FOOTNOTE:

FOOTNOTE:[4]Persia had great wardrobes, where there were always many hundred habits, sorted, ready for presents, and the intendant of the wardrobe sent them to those persons for whom they were designed by the sovereign; more than forty tailors were always employed in this service. In Turkey they do not attend so much to the richness as to the number of the dresses, giving more or fewer according to the dignity of the persons to whom they are presented, or the marks of favour the prince would confer on his guests.

[4]Persia had great wardrobes, where there were always many hundred habits, sorted, ready for presents, and the intendant of the wardrobe sent them to those persons for whom they were designed by the sovereign; more than forty tailors were always employed in this service. In Turkey they do not attend so much to the richness as to the number of the dresses, giving more or fewer according to the dignity of the persons to whom they are presented, or the marks of favour the prince would confer on his guests.

[4]Persia had great wardrobes, where there were always many hundred habits, sorted, ready for presents, and the intendant of the wardrobe sent them to those persons for whom they were designed by the sovereign; more than forty tailors were always employed in this service. In Turkey they do not attend so much to the richness as to the number of the dresses, giving more or fewer according to the dignity of the persons to whom they are presented, or the marks of favour the prince would confer on his guests.

“The cedars wave on Lebanon,But Judah’s statelier maids are gone.”Byron.

“The cedars wave on Lebanon,But Judah’s statelier maids are gone.”Byron.

Gorgeous and magnificent must have been the spectacle presented by that ancient multitude of Israel, as they tabernacled in the wilderness of Sinai. These steril solitudes are now seldom trodden by the foot of man, and the adventurous traveller who toils up their rugged steeps can scarce picture to himself a host sojourning there, so wild, so barren is the place, so fearful are the precipices, so dismal the ravines. On the spot where “Moses talked with God” the grey and mouldering remnants of a convent attest the religious veneration and zeal of some of whom these ruins are the only memorial; and near them is a small chapel dedicated to the Virgin, while religious hands have crowned even the summit of the steep ascent by “a house of prayer;” and at the foot of the sister peak, Horeb, is an ancient Greek convent, founded by the Emperor Justinian 1400 years ago, which is occupied still by some harmless recluses, the monotony of whose lives is only broken by the few and farbetween visits of the adventurous traveller, or the more frequent and startling interruptions of the wild Arabs on their predatory expeditions.

But neither church nor temple of any sort, nor inquiring traveller, nor prowling Arab, varied the tremendous grandeur of the scene, when the Israelitish host encamped there. Weary and toilsome had been the pilgrimage from the base of the mountain where the desolation was unrelieved by a trace of vegetation, to the upper country or wilderness, called more particularly, “the Desert of Sinai,” where narrow intersecting valleys, not destitute of verdure, cherished perhaps the lofty and refreshing palm. Here in the ravines, in the valleys, and amid the clefts of the rocks, clustered the hosts of Israel, while around them on every side arose lofty summits and towering precipices, where the eye that sought to scan their fearful heights was lost in the far-off dimness. Far, far around, spread this savage wilderness, so frowning, and dreary, and desolate, that any curious explorer beyond the precincts of the camp would quickly return to thehomewhich its vicinity afforded even there.

Clustered closely as bees in a hive were the tents of the wandering race, yet with an order and a uniformity which even the unpropitious nature of the locality was not permitted to break; for, separated into tribes, each one, though sufficiently connected for any object of kindness or brotherhood, for public worship, or social intercourse, was inalienably distinct.

And in the midst, extending from east to west, a length of fifty-five feet, was reared the splendidTabernacle. For God had said, “Let them make me a Sanctuary, that I may dwell among them;” and behold, “they came, both men and women, as many as were willing-hearted, and brought bracelets, and earrings, and rings, and tablets, all jewels of gold; and every man that offered, offered an offering of gold unto the Lord. And every man with whom was found blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine linen, and goats’ hair, and red skins of rams, and badgers’ skins, brought them. Every one that did offer an offering of silver and brass brought the Lord’s offering: and every man with whom was found shittim-wood for any work of the service brought it. And all the women that were wise-hearted did spin with their hands, and brought that which they had spun, both of blue, and of purple, and of scarlet, and of fine linen. And all the women whose hearts stirred them up in wisdom spun goats’ hair. And the rulers brought onyx-stones, and stones to be set, for the ephod, and for the breastplate; and spice, and oil for the light, and for the anointing oil, and for the sweet incense.”

And all these materials, which the “willing-hearted” offered in such abundance that proclamation was obliged to be made through the camp to stop their influx, had been wrought under the superintendence of Bezaleel and Aholiab, who were divinely inspired for the task; and the Tabernacle was now completed, with the exception of some of the finest needlework, which had not yet received the finishing touches.

