CHAPTER XXV.

Modern Needlework 395

THE ART

OF

NEEDLEWORK.

INTRODUCTION.

CHAPTER I.

"Le donne son venute in eccellenza

Di ciascun'arte, ove hanno posto cura;

E qualunque all'istorie abbia avvertenza,

Ne sente ancor la fama non oscura.

* * * * *

E forse ascosi han lor debiti onori

L'invidia, o il non saper degli scrittori."

Ariosto.

In all ages woman may lament the ungallant silence of the historian.

His pen is the record of sterner actions than are usually the vocation

of the gentler sex, and it is only when fair individuals have been by

extraneous circumstances thrown out, as it were, on the canvas of

human affairs--when they have been forced into a publicity little

consistent with their natural sphere--that they have become his theme.

Consequently those domestic virtues which are woman's greatest pride,

those retiring characteristics which are her most becoming ornament,

those gentle occupations which are her best employment, find no record

on pages whose chief aim and end is the blazoning of manly heroism, of

royal disputations, or of trumpet-stirring records. And if this is the

case even with historians of enlightened times, who have the gallantry

to allow woman to be a component part of creation, we can hardly

wonder that in darker days she should be utterly and entirely

overlooked.

Mohammed asserted that women had no souls; and moreover, that, setting

aside the "diviner part," there had only existed _four_ of whom the

mundane qualifications entitled them to any degree of approbation.

Before him, Aristotle had asserted that Nature only formed women when

and because she found that the imperfection of matter did not permit

her to carry on the world without them.

This complimentary doctrine has not wanted supporters. "Des hommes

tres sages ont ecrit que la Nature, dont l'intention et le dessein est

toujours de tendre a la perfection, ne produirait s'il etait possible,

jamais que des hommes, et que quand il nait une femme c'est un monstre

dans l'ordre de ses productions, ne expressement contre sa volonte:

ils ajoutent, que, comme on voit naitre un homme aveugle, boiteux, ou

avec quelqu'autre defaut nature; et comme on voit a certains arbres

des fruits qui ne murissent jamais; ainsi l'on peut dire que la femme

est un animal produit par accident et par le hasard."[1]

Without touching upon this extreme assertion that woman is but "un

monstre," an animal produced by chance, we may observe briefly, that

women have ever, with some few exceptions,[2] been considered as a

degraded and humiliated race, until the promulgation of the Christian

religion elevated them in society: and that this distinction still

exists is evident from the difference at this moment exhibited between

the countries professing Mohammedanism and those professing

Christianity.

Still, though in our happy country it is now pretty generally allowed

that women are "des creatures humaines," it is no new remark that they

are comparatively lightly thought of by the "nobler" gender. This is

absolutely the case even in those countries where civilization and

refinement have elevated the sex to a higher grade in society than

they ever before reached. Women are courted, flattered, caressed,

extolled; but still the difference is there, and the "lords of the

creation" take care that it shall be understood. Their own

pursuits--public, are the theme of the historian--private, of the

biographer; nay, the every-day circumstances of life--their

dinners--their speeches--their toasts--and their _post coenam_

eloquence, are noted down for immortality: whilst a woman with as much

sense, with more eloquence, with lofty principles, enthusiastic

feelings, and pure conduct--with sterling virtue to command respect,

and the self-denying conduct of a martyr--steals noiselessly through

her appointed path in life; and if she excite a passing comment during

her pilgrimage, is quickly lost in oblivion when that pilgrimage hath

reached its appointed goal.

And this is but as it should be. Woe to that nation whose women, as a

habit, as a custom, as a matter of course, seek to intrude on the

attributes of the other sex, and in a vain, a foolish, and surely a

most unsuccessful pursuit of publicity, or power, or fame, forget the

distinguishing, the high, the noble, the lofty, the pure and

_unearthly_ vocation of their sex. Every earthly charity, every

unearthly virtue, are the legitimate object of woman's pursuit. It is

hers to soothe pain, to alleviate suffering, to soften discord, to

solace the time-worn spirit on earth, to train the youthful one for

heaven. Such is woman's magnificent vocation; and in the peaceful

discharge of such duties as these she may be content to steal

noiselessly on to her appointed bourne, "the world forgetting, by the

world forgot."

But these splendid results are not the effect of great exertions--of

sudden, and uncertain, and enthusiastic efforts. They are the effect

of a course, of a system of minor actions and of occupations,

_individually_ insignificant in their appearance, and noiseless in

their approach. They are like "the gentle dew from heaven" in their

silent unnoted progress, and, like that, are known only by their

blessed results.

They involve a routine of minor duties which often appear, at first

view, little if at all connected with such mighty ends. But such an

inference would lead to a false conclusion. It is entirely of

insignificant details that the sum of human life is made up; and any

one of those details, how insignificant soever _apparently_ in itself,

as a link in the chain of human life is of _definite_ relative value.

The preparing of a spoonful of gruel may seem a very insignificant

matter; yet who that stands by the sick-bed of one near and dear to

him, and sees the fevered palate relieved, the exhausted frame

refreshed by it, but will bless the hand that made it? It is not the

independent intrinsic worth of each isolated action of woman which

stamps its value--it is their bearing and effect on the mass. It is

the daily and hourly accumulation of minute particles which form the

vast amount.

And if we look for that feminine employment which adds most absolutely

to the comforts and the elegancies of life, to what other shall we

refer than to NEEDLEWORK? The hemming of a pocket-handkerchief is a

trivial thing in itself, yet it is a branch of an art which furnishes

a useful, a graceful, and an agreeable occupation to one-half of the

human race, and adds very materially to the comforts of the other

half.

How sings our own especial Bard?--

"So long as garments shall be made or worne;

So long as hemp, or flax, or sheep shall bear

Their linnen wollen fleeces yeare by yeare;

So long as silkwormes, with exhausted spoile

Of their own entrailes, for mans gaine shall toyle:

Yea, till the world be quite dissolv'd and past,

So long, at least, the NEEDLE'S use shall last."

'Tis true, indeed, that as far as _necessity_, rigidly speaking, is

concerned, a very small portion of needlework would suffice; but it is

also true that the very signification of the word necessity is lost,

buried amidst the accumulations of ages. We talk habitually of _mere

necessaries_, but the fact is, that we have hardly an idea of what

merely necessities are.

St. Paul, the hermit, when abiding in the wilderness, might be reduced

to necessities; and in that noble and exalted instance of high

principle referred to by Mr. Wesley,[3] where a person unknown to

others, seeking no praise, and looking to no reward but the

applaudings of his own conscience, bought a pennyworth of parsnips

weekly, and on them, and them alone, with the water in which they were

boiled, lived, that he might save money to pay his debts.--Surely a

man of such incorruptible integrity as this would spend nothing

intentionally in superfluities of dress--and yet, mark how many he

would have. His shirt would be "curiously wrought," his neckcloth

neatly hemmed; his coat and waistcoat and trousers would have

undergone the usual mysteries of shaping and seaming; his hat would be

neatly bound round the edge; his stockings woven or knitted; his

shoes soled and stitched and tied; neither must we debar him a

pocket-handkerchief and a pair of gloves. And see what this man--as

great, nay, a greater anchoret in his way than St. Paul, for he had

the world and its temptations all around, while the saint had fled

from both--yet see what _he_ thought absolutely requisite in lieu of

the sheepskin which was St. Paul's wardrobe. See what was required "to

cover and keep warm" in the eighteenth century,--nay, not even to

"keep warm," for we did not allow either great-coat or comforter. See

then what was required merely to "cover," and then say whether the art

of needlework is a trivial one.

