"Hir slevis suld be of esperance,

To keip hir fra dispair;

Hir gluvis of the gud govirnance,

To hyd hir fingearis fair.

"Hir schone suld be of sickernes[108]

In syne that scho nocht slyd;

Hir hois of honestie, I ges,

I suld for hir provyd.

"Wald scho put on this garmond gay,

I duret sweir by my seill,

That scho woir nevir grene nor gray

That set hir half so weill."

FOOTNOTES:

[95] Lady's Magazine.

[96] Bugg--buge, lamb's furr.--Dr. Jamieson.

[97] Ancassin and Nicolette.

[98] The first instance in which the name of this stone is

found.--Miss Lawrence.

[99] The Knyght of the Toure.

[100] _Demyng_--censure.

[101] _Deir_--dismay.

[102] _Mailyeis_--network.

[103] _Purfillit_--furbelowed.

[104] _Fassoun_--address, politeness.

[105] _Tholl_--endure.

[106] _Having_--behaviour.

[107] _Patelet_--run.

[108] _Sickernes_--steadfastness.

CHAPTER XIV.

NEEDLEWORK IN COSTUME.--PART II.

"And the short French breeches make such a comelie

vesture that, except it were a dog in a doublet, you

shall not see anie so disguised as are my countriemen of

England."

Holinshed.

"Out from the Gadis to the eastern morne,

Not one but holds his native state forlorne.

When comelie striplings wish it were their chance

For Cenis' distaffe to exchange their lance;

And weare curl'd periwigs, and chalk their face,

And still are poring on their pocket glasse;

Tyr'd with pinn'd ruffs, and fans, and partlet strips,

And buskes and verdingales about their hips:

And tread on corked stilts a prisoner's pace."

Bp. Joseph Hall.

"They brought in fashions strange and new,

With golden garments bright;

The farthingale and mighty ruff,

With gowns of rich delight."

A Warning-Piece to England.

The queen (Anne Neville) of Richard III. seems to have been somewhat

more regally accoutred than those of her royal predecessors to whom we

referred in the last chapter. Among "the stuff delivered to the queen

at her coronation are twenty-seven yards of white cloth of gold for a

kirtle and train, and a mantle of the same, richly furred with

ermine. This was the dress in which she rode in her litter from the

Tower to the palace of Westminster. This was an age of long trains,

and the length was regulated by the rank of the wearer; Anne, for her

whole purple velvet suit, had fifty-six yards. From the entries of

scarlet cloth given to the nobility for mantles on this occasion, we

find that duchesses had thirteen yards, countesses ten, and baronesses

eight."

The costume of Henry VII.'s day differed little from that of Edward

IV., except in the use of shirts bordered with lace and richly trimmed

with ornamental needlework, which continued a long time in vogue

amongst the nobility and gentry.

A slight inspection of the inventories of Henry VIII.'s apparel will

convince us of a truth which we should otherwise, readily have

guessed, viz., that no expense and no splendour were spared in the

"swashing costume" of his day. Its general aspect is too familiar to

us to require much comment. We may remark, however, that four several

acts were passed in his reign for the reformation of apparel, and that

all but the royal family were prohibited from wearing "any cloth of

gold of purpure colour, or silk of the same colour," upon pain of

forfeiture of the same and L20 for every offence. Shirt bands and

ruffles of gold were worn by the privileged, but none under the degree

of knight were permitted to decorate their shirts with silk, gold, or

silver. Henry VIII.'s "knitte gloves of silk" are particularly

referred to, and also his "handkerchers" edged with gold, silver, or

fine needlework. These handkerchiefs, wrought with gold and silver,

were not uncommon in the after-times. In the ballad of George

Barnwell, it is said of Milwood--

"A handkerchief she had,

All wrought with silk and gold,

Which she, to stay her trickling tears,

Before her eyes did hold."

In the east these handkerchiefs are common, and it is still a

favourite occupation of the Egyptian ladies to embroider them.

We are surprised now to find to what minute particulars legal

enactments descended. "No husbandman, shepherd, or common labourer to

any artificer, out of cities or boroughs (having no goods of their own

above the value of L10), shall use or wear any cloth the broad yard

whereof passeth 2_s._ 4_d._, or any hose above the price of 12_d._ the

yard, upon pain of imprisonment in the stocks for three days."