But what was already done bore ample testimonyto the skill, the taste, and the industry of the “wise-hearted” daughters of Israel. The outer covering of the Tabernacle, or that which lay directly over the framework of boards of which it was constructed, and hung from the roof down the sides and west end, was formed of tabash skins; over this was another covering of ram-skins dyed red; a hanging made of goats’ hair, such as is still used in the tents of the Bedouin Arabs, had been spun and woven by the matrons of the congregation, to hang over the skins; and these substantial draperies were beautifully concealed by a first or inner covering of fine linen. On this the more youthful women had embroidered figures of cherubim in scarlet, purple, and light blue, entwined with gold. They had made also sacerdotal vestments, the “coats of fine linen” worn by all the priests, which, when old, were unravelled, and made into wicks burnt in the feast of tabernacles. They had made the “girdles of needlework,” which were long, very long pieces of fine twined linen (carried several times round the body), and were embroidered with flowers in blue, and purple, and scarlet: the “robe of the ephod” also for the high priest, of light blue, and elaborately wrought round the bottom in pomegranates; and the plain ephods for the priests.

But now the sun was declining in the western sky, and the busy artificers of all sorts were relaxing from the toil of the day.

In a retired spot, apart from the noise of the camp, paced one in solitary meditation. Stalwart he was in frame, majestic in bearing; he trod the earth like one of her princes; but the loftiness of hisdemeanour was forgotten when you looked on the surpassing benignity of his countenance. Each accidental passer hushed his footstep and lowered his voice as he approached; more, as it should seem, from involuntary awe and reverence than from any understood prohibition.

But with some of these loiterers a child of some four or five summers, in earnest chase after a brilliant fly, whose golden wings glittered in the sunlight, heedlessly pursued it even to the very path of the Solitary, and to the interruption of his walk. Hastily, and somewhat peremptorily, the father calls him away. The stranger looks up, and casting a glance around, from an eye to whose brilliance that of the eagle would look dim, he for the first time sees the little intruder. Gently placing a hand on the child’s head, “Bless thee,” he said, in a voice whose every tone was melody: “Bless thee, little one; the blessing of the God of Israel be upon thee,” and calmly resumed his walk. The child, as if awed, mutely returned to his friends, who, after casting a glance of reverence and admiration, returned to the camp.

Here, scattered all around, are groups occupied in those varied kinds of busy idleness which will naturally engage the moments of an intelligent multitude at the close of an active day. Here a knot of men in the pride of manhood, whose flashing eyes have lost none of their fire, whose raven locks are yet not varied by a single silver line, are talking politics—such politics as the warlike men of Israel would talk, when discoursing of the promised land and the hostile hosts through whose serried ranks they mustcut their intrepid way thither, and whom, impatient of all delay, they burn to engage. Here were elder ones, “whose natural force” was in some degree “abated,” and who were lamenting the decree, however justly incurred, which forbade them to lay their bones in the land of their lifelong hope; and here was a patriarch, bowed down with the weight of years, whose silver hairs lay on his shoulders, whose snow-white beard flowed upon his breast, who as he leaned upon his staff was recounting to his rapt auditors the dealing of Jehovah with his people in ancient days; how the Most High visited his father Abraham, and had sworn unto Jacob that his seed should be brought out of captivity, and revisit the promised land. “And behold,” said the old man, “it will now come to pass.”

But what is passing in that detached portion of the camp? who sojourn in yonder tents which attract more general attention than all the others, and in which all ages and degrees seem interested? Now a group of females are there, eagerly conversing; anon a Hebrew mother leads her youthful and beautiful daughter, and seems to incite her to remain there; now a hoary priest enters, and in a few moments returns pondering; and anon a trio of more youthful Levites with pleased and animated countenances return from the same spot.

On a sudden is every eye turned thitherward; for he who just now paced the solitary glade—none other than the chosen leader of God’s host, the majestic lawgiver, the meekest and the mightiest of all created beings—he likewise wends his way to these attractive tents. With him enters Aaron, a venerableman, with hoary beard and flowing white robes; and follow him a majestic-looking female who was wont to lead the solemn dance—Miriam the sister of Aaron; and a youth of heroic bearing, in the springtime of that life whose maturity was spent in leading the chosen race to conquest in the promised land.