Could we, as in days of yore, when sylphs and fairies deigned to

mingle with mortals, and shed their gracious influence on the scenes

and actions of every-day life--could we, by some potent spell or by

some fitting oblation, propitiate the Genius of Needlework, induce her

to descend from her hidden shrine, and indulge her votaries with a

glimpse of her radiant SELF--what a host of varied reminiscences would

that glimpse conjure up in our minds, as--

"----guided by historic truth,

We _trod_ the long extent of backward time!"

SHE was twin born with necessity, the first necessity the world had

ever known, but she quickly left this stern and unattractive

companion, and followed many leaders in her wide and varied range. She

became the handmaiden of Fancy; she adorned the train of Magnificence;

she waited upon Pomp; she decorated Religion; she obeyed Charity; she

served Utility; she aided Pleasure; she pranked out Fun; and she

mingled with all and every circumstance of life.

Many changes and chances has it been her lot to behold. At one time

honoured and courted, she was the acknowledged and cherished guest of

the royal and noble. Then in gorgeous drapery, begemmed with

brilliants, bedropped with gold, she reigned supreme in hall and

palace; or in silken tissue girt she adorned the high-born maiden's

bower what time the "deeds of knighthood" were "in solemn canto" told.

In still more rich array, in kingly purple, in regal tissue, in royal

magnificence, she stood within the altar's sacred pale; and her robes,

rich in Tyrian dye, and glittering with Ophir's gold, swept the

hallowed pavement. When battle aroused the land she inspirited the

host. When the banner was unfurled she pointed to the device which

sent its message home to every heart; she displayed the cipher on the

hero's pennon which nerved him sooner to relinquish life than it; she

entwined those initials in the scarf, the sight of which struck fresh

ardour into his breast.

But she fell into disrepute, and was rejected from the halls of the

noble. Still was she ever busy, ever occupied, and not only were her

services freely given to all who required them, but given with such

winning grace that she required but to be once known to be ever

loved--so exquisitely did she adapt herself to the peculiarities of

all.

With flowing ringlets and silken robe, carolling gaily as she worked,

you would see her pinking the ruffles of the Cavalier, and ever and

anon adding to their piquancy by some new and dainty device: then you

would behold her with smoothly plaited hair, and sad-coloured garment

of serge, and looks like a November day, hemming the bands of a

Roundhead, and withal adding numerous layers of starch. With grave and

sedate aspect she would shape and sew the uncomely raiment of a

Genevan divine; with neat-handed alacrity she would prepare the grave

and becoming garments of the Anglican Church, though perhaps a gentle

sigh would escape, a sigh of regret for the stately and glowing

vestments of old: for they did honour to the house of God, not because

they were stately and glowing, but because they were offerings of _our

best_.

In all the sweet charities of domestic life she has ever been a

participant. Often and again has she fled the splendid court, the

glittering ball-room, and taken her station at the quiet hearth of the

gentle and home-loving matron. She has lightened the weariness of many

a solitary vigil, and she has heightened the enjoyment of many a

social gossip.

Nor even while courted and caressed in courts and palaces did

Needlework absent herself from the habitations of the poor. Oh no, she

was their familiar friend, the daily and hourly companion of their

firesides. And when she experienced, as all do experience, the

fickleness of court favour, she was cherished and sheltered there. And

there she remained, happy in her utility, till again summoned by royal

mandate to resume her station near the throne. The illustrious and

excellent lady who lately filled the British throne, and who reigned

still more surely in the hearts of Englishwomen, and who has most

graciously permitted us to place her honoured name on these pages,

allured Needlework from her long seclusion, and reinstated her in her

once familiar place among the great and noble.

* * * * *

Fair reader! you see that this gentle dame NEEDLEWORK is of ancient

lineage, of high descent, of courtly habits: will you not permit me to

make you somewhat better acquainted? Pray travel onward with me to her

shrine. The way is not toilsome, nor is the track rugged; but,

"Where the silver fountains wander,

Where the golden streams meander,"

amid the sunny meads and flower-bestrewn paths of fancy and

taste--there will she beguile us. Do not then, pray do not, forsake

me.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] On aurait de la peine a se persuader qu'une pareille opinion eut

ete mise gravement en question dans un concile, et qu'on n'eut decide

en faveur des femmes qu'apres un assez long examen. Cependant le fait

est tres veritable, et ce fut dans le Concile de Macon.

Probleme sur les Femmes, ou l'on essaye de prouver que

les femmes ne sont point des creatures

humaines.--_Amsterdam, 1744._

[2] As, for instance, the ancient Germans, and their offshoots, the

Saxons, &c.

[3] Southey's Life; vol. ii.

CHAPTER II.

EARLY NEEDLEWORK.

"The use of sewing is exceeding old,

As in the sacred text it is enrold:

Our parents first in Paradise began."

John Taylor.

"The rose was in rich bloom on Sharon's plain,

When a young mother, with her first-born, thence

Went up to Sion; for the boy was vow'd

Unto the Temple service. By the hand

She led him; and her silent soul the while,

Oft as the dewy laughter of his eye

Met her sweet serious glance, rejoic'd to think

That aught so pure, so beautiful, was hers,

To bring before her God."

Hemans.

In speaking of the origin of needlework it will be necessary to define

accurately what we mean by the term "needlework;" or else, when we

assert that Eve was the first sempstress, we may be taken to task by

some critical antiquarian, because we may not be able precisely to

prove that the frail and beautiful mother of mankind made use of a

little weapon of polished steel, finely pointed at one end and bored

at the other, and "warranted not to cut in the eye." Assuredly we do

not mean to assert that she did use such an instrument; most

probably--we would _almost_ venture to say most _certainly_--she did

not. But then again the cynical critic would attack us:--"You say that

Eve was the first professor of _needle_work, and yet you disclaim the

use of a needle for her."

No, good sir, we do not. Like other profound investigators and

original commentators, we do not annihilate one hypothesis ere we are

prepared with another, "ready cut and dried," to rise, like any fabled

phoenix, on the ashes of its predecessor. It is not long since we were

edified by a conversation which we heard, or rather overheard, between

two sexagenarians--both well versed in antiquarian lore, and neither

of them deficient in antiquarian tenacity of opinion--respecting some

theory which one of them wanted to establish about some aborigines.

The concluding remark of the conversation--and we opined that it might

as well have formed the commencement--was--

"If you want to lay down _facts_, you must follow history; if you want

to establish a system, it is quite easy to place the people where you

like."

So, if I wished to "establish a system," I could easily make Eve work

with a "superfine drill-eyed needle:" but this is not my object.

It seems most probable that Eve's first needle was a thorn:

"Before man's fall the rose was born,

St. Ambrose sayes, without the thorn;

But, for man's fault, then was the thorn,

Without the fragrant rosebud, born."

Why thorns should spring up at the precise moment of the fall is

difficult to account for in a world where everything has its use,

except we suppose that they were meant for needles: and general

analogy leads us to this conclusion; for in almost all existing

records of people in what we are pleased to call a "savage" state, we

find that women make use of this primitive instrument, or a fish-bone.

