FOOTNOTES:

“Fortune! I thank thee, gentle goddess! thanks!Not that my muse, though bashful, shall denyShe would have thanked thee rather, hadst thou castA treasure in her way; for neither meedOf early breakfast, to dispel the fumesAnd bowel-raking pains of emptiness,Nor noontide feast, nor ev’ning’s cool repast,Hopes she from this—presumptuous, though perhapsThe cobbler, leather-carving artist, might.Nathless she thanks thee, and accepts thy boon,Whatever; not as erst the fabled cock,Vain-glorious fool! unknowing what he found,Spurned the rich gem thou gavest him. Wherefore, ah!Why not on me that favour, (worthier sure!)Conferr’dst, goddess! thou art blind, thou sayest:Enough! thy blindness shall excuse the deed.”

Return we to our needlework.

We have clear proof that, before the end of the seventh century, our fair countrywomen were skilled not merely in the use of the needle as applied to necessary purposes, but also in its application to the varied and elegant embroidered garments to which we have so frequently alluded, as forming properties of value and consideration. They were chiefly executed by ladies of the highest rank and greatest piety—very frequently, indeed, by those of royal blood—and were usually (as we have before observed) devoted to the embellishment of the church, or the decoration of its ministers. It wasnot unusual to bequeath such properties. “I give,” said the wife of the Conqueror, in her will, “to the Abbey of the Holy Trinity, my tunic worked at Winchester by Alderet’s wife, and the mantle embroidered with gold, which is in my chamber, to make a cope. Of my two golden girdles, I give that which is ornamented with emblems for the purpose of suspending the lamp before the great altar.”[19]Amongst some costly presents sent by Isabella, Queen of Edward the Second, to the Pope, was a magnificent cope, embroidered and studded with large white pearls, and purchased of the executors of Catherine Lincoln, for a sum equivalent to between two and three thousand pounds of present money. Another cope, thought worthy to accompany it, was also the work of an Englishwoman, Rose de Bureford, wife of John de Bureford, citizen and merchant of London.

Anciently, banners, either from being made of some relic, or from the representation on them of holy things, were held sacred, and much superstitious faith placed in them; consequently the pious and industrious finger was much occupied in working them. King Arthur, when he fought the eighth battle against the Saxons, carried the “image of Christ and of the blessed Mary (always a virgin) upon his shoulders.” Over the tomb of Oswald, the great Christian hero, was laid a banner of purple wrought with gold. When St. Augustine first came to preach to the Saxons, he had a cross borne before him, with a banner, on which was the image of ourSaviour Christ. The celebrated standard of the Danes had the sacred raven worked on it; and the ill-fated Harold bore to the field of Hastings a banner with the figure of an armed man worked in gold thread: to the same field William bore a standard, a gift from the Pope, and blessed by his Holiness.

It is recorded of St. Dunstan, who, as our readers well know, excelled in many pursuits, and especially in painting, for which he frequently forsook his peculiar occupation of goldsmith, that on one occasion, at the earnest request of a lady, hetinteda sacerdotal vestment for her, which she afterwards embroidered in gold thread in an exquisitely beautiful style. Most of these embroidered works were first tinted, very probably in the way in which they now are, or until the freer influx of the more beautiful German patterns, they lately were; and it is from this previous tinting that they are so frequently described in the old books aspaintedgarments,picturedvestments, &c., this term by no means seeming usually to imply that the use of the needle had been neglected or superseded in them. The garments of Edward the Confessor, which he wore upon occasions of great solemnity, were sumptuously embroidered with gold by the hands of Edgitha, his Queen. The four princesses, daughters of King Edward the Elder, were most carefully educated: their early years were chiefly devoted to literary pursuits, but they were nevertheless most assiduously instructed in the use of the needle, and are highly celebrated by historians for their assiduity and skill in spinning, weaving, and needlework.This was so far, says the historian, from spoiling the fortunes of those royal spinsters, that it procured them the addresses of the greatest princes then in Europe, and one, “in whom the whole essence of beauty had centered, was demanded from her brother by Hugh, King of the Franks.”

Our fair readers may take some interest in knowing what were the propitiatory offerings of a noble suitor of those days.

“Perfumes, such as never had been seen in England before; jewels, but more especially emeralds, the greenness of which, reflected by the sun, illumined the countenances of the bystanders with agreeable light; many fleet horses, with their trappings, and, as Virgil says, ‘champing their golden bits;’ an alabaster vase, so exquisitely chased, that the corn-fields really seemed to wave, the vines to bud, the figures of men actually to move, and so clear and polished, that it reflected the features like a mirror; the sword of Constantine the Great, on which the name of its original possessor was read in golden letters; on the pommel, upon thick plates of gold, might be seen fixed an iron spike, one of the four which the Jewish faction prepared for the crucifixion of our Lord; the spear of Charles the Great, which, whenever that invincible Emperor hurled in his expeditions against the Saracens, he always came off conqueror; it was reported to be the same which, driven into the side of our Saviour by the hand of the centurion, opened, by that precious wound, the joys of paradise to wretched mortals; the banner of the most blessed martyr Maurice, chief of the Theban legion, with which thesame King, in the Spanish war, used to break through the battalions of the enemy, however fierce and wedged together, and put them to flight; a diadem, precious from its quantity of gold, but more so for its jewels, the splendour of which threw the sparks of light so strongly on the beholders, that the more steadfastly any person endeavoured to gaze, so much the more dazzled he was—compelled to avert his eyes; part of the holy and adorable cross enclosed in crystal, where the eye, piercing through the substance of the stone, might discern the colour and size of the wood; a small portion of the crown of thorns enclosed in a similar manner, which, in derision of his government, the madness of the soldiers placed on Christ’s sacred head.