With proud and pleased humility did the fair inmates of those tents, the most accomplished of Israel’s daughters, display to their illustrious visitors the “fine needlework” to which their time and talents had been for a long season devoted, and which was now on the eve of completion. The “holy garments” which God had commanded to be made “for glory and for beauty;” the pomegranates on the hem of the high priest’s robe, wrought in blue and purple and scarlet; the flowers on his “girdle of needlework,” glowing as in life; the border on the ephod, in which every varied colour was shaded off into a rich and delicate tracery of gold; and above all, that exquisite work, the most beautiful of all their productions—the veil which separated the “Holy of Holies,” the place where the Most High vouchsafed his especial presence, where none but the high priest might presume to enter, and he but once a year, from the remaining portions of the Tabernacle. This beautiful hanging was of fine white linen, but the original fabric was hardly discernible amid the gorgeous tracery with which it was inwrought. The whole surface was covered with a profusion of flowers, intermixed with fanciful devices of every sort, except such as might represent the forms of animals—these were rigidly excluded. Cherubims seemed to be hovering around and grasping its gorgeous folds;and if tradition and history be to be credited, this drapery merited, if ever the production of the needle did merit, the epithet which English talent has since rendered classical, “Needlework Sublime.”

Long, despite the advancing shades of evening, would the visitors have lingered untired to comment upon this beautiful production, but one said, “Behold!” and immediately all, following the direction of his outstretched arm, looked towards the Tabernacle. There a thin spiral flame is seen to gleam palely through the pillar of smoke; but perceptibly it increases, and even while the eye is fixed it waxes stronger and brighter, and quickly though gradually the smoke has melted away, and a tall vivid flame of fire is in its place. Higher and taller it aspires: its spiral flame waxes broader and broader, ascends higher and higher, gleams brighter and brighter, till it mingles in the very vault of heaven, with the beams of the setting sun which bathe in crimson fire the summits of Sinai.

In the eastern sky the stars gleam brightly in the pure transparent atmosphere; and ere long the moon casts pale radiant beams adown the dark ravines, and utters her wondrous lore to the silent hills and the gloomy waste. The sounds of toil are hushed; the weary labourer seeks repose; the toil-worn wanderer is at rest: the murmuring sounds of domestic life sink lower and lower; the breath of prayer becomes fainter and fainter; the voice of praise, the evensong of Israel, comes stealing through the calm of evening, and now dies softly away. Nought is heard but the password of the sentinels; the far-off shriek of the bat as it flaps itswings beneath the shadow of some fearful precipice; or the scream of the eagle, which, wheeling round the lofty summits of the mountain, closes in less and lesser circles, till, as the last faint gleam of evening is lost in the dark horizon, it drops into its eyrie.

The moon and the stars keep their eternal watch; the beacon-light of God’s immediate presence flames unchanged by time or chance. It may be that the appointed earthly shepherd of that chosen flock passes the still hours of night and solitude in communion with his God; but silence is over the wilderness, and the children of Israel are at rest.

“How is thy glory, Egypt, pass’d away!Weep, child of ruin, o’er thy humbled name!The wreck alone that marks thy deep decayNow tells the story of thy former fame!”

“How is thy glory, Egypt, pass’d away!Weep, child of ruin, o’er thy humbled name!The wreck alone that marks thy deep decayNow tells the story of thy former fame!”

There can be little doubt that the Jewish maidens were beholden to their residence in Egypt for that perfectness of finish in embroidery which was displayed so worthily in the service of the Tabernacle. Egypt was at this time the seat of science, of art, and learning; for it was thought the highest summary which could be given of Moses’ acquirements to say that he was skilled in all the learning of the Egyptians. By the researches of the curious, new proofs are still being brought to light of the perfection of their skill in various arts, and we are not without testimony that the practice of the lighter and more ornamental bore progress with that of the stupendous and magnificent. Of these lighter pursuits we at present refer only to the art of needlework.

The Egyptian women were treated with courtesy, with honour, and even with deference: indeed, some historians have gone so far as to say that the womentransacted public business, to the exclusion of the men, who were engaged in domestic occupations. This misapprehension may have arisen from the fact of men being at times engaged at the loom, which in all other countries was then considered as exclusively a feminine occupation; spinning, however, was principally, if not entirely, confined to women, who had attained to such perfection in the pretty and valuable art, that, though the Egyptian yarn was all spun by the hand, some of the linen made from it was so exquisitely fine as to be called “woven air.” And there are some instances recorded by historians which seem fully to bear out the appellation. For example: so delicate were the threads used for nets, that some of these nets would pass through a man’s ring, and one person could carry a sufficient number of them to surround a whole wood. Amasis king of Egypt presented a linen corslet to the Rhodians of which the threads were each composed of 365 fibres; and he presented another to the Lacedemonians, richly wrought with gold; and each thread of this corslet, though itself very fine, was composed of 360 other threads all distinct.

