POSTSCRIPT.

Fig. 28.Arms of Embroiderers’ Guild.

In the reign of James I. it was the fashion to do portraits in needlework, stitched flat or raised. Some are artistic in design and execution, but they are mostly ridiculously bad.

The East India Company was founded in 1560, under Elizabeth, and obtained the monopoly of the Anglo-Indian trade, under Cromwell, in 1634. This would have been the moment for encouraging a fresh importation of Oriental taste into our degenerate art. Cromwell’s own service of plate was scratched over (“graffito”) with a childish and weak semi-Indian, semi-Chinese design; and we must accept this as typical of the artistic Oriental knowledge of that day. Grafted on the style of James I., it shows, however, that Indian ideas were creeping in and sought for, if not understood in high places, under the auspices of the East India Company. Needlework alone was excluded from all benefit. Fromthat date, for 150 years, Indian manufactures were imported,with the exception of embroidery, which was contraband by the ancient statutes. This accounts for our faint and ignorant imitations of Indian work, and the extreme rarity of the true specimens to be met with in England, unless of a later period.

Features disproportionately sized trees, plants, birds, fruit and human figuresSee larger image

Cushion cover Temp. Queen ElizabethXVI. Century

But our Aryan instincts have always led our English tastes towards conventional naturalism. Although we have lost the rules and traditions which converted natural objects into patterns, we are continually, in our style, leaning and groping in their direction, and twining flowers, those of the field by preference, into semi-conventional garlands and posies.

In the seventeenth century, when James I. was king, protection had done its worst. The style of work called “embroidery on the stamp” was then the fashion. This sort of work in Italy continued to be artistic, but the English specimens that have survived from this reign are mostly very ugly. Continental art had ceased to influence us, and bad taste reigned supreme, except in our architecture, which had crystallized into a picturesque style of our own called “James I.,” and was the outcome of the last Gothic of Henry VIII. and the Italian style of Edward VI. and Elizabeth. But the carvings of that phase of architecture were semi-barbarous. Nothing could have been poorer than their composition, or coarser than their execution, and the needlework of the day followed suit. Infinite trouble and ingenuity were wasted on looking-glass frames, picture frames, and caskets worked in purl, gold, and silver. The subjects were ambitious Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, and James and Anne of Denmark,[608]and other historical figures were stuffedwith cotton or wool, and raised into high relief; and then dressed and “garnished” with pearls; the faces either in painted satin or fine satin stitch; the hair and wigs in purl or complicated knotting. Windsor Castle as a background for King James and King Solomon alike, pointed the clumsy allegory, and the lion of England gambolling in the foreground, amid flowers and coats-of-arms, filled up the composition.

The drawing and design were childish, and show us how high art can in a century or less slip back into no art at all. Any one comparing the Dunstable or the Fishmongers’ pall with one of the best caskets of this period would say that the latter should have preceded the former by centuries. In James I.’s time, ignorance of all rules of composition was added to the absence of any sort of style.[609]I give the illustrations of the time of James I. Plate83is a cushion from Hatfield House, rich and rather foolish, with tiny men filling in the corners left vacant by large flowers, caterpillars, &c.

Charles I. gave a raised embroidered cope to the Chapter of Durham, of this description of work.[610]

Pl. 84.Large intertwined foliage and floral designSee larger image

Pl. 84.

English embroidered curtain (James I.), at Cockayne Hatley, Beds.

Pl. 85.Large leaf and fruit patternSee larger image

Pl. 85.

Embroidered Hangings. Crewels on Linen. Hardwicke Hall.

The other fashionable work of that day had its merits. It was the custom to embroider hangings or linen in crewels. Considering how often in this book and my preceding lectures I have said that this style of work was common (even in the early days of Egypt and Assyria), it may well be said, when was itnotthe fashion? and I must answer, “only since the days of Queen Anne.” It seems as if before that time our designs for work were partially influenced by the fine Indian specimens which had surreptitiously crept into England. Some of these are very cleverly executed. Huge conventional trees grow from a green strip of earth carrying every variety of leaf and flower done in many stitches. The individual leaf or flower is often very beautiful. On the bank below, small deer and lions disport themselves, and birds twice their size perch on the branches (plate84).[611]But even where the work is finest, the incongruities are too annoying. The modern excuse for it, “that it is quaint,” does not reconcile us to its extravagant effect. To be quaint in art is, as I have said before, to be funny without intending it; and these curtains are funny by their absence of all intention or perspective, and when hungthey make everything in the room look disproportionate to the unnatural size of the foliage. (Plate85.) Specimens of this work are to be found in most English country houses. It has lasted till now, partly because the crewels first manufactured in the sixteenth century were of an excellent quality, and secondly, because there was no gold to make it worth any one’s while to destroy them; so the old hangings went up into the attics in all the disgrace of shabbiness, and have come down again as family relics. Even the moths have been deprived of their prey, by these curtains having served for the beds of the household, so that they have been kept for their nearly 300 years of existence, aired and dusted. Much of this work has been recovered from farmhouses and cottages in tolerable preservation. In many cases the flowers have survived the stout linen grounds on which they were worked. The Royal School of Needlework has often been commissioned to restore and transfer the crewel trees on to a new backing. The hangings and the curtains I have described, prevailed from the end of Elizabeth’s reign to that of Queen Anne, and gradually deteriorated. The stitches, of which the variety at first was infinite, had given place to a coarse uniform stem stitch—“gobble stitch.” The materials also were of inferior quality, and less durable, so that the latest specimens are in general in the worst condition.

It is remarkable how little the beautiful Continental work influenced our English school. We were enjoying perfect protection, and were clumsily taking advantage of our security from all competition. In the Italian palaces this was the moment of the finest secular embroideries in satin stitches, gold and silver, and “inlaid” and “onlaid” appliqués. Likewise in Spain and Portugal the Oriental work, especially that executed at Goa, filled the palaces and the convents with gorgeoushangings, carpets, table-covers, and bed furniture. We feel it painful to contrast with these our own shortcomings in art, and our faded glories.

The fact is, that, owing to our art-killing protectionist laws, embroidery had the misfortune to be treated at that time as textile manufacture, and not as art at all.

In the reign of William and Mary, Dutch taste had naturally been brought to the front.[612]This included Japanese art, or imitations of it, and also had something of late Spanish. The Georges brought into England, and naturalized a rather heavy work, in gold and silver—the design being decidedly a German “Louis Quatorze”—richly stitched and heavily fringed, and much employed on court dresses and on state furniture. We have seen royal beds and court suits which show very little difference in style. It does not appear that this was worked by ladies. It has, somehow, a professional look.

Twisting vines with crowns, roses and a birdFig. 29.Part of James II.’s Coronation Dress.From an old Print.

Occasionally, however, we meet with pieces of exceptionally beautiful work of the end of the seventeenth and early part of the eighteenth centuries. The style is the most refined Louis Quatorze, but the work is actually English. The white satin coverlets belonging to the Marquis of Bath and the Duke of Leeds are not to be exceeded in delicacy and splendour. The embroidered dresses of the Duke and Duchess of Buckingham,in Westminster Abbey (early eighteenth century) are of this description.

From Queen Anne to George III., a great deal of furniture was covered with the different cushion stitches, either in geometrical or kaleidoscope patterns, or else displaying groups of flowers or figures, quaint and sometimes pretty. These designs are generally, however, wanting in grace, and their German feeling shows them to be the precursors of the Berlin wool patterns.