“The King (Athelstan), delighted with such great and exquisite presents, made an equal return of good offices, and gratified the soul of the longing suitor by a union with his sister. With some of these presents he enriched succeeding kings; but to Malmesbury he gave part of the cross and crown; by the support of which, I believe, that place even now flourishes, though it has suffered so many shipwrecks of its liberty, so many attacks of its enemies.”[20]

It is not to be supposed that at a time when the “whole island” was said to “blaze” with devotion, and when, moreover, her own fair daughters surpassed the whole world in needlework, that the English churches were deficient in its beautiful adornments. Far otherwise, indeed. We forbear to enumerate many, because our chapter has alreadyexceeded its prescribed limits; but we may particularize a golden veil or hanging (vellum), embroidered with the destruction of Troy, which Witlaf, King of Mercia, gave to the abbey of Croyland; and the coronation mantle of Harold Harefoot, son of Cnute, which he gave to the same abbey, made of silk, and embroidered with “Hesperian apples.” Richard, who was abbot of St. Alban’s from 1088 to 1119, made a present to his monastery of a suit of hangings which contained the whole history of the primitive martyr of England, Alban.

Croyland Abbey possessed many hangings for the altars, embroidered with golden birds; and a garment, which seems to have been a peculiar, and considered a valuable one, being a black gown wrought with gold letters, to officiate in at funerals. The enigmatical letters which were worked on ecclesiastical vestments in those days, were various and peculiar, and have given abundant scope for antiquarian research. We have heard it surmised that they took their rise in times of persecution, being indications (then, doubtless, slight and unostentatious ones) by which the Christians might know each other. But they came into more general use, not merely as symbolical characters, but individual names were wrought, and that not on personal garments alone, for Pope Leo the Fourth placed a cloth on the altar woven with gold, and spangled all over with pearls. It had on each side (right and left) a circle bounded with gold, within which the name of his Holiness was written in precious stones. In many old paintings a letter or letters have been noticed on the garment of the principal figure, and they have been taken for private marks of thepainter, but it is more probable, says Ciampini,[21]that they are either copied from old garments, or are intended to denote the dignity of the character to which they are attached.

We will conclude the present chapter by remarking that one of the most magnificent specimens of ancient needlework in existence, and which is in excellent preservation, is the State Pall belonging to the Fishmongers Company. The end pieces are similar, and consist of a picture, wrought in gold and silk, of the patron, St. Peter, in pontificial robes, seated on a superb throne, and crowned with the papal tiara. Holding in one hand the keys, the other is in the posture of giving the benediction, and on each side is an angel, bearing a golden vase, from which he scatters incense over the Saint. The angel’s wings, according to old custom, are composed of peacocks’ feathers in all their natural vivid colours; their outer robes are gold raised with crimson; their under vests white, shaded with sky blue; the faces are finely worked in satin, after nature, and they have long yellow hair.

There are various designs on the side pieces; the most important and conspicuous is Christ delivering the keys to Peter. Among other decorations are, of course, the arms of the company, richly emblazoned, the supporters of which, the merman and mermaid, are beautifully worked, the merman in gold armour, the mermaid in white silk, with long tresses in golden thread.

This magnificent piece of needlework has probably no parallel in this country.

