais manufacture. While in some details they resemble contemporary Aubusson tapestries, the quality of the color is rather different. They are a particularly deep and quiet type of verdure, an excellent background for fine furnishings. The quality of the greens is uncommonly fine. [Sidenote: 51] BEAUVAIS, BEGINNING OF XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 10 _ft._ 9 _in._ W. 13 _ft._ 3 _in._ ] VERDURE WITH DANCING NYMPHS: _In a wooded dell are four nymphs dancing. Beyond is a glimpse of an open pasture with cows._ [Sidenote: Lent by _Dikran K. Kelekian_.] The strong and brilliant trees throw into sharp contrast the delicate perfection of the bit of landscape beyond. The nymphs are probably after Noël Coypel. The use of the red to relieve the general tone of green is especially successful. [Sidenote: 52] BEAUVAIS, 1685-1711 [Sidenote: _Wool, Silk, Gold._ H. 15 _ft._ 8 _in._ W. 11 _ft._ 10 _in._ ] THE CONQUEST OF LOUIS THE GREAT: _Louis XIV on horseback with two attendants points with his cane to the siege of a city whose defenses are surrounded by water. In the upper border appear the arms of Count Bruhl of Saxony. The piece is one of a set of seven._ [Sidenote: Formerly in the Lord Amherst Collection.] [Sidenote: Illustrated: _Badin, La Manufacture de la Tapisserie de Beauvais_, opp. p. 4.] This is a very rare example from one of the earliest sets woven at Beauvais when the factory was under the direction of Behagle. The cartoon was designed either by Van der Meulen or his greatest pupil, Jean-Baptiste Martin, later called Martin of the Battles, because of a famous series of cartoons which he made for the Beauvais works illustrating the victories of Sweden over Denmark. The richness of the king's group stands out brilliantly against the clear, cool color and sharp geometrical lines of the background. The city with its canals and buildings is exquisitely rendered, an interesting anticipation of an aeroplane view. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] Adam Frans Van der Meulen (1632-1690) was a native of Brussels and studied there under Peter Snayers, but on recommendation of Le Brun was invited by Colbert to Paris, where he was pensioned by the king and given apartments in the Gobelins. In 1673 be was received into the Academy. He collaborated with Le Brun in making designs for the Gobelins, notably for the series of _The History of the King_. [Sidenote: 53-56] BRUSSELS, BEGINNING XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ No. 53: H. 10 _ft._ 7 _in._ W. 29 _ft._ No. 54: H. 10 _ft._ 4 _in._ W. 9 _ft._ 4 _in._ No. 55: H. 10 _ft._ 3½ _in._ W. 7 _ft._ 2 _in._ No. 56: H. 10 _ft._ 4½ _in._ W. 7 _ft._ 3 _in._ ] THE OPERATIONS OF THE SIEGE OF LILLE: _Number_ 53 _represents the battle of Wynendael Wood._ _Lord Cobham on horseback with his sword drawn is in the midst of his troops._ _Number_ 54 _shows the burning of Lille_. _The burning city is seen in the background. Soldiers in the foreground are getting bundles of wood to feed the flames._ _Number_ 55 _shows cavaliers foraging_. _Soldiers are carrying bundles of hay for their horses and a lamb lies on the ground ready to be carried off._ _Number_ 56 _shows the poisoning of a spy_. _The cavaliers have just given a glass of poisoned wine to a young woman who is about to drink._ _The borders simulate wooden frames and carry the arms of Lord Cobham._ [Sidenote: Formerly in Stowe House.] The set was designed by Van der Meulen for Lord Cobham, who served under the Duke of Marlborough and had a brilliant military career. It was woven at the Royal Manufactory of Brussels under the direction of Leyniers, whose signature appears in the border of three pieces. In the fourth piece is the signature ACASTRO, Latin for Van der Beurcht. Cobham inherited Stowe House in 1697, and these tapestries until recently hung in the dining-room there. [Sidenote: Lent by _Jacques Seligmann & Company_.] The set ranks with the strongest and most effective pieces of the period, rich both in illustrative action and in decoration. The weave is technically perfect. [Sidenote: 57] GOBELINS, MIDDLE XVIII CENTURY (1747-1751) [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 11 _ft._ 6 _in._ W. 8 _ft._ 3 _in._ ] JULY FROM THE "MONTHS" OF LUCAS: _From a series of designs of the Months, used in Brussels since the XVth century and attributed without verification to Lucas Van Leyden. The scene represents a falconing party._ [Illustration: _Scene from the History of Cleopatra_ No. 39 ] [Illustration: _Verdure_ No. 41 ] The piece has the last type of border used for the set, the so-called Dresden border, representing a carved and gilded wood frame with corner ornaments surrounded by naturalistic flowers, and with a sign of the Zodiac (Leo) in a cartouche at the top. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] The piece was probably woven in the tenth weaving between 1741 and 1751 on the upright looms in the atelier of Cozette.