Nor did these beautiful manufactures lack the addition of equally beautiful needlework. Though the gold thread used at this time was, as we have intimated, solid metal, still the Egyptians had attained to such perfection in the art of moulding it, that it was fine enough not merely to embroider, but even to interweave with the linen. The linen corslet of Amasis, presented, as we have remarked, to the Lacedemonians, surpassingly fine as was the material, was worked with a needle in figures of animalsin gold thread, and from the description given of the texture of the linen we may form some idea of the exquisite tenuity of the gold wire which was used to ornament it.

Corslets of linen of a somewhat stronger texture than this one, which was doubtless meant for merely ornamental wear, were not uncommon amongst the ancients. The Greeks made thoraces of hide, hemp, linen, or twisted cord. Of the latter there are some curious specimens in the interesting museum of the United Service Club. Alexander had a double thorax of linen; and Iphicrates ordered his soldiers to lay aside their heavy metal cuirass, and go to battle in hempen armour. And among the arms painted in the tomb of Rameses III. at Thebes is a piece of defensive armour, a sort of coat or covering for the body, made of rich stuff, and richly embroidered with the figures of lions and other animals.

The dress of the Egyptian ladies of rank was rich and somewhat gay: in its general appearance not very dissimilar from the gay chintzes of the present day, but of more value as the material was usually linen; and though sometimes stamped in patterns, and sometimes interwoven with gold threads, was much more usually worked with the needle. The richest and most elegant of these were of course selected to adorn the person of the queen; and when in the holy book the royal Psalmist is describing the dress of a bride, supposed to have been Pharaoh’s daughter, and that she shall be brought to the king “in raiment of needlework,” he says, as proof of the gorgeousness of her attire, “her clothing is of wrought gold.” This is supposed to mean a garment richlyembroidered with the needle in figures in gold thread, after the manner of Egyptian stitchery.

Perhaps no royal lady was ever more magnificently dowered than the queen of Egypt; her apparel might well be gorgeous. Diodorus says that when Mœris, from whom the lake derived its name, and who was supposed to have made the canal, had arranged the sluices for the introduction of the water, and established everything connected with it, he assigned the sum annually derived from this source as a dowry to the queen for the purchase of jewels, ointments, and other objects connected with the toilette. The provision was certainly very liberal, being a talent every day, or upwards of £70,700 a year; and when this formed only a portion of the pin-money of the Egyptian queens, to whom the revenues of the city of Anthylla, famous for its wines, were given for their dress, it is certain they had no reason to complain of the allowance they enjoyed.

The Egyptian needlewomen were not solely occupied in the decoration of their persons. The deities were robed in rich vestments, in the preparation of which the proudest in the land felt that they were worthily occupied. This was a source of great gain to the priests, both in this and other countries, as, after decorating the idol gods for a time, these rich offerings were their perquisites, who of course encouraged this notable sort of devotion. We are told that it was carried so far that some idols had both winter and summer garments.

Tokens of friendship consisting of richly embroidered veils, handkerchiefs, &c., were then, as now,passing from one fair hand to another, as pledges of affection; and as the last holy office of love, the bereaved mother, the desolate widow, or the maiden whose budding hopes were blighted by her lover’s untimely death, might find a fanciful relief to her sorrows by decorating the garment which was to enshroud the spiritless but undecaying form. The chief proportion of the mummy-cloths which have been so ruthlessly torn from these outraged relics of humanity are coarse; but some few have been found delicately and beautifully embroidered; and it is not unnatural to suppose that this difference was the result of feminine solicitude and undying affection.

The embroidering of the sails of vessels too was pursued as an article of commerce, as well as for the decoration of native pleasure-boats. The ordinary sails were white; but the king and his grandees on all gala occasions made use of sails richly embroidered with the phœnix, with flowers, and various other emblems and fanciful devices. Many also were painted, and some interwoven in checks and stripes. The boats used in sacred festivals upon the Nile were decorated with appropriate symbols, according to the nature of the ceremony or the deity in whose service they were engaged; and the edges of the sails were finished with a coloured hem or border, which would occasionally be variegated with slight embroidery.

Shakspeare’s description of the barge of Cleopatra when she embarked on the river Cydnus to meet Antony, poetical as it is, seems to be rigidly correct in detail.

Enobarbus.—I will tell you.The barge she sat in, like a burnish’d throne,Burn’d on the water: the poop was beaten gold;Purple the sails, and so perfumed, thatThe winds were love-sick with them: the oars were silver;Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and madeThe water, which they beat, to follow faster,As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,It beggar’d all description: she did lieIn her pavilion (cloth of gold, of tissue),O’erpicturing that Venus, where we seeThe fancy outwork nature; on each side herStood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,With diverse-colour’d fans, whose wind did seemTo glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,And what they undid, did.Agrippa.—O, rare for Antony!Enobarbus.—Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides,So many mermaids, tended her i’ the eyes,And made their bends adornings; at the helmA seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackleSwell with the touches of those flower-soft hands,That yarely frame the office. From the bargeA strange invisible perfume hits the senseOf the adjacent wharfs. The city castHer people out upon her; and Antony,Bethroned in the market-place, did sit alone,Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,And made a gap in nature.

