PART THE SECOND.Tapestry.

Piecesof Tapestry Hanging, figured with poetic pastoral scenes. Flemish, perhaps wrought at Audenaerde, in the first half of the 16th century. 29 feet 4 inches by 11 feet.

Soon after the early part of the 16th century, there sprang up throughout Europe a liking for pastoral literature as seen in Virgil’s eclogues: poets sung their dreams of the bliss to be found in rustic life, in which sports and pastimes, amid well-dressed revelry and music, with nought of toil or drudgery belonging to it, formed the yearly round; and in summer tide, nobles and their ladies loved to rove the woods and fields, and play at gentle shepherdism. How such frolics were carried out we learn from the tapestry before us, which, in many of its features, is near akin to those low reliefs of the same subject that adorn the walls in the court-yard of the curious and elaborately ornamented Hotel de Bourgtheroud, at Rouen.At the left-hand side, lying on a flowery bank, is a gentleman shepherd, whose broad-toed shoes and thick cloth leggings, fastened round the knees and about the ancles, are rather conspicuous. On the brim of his large round white hat is a sort of square ticket, coloured. From his waist hangs a white satchel, bearing outside various appliances,such as countrymen want. Over him stands, with a tall spud in her hands, a youthful lady dressed in a scarlet robe, and wearing her satchel by her side, a thin gauze cap, not a hat, is on her head, and with her hand upraised she seems to be giving emphasis to what she says to her friend upon the ground.In the middle of this piece is a group, consisting of four characters, all of whom are playing at some game of forfeits. A young lady clad in blue satin, with the usual rustic pouch slung at her side, is sitting on the flowery grass, with her hands on the shoulders of a youth at her feet, and hiding his face in her lap. Standing over him and about to strike his open palm is another youth in a blue tunic turned up with red, and holding a spud. Behind the blindfolded youth stands a young lady, whose flaxen locks fall from under a broad-brimmed crimson hat, upon her shoulders over her splendid robe, the crimson ground of which is nearly hidden by the broad diapering of gold most admirably shown upon it.In the other corner, to the right, is a lady, kerchiefed and girded with her rustic wallet, with both hands grasping a man, who seems as if he asked forgiveness. Overhead is a swineherd leading a pig, and going towards a farm-labourer who is making faggots; further on is another clown, hard at work, with his coat thrown down by him on the ground, lopping trees; and last of all, a gentleman and lady, both clad in the costume of the first half of the sixteenth century. These groups on the high part of the canvas are evidently outside the subject of the games below, and are merely passers by. All about the field are seen grazing sheep; and to the right, a golden pheasant on the foreground is so conspicuous as to lead to the thought that it was placed there to tell, either the name of the noble house for which this beautifully-wrought and nicely-designed tapestry was made, or of the artist who worked it.In a second, but much smaller pane of tapestry, the same subject is continued. Upon the flowery banks of a narrow streamlet sit a lady and a little boy, bathing their feet in its waters. A gentleman—a swain for the nonce—on his bended knee, holds up triumphantly one of the lady’s stockings over the boy’s head. Just above and striding towards her comes another gentleman-shepherd, with both his hands outstretched as if in wonderment, over whom we find a real churl in the person of a shepherd playing a set of double pipes—the old French “flahuter à deux dois”—to the no small delight of a little dog by his side. Serving as a background to this group, we have a comfortable homestead amid trees. Somewhat to the right and lowerdown, over a brick arch leans a lady, to whom a gaily-dressed man is offering money or a trinket, which he has just drawn forth from his opengipcièrehanging at his girdle. Below sits a lady arrayed in a white robe, the skirts of which she has drawn and folded back upon her lap to show her scarlet petticoat. She is listening to a huntsman pranked out with a belt strung with little bells; falling from his girdle hangs in front a buglehorn, and his left hand holds the leash of his dog with a fine collar on. Over this spruce youth is an unmistakable real field labourer with a Flemishhotte?, or wooden cradle, filled with chumps and sticks, upon his back; and before him walk two dogs, one of which carries a pack or cloth over his shoulders. Still higher up is a wind-mill, toward which a man bearing a sack is walking.In both these pieces, which are fellows, and wrought for the hangings of the same chamber, the drawing of the figures, with the accessories of dress, silks, and even field-flowers, is admirable, and the grouping well managed: altogether, they are valuable links in the chain for the study and illustration of the ancient art of tapestry.

At the left-hand side, lying on a flowery bank, is a gentleman shepherd, whose broad-toed shoes and thick cloth leggings, fastened round the knees and about the ancles, are rather conspicuous. On the brim of his large round white hat is a sort of square ticket, coloured. From his waist hangs a white satchel, bearing outside various appliances,such as countrymen want. Over him stands, with a tall spud in her hands, a youthful lady dressed in a scarlet robe, and wearing her satchel by her side, a thin gauze cap, not a hat, is on her head, and with her hand upraised she seems to be giving emphasis to what she says to her friend upon the ground.

In the middle of this piece is a group, consisting of four characters, all of whom are playing at some game of forfeits. A young lady clad in blue satin, with the usual rustic pouch slung at her side, is sitting on the flowery grass, with her hands on the shoulders of a youth at her feet, and hiding his face in her lap. Standing over him and about to strike his open palm is another youth in a blue tunic turned up with red, and holding a spud. Behind the blindfolded youth stands a young lady, whose flaxen locks fall from under a broad-brimmed crimson hat, upon her shoulders over her splendid robe, the crimson ground of which is nearly hidden by the broad diapering of gold most admirably shown upon it.