[29] This is an unusually clear and brilliant example of a famous Gobelins set. [Sidenote: 58] GOBELINS, XVII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 9 _ft._ 4 _in._ W. 6 _ft._ 8 _in._ ] DECEMBER FROM THE "MONTHS" OF LUCAS: _A nobleman greets a peasant woman and her child, while a man and woman carrying a baby wait for him. In the background a castle and people skating on the ice. The piece is incomplete._ [Sidenote: Another example in the Vienna Collection, No. 109.] This tapestry is from the same set as the preceding, but woven almost a century earlier, and it is interesting to contrast the changes that the change in taste has made in the feeling of the rendition and the color key. During the XVIIIth century the cartoon was refined with slight changes. The hand of the old man, for example, was modified to hold a fruit for the child. The piece probably is from the third or fourth weaving. If so, it was done on the horizontal looms in the atelier of Lefébvre, outside of the official work of the Gobelins.[30] [Sidenote: Lent by _Wildenstein & Company_.] This is one of the few really successful renditions of a snow scene in tapestry. [Sidenote: 59] BEAUVAIS, LATE XVII, EARLY XVIII CENTURY (1684-1711) [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 9 _ft._ 8 _in._ W. 16 _ft._ 5 _in._ ] CHINESE GROTESQUE: _Under an arbor clowns conduct a circus. Above the arbor are scrolls, garlands, birds, musical instruments, and other decorations. On a yellow ground._ This is one of a famous series of grotesques by Berain on a yellow ground, woven several times at the Beauvais works when they were under the direction of Behagle.[31] The entertaining fantasy of the conception, together with the delicate drawing and the beautiful ground color, makes this one of the finest grotesques of the XVIIIth century. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] Jean Berain (1638-1711) was appointed in 1674 designer to the king, and in this position designed the scenery and costumes for the court ballets. He is famous for his decorations. [Sidenote: 60, 61] BEAUVAIS, XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ No. 60: H. 15½ _in._ W. 19 _in._ No. 61: H. 15½ _in._ W. 19 _in._ ] TWO STILL-LIFE PIECES: _In one_ (_No._ 60) _a glass_, _a napkin_, _and some vegetables on a table_. _In the other_ (_No._ 61) _various vegetables about a china dish_. These panels, after paintings by Chardin, are the only recorded examples of still-life composition in tapestry. From the middle of the XVth century household utensils and various other types of accessories were used to contribute richness of ornamentation to scenes, and during the Baroque period embossed metals and lavish carvings became especially important in creating a luxurious effect, but not until tapestry was thought of as a form of painting was a purely still-life subject attempted. All still-life designs depend so much on contrasted weights, and especially on textures, that they are particularly difficult to translate into a medium which, like tapestry, renders primarily silhouettes and which has such a decided texture of its own. But the extraordinary skill of the XVIIIth-century French weavers was equal even to that problem. The skillful care of the composition of the original paintings and the pure beauty of the colors of the tapestry make of rather unpromising subjects beautiful decorations. [Sidenote: Lent by _Maison Jamarin, Paris_.] Jean Siméon Chardin (1699-1779) studied under Noël Coypel and assisted Jean Baptiste Van Loo in restoring one of the galleries of Fontainebleau. He was admitted to the Academy in 1728. His early work was devoted to still-life subjects principally, his later to peasant scenes, in which there are often fine incidental still lifes. [Sidenote: 62] AUBUSSON, MIDDLE XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 9 _ft._ 8 _in._ W. 10 _ft._ 9 _in._ ] THE PRIEST AND CARDENIO MEET DOROTHY: _The priest and the barber while looking for Don Quixote come across Cardenio. While Cardenio is telling them the sad story of how his love, Lucinda, has been stolen from him by the treachery of Don Fernando they hear someone lamenting. Following the sound of the voice, they find Dorothy disguised as a shepherd-boy bathing her feet in a stream. She is on her way to seek Don Fernando, who is her pledged husband and who has deserted her for Lucinda. In the background Don Quixote, exhausted and starved from his wanderings, lies on the ground, while the faithful Sancho pleads with him to return to Toboso._ _The border simulates a carved frame. On the lower selvage is the signature M. R. DAUBUSSON. MAGE. PICON._ The piece is one of a series of illustrations by Coypel, originally designed for the Gobelins, and was engraved and used in many editions of the romance both in France and Spain. Several looms made tapestries after the engravings, including those of Santa Barbara in Madrid. The signature is the mark of the royal manufacture of Aubusson, and of Mage, a tapestry merchant in Paris in 1746, and Picon, dyer to the king from 1748 to 1756. The piece was evidently made in the royal works of Aubusson to the order of the dealer Mage under the supervision of Picon, who, from his position, was evidently one of the most important members of the staff there. [Illustration: _Verdure with Dancing Nymphs_ No. 51 ] [Illustration: _The Conquest of Louis The Great_ No. 52 ] The piece shows Aubusson work at its richest and finest. The foliage of the trees with every leaf shown and broken up into small spots of changing color is very typical of Aubusson, and quite different from the manner of the Flemish shops (cf. No. 55). The colors are remarkably fine. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] Charles Antoine Coypel (1694-1752) entered the Academy in 1715, and the next year made a series of twenty-eight designs illustrating _Don Quixote_ for the Gobelins. A second important series which he designed for the Gobelins illustrated scenes from the theatre. He was a favorite painter of Queen Marie Leczinska. He wrote several comic dramas and had an interest in an understanding of the theatre which is reflected in his tapestry designs, which are conceived always as a theatrical scene in a stage setting, with actors making the proper expressive gestures. [Sidenote: 63] PARIS, XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ Oval; H. 28 _in._ W. 23 _in._ ] BACCHANTE: _A young bacchante wearing a tigerskin and holding Pan's pipes. In an oval panel._ This panel is after a portrait by Coypel. Though it does not appear on the official registers of the Gobelins, the technique would indicate that it was probably by a Gobelins weaver, who quite often worked outside of the official orders. [Sidenote: Lent by _Jacques Seligmann & Company_.] The delicate execution reproduces faithfully the piquant charm of the painting; even the most delicate gradations of tones are exactly reproduced. [Sidenote: 64.] GOBELINS, XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 25 _in._ W. 21 _in._ ] PORTRAIT OF LOUIS XV: _This portrait, after a painting by Van Loo made for the Gobelins in_ 1760, _is one of a series of the royal family. It is in the original frame_. [Sidenote: Illustrated: _Böttiger, Svenska Statins Samling_, vol. 2, pl. XLI; _Fénaille, Etat général des Tapisseries de la Manufacture des Gobelins, Dix-huitième Siècle_, 2me Partie, p. 311; as portrait of Louis XVI, in _Migeon, Les Arts de Tissu_, p. 335.] While tapestry is not an appropriate medium for portraiture, a portrait is the supreme test of the skill of the weaver. In this piece the effect of the painting is reproduced with remarkable fidelity. The warp is vertical. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] The technical difficulty was the greater because almost the entire piece was woven in wool, the proper material for tapestry, silk being relied on only for a few high lights. As a portrait it has directness and conviction, carrying the essential dignity of royalty. The XVIIIth century, which first undertook to weave tapestry portraits, produced a kind of portrait that was especially ill-adapted to this material; for the likenesses depended primarily on the delicate modeling produced by a very sensitively differentiated scale of values and scarcely at all on lines. Even in Gothic tapestries there are many heads that are striking portraits, but these are entirely graphic in character and so fitted for tapestry. In rendering this portrait the weavers had literally to paint with the shuttle. Carle Van Loo (1705-1756) studied in Rome under Luti and Le Gros. In his youth he painted scenery for the opera with Boucher. In 1737 he was admitted to the Academy, and in 1762 made first painter to the king. [Sidenote: 65] GOBELINS, FIRST HALF XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 13 _ft._ 3 _in._ W. 8 _ft._ 3 _in._ ] [Sidenote: Another rendering in the Vienna Collection, No. 253; another in the Musée Impériale des Ecuries, Petrograd, No. 118.] THE INDIAN HUNTER: _This tapestry is one of a set of eight illustrating the New India after designs by François Desportes. The set was first woven in 1687._ _This piece has the first type of border used with the series_, _bearing the arms of the king_, _which means that it was woven before_ 1768 _under either Cozette or Neilson_.[32] The design is typical of the romantic primitivism that Rousseau formulated in his conception of the Noble Savage. The accuracy of detail in the Indian basket is interesting and rather unexpected. [Sidenote: Lent by _Demotte_.] François Desportes (1661-1743) studied under Bernaert, a pupil of Snyders. He entered the Academy in 1699 and was made painter to the king. He is famous for his paintings of animals and hunting scenes. [Sidenote: 66] BEAUVAIS, XVIII CENTURY (1777) [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 11 _ft._ 1 _in._ W. 21 _ft._ 3 _in._ ] THE THEFT OF THE TRUNK: _A group of gypsies surround a traveler's carriage, and while some tell the lady's fortune and receive alms others attempt to steal a trunk from the baggage-rack behind._ [Sidenote: Formerly in Collection of Count Polovzoff, Petrograd. Another example in the Swedish Royal Collection. Illustrated: _Böttiger, Svenska Statins Samling_, vol. 3, pl. LXVI.] The tapestry is one of the series _Les Bohémiens_ by François Casanova, and was woven in Beauvais when the factory was under the direction of André Charlemagne Charron, whose initials it bears in signature. According to the inventories, the series has been woven only twice--once in 1777 for the king, and again in 1799.