When the crewel-work hangings ceased to be the fashion, home work took another direction. All the ladies imitated Indian dimity patterns, on muslin, in coloured silks or thread, with the tambour-frame and needle;[613]but in 1707 the “Broiderers’ Company,” we presume, found that the Indian manufactures were engrossing the market, and a fresh statute was obtained, forbidding the importation from India of any wrought material. This cruel prohibition carried its own punishment. The Indian trade was ours, and we might have adapted and assimilated the Indian taste for design. We might have brought over men and women great in their most ancient craft, and so produced the most splendid Indo-English School. The Portuguese at least sent out their own silks and satins to be worked at Goa;wethrew away our chance, and signed the death-warrant of our art.

About the middle of the last century, several ladies,notably Miss Linwood, Miss Moritt, of Rokeby, and Mrs. Delany, copied pictures in worsteds. Some of these are wonderfully clever and even very pretty, but they are rather a painful effort of pictorial art under difficulties, than legitimate embroideries. These pictures would have served the purpose of decoration better as medallions in the centres of arabesque panels, than framed and glazed in imitation of oil paintings. Some of the followers of this school produced works that are shocking to all artistic sense, especially as seen now, when the moths have spoiled them. They can only be classed with such abortive attempts at decoration as glass cases filled with decayed stuffed birds, and vases of faded and broken wax flowers.

I may record with praise the efforts of Mrs. Pawsey,[614]a lady who started a school of needlework at Aylesbury. She was patronized by Queen Charlotte; and for her she worked the beautiful bed at Hampton Court, of purple satin, with wreaths of flowers in crewels touched up with silk, which look as if they might have been copied from the flower-pieces of a Dutch master. The execution is very fine, and reminds one of the best French work of the same period. Mrs. Pawsey taught and helped ladies to embroider in silk and chenille, as well as crewels, and in many country houses we can recognize specimens of her style; usually on screens worked in silk and chenille, with bunches of flowers in vases or baskets, artistically designed.

This was our last attempt at excellence, immediately followed by the total collapse of our decorative needlework, and the advent of the Berlin wool patterns.

A postscript to this chapter will perhaps be acceptable to those who have taken an interest in the “History of English Embroidery,” and who will therefore care to know about the revival which has filled so many workshops with what is now called “Art Needlework.”

There was a public demand for something better than the worsted patterns in the trade, and the Royal School of Art Needlework rose and tried to respond to that call by stimulating original ideas and designs, and imitating old ones in conformity with modern requirements. The difficulties to be overcome were at first very great. The old stitches had all to be learned and then taught, and the best methods to be selected; the proper materials had to be studied and obtained—sometimes they had to be manufactured. Lastly, beautiful tints had to be dyed; avoiding, as much as possible, the gaudy and the evanescent.

The project of such a school was first conceived in the autumn of 1872.

Lady Welby, herself an accomplished embroideress, had the courage to face all the difficulties of such an undertaking. A small apartment was hired in Sloane Street, and Mrs. Dolby, who was already an authority on ecclesiastical work, gave her help. Twenty young ladies were selected, and several friends joined heartily in fostering the movement.

H.R.H. the Princess Christian of Schleswig-Holstein gave her name as President, and her active co-operation.[615]

The school grew so fast, that for want of space for the work-frames, it had to remove into a larger house, No. 31, Sloane Street, and finally in the year 1875 it found its present home in Exhibition Road, when the Queen became its Patron. In 1878 the Association was incorporated under the Board of Trade, with a Managing and a Finance Committee, and a salaried manager to overlook the whole concern.

From 100 to 150 ladies at a time have there received employment. Their claims were poverty, gentle birth, and sufficient capacity to enable them to support themselves and be educated to teach others.

Branch schools have been started throughout the United Kingdom and in America.[616]

The education of the school has been much assisted by the easy access to the fine collections of ancient embroideries in the Kensington Museum, and by the loan exhibition of old artistic work, which was there organized in 1875, at the suggestion of H.R.H. the President; and since then there have been three very interesting loan exhibitions in the rooms of the Royal School.

It was, indeed, necessary that the acting members should avail themselves of every means of instruction, in order to fit themselves for the task they had undertaken. They were expected at once to be competent to judge all old work, to name its style and date, and even sometimes its market value. They were to be able to repair and add to all old work; to know and teach every stitch, ancient and modern; and produce designs for anyperiod, Gothic, Renaissance, Elizabethan, James I., or Queen Anne; besides contemporary European work,—all different, and each requiring separate study.

Some important works have been produced which will illustrate what has been said:—

1. A suite of window curtains for her Majesty, at Windsor (style, nineteenth century; sunflowers).2. Curtains for a drawing-room for the Duchess of Buccleuch: crimson velvet and gold appliqué (Louis Quatorze).3. Curtain for Louisa, Lady Ashburton: coloured silk embroidery on white satin (Venetian, sixteenth century).4. Curtain, also for Louisa, Lady Ashburton: brown velvet and gold appliqué (Italian).5. Dado for the Hon. Mrs. Percy Wyndham: linen and crewels. Peacocks and vines (Mediæval).6. Furnishings and hangings for state bedroom for Countess Cowper, Panshanger: crimson satin, embroidered and coloured silks (Chinese).7. Curtains for music gallery for Mr. Arthur Balfour: blue silk, appliqué, velvet, and gold (Italian).

1. A suite of window curtains for her Majesty, at Windsor (style, nineteenth century; sunflowers).

2. Curtains for a drawing-room for the Duchess of Buccleuch: crimson velvet and gold appliqué (Louis Quatorze).

3. Curtain for Louisa, Lady Ashburton: coloured silk embroidery on white satin (Venetian, sixteenth century).

4. Curtain, also for Louisa, Lady Ashburton: brown velvet and gold appliqué (Italian).

5. Dado for the Hon. Mrs. Percy Wyndham: linen and crewels. Peacocks and vines (Mediæval).

6. Furnishings and hangings for state bedroom for Countess Cowper, Panshanger: crimson satin, embroidered and coloured silks (Chinese).

7. Curtains for music gallery for Mr. Arthur Balfour: blue silk, appliqué, velvet, and gold (Italian).

The earnest attempt to produce an artistic school of embroidery met with recognition and help from the highest authorities. Sir F. Leighton granted permission for appeals to his judgment. Mr. Burne Jones, Mr. Morris, Mr. Walter Crane, and Mr. Wade gave original designs.

We cannot guess whether the taste which has sprung up again so suddenly will last. Perhaps its catholicity may prolong its popularity, and something absolutely new in style may be evolved, which shall revive the credit of the “opus Anglicanum.” Of one thing we may be sure—that it is inherent in the nature of Englishwomen to employ their fingers. And the busy as well as the ignorantneed a guide to the principles of design, as well as the technical details of the art of embroidery. This should be supplied by the Royal School of Art Needlework, which by inculcating careful drawing, by reviving old traditions and criticizing fresh ideas, becomes a guarantee for the improvement of domestic decorative design.

FINIS.