In the other corner, to the right, is a lady, kerchiefed and girded with her rustic wallet, with both hands grasping a man, who seems as if he asked forgiveness. Overhead is a swineherd leading a pig, and going towards a farm-labourer who is making faggots; further on is another clown, hard at work, with his coat thrown down by him on the ground, lopping trees; and last of all, a gentleman and lady, both clad in the costume of the first half of the sixteenth century. These groups on the high part of the canvas are evidently outside the subject of the games below, and are merely passers by. All about the field are seen grazing sheep; and to the right, a golden pheasant on the foreground is so conspicuous as to lead to the thought that it was placed there to tell, either the name of the noble house for which this beautifully-wrought and nicely-designed tapestry was made, or of the artist who worked it.

In a second, but much smaller pane of tapestry, the same subject is continued. Upon the flowery banks of a narrow streamlet sit a lady and a little boy, bathing their feet in its waters. A gentleman—a swain for the nonce—on his bended knee, holds up triumphantly one of the lady’s stockings over the boy’s head. Just above and striding towards her comes another gentleman-shepherd, with both his hands outstretched as if in wonderment, over whom we find a real churl in the person of a shepherd playing a set of double pipes—the old French “flahuter à deux dois”—to the no small delight of a little dog by his side. Serving as a background to this group, we have a comfortable homestead amid trees. Somewhat to the right and lowerdown, over a brick arch leans a lady, to whom a gaily-dressed man is offering money or a trinket, which he has just drawn forth from his opengipcièrehanging at his girdle. Below sits a lady arrayed in a white robe, the skirts of which she has drawn and folded back upon her lap to show her scarlet petticoat. She is listening to a huntsman pranked out with a belt strung with little bells; falling from his girdle hangs in front a buglehorn, and his left hand holds the leash of his dog with a fine collar on. Over this spruce youth is an unmistakable real field labourer with a Flemishhotte?, or wooden cradle, filled with chumps and sticks, upon his back; and before him walk two dogs, one of which carries a pack or cloth over his shoulders. Still higher up is a wind-mill, toward which a man bearing a sack is walking.

In both these pieces, which are fellows, and wrought for the hangings of the same chamber, the drawing of the figures, with the accessories of dress, silks, and even field-flowers, is admirable, and the grouping well managed: altogether, they are valuable links in the chain for the study and illustration of the ancient art of tapestry.

Pieceof Tapestry Hanging; ground, green sprinkled with flowers, and sentence-bearing scrolls; design, steps in a religious life, figured in five compartments. West German, late 15th century. 12 feet by 2 feet 10 inches.

1. A young well-born maiden, with a narrow wreath about her unveiled head, and dressed in pink, is saying her prayers kneeling on the flowery green ground, with these words traced on the scrolls twined gracefully above her,—“Das wir Maria kindt in trew mage werden so ... t ich myn gnade ... n af erden;” “Let us become like to Mary’s child, (so) we shall deserve mercy on earth.”2. Seated on a chair, with a book upon his lap, is an ecclesiastic, in a white habit and black scapular. To this priest the same young lady is making confession of her sins; and the scrolls about this group say,—“Vicht di sunde mit ernst sonder spot so findestic Godez trew gnadt;” “Fight against sin with earnestness and without feigning; you will find the true mercy of God.”—“Her myn sunde vil ich ach dagen uff das mir Gots trew moge behagen;” “Lord, I will mourn over my sin, in order that the truth of God may comfort me.”

2. Seated on a chair, with a book upon his lap, is an ecclesiastic, in a white habit and black scapular. To this priest the same young lady is making confession of her sins; and the scrolls about this group say,—“Vicht di sunde mit ernst sonder spot so findestic Godez trew gnadt;” “Fight against sin with earnestness and without feigning; you will find the true mercy of God.”—“Her myn sunde vil ich ach dagen uff das mir Gots trew moge behagen;” “Lord, I will mourn over my sin, in order that the truth of God may comfort me.”

3. The same youthful maiden is bending over a wooden table, upon which lies a human heart that she is handling; and the inscriptions about her tell us the meaning of this action of hers, thus,—“Sol ich myn sund hi leschen so musz ich ich mȳ hertz im blude wesche;” “To cleanse away my sin here, I must wash my heart in the blood.”4. We here see an altar; upon its table are a small rood or crucifix with S. Mary and S. John, two candlesticks, having prickets for the wax-lights, the outspread corporal cloth, upon which stands the chalice, and under which, in front and not at the right side, lies the paten somewhat hidden. At the foot of this altar kneels the maiden, clad in blue, and wearing on her head a plain, closely-fitting linen cap, like that yet occasionally worn at church in Belgium, by females of the middle classes,—and the priest who is saying mass there is giving her Communion. The priest’s alb is ornamented with crimson apparels on its cuffs and lower front hem, inscribed with the word “haus,” house, is well rendered. The inscriptions above are, as elsewhere, mutilated, so that much of their meaning is lost; but they run thus,—“Wer he ... versorget mich mit Gottes trew das bitten ich;” “If ... not procure me the love of God that I pray for.”—“Emphang in trewen den waren Crist dmit dyn;” “Receive with fidelity the very Christ in order....”5. A nunnery, just outside of which stands its lady-abbess, clothed in a white habit, black hood, and white linen wimple about her throat. In her right hand she bears a gold crozier, from which hangs that peculiar napkin, two of which are in this collection, Nos.8279A, and8662. Behind stands an aged nun, and, as if in the passage and seen through the cloister windows, are two lay sisters, known as such by the black scapular. In front of the abbess stands the young maiden dressed in pink, with her waiting woman all in white, in attendance on her. Upon the scrolls are these sentences,—“Dez hymels ey port Godez vor (m)eyn husz disz ist;” “A gate of heaven—God’s and mine house this is.”—“Kom trew Christ wol. p.. eidt nym dy Kron dy dir Got hat bereit.”—“Come, true Christian well ... take the crown which God has prepared for thee.”Though but a poor specimen of the loom, this piece gives us scraps of an obsolete dialect of the mediæval German, not Flemish, language.