FOOTNOTES:[11]When Robert, Abbot of St. Alban’s, visited his countryman Pope Adrian the Fourth, he made him several valuable presents, and amongst other things three mitres and a pair of sandals of most admirable workmanship. His holiness refused his other presents, but thankfully accepted of the mitres and sandals, being charmed with their exquisite beauty. These admired pieces of embroidery were the work of Christina, Abbess of Markgate.[12]“Anglicæ nationis feminæ multum acu et auri textura, egregie viri in omni valeant artificio.Però fu renomato Opus Anglicum.”—FromMuratori.[13]A florene is 4s.6d.[14]“The pall was a bishop’s vestment, going over the shoulders, made of sheep-skin, in memory of him who sought the lost sheep, and when he had found it laid it on his shoulders; and it was embroidered with crosses, and taken off the body or coffin of St. Peter.”—Camden.[15]Anastasius Bibliothecarius. De Vitis Romanorum Pontificum.As this work is the fountain whence subsequent writers have chiefly obtained their information with regard to church vestments, that is to say, decorative ones, it may not be amiss to transcribe a passage, taken literally at random from scores of similar ones. It will give the reader some idea of the profusion with which the expensive garnitures were supplied:—“Sed et super altare majus fecit tetra vela holoserica alithina quatuor, cum astillis, et rosis chrysoclabis. Et in eodem altare fecit cum historiis crucifixi Domini vestem tyriam. Et in Ecclesia Doctoris Mundi beati Pauli Apostoli tetra vela holoserica alithyna quatuor, et vestem super altare albam chrysoclabam, habentem historiam Sanctæ Resurrectionis, et aliam vestem chrysoclabam, habentem historiam nativitatis Domini, et Sanctorum Innocentium. Immo et aliam vestem tyriam, habentem historiam cæci illuminati, et Resurrectionem. Idem autem sanctissimus Præsul fecit in basilica beatæ Mariæ ad Præsepe vestem albam chrysoclabam, habentem historiam sanctæ Resurrectionis. Sed et aliam vestem in orbiculis chrysoclabis, habentem historias Annunciationis, et sanctorum Joachim, et Annæ. Fecit in Ecclesia beati Laurentii foris muros eidem Præsul vestem albam rosatam cum chrysoclabo. Sed et aliam vestem super sanctum corpus ejus albam de stauraci chrysoclabam, cum margaritis. Et in titulo Calixti vestem chrysoclabam ex blattin Byzanteo, habentem historiam nativitatis Domini, et sancti Simeonis. Item in Ecclesia sancti Pancratii vestem tyriam, habentem historiam Ascencionis Domini, seu et in sancta Maria ad Martyres fecit vestem tyriam ut supra. Et in basilica sanctorum Cosmæ et Damiani fecit vestem de blatti Byzanteo, cum periclysin de chrysoclabo, et margaritis.”—i. 285.[16]“De staurace.”[17]“Opere plumario exquitissime præparatas.”[18]In the classical ages, they were in high repute. Juno’s chariot is drawn by peacocks; and Olympian Jove himself invests his royal limbs with a mantle formed of their feathers.[19]The name of Dame Leviet has descended to posterity as an embroiderer to the Conqueror and his Queen.[20]Will. of Malmesbury, 156.[21]Vet. Mon. cap. 13.

[11]When Robert, Abbot of St. Alban’s, visited his countryman Pope Adrian the Fourth, he made him several valuable presents, and amongst other things three mitres and a pair of sandals of most admirable workmanship. His holiness refused his other presents, but thankfully accepted of the mitres and sandals, being charmed with their exquisite beauty. These admired pieces of embroidery were the work of Christina, Abbess of Markgate.

[12]“Anglicæ nationis feminæ multum acu et auri textura, egregie viri in omni valeant artificio.Però fu renomato Opus Anglicum.”—FromMuratori.

[13]A florene is 4s.6d.

[14]“The pall was a bishop’s vestment, going over the shoulders, made of sheep-skin, in memory of him who sought the lost sheep, and when he had found it laid it on his shoulders; and it was embroidered with crosses, and taken off the body or coffin of St. Peter.”—Camden.

[15]Anastasius Bibliothecarius. De Vitis Romanorum Pontificum.As this work is the fountain whence subsequent writers have chiefly obtained their information with regard to church vestments, that is to say, decorative ones, it may not be amiss to transcribe a passage, taken literally at random from scores of similar ones. It will give the reader some idea of the profusion with which the expensive garnitures were supplied:—“Sed et super altare majus fecit tetra vela holoserica alithina quatuor, cum astillis, et rosis chrysoclabis. Et in eodem altare fecit cum historiis crucifixi Domini vestem tyriam. Et in Ecclesia Doctoris Mundi beati Pauli Apostoli tetra vela holoserica alithyna quatuor, et vestem super altare albam chrysoclabam, habentem historiam Sanctæ Resurrectionis, et aliam vestem chrysoclabam, habentem historiam nativitatis Domini, et Sanctorum Innocentium. Immo et aliam vestem tyriam, habentem historiam cæci illuminati, et Resurrectionem. Idem autem sanctissimus Præsul fecit in basilica beatæ Mariæ ad Præsepe vestem albam chrysoclabam, habentem historiam sanctæ Resurrectionis. Sed et aliam vestem in orbiculis chrysoclabis, habentem historias Annunciationis, et sanctorum Joachim, et Annæ. Fecit in Ecclesia beati Laurentii foris muros eidem Præsul vestem albam rosatam cum chrysoclabo. Sed et aliam vestem super sanctum corpus ejus albam de stauraci chrysoclabam, cum margaritis. Et in titulo Calixti vestem chrysoclabam ex blattin Byzanteo, habentem historiam nativitatis Domini, et sancti Simeonis. Item in Ecclesia sancti Pancratii vestem tyriam, habentem historiam Ascencionis Domini, seu et in sancta Maria ad Martyres fecit vestem tyriam ut supra. Et in basilica sanctorum Cosmæ et Damiani fecit vestem de blatti Byzanteo, cum periclysin de chrysoclabo, et margaritis.”—i. 285.