Enobarbus.—I will tell you.The barge she sat in, like a burnish’d throne,Burn’d on the water: the poop was beaten gold;Purple the sails, and so perfumed, thatThe winds were love-sick with them: the oars were silver;Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and madeThe water, which they beat, to follow faster,As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,It beggar’d all description: she did lieIn her pavilion (cloth of gold, of tissue),O’erpicturing that Venus, where we seeThe fancy outwork nature; on each side herStood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,With diverse-colour’d fans, whose wind did seemTo glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,And what they undid, did.

Agrippa.—O, rare for Antony!

Enobarbus.—Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides,So many mermaids, tended her i’ the eyes,And made their bends adornings; at the helmA seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackleSwell with the touches of those flower-soft hands,That yarely frame the office. From the bargeA strange invisible perfume hits the senseOf the adjacent wharfs. The city castHer people out upon her; and Antony,Bethroned in the market-place, did sit alone,Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,And made a gap in nature.

It is said that the silver oars, “which to the tune of flutes kept stroke,” were pierced with holes of different sizes, so mechanically contrived, that the water, as it flowed through them at every stroke, produced a harmony in concord with that of the flutes and lyres on board.

Such a description as the foregoing gives a more vivid idea than any grave declaration, of the elegant luxury of the Egyptians.

It were easy to collect instances from the Bible in which mention is made of Egyptian embroidery, but one verse (Ezek. xxvii. 7), when the prophet is addressing the Tyrians, specifically points to the subject on which we are speaking: “Fine linen, with broidered work from Egypt, was that which thou spreadest forth to be thy sail,” &c.

A common but beautiful style of embroidery was to draw out entirely the threads of linen which formed the weft, and to re-form the body of the material, and vary its appearance, by working in various stitches and with different colours on the warp alone.

Chairs and fauteuils of the most elegant form, made of ebony and other rare woods, inlaid with ivory, were in common use amongst the ancient Egyptians. These were covered, as is the fashion in the present day, with every variety of rich stuff, stamped leather, &c.: but many were likewise embroidered with different coloured wools, with silk and gold thread. The couches too, which in the daytime had a rich covering substituted for the night bedding, gave ample scope for the display of the inventive genius and persevering industry of the busy-fingered Egyptian ladies.

We have given sufficient proof that the Egyptian females were accomplished in the art of needlework, and we may naturally infer that they were fond of it. It is a gentle and a social occupation, and usefully employs the time, whilst it does not interfere with the current of the thoughts or the flow of conversation. The Egyptians were an intelligent and an animated race; and the sprightly jest orthe lively sally would be interspersed with the graver details of thoughtful and reflective conversation, or would give some point to the dull routine of mere womanish chatter. It seems almost impossible to have lived amidst the stupendous magnificence of Egypt in days of yore, without the mind assimilating itself in some degree to the greatness with which it was surrounded. The vast deserts, the stupendous mountains, the river Nile—the single and solitary river which in itself sufficed the needs of a mighty empire—these majestic monuments of nature seemed as emblems to which the people should fashion, as they did fashion, their pyramids, their tombs, their sphynxes, their mighty reservoirs, and their colossal statues. And we can hardly suppose that such ever-visible objects should not, during the time of their creation, have some elevating influence on the weakest mind; and that therefore frivolity of conversation amongst the Egyptian ladies was rather the exception than the rule. But a modern author has amused himself, and exercised some ingenuity in attempting to prove the contrary:—

“Many similar instances of a talent for caricature are observable in the compositions of Egyptian artists who executed the paintings on the tombs; and the ladies are not spared. We are led to infer that they were not deficient in the talent of conversation; and the numerous subjects they proposed are shown to have been examined with great animation. Among these the question of dress was not forgotten, and the patterns or the value of trinkets were discussed with proportionate interest. Themaker of an earring, or the shop where it was purchased, were anxiously inquired; each compared the workmanship, the style, and the materials of those she wore, coveted her neighbour’s, or preferred her own; and women of every class vied with each other in the display of ‘jewels of silver and jewels of gold,’ in the texture of their ‘raiment,’ the neatness of their sandals, and the arrangement or beauty of their plaited hair.”