It was in a subsequent reign, that of Mary, that a proclamation was

issued that no man should "weare his shoes above sixe inches _square_

at the toes." We have before seen that the attention of the grave and

learned members of the Senate, the "Conscript Fathers" of England, was

devoted to the due regulation of this interesting part of apparel,

when the shoe-toes were worn so long that they were obliged to be tied

up to the waist ere the happy and privileged wearer could set his foot

on the ground. Now, however, "a change came o'er the spirit of the

day," and it became the duty of those who exercised a paternal

surveillance over the welfare of the community at large to legislate

regarding the _breadth_ of the shoe-toes, that they should not be

above "sixe inches square."

"Great," was anciently the cry--"Great is Diana of the Ephesians;"

but how immeasurably greater and mightier has been, through that and

all succeeding ages, the supreme potentate who with a mesh of flimsy

gauze or fragile silk has constrained nations as by a shackle of iron,

that shadowy, unsubstantial, ever-fleeting, yet ever-exacting

deity--FASHION! At her shrine worship all the nations of the earth.

The savage who bores his nose or tattooes his tawny skin is impelled

by the same power which robes the courtly Eastern in flowing garments;

and the dark-hued beauty who smears herself with blubber is influenced

by the selfsame motive which causes the fair-haired daughter of

England to tint her delicate cheek with the mimic rose.

And it is not merely in the shape and form of garments that this deity

exercises her tyrannic sway, transforming "men into monsters," and

women likewise--if it were possible: her vagaries are infinite and

unaccountable; yet, how unaccountable soever, have ever numberless and

willing votaries. It was once the _fashion_ for people who either were

or fancied themselves to be in love to prove the sincerity of their

passion by the fortitude with which they could bear those extremes of

heat and cold from which unsophisticated _nature_ would shrink. These

"penitents of love," for so the fraternity--and a pretty numerous one

it was--was called, would clothe themselves in the dog-days in the

thickest mantles lined throughout with the warmest fur: when the winds

howled, the hail beat, and snow invested the earth with a freezing

mantle, they wore the thinnest and most fragile garments. It was

forbidden to wear fur on a day of the most piercing cold, or to appear

with a hood, cloak, gloves, or muff. They supposed or pretended that

the deity whom they thus propitiated was LOVE: we aver that the

autocrat under whose irreversible decrees they thus succumbed--was

FASHION.

And, after all, who is this all-powerful genius? What is her

appearance? Whence does she arise? Did she alight from the skies,

while rejoicing stars sang Paeans at her birth? Was she born of the

Sunbeams while a glittering Rainbow cast a halo of glory around her?

or did she spring from Ocean while Nereids revelled around, and

Mermaids strung their Harps with their own golden locks, soft melodies

the while floating along the glistering waves, and echoing from the

Tritons' booming shells beneath? No. Alas, no! She is subtle as the

air; she is evanescent as a sunbeam, and unsubstantial as the ocean's

froth;--but she is none of these. She is--but we will lay aside our

own definition in order that the reader may have the advantage of that

of one of the greatest and wisest of statesmen.

"Quelqu'un qui voudrait un peu etudier d'ou part en premiere source ce

qu'on appelle LES MODES verrait, a notre honte, qu'un petit nombre de

gens, de la plus meprisable espece qui soit dans une ville, laquelle

renferme tout indifferemment dans son sein; pour qui, si nous les

connaissions, nous n'aurions que le mepris qu'on a pour les gens sans

moeurs, ou la pitie qu'on a pour les fous, disposent pourtant de nos

bourses, et nous tiennent assujettis a tous leurs caprices."

Can this indeed be that supereminent deity for whom so "many do

shipwrack their credits," and make themselves "ridiculous apes, or at

best but like the cynnamon-tree, whose bark is more worth than its

body."

"Clothes" writes a venerable historian, "are for necessity; warm

clothes for health; cleanly for decency; lasting for thrift; and rich

for magnificence. Now, there may be a fault in their number, if too

various; making, if too vain; matter, if too costly; and mind of the

wearer, if he takes pride therein.