[15]Anastasius Bibliothecarius. De Vitis Romanorum Pontificum.

As this work is the fountain whence subsequent writers have chiefly obtained their information with regard to church vestments, that is to say, decorative ones, it may not be amiss to transcribe a passage, taken literally at random from scores of similar ones. It will give the reader some idea of the profusion with which the expensive garnitures were supplied:—

“Sed et super altare majus fecit tetra vela holoserica alithina quatuor, cum astillis, et rosis chrysoclabis. Et in eodem altare fecit cum historiis crucifixi Domini vestem tyriam. Et in Ecclesia Doctoris Mundi beati Pauli Apostoli tetra vela holoserica alithyna quatuor, et vestem super altare albam chrysoclabam, habentem historiam Sanctæ Resurrectionis, et aliam vestem chrysoclabam, habentem historiam nativitatis Domini, et Sanctorum Innocentium. Immo et aliam vestem tyriam, habentem historiam cæci illuminati, et Resurrectionem. Idem autem sanctissimus Præsul fecit in basilica beatæ Mariæ ad Præsepe vestem albam chrysoclabam, habentem historiam sanctæ Resurrectionis. Sed et aliam vestem in orbiculis chrysoclabis, habentem historias Annunciationis, et sanctorum Joachim, et Annæ. Fecit in Ecclesia beati Laurentii foris muros eidem Præsul vestem albam rosatam cum chrysoclabo. Sed et aliam vestem super sanctum corpus ejus albam de stauraci chrysoclabam, cum margaritis. Et in titulo Calixti vestem chrysoclabam ex blattin Byzanteo, habentem historiam nativitatis Domini, et sancti Simeonis. Item in Ecclesia sancti Pancratii vestem tyriam, habentem historiam Ascencionis Domini, seu et in sancta Maria ad Martyres fecit vestem tyriam ut supra. Et in basilica sanctorum Cosmæ et Damiani fecit vestem de blatti Byzanteo, cum periclysin de chrysoclabo, et margaritis.”—i. 285.

[16]“De staurace.”

[17]“Opere plumario exquitissime præparatas.”

[18]In the classical ages, they were in high repute. Juno’s chariot is drawn by peacocks; and Olympian Jove himself invests his royal limbs with a mantle formed of their feathers.

[19]The name of Dame Leviet has descended to posterity as an embroiderer to the Conqueror and his Queen.

[20]Will. of Malmesbury, 156.

[21]Vet. Mon. cap. 13.

“Needlework sublime.”Cowper.

Great discussion has taken place amongst the learned with regard to the exact time at which the Bayeux tapestry was wrought. The question, except as a matter of curiosity, is, perhaps, of little account—fifty years earlier or later, nearly eight hundred years ago. It had always been considered as the work of Matilda, the wife of the conquering Duke of Normandy until a few years ago, when the Abbé de la Rue started and endeavoured to maintain the hypothesis that it was worked by or under the direction of the Empress Matilda, the daughter of Henry the First.[22]But his positions, as Dibdin observes,[23]are all of anegativecharacter, and, “according to the strict rules of logic, it must not be admitted, that because such and such writers havenotnoticed a circumstance, therefore thatcircumstance or event cannot have taken place.” Hudson Gurney, Charles A. Stothard, and Thos. Amyot, Esqrs. have all published essays on the subject,[24]which establish almost to certainty the fact of the production of this tapestry at the earlier of the two periods contended for, viz. from 1066 to 1068.

In this we rejoice, because this Herculean labour has a halo of deep interest thrown round it, from the circumstance of its being the proud tribute of a fond and affectionate wife, glorying in her husband’s glory, and proud of emblazoning his deeds. As the work of the Empress Matilda it would still be a magnificent production of industry and of skill; as the work of “Duke William’s” wife these qualities merge in others of a more interesting character.[25]

This excellent and amiable princess was a most highly accomplished woman, and remarkable for her learning; she was the affectionate mother of a large family, the faithful wife of an enterprising monarch, with whom she lived for thirty-three years so harmoniously that her death had such an effect on her husband as to cause him to relinquish, never again to resume, his usual amusements.[26]