We are too much indebted to this author’s interesting volumes to quarrel with him for his ungallant exposition of a very simple painting; but we beg to place in juxta-position with the above (though otherwise somewhat out of its place) an extract from a work by no means characterised by unnecessary complacency to the fair sex.

“‘Cet homme passe sa vie à forger des nouvelles,’ me dit alors un gros Athénien qui était assis auprès de moi. ‘Il ne s’occupe que de choses qui ne le touchent point. Pour moi, mon intérieur me suffit. J’ai une femme que j’aime beaucoup;’ et il me fit l’éloge de sa femme. ‘Hier je ne pus pas souper avec elle, j’étais prié chez un de mes amis;’ et il me fit la description du repas. ‘Je me retirai chez moi assez content. Mais j’ai fait cette nuit un rêve qui m’inquiète;’ et il me raconta son rêve. Ensuite il me dit pesamment que la ville fourmillait d’étrangers; que les hommes d’aujourd’hui ne valaient pas ceux d’autrefois; que les denrées étaient à bas prix; qu’on pourrait espérer une bonne récolte, s’il venait à pleuvoir. Après m’avoir demandé le quantième du mois, il se leva pour aller souper avec sa femme.”

“———SupremeSits the virtuous housewife,The tender mother—O’er the circle presiding,And prudently guiding;The girls gravely schooling,The boys wisely ruling;Her hands never ceasingFrom labours increasing;And doubling his gainsWith her orderly pains.With piles of rich treasure the storehouse she spreads,And winds round the loud-whirring spindle her threads:She winds—till the bright-polish’d presses are fullOf the snow-white linen and glittering wool:Blends the brilliant and solid in constant endeavour,And resteth never.”J. H. Merivale.

“———SupremeSits the virtuous housewife,The tender mother—O’er the circle presiding,And prudently guiding;The girls gravely schooling,The boys wisely ruling;Her hands never ceasingFrom labours increasing;And doubling his gainsWith her orderly pains.With piles of rich treasure the storehouse she spreads,And winds round the loud-whirring spindle her threads:She winds—till the bright-polish’d presses are fullOf the snow-white linen and glittering wool:Blends the brilliant and solid in constant endeavour,And resteth never.”J. H. Merivale.

It was an admitted opinion amongst the classical nations of antiquity, that no less a personage than Minerva herself, “a maiden affecting old fashions and formality,” visited earth to teach her favourite nation the mysteries of those implements which are called “the arms of every virtuous woman;” viz. the distaff and spindle. In the use of these the Grecian dames were particularly skilled; in fact,spinning, weaving, needlework, and embroidery, formed the chief occupation of those whose rank exonerated them, even in more primitive days, from the menial drudgery of a household.

The Greek females led exceedingly retired lives, being far more charily admitted to a share of the recreations of the nobler sex than we of these privileged days. The ancient Greeks were very magnificent—very: magnificent senators, magnificent warriors, magnificent men; but they were a people trained from the cradle for exhibition and publicity; domestic life was quite cast into the shade. Consequently and necessarily their women were thrown to greater distance, till it happened, naturally enough, that they seemed to form a distinct community; and apartments the most distant and secluded that the mansion afforded were usually assigned to them. Of these, in large establishments, certain ones were always appropriated to the labours of the needle.

“Je ne dirai” (says the sarcastic author of Anacharsis) “qu’un mot sur l’éducation des filles. Suivant la différence des états, elles apprennent à lire, écrire, coudre, filer, préparer la laine dont on fait les vêtemens, et veiller aux soins du ménage. En général, les mères exhortent leurs filles à se conduire avec sagesse; mais elles insistent beaucoup plus sur la nécessité de se tenir droites, d’effacer leurs épaules, de serrer leur sein avec un large ruban, d’être extrêmement sobres, et de prévenir, par toutes sortes de moyens, un embonpoint qui nuirait à l’élégance de la taille et à la grâce des mouvemens.”

Homer, the great fountain of ancient lore, scarcelythroughout his whole work names a female, Greek or Trojan, but as connected naturally and indissolubly with this feminine occupation—needlework. Thus, when Chryses implores permission to ransome his daughter, Agamemnon wrathfully replies—

“I will not loose thy daughter, till old ageFind her far distant from her native soil,Beneath my roof in Argos, at her taskOf tissue-work.”

“I will not loose thy daughter, till old ageFind her far distant from her native soil,Beneath my roof in Argos, at her taskOf tissue-work.”

And Iris, the “ambassadress of Heaven,” finds Helen in her own recess—

“——weaving there a gorgeous web,Inwrought with fiery conflicts, for her sakeWag’d by contending nations.”

“——weaving there a gorgeous web,Inwrought with fiery conflicts, for her sakeWag’d by contending nations.”