"Avant l'invention des aiguilles d'acier, on a du se servir, a leur

defaut, d'epines, ou d'aretes de poissons, ou d'os d'animaux." And as

Eve's first specimen of needlework was certainly completed before the

sacrifice of any living thing, we may safely infer that the latter

implements were not familiar to her. The Cimbrian inhabitants of

Britain passed their time in weaving baskets, or in sewing together

for garments the skins of animals taken in the chase, while they used

as needles for uniting these simple habiliments small bones of fish or

animals rudely sharpened at one end; and needles just of the same sort

were used by the inhabitants of the Sandwich Islands, when the

celebrated Captain Cook first visited them.

Proceed we to the material of the first needlework.

"They sewed themselves fig-leaves together, and made themselves

aprons."

Thus the earliest historical record; and thus the most esteemed

poetical commentator.

"Those leaves

They gather'd, broad as Amazonian targe,

And, with what skill they had, together sew'd,

To gird their waist."

It is supposed that the leaves alluded to here were those of the

banian-tree, of which the leaves, says Sir James Forbes, are large,

soft, and of a lively green; the fruit a small bright scarlet fig. The

Hindoos are peculiarly fond of this tree; they consider its long

duration, its outstretching arms, and overshadowing beneficence, as

emblems of the Deity, and almost pay it divine honours. The Brahmins,

who thus "find a fane in every sacred grove," spend much of their time

in religious solitude, under the shade of the banian-tree; they plant

it near the dewals, or Hindoo temples; and in those villages where

there is no structure for public worship, they place an image under

one of these trees, and there perform morning and evening sacrifice.

The size of some of these trees is stupendous. Sir James Forbes

mentions one which has three hundred and fifty _large_ trunks, the

smaller ones exceeding three thousand; and another, whereunder the

chief of the neighbourhood used to encamp in magnificent style; having

a saloon, dining room, drawing-room, bedchambers, bath, kitchen, and

every other accommodation, all in separate tents; yet did this noble

tree cover the whole, together with his carriages, horses, camels,

guards, and attendants; while its spreading branches afforded shady

spots for the tents of his friends, with their servants and cattle.

And in the march of an army it has been known to shelter seven

thousand men.

Such is the banian-tree, the pride of Hindustan: which Milton refers

to as the one which served "our general mother" for her first essay in

the art of needlework.

"Both together went

Into the thickest wood; there soon they chose

The fig-tree; not that tree for fruit renown'd,

But such as at this day, to Indians known,

In Malabar or Deccan spreads her arms,

Branching so broad and long, that in the ground

The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow

About the mother tree, a pillar'd shade

High overarch'd, and echoing walks between:

There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat,

Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds

At loopholes cut through thickest shade: Those leaves

They gather'd, broad as Amazonian targe;

And, with what skill they had, together sew'd,

To gird their waist."

Some of the most interesting incidents in Holy Writ turn on the

occupation of needlework; slight sketches, nay, hardly so much, but

mere touches which engage all the gentler, and purer, and holier

emotions of our nature. For instance: the beloved child of the

beautiful mother of Israel, for whom Jacob toiled fourteen years,

which were but as one day for the love he bare her--this child, so

eagerly coveted by his mother, so devotedly loved by his father, and

who was destined hereafter to wield the destinies of such a mighty

empire--had a token, a peculiar token, bestowed on him of his father's

overwhelming love and affection. And what was it? "A coat of many

colours;" probably including some not in general use, and obtained by

an elaborate process. Entering himself into the minutiae of a concern,

which, however insignificant in itself, was valuable in his eyes as

giving pleasure to his boy, the fond father selects pieces of

various-coloured cloth, and sets female hands, the most expert of his

household, to join them together in the form of a coat.

But, alas! to whom should he intrust the task? She whose fingers

would have revelled in it, Rachel the mother, was no more; her warm

heart was cold, her busy fingers rested in the tomb. Would his sister,

would Dinah execute the work? No; it was but too probable that she

shared in the jealousy of her brothers. No matter. The father

apportions the task to his handmaidens, and himself superintends the

performance. With pleased eye he watches its progress, and with

benignant smile he invests the happy and gratified child with the

glowing raiment.

This elaborate piece of work, the offering of paternal affection to

please a darling child, was probably the simple and somewhat clumsy

original of those which were afterwards embroidered and subsequently

woven in various colours, and which came to be regarded as garments of

dignity and appropriated to royalty; as it is said of Tamar that "she

had a garment of divers colours upon her: for with such robes were the

king's daughters that were virgins apparelled." It is even now

customary in India to dress a favourite or beautiful child in a coat

of various colours tastefully _sewed together_; and it may not perhaps

be very absurd to refer even to so ancient an origin as Joseph's coat

of many colours the superstition now prevalent in some countries,

which teaches that a child clothed in a garment of many colours is

safe from the blasting of malicious tongues or the machinations of

evil spirits.

In the Book of Samuel we read, "And Hannah his mother, made him a

little coat." This seems a trivial incident enough, yet how

interesting is the scene which this simple mention conjures up! With

all the earnest fervour of that separated race who hoped each one to

be the honoured instrument of bringing a Saviour into the world,

Hannah, then childless, prayed that this reproach might be taken from

her. Her prayer was heard, her son was born; and in holy gratitude she

reared him, not for wealth, for fame, for worldly honour, or even for

her own domestic comfort,--but, from his birth, and before his birth

she devoted him as the servant of the Most High. She indulged herself

with his presence only till her maternal cares had fitted him for

duty; and then, with a tearful eye it might be, and a faltering

footstep, but an unflinching resolution, she devoted him to the altar

of her God.

But never did his image leave her mind: never amid the fair scions

which sprang up and bloomed around her hearth did her thoughts forsake

her first-born; and yearly, when she went up to the Tabernacle with

Elkanah her husband, did she take him "a little coat" which she had

made. We may fancy her quiet happy thoughts when at this employment;

we may fancy the eager earnest questionings of the little group by

whom she was surrounded; the wondering about their absent brother; the

anxious catechisings respecting his whereabouts; and, above all, the

admiration of the new garment itself, and the earnest criticisms on

it; especially if in form and fashion it should somewhat differ from

their own. And then arrives the moment when the garment is committed

to its envelope; and the mother, weeping to part from her little ones,

yet longing to see her absent boy, receives their adieux and their

thousand reminiscences, and sets forth on her journey.

Again she treads the hallowed courts, again she meekly renews her

vows, and again a mother's longings, a mother's hopes are quenched in

the full enjoyment of a mother's love. Beautiful and good, the

blessing of Heaven attending him, and throwing a beam of light on his

fair brow, the pure and holy child appears like a seraph administering

at that altar to which he had been consecrated a babe, and at which

his ministry was sanctioned even by the voice of the Most High

himself, when in the solemn stillness of midnight he breathed his

wishes into the heart of the child, and made him, infant as he was,

the medium of his communications to one grown hoary in the service of

the altar.

The solemn duties ended, Hannah invests her hopeful boy with the

little coat, whilst her willing fingers lingeringly perform their

office, as if loth to quit a task in which they so much delight. And

then with meek step and grateful heart she wends her homeward way, and

meditates tranquilly on the past interview, till the return of another

year finds her again on her pilgrimage of love--the joyful bearer of

another "little coat."