4. We here see an altar; upon its table are a small rood or crucifix with S. Mary and S. John, two candlesticks, having prickets for the wax-lights, the outspread corporal cloth, upon which stands the chalice, and under which, in front and not at the right side, lies the paten somewhat hidden. At the foot of this altar kneels the maiden, clad in blue, and wearing on her head a plain, closely-fitting linen cap, like that yet occasionally worn at church in Belgium, by females of the middle classes,—and the priest who is saying mass there is giving her Communion. The priest’s alb is ornamented with crimson apparels on its cuffs and lower front hem, inscribed with the word “haus,” house, is well rendered. The inscriptions above are, as elsewhere, mutilated, so that much of their meaning is lost; but they run thus,—“Wer he ... versorget mich mit Gottes trew das bitten ich;” “If ... not procure me the love of God that I pray for.”—“Emphang in trewen den waren Crist dmit dyn;” “Receive with fidelity the very Christ in order....”

5. A nunnery, just outside of which stands its lady-abbess, clothed in a white habit, black hood, and white linen wimple about her throat. In her right hand she bears a gold crozier, from which hangs that peculiar napkin, two of which are in this collection, Nos.8279A, and8662. Behind stands an aged nun, and, as if in the passage and seen through the cloister windows, are two lay sisters, known as such by the black scapular. In front of the abbess stands the young maiden dressed in pink, with her waiting woman all in white, in attendance on her. Upon the scrolls are these sentences,—“Dez hymels ey port Godez vor (m)eyn husz disz ist;” “A gate of heaven—God’s and mine house this is.”—“Kom trew Christ wol. p.. eidt nym dy Kron dy dir Got hat bereit.”—“Come, true Christian well ... take the crown which God has prepared for thee.”

Though but a poor specimen of the loom, this piece gives us scraps of an obsolete dialect of the mediæval German, not Flemish, language.

Pieceof Tapestry Hanging; ground, grass and flowers; design, a German romance, divided into six compartments, each having its own inscribed scrolls, meant to describe the subject. South German, middle of the 15th century. 12 feet by 2 feet 6 inches.

In the first compartment we see a group of horsemen, of whom the first is a royal youth wearing a richly-jewelled crown and arrayed in all the fashion of those days. Following him are two grooms, over one of whose heads, but high up in the heavens, flies an eagle; and perhaps the bird may be there to indicate the name of the large walled city close by. Pacing on the flowery turf, the cavalcade is nearing a castle, at the threshold of which stand an aged king and his youthful daughter. On a scroll are the words,—“Bisg god wilkum dusig stunt(?) grosser frayd wart uns nie kunt;” “Be right welcome for a thousand hours; a greater joy we never knew.” Of course the coming guest utters his acknowledgments; but the words on the scroll cannot be made out with the exception of this broken sentence,—“Heute ich unt ...;” “To day I and ...”In the second compartment, in a room of the castle we behold the same royal youth, wearing, as before, his crown upon his long yellow locks, along with his three varlets. On a scroll are the words,—“Fromer dieur bestelle mir die ros ein wagge ist nun lieber;” “Pious servant, order me the horses, a carriage is preferred.”In the third compartment is shown, and very likely in his own home, the same young wooer talking, as it would seem by the scrolls, to his three waiting-men; and after one of them had said,—“Wage u[=n] rosz sint bereit als ...;” “Carriage and horses are ready as....” he says,—“Wo schien gluck zu diser vart nie kein reise;” “If luck has shone on this journey, I never liked travelling better.” Of the three servants, one holds three horses, while the upper groom is presenting, with both hands, to his royal young master a large something, apparently ornamented with flowers; the churl wears, hanging down from his girdle in front, an anelace or dagger, the gentleman a gaygipcière, but the shoes of both are very long and pointed.In the fourth compartment the same crowned youth again is seen riding towards the castle-gate, though this time no lady fair stands at itsthreshold for the greeting; but instead, there stands with the old king a noble youth who, to all appearances, seems to have been beforehand, in the business of wooing and winning the young princess’s heart, with the last comer. There are these words upon the scroll,—“Ich hab vor einem ... gericht einer tuben und mich yr verpflicht;” “I have before a ... tribunal of a dove, and have myself engaged to her;” meaning that already had he himself betrothed the king’s daughter, by swearing to her his love and truth before a dove—a thing quite mediæval, like the vows of the swan, the peacock, and the pheasant, as we have noticed in the Introduction, and again while treating of the Syon Cope, at p. 28. On his side, the old king thus addresses him,—“Mich dunckt du komst uber land ... zu der hochzeit;” “Methinks thou comest over-land ... to see the wedding.” In this, as in other inscriptions, the whole of the words cannot be made out.The fifth compartment shows us the second and successful wooer, dressed out in the same attire as before, but now riding a well-appointed steed, and booted in the manner of those times. He is waited on by a mounted page. On a scroll are the words,—“Umb sehnlichst ich nun köme ... ist die ewige ...;” “That I most passionately now can ... is the eternal,” &c.In the last compartment the rejected wooer is seen riding away as he came—without a bride—followed by two grooms.Though rough in its execution, this piece of tapestry is valuable not only for its specimens of costume, like our own at the period, but especially for its inscriptions, which betray the provincialisms belonging to the south of Germany; and some of their expressions are said to be even yet in daily use about the neighbourhood of Nuremberg, to which locality we are warranted, for several reasons, in ascribing the production of this early example of the German loom.

In the second compartment, in a room of the castle we behold the same royal youth, wearing, as before, his crown upon his long yellow locks, along with his three varlets. On a scroll are the words,—“Fromer dieur bestelle mir die ros ein wagge ist nun lieber;” “Pious servant, order me the horses, a carriage is preferred.”

In the third compartment is shown, and very likely in his own home, the same young wooer talking, as it would seem by the scrolls, to his three waiting-men; and after one of them had said,—“Wage u[=n] rosz sint bereit als ...;” “Carriage and horses are ready as....” he says,—“Wo schien gluck zu diser vart nie kein reise;” “If luck has shone on this journey, I never liked travelling better.” Of the three servants, one holds three horses, while the upper groom is presenting, with both hands, to his royal young master a large something, apparently ornamented with flowers; the churl wears, hanging down from his girdle in front, an anelace or dagger, the gentleman a gaygipcière, but the shoes of both are very long and pointed.

