Fig. 20.1, 2, 3, 4, 5, Bronze needles from Egyptian tombs now in British Museum.6. Cave-man’s needle from the Pinhole, Churchfield, Ereswell Crag.7. Bone needle from La Madeleine, Dordogne.
The art of embroidery consists of a design, which includes the pattern, and the handicraft or stitches—the “motive” and the “needlework.”
In painting, as in sculpture, the first idea, as well asthe last touch, must come from the same head and hand. But in needlework it is not so. The pattern is the result of tradition. It is almost always simply a variation of old forms, altered and renewed by surrounding circumstances and sudden or gradual periods of change.
However much the design may alter, rising often to the highest point of decorative art, and as often falling back to the lowest and most meaningless repetitions and imitations, thestitchesthemselves vary but little. The same are to be found in Egyptian and Greek specimens, and the classical names are those used by mediæval writers, and have come down to us, “floating like bubbles on the waves of time.”
Sir George Birdwood[317]thinks that every kind of stitch is found in traditional Indian work. I confess that I have not been able hitherto to trace any of the “mosaic” stitches to India, nor do we ever see them in Chinese or Japanese embroidery, which shows every other variety. They are, however, occasionally found in Egyptian work.
The following is a list of stitches, under the nomenclature of classical, Roman and mediæval authors:—
Here are two English lists of stitches; their quaintness must be my excuse for copying them. The first is from Taylor, the water-poet’s “Praise of the Needle” (sixteenth century):—
“Tent work, raised work, laid work, prest work,Net work, most curious pearl or rare Italian cut work,Fine fern stitch, finny stitch, new stitch, and chain stitch,Brave bred stitch, fisher stitch, Irish stitch, and queen’s stitch,The Spanish stitch, rosemary stitch, and maw 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 practice now.”
“Tent work, raised work, laid work, prest work,Net work, most curious pearl or rare Italian cut work,Fine fern stitch, finny stitch, new stitch, and chain stitch,Brave bred stitch, fisher stitch, Irish stitch, and queen’s stitch,The Spanish stitch, rosemary stitch, and maw 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 practice now.”
The second list is from Rees’ “Cyclopædia” (Stitches), 1819:—
“Spanish stitch,Tent stitch on the finger,Tent stitch in the tent or frame,Irish stitch,Fore stitch,Gold stitch,Twist stitch,Fern stitch,Broad stitch,Rosemary stitch,Chip stitch,Raised work,Geneva work,Cut work,Laid work,Back stitch,Queen’s stitch,Satin stitch,Finny stitch,Chain stitch,Fisher’s stitch,Bow stitch,Cross stitch,Needlework purl,Virgin’s device,Open cut work,Stitch work,Through stitch,Rock work,Net work, andLent work.“All which are swete manners of work wroughte by the needle with silke of all natures, purls, wyres, and weft or foreign bread (‘braid’), etc., etc.”
“Spanish stitch,Tent stitch on the finger,Tent stitch in the tent or frame,Irish stitch,Fore stitch,Gold stitch,Twist stitch,Fern stitch,Broad stitch,Rosemary stitch,Chip stitch,Raised work,Geneva work,Cut work,Laid work,Back stitch,Queen’s stitch,Satin stitch,Finny stitch,Chain stitch,Fisher’s stitch,Bow stitch,Cross stitch,Needlework purl,Virgin’s device,Open cut work,Stitch work,Through stitch,Rock work,Net work, andLent work.
“All which are swete manners of work wroughte by the needle with silke of all natures, purls, wyres, and weft or foreign bread (‘braid’), etc., etc.”
We are told that the primal man and woman sewed in Paradise.
To “sew,” in contradistinction to the word to “embroider,” is derived from the Sanskritsu,suchi, and thence imported into Latin,suo.[318]To prove how highlyesteemed needlework was among the Romans, I may mention that the equivalent of the phrase “to hit the right nail on the head” wasrem acu tangere, “to touch the question with the point of the needle.”
“Plain work” is that which is necessary. As soon as textiles are needed for covering and clothing, the means are invented for drawing the cut edges together, and for preventing the fraying where the material is lacerated by the shaping process. Hence the “seam,” the “hem,” and all the forms of stitches that bind and plait. These necessary stitches constitute plain needlework, and are closely followed by decorative stitches, which in gradation cover the space between plain needlework and embroidery.