Little did the affectionate wife think, whilst employed over this task, that her domestic tribute of regard should become an historical memento of her country, and blazon forth her illustrious husband’s deeds, and her own unwearying affection, to ages upon ages hereafter to be born. For independently of the interest which may be attached to this tapestry as a pledge of feminine affection, a token of housewifely industry, and a specimen of ancient stitchery, it derives more historic value as the work of the Conqueror’s wife, than if it were the production of a later time. For it holds good with these historical tapestries as with the written histories and romances of the middle ages;—authors wrote and ladies wrought (we mean no pun) their characters,notin the costume of the times in which the action or event celebrated took place, but in that in which they were at the time engaged; and thus, had Matilda the Empress worked this tapestry, it is more than probable that she would have introduced the armorial bearings which were in her time becoming common, and especially the Norman leopards, of which in the tapestry there is not the slightest trace. In her time too the hair was worn so long as to excite the censures of the church, whilst at the time of the Conquest the Normans almost shaved their heads; and this circumstance, more than the want of beards, is supposed by Mr. Stothard[27]to have led to the surmise of the Anglo-Saxon spies that the Normans were all priests. This circumstance is faithfully depicted in the tapestry, where also the chief weapon seen is a lance, which was little used after the Conquest. These peculiarities,with several others which have been commented on by antiquarian writers, seem to establish the date of this production as coeval with the action which it represents, and therefore invaluable as an historical document.

“It is, perhaps,” says one of the learned writers on the Bayeux tapestry, “a characteristic of the literature of the present age to deduce history from sources of second-rate authority; from ballads and pictures rather than from graver and severer records. Unquestionably this is the preferable course, if amusement, not truth, be the object sought for. Nothing can be more delightful than to read the reigns of the Plantagenets in the dramas of Shakspeare, or the tales of later times in the ingenious fictions of the author of Waverley. But those who would draw historical facts from their hiding-places must be content to plod through many a ponderous worm-eaten folio, and many a half-legible and still less intelligible manuscript.

“Yet,” continues he, “if the Bayeux tapestry be not history of the first class, it is, perhaps, something better. It exhibits genuine traits, elsewhere sought in vain, of the costume and manners of that age which, of all others, if we except the period of the Reformation, ought to be the most interesting to us; that age which gave us a new race of monarchs, bringing with them new landholders, new laws, and almost a new language.

“As in the magic pages of Froissart, we here behold our ancestors of each race in most of the occupations of life, in courts and camps, in pastime and in battle, at feasts and on the bed of sickness. Theseare characteristics which of themselves would call forth a lively interest; but their value is greatly enhanced by their connection with one of the most important events in history, the main subject of the whole design.”

This magnificent piece of work is 227 feet in length by 20 inches in width, is now usually kept at the Town-hall in Rouen, and is treasured as the most precious relic. It was formerly the theme of some long and learned dissertations of antiquarian historians, amongst whom Montfaucon, perhaps, ranks most conspicuous.

Still so littlelocalinterest does it excite, that Mr. Gurney, in 1814, was nearly leaving Bayeux without seeing it because he did not happen to ask for it by the title of “Toile de St. Jean,” and so his request was not understood; and Ducarel, in his “Tour,” says, “The priests of this cathedral to whom we addressed ourselves for a sight of this remarkable piece of antiquity, knew nothing of it; the circumstance only of its being annually hung up in their church led them to understand what we wanted; no person there knowing that the object of our inquiry any ways related to William the Conqueror, whom to this day they call Duke William.”

During the French Revolution its surrender was demanded for the purpose of covering the guns; fortunately, however, a priest succeeded in concealing it until that storm was overpast.

Bonaparte better knew its value. It was displayed for some time in Paris, and afterwards at some seaport towns. M. Denon had the charge of it committed to him by Bonaparte, but it was afterwardsrestored to Bayeux. It was at the time of the usurper’s threatened invasion of our country that so much value was attached to, and so much pains taken to exhibit this roll. “Whether,” says Dibdin, “at such a sight the soldiers shouted, and, drawing their glittering swords,

“Clashed on their sounding shields the din of war,—”

confident of a second representation of the same subject by a second subjugation of our country—is a point which has not been exactly detailed to me! But the supposition may not be considered very violent when I inform you that I was told by a casual French visitor of the tapestry, that ‘pour cela, si Bonaparte avait eu le courage, le résultat auroit été comme autrefois.’ Matters, however, have takenrathera different turn.”

The tapestry is coiled round a machine like that which lets down the buckets to a well, and a female unrols and explains it. It is worked in different coloured worsteds on white cloth, to which time has given the tinge of brown holland; the parts intended to represent flesh are left untouched by the needle. The colours are somewhat faded, and not very multitudinous. Perhaps it is the little variety of colours which Matilda and her ladies had at their disposal which has caused them to depict the horses of any colour—“blue, green, red, or yellow.” The outline, too, is of course stiff and rude.[28]At the top and bottom of the main work is a narrowallegorical border; and each division or different action or event is marked by a branch or tree extending the whole depth of the tapestry; and most frequently each tableau is so arranged that the figures at the end of one and the beginning of the next are turned from each other, whilst above each the subject of the scene and the names of the principal actors are wrought in large letters. The subjects of the border vary; some of Æsop’s fables are depicted on it, sometimes instruments of agriculture, sometimes fanciful and grotesque figures and borders; and during the heat of the battle of Hastings, when, as Montfaucon says, “le carnage est grand,” the appropriate device of the border is alayer of dead men.