And a high tribute is paid to needlework in the history of Dorcas, who

was restored to life by the apostle St. Peter, by whom "all the widows

stood weeping, and showing the coats and garments which Dorcas made

while she was with them."

"In these were read

The monuments of Dorcas dead:

These were thy acts, and thou shalt have

These hung as honours o'er thy grave:

And after us, distressed,

Should fame be dumb,

Thy very tomb

Would cry out, Thou art blessed!"

But it is not merely as an object of private and domestic utility that

needlework is referred to in the Bible. It was applied early to the

service of the Tabernacle, and the directions concerning it are very

clear and specific; but before this time, and most probably as early

as the time of Abraham, rich and valuable raiment of needlework was

accounted of as part of the _bona fide_ property of a wealthy man.

When the patriarch's steward sought Rebekah for the wife of Isaac, he

"brought forth jewels of silver, and jewels of gold, and _raiment_."

This "raiment" consisted, in all likelihood, of garments embroidered

with gold, the handiwork, it may be, of the female slaves of the

patriarch; such garments being in very great esteem from the earliest

ages, and being then, as now, a component portion of those presents or

offerings without which one personage hardly thought of approaching

another.

Fashion in those days was not quite the chameleon-hued creature that

she is at present; nor were the fabrics on which her fancy was

displayed quite so light and airy: their gold _was_ gold--not silk

covered with gilded silver; and consequently the raiment of those

days, inwrought with slips of gold beaten thin and cut into spangles

or strips, and sewed on in various patterns, sometimes intermingled

with precious stones, would carry its own intrinsic value with it.

This "raiment" descended from father to son, as a chased goblet and a

massy wrought urn does now; and was naturally and necessarily

inventoried as a portion of the property. The practice of making

presents of garments is still quite usual amongst the eastern nations;

and to such an excess was it carried with regard to those who, from

their calling or any other circumstance, were in public favour, that,

so late as the ninth century, Bokteri, an illustrious poet of Cufah,

had so many presents made him, that at his death he was found

possessed of a hundred complete suits of clothes, two hundred shirts,

and five hundred turbans.

Horace, speaking of Lucullus (who had pillaged Asia, and first

introduced Asiatic[4] refinements among the Romans), says that, some

persons having waited on him to request the loan of a hundred suits

out of his wardrobe for the Roman stage, he exclaimed--"A hundred

suits! how is it possible for me to furnish such a number? However, I

will look over them and send you what I have."--After some time he

writes a note and tells them he had _five thousand_, to the whole or

part of which they were welcome.

In all the eastern world formerly, and to a great extent now, the

arraying a person in a rich dress is considered a very high

compliment, and it was one of the ancient modes of investing with the

highest degree of subordinate power. Thus was Joseph arrayed by

Pharaoh, and Mordecai by Ahasueras.

We all remember what important effects are produced by splendid robes

in "The Tale of the Wonderful Lamp," and in many other of those

fascinating tales (which are allowed to be rigidly correct in the

delineations of eastern life). They were doubtless esteemed the

richest part of the spoil after a battle, as we find the mother of

Sisera apportioning them as his share, and reiterating her delighted

anticipations of the "raiment of needlework" which should be his: "a

prey of divers colours, of divers colours of needlework, of divers

colours of needlework on both sides, meet for the necks of them that

take the spoil."

Job has many allusions to raiment as an essential part of "treasures"

in the East; and our Saviour refers to the same when he desires his

hearers not to lay up for themselves "treasures" on earth, where

_moth_ and rust corrupt. St. James even more explicitly: "Go to now,

ye rich men; weep and howl for your miseries that shall come upon you.

Your gold and silver is cankered, and your GARMENTS are moth-eaten."

The first notice we have of gold-wire or thread being used in

embroidery is in Exodus, in the directions given for the embroidery of

the priests' garments: from this it appears that the metal was still

used alone, being beaten fine and then rounded. This art the Hebrews

probably learnt from the Egyptians, by whom it was carried to such an

astonishing degree of nicety, that they could either weave it in or

work it on their finest linen. And doubtless the productions of the

Hebrews now must have equalled the most costly and intricate of those

of Egypt. This the adornments of the Tabernacle testify.

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.

CHAPTER III.

NEEDLEWORK OF THE TABERNACLE.

"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 far between 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 the _home_ which 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 splendid Tabernacle. 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 testimony to 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 his

demeanour 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 must cut 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 venerable man, 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 its wings 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.

CHAPTER IV.

NEEDLEWORK OF THE EGYPTIANS.

"How is thy glory, Egypt, pass'd away!

Weep, child of ruin, o'er thy humbled name!

The wreck alone that marks thy deep decay

Now 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 women transacted 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 animals in 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

richly embroidered 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 Moeris, 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 L70,700 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

phoenix, 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, that

The winds were love-sick with them: the oars were silver;

Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made

The water, which they beat, to follow faster,

As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,

It beggar'd all description: she did lie

In her pavilion (cloth of gold, of tissue),

O'erpicturing that Venus, where we see

The fancy outwork nature; on each side her

Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,

With diverse-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem

To 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 helm

A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle

Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands,

That yarely frame the office. From the barge

A strange invisible perfume hits the sense

Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast

Her 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 or

the 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. The maker 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 a forger des nouvelles,' me dit alors un gros

Athenien qui etait assis aupres de moi. 'Il ne s'occupe que de choses

qui ne le touchent point. Pour moi, mon interieur me suffit. J'ai une

femme que j'aime beaucoup;' et il me fit l'eloge de sa femme. 'Hier je

ne pus pas souper avec elle, j'etais prie 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 reve qui m'inquiete;' et il me raconta

son reve. Ensuite il me dit pesamment que la ville fourmillait

d'etrangers; que les hommes d'aujourd'hui ne valaient pas ceux

d'autrefois; que les denrees etaient a bas prix; qu'on pourrait

esperer une bonne recolte, s'il venait a pleuvoir. Apres m'avoir

demande le quantieme du mois, il se leva pour aller souper avec sa

femme."

CHAPTER V.

NEEDLEWORK OF THE GREEKS AND ROMANS.

"------Supreme

Sits 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 ceasing

From labours increasing;

And doubling his gains

With 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 full

Of 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'education des filles. Suivant la difference des etats, elles

apprennent a lire, ecrire, coudre, filer, preparer la laine dont on

fait les vetemens, et veiller aux soins du menage. En general, les

meres exhortent leurs filles a se conduire avec sagesse; mais elles

insistent beaucoup plus sur la necessite de se tenir droites,

d'effacer leurs epaules, de serrer leur sein avec un large ruban,

d'etre extremement sobres, et de prevenir, par toutes sortes de

moyens, un embonpoint qui nuirait a l'elegance de la taille et a la

grace des mouvemens."

Homer, the great fountain of ancient lore, scarcely throughout 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 age

Find her far distant from her native soil,

Beneath my roof in Argos, at her task

Of 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 sake

Wag'd by contending nations."

Hector foreseeing the miseries consequent upon the destruction of

Troy, says to Andromache--

"But no grief

So moves me as my grief for thee alone,

Doom'd then to follow some imperious Greek,

A weeping captive, to the distant shores

Of Argos; there to labour at the loom

For a taskmistress."