Hector foreseeing the miseries consequent upon the destruction of Troy, says to Andromache—

“But no griefSo moves me as my grief for thee alone,Doom’d then to follow some imperious Greek,A weeping captive, to the distant shoresOf Argos; there to labour at the loomFor a taskmistress.”

“But no griefSo moves me as my grief for thee alone,Doom’d then to follow some imperious Greek,A weeping captive, to the distant shoresOf Argos; there to labour at the loomFor a taskmistress.”

And again he says to her—

“Hence, then, to our abode; there weave or spin,And task thy maidens.”

“Hence, then, to our abode; there weave or spin,And task thy maidens.”

And afterwards—

“Andromache, the while,Knew nought, nor even by report had learn’dHer Hector’s absence in the field alone.She in her chamber at the palace-topA splendid texture wrought, on either sideAll dazzling bright with flow’rs of various hues.”

“Andromache, the while,Knew nought, nor even by report had learn’dHer Hector’s absence in the field alone.She in her chamber at the palace-topA splendid texture wrought, on either sideAll dazzling bright with flow’rs of various hues.”

Though “Penelope’s web” is become a proverb, it would be unpardonable here to omit specific mention of it. Antinoüs thus complains of her:—

“Elusive of the bridal day, she givesFond hope to all, and all with hope deceives.Did not the Sun, through heaven’s wide azure roll’d,For three long years the royal fraud behold?While she, laborious in delusion, spreadThe spacious loom, and mix’d the various thread;Where, as to life the wondrous figures rise,Thus spoke th’ inventive queen with artful sighs:—‘Though cold in death Ulysses breathes no more,Cease yet a while to urge the bridal hour;Cease, till to great Laertes I bequeathA task of grief, his ornaments of death.Lest, when the Fates his royal ashes claim,The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame:When he, whom living mighty realms obey’d,Shall want in death a shroud to grace his shade.’Thus she: At once the generous train complies,Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue’s fair disguise.The work she plied; but, studious of delay,By night revers’d the labours of the day.While thrice the Sun his annual journey made,The conscious lamp the midnight fraud survey’d;Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail;The fourth, her maid unfolds th’ amazing tale.We saw, as unperceiv’d we took our stand,The backward labours of her faithless hand.Then urg’d, she perfects her illustrious toils;A wondrous monument of female wiles.”

“Elusive of the bridal day, she givesFond hope to all, and all with hope deceives.Did not the Sun, through heaven’s wide azure roll’d,For three long years the royal fraud behold?While she, laborious in delusion, spreadThe spacious loom, and mix’d the various thread;Where, as to life the wondrous figures rise,Thus spoke th’ inventive queen with artful sighs:—‘Though cold in death Ulysses breathes no more,Cease yet a while to urge the bridal hour;Cease, till to great Laertes I bequeathA task of grief, his ornaments of death.Lest, when the Fates his royal ashes claim,The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame:When he, whom living mighty realms obey’d,Shall want in death a shroud to grace his shade.’Thus she: At once the generous train complies,Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue’s fair disguise.The work she plied; but, studious of delay,By night revers’d the labours of the day.While thrice the Sun his annual journey made,The conscious lamp the midnight fraud survey’d;Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail;The fourth, her maid unfolds th’ amazing tale.We saw, as unperceiv’d we took our stand,The backward labours of her faithless hand.Then urg’d, she perfects her illustrious toils;A wondrous monument of female wiles.”

The Greek costume was rich and elegant; and though, from our familiarity with colourless statues, we are apt to suppose it gravely uniform in its hue, such was not the fact; for the tunic was often adorned with ornamental embroidery of all sorts. The toga was the characteristic of Roman costume: this gradually assumed variations from its primitivesimplicity of hue, until at length the triumphant general considered even the royal purple too unpretending, unless set off by a rich embroidery of gold. The first embroideries of the Romans were but bands of stuff, cut or twisted, which they put on the dresses: the more modest used only one band; others two, three, four, up to seven; and from the number of these the dresses took their names, always drawn from the Greek: molores, dilores, trilores, tetralores, &c.

Pliny seems to be the authority whence most writers derive their accounts of ancient garments and needlework.