“From the fury of the Normans, good Lord deliver us,” was, we are told, in the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries a petition in the Litanies of all nations.[29]For long did England sorrow under their “fury,” thoughin timethe Conquest produced advantageous results to the kingdom at large. Whether this Norman subjugation was in accordance with the will of the monarch Edward, or whether it was entirely the result of Duke William’s ambition, must now ever remain in doubt. Harold asserted that Edward the Confessor appointed him his successor (of which, however, he could not produce proof); to this must be opposed the improbability of Edward thus ennobling a family of whom he felt, and with such abundant cause, so jealous.

Probably the old chronicler (Fabyan) has hit the mark when he says, “This Edgarre (the rightfulheir) was yonge, and specyally for Harolde was stronge of knyghtes and rychesse, he wanne the reygne.” Be this as it may, however, Harold on the very day of Edward’s interment, and that was only the day subsequent to his death, was crowned king in St. Paul’s; apparently with the concurrence of all concerned, for he was powerful and popular. And his government during the chief part of his short kingly career was such as to increase his popularity: he was wise, and just, and gracious. “Anone as he was crowned, he began to fordoo euyll lawes and customes before vsed, and stablysshed the good lawes, and specyally whiche (suche) as were for the defence of holy churche, and punysshed the euyll doers, to the fere and example of other.”[30]

But uncontrolled authority early began to produce its wonted results. He “waxyd so prowd, and for couetouse wold not deuyde the prayes that he took to hys knyghtys, that had well deseruyd it, but kepte it to hymself, that he therby lost the fauour of many of his knyghtys and people.”[31]This defection from his party doubtless made itself felt in the mortal struggle with the Norman duke which issued in Harold’s discomfiture and death.

Proceed we to the tapestry.

The first scene which the needlewoman has depicted is a conference between a person who, from his white flowing beard and regal costume, is easily recognized as the “sainted Edward,” and another, who, from his subsequent embarkation, is supposed to be Harold. The subject of the conference is, of course, only conjectured. Harold’s visit to Normandyis well known; but whether, as some suppose, he was driven thither by a tempest when on a cruise of pleasure; whether he went as ambassador from Edward to communicate the intentions of the Confessor in William’s behoof; or whether, as the tapestry is supposed more strongly to indicate, he obtained Edward’s reluctant consent to his visit to reclaim his brother who, a hostage for his own good conduct, had been sent to William by Edward; these are points which now defy investigation, even if they were of sufficient importance to claim it. Harold is then seen on his journey attended by cavaliers on horseback, surrounded by dogs, and, an emblem of his own high dignity, a hawk on his fist.

One great value of this tapestry is the scrupulous regard paid to points and circumstances which at first view might appear insignificant, but which, as correlative confirmations of usages and facts, are of considerable importance. Thus, it is known to antiquarians that great personages formerly had two only modes of equipment when proceeding on a journey, that of war or the chase. Harold is here fully equipped for the chase, and consequently the first glimpse obtained of his person would show that his errand was one of peace. The hawk on the fist was a mark of high nobility: no inferior person is represented with one: Harold and Guy Earl of Ponthieu alone bear them.

In former times this bird was esteemed so sacred that it was prohibited in the ancient laws for any one to give his hawk even as a part of his ransom. In the reign of Edward the Third it was made felony to steal a hawk; and to take its eggs, even in aperson’s own ground, was punishable with imprisonment for a year and a day, besides a fine at the king’s pleasure. Nay, more than this, by the laws of one part of the island, and probably of the whole,[32]the price of a hawk, or of a greyhound, was once the very same with the price of a man; and there was a time when the robbing of a hawk’s nest was as great a crime in the eye of the law, and as severely punished, as the murder of a Christian. And of this high value they were long considered. “It is difficult,” says Mr. Mills,[33]“to fancy the extravagant degree of estimation in which hawks were held during the chivalric ages. As symbols of high estate they were constantly carried about by the nobility of both sexes. There was even a usage of bringing them into places appropriated to public worship; a practice which, in the case of some individuals, appears to have been recognised as a right. The treasurer of the church of Auxerre enjoyed the distinction of assisting at divine service on solemn days with a falcon on his fist; and the Lord of Sassai held the privilege of perching his upon the altar. Nothing was thought more dishonourable to a man of rank than to give up his hawks; and if he were taken prisoner he would not resign them even for liberty.”

The different positions in which the hawk is placed in our needlework are worthy of remark. Here its head is raised, its wings fluttering, as if eager and ready for flight; afterwards, when Harold follows the Earl of Ponthieu as his captive, he isnot, of course, deprived of his bird, but by a beautiful fiction the bird is represented depressed, and with its head turned towards its master’s breast as if trying to nestle and shelter itself there. Could sympathy be more poetically expressed? Afterwards, on Harold’s release, the bird is again depicted as fluttering to “soar elate.”