Semper has given us his archæological theories for the origin of needlework and its stitches.
These are his arguments, if not always his words. He says: “The seam is one of the first human successful efforts to conquer difficulties.”[319]
A string, a ribbon, a band, may serve to keep together several loose things; but by means of the seam, small things actually become large ones. For example: a full-grown man can, by its help, cover himself with a garment made of the skins of many small animals. When Eve sewed fig-leaves together, she made of these small pieces a garment of patchwork.
Acting on the principle of making a virtue of necessity, accepting and adorning the severe facts of life, seamscame to be an important vehicle of ornament. The Gauls and Britons embroidered the seams of their fur garments. “We may judge of the antiquity of the seam by its universal and mythological meaning. The seam, the tie, the knot, the plait, and the mesh are the earliest symbols of fate uniting events.”[320]
We find but little mention of plain work in mediæval writings. When linen was worked for some honourable purpose, such as a gift to a friend or a royal personage, it was generally embroidered or stitched in some fancy fashion. Queen Elizabeth presented Edward VI., on his second birthday, with a smock made by herself. Fine linen was about this time constantly edged with bone laces.
Mrs. Floyer has written so well, and given us so much practical information on plain needlework, that I feel it unnecessary to enter at any length into the principles of plain sewing, as my theme is needlework as decorative art.
Mrs. Floyer has, as it were, unpicked and unravelled every stitch in plain work, till she has discovered and laid bare its intention, its construction, and effect. She, has also given us rules made clear to the dullest understanding, instructing us how to teach the young and ignorant. She shows us the quickest and most perfect way of working different materials for different purposes, and tells us how to select them. I will, therefore, refer my readers to her most useful and instructive books,[321]and pass on at once from the craft of plain needlework, to stitches as the art of embroidery.
The link between plain and decorative work deservesattention. This link is “white embroidery.” I imagine it was not a very ancient form of the art, and was practised first in mediæval days; when we begin to have constant notices of it. The first white laces appear to have followed close upon the first white embroideries.
There is a tomb of the fourteenth century in the Church of the Ara Cœli at Rome, where the effigy of a knight lies on his bed, draped with a sheet and a coverlet, both embroidered. These are evidently of linen worked in white.[322]I give a drawing of them in illustration (pl.39).
From that date we find continually mention of such work by nuns and ladies.[323]In England it was especially called “nuns’ work” (plate42). There is a great survival of this stitchery in Italy amongst the peasantry. They have always adorned their smocks and aprons, and their linen head-coverings, and the borders of sheets for great occasions, with patterns in “flat stitches,” “cut stitches,” and “drawn work.” The Greek peasants do the same. In Germany will be found much curious white embroidery, of designs which show their antiquity; and from Spain we get “Spanish work” in black, on white linen, which is nearly allied to the stitches of white work.
Pl. 39.Circular designs arranged in diagonal rows, with decorative border and fringeSee larger image
Pl. 39.
Embroidery imitated in marble on the tomb of a knight, in the Church of the Ara Cœli, Rome.
Lord Arundel of Wardour possesses a linen cover for a tabernacle (or else it is a processional cloak) which is of the purest Hispano-Moorish design, and unrivalled inbeauty. It is embroidered in Spanish stitches in white thread, on the finest linen, and is intersected with fine lace insertion (pl.40). It is said to have been found in the time of Elizabeth with some other articles in a dry well; among them a little satin shoe, of which the shape proves its date to be of the end of Henry VIII.’s reign. Russian embroidery, consisting of geometrical patterns in red, blue, and black thread, is of this class.
Pl. 40.Ornately embroidered cloak including circular and knotwork patternsSee larger image
Pl. 40.
Processional Cloak, time of Henry VIII., belonging to Lord Arundel of Wardour.
In England alone, the peasantry do no white work for home use, and we must suppose it has never been a domestic occupation. Indeed, the love of the needle is by no means an English national tendency, in the lower classes. Nothing but the plainest work is taught in our schools. Anything approaching to decorative art, with us, has been the accomplishment of educated women, and not the employment of leisure moments in the houses of the poor.