[33] The vividness of the minor episodes and the vivacity of characterization of even the lesser actors make this a most interesting tapestry. The weaving is done with exquisite skill and the color is unusually fresh and charming. [Sidenote: Lent by _Jacques Seligmann & Company_.] François Casanova (1730-1805) went to Italy in 1727 where he studied under Guardi and Francesco Simonini. He returned to France and later studied under Parocel. In 1763 he was received into the Academy and exhibited in the salons until 1783. [Sidenote: 67] BEAUVAIS, XVIII CENTURY (1735-1740) [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 11 _ft._ 9 _in._ W. 14 _ft._ 6 _in._ ] THE ARMS OF FRANCE AND NAVARRE: _Two angels on clouds support the coat of arms before an ermine drape against a ground of fleur-de-lis on blue._ The angels are after Boucher, the only coat of arms in tapestry known to which Boucher has contributed. It is evidently one of several fleur-de-lis pieces listed in the accounts of Beauvais between 1735 and 1740 and may be the one made for the Parliament of Rouen in the latter year.[34] It is an unusually rich and interesting armorial, the angels with their characteristic Boucher grace adding great beauty to the formal setting. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] François Boucher (1703-1770) studied with Lemoyne and during that time painted scenery for the Opera, a work to which he returned in the height of his career (1737-44). In 1734 he became Academician. In 1735 he was appointed head of the Gobelins by Marigny. In 1765 he was made first painter to the king and Director of the Academy. In the years between 1740 and 1755 he painted many cartoons for the Beauvais tapestry works. Among his most famous tapestry suites are the _Loves of the Gods_, the _Chinese Hangings_, and the _Italian Fêtes_. [Sidenote: 68] GOBELINS, XVIII CENTURY (1767) [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 4 _ft._ 11 _in._ W. 6 _ft._ 6 _in._ ] THE FORTUNE-TELLER: _Two peasant girls seated on the ground by a fountain are having their fortune told by another girl. A naked baby clings to her skirts. From one side a goat looks on inquisitively. It is signed F. Boucher and dated._ [Sidenote: Illustrated: _Fénaille, L'Etat général des Tapisseries de la Manufacture des Gobelins, Dix-huitième Siècle_, 2me Partie, p. 238.] This is one of a series of cartoons in small size made by Boucher for the Gobelins while he was director. They were very popular and have been woven a number of times. The piece shows how remarkably the delicate gradations of tone, on which Boucher's essential quality depended, could be translated into the weave by the extraordinarily skillful craftsmen of the Gobelins. [Sidenote: Lent by _Duveen Brothers_. ] As in all of Boucher's cartoons, the subject is only an occasion for his own charming decorative mannerisms. As a rendition of peasant life, it is interesting to contrast this cartoon with the honest literalness of Teniers (cf. Nos. 47-49). [Sidenote: 69] AUBUSSON, LATE XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 9 _ft._ 10 _in._ W. 7 _ft._ 5 _in._ ] BAIGNEUSE: _A bather attended by amorini is about to step into a woodland stream. In an oval frame surrounded by an encadrement of garlands upheld by amorini and satin drapes in the manner of Huet, on a gray ground._ The central panel is after Fragonard, a subject that he repeated with many variations. The piece is typical of the Aubusson work, delicate in color with the decorative effect depending largely on the flowery encadrement. [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] Jean Honoré Fragonard (1732-1806) studied under Boucher, Greuze, and Chardin, and is usually considered the successor of Boucher. In 1752 he was given Grand Prize for Painting. He was a favorite painter of Madame Du Barry, for whom he did a great deal of work. [Sidenote: 70] AUBUSSON, LATE XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 8 _ft._ 10 _in._ W. 6 _ft._ 6 _in._ ] AU BORD DU MER: _In an oval panel are peasants landing from a rowboat. In the harbor under a cliff is a sailing vessel. In an encadrement of red and blue flowers and ribbons on a gray ground._ [Sidenote: Formerly in the Vaffrin Collection, Bordeaux.] The central panel is after Vernet, who was particularly famous for his port scenes. The encadrement is unusually rich and delicate. [Sidenote: Lent by _Wildenstein & Company_.] Claude-Joseph Vernet (1714-1789) first studied under his father as a decorative painter of wall and furniture panels. Afterward he studied under Bernardino Fergiori in Rome to be a marine painter. In 1735 he was received by the Academy. His most famous paintings, of the seaports of France, are in the Louvre. [Sidenote: 71] AUBUSSON, XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool._ H. 9 _ft._ W. 5 _ft._ ] CHINESE GROTESQUE: _A Chinaman, fantastically dressed, stands between two tall tropical trees. On a pale-blue ground._ [Sidenote: Lent by _A. J. Halow_.] The piece is a delightful example of the taste for _chinoiseries_ which the Pompadour fostered for the benefit of the French East India Company, in which she was interested, and which taste was eagerly followed by the frivolous and bored French court, always seeking novelty. [Sidenote: 72] AUBUSSON, XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 4 _ft._ 3 _in._ W. 3 _ft._ 9 _in._ ] ARMORIAL: _On a red ground, two angels support a shield. Border of scrolls._ This crisp and delicate little armorial is a fine example of the best quality of work done at Aubusson in the late XVIIIth century. The clear drawing on the deep-red background makes a vivid piece of decoration. [Sidenote: Exhibited: _Detroit Museum of Fine Arts_, 