The practice very prevalent in these “barbarous times,” as we somewhat too sweepingly term them, of entering on no expedition of war or pastime without imploring the protection of heaven, is intimated by a church which Harold is entering previously to his embarkation. That this observance might degenerate in many instances into mere form may be very true; and the “hunting masses” celebrated in song might, some of them, be more honoured in the breach than the observance: nevertheless in clearing away the dross of old times, we have, it is to be feared, removed some of the gold also; and the abolition of the custom of having the churches open atall times, so that at any moment the heart-prompted prayer might be offered up under the holy shelter of a consecrated roof, has tended very much, it is to be feared, to abolish the habit of frequent prayer. A habit in itself, and regarded even merely as a habit, fraught with inestimable good.

We next see Harold and his companions refreshing themselves prior to their departure, pledging each other, and doubtless drinking to the success of their enterprise whatever it might be. The horns from which they are drinking have been the subject of critical remark. We find that horns were usedfor various purposes, and were of four sorts, drinking horns, hunting horns, horns for summoning the people, and of a mixed kind.

They were used as modes of investiture, and this manner of endowing was usual amongst the Danes in England. King Cnute himself gave lands at Pusey in Berkshire to the family of that name, with a horn solemnly at that time delivered, as a confirmation of the grant. Edward the Confessor made a like donation to the family of Nigel. The celebrated horn of Alphus, kept in the sacristy in York Minster, was probably a drinking cup belonging to this prince, and was by him given together with all his lands and revenues to that church. “When he gave the horn that was to convey it (his estate) he filled it with wine, and on his knees before the altar, ‘Deo et S. Petro omnes terras et redditus propinavit.’ So that he drank it off, in testimony that thereby he gave them his lands.”[34]Many instances might be adduced to show that this mode of investiture was common in England in the time of the Danes, the Anglo-Saxons, and at the close of the reign of the Norman conqueror.

The drinking horns had frequently a screw at the end, which being taken off at once converted them into hunting horns, which circumstance will account for persons of distinction frequently carrying their own. Such doubtless were those used of old by the Breton hunters about Brecheliant, which is poetically described as a forest long and broad, much famed throughout Brittany. The fountain of Berentonrises from beneath a stone there. Thither the hunters are used to repair in sultry weather, and drawing up water with their horns (those horns which had just been used to sound the animated warnings of the chase), they sprinkle the stone for the purpose of having rain, which is then wont to fall throughout the whole forest around. There too fairies are to be seen, and many wonders happen. The ground is broken and precipitous, and deer in plenty roam there, but the husbandmen have forsaken it. Our author[35]goes on to say that he personally visited this enchanted region, but that, though he saw the forest and the land, no marvels presented themselves. The reason is obvious. He had, before the time, contracted some of the scepticism of these matter-of-fact “schoolmaster abroad” days. He wanted faith, and therefore he did notdeserveto see them.

The use of drinking horns is very ancient. They were usually embellished or garnished with silver; they were in very common use among our Saxon ancestors, who frequently had them gilded and magnificently ornamented. One of those in use amongst Harold’s party seems to be very richly decorated.

The revellers are, however, obliged to dispatch, as their leader, Harold, is already wading through the water to his vessel. The character of Harold as displayed throughout this tapestry is a magnificent one, and does infinite credit to the generous and noble disposition of Matilda the queen, whodisdained to depreciate the character of a fallen foe. He commences his expedition by an act of piety; here, on his embarkation at Bosham, he is kindly carrying his dog through the water. In crossing the sands of the river Cosno, which are dangerous, so very dangerous as most frequently to cause the destruction of those who attempt their transit, his whole concern seems to be to assist the passage of others, whose inferior natural powers do not enable them to compete with danger so successfully as himself; his character for undaunted bravery is such, that William condescends to supplicate his assistance in a feud then at issue between himself and another nobleman, and so nobly does he bear himself that the proud Norman with his own hands invests him with the emblems of honour (as seen in the tapestry); and, last scene of all, he disdained all submission, he repelled all the entreaties with which his brothers assailed him not personally to lead his troops to the encounter, and the corpses of 15,000 Normans on this field, and of even a greater number on the English monarch’s side, told in bloody characters that Harold had not quailed in the last great encounter.

Unpropitious winds drive him and his attendants from their intended course. Many historians accuse the people of Ponthieu of making prisoners all whose ill fortune threw them upon their coast, and of treating them with great barbarity, in order to extort the larger ransom. Be this as it may, Harold has scarcely set his foot on shore ere he is forcibly captured by the vassals of Guy of Ponthieu, who is there on horseback to witness the proceeding. Thetapestry goes on to picture the progress of the captured troop and their captors to Belrem or Beurain, and a conference when there between the earl and his prisoner, where the fair embroideresses have given a delicate and expressive feature by depicting the conquering noble with his sword elevated, and the princely captive, wearing indeed his sword, but with the point depressed.

It is said that a fisherman of Ponthieu, who had been often in England and knew Harold’s person, was the cause of his capture. “He went privily to Guy, the Count of Pontif, and would speak to no other; and he told the Count how he could put a great prize in his way, if he would go with him; and that if he would give him only twenty livres he should gain a hundred by it, for he would deliver him such a prisoner as would pay a hundred livres or more for his ransome.” The Count agreed to his terms, and then the fisherman showed him Harold.