Semper, in “Der Stil,”[324]gives rules for white embroidery, and the reasons from which he deduces them are good. He says, that allowing it as a maxim that each textile has its own uses and its own beauties, we should place nothing on linen which would militate against its inherent qualities and merits; and that, as the great beauty of flax is its smoothness and purity, all projections and roughnesses should be avoided which would catch dust or throw a shadow. Carrying out this idea, it would appear that satin, and not lace stitches are therefore, the most suitable for this kind of decoration. The accepted rule for selecting the stitch for each piece of work is this: on stout grounds the thread should be round and rich, whereas delicate materials carry best the most refined and shining thread work; and in embroidering the smooth surface of linen fabrics, the flattest stitches are the most appropriate.
Gold embroideries were by the Romans attributed to the Phrygians. All gold work was vaguely supposed to be theirs, as all other embroidery was included in the craft of the Plumarii in Rome.
It has been disputed whether needlework in gold preceded the weaving of flat gold or thread into stuffs, or whether it was an after-thought, and an enrichment of such textiles. I imagine that the embroidery was the first, and that the after-thought was the art of weaving gold. Babylonian embroideries appear to be of gold wire, as we see them in the Ninevite marbles.
An instance of the way golden embroideries were displayed among the Greeks is that of the Athenian peplos, which, as I have already said (p. 32), was worked by embroideresses under the superintendence of two Arrhephoræ of noble birth. It was either scarlet or saffron colour, and blazed with golden representations of the battles of the giants, or local myths and events in the history of Athens.[325]
The art of the Phrygians, who gave their name in Rome to all golden thread-work, has come down to us through the classic “auriphrygium” and the “orphreys” of the Middle Ages. Semper thinks that the flat gold embroidery was the first invented.[326]
The Phrygians had attained to the utmost perfection in tissue ornament when the Romans conquered them, and finding their art congenial to the growing luxury of Rome, they imported and domesticated it; both the people and their work retaining their national designation. Pliny, ignorant of the claims of the Chinese, gave tothe Phrygians the credit of being the inventors of all embroidery.[327]The garments they thus decorated were called “phrygionæ,” and the work itself “opus Phrygium.” The term “auriphrygium,” at first given to work in gold only, was in time applied to all embroidery that admitted gold into its composition; and hence the English mediæval term, “orphreys.”
All the gold stitches now called “passing” came from Phrygia; Semper attributes all the “mosaic stitches” to the Phrygians, calling them “opus Phrygionium.”[328]Gold stitches are splendidly exemplified in the embroidered mantle of St. Stephen, of the ninth century. The only somewhat earlier piece of mediæval gold embroidery with which I am acquainted is the dalmatic of Charlemagne in the Vatican, richly embroidered in fine gold thread; and the mantle of the Emperor Henry II. in the Museum at Munich, worked by his Empress Kunigunda, who appears to have been somewhat parsimonious in her use of the precious material.
Almost all ecclesiastical and royal ancient embroideries were illuminated with golden grounds—golden outlines or golden flat embroideries. Later still, raised gold thread work has imitated gilt carvings or goldsmiths’ jewellery; and we feel that it was at once removed from its place as embroidery, and became an elaborate imitation of whatshould belong to another craft.[329]Such deviations from the proper office and motive of needlework are so dangerously near to bad style and bad taste, that they always and inevitably have fallen into disrepute.
This “opus pulvinarium” is not only to be found in Oriental work, but it has also survived in a very few fragments from Egypt.[330]One of these, in the British Museum, is worked on canvas, in wool and flax; another in a white shining thread, resembling asbestos, on linen or fine canvas. They are regular “canvas” or “cross” stitches, and therefore, under mediæval nomenclature, would be classed as “opus pulvinarium.” This name must include all stitches in gold, silk, and wool, whether Phrygian, Egyptian, or Babylonian in their origin, excepting the flat and lace stitches (plate41).
Pl. 41.1. Leaf patterns; 2. Knotwork patterns; 3. Floral patternsSee larger image
Pl. 41.
Mosaic Stitches.
1. Italian Pattern, sixteenth century. From Frida Lipperheide’s Musterbuch. 2. Scandinavian. Bock, i. taf. xi. 3. Egyptian. From Auberville’s “Tissus,” p. 1.
Semper’s term, “mosaic” stitches, is a good one, as it covers all that are relegated into patterns in small square spaces, counted by the threads of the textile on which they are laid.[331]He believes that the mosaic patterns andcross stitches in needlework preceded the tesselated pavements, and formed their first motive, though the stitch now refers itself back to the mosaic, at least in name.