In the fourth compartment the same crowned youth again is seen riding towards the castle-gate, though this time no lady fair stands at itsthreshold for the greeting; but instead, there stands with the old king a noble youth who, to all appearances, seems to have been beforehand, in the business of wooing and winning the young princess’s heart, with the last comer. There are these words upon the scroll,—“Ich hab vor einem ... gericht einer tuben und mich yr verpflicht;” “I have before a ... tribunal of a dove, and have myself engaged to her;” meaning that already had he himself betrothed the king’s daughter, by swearing to her his love and truth before a dove—a thing quite mediæval, like the vows of the swan, the peacock, and the pheasant, as we have noticed in the Introduction, and again while treating of the Syon Cope, at p. 28. On his side, the old king thus addresses him,—“Mich dunckt du komst uber land ... zu der hochzeit;” “Methinks thou comest over-land ... to see the wedding.” In this, as in other inscriptions, the whole of the words cannot be made out.

The fifth compartment shows us the second and successful wooer, dressed out in the same attire as before, but now riding a well-appointed steed, and booted in the manner of those times. He is waited on by a mounted page. On a scroll are the words,—“Umb sehnlichst ich nun köme ... ist die ewige ...;” “That I most passionately now can ... is the eternal,” &c.

In the last compartment the rejected wooer is seen riding away as he came—without a bride—followed by two grooms.

Though rough in its execution, this piece of tapestry is valuable not only for its specimens of costume, like our own at the period, but especially for its inscriptions, which betray the provincialisms belonging to the south of Germany; and some of their expressions are said to be even yet in daily use about the neighbourhood of Nuremberg, to which locality we are warranted, for several reasons, in ascribing the production of this early example of the German loom.

TapestryHanging; within a narrow border of a dark green ground, ornamented with flowers mostly pink, and fruit-bearing branches of the vine, is figured a subject just outside the gates of a large walled city, and upon the flowery turf. Flemish, beginning of the 16th century, 13 feet by 11 feet 6 inches.

To all appearance the subject is taken from the Gospel of St. John, chap. 9, where the miracle is related of our Lord giving sight to theman born blind, who has just come back from washing in the pool of Siloam, and is answering his neighbours who had hitherto known him as the blind beggar. In front stands an important personage in a tunic of cloth of gold shot light blue, over which he wears a shorter one of fine crimson diapered in gold, having a broad jewelled hem; of a rich gold stuff is his lofty turban. In his left hand he holds a long wand, ending in an arrow-shaped head. At the feet of this high functionary kneels the poor man blessed with sight, while he is taking from him a something like a square glass bottle, and holds his coarse hat in his hand. Near but above him stands a lady wearing a most curious head-dress, which is blue, with two red wings bristling at its sides. The rest of her array is exactly like, in shape and stuffs, to the magnificent apparel of the first portly male figure, so as to lead us to believe that she must be his wife, himself being one of the Jewish chief priests. Talking with her is another Jew splendidly dressed, and bearing a wand in one hand; and behind her we see a man wearing earrings, and a woman belonging to the lower class—probably the cured man’s father and mother. Not far away from the priest, and at his back, are soldiers with lances, and one with a halbert, before whom stands a well-dressed, mantled and hooded Pharisee, with a rolled-up volume in his hand, and looking with a somewhat haughty scowl upon the man kneeling on the ground. Above the walls are seen the domes of several large buildings, of which one looks as if it were the temple of Jerusalem; and all about the battlements are people gazing down upon the scene beneath them.So Flemish is the Gothic style of architecture on the gates, around which are mock inscriptions, and on the walls of the city, that we find at once that the tapestry must have been designed and wrought in Flanders. Though the shapes of the dresses be for the most part quite imaginary, still the diapering on the gorgeous cloths of gold is after the style then in vogue and well rendered.

So Flemish is the Gothic style of architecture on the gates, around which are mock inscriptions, and on the walls of the city, that we find at once that the tapestry must have been designed and wrought in Flanders. Though the shapes of the dresses be for the most part quite imaginary, still the diapering on the gorgeous cloths of gold is after the style then in vogue and well rendered.

TapestryWall-hanging; subject, Neptune stilling the wind-storm raised at Juno’s request by Æolus against the Trojan fleet on the Sicilian coast. Flemish, 17th century.

Evidently the designer of this tapestry meant to illustrate Virgil at the beginning of his first book of the Æneid. To the left hand is seenBoreas with a lance, which he is aiming against Neptune, in one hand, while in the other he holds by a cord a rough wooden yoke, to which are tied two boys floating in the water, and each with a pair of bellows, which he is blowing. Drawn by two steeds comes Neptune with uplifted trident, to still the winds raised by the two boys; and over his head are Eurus and the western wind in the shape of females flying in the air, one snapping the tall mast of one of Æneas’s ships, and the other pouring out broad streams of water from four vases, one in each hand. The bellows are very like those elaborately-carved ones in the Museum, out of Soulages collection.

TapestryWall-hanging; subject, Æneas and Achates before Dido, at Carthage. Flemish, 17th century.

The passage, in Virgil’s first book of the Æneid, descriptive of Æneas, with the faithful Achates at his side, relating his adventures to Dido, the Carthaginian queen, is here illustrated. The youthful princess, enthroned beneath a cloth of estate, is listening to the Trojan prince before her, and around are her ladies in gay costume, her own being of light blue silk damasked with a large golden flower. As a background we see the port filled with Æneas’s ships, to which countrymen are driving sheep and oxen for their crews. The women are quite of the Flemish type of fat beauty, and the odd head-dress for a man on Achates is remarkable.