FOOTNOTES:[555]“The people of Babylon, the Accadians, had a written literature and a civilization superior to that of the conquering Assyrians, who borrowed their art of writing, and probably their culture, which may have been the centre and starting-point of the western civilization of Asia, and therefore the origin of our own. Accadian civilization was anterior to that of the Phœnicians and the Greeks, and is now received in these later years as the original form, and become again the heritage of mankind. It has been said that Assyrian art was destitute of originality, and to that of the Accadians, which they adopted, we ourselves owe our first customs and ideas. Four thousand years ago these people possessed a culture which in many of its details resembles that of our country and time.”—“Assyrian Life and History,” p. 66, by M. Harkness and Stuart Poole.[556]“The arts of spinning and the manufacture of linen were introduced into Europe and drifted into Britain in the Neolithic Age. They have been preserved with but little variation from that period down to the present day in certain remote parts of Europe, and have only been superseded in modern times by the complicated machinery so familiar to us.... The spindle and distaff are proved by the perforated spindle-whorls, made of stone, pottery, or bone, commonly met with in Neolithic habitations or tombs. The thread is proved, by discoveries in the Swiss lakes, to have been made of flax; and the combs that have been found for pushing the threads of the warp on the weft show that it was woven into linen on some sort of loom.”—Boyd Dawkins’ “Early Man in Britain,” p. 275.[557]I am aware that the presence of the Phœnicians (or Carthaginians) on our coasts has been disputed; but I think that the evidence of the Etruscan ornaments I have mentioned gives more than probability to the truth of Pliny’s account of the expedition of Himilco from Gades, 500B.C.By some he is supposed to have been a contemporary of Hanno, and of the third centuryB.C.There is some confusion in the imperfect record of the voyage; but it is difficult to interpret it otherwise than that he touched at several points north of Gaul. (See Boyd Dawkins’ “Early Man in Britain,” pp. 457-461; see also Perrot and Chipiez, “L’Histoire de l’Art dans l’Antiquité,” t. iii.; “Phénicie et Cypre,” p. 48.) For a contrary opinion, see Elton’s “Origins of English History.” Elton ascribes the first knowledge of the British islands to the voyage of Pytheas in the fourth centuryB.C.; he acknowledges that the geography of Britain was well known to the Greeks in the time of Alexander the Great. We owe to Pliny and Strabo the few fragments from Pytheas that have been rescued from oblivion, and to Pliny the notices of Himilco. (See Bouillet’s “Dictionnaire d’Histoire et de Géographie.”)[558]See Rock’s Introduction to “Textile Fabrics,” p. xii.[559]I give the following amusing tradition, which was probably founded on the celebrity of the English pearl embroidery of the Anglo-Saxon times, of which much went to Rome:—“Then Cæsar, like a conqueror, with a great number of prisoners sailed into France, and so to Rome, where after his return out of Brytaine, hee consecrated to Venus a surcote of Brytaine pearles, the desire whereof partly moved him to invade this country.”—(Stow’s “Annales,” p. 14, ed. 1634.) Tacitus, in the Agricola 12, says that British pearls are grey and livid.[560]See Rock’s Introduction to “Textile Fabrics,” p. xii.[561]These are the poor results of the Roman invasion and neglect of Britain during their occupation. The second invasion of Britain by the Romans, under Claudius, was caused by the squabbles between the chiefs of the different tribes. Comnenus, the prince of the Atrebates, was at war with the sons of Cunobelinus (Cymbeline). He took his grievances to Rome, and the Roman legions were despatched to settle the matter, and to dazzle the world by the echoes rather than the facts of the triumphant victories in the land of the “wintry pole.” Claudius marched with elephants clad in mail, and bearing turrets filled with slingers and bowmen, accompanied by Belgic pikemen and Batavians from the islands in the Rhine,A.D.44. The dress of Claudius on his return from Britain was purple, with an ivory sceptre and crown of gold oak leaves. One officer alone was entitled to wear a tunic embroidered with golden palms, in token of a former victory. The Celts, the Gauls, the Gaels, the Picts, the Scots, and the Saxons,—all crowded and settled in Britain when the Romans left it in 410, after nearly four hundred years of misgovernment. (See Elton’s “Origins of English History,” pp. 306-308.)[562]Semper, “Der Stil,” pp. 133, 134. See Louis Viardot, “Des Origines Traditionnelles de la Peinture en Italie” (Paris, 1840), p. 53, note. Also see “Les Ducs de Bourgogne,” part ii. vol. ii. p. 243, No. 4092. Muratori was born in 1672; and he says the Empress Helena’s work was in existence in the beginning of the eighteenth century. (See p.316,ante.)[563]When St. Augustine (546) came to preach to the Anglo-Saxons, he had a banner, fastened to a cross, carried before him, on which was embroidered the image of our Lord. (See Mrs. Lawrence’s “Woman in England,” pp. 296, 297.) Probably this was Roman work.[564]Quoted by Mrs. Lawrence, “Woman in England,” p. 49, from one of Adhelme’s Latin poems. Adhelme, Bishop of Sherborne, died in 709, having been thirty years a bishop. He wrote Latin poems, of which the most important, in praise of virginity, is in the Lambeth Library, No. 200. The MS. contains his portrait. See Strutt’s “English Dresses,” ed. Planché.[565]An Anglo-Saxon lady named Aedelswitha, living near Whitby, in the sixth century, collected a number of girls and taught them to produce admirable embroideries for the benefit of the monastery. (See Rock’s “Church of our Fathers,” p. 273; also his Introduction to “Textiles,” p. xxvii.) Bock speaks of Hrothgar’s tapestries, embroidered with gold, of the thirteenth century. SeeAppendix 8. But the earliest English tapestry I have seen is that in York Minster, in which are inwoven the arms of Scrope, 1390. Wright says of the Anglo-Saxon women, “In their chamber, besides spinning and weaving, the ladies were employed in needlework and embroidery, and the Saxon ladies were so skilful in this art, that their works were celebrated on the Continent.”—“History of Manners in England during the Middle Ages,” by Thomas Wright, p. 52.[566]See Mrs. Lawrence’s “Woman in England,” i. p. 296-7.[567]See Rock’s “Church of our Fathers,” ii. p. 272, quoting Th. Stubbs. “Acta Pontif. Th. ed. Twysden,” 1. ii. p. 1699; also Bock’s “Liturgische Gewänder,” i. p. 212, and p. 325ante.[568]Appendix 9.[569]This could hardly have been intended originally for an ecclesiastical purpose. It sounds as if it were a stray fragment from Græco-Roman art, rather than a survival of the classical legend employed as a pretty motive for decoration. Wiglaf’s veil is named by Ingulphus. See Strutt’s “English Dresses,” pp. 3, 7. See also “Historia Eliensis,” l. 2, ed. Stewart, p. 183.[570]See Rock’s “Textile Fabrics,” p. xxi.; also for Council of Cloveshoe, see his “Church of Our Fathers,” p. 14.[571]The Benedictines drained the marshes of Lincolnshire and Somersetshire to employ the poor in the eighth century. St. Bennet travelled to France and Italy, and brought back from his seven journeys cunning artificers inglassand stone, besides costly books and copies of the Scriptures, in order (as is expressly said by Bede) that the ignorant might learn from them, as others learned from books. See Mrs. Jameson’s “Legends of the Monastic Orders,” pp. 56, 57.[572]See Raine’s “St. Cuthbert,” pp. 50-209. Mr. Raine describes it as being “of woven gold, with spaces left vacant for needlework embroidery.” Beautifully drawn majestic figures stand in niches on rainbow-coloured clouds, and the effect is that of an illumination of the ninth century. The style is rather Greek or Byzantine than Anglo-Saxon. For further notices of St. Cuthbert’s relics, see chapter onMaterials,ante; also see Rock’s “Introduction,” p. cxvii.[573]Appendix 10.[574]See “Calendar of the Anglican Church,” by J. H. Parker (1851): “St. Dunstan was not only a patron of the useful and fine arts, but also a great proficient in them himself; and his almost contemporary biographers speak of him as a poet, painter, and musician, and so skilled a worker in metals that he made many of the church vessels in use at Glastonbury.”[575]See Rock’s “Church of our Fathers,” p. 270.[576]Strutt’s “English Dresses,” p. 70, quoted from Ingulphus’ “History of Croyland Abbey.”[577]Shot, or iridescent materials, were then and had been some time manufactured at Tinnis in Egypt, a city now effaced. It was called “bouqualemoun,” and employed for dresses and hangings for the Khalifs. See Schefer’s “Relations du Voyage de Nassiri Khosrau,” p. cxi. The original was written in the middle of the eleventh century.[578]See Duchêsne’s “Historiæ Normanorum.” Fol. Paris, 1519.[579]Queen Matilda was not the originator of the idea that a hero’s deeds might be recorded by his wife’s needle. Penelope wove the deeds of Ulysses on her loom, and it is suggested by Aristarchus that her peplos served as an historical document for Homer’s “Iliad.” See Rossignol’s “Les Artistes Homériques,” pp. 72, 73, cited by Louis de Ronchaud in his “La Tapisserie,” p. 32. Gudrun, like the Homeric woman, embroidered the history of Siegfried and his ancestors, and Aelfled that of the achievements of her husband, Duke Brithnod. The Saga of Charlemagne is said to have been embroidered on twenty-six ells of linen, and hung in a church in Iceland.[580]Domesday ed. Record Commission, under head of Roberte de Oilgi, in co. Buckingham. See also another entry under Wilts, where “Leivede” is spoken of as working auriphrigium for King Edward and his Queen.