And again he says to her--

"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'd

Her Hector's absence in the field alone.

She in her chamber at the palace-top

A splendid texture wrought, on either side

All 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. Antinoues thus complains of her:--

"Elusive of the bridal day, she gives

Fond 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, spread

The 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 bequeath

A 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 primitive simplicity 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 the first 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 Caesar they

began at Rome to use their gownes of cloth shorne, as also with a

curled nap.--As for those robes which are called crebrae and

papaveratae, 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 praetextae, were

devised first by the Tuscanes. The Trabeae 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; such gold 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 the

_material_ of 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 Caesar

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 the practice 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,

"----he open'd wide the sculptur'd lids

Of various chests, whence mantles twelve he took

Of texture beautiful; twelve single cloaks;

As many carpets, with as many robes;

To which he added vests an equal store."

When Telemachus is about to leave Menelaus--

"The beauteous queen revolv'd with careful eyes

Her various textures of unnumber'd dyes,

And chose the largest; with no vulgar art

Her own fair hands embroider'd every part;

Beneath the rest it lay divinely bright,

Like radiant Hesper o'er the gems of night."

That much of this work was highly beautiful may be inferred from the

description of the robe of Ulysses:--

"In the rich woof a hound, Mosaic drawn,

Bore on full stretch, and seiz'd a dappled fawn;

Deep in the neck his fangs indent their hold;

They pant and struggle in the moving gold."

And this robe, Penelope says,

"In happier hours her artful hand employ'd."

To invest a visitor with an embroidered robe was considered the very

highest mark of honour and regard.

When Telemachus is at the magnificent court of Menelaus--

"----a bright damsel train attend the guests

With liquid odours and _embroider'd vests_."

* * * * *

"Give to the stranger guest a stranger's dues:

Bring gold, a pledge of love; a talent bring,

A _vest_, a _robe_."

* * * * *

"--------in order roll'd

The robes, the vests are rang'd, and heaps of gold:

And adding _a rich dress inwrought with art_,

A gift expressive of her bounteous heart,

Thus spoke (the queen) to Ithacus."

When Cambyses wished to attain some point from an Ethiopian prince, he

forwarded, amongst other presents, a rich vest. The Ethiopian, taking

the garment, inquired what it was, and how it was made; but its

glittering tracery did not decoy the unsophisticated prince. When

Xerxes arrived at Acanthos, he interchanged the rites of hospitality

with the people, and presented several with Median vests. Probably our

readers will remember the circumstance of Alexander making the mother

of Darius a present of some rich vestures, probably of woollen

fabrics, and telling her that she might make her grandchildren learn

the art of weaving them; at which the royal lady felt insulted and

deeply hurt, as it was considered ignominious by the Persian women to

work in wool. Hearing of her misapprehension, Alexander himself waited

on her, and in the gentlest and most respectful terms told the

illustrious captive that, far from meaning any offence, the custom of

his own country had misled him; and that the vestments he had offered

were not only a present from his royal sisters, but wrought by their

own hands.

Outre as appear some of the flaring patterns of the present day, the

boldest of them must be _quiet_ and unattractive compared with those

we read of formerly, when not only human figures, but birds and

animals, were wrought not merely on hangings and carpets but on

wearing apparel. Ciampini gives various instances.[6]

What changes, says he, do not a long course of years produce! Who now,

except in the theatre, or at a carnival or masquerade (spectaculis ac

rebus ludiciis), would endure garments inscribed with verses and

titles, and painted with various figures? Nevertheless, it is plain

that such garments were constantly used in ancient times. To say

nothing of Homer, who assigns to Ulysses a tunic variegated with

figures of animals; to say nothing of the Massagetae, whom Herodotus

relates painted animals on their garments with the juice of herbs; we

also read of these garments (though then considered very antiquated)

being used under the Caesars of Rome.

They say that Alcisthenes the Sybarite had a garment of such

magnificence that when he exhibited it in the Temple of Juno at

Lacinium, where all Italy was congregated, it attracted universal

attention. It was purchased from the Carthaginians, by Dionysius the

elder, for 120 talents. It was twenty-two feet in breadth, of a purple

ground, with animals wrought all over, except in the middle, where

were Jupiter, Juno, Themis, Minerva, Apollo, Venus: on one sleeve it

had a figure of Alcisthenes, on the other of his city Sybaris.

That this description is not exaggerated may be inferred from the

following passage from a homily on Dives and Lazarus by a Bishop of

Amuasan in Pontus, given by Ciampini.

"They have here no bounds to this foolish art, for no sooner was

invented the useless art of weaving in figures in a kind of picture,

such as animals of all sorts, than (rich persons) procure flowered

garments, and also those variegated with an infinite number of images,

both for themselves, their wives, and children. . . . . . . Whensoever

thus clothed they go abroad, they go, as it were, painted all over,

and pointing out to one another with the finger the pictures on their

garments.

"For there are lions and panthers, and bears and bulls, and dogs and

woods, and rocks and huntsmen; and, in a word, everything that can be

thought of, all drawn to the life: for it was necessary, forsooth,

that not only the walls of their houses should be painted, but their

coats (tunica) also, and likewise the cloak (pallium) which covers it.

"The more pious of these gentry take their subjects from the Gospel

history: _e.g._ Christ himself with his disciples, or one of the

miracles, is depicted. In this manner you shall see the marriage of

Cana and the waterpots; the paralytic carrying his bed on his

shoulders; the blind man cured by clay; the woman with the issue of

blood taking hold of the border (of Christ's garment); the harlot

falling at the feet of Jesus; Lazarus coming from the tomb: and they

fancy there is great piety in all this, and that putting on such

garments must be pleasing to God."

The palmated garment was figured with palm-leaves, and was a triumphal

or festive garment. It is referred to in an epistle of Gratian to

Augustus: "I have sent thee a palmated garment, in which the name of

our divine parent Constantine is interwoven."

In allusion to these lettered garments Ausonius celebrates Sabina

(textrice simul ac poetria), whose name thus lives when those of more

important personages are forgotten:--

They who both webs and verses weave,

The first to thee, O chaste Minerva, leave;

The latter to the Muses they devote:

To me, Sabina, it appears a sin

To separate two things so near akin,

So I have wrote thy verses on my coat.[7]

And again:

Whether the Tyrian robe your praise demand,

Or the neat verse upon the edge descried,

Know both proceed from the same skilful hand:

In both these arts Sabina takes a pride.[8]

It is imagined that the embroidered vestments worn in Homer's time

bore a strong resemblance to those now worn by the Moguls; and the

custom of making presents, so discernible through his work, still

prevails throughout Asia. It is not (says Sir James Forbes) so much

the custom in India to present dresses ready made to the visitors as

to offer the materials, especially to Europeans. In Turkey, Persia,

and Arabia, it is generally the reverse. We find in Chardin that the

kings of Persia had great wardrobes, where there were always many

hundred habits, sorted, ready for presents, and that more than forty

tailors were always employed in this service.