TapestryHanging; subject, the departure of Æneas from Carthage. Flemish, 17th century.

In the foreground is Æneas taking leave of Dido, who is fainting into the arms of her waiting ladies. Behind, is a youth working as a mason and building a wall: further back, are seen horses richly caparisoned, upon one of which rides Dido, while Mercury comes flying down bidding Æneas to haste him away.

TapestryWall-hanging; subject, Venus appearing to Æneas in a wood.

The second book of the Æneid has furnished the designer with the materials for this piece. Just as Æneas had uplifted his hand to slay Helen, Venus appears, stays his arms, and reasons with him. So says Virgil; but here we merely see Mercury coming down from the clouds, and Venus revealing herself to her son. The admirers of the beautiful in form and face will not find much to please them in the lady’s person. This piece closes the history of Æneas as given in these tapestries, which came from the palace, or, as it used to be called, the King’s House at Newmarket. All through, Dido is made to appear in the same kind of costume; but the dresses in general are purely imagined by the artist, without the slightest authority from the monuments of either Greek or Roman antiquity: and the architectural parts are quite in the debased classic style of the 17th century, as followed in Flanders. All these tapestries are framed in a red border, wrought at the sides with scrolls and shields, and below, with winged boys holding labels once showing inscriptions (now faded) all shot with gold, but tarnished black. Many of the female figures are slip-shod, like St. Mary Magdalen in Rubens’s “Taking down from the Cross,” at Antwerp.

TapestryHanging; subject, the story of Arria and Paetus, copied from a painting by Francois André Vincent, and dated 1785. The border was added afterwards. French, done at the Gobelins. 12 feet by 10 feet 6 inches. Presented by His Imperial Highness Prince Napoleon.

The subject is a startling one; being condemned to die, by the Emperor Claudius, and put an end to his life with his own hand, Paetus hesitated. Seeing this, his wife Arria snatched up the weapon and plunged it to the hilt in her own bosom, and then handing the dagger to her husband, said, “It does not pain me, Paetus.”

At top, on a blue ground, is a large N in yellow, indicative of the first Napoleon, who, in the year 1807 presented this fine specimen of the far-famed Gobelin tapestry to his brother Jerome, at the time King of Westphalia, as a marriage gift. By the late Prince Jerome it was sent, through his son, the present Prince Napoleon, for presentation to this Museum.

TapestryWall-hanging; design, groups of richly-dressed ladies and gentlemen around a queen. Flemish, early 16th century.

Apparently the crowded scene before us is meant to illustrate some symbolic subject. In the midst of them all stands a queen, whose hands are clasped. Before her kneels a man who respectfully bares his head the while he outstretches to the princess a written paper. Behind stands a magnificent chair. Further back is a nicely-shown interior of a room having its cupboard loaded with vases standing on the shelves; there sit three ladies in earnest talk. All about are groups of richly-clothed men and women, each of whose dresses is worthy of notice.

Tapestry;subject, a landscape, the foreground strewed with human and animals’ bones, and a living figure sitting among rocks. French, early 17th century.

This is one of a short series of tapestries setting forth, but sometimes laughing at, the ideas of the ancient cynics. Before us here we have a wild dell clothed in trees on one side, on the other piled with rocks capped, in some places, by ruins. Seated on a stone, with a book held in his hand, is Diogenes in meditation, with human bones, animal skulls, and monster things about him. The work is well done, and shows how perfect was the loom that wrought it. On a blue tablet at top runs this inscription,—“Diogenes derisor omnium in fine defigitur.”

Tapestry;subject, the visit of Alexander the Great to Diogenes in his tub. French, early 17th century.

The scene is well laid out, peopled with many figures, and its story neatly told. Above, in the usual place, is this inscription,—“Sensit Alexander testã quum vidit in illã magnum habitatorem, quanto felicior hic, qui nil cuperet (quàm) qui totum sibi posceret orbem.”

Tapestry;subject, a beautifully-wooded scene with a stream running down the middle of it, and across which two men, one on each side, are talking. French, early 17th century.

On one side stands Dionysius; on the other, and holding a bunch of vegetables, which he is about to wash in the brook, is Diogenes, who was not remarkable for his personal cleanliness. Dionysius, it would seem, has been twitting him upon that subject, and gets for answer that his very presence taints with dirt Diogenes himself, and the waters in which he is about to wash his pot-herbs: “Sordet mihi Dionysius lavanti olera,” as the Latin inscription reads above.

TapestryWall-hanging; design, a wooded scene in the background; in the foreground, Diogenes and a man. French, early 17th century.

Before a large tub, lying on its side, is stretched out Diogenes, pointing his finger to his curious dwelling, with his head looking towards a wayfarer, to whom he seems to say those words traced on the blue label at the top,—“Qui domum ambit hanc (anne?) me sepeliat.” This appears to have been drawn from his lips by the man going by, who is pointing towards the gaping mouth of the tub.

Tapestry;subject, a gate-way built of rough stone, over which a female is tracing an inscription, of which are written in large capital letters these words:—

“Nihil hic ingrediatur mali.”

Besides this, we find these sentences also:—

“Diogenes Cynicus subscribit;” and, “Spado sceleratus scripsit.”

In these five pieces of tapestry, which were evidently employed for hanging the walls in some especial hall, we cannot but admire the ease and freedom of their whole design, and be struck especially by the beauty of their wild, yet charming landscapes, which are so well brought out by the weaver-artist who wrought them.

Tapestry;subject, the holy family, after Raphael. Presented by His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Napoleon III.

No words are necessary to call the observer’s attention to this admirable specimen of the French loom. Of the many fine pieces sent forth by the manufactory of the Gobelins, this may easily take a place among the very finest; and, at first sight, many people might be led to think that it was the work of the pencil, and not of machinery. About it there is a warmth and depth of mellow colouring which has partly fled from the original, through time and, may be, want of care. Those who have seen the pictures at the Louvre must well remember the grand and precious original of which this is such a successful copy.