[581]Canon Jackson, writing of embroidery, says: “That this was cared for in the great monasteries at this early date appears from a MS. register of Glastonbury Abbey in the possession of the Marquis of Bath. It is called the Liber Henrici de Soliaco, and gives an account of the affairs of that abbey inA.D.1189 (Richard I.).” There was a special official whose business it was to provide the monastery with church ornaments generally, and specially with “aurifrigium,” or gold embroidery, on vestments. For this a house and land, with an annual allowance of food, was set apart. Another tenant also held some land, to which was attached the obligation to find a “worker in gold.”—Letter from Canon Jackson to the Author.[582]See Mrs. Lawrence’s “Woman in England,” vol. i. p. 360. She quotes an entry from Madox, a sum of £80 (equal to £1400 of to-day) for an embroidered robe for the Queen, paid by the Sheriffs of London.[583]Matthew Paris, “Vit. Abb. St. Albani.” p. 46; Rock, “Church of our Fathers,” vol ii. p. 278.[584]See Mrs. Dolby’s Introduction to “Church Vestments.”[585]Strutt’s “Royal and Ecclesiastical Antiquities of England,” ed. mdcclxxiii.[586]Though the work was domestic, the materials came from the East and the South; and while the woven gold of Sicily and Spain was merely base metal on gilded parchment, our laws were directed to the preservation of pure metals for textile purposes.[587]Matthew Paris, “Hist. Angl.,” p. 473, ed. Paris, 1644. See Hartshorne’s “Mediæval Embroideries,” pp. 23, 24.[588]The reproduction by the Arundel Society of this picture will familiarize those who care for English art with what is, perhaps, its finest example, next to the crosses of Queen Eleanor. It has been erroneously attributed to Van Eyk, but it is undoubtedly English. That its art is contemporary with the time of Richard II., is shown by the design and motives of the woven materials and embroidery in which the king and his attendant saints are clothed. They remind us of the piece of silk in the Kensington Museum, into which are woven (probably in Sicilian looms) the cognizance of the King’s grandfather, the sun with rays; that of his mother Joan, the white hart; and his own, his dog Math. This is a good example of the value of an individual pattern. It helps us to affix dates to other specimens of similar style.[589]See Miss Strickland’s mention of the Countess of Oxford in her “Life of Queen Elizabeth of York,” p. 46.[590]From the fragments found, it appeared that King John’s mantle was of a strong red silk. Till lately, when it was effaced by being completely gilt, the mantle on the recumbent effigy was of a bright red, bordered with gold and gems. See Greene’s “Worcester,” p. 3, quoted in the “Report of the Archæological Association of Worcester,” p. 53.[591]“Notice sur les Attaches d’un Sceau,” par M. Léopold Delisle (Paris, 1854); and also Rock’s Introduction to “Textile Fabrics,” p. xxii.[592]The opus Anglicanum often included borders and orphreys set with jewellers’ work (or its imitation, worked in gold thread), gems, and pearls.[593]Edward III. had from William de Courtenay an embroidered garment, “inwrought with pelicans, images, and tabernacles of gold. The tabernacles were like niches, with pinnacles and roofs.”[594]Bock, “Liturgische Gewänder,” i. p. 211, says there is a piece of opus Anglicanum in the treasury of Aix-la-Chapelle, called the Cope of Leo III.[595]For further notice of the “opus Anglicanum,” see chapter (ante) onecclesiastical embroideries.[596]Appendix 11.[597]The orphreys are probably not the original work.[598]“Testamenta Vetusta,” ed. Nicholas, t. i. p. 33.[599]Woolstrope, Lincolnshire. Collier’s “Ecclesiastical History of Great Britain,” v. p. 3 (ed. Lothbury). This proves that the monks sometimes plied the needle.[600]See Hall’s “Union of the Houses of York and Lancaster,” pp. lxxv-lxxxiii.[601]See Brewer’s “Reign of Henry VIII.,” vol. i. pp. 347-376.[602]In the Public Record Office is an inventory of Lord Monteagle’s property, 1523A.D.; amongst other things, is named a piece of Spanish work, “eight partletts garnished with gold and black silk work.” This Spanish work is rare, but the description reminds us of a specimen belonging to Louisa, Marchioness of Waterford (Plate82)—a square of linen, worked with ostriches, turkeys, and eagles in gold and black silk stitches. See Mrs. Palliser’s “History of Lace,” pp. 6, 12.[603]Quoted from Cavendish by Miss Strickland, “Queens of England,” iv. p. 132.[604]“The invalid queen, in her moments of convalescence, soothed her cares and miseries at the embroidery frame. Many specimens of her needlework were extant in the reign of James I., and are thus celebrated by Taylor, the poet of the needle:—“‘Mary here the sceptre sway’d;And though she were no queen of mighty power,Her memory will never be decay’d,Nor yet her works forgotten. In the Tower,In Windsor Castle, and in Hampton Court,—In that most pompous room called Paradise,—Whoever pleases thither to resort,May see some works of hers of wondrous price.Her greatness held it no disreputationTo hold the needle in her royal hand,Which was a good example to our nationTo banish idleness throughout the land.And thus this queen in wisdom thought it fit;The needle’s work pleased her, and she graced it.’“According to Taylor, Mary finished the splendid and elaborate tapestry begun by her mother.”—Miss Strickland’s “Life of Mary Tudor,” v. p. 417.[605]“After the action at D’Arbre de Guise, Elizabeth (of England) sent to Henri IV. a scarf embroidered by her own hand. ‘Monsieur mon bon frère,’ wrote the queen, ‘its value is naught in comparison to the dignity of the personage for whom it is destined; but I supplicate you to hide its defects under the wings of your good charity, and to accept my little present in remembrance of me.’”—“Henri IV.,” by Miss Freer, p. 311.[606]In the year 1683 the Marchese Luca Casimiero degl’ Albizzi visited England, and his travels were recorded in manuscript by Dr. A. Forzoni. At Windsor he observed over a chimney-piece a finely wrought piece of embroidery—“un educazione di fanciulli”—by the hands of Mary Queen of Scots.—Loftie’s “History of Old London;” also article on “Royal Picture Galleries,” by George Scharf, p. 361 (1867).[607]“The Company of the Embroiderers can make appear by their worthy and famous pieces of art that they have been of ancient use and eminence, as is to be seen in divers places at this day; but in the matter of their incorporation, it hath relation to the fourth year of Queen Elizabeth.”—Stow’s “Survey of London and Westminster,” part ii. p. 216; also see Edmonson’s “Heraldry,” vol. i. (1780). “The Keepers, Wardens, and Company of the Broiderie of London.... 2 keepers and 40 assistants, and the livery consists of 115 members. They have a small but convenient hall in Gutter Lane.”—Maitland’s “History of London,” book iii. p. 602.[608]The fashion of this work began much earlier, for we find in the inventory of “St. James’s House, nigh Westminster,” 1549: “42 Item. A table wherein is a man holding a sword in his one hand and a sceptre in his other hand of needlework, partly garnished with seed pearl” (p. 307).[609]The merit or blame of this rounded padded work (a caricature of the raised embroidery of the opus Anglicanum) is often erroneously awarded to the “nuns of Little Gidding.” The earliest specimens we know of this “embroidery on the stamp” are German. At Coire in the Grisons, at Zurich (see chapter onecclesiastical art), and in the National Museum at Munich are some very beautiful examples. The Italians also executed elaborate little pictures in this manner; but I cannot praise it however refined in execution or beautiful the design. I have seen no English specimens that are not beneath criticism; they are only funny.[610]In the Calendar of the State Papers Office (Domestic, Charles I., vol. clxix. p. 12), Mrs. H. Senior sues the Earl of Thomond for £200 per annum, her pay for teaching his daughter needlework. Mrs. Hutchinson, in her Memoir, says she had eight tutors when she was seven years old, and one of them taught her needlework. This shows how highly this accomplishment was still considered in the days of Charles I. and the Commonwealth. Later, Evelyn speaks of the “new bed of Charles II.’s queen, the embroidery of which cost £3000” (Evelyn’s Memoirs, January 24, 1687). Evelyn says of his own daughter Susanna, who married William Draper: “She had a peculiar talent in designe, as painting in oil and miniature, and an extraordinary genius for whatever hands can do with a needle.” See Evelyn’s “Memoirs,” April 27, 1693; also see Mrs. Palliser’s “History of Lace,” pp. 7, 8.[611]The tree-pattern, already common in the latter days of Elizabeth, reappeared on a dress worn by the Duchess of Queensberry, and described by Mrs. Delany; she says, “A white satin embroidered at the bottom with brown hills, covered with all sorts of weeds, and with a brown stump, broken and worked in chenille, and garlanded nasturtiums, honeysuckles, periwinkles, convolvuluses, and weeds, many of the leaves finished with gold.” Mrs. Delany does not appreciate this ancient pattern.[612]Queen Mary only knotted fringes. Bishop Burnett says: “It was strange to see a queen work so many hours a day.” Sir E. Sedley, in his epigram on the “Royal Knotter,” says,—“Who, when she rides in coach abroad,Is always knotting threads.”Probably it was the fashion, as Madame de Maintenon always worked during her drives with the king, which doubtless prevented her dying ofennui![613]I quote from theSpectator, No. 606: “Let no virgin receive her lover, except in a suit of her own embroidery.”[614]Her style was really legitimate to the art. It was flower-painting with the needle. Miss Moritt copied both figures and landscapes, with wonderful taste and knowledge of drawing. Miss Linwood’s and Mrs. Delany’s productions are justly celebrated astours de force, but they caused the downfall of the art by leading it on the wrong track.[615]Lord Houghton alludes to H.R.H.’s patronage of the revival of embroidery in his paraphrase of the “Story of Arachne,” p. 238,ante.[616]“Opposed to the ‘utility stitches’ are the art needlework schools that have branched out in many directions from New York.... The impulse that led to their formation was derived from South Kensington (England), and affords a striking instance of the ramifications of an organization.”—Atlantic Monthly(“Women in Organization”), Sept., 1880.