“The coarse rough wool with the round great haire hath been of ancient time highly commended and accounted of in tapestrie worke: for even Homer himself witnesseth that they of the old world used the same much, and tooke great delight therein. But this tapestrie is set out with colours in France after one sort, and among the Parthians after another. M. Varro writeth that within the temple of Sangus there continued unto the time that he wrote his booke the wooll that lady Tanaquil, otherwise named Caia Cecilia, spun; together with her distaff and spindle: as also within the chapel of Fortune, the very roiall robe or mantle of estate, made in her own hands after the manner of water chamlot in wave worke, which Servius Tullius used to weare. And from hence came the fashion and custome at Rome, that when maidens were to be wedded, there attended upon them a distaffe, dressed and trimmed with kombed wooll, as also a spindle and yearne upon it. The said Tanaquil was thefirst that made the coat or cassocke woven right out all through; such as new beginners (namely young souldiers, barristers, and fresh brides) put on under their white plaine gowns, without any guard of purple. The waved water chamelot was from the beginning esteemed the richest and bravest wearing. And from thence came the branched damaske in broad workes. Fenestella writeth that in the latter time of Augustus Cæsar they began at Rome to use their gownes of cloth shorne, as also with a curled nap.—As for those robes which are called crebræ and papaveratæ, wrought thicke with floure worke, resembling poppies, or pressed even and smooth, they be of greater antiquitie: for even in the time of Lucilius the poet Torquatus was noted and reproved for wearing them. The long robes embrodered before, called prætextæ, were devised first by the Tuscanes. The Trabeæ were roiall robes, and I find that kings and princes only ware them. In Homer’s time also they used garments embrodered with imagerie and floure, work, and from thence came the triumphant robes. As for embroderie itselfe and needle-worke, it was the Phrygians invention: and hereupon embroderers in Latine bee called phrygiones. And in the same Asia king Attalus was the first that devised cloth of gold: and thence come such colours to be called Attalica. In Babylon they used much to weave their cloth of divers colours, and this was a great wearing amongst them, and cloths so wrought were called Babylonica. To weave cloth of tissue with twisted threeds both in woofe and warpe, and the same of sundrie colours, was the invention of Alexandria;and such clothes and garments were called Polymita, But Fraunce devised the scutchion, square, or lozenge damaske worke. Metellus Scipio, among other challenges and imputations laid against Capito, reproached and accused him for this:—‘That his hangings and furniture of his dining chamber, being Babylonian work or cloth of Arras, were sold for 800,000 sesterces; and such like of late days stood Prince Nero in 400,000 sesterces,i.e.forty millions.’ The embrodered long robes of Servius Tullius, wherewith he covered and arraied all over the image of Fortune, by him dedicated, remained whole and sound until the end of Sejanus. And a wonder it was that they neither fell from the image nor were motheaten in 560 yeares.”[5]

It was long before silk was in general use, even for patrician garments. It has been supposed that the famous Median vest, invented by Semiramis, was silken, which might account for its great fame in the west. Be this as it may, it was so very graceful, that the Medes adopted it after they had conquered Asia; and the Persians followed their example. In the time of the Romans the price of silk was weight for weight with gold, and the first persons who brought silk into Europe were the Greeks of Alexander’s army. Under Tiberius it was forbidden to be worn by men; and it is said that the Emperor Aurelian even refused the earnest request of his empress for a silken dress, on the plea of its extravagant cost. Heliogabalus was the first man that ever wore a robe entirely of silk. He had also a tunic woven of gold threads; suchgold thread as we referred to in a prior chapter, as consisting of the metal alone beaten out and rounded, without any intermixture of silk or woollen. Tarquinius Priscus had also a vest of this gorgeous description, as had likewise Agrippina. Gold thread and wire continued to be made entirely of metal probably until the time of Aurelian, nor have there been any instances found in Herculaneum and Pompeii of the silken thread with a gold coating.

These examples will suffice to show that it was not usually thematerialof the ancient garments which gave them so high a value, but the ornamental embellishments with which they were afterwards invested by the needle.

The Medes and Babylonians seem to have been most highly celebrated for their stuffs and tapestries of various sorts which were figured by the needle; the Egyptians certainly rivalled, though they did not surpass them; and the Greeks seem also to have attained a high degree of excellence in this pretty art. The epoch of embroidery amongst the Romans went as far back as Tarquin, to whom the Etruscans presented a tunic of purple enriched with gold, and a mantle of purple and other colours, “tels qu’en portoient les rois de Perse et de Lydie.” But soon luxury banished the wonted austerity of Rome; and when Cæsar first showed himself in a habit embroidered and fringed, this innovation appeared scandalous to those who had not been alarmed at any of his real and important innovations.

We have referred in a former chapter to thepractice of sending garments as presents, as marks of respect and friendship, or as propitiatory or deprecatory offerings. And the illustrious ladies of the classical times had such a prophetical talent of preparation, that they were ever found possessed, when occasion required, of store of garments richly embroidered by their own fair fingers, or under their auspices. Of this there are numerous examples in Homer.

When Priam wishes to redeem the body of Hector, after preparing other propitiatory gifts,


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