1919.] [Sidenote: Lent by _Dikran K. Kelekian_.] The rendition of a coat of arms in tapestry is difficult, because the decorative value of heraldic devices depends almost entirely on the beauty of the line-drawing, and tapestry, because of the character of the weave and the surface, is not a good medium for clean lines. In the earlier periods, therefore, the shield was usually made incidental to a design better adapted to tapestry (cf. No. 9). It was only well into the XVIIIth century that the bearings could be woven delicately enough to let them stand alone. [Sidenote: 73] IMPERIAL RUSSIAN TAPESTRY WORKS, ST. PETERSBURG, 1811 [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 9 _ft._ 4 _in._ W. 6 _ft._ 7 _in._ ] CATHERINE THE GREAT: _Catherine stands in her robes of state holding the sceptre while the Imperial crown rests on a stool beside her. On the wall is the Russian motto, NACHATOYE SOVERCHAYET ("What is begun is accomplished"). It is signed and dated._ [Sidenote: Exhibited: _Metropolitan Museum_, 1912.] For sheer technical skill the rendition of this portrait is unsurpassable. The representation of textures is remarkable, quite on a par with the cleverest paintings of the period. [Illustration: _The Poisoning of a Spy_ No. 56 ] [Illustration: _The Arms of France and Navarre_ No. 67 ] [Sidenote: Illustrated: _Hunter, Tapestries_, pl. 229; also, _Candee, Tapestry Book_, opp. p. 133,--but wrongly attributed to the Gobelins.] [Sidenote: Lent by _P. W. French & Company_.] It is, in truth, an absolutely perfect reproduction of a painting--a painting, moreover, that from the character of all the accessories is particularly difficult to render in wool; and while it is by no means the business of tapestry to imitate painting, it is nevertheless an interesting display of remarkable virtuosity. The personal power of the forceful old Empress is strongly presented. From every aspect this is one of the greatest portraits in a woven medium. In general color tone the piece has remained faithful to the character of tapestry, sustaining the rich quality that the solid texture demands. In spite, also, of the need for many delicately graded values to render the stuffs and the modeling, the weavers have kept the color in large enough masses to be broadly decorative. [Sidenote: 74] MADRID, LATE XVIII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 5 _ft._ W. 8 _ft._ ] THE CARD PLAYERS: _A group of men and women playing at cards sit about a table on which is thrown a rich brocade. One of the company sits to one side playing a lute._ [Sidenote: Lent by _Duveen Brothers_.] This piece is one of the rather uncommon examples of the work of the Santa Barbara looms of Madrid. The skill of the weavers is remarkable in reproducing the heavy modeling of the deep shadows and the delicate modulations of the faces. For the perfect rendition of the effect of a painting in tapestry it cannot be excelled. ADDENDA _The tapestries entered under this heading were received too late to be entered in their proper order in the body of the catalogue._ [Sidenote: 75] BRUSSELS, BEGINNING OF XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool, Silk, Gold._ H. 9 _ft._ 1 _in._ W. 7 _ft._ 8 _in._ ] THE RESURRECTION: _The risen Christ discovered by Peter. Upper left, the Agony in Gethsemane; upper right, Christ appearing to Mary in the garden. In the background, the angel appearing to the three women. Border of fruits and flowers, grapes, roses, and iris interspersed with finches and a paroquet._ This tapestry, the last of a series illustrating the _Passion_ of Our Lord, was designed in the studio of Bernard Van Orley, and may be the work of Van Orley himself, though there were some of his students and followers who in purity of conception and elevation and sensitiveness of feeling were superior at times to the master himself. The weaving, unsurpassable in technical perfection, may be the work of the Pannemaker looms. The quality of the design and weaving and the lavish use of gold all indicate that this series was made for a great church or a noble family. [Sidenote: Formerly in the Collection of the Duc d'Albe.] The weavers at this period had attained complete mastery of the shuttle. This absolute technical control made possible the exact translation into tapestry of the intricate Renaissance patterns. The finish and elegance of the goldsmith's art which characterized so much of Renaissance design is perfectly rendered. However, while the weaving was fitted to the requirements of the Renaissance at this time, it had not yet sacrificed any of its qualities as tapestry. Nor did the designs of Bernard Van Orley force the weavers out of their proper limitations. For though he was Italian trained and saturated with Renaissance influences, he was still close to the technical problems of the weaver's art and he adjusted the new manner in painting to them. So this piece is rich in jewel-like detail that enriches without crowding the whole surface. The drawing of the flowers and the birds is exquisite. The figures also, in spite of their dramatic force, keep the aloof poise that decorative art demands. Finally, by means of a dispersion of substantial tones, the brilliant suffusion of golden light which the Renaissance loved is fully achieved. Such a scene as this is, in short, one of