[555]“The people of Babylon, the Accadians, had a written literature and a civilization superior to that of the conquering Assyrians, who borrowed their art of writing, and probably their culture, which may have been the centre and starting-point of the western civilization of Asia, and therefore the origin of our own. Accadian civilization was anterior to that of the Phœnicians and the Greeks, and is now received in these later years as the original form, and become again the heritage of mankind. It has been said that Assyrian art was destitute of originality, and to that of the Accadians, which they adopted, we ourselves owe our first customs and ideas. Four thousand years ago these people possessed a culture which in many of its details resembles that of our country and time.”—“Assyrian Life and History,” p. 66, by M. Harkness and Stuart Poole.

[556]“The arts of spinning and the manufacture of linen were introduced into Europe and drifted into Britain in the Neolithic Age. They have been preserved with but little variation from that period down to the present day in certain remote parts of Europe, and have only been superseded in modern times by the complicated machinery so familiar to us.... The spindle and distaff are proved by the perforated spindle-whorls, made of stone, pottery, or bone, commonly met with in Neolithic habitations or tombs. The thread is proved, by discoveries in the Swiss lakes, to have been made of flax; and the combs that have been found for pushing the threads of the warp on the weft show that it was woven into linen on some sort of loom.”—Boyd Dawkins’ “Early Man in Britain,” p. 275.

[557]I am aware that the presence of the Phœnicians (or Carthaginians) on our coasts has been disputed; but I think that the evidence of the Etruscan ornaments I have mentioned gives more than probability to the truth of Pliny’s account of the expedition of Himilco from Gades, 500B.C.By some he is supposed to have been a contemporary of Hanno, and of the third centuryB.C.There is some confusion in the imperfect record of the voyage; but it is difficult to interpret it otherwise than that he touched at several points north of Gaul. (See Boyd Dawkins’ “Early Man in Britain,” pp. 457-461; see also Perrot and Chipiez, “L’Histoire de l’Art dans l’Antiquité,” t. iii.; “Phénicie et Cypre,” p. 48.) For a contrary opinion, see Elton’s “Origins of English History.” Elton ascribes the first knowledge of the British islands to the voyage of Pytheas in the fourth centuryB.C.; he acknowledges that the geography of Britain was well known to the Greeks in the time of Alexander the Great. We owe to Pliny and Strabo the few fragments from Pytheas that have been rescued from oblivion, and to Pliny the notices of Himilco. (See Bouillet’s “Dictionnaire d’Histoire et de Géographie.”)

[558]See Rock’s Introduction to “Textile Fabrics,” p. xii.

[559]I give the following amusing tradition, which was probably founded on the celebrity of the English pearl embroidery of the Anglo-Saxon times, of which much went to Rome:—“Then Cæsar, like a conqueror, with a great number of prisoners sailed into France, and so to Rome, where after his return out of Brytaine, hee consecrated to Venus a surcote of Brytaine pearles, the desire whereof partly moved him to invade this country.”—(Stow’s “Annales,” p. 14, ed. 1634.) Tacitus, in the Agricola 12, says that British pearls are grey and livid.

[559]I give the following amusing tradition, which was probably founded on the celebrity of the English pearl embroidery of the Anglo-Saxon times, of which much went to Rome:—

“Then Cæsar, like a conqueror, with a great number of prisoners sailed into France, and so to Rome, where after his return out of Brytaine, hee consecrated to Venus a surcote of Brytaine pearles, the desire whereof partly moved him to invade this country.”—(Stow’s “Annales,” p. 14, ed. 1634.) Tacitus, in the Agricola 12, says that British pearls are grey and livid.

[560]See Rock’s Introduction to “Textile Fabrics,” p. xii.