It is not improbable that this ancient custom of presenting a visitor

with a new dress as a token of welcome, a symbol of rejoicing at his

presence, may have led to many of the general customs which have

prevailed, and do still, of having new clothes at any season of joy or

festivity. New clothes are thought by the people of the East

_requisite_ for the due solemnization of a time of rejoicing. The

Turks, even the poorest of them, would submit to any privation rather

than be without new clothes at the Bairam or Great Festival. There is

an anecdote recorded of the Caliph Montanser Billah, that going one

day to the upper roof of his palace he saw a number of clothes spread

out on the flat roofs of the houses of Bagdat. He asked the reason,

and was told that the inhabitants of Bagdat were drying their clothes,

which they had newly washed, on account of the approach of the Bairam.

The caliph was so concerned that any should be so poor as to be

obliged to wash their old clothes for want of new ones with which to

celebrate this festival, that he ordered a great quantity of gold to

be instantly made into bullets, proper to be shot out of crossbows,

which he and his courtiers threw, by this means, upon every terrace of

the city where he saw garments spread to dry.

FOOTNOTES:

[5] Book viii. chap. 48.

[6] Ciampini, Vetera Monimenta, cap. xiii.

[7] "Licia qui texunt, et Carmina; Carmina Musis,

Licia contribuunt, casta Minerva, tibi.

Ast ego rem sociam non dissociabo, Sabina,

Versibus inscripsi, quae mea texta meis."

[8] "Sive probas Tyrio textam sub tegmine vestem,

Seu placet inscripti commoditas tituli.

Ipsius haec Dominae concennat utrumque venustas:

Has geminas artes una Sabina colet."

CHAPTER VI.

THE DARK AGES.--"SHEE-SCHOOLS."

"There was an auncient house not far away,

Renown'd throughout the world for sacred lore

And pure unspotted life: so well they say

It govern'd was, and guided evermore

Through wisedome of a matrone grave and hore,

Whose onely joy was to relieve the needes

Of wretched soules, and helpe the helplesse pore:

All night she spent in bidding of her bedes,

And all the day in doing good and godly dedes."

Faerie Queene.

"Meantime, whilst monks' _pens_ were thus employed, nuns

with their _needles_ wrote histories also: that of

_Christ his passion_ for their altar-clothes; and other

Scripture- (and more legend-) stories in hangings to

adorn their houses."--Fuller, Ch. Hist., B. 6.

Needlework is an art so indissolubly connected with the convenience

and comfort of mankind at large, that it is impossible to suppose any

state of society in which it has not existed. Its modes varied, of

course, according to the lesser or greater degrees of refinement in

other matters with which it was connected; and when we find from

Muratori that "nulla s'e detto fin qui dell'Arte del Tessere dopo la

declinazione del Romano Imperio; e solo in fuggire s'e parlato di

alcune vesti degli antichi," we may fairly infer that the _ornamental_

needlework of the time was not extensively encouraged, although never

entirely laid aside.

The desolation that overran the world was found alike in its greatest

or most insignificant concerns; and the same torrent that swept

monarchs from their thrones and peers from their halls did away with

the necessity for professors of the decorative arts. There needed not

the embroiderer of gold and purple to blazon the triumph of a

conqueror who disdained other habiliment than the skin of some

slaughtered beast.[9]

The matron who yet retained the principle of Roman virtue, or the fair

and refined maiden of the eastern capital, far from seeking personal

adornment, rather shunned any decoration which might attract the eyes

and inflame the passions of untamed and ruthless conquerors. All usual

habits were subverted, and for long years the history of the European

world is but a bloody record of war and tumult, of bloodshed and

strife. Few are the cases of peace and tranquillity in this desert of

tumult and blood-guiltiness; but those few "isles of the blessed" in

this ocean of discord, those few sunny spots in the gloomy landscape,

are intimately connected with our theme. The use of the needle for the

daily necessities of life could never, as we have remarked, be

superseded; but the practice of ornamental needlework, in common with

every ennobling science and improving art, was kept alive during this

period of desolation by the church, and by the individual labours and

collective zeal of the despised and contemned monks.

Sharing that hallowed influence which hovered over and protected the

church at this fearful season--for, from the carelessness or

superstition of the barbarians, the ministers of religion were

spared--nunneries, with some few exceptions, were now like refuges

pointed out by Heaven itself. They were originally founded by the

sister of St. Anthony, the hermit of the Egyptian desert, and in their

primitive institution were meant solely for those who, abjuring the

world for religious motives, were desirous to spend their whole time

in devotional exercises. But their sphere of utility became afterwards

widely extended. They became safe and peaceable asylums for all those

to whom life's pilgrimage had been too thorny. The frail but repentant

maiden was here sheltered from the scorn of an uncharitable world; the

virtuous but suffering female, whose earthly hopes had, from whatever

cause, been crushed, could here weep and pray in peace: while she to

whom the more tangible trouble of poverty had descended might here,

without the galling yoke of charity and dependence, look to a refuge

for those evil days when the breaking of the golden bowl, the loosing

of the silver cord, should disable her from the exertions necessary

for her maintenance.

Have we any--ay, with all their faults and imperfections on their

heads--have we, in these days of enlightenment, any sort of substitute

for the blessings they held out to dependent and suffering woman of

whatever rank?

Convents became also schools for the education of young women of rank,

who here imbibed in early youth principles of religion which might

enable them to endure with patience and fortitude those after-trials

of life from which no station or wealth could exempt them; and they

acquired here those accomplishments, and were taught here those

lighter occupations, amongst which fine needlework and embroidery

occupied a conspicuous position, which would qualify them to beguile

in a becoming manner the many hours of leisure which their elevated

rank would confer on them.

"Nunneries," says Fuller, "also were good shee-schools, wherein the

girles and maids of the neighbourhood were taught to read and work;

and sometimes a little Latine was taught them therein. Yea, give me

leave to say, if such feminine foundations had still continued,

provided no _vow_ were obtruded upon them (virginity is least kept

where it is most constrained), haply the weaker sex (besides the

avoiding modern inconveniences) might be heightened to an higher

perfection than hitherto hath been attained. That sharpnesse of their

wits and suddenness of their conceits (which their enemies must allow

unto them) might by education be improved into a judicious solidity,

and that adorned with arts which now they want, not because they

cannot learn, but are not taught them. I say, if such feminine

foundations were extant now of dayes, haply some virgins of highest

birth would be glad of such places, and I am sure their fathers and

elder brothers would not be sorry for the same."

Miss Lawrance gives a more detailed account of the duties taught in

them. "In consequence of convents being considered as establishments

exclusively belonging to the Latin church, Protestant writers, as by

common consent, have joined in censuring them, forgetful of the many

benefits which, without any reference to their peculiar creed, they

were calculated to confer. Although providing instruction for the

young, the convent was a large establishment for various orders of

women. There were the nuns, the lay sisters, always a numerous class,

and a large body of domestics; while in those higher convents, where

the abbess exercised manorial jurisdiction, there were seneschal,

esquires, gentlemen, yeomen, grooms, indeed the whole establishment of

a baronial castle, except the men-at-arms and the archer-band. Thus

within the convent walls the pupil saw nearly the same domestic

arrangement to which she had been accustomed in her father's castle;

while, instead of being constantly surrounded with children, well born

and intelligent women might be her occasional companions. And then the

most important functions were exercised by women. The abbess presided

in her manorial court, the cellaress performed the extensive offices

of steward, the praecentrix led the singing and superintended the

library, and the infirmaress watched over the sick, affording them

alike spiritual and medical aid. Thus, from her first admission, the

pupil was taught to respect and to emulate the talents of women. But

a yet more important peculiarity did the convent school present. It

was a noble, a well-endowed, and an independent institution; and it

proffered education as a boon. Here was no eager canvassing for

scholars, no promises of unattainable advantages; for the convent

school was not a mercantile establishment, nor was education a trade.