the last great monuments of the perfection of Gothic tapestry, reinspired by the new insights of the Renaissance before the ostentation and mistaken conventions of Raphael misguided the entire art. [Sidenote: Lent by _Mrs. William H. Crocker_.] Nor is it merely a technical triumph. It is the direct expression of a profound religious emotion which shines through the material beauty, elevates it above earthly things, and sets it apart in glory. Easter has scarce had a lovelier celebration. [Sidenote: 76] BRUSSELS, XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 15 _ft._ W. 19 _ft._ ] THE TRIUMPH OF WISDOM: _Wisdom with her two herons rides in a chariot drawn by mythological beasts. In the upper right are Perseus and Pegasus. Before the chariot are Ahasuerus, Abigail, David, and Saba. Cassandra walks beside, while Titus and his soldiers, Rachel, and Judith with the head of Holofernes bring up the rear. In the upper left Prometheus, in the lower Cadmus, contending with the dragons._ This is one of a very famous set of tapestries illustrating the _Triumphs of Petrarch_ and a number of other _Triumphs_ invented by French poets in imitation of Petrarch. The cartoons are evidently the product of the studio of Maître Philippe (cf. Nos. 19, 20), for the heads of several of the minor characters are regular models, often repeated in his work. The cartoons were painted and also executed before 1523, because in that year Henry VII bought eight of the set, four of which are still at Hampton Court. This piece, however, was woven in the middle of the century, as is shown by the character of the heavy floral border. In the selvage is the Brussels city mark and the mark of the Brussels weaver, Leo Van den Hecke. [Sidenote: Lent by _Mrs. William H. Crocker_.] The design is full of the oblique symbolism that the period loved. The allusions are drawn with equal interest from classic tradition, secular history, and Christian legend. The entire past has been laid under tribute with magnificent disregard of historical, social, and religious congruity. Such an unclassified assemblage of exciting personalities might even cause confusion in the Day of Judgment. It is typical of the Renaissance catholicity, the Renaissance eagerness to assimilate all knowledge and be always as impressive as possible. Yet the figures still have some of the stately restraint of the Gothic, and the dispersion of the points of interest, so that the whole textile is equally covered, is a remainder from the Gothic taste. Truly transitional, it represents the final stage of Maître Philippe's development. [Sidenote: 77] FLANDERS, ENGHIEN (?), XVI CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 5 _ft._ W. 6 _ft._ 11 _in._ ] VERDURE: _Scrolling leaves in rich blue-green with red and yellow flowers and fruits on a very deep-blue ground. A wide border of clusters of flowers and fruits._ [Sidenote: Lent by _Mrs. William H. Crocker_.] This is a notably brilliant example of the characteristic Renaissance verdure. The drawing is both accurate and vivacious, the colors pure, deep, and brilliant, the wool of extraordinary firmness and lustre, while the weave is remarkably close for the type. Tapestries of this class are so often perfunctory in conception and mechanical in execution that we need a piece of this clarity, strength, and perfect finish to show how splendid are the possibilities inherent in the simple design. [Sidenote: 78] FLANDERS, LATE XVII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 11 _ft._ 8 _in._ W. 15 _ft._ ] THE CABRIOLE: _A young knight shows his skill in jumping his horse. At the left a page leads in a sumptuously caparisoned horse. At the right a large fountain is seen through the trees, and in the background is a formal garden with fountains._ [Sidenote: Lent by _Mrs. William H. Crocker_.] Such very decorative verdures, half realistic landscapes, were among the finest products of the late XVIIth and XVIIIth centuries. Audenarde looms wove many of the best pieces of the type, and this piece probably came from that district. The fountain is rendered with delightful detail and animation, and the drawing of flowing waters, a trying problem for tapestry, is managed with admirable dexterity. [Sidenote: 79] ANTWERP, LATE XVII CENTURY [Sidenote: _Wool and Silk._ H. 32 _in._ W. 24 _in._ ] SCENES FROM THE CHILDHOOD OF CHRIST: _On a black ground strewn with flowers, five oval panels framed with wreaths: the Annunciation; the Nativity; the Adoration of the Magi; the Circumcision; the Flight into Egypt._ [Sidenote: Illustrated: _Schmitz, Bild-Teppiche_, p. 265.] [Sidenote: Lent by _Mrs. William H. Crocker_.] This very unusual tapestry was the work of Balthasar Bosmanns, one of the greatest weavers of Antwerp. The realistically drawn yet richly decorative flowers show the influence of the school of flower painters of which Jan Brueghel was the most famous. The landscape in the _Adoration_ and the _Flight into Egypt_ are rendered with exquisite delicacy. The effect of the panels in such light, fresh, almost pastel colors against the black ground is a daring and striking decorative experiment. Another rendering of the same cartoon is in the Kunstgewerbe Museum, Berlin. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: _Schmitz, Bild-Teppiche_, p. 186.] [Footnote 2: _Lindner, Der Breslauer Froissart_.] [Footnote 3: _Amberger Catalogue._] [Footnote 4: _Thièry, Les Inscriptions des Tapisseries de Jean Van Room_, pp. 23, 24E.] [Footnote 5: _Marquet de Vasselot, Les Emaux Limousin_, No. 8, pl. II.] [Footnote 6: _Op. cit._ 29, pl. X.] [Footnote 7: _Op. cit._ 49, pl. XVI.] [Footnote 8: _Order for Payment of Philip the Good_, _April_ 4, 1455, _quoted in Van den Gheyn_, _Chroniques et Conquêtes de Charlemagne_, _by le Tavernier_, _p._ 11.] [Footnote 9: _See Burlington Magazine_, vol. 20, pp. 247, 309. _D. T. B. Wood, Credo Tapestries._] [Footnote 10: _See Barbier de Montault's inventory in Annales Archéologiques_, tome 15, pp. 232, 296.] [Footnote 11: _Van Kalcken, Peintures ecclésiastiques du Moyen Age. Notes by Dr. Jan Six._] [Footnote 12: _Op. cit._ p. 1.] [Footnote 13: _Op. cit._ p. 3.] [Footnote 14: _Op. cit._ p. 15.] [Footnote 15: _Burlington Magazine_, vol. 20, p. 220. _D. T. B. Wood, Tapestries of the Seven Deadly Sins._] [Footnote 16: _Catalogue of the Collection of Martin le Roy_, vol. 4.] [Footnote 17: _Destrée, Tapisseries et Sculptures bruxelloises_, p. 8.] [Footnote 18: _Thièry, Les Inscriptions des Tapisseries de Jean Van Room._] [Footnote 19: _Bodenhauser, Gerard David_, No. 10.] [Footnote 20: _Op. cit._ No. 25a.] [Footnote 21: _Destrée, Hugo Van der Goes_, opp. p. 48.] [Footnote 22: _Op. cit._, opp. p. 32.] [Footnote 23: _Thièry, Les Inscriptions des Tapisseries de Jean Van Room_, p. 28.] [Footnote 24: _Thièry, Les Inscriptions des Tapisseries de Jean Van Room_, p. 27. Also, _Destrée and Van den Ven, Les Tapisseries_, No. 17.] [Footnote 25: For illustration, see _Fsoulke Collection_, opp. p. 49.] [Footnote 26: _Thomson, History of Tapestry_, p. 479.] [Footnote 27: For further discussion, see _Gazette des Beaux Arts_, 2me Période; _Montaiglon, Diane de Poitiers et Son Goût dans les Arts_, t. XIX, p. 152.] [Footnote 28: _La Renaissance de l'Art français_, 1921, p. 159 ff.; _E. Dimier, La Tenture de la Grande Galerie_.] [Footnote 29: _Fénaille, Etat général des Tapisseries de la Manufacture des Gobelins, Période Louis XIV_, pp. 337, 341f., 344, 370.] [Footnote 30: _Fénaille, Etat général des Tapisseries de la Manufacture des Gobelins, Période Louis XIV_, pp. 337. 343f., 369.] [Footnote 31: _Badin, La Manufacture de la Tapisserie de Beauvais_, p. 11.] [Footnote 32: _Fénaille, Etat général des Tapisseries de la Manufacture des Gobelins, Dix-huitième Siècle_, Partie 11, p. 40ff.] [Footnote 33: _Badin, La Manufacture de la Tapisserie de Beauvais_, p. 64.] [Footnote 34: _Badin, La Manufacture de la Tapisserie de Beauvais_, p. 75.] A LIST OF WEAVERS The following is a list of the most prominent weavers. Such men as Sir Francis Crane, of Mortlake, and Delorme, of Fontainebleau, have not been included because they were only administrators. It is possible that Grenier was not a weaver, though he may have been both weaver and contractor. Nicolas Bataille Paris XIVth Century Pasquier Grenier Tournai Middle of XVth Century Pieter Van Aelst Brussels XVIth Century Wilhelm Pannemaker Brussels XVIth Century François Geubels Brussels XVIth Century Hubert de Mecht Brussels XVIth Century John Karcher Ferrara XVIth Century Nicolas Karcher Ferrara XVIth Century John Rost Florence XVIth Century Philip de Mecht Mortlake XVIIth Century Francis Poyntz Mortlake XVIIth Century Francis Spierinx Delft XVIIth Century John Vanderbanc England XVIIth Century Catherine Van der Eynde Brussels XVIIth Century Jean Raes Brussels XVIIth Century Everard Leyniers Brussels XVIIth Century Jacques Van der Beurcht Brussels XVIIth Century Marc Comans Paris XVIIth Century François de la Planche Paris XVIIth Century Jean Lefébvre Paris XVIIth Century Jean Jans Paris XVIIth Century Gerard Laurent Paris XVIIth Century Philippe Behagle Beauvais XVIIIth Century Cozette Gobelins XVIIIth Century Le Blond Gobelins XVIIIth Century De la Tour Gobelins XVIIIth Century James Neilson Gobelins XVIIIth Century Jacques Van der Goten Madrid XVIIIth Century Antoine Lenger Madrid XVIIIth Century BIBLIOGRAPHY _All the books starred_ (*) _may be consulted in the San Francisco Public Library_ [Illustration] There is, unfortunately, no satisfactory book in English on Tapestry and no wholly satisfactory book for the general reader in any language. The following are the most useful and are readily available. *_Candee, Helen Churchill. The Tapestry Book. New York_, 1912. A somewhat superficial and sentimental sketch of the history of tapestry, with almost no interpretation and little indication of the relation of tapestry to the other arts. _DeMotte, G. J. Les Tapisseries gothiques. Paris_, 1922. When complete will contain two hundred large color plates of incomparable beauty and fidelity. Invaluable as a source-book. Will contain probably the majority of important examples of the period. _Guiffrey, J. J. L'Histoire de la Tapisserie. Tours_, 1886. A narrative history, now superseded in a number of respects. _Guiffrey, J. J. L'Histoire de la Tapisserie en France_ (_L'Histoire générale de la Tapisserie_). _Paris_, 1878-85. A compilation of all the facts available at the time, and still an important fundamental reference work. _Guiffrey, J. J. Les Tapisseries du XIIe à la fin du XVIe Siècle. Paris, n. d._ The most detailed survey of the period, but unfortunately poorly organized. Superbly