It is remarkable that in Chaldea and Assyria there still exist some ruined walls, which are adorned with pilasters, panels, and other architectural forms, covered with some sort of encaustic, imitating textile patterns.[332]The effect is produced by means of a kind of mosaic work of small nails or wedges of baked clay, with china or glazed coloured heads. These are inlaid into the unbaked clay or earth, of which the walls are constructed, and while binding it together, give the effect of the surface being hung with a material which has a pattern worked all over in cross stitch.
The Chinese, the Chaldeans, and the Assyrians long continued to show in their buildings the tradition of this style of decoration. In Egypt there has been found some unfinished mural painting where the plaster has been previously prepared by dividing it into small rectangular spaces, apparently on the principle of the canvas ground for cross stitches.
The name “mosaic” stitch does not interfere with, or militate against the classical appellation ofopus pulvinarium, which means “shrine work” or “cushion stitches.” These appear to have been from the first considered as the best suited for adorning cushions, chairs, footstools, and the beds on which men reclined at their feasts, as they are firmly-set stitches which will stand friction.
Most of the work now done in Syria, Turkey, Greece, and the Principalities, shows different forms of the mosaic stitches; so also does the national Russian work, which is Byzantine. All these designs are conventional and mostly geometrical.
This work, in the East, is generally the same on both sides. We may infer that the spoil anticipated by Sisera’s mother, “the garments embroidered on both sides, fit for the necks of those who divide the spoil,” was of this kind.
Thus we see that the “opus pulvinarium” has a very respectable ancestry; and though it had somewhat degenerated in the early part of our century, and had languished and almost died out under the name of Berlin wool work, yet it has done good service through the days of mediæval art down to the present time, both in England and throughout Europe (pl.42); and it will probably revive and continue to be generally used.
Though the least available for historical or pictorial work, and not by any means the best for flower-pieces (as the squareness of the stitches refuses to lend itself to flowing lines or gradations of colour, unless the stitches are extremely fine, and the work, in consequence, very laborious), yet it finds its especial fitness in all geometrical designs. It is also particularly well suited to heraldic subjects.
A remarkable example of the use of cross stitches exists in the borders of the Syon cope, in which the coats-of-arms are so executed. This is of the thirteenth century; and besides these cushion stitches, it exhibits all those which are grouped in the style called opus Anglicum or Anglicanum.
Pl. 42.Wide and narrow strip design, edged with floral patternSee larger image
Pl. 42.
Italian “Nun’s Work,” from a pyx cloth, sixteenth century.
Many charming designs for this kind of stitch may be found in the old German pattern-books of the Renaissance(Spitzen Musterbücher), and also in those Venetian “Corone di Vertuose Donne” lately reprinted by the Venetian publisher Organia. These are worthy of a place in every library of art.
It would seem best to place the chain stitch named “tambour” in this class, as it naturally assimilates with the plaited and cross stitches. It is so called from the drum-shaped frame of the last century in which it was usually worked.
The “Opus Plumarium” is one of the most ancient groups, and includes all flat stitches, of which the distinguishing mark is, that theypasseach other, overlap, and blend together. “Stem,” “twist,” “Japanese stitch,” and “long and short” or “embroidery stitch,” belong to this class, to which I propose to restore its original title of plumage work.
The origin of the name is much disputed, but it is supposed to have pointed to a decoration of plumage work, and we find that feathers have been an element in artistic design from the earliest times. There were patterns in Egyptian painting which certainly had feathers for their motive (fig.21, p.208).
Semper, finding that birds’-skins were a recognized article for trade in China, 2205B.C.,[333]believes that they were used as onlaid application for architectural decoration; and this is possible, for we still obtain from thence specimens of work in different materials partly onlaid inwhole feathers, whereas sometimes the longer threads of the feathers are woven by the needle into the ground web. In Her Majesty’s collection there are some specimens from Burmah—creatures resembling sphinxes or deformed cherubim, executed in feathers, applied on silk and outlined in gold. We have likewise from Burmah, in the Indian Museum, two peacocks[334]similarly worked; the legs and beaks are solidly raised in gold thread; and the outlines also are raised in gold, giving the appearance of enamelling. Thecloisonnéeffect of brilliant colours, contrasted and enhanced by the separation of the gold outlines, can be seen to perfection in specimens of the beautiful Pekin jewellers’ work, where the feathers are inlaid in gold ornaments for the head and in the handles of fans. Nothing but gems can be more resplendent.