Hearing of Harold’s captivity, William the Norman is anxious on all and every account to obtain possession of his person. He consequently sends ambassadors to Guy, who is represented on the tapestry as giving them audience. The person holding the horses is somewhat remarkable; he is a bearded dwarf. Dwarfs were formerly much sought after in the houses of great folks, and they were frequently sent as presents from one potentate to another. They were petted and indulged somewhat in the way of the more modern fool or jester. The custom is very old. The Romans were so fond of them, that they often used artificial methods toprevent the growth of children designed for dwarfs, by enclosing them in boxes, or by the use of tight bandages. The sister of one of the Roman emperors had a dwarf who was only two feet and a hand breadth in height. Many relations concerning dwarfs we may look upon as not less fabulous than those of giants. They are, like the latter, indispensable in romances, where their feats, far from being dwarfish, are absolutely gigantic, though these diminutive heroes seldom occupy any more ostensible post than that of humble attendant.

“Fill’d with these views th’attendant dwarfshe sends:Before the knight the dwarf respectful bends;Kind greetings bears as to his lady’s guest,And prays his presence to adorn her feast.The knight delays not.”———

“A hugye giaunt stiffe and starke,All foule of limbe and lere;Two goggling eyen like fire farden,A mouthe from eare to eare.Before him came a dwarffe full lowe,Thatwaited on his knee.”Sir Cauline.———

“Behind her farre away a dwarfe did lagThat lasie seem’d, in being ever last,Or wearied withbearing of her bagOf needments at his backe.”Faerie Queene.

The dwarf worked in the tapestry has the nameTvroldplaced above him, and seems to have been a dependant of Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, William the Conqueror’s brother.[36]

The first negotiations are unsuccessful; more urgent messages are forwarded, and in the end Duke William himself proceeds at the head of some troops tocompelthe surrender of the prisoner. Count Guy is intimidated, and the object is attained; every stage of these proceedings is depicted on the canvas, as well as William’s courteous reception of Harold at his palace.

The portraiture of a female in a sort of porch, with a clergyman in the act of pronouncing a benediction on her, is supposed to have reference to the engagement between William and his guest, that the latter should marry the daughter of the former. Many other circumstances and conditions were tacked to this agreement, one of which was that Harold should guard the English throne for William; agreements which one and all—under the reasonable plea that they were enforced ones—the Anglo-Saxon nobleman broke through. It is said that his desertion so affected the mind of the pious young princess,[37]that her heart broke on her passage to Spain, whither they were conveying her to a forced union with a Spanish prince. As this young lady was a mere child at the time of Harold’s visit to Normandy, the story, though exceedingly pretty, is probably very apocryphal. Ducarel gives an entirely different explanation of the scene, and says that it is probably meant to represent a secretary or officer coming to William’s duchess, to acquaint her with the agreement just made relative to her daughter.

The Earl of Bretagne is at this moment at war with Duke William, and the latter attaching Harold to his party, from whom indeed he receives effectual service, arrives at Mount St. Michel, passes the river Cosno (to which we have before alluded), and arrives at Dol in Brittany. Parties are seen flying towards Rennes. William and his followers attack Dinant, of which the keys are delivered up, and the Normans come peaceably to Bayeux; William having previously, with his own hands, invested Harold with a suit of armour.

Harold shortly returns to England, but not before a very important circumstance had taken place. William and Harold had mutually entered into an agreement by which the latter had pledged himself to be true to William, to acknowledge him as Edward’s successor on the English throne, and to do all in his power to obtain for him the peaceable possession of that throne; and as Harold was, the reigning monarch excepted, the first man in England, this promised support was of no trifling moment. William resolved therefore to have the oath repeated with all possible solemnity. His brother Odo, the Bishop of Bayeux, assisted him in this matter. Accordingly we see Harold standing between two altars covered with cloth of gold, a hand on each, uttering the solemn adjuration, of which William, seated on his throne, is a delighted auditor; for he well knew that the oath was more fearful than Harold was at all aware of. For “William sent for all the holy bodies thither, and put so many of them together as to fill a whole chest, and then covered them with a pall; but Harold neithersaw them, nor knew of their being there, for nought was shown or told to him about it; and over all was a phylactery, the best that he could select. When Harold placed his hand upon it, the hand trembled and the flesh quivered; but he swore, and promised upon his oath, to take Ele to wife, and to deliver up England to the duke; and thereunto to do all in his power, according to his might and wit, after the death of Edward, if he should live, so help him God and the holy relics there! (meaning the Gospels, for he had none idea of any other). Many cried ‘God grant it!’ and when Harold had kissed the saints, and had risen upon his feet, the duke led him up to the chest, and made him stand near it; and took off the chest the pall that had covered it, and showed Harold upon what holy relics he had sworn, and he was sorely alarmed at the sight.”

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