TapestryWall-hanging; design, our Lord giving the power of the keys to St. Peter, after Raphael’s cartoon. English (probably from Soho), 17th century. 17 feet 1 inch by 12 feet.

The point of time chosen by the great Roman painter is that indicated by St. Matthew, xvi. 18, 19; for St. Peter holds the keys promised him by his divine Master, at whose feet he alone, of all the apostles, is kneeling. Behind our Lord is a large flock of sheep, as explanatory of the pastoral power bestowed, after His uprising from the grave, by our Saviour upon St. Peter more especially, to feed the sheep as well as lambs in His flock, as we read in St. John, xxi. 16, 17: both subjects are naturally connected.By the many engravings, but, more particularly, the fine photographs of the original cartoon, once at Hampton Court, now in this Museum, this subject is well known. In this especial piece, the colouring, being so badly graduated and garish, is by no means as good as in the earlier one, still to be seen in the Gallery of the Tapestries at the Vatican. Here, the tone of our Lord’s drapery is not distinguishable from the stony hue of the wool upon the sheep behind Him.

By the many engravings, but, more particularly, the fine photographs of the original cartoon, once at Hampton Court, now in this Museum, this subject is well known. In this especial piece, the colouring, being so badly graduated and garish, is by no means as good as in the earlier one, still to be seen in the Gallery of the Tapestries at the Vatican. Here, the tone of our Lord’s drapery is not distinguishable from the stony hue of the wool upon the sheep behind Him.

Panelof Tapestry; ground, light blue; design, bunches of flowers upon a white panel. 2 feet 11½ inches by 2 feet 3½ inches. Aubusson, present century. Presented by Messrs. Requillart, Roussel, and Chocqueel.

After Paris with the Gobelins, and the city of Beauvais, there is no town in France which produces such fine tapestries as Aubusson, the carpets of which are much admired.

FourPieces of Tapestry; ground, light blue; design, flowers. French, present century. Presented by His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Napoleon III.

Beauvais, which produced these beautiful specimens, has long been famous for the works of the loom; and the present lovely figures of such well-drawn, nicely-coloured flowers are worthy of that city’s reputation.

TapestryWall-hanging; subject, Esther about to venture into the presence of Ahasuerus. From the Soulages Collection. Flemish, first half of the 16th century. Height 13 feet, breadth 11 feet 6 inches.

The history, as here shown us, of a most eventful achievement, is at top distributed into four groups, each made up of figures rather small in stature; and at bottom, into other five clusters, in which all the personages assume a proportion little short of life-size.Beginning with those higher compartments on the piece, we find in the two at the left-hand side the commencement of this Scriptural record. The mighty Ahasuerus is presented to us in the second of those two groups there, as seated amid trees, and robed as would have been a sovereign prince during the first half of the sixteenth century. All about his head and neck the Persian king wears, wrapped in loose folds, a linen cloth, over which he has a large scarlet hat with an ornament for a crown, made up of small silver shield-shaped plates, marked with wedge-like stripes of a light blue colour, or heraldically,argent, five pilesazuremeeting at the base; over his shoulders falls an unspotted ermine cape jagged all about its edge so as to look as if meant for a nebulée border. Upon the left breast of this sort of mantle is sewed a little crimson shield-shaped badge marked in white seemingly with the letter A, not having, however, the stroke through it, but above, the sign of contraction dashed. He wears a blue tabard, is girt with a sword, and holds in his left hand a tall wand, that golden sceptrewhich, if not outstretched in token of clemency towards the man or woman who had the hardihood to come unbidden to his presence, signified that such a bold intruder, were she the queen herself, must be put to death. Having nobles and guards about him, this monarch of one hundred and twenty-seven provinces is handing to Haman, one of those three princes before him, a written document from which hang two royal seals: this is that terrible decree, which, out of spite towards Mordecai, and hatred for the Jewish race, Haman had won from his partial master Ahasuerus, for the slaughter, on a certain day, of every Hebrew within the Persian empire.Yet further to the left is another group, wherein we observe some of the richly-attired functionaries of the empire. A bareheaded old man, a royal messenger, who holds up his left hand as if to indicate he had come from the court of Ahasuerus, delivers to one of the nobles there this original decree to be copied out and sent in all directions through the kingdom.Looking still at top, but to the far right, we have in the background, amid the trees, a large house, from out of the midst of which stands up a tall red beam, the gibbet, fifty cubits high, got ready by Haman at his wife’s and friends’ suggestion for hanging on it Mordecai. In this foreground we behold Haman clad in a blue mantle and a rich golden chain about his neck: to the man standing respectfully before him, cap in hand, Haman gives the written order duly authenticated by the two imperial seals upon it, for the execution of Mordecai. Immediately to the left of this scene we are presented with the inside view of a fine chamber hung with tapestry, and ornamented with tall vases, two of which are on a shelf close by a lattice-window. In the middle of this room is a group of three women: one of them, Esther, richly clad, is seated and wringing her hands in great grief, as if she had learned the fell death awaiting her uncle, and the slaughter already decreed of all her nation: two of her gentlewomen are with her, wailing, like their queen-mistress, the coming catastrophe.Right in the centre of the piece, and occupying its most conspicuous position, we behold the tall stately figure of a beautiful young queen, splendidly arrayed, and wearing over the rich caul upon her head a royal diadem. She seems to have just arisen from the magnificent throne or rather faldstool close behind her. With both her hands clasped in supplication, she is followed in her upward course by her train of attendants—two ladies and a nobleman—all gaily dressed, threading their way through as they ascend from the hall below crowded with courtiers, men and women gossiping together in little knots, and setoff in fashionable dress. While bending her steps, Esther looks towards the spot where Ahasuerus is sitting. At this moment an oldish man steps forward, clad after a beseeming fashion: in one hand he holds his red cap, while with the other hand he is stretching out, for Esther’s acceptance, his inscribed roll. This person must be Mordecai, thus shown as instructing and encouraging his niece-queen Esther in the hazardous work of saving her people’s lives, at the same time that he furnishes her with a copy of the decree for their utter annihilation.This inner court of the King’s house where Esther is now standing over against the hall in which Ahasuerus sits upon his throne is crowded with courtiers, all remarkable for the elegance and costliness of their dress. In a circle of three great personages to the right, one of those high-born dames has brought with her her guitar, made in the form of the calabash, to help on by her music the expected mirth and revelry of the day.In those several instances in which the royal decree is figured with the imperial seals hanging from it, the impression stamped upon the wax seems, no doubt, to be taken as the cipher of Ahasuerus, a large A, but without the stroke through it.One remarkable feature among the ornaments of dress assumed by almost all the great personages in this piece of tapestry is the large-linked, heavy golden chain about the neck, worn as much by ladies as by gentlemen. The caps of the men are mostly square.The elaborately-adorned, closely-fitting, round-shaped caul worn by the women in this court of Ahasuerus is in strict accordance with the female fashion abroad at the beginning of the sixteenth century; while here, in England, the gable-headed coif found more favour than the round with our countrywomen. Then, however, as now, ladies loved long trains to their gowns; and the men’s shoes had that peculiar broad toe so conspicuously marked in Hans Holbein’s cartoon for a picture of our Henry VIII. belonging to the Duke of Devonshire, and exhibited among the National Portraits on loan to the South Kensington Museum,A.D.1866.