The female teachers of the middle ages were looked up to alike by

parent and child, and the instruction so willingly offered was

willingly and gratefully received; the character of the teacher was

elevated, and as a necessary consequence so was the character of the

pupil."

But in addition to those inmates who had dedicated their lives to

religion, and those who were placed there specifically for education,

convents afforded shelter to numbers who sought only temporary

retirement from the world under the influence of sorrow, or temporary

protection under the apprehension of danger. And this was the case not

merely through the very dark era with which our chapter commences, but

for centuries afterwards, and when the world was comparatively

civilized. Our own "good Queen Maude" assumed the veil in the convent

of Romsey, without however taking the vows, as the only means of

escaping from a forced marriage; and in the subsequent reign, that of

Stephen, so little regard was paid to law or decorum, that a convent

was the only place where a maiden, even of gentle birth, if she had

riches, could have a chance of shelter and safety from the

machinations of those who resorted to any sort of brutality or

violence to compel her to a marriage which would secure her

possessions to her ravisher.

It was then in the convents, and in them alone, that, during the

barbarism and confusion consequent upon the overthrow of the ancient

empire, and the irruption of the untamed hordes who overran southern

Europe from the north and west,--it was in the convents that some

remnants of the ancient art of embroidery were still preserved. The

nuns considered it an acceptable service to employ their time and

talents in the construction of vestments which, being intended for the

service of the church, were rich and sumptuous even at the time when

richness and elegance of apparel were unknown elsewhere.[10] It was no

proof of either the ignorance or the bad taste or the irreligion of

the "_dark_" ages, that the religious edifices were fitted up with a

rich and gorgeous solemnity which are unheard of in these days of

light and knowledge and economy. And besides the construction of rich

and elaborately ornamented vestments for the priests, and hangings for

the altars, shrines, &c., besides these being peculiarly the

occupation of the professed sisters of religious houses, it was

likewise the pride and the delight of ladies of rank to devote both

their money to the purchase and their time to the embroidering of

sacerdotal garments as offerings to the church. And whether

temporarily sheltering within the walls of a convent, or happily

presiding in her own lofty halls, it was oftentime the pride and

pleasure of the high-born dame to embroider a splendid cope, a rich

vest, or a gorgeous hanging, as a votive and grateful offering to that

holy altar where perhaps she had prayed in sorrow, and found

consolation and peace.

FOOTNOTES:

[9] "In the most inclement winter the hardy German was satisfied with

a scanty garment made of the skin of some animal."--Gibbon.

[10] Muratori (Diss. 25), speaking of the mean habiliments usual in

Italy even so late as the 13th century, adds, "Ma non per questo

s'hanno a credere cosi rozzi e nemici del Lusso que' Secoli. A buon

conto anche in Italia qui non era cieco, sovente potea mirare i piu

delicati lavori di Seta, che _servivano di ornamenti alle Chiese e

alle sacre funzioni_."

CHAPTER VII.

NEEDLEWORK OF THE DARK AGES.

"Last night I dreamt a dream; behold!

I saw a church was fret with gold,

With arras richly dight:

There saw I altar, pall, and pix,

Chalice, and font, and crucifix,

And tapers burning bright."

W. S. Rose.

Over those memorials of the past which chance and mischance have left

us, time hath drawn a thick curtain, obliterating all soft and gentle

touches, which connected harmoniously the bolder features of the

landscape, and leaving these but as landmarks to intimate what had

been there. We would fain linger on those times, and call up the

gentle spirits of the long departed to describe scenes of quiet but

useful retirement at which we now only dimly guess. We would witness

the hour of recreation in the convent, when the severer duties of the

cloister gave place to the cheerful one of companionship; and the

"pale votary" quitted the lonely cell and the solitary vigil, to

instruct the blooming novice in the art of embroidery, or to ply her

own accustomed and accomplished fingers in its fairy creations. The

younger ones would be ecstatic in their commendations, and eager in

their exertions to rival the fair sempstress; whilst a gratified

though sad smile would brighten her own pale cheek as the lady abbess

laid aside the richly illuminated volume by which her own attention

had been engrossed, and from which she had from time to time read

short and instructive passages aloud, commenting on and enforcing the

principles they inculcated; and holding the work towards the casement,

so that the bright slanting rays of the setting sun which fell through

the richly carved lattice might illumine the varied tints of the

stitchery, she would utter some kind and encouraging words of

admiration and praise.

Perhaps the work was a broidered scarf for some spiritual father, a

testimony of gratitude and esteem from the convent at large; perhaps

it was a tunic or a girdle which some high and wealthy lady had

bespoken for an offering, and which the meek and pious sisterhood were

happy to do for hire, bestowing the proceeds on the necessities of the

convent; or, if those were provided, on charity. Perhaps it was a pair

of sandals, so magnificently wrought as to be destined as a present by

some lofty abbot to the pope himself, like those which Robert, Abbot

of St. Alban's, sent to the Pope Adrian the Fourth; and which alone,

out of a multitude of the richest offerings, the pope retained;[11]

or if it were in England (for our domestic scene will apply to all the

Christian world) it might be a magnificent covering for the high

altar, with a scripture history embroidered in the centre, and the

border, of regal purple, inwrought with gold and precious stones. We

say, _if in England_, because so celebrated was the English work, the

Opus Anglicum,[12] that other nations eagerly desired to possess it.

The embroidered vestments of some English clergymen were so much

admired at the Papal Court, that the Pope, asking where they had been

made, and being told "in England," despatched bulls to several English

abbots, commanding them to procure similar ones for him. Some of the

vestments of these days were almost covered with gold and precious

stones.

Or it might be a magnificent pall, in the days in which this garment

had lost its primitive character, that taxed the skill and the

patience of the fair needlewoman. It was about the year A.D. 601 that

Pope Gregory sent two archbishop's palls into England; the one for

London, which see was afterwards removed to Canterbury, and the other

to York. Fuller gives the following account of this garment

primitively:--

"The pall is a pontificall vestment, considerable for the matter,

making, and mysteries thereof. For the matter, it is made of

lamb's-wooll and superstition. I say, _of lamb's-wooll, as it comes

from the sheep's back, without any other artificiall colour_, spun

(say some) by a peculiar order of nunnes, _first cast into the tombe

of St. Peter_, taken from his body (say others); surely most sacred if

from both; and (superstitiously) adorned with little black crosses.