Three different patterns based on feathersFig. 21.Feather patterns, Egyptian.
These survivals help us to understand the casual mention we find in classical authors, of the works of the Plumarii, which appellation was given at last to all embroiderers who were not Phrygians.[335]
We have other glimpses of Oriental feather-work in different parts of India.[336]
The use of feathers is common in the islands of the Pacific. It is native to the Sandwich islanders; and M. Jules Remy describes the Hawaiian royal mantle, which was being constructed of yellow birds’ feathers through seven consecutive reigns, and was valued in Hawaii at 5,000,000 francs. A mantle of this description is the property of Lady Brassey.
In Africa, ancient Egyptian art furnishes us with traditional feather patterns and head-dresses; and Pigafetta tells us of costumes of birds’ skins, worn in the kingdom of Congo in the sixteenth century for their warmth; sea-birds’ feathers being highly esteemed.[337]
In America, where birds are most splendid, the art of the feather worker was carried to the greatest perfection. It was found there by the Spaniards, and recorded in all their writings for its beauty of design and execution, and for its great value, equal to that of gold and precious stones.
Though now looked down upon, as being a semi-barbarous style of decoration, because it exists no longer except in semi-barbarous countries, we must considerfeather work as a relic of a past higher civilization which has died out, rather than simply as the effort of the savage to deck himself in the brightest colours attainable.
Feather-work is a lost art, but the name of “opus plumarium” remains, and proves that it was still recognized as such in the days of Roman luxury. The name survived when the practice was all but forgotten in Europe,[338]and the art itself disused, probably, because the birds of our continent rarely have any lovely plumage to tempt the eye.
But the glory of feather-work was found again in Mexico and Peru, and the surrounding nations, in the sixteenth century—praised, exalted, demoralized, and crushed out by the cruelties of conquest. The Spaniards at first brought home beautiful garments and hangings, representing gods and heroes, all worked in feathers.[339]Under their rule the natives produced pictures agreeable to the taste of their masters. Pope Sixtus V. accepted a head of St. Francis, which had been executed by one of the ablest of the “amantecas” (the name for an artist in feathers). Sixtus was struck with surprise and admiration at the beauty and artistic cleverness of the work, and, until he had touched and examined it closely, would not believe that plumage was the only material used.
There are beautiful hangings and bed furniture at Moritzburg, near Dresden, said to have belonged to Montezuma. They were given to Augustus the Strong, King of Poland, by a king of Spain.
In the seventeenth century, and later, feather work was still an art in Mexico, the convents continuing to preserve its traditions. Bustamente says that this industry was still in operation in the beginning of ourcentury. The Mexican Museum preserves specimens of the last three hundred years, from the time of the conquest of Mexico.
There is in the Cluny Museum, in Paris, a beautiful triptych, evidently of the sixteenth century. It is worked in feathers, with delicate outlines in fine gold thread. Nothing can exceed the tenderness and harmony of the colouring in shades of blue, and warm and cool brown tints. This is probably a survival of that lost art of Mexico which was carried on in their convents, and may have been a copy of a treasured relic of European art.
Among the few noteworthy specimens that have survived, is the mitre of St. Carlo Borromeo at Milan, described by M. F. Denis as being both artistic and beautiful. He tells us in his Appendix that even now, a tissue of feathers is woven in France, as soft and flexible as a silk damask; and rivalling the Mexican scarlet feather fabric, which the Spaniards admired so greatly. He also speaks of the inlaid feather work, invented by M. Le Normant of Rouen, in the last century, and afterwards continued in Paris by his English pupil, Mr. Levet, who sold two of his works to the then Duke of Leeds, in 1735. The first is a vase of flowers, the second a peacock, designed by M. Oudry (peintre du Roi). Both of these, framed as screens, are now at Hornby Castle.
Unfortunately feathers are, by their nature, most attractive to that greatest destroyer, next to Attila—the moth. Ghirlandajo called mosaic in marble and glass, “painting for eternity;” we may call feather work, “painting for a day.”
From the essays of M. Ferdinand Denis,[340]much may be learned of thearte plumariaof the Mexicans and their neighbours of Brazil, Guatemala, Peru, and Yucatan,and the land of the Zapotecas, &c., where it was also cultivated. He says that their civilization is so mysterious that we have as yet no means of judging whence came their art.