[561]These are the poor results of the Roman invasion and neglect of Britain during their occupation. The second invasion of Britain by the Romans, under Claudius, was caused by the squabbles between the chiefs of the different tribes. Comnenus, the prince of the Atrebates, was at war with the sons of Cunobelinus (Cymbeline). He took his grievances to Rome, and the Roman legions were despatched to settle the matter, and to dazzle the world by the echoes rather than the facts of the triumphant victories in the land of the “wintry pole.” Claudius marched with elephants clad in mail, and bearing turrets filled with slingers and bowmen, accompanied by Belgic pikemen and Batavians from the islands in the Rhine,A.D.44. The dress of Claudius on his return from Britain was purple, with an ivory sceptre and crown of gold oak leaves. One officer alone was entitled to wear a tunic embroidered with golden palms, in token of a former victory. The Celts, the Gauls, the Gaels, the Picts, the Scots, and the Saxons,—all crowded and settled in Britain when the Romans left it in 410, after nearly four hundred years of misgovernment. (See Elton’s “Origins of English History,” pp. 306-308.)

[562]Semper, “Der Stil,” pp. 133, 134. See Louis Viardot, “Des Origines Traditionnelles de la Peinture en Italie” (Paris, 1840), p. 53, note. Also see “Les Ducs de Bourgogne,” part ii. vol. ii. p. 243, No. 4092. Muratori was born in 1672; and he says the Empress Helena’s work was in existence in the beginning of the eighteenth century. (See p.316,ante.)

[563]When St. Augustine (546) came to preach to the Anglo-Saxons, he had a banner, fastened to a cross, carried before him, on which was embroidered the image of our Lord. (See Mrs. Lawrence’s “Woman in England,” pp. 296, 297.) Probably this was Roman work.

[564]Quoted by Mrs. Lawrence, “Woman in England,” p. 49, from one of Adhelme’s Latin poems. Adhelme, Bishop of Sherborne, died in 709, having been thirty years a bishop. He wrote Latin poems, of which the most important, in praise of virginity, is in the Lambeth Library, No. 200. The MS. contains his portrait. See Strutt’s “English Dresses,” ed. Planché.

[565]An Anglo-Saxon lady named Aedelswitha, living near Whitby, in the sixth century, collected a number of girls and taught them to produce admirable embroideries for the benefit of the monastery. (See Rock’s “Church of our Fathers,” p. 273; also his Introduction to “Textiles,” p. xxvii.) Bock speaks of Hrothgar’s tapestries, embroidered with gold, of the thirteenth century. SeeAppendix 8. But the earliest English tapestry I have seen is that in York Minster, in which are inwoven the arms of Scrope, 1390. Wright says of the Anglo-Saxon women, “In their chamber, besides spinning and weaving, the ladies were employed in needlework and embroidery, and the Saxon ladies were so skilful in this art, that their works were celebrated on the Continent.”—“History of Manners in England during the Middle Ages,” by Thomas Wright, p. 52.

[566]See Mrs. Lawrence’s “Woman in England,” i. p. 296-7.

[567]See Rock’s “Church of our Fathers,” ii. p. 272, quoting Th. Stubbs. “Acta Pontif. Th. ed. Twysden,” 1. ii. p. 1699; also Bock’s “Liturgische Gewänder,” i. p. 212, and p. 325ante.

[568]Appendix 9.

[569]This could hardly have been intended originally for an ecclesiastical purpose. It sounds as if it were a stray fragment from Græco-Roman art, rather than a survival of the classical legend employed as a pretty motive for decoration. Wiglaf’s veil is named by Ingulphus. See Strutt’s “English Dresses,” pp. 3, 7. See also “Historia Eliensis,” l. 2, ed. Stewart, p. 183.

[570]See Rock’s “Textile Fabrics,” p. xxi.; also for Council of Cloveshoe, see his “Church of Our Fathers,” p. 14.

[571]The Benedictines drained the marshes of Lincolnshire and Somersetshire to employ the poor in the eighth century. St. Bennet travelled to France and Italy, and brought back from his seven journeys cunning artificers inglassand stone, besides costly books and copies of the Scriptures, in order (as is expressly said by Bede) that the ignorant might learn from them, as others learned from books. See Mrs. Jameson’s “Legends of the Monastic Orders,” pp. 56, 57.

[572]See Raine’s “St. Cuthbert,” pp. 50-209. Mr. Raine describes it as being “of woven gold, with spaces left vacant for needlework embroidery.” Beautifully drawn majestic figures stand in niches on rainbow-coloured clouds, and the effect is that of an illumination of the ninth century. The style is rather Greek or Byzantine than Anglo-Saxon. For further notices of St. Cuthbert’s relics, see chapter onMaterials,ante; also see Rock’s “Introduction,” p. cxvii.

[573]Appendix 10.

[574]See “Calendar of the Anglican Church,” by J. H. Parker (1851): “St. Dunstan was not only a patron of the useful and fine arts, but also a great proficient in them himself; and his almost contemporary biographers speak of him as a poet, painter, and musician, and so skilled a worker in metals that he made many of the church vessels in use at Glastonbury.”

[575]See Rock’s “Church of our Fathers,” p. 270.

[576]Strutt’s “English Dresses,” p. 70, quoted from Ingulphus’ “History of Croyland Abbey.”

[577]Shot, or iridescent materials, were then and had been some time manufactured at Tinnis in Egypt, a city now effaced. It was called “bouqualemoun,” and employed for dresses and hangings for the Khalifs. See Schefer’s “Relations du Voyage de Nassiri Khosrau,” p. cxi. The original was written in the middle of the eleventh century.

[578]See Duchêsne’s “Historiæ Normanorum.” Fol. Paris, 1519.

[579]Queen Matilda was not the originator of the idea that a hero’s deeds might be recorded by his wife’s needle. Penelope wove the deeds of Ulysses on her loom, and it is suggested by Aristarchus that her peplos served as an historical document for Homer’s “Iliad.” See Rossignol’s “Les Artistes Homériques,” pp. 72, 73, cited by Louis de Ronchaud in his “La Tapisserie,” p. 32. Gudrun, like the Homeric woman, embroidered the history of Siegfried and his ancestors, and Aelfled that of the achievements of her husband, Duke Brithnod. The Saga of Charlemagne is said to have been embroidered on twenty-six ells of linen, and hung in a church in Iceland.

[580]Domesday ed. Record Commission, under head of Roberte de Oilgi, in co. Buckingham. See also another entry under Wilts, where “Leivede” is spoken of as working auriphrigium for King Edward and his Queen.

[581]Canon Jackson, writing of embroidery, says: “That this was cared for in the great monasteries at this early date appears from a MS. register of Glastonbury Abbey in the possession of the Marquis of Bath. It is called the Liber Henrici de Soliaco, and gives an account of the affairs of that abbey inA.D.1189 (Richard I.).” There was a special official whose business it was to provide the monastery with church ornaments generally, and specially with “aurifrigium,” or gold embroidery, on vestments. For this a house and land, with an annual allowance of food, was set apart. Another tenant also held some land, to which was attached the obligation to find a “worker in gold.”—Letter from Canon Jackson to the Author.

[582]See Mrs. Lawrence’s “Woman in England,” vol. i. p. 360. She quotes an entry from Madox, a sum of £80 (equal to £1400 of to-day) for an embroidered robe for the Queen, paid by the Sheriffs of London.

[583]Matthew Paris, “Vit. Abb. St. Albani.” p. 46; Rock, “Church of our Fathers,” vol ii. p. 278.

[584]See Mrs. Dolby’s Introduction to “Church Vestments.”

[585]Strutt’s “Royal and Ecclesiastical Antiquities of England,” ed. mdcclxxiii.