For the form thereof, the _breadth exceeded not three fingers_ (one of

our bachelor's lamb-skin hoods in Cambridge would make three of them),

_having two labells hanging down before and behind_, which the

archbishops onely, when going to the altar, put about their necks,

above their other pontificall ornaments. Three mysteries were couched

therein. First, humility, which beautifies the clergy above all their

costly copes; secondly, innocency, to imitate lamb-like simplicitie;

and thirdly, industry, to follow him who fetched his wandering sheep

home on his shoulders. But to speak plainly, the mystery of mysteries

in this pall was, that the archbishops receiving it showed therein

their dependence on Rome; and a mote in this manner ceremoniously

taken was a sufficient acknowledgment of their subjection. And, as it

owned Rome's power, so in after ages it increased their profit. For,

though now such palls were freely given to archbishops, whose places

in Britain for the present were rather cumbersome than commodious,

having little more than their paines for their labour; yet in after

ages the archbishop of Canterburie's pall was sold for five thousand

florenes:[13] so that the Pope might well have the Golden Fleece, if

he could sell all his lamb's-wooll at that rate."[14]

The accounts of the rich embroidered ecclesiastical vestments--robes,

sandals, girdles, tunics, vests, palls, cloaks, altar-cloths, and

veils or hangings of various descriptions, common in churches in the

dark ages--would almost surpass belief, if the minuteness with which

they are enumerated in some few ancient authors did not attest the

fact. Still these in the most diffuse writers are a mere catalogue of

church properties, and, as such, would, in the dry detail, be but

little interesting to our readers. There is enough said of them,

however, to attest their variety, their beauty, their magnificence;

and to impress one with a very favourable idea of the female ingenuity

and perseverance of those days. The cost of many of these garments was

enormous, for pearls and precious jewels were literally interwrought,

and the time and labour bestowed on them was almost incredible. It was

no uncommon circumstance for three years to be spent even by these

assiduous and indefatigable votaries of the needle on one garment. But

it is only casually, in the pages of the antiquarian, that there is

any record of them:--

"With their names

No bard embalms and sanctifies his song:

And history, so warm on meaner themes,

Is cold on this."

"Noi" (says Muratori) "che ammiriamo, e con ragione, la belta e

varieta di tante drapperie dei nostri tempi, abbiam nondimeno da

confessare un obbligo non lieve agli antichi, che ci hanno prima

spianata la via, e senza i lumi loro non potremmo oggidi vantare un si

gran progresso nell'Arti."

And that this was the case a few instances may suffice to show; and it

may not be quite out of place here to refer to one out of a thousand

articles of value and beauty which were lost in the great

conflagration ("which so cruelly laid waste the habitations of the

servants of God") of the doomed and often suffering, but always

magnificent, Croyland Abbey. It was "that beautiful and costly sphere,

most curiously constructed of different metals, according to the

different planets. Saturn was of copper, Jupiter of gold, Mars of

iron, the Sun of brass, Mercury of amber, Venus of tin, and the Moon

of silver: the colours of all the signs of the Zodiac had their

several figures and colours variously finished, and adorned with such

a mixture of precious stones and metals as amused the eye, while it

informed the mind of every beholder. Such another sphere was not known

or heard of in England; and it was a present from the King of France."

No insignificant proof this of the mechanical skill of the eleventh

century.

We are told that Pope Eutychianus, who lived in the reign of the

Emperor Aurelian, buried in different places 342 martyrs with his own

hands; and he ordained that a faithful martyr should on no account be

interred without a dalmatic robe or a purple colobio. This is perhaps

one of the earliest notices of ecclesiastical pomp or pride in

vestments. But some forty years afterwards Pope Silvester was

invested by the hands of his attendants with a Phrygian robe of snowy

white, on which was traced in sparkling threads by busy female hands

the resurrection of our Lord; and so magnificent was this garment

considered that it was ordained to be worn by his successors on state

occasions: and to pass at once to the seventh century, there are

records of various church hangings which had become injured by old age

being carefully repaired at considerable expense; which expense and

trouble would not, we may fairly infer, have been incurred if the

articles in question, even at this more advanced period, had not been

considered of value and of beauty.

Leo the Third, in the eighth century, was a magnificent benefactor to

the church. With the vessels of rich plate and jewels of various

descriptions which were in all ages offering to the church we have

nothing to do: amongst various other vestments, Leo gave to the high

altar of the blessed Peter, the Prince of the Apostles, a covering

spangled with gold (_chrysoclabam_) and adorned with precious stones;

having the histories both of our Saviour giving to the blessed Apostle

Peter the power of binding and loosing, and also representing the

suffering of Peter, the Prince of the Apostles, and Paul. It was of

great size, and exhibited on St. Peter and St. Paul's days.[15]

Pope Paschal, early in the ninth century, had some magnificent

garments wrought, which he presented to different churches. One of

these was an altar-cloth of Tyrian purple, having in the middle a

picture of golden emblems, with the countenance of our Lord, and of

the blessed martyrs Cosman and Damian, with three other brothers. The

cross was wrought in gold, and had round it a border of olive-leaves

most beautifully worked. Another had golden emblems, with our Saviour,

surrounded with archangels and apostles, of wonderful beauty and

richness, being ornamented with pearls.

In these ages robes and hangings with crimson or purple borders,

called _blatta_, from the name of the insect from which the dye was

obtained, were much in use. An insect, supposed to be the one so often

referred to by this name in the writings of the ancients, is found now

on the coasts of Guayaquil and Guatima. The dye is very beautiful, and

is easily transferred. The royal purple so much esteemed of old was of

very different shades, for the terms purple, red, crimson, scarlet,

are often used indiscriminately; and a pretty correct conception may

be acquired of the value of this imperial tint formerly from the

circumstance that, when Alexander took possession of the city of Susa

and of its enormous treasures, among other things there were found

five thousand quintals of Hermione purple, the finest in the world,

which had been treasured up there during the space of 190 years;

notwithstanding which, its beauty and lustre were no way diminished.

Some idea may be formed of the prodigious value of this store from the

fact that this purple was sold at the rate of 100 crowns a pound, and

the quintal is a hundredweight of Paris.

Pope Paschal had a robe worked with gold and gems, having the history

of the Virgins with lighted torches beautifully related: he had

another of Byzantine scarlet with a worked border of olive-leaves.

This was a very usual decoration of ecclesiastical robes, and a very

suitable one; for, from the time when in the beak of Noah's dove it

was first an emblem of comfort, it has ever, in all ages, in all

nations, at all times, been symbolical of plenty and peace. This pope

had also a robe of woven gold, worn over a cassock of scarlet silk; a

dress certainly worth the naming, though not so much as others

indebted to our useful little implement which Cowper calls the

"threaded steel." But he had another rich and peculiar garment, which

was entirely indebted to the needlewoman for its varied and radiant

hues. This was a robe of an amber colour,[16] _having peacocks_.

Pope Leo the Fourth had a hanging worked with the needle, having the

portrait of a man seated upon a peacock. Pope Stefano the Fifth had

four magnificent hangings for the great altar, one of which was

wrought in peacocks. We find in romance that there was a high

emblematical value attached to peacocks; not so high, however, as to

prevent our ancestors from eating them; but it is difficult to account

for their being so frequently introduced in designs professedly

religious. In romance and chivalry they were supereminent. "To mention

the peacock (says M. Le Grand) is to write its panegyrick." Many noble

families bore the peacock as their crest; and in the Provencal Courts

of Love the successful poet was crowned with a wreath formed of them.

The coronation present given to the Queen of our Henry the Third, by

her sister, the Queen of France, was a large silver peacock, whose

train was set with sapphires and pearls, and other precious jewels,

wrought with silver. This elegant piece of jewellery was used as a

reservoir for sweet waters, which were forced out of its beak into a

basin of white silver chased.