Fergusson suggests the similarity between Central Asian and Central American art, both in architectural forms and plastic and sculptured remains. He thinks that its tradition was transmitted from Asia to America in the third and fourth centuries of our era. If so, it was an unlucky moment for the recipients, as the art of Asia, as well as that of Europe, was then at its lowest and most debased phase; perhaps, however, the more fit for the fertilization of that of a perfectly barbarous people. There is something fascinating in the suggestions on this subject in Mr. Donelly’s “Atlantis;” but when conjecture is only founded on tradition, and without proof, we must not take it into serious consideration.
Having proved the universal use of feathers, it is not difficult to appreciate the causes which suggested everywhere the transfer of this decorative art to another craft, employing less perishable materials. Embroidery probably followed it closely and absorbed it throughout Asia and in Egypt; and the survivals now are only an accidental specimen, a tradition, and a name.[341]
The name “Plumarii,” for the embroideries, is thus fully accounted for, and we need seek no further elucidation.It was commonly used in classical Roman times. “Opus plumarium” seems to have become the legitimate term for all needlework. The Plumarii were the embroiderers, whether their work was in wool, or thread, or in silk (at a later period),[342]with or without admixture of gold or silver (as the Argentarii were the jewellers).
The article on the word “plumarius” in Hoffman’s Lexicon,[343]after describing two kinds of Plumarii, Phrygians and Babylonians, proceeds to say, “These latter, who wove garments and hangings of various colours, were called ‘Plumarii;’ but though this name was at first confined to craftsmen who wove patterns in the shape of feathers, in course of time the name was extended to those artists who, with the needle or by painting, embellished robes.”[344]
The “opus plumarium” included, as I before said, all flat stitches; and I repeat that “feather application” was certainly its first motive; and next came the stitches that conveyed the same desired effect, though a new material was employed, fitted for the needle, which, having served its apprenticeship in “plain work,” now came to the front as a decorative agent.
Painting with the needle began with an attempt to model with it; the lay of stitches being so arranged as togive the whole effect of light and shadow, so as to delineate the forms without changing the shades of the material used. I give on the opposite page some Japanese birds, which will explain what I mean. The stitches are so intelligently placed as absolutely to give the forms of the birds imitated. They represent plumage, and a more artistic representation cannot be imagined. (Pl.43.)
The same stitch which we find prevailing in China and Japan as plumage work, is employed in embroidering flowers. Here satin, stem, and plumage stitches are blended together, and excellent decorative effects are produced; but the texture of flowers is not to be imitated, as is that of the plumage of birds. “Satin” stitch is a more restricted form of plumage stitch; and “stem” is another variety of these flat stitches, very useful in its place. I therefore have assigned the name of “plumage stitch” to that hitherto called “embroidery” or “long and short” stitches; and I give the term “plumage work” to include all the “flat” stitches.
Practically, it is allowed that these flat stitches, especially the plumage stitch, give most scope for freedom in needlework, as they are laid on at once, and according to the inspiration of the worker, and may cover the outline and efface it. The stitches are not counted, and have more of the nature of touch than any others, as their length, thickness, and closeness may be varied at will. The artist’s design thus admits of interpretation according to the taste and feeling of the needlewoman.
Pl. 43.Two hexagonal pieces, each with a crane with its wings spreadSee larger image
Pl. 43.
Japanese Opus Plumarium.
This is “Patchwork,” or “Appliqué” (“inlaid” and“onlaid”). Vasari calls it “Di commesso,” and says that Botticelli invented it for the use of Church banners, as being much more effective than any other style of work, or even than painting, as the outlines remained firm (non si stinguano), and were not affected by the weather (as in painted cloths) and were visible on both sides of the banner. Botticelli drew with his own hand the baldachino of Or San Michele, and the embroideries on a frieze carried in procession by the monks of Santa Maria Novella; he died 1515. Perhaps he may have revived the art of application in his own day.