Beginning with those higher compartments on the piece, we find in the two at the left-hand side the commencement of this Scriptural record. The mighty Ahasuerus is presented to us in the second of those two groups there, as seated amid trees, and robed as would have been a sovereign prince during the first half of the sixteenth century. All about his head and neck the Persian king wears, wrapped in loose folds, a linen cloth, over which he has a large scarlet hat with an ornament for a crown, made up of small silver shield-shaped plates, marked with wedge-like stripes of a light blue colour, or heraldically,argent, five pilesazuremeeting at the base; over his shoulders falls an unspotted ermine cape jagged all about its edge so as to look as if meant for a nebulée border. Upon the left breast of this sort of mantle is sewed a little crimson shield-shaped badge marked in white seemingly with the letter A, not having, however, the stroke through it, but above, the sign of contraction dashed. He wears a blue tabard, is girt with a sword, and holds in his left hand a tall wand, that golden sceptrewhich, if not outstretched in token of clemency towards the man or woman who had the hardihood to come unbidden to his presence, signified that such a bold intruder, were she the queen herself, must be put to death. Having nobles and guards about him, this monarch of one hundred and twenty-seven provinces is handing to Haman, one of those three princes before him, a written document from which hang two royal seals: this is that terrible decree, which, out of spite towards Mordecai, and hatred for the Jewish race, Haman had won from his partial master Ahasuerus, for the slaughter, on a certain day, of every Hebrew within the Persian empire.

Yet further to the left is another group, wherein we observe some of the richly-attired functionaries of the empire. A bareheaded old man, a royal messenger, who holds up his left hand as if to indicate he had come from the court of Ahasuerus, delivers to one of the nobles there this original decree to be copied out and sent in all directions through the kingdom.

Looking still at top, but to the far right, we have in the background, amid the trees, a large house, from out of the midst of which stands up a tall red beam, the gibbet, fifty cubits high, got ready by Haman at his wife’s and friends’ suggestion for hanging on it Mordecai. In this foreground we behold Haman clad in a blue mantle and a rich golden chain about his neck: to the man standing respectfully before him, cap in hand, Haman gives the written order duly authenticated by the two imperial seals upon it, for the execution of Mordecai. Immediately to the left of this scene we are presented with the inside view of a fine chamber hung with tapestry, and ornamented with tall vases, two of which are on a shelf close by a lattice-window. In the middle of this room is a group of three women: one of them, Esther, richly clad, is seated and wringing her hands in great grief, as if she had learned the fell death awaiting her uncle, and the slaughter already decreed of all her nation: two of her gentlewomen are with her, wailing, like their queen-mistress, the coming catastrophe.

Right in the centre of the piece, and occupying its most conspicuous position, we behold the tall stately figure of a beautiful young queen, splendidly arrayed, and wearing over the rich caul upon her head a royal diadem. She seems to have just arisen from the magnificent throne or rather faldstool close behind her. With both her hands clasped in supplication, she is followed in her upward course by her train of attendants—two ladies and a nobleman—all gaily dressed, threading their way through as they ascend from the hall below crowded with courtiers, men and women gossiping together in little knots, and setoff in fashionable dress. While bending her steps, Esther looks towards the spot where Ahasuerus is sitting. At this moment an oldish man steps forward, clad after a beseeming fashion: in one hand he holds his red cap, while with the other hand he is stretching out, for Esther’s acceptance, his inscribed roll. This person must be Mordecai, thus shown as instructing and encouraging his niece-queen Esther in the hazardous work of saving her people’s lives, at the same time that he furnishes her with a copy of the decree for their utter annihilation.

This inner court of the King’s house where Esther is now standing over against the hall in which Ahasuerus sits upon his throne is crowded with courtiers, all remarkable for the elegance and costliness of their dress. In a circle of three great personages to the right, one of those high-born dames has brought with her her guitar, made in the form of the calabash, to help on by her music the expected mirth and revelry of the day.

In those several instances in which the royal decree is figured with the imperial seals hanging from it, the impression stamped upon the wax seems, no doubt, to be taken as the cipher of Ahasuerus, a large A, but without the stroke through it.

One remarkable feature among the ornaments of dress assumed by almost all the great personages in this piece of tapestry is the large-linked, heavy golden chain about the neck, worn as much by ladies as by gentlemen. The caps of the men are mostly square.