[586]Though the work was domestic, the materials came from the East and the South; and while the woven gold of Sicily and Spain was merely base metal on gilded parchment, our laws were directed to the preservation of pure metals for textile purposes.

[587]Matthew Paris, “Hist. Angl.,” p. 473, ed. Paris, 1644. See Hartshorne’s “Mediæval Embroideries,” pp. 23, 24.

[588]The reproduction by the Arundel Society of this picture will familiarize those who care for English art with what is, perhaps, its finest example, next to the crosses of Queen Eleanor. It has been erroneously attributed to Van Eyk, but it is undoubtedly English. That its art is contemporary with the time of Richard II., is shown by the design and motives of the woven materials and embroidery in which the king and his attendant saints are clothed. They remind us of the piece of silk in the Kensington Museum, into which are woven (probably in Sicilian looms) the cognizance of the King’s grandfather, the sun with rays; that of his mother Joan, the white hart; and his own, his dog Math. This is a good example of the value of an individual pattern. It helps us to affix dates to other specimens of similar style.

[589]See Miss Strickland’s mention of the Countess of Oxford in her “Life of Queen Elizabeth of York,” p. 46.

[590]From the fragments found, it appeared that King John’s mantle was of a strong red silk. Till lately, when it was effaced by being completely gilt, the mantle on the recumbent effigy was of a bright red, bordered with gold and gems. See Greene’s “Worcester,” p. 3, quoted in the “Report of the Archæological Association of Worcester,” p. 53.

[591]“Notice sur les Attaches d’un Sceau,” par M. Léopold Delisle (Paris, 1854); and also Rock’s Introduction to “Textile Fabrics,” p. xxii.

[592]The opus Anglicanum often included borders and orphreys set with jewellers’ work (or its imitation, worked in gold thread), gems, and pearls.

[593]Edward III. had from William de Courtenay an embroidered garment, “inwrought with pelicans, images, and tabernacles of gold. The tabernacles were like niches, with pinnacles and roofs.”

[594]Bock, “Liturgische Gewänder,” i. p. 211, says there is a piece of opus Anglicanum in the treasury of Aix-la-Chapelle, called the Cope of Leo III.

[595]For further notice of the “opus Anglicanum,” see chapter (ante) onecclesiastical embroideries.

[596]Appendix 11.

[597]The orphreys are probably not the original work.

[598]“Testamenta Vetusta,” ed. Nicholas, t. i. p. 33.

[599]Woolstrope, Lincolnshire. Collier’s “Ecclesiastical History of Great Britain,” v. p. 3 (ed. Lothbury). This proves that the monks sometimes plied the needle.

[600]See Hall’s “Union of the Houses of York and Lancaster,” pp. lxxv-lxxxiii.

[601]See Brewer’s “Reign of Henry VIII.,” vol. i. pp. 347-376.

[602]In the Public Record Office is an inventory of Lord Monteagle’s property, 1523A.D.; amongst other things, is named a piece of Spanish work, “eight partletts garnished with gold and black silk work.” This Spanish work is rare, but the description reminds us of a specimen belonging to Louisa, Marchioness of Waterford (Plate82)—a square of linen, worked with ostriches, turkeys, and eagles in gold and black silk stitches. See Mrs. Palliser’s “History of Lace,” pp. 6, 12.

[603]Quoted from Cavendish by Miss Strickland, “Queens of England,” iv. p. 132.

[604]“The invalid queen, in her moments of convalescence, soothed her cares and miseries at the embroidery frame. Many specimens of her needlework were extant in the reign of James I., and are thus celebrated by Taylor, the poet of the needle:—“‘Mary here the sceptre sway’d;And though she were no queen of mighty power,Her memory will never be decay’d,Nor yet her works forgotten. In the Tower,In Windsor Castle, and in Hampton Court,—In that most pompous room called Paradise,—Whoever pleases thither to resort,May see some works of hers of wondrous price.Her greatness held it no disreputationTo hold the needle in her royal hand,Which was a good example to our nationTo banish idleness throughout the land.And thus this queen in wisdom thought it fit;The needle’s work pleased her, and she graced it.’“According to Taylor, Mary finished the splendid and elaborate tapestry begun by her mother.”—Miss Strickland’s “Life of Mary Tudor,” v. p. 417.

“‘Mary here the sceptre sway’d;And though she were no queen of mighty power,Her memory will never be decay’d,Nor yet her works forgotten. In the Tower,In Windsor Castle, and in Hampton Court,—In that most pompous room called Paradise,—Whoever pleases thither to resort,May see some works of hers of wondrous price.Her greatness held it no disreputationTo hold the needle in her royal hand,Which was a good example to our nationTo banish idleness throughout the land.And thus this queen in wisdom thought it fit;The needle’s work pleased her, and she graced it.’

“According to Taylor, Mary finished the splendid and elaborate tapestry begun by her mother.”—Miss Strickland’s “Life of Mary Tudor,” v. p. 417.

[605]“After the action at D’Arbre de Guise, Elizabeth (of England) sent to Henri IV. a scarf embroidered by her own hand. ‘Monsieur mon bon frère,’ wrote the queen, ‘its value is naught in comparison to the dignity of the personage for whom it is destined; but I supplicate you to hide its defects under the wings of your good charity, and to accept my little present in remembrance of me.’”—“Henri IV.,” by Miss Freer, p. 311.

[606]In the year 1683 the Marchese Luca Casimiero degl’ Albizzi visited England, and his travels were recorded in manuscript by Dr. A. Forzoni. At Windsor he observed over a chimney-piece a finely wrought piece of embroidery—“un educazione di fanciulli”—by the hands of Mary Queen of Scots.—Loftie’s “History of Old London;” also article on “Royal Picture Galleries,” by George Scharf, p. 361 (1867).

[607]“The Company of the Embroiderers can make appear by their worthy and famous pieces of art that they have been of ancient use and eminence, as is to be seen in divers places at this day; but in the matter of their incorporation, it hath relation to the fourth year of Queen Elizabeth.”—Stow’s “Survey of London and Westminster,” part ii. p. 216; also see Edmonson’s “Heraldry,” vol. i. (1780). “The Keepers, Wardens, and Company of the Broiderie of London.... 2 keepers and 40 assistants, and the livery consists of 115 members. They have a small but convenient hall in Gutter Lane.”—Maitland’s “History of London,” book iii. p. 602.

[608]The fashion of this work began much earlier, for we find in the inventory of “St. James’s House, nigh Westminster,” 1549: “42 Item. A table wherein is a man holding a sword in his one hand and a sceptre in his other hand of needlework, partly garnished with seed pearl” (p. 307).

[609]The merit or blame of this rounded padded work (a caricature of the raised embroidery of the opus Anglicanum) is often erroneously awarded to the “nuns of Little Gidding.” The earliest specimens we know of this “embroidery on the stamp” are German. At Coire in the Grisons, at Zurich (see chapter onecclesiastical art), and in the National Museum at Munich are some very beautiful examples. The Italians also executed elaborate little pictures in this manner; but I cannot praise it however refined in execution or beautiful the design. I have seen no English specimens that are not beneath criticism; they are only funny.