There are, however, much earlier examples of patchwork, of which the first and most remarkable is the Egyptian funeral tent of Queen Isi-em-Kheb, mother-in-law of Shishak, who besieged and took Jerusalem three or four years after the death of Solomon,B.C.980. It may be described as a mosaic, or patchwork of prodigious size, made of thousands of pieces of gazelles’ skins, dyed, and neatly sewn together with threads of colour to match, resembling the stitching of a glove, the outer edges bound with a cord of twisted pink leather, sewn on with stout pink thread (pl.44). The colours are described as being wonderfully preserved, when it is remembered that they are nearly as old as the Trojan War; though perhaps their preservation is less surprising than that the flowers wreathed about several royal mummies of the same period should have shown their colours and forms when the cases were first opened, so as to be recognized as blue larkspur, yellow mimosa, and a red Abyssinian flower, massed closely together on the foundation of a strong leaf cut in zigzags. Among the flowers lay a dead wasp, whose worthless little form and identity were as perfectly preserved as those of the mighty monarch on whose bosom it had completed its short existence. The tent itself consists of a centre or flat top, divided down themiddle, and covered over one half with pink and yellow rosettes on a blue ground; on the other half are six large vultures, each surrounded with a hieroglyphic text which is really an epitaph. The side flaps are adorned first with some narrow bands of colour; then with a fringe pattern; then with a row of broad panels, red, green, and yellow, with a device or picture and inscription in the two other colours; on this border there are kneeling gazelles, each with a pink Abyssinian lotus blossom hanging to its collar. The rest of the side flaps and the whole of the front and back flaps are composed of large squares, alternately pink and green. This, for its antiquity, its style, its stitchery, materials, and colours, is a most interesting work of early art, and an example of the perfection to which it had attained. It is remarkable how much variety of effect has been produced with only four colours, by the artistic manner of placing and contrasting them. To our more advanced taste, however, the whole effect of the contrasting colours is inharmonious and gaudy, though certainly striking and typical.[345]
Another piece of Egyptian application, from the Museum at Turin, is a pretty leaf pattern cut out in red stuff, laid on a white ground, and worked down with a darker outline of the same colour.[346]
A simple leaf pattern
Fig. 22.Piece of appliqué in red stuff and red outlines from Egypt.
Pl. 44.Differently decorated joined panels, designs including flowers and winged scarabsSee larger image
Pl. 44.
Funeral Tent of Isi-em-Kheb. From Villiers Stuart’s “Funeral Tent of an Egyptian Queen.”
We have an instance of ancient “application” of about600 years later, Greek in its beauty of design and execution. Alas! we can only ascertain, from tattered fragments taken out of a tomb in the Crimea, that it was parsemé with figures on horseback or in chariots. The border is very beautiful. Compare the fragments of which we have obtained a copy with the mantle of Demeter, from a Greek vase, and you will perceive how the styles correspond (Pl.16, Fig.23). The ground material is of the finest woven wool, of a deep violet or purple colour, enriched with application of another fine woollen fabric of a most brilliant green, worked down, outlined and embroidered in white, black, and gold-coloured wool, apparently in stem stitches.[347]The accompanying illustration gives the effect and general design of the outer border only, in which the applied leaf is worked down in red, gold, and white.
It is much to be regretted that the centre of the mantle is so tattered and discoloured that it is impossible to do more than ascertain that the design that is embroidered on it consists of figures on horseback or in chariots, in spirited attitudes. The second and broader border is to be found (pl.17).
A curving leaf design
Fig. 23.Narrow border of a Greek mantle.
“Opus consutum” cannot in any sense perhaps be the name of a stitch or stitches. But it applies to a peculiarstyle of embroidery employing certain stitches. It is the term given to all work cut out of plain or embroidered materials, and applied by “working down” to another material as grounding. It includes all raised and stuffed application in silk, woollen, and metal thread work. It has been given to all work in which the scissors are active agents, whether in cutting out the outlines or in incising the pattern, as in much of the linen and muslin embroideries of our day, now called “Madeira work,” of which a great deal was made in the first part of the century by English ladies who designed and collected patterns from each other, and gave the produce of their industry as gifts to their friends for collars, cuffs, and trimmings.[348]
“Cut work” is named by Chaucer, and is constantly to be found in inventories from his time to the beginning of the last century. At Coire, in the Grisons, is a very beautiful chasuble, of which the orphrey is of the school of the elder Holbein or Lucas Cranach, applied and raised so as to form a high relief. The figures are covered with satin and embroidered. The chasuble itself is of fine Saracenic silk, woven with golden inscriptions in broad stripes. The colours are brown, crimson, and gold.