The elaborately-adorned, closely-fitting, round-shaped caul worn by the women in this court of Ahasuerus is in strict accordance with the female fashion abroad at the beginning of the sixteenth century; while here, in England, the gable-headed coif found more favour than the round with our countrywomen. Then, however, as now, ladies loved long trains to their gowns; and the men’s shoes had that peculiar broad toe so conspicuously marked in Hans Holbein’s cartoon for a picture of our Henry VIII. belonging to the Duke of Devonshire, and exhibited among the National Portraits on loan to the South Kensington Museum,A.D.1866.

TapestryHanging; subject, the three Fates with a young lady lying dead at their feet. Flemish, early 16th century.

With a grove of blooming trees behind them, and upon a lawn, everywhere sprinkled with many kinds of flowers, stand the Fates. Each of the weird sisters may be individually known by her proper name written in white letters near her head. Beginning from the right side of the piece, we have the spinster Clotho, who is figured as a youthful maiden; amid the boughs of a tree just above her is seen a long-billed bird of the snipe-kind; she is gaily dressed in a yellow kirtle, elaborately diapered after a flowery pattern done in green, over which she wears a gown of deep crimson velvet, while from her girdled waist falls a large golden chain ending in a gold pomander. In her left hand she holds a distaff, keeping at the same time between her fingers the thread which she has but just done spinning. Next to Clotho stands Lachesis, almost as young in look; she is not quite so sprightly but yet as elegantly clad as her sister with the distaff; billing and cooing above this feigned manager of individual destiny we behold a pair of turtle-doves; this second of the Fates is clad in robes of a light pink tone nicely and artistically diapered, and with her left hand she takes from Clotho the thread just spun and with her right passes it on to Atropos. This the last, and the most dreaded of the fatal three, looks older than the other two, and is arrayed more matronly. Clothed in deep blue, Atropos wears a large full white kerchief, which, as its name implies, not only covers her head, but falls well down from her shoulders half-way to her broad girdle, upon which is slung a string of beads for prayer—a rosary. Atropos, whose imaginary office was to cut with knife, or scissors, or a pair of shears, the thread of life, uses no such an instrument here; for with her hands she has broken the life-cord, and the spindle, around which it had been wound, lies thrown upon the flowery turf close by the head of the victim of the Fates. At the feet of these three sisters lies, stretched out in all her fullest length, a youthful lady dead. She wears a kerchief on her head, and over her richly-diapered pink gown she has a light crimson mantle thickly powdered with small golden crescents. Her bed seems made of early summer flowers; and alongside of her, and as if just fallen from her outstretched right hand, lies the tall stalk, snapped short off near the lower end, of a blooming white lily. At one side, but lower down, is the half-figure of a monkey; some way to the right, but on the same level, sits in quiet security a large brown hare; while between these two animals, from out a hole in the ground, as if they snuffed their future prey in the dead body, are creeping a weasel and a stoat, just after a large toad that has crawled out before them.This piece of tapestry, valuable alike for its artistic excellence and its good preservation, has a more than common interest about it. In all likelihoodit gives us the history, nay, perhaps affords us the very portraiture of some high-born, beautiful young lady, well known and admired in her day. A little something at least may be gathered from its symbolism. By the heathen mythological distribution of functions among the poetic Parcæ, or Fates, to the second of these three sisters, to Lachesis, was it given to decide the especial destiny of each mortal the hour that she or he was born. Now in the instance before us a pair of turtle-doves, love’s emblem, is conspicuously shown above the head of Lachesis. As this young lady’s life-thread slipped through her fingers Lachesis has touched it, quickened it so that the child for whom it is being spun shall have a heart all maidenly, but soft to the impressions of the gentle passion—love. She has been wooed and made a bride, for she has on the married woman’s kerchief. That lily-stem with its opening buds and full-blown flowers at top is the emblem of a spotless whiteness, an unstained innocence; the stalk is broken, but the flowers on it are unwithered. What fitter tokens of a bride’s unlooked-for death, the very morning of her marriage? But that monkey-emblem of mischief, evil, moral ugliness, and in particular of lubricity—perhaps may mean us to understand the worthlessness of wanton, profligate men. As the harmless unsuspecting hare is easily snared and taken in a toil, so she might have been caught, but may have been spared, by early death, a life of misery. Those loathsome things coming from out the ground warn men that all of us must one day or another become the prey of the grave, and that youth, and innocence, and beauty will be its food.

This piece of tapestry, valuable alike for its artistic excellence and its good preservation, has a more than common interest about it. In all likelihoodit gives us the history, nay, perhaps affords us the very portraiture of some high-born, beautiful young lady, well known and admired in her day. A little something at least may be gathered from its symbolism. By the heathen mythological distribution of functions among the poetic Parcæ, or Fates, to the second of these three sisters, to Lachesis, was it given to decide the especial destiny of each mortal the hour that she or he was born. Now in the instance before us a pair of turtle-doves, love’s emblem, is conspicuously shown above the head of Lachesis. As this young lady’s life-thread slipped through her fingers Lachesis has touched it, quickened it so that the child for whom it is being spun shall have a heart all maidenly, but soft to the impressions of the gentle passion—love. She has been wooed and made a bride, for she has on the married woman’s kerchief. That lily-stem with its opening buds and full-blown flowers at top is the emblem of a spotless whiteness, an unstained innocence; the stalk is broken, but the flowers on it are unwithered. What fitter tokens of a bride’s unlooked-for death, the very morning of her marriage? But that monkey-emblem of mischief, evil, moral ugliness, and in particular of lubricity—perhaps may mean us to understand the worthlessness of wanton, profligate men. As the harmless unsuspecting hare is easily snared and taken in a toil, so she might have been caught, but may have been spared, by early death, a life of misery. Those loathsome things coming from out the ground warn men that all of us must one day or another become the prey of the grave, and that youth, and innocence, and beauty will be its food.

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