[610]In the Calendar of the State Papers Office (Domestic, Charles I., vol. clxix. p. 12), Mrs. H. Senior sues the Earl of Thomond for £200 per annum, her pay for teaching his daughter needlework. Mrs. Hutchinson, in her Memoir, says she had eight tutors when she was seven years old, and one of them taught her needlework. This shows how highly this accomplishment was still considered in the days of Charles I. and the Commonwealth. Later, Evelyn speaks of the “new bed of Charles II.’s queen, the embroidery of which cost £3000” (Evelyn’s Memoirs, January 24, 1687). Evelyn says of his own daughter Susanna, who married William Draper: “She had a peculiar talent in designe, as painting in oil and miniature, and an extraordinary genius for whatever hands can do with a needle.” See Evelyn’s “Memoirs,” April 27, 1693; also see Mrs. Palliser’s “History of Lace,” pp. 7, 8.

[611]The tree-pattern, already common in the latter days of Elizabeth, reappeared on a dress worn by the Duchess of Queensberry, and described by Mrs. Delany; she says, “A white satin embroidered at the bottom with brown hills, covered with all sorts of weeds, and with a brown stump, broken and worked in chenille, and garlanded nasturtiums, honeysuckles, periwinkles, convolvuluses, and weeds, many of the leaves finished with gold.” Mrs. Delany does not appreciate this ancient pattern.

[612]Queen Mary only knotted fringes. Bishop Burnett says: “It was strange to see a queen work so many hours a day.” Sir E. Sedley, in his epigram on the “Royal Knotter,” says,—“Who, when she rides in coach abroad,Is always knotting threads.”Probably it was the fashion, as Madame de Maintenon always worked during her drives with the king, which doubtless prevented her dying ofennui!

[612]Queen Mary only knotted fringes. Bishop Burnett says: “It was strange to see a queen work so many hours a day.” Sir E. Sedley, in his epigram on the “Royal Knotter,” says,—

“Who, when she rides in coach abroad,Is always knotting threads.”

Probably it was the fashion, as Madame de Maintenon always worked during her drives with the king, which doubtless prevented her dying ofennui!

[613]I quote from theSpectator, No. 606: “Let no virgin receive her lover, except in a suit of her own embroidery.”

[614]Her style was really legitimate to the art. It was flower-painting with the needle. Miss Moritt copied both figures and landscapes, with wonderful taste and knowledge of drawing. Miss Linwood’s and Mrs. Delany’s productions are justly celebrated astours de force, but they caused the downfall of the art by leading it on the wrong track.

[615]Lord Houghton alludes to H.R.H.’s patronage of the revival of embroidery in his paraphrase of the “Story of Arachne,” p. 238,ante.

[616]“Opposed to the ‘utility stitches’ are the art needlework schools that have branched out in many directions from New York.... The impulse that led to their formation was derived from South Kensington (England), and affords a striking instance of the ramifications of an organization.”—Atlantic Monthly(“Women in Organization”), Sept., 1880.

By Ch. T. Newton.

Though the embroidered and richly decorated textile fabrics of the ancients have perished, all but a few scraps, we may form some idea of the richness and variety of Greek female attire from the evidence of the inventories of dedicated articles of dress which have been preserved for us in Greek inscriptions.

In the Acropolis at Athens have been found a number of fragments of marble on which are inscribed lists of various female garments dedicated, for the most part, in the Temple of Artemis Brauronia, in the Archonship of Lykurgos,B.C.338-35. These articles were thus carefully registered because they formed part of the treasures dedicated to the gods of the Acropolis, which it was the duty of the state to guard, and to commit to the custody of officers specially selected for that duty. One of these fragments is in the Elgin Collection at the British Museum, and has been published by Mr. Hicks in the “Collection of Ancient Greek Inscriptions in the British Museum,” Part 1, No 34; and the entire series has since been given to the world in the “Corpus Inscriptionum Atticarum” of the Academy of Berlin, ii., Part 2., Nos. 751-65.

The material of these garments seems to have been either linen or fine woollen; the colours white, purple, or some shade of red, mostly used as a border or in stripes; or a shade of green, the tint of which is described as “frog colour,” saffron, or sea-green.

The borders and patterns noted remind us of those represented on the garments of figures in vase pictures, such as the embattled border, the wave pattern, and certain patterns in rectangular compartments. A group of Dionysos pouring out a libation while a female serves him with wine, and a row of animals, are also noted among the ornaments.

The inscription, “Sacred to Artemis,” woven into the fabric of the garment, occurs twice. Gold, as an ornament fixed on the dress, is mentioned in these entries. It is noted that some of these dresses served to deck the statue of the goddess herself. Most of the garments are thechitonor tunic, flowing to the feet; thechitoniskos, a shorter and more ornamental garment worn over it; and the mantle,himation. Pieces of cloth or rags are also mentioned among the entries; these were probably the remnants of cast-off garments dedicated by their wearers. Some of the dresses are described as embroidered with the needle.

In the worship of the Artemis Brauronia, certain Athenian girls between the ages of five and ten were solemnly dedicated to the goddess every fiveyears. In publishing the inventory in the British Museum already referred to, Mr. Hicks remarks, “It may have been the custom sometimes to dedicate to the goddess the garments worn by children at their presentation, just as we know that the garments in which persons had been initiated at the Greater Eleusinia were worn by them until threadbare, and then dedicated to some god. If so, the number of children’s clothes mentioned in our inventory is easily explained. Or were these the clothes of children cut off by Artemis in infancy, such as bereaved mothers nowadays often treasure for years, having no temple wherein to dedicate them?” Mr. Hicks further remarks that it was usual for the bride before marriage to dedicate her girdle to Artemis; and at Athens the garments of women who died in childbirth were likewise in like manner so dedicated. It is probably on account of such dedications that Artemis was styled Chitonè—the goddess of thechiton.

Another list of vestments is preserved in an inscription found at Samos, and published by Carl Curtius in his “Inschriften u. Studien zur Geschichte von Samos,” pp. 17-21. The garments in this list were dedicated to the goddess Herè (Juno) in her celebrated temple at Samos. The entries relate chiefly to articles of female attire, but some few are dedicated to the god Hermes. Some of these articles were doubtless worn by the deities themselves on festive occasions, when their statues were decked out. The toilet,kosmos, of goddesses was superintended by a priestess specially chosen for that purpose. She was calledkosmeteira, or “Mistress of the Robes.”

In the Samian list of garments, those which are embroidered or ornamented with gold are specially noted. Some of the tunics are described as Lydian. Curtains or hangings are also mentioned in this list. These must have been used to ornament the interior of the temple, or to screen off the statue of the goddess on the days when she was withdrawn from the gaze of the profane. Such hangings were, probably, a main cause of the conflagrations by which Greek temples were from time to time destroyed in spite of the solidity of their walls.

In the Castle of Moritzburg, built by Augustus the Strong, Elector of Saxony and King of Poland, is a quaint apartment, on the walls of which are hung rugs of feather-work, of which the borders are adorned with set patterns of fruit and flowers, and the colouring is as soft as a Gobelins tapestry. The feathers are woven tightly into the warp, in the same manner as the tufts are set in a velvety carpet; forming a surface as delicate as silk to the touch. There are four high-backed chairs covered with the same work in smaller patterns. But what is especially remarkable is an immense canopy, like that of a state bed, with urn-shaped ornaments of stiff feathers at the corners; and a pretty bell-shaped fringe of scarlet feathers. The same ornament edged a large rug like those on the wall, thrown over what at first appeared to be a bed; but on examination it was found to be a rough wooden platform, said to be the throne of Montezuma. The story is thatAugustus the Strong went to Spain incognito at the age of eighteen, in search of adventures, and distinguished himself at a bull-fight. When the king (Charles II.) heard the name of the young hero, he gave him a hospitable reception, and afterwards sent these Mexican treasures to him as a token of friendship.

Story of Arachne, abridged by Earl Cowper from Ovid’s Metamorphoses.

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