illustrated. *_Hunter, George Leland. Tapestries: Their Origin, History, and Renaissance. New York_, 1912. An unsystematic assemblage of facts, not all of which are correct, and many of which are irrelevant. _Migeon, Gaston. Les Arts de Tissu_ (_Troisième Partie_). _Paris_, 1909. A complete and readable account of the history of tapestry, with some excellent interpretations. _Müntz, Eugène. L'Histoire de la Tapisserie en Italie, en Allemagne, etc._ (_L'Histoire générale de la Tapisserie_). _Paris_, 1878-85. Similar to Guiffrey's volume in the same series. _Müntz, Eugène. La Tapisserie. Paris_, 1883. A brief presentation of the general history, superseded at some points, but with valuable illuminating interpretations. _Pinchart, A. L'Histoire de la Tapisserie dans les Flandres_ (_L'Histoire générale de la Tapisserie_). _Paris_, 1878-85. Similar to the other volumes of the same series. _Schmitz, Herman. Bild-Teppiche. Berlin_, 1919. By far the most systematic, scholarly, complete, and informing book yet published on the subject. *_Thomson, W. G. A History of Tapestry. New York_, 1906. A conventional history with useful tables of marks, but limited by being illustrated entirely with examples in England. *_Thomson, W. G. Tapestry Weaving in England. New York_, 1914. The fundamental reference on this aspect of the subject, with full reproduction of documents. In addition to the above titles, there are a great number of monographs on various phases of the subject, many of which are excellent. For example: _Thièry, Les Inscriptions des Tapisseries de Jean Van Room, Louvain_, 1907, is an able piece of work, a model of exact scholarship. The majority of these monographs are of interest only to the special student. Schmitz refers to the more important of them in his foot-notes. SUBJECT & TITLE INDEX _Every tapestry is listed by its respective catalogue number, and a star (*) indicates the tapestry is illustrated._ [Illustration] LOOMS REPRESENTED IN THE EXHIBITION Numbers _Aubusson_ 62, 69, 70, 71, 72 _Beauvais_ *51, *52, 59, 60, 61, 66, *67 _English_ 49 _Flemish Gothic_ *3 *4, *5, 7, *14, 15, 16, *17, 18, 19, 20, *21, 75, 76 _Flemish Renaissance_ 23, 24, *25, *26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, *35, 77 _Flemish, XVIIth Century_ *41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 78, 79 _Flemish, XVIIIth Century_ 47, 48, 53, 54, 55, *56 _Fontainebleau_ *36, *37 _French Gothic_ *1, *2, *8, 9, *10, 11, 12, *13 _French, XVIIth Century_ *38, *39, 40, 50, 58 _German and Swiss Gothic_ 6, *22 _Gobelins_ 57, 63, 64, 65, 68 _Russian_ 73 _Spanish_ 74 ALLEGORICAL, CLASSICAL, HISTORICAL, AND MYTHOLOGICAL _America_ 42 _Augustus and Livia, Triumph of_ 44 _Bacchante_ 63 _Chinese Grotesque_ 59 _Chinese Grotesque_ 71 _Cleopatra, Two Scenes from the History of_ *39, 40 _Cyrus, Two Scenes from the Life of_ *26, 27 _December from the "Months" of Lucas_ 58 _Diana, Triumph of_ *37 _Grotesques_ *36 _Hercules, the History of_ 7 _Indian Hunter, The_ 65 _July from the "Months" of Lucas_ 57 _Louis the Great, The Conquest of_ *52 _Niobides, The_ *38 _Priest and Cardenio Meet Dorothy, The_ 62 _Roman de la Rose, Scenes from the_ *4 _Romance, Scenes from a_ 20 _Sancho is Tossed in a Blanket_ 46 _Scipio, Three Scenes from the Deeds of_ 23, 24, *25 _Siege of Lille, The Operations of the_ 53, 54, 55, *56 _Wisdom, Triumph of_ 76 ARMORIAL _Armorial, Aubusson, XVIIIth Century_ 72 _Armorial, Bruges_, 1556 34 _Arms of France and Navarre, The_ *67 _Millefleurs Armorial with Wild Men_ 9 _Millefleurs with Shepherds and the Shield of the Rigaut Family_ *10 GENRE SCENES _Au Bord Du Mer_ 70 _Baigneuse_ 69 _Cabriole, The_ 78 _Card Players, The_ 74 _Chase, The_ *2 _Fortune-Teller, The_ 68 _Pastoral Scene_ *13 _Peasants in a Landscape_ 49 _Peasant Scenes, Two_ 47, 48 _Theft of the Trunk, The_ 66 _Two Pairs of Lovers_ *22 _Vintage, The_ *5 LANDSCAPES _Garden Scene_ 30 _Hunting Scene_ 32 _Millefleurs with Animals_ 11 _Millefleurs with Animals_ 12 _Verdure, Enghien_ (?) 33 _Verdure, Enghien_ (?) 77 _Verdure, Flanders, XVIth Century_ 31 _Verdure, Flanders, XVIIth Century_ *41 _Verdure: Hermes and the Shepherd_ 50 _Verdure with Bear Hunt_ 43 _Verdure with Dancing Nymphs_ *51 PORTRAITS _Catherine the Great_ 73 _Louis XV_ 64 RELIGIOUS SUBJECTS _Annunciation, The_ *1 _Annunciation, the Nativity and the Announcement to the Shepherds, The_ *3 _Childhood of Christ, Scenes from the_ 79 _Creed, Three Pieces from a Series Illustrating the_ *14, 15, 16 _Creed, Three Pieces from a Series Illustrating the_ *17, 18, 19 _Crucifixion, The_ *35 _David, The Triumph of_ *21 _Entombment on Millefleurs_ *8 _Judith Departs for the Enemy's Camp_ 29 _Life of Christ, Scenes from the_ 6 _Pentecost, The_ 28 _Resurrection, The_ 75 _Virgin and Child, The_ 45 STILL LIFE _Two Still-Life Pieces_ 60, 61 [Illustration] TAYLOR & TAYLOR EDWARD DE WITT & HENRY H. TAYLOR SAN FRANCISCO 1922 * * * * * +----------------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber Notes: | | | | P. 20. 'the minature' changed to 'the miniature'. | | Footnote p. 31. 'Chroniques et Conquêtes de Charlemaine' | | changed to 'Chroniques et Conquêtes Charlemagne'. | | P. 60. 'Les Incriptions' changed to 'Les Inscriptions'. | | Corrected various punctuation. | | | +----------------------------------------------------------------+