"_He that is proud of the russling of his silks, like a madman laughs

at the rattling of his fetters._ For, indeed, clothes ought to be our

remembrancers of our lost innocency. Besides, why should any brag of

what's but borrowed? Should the Estrige snatch off the Gallant's

feather, the Beaver his hat, the Goat his gloves, the Sheep his sute,

the Silkworm his stockings, and Neat his shoes (to strip him no

farther than modesty will give leave), he would be left in a cold

condition. And yet 'tis more pardonable to be proud, even of cleanly

rags, than (as many are) of affected slovennesse. The one is proud of

a molehill, the other of a dunghill."

But the worthy Fuller's ideal picture of suitable dress was the very

antipodes of the reality of Elizabeth's day, when that rage for

foreign fashions existed which has since frequently almost inundated

the island, and our ancestors masked themselves

"------in garish gaudery

To suit a fool's far-fetched livery.

A French hood join'd to neck Italian,

The thighs from Germany and breast from Spain.

An Englishman in none, a fool in all,

Many in one, and one in several."

And Shakspeare, who has perhaps suffered no peculiarity of his time

to escape observation, makes Portia satirize this affectation in her

English admirer:--"How oddly he is suited! I think he bought his

doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and

his behaviour everywhere."

A reverend critic thus remarks on the luxurious modes of his time:

"These tender Parnels must have one gown for the day, another for the

night; one long, another short; one for winter, another for summer.

One furred through, another but faced; one for the workday, another

for the holiday. One of this colour, another of that. One of cloth,

another of silk or damask. Change of apparel; one afore dinner,

another at after: one of Spanish fashion, another of Turkey. And to be

brief, never content with enough, but always devising new fashions and

strange. Yea, a ruffian will have more in his ruff and his hose than

he should spend in a year. He which ought to go in a russet coat

spends as much on apparel for him and his wife as his father would

have kept a good house with."

The following is of later date, and seems, somewhat unjustly we think,

to satirize the fair sex alone.

"Why do women array themselves in such fantastical dresses and quaint

devices; with gold, with silver, with coronets, with pendants,

bracelets, earrings, chains, rings, pins, spangles, embroideries,

shadows, rebatoes, versicoloured ribbons, feathers, fans, masks, furs,

laces, tiffanies, ruffs, falls, calls, cuffs, damasks, velvets,

tassels, golden cloth, silver tissue, precious stones, stars,

flowers, birds, beasts, fishes, crisped locks, wigs, painted faces,

bodkins, setting sticks, cork, whalebone, sweet odours, and whatever

else Africa, Asia, and America can produce; flaying their faces to

produce the fresher complexion of a new skin, and using more time in

dressing than Caesar took in marshalling his army,--but that, like

cunning falconers, they wish to spread false lures to catch unwary

larks, and lead by their gaudy baits and dazzling charms the minds of

inexperienced youth into the traps of love?"

Though the costume of Elizabeth's day, especially at the period of her

coronation was, splendid, it had not attained to the ridiculous

extravagance which at a later period elicited the above-quoted

strictures; and we are told that her own taste at an early period of

life was simple and unostentatious. Her dress and appearance are thus

described by Aylmer, Lady Jane Grey's tutor, and afterwards Bishop of

London.

"The king (Henry VIII.) left her rich clothes and jewels; and I know

it to be true, that, in seven years after her father's death, she

never in all that time looked upon that rich attire and precious

jewels but once, and that against her will. And that there never came

gold or stone upon her head, till her sister forced her to lay off her

former soberness, and bear her company in her glittering gayness. And

then she so wore it as every man might see that her body carried that

which her heart misliked. I am sure that her maidenly apparel, which

she used in King Edward's time, made noblemen's daughters and wives to

be ashamed to be dressed and painted like peacocks; being more moved

with her most virtuous example than with all that ever Paul or Peter

wrote touching that matter. Yea, this I know, that a great man's

daughter (Lady Jane Grey) receiving from Lady Mary, before she was

queen, good apparel of tinsel, cloth of gold and velvet, laid on with

parchment-lace of gold, when she saw it, said, 'What shall I do with

it?' 'Marry!' said a gentlewoman, 'wear it.' 'Nay,' quoth she, 'that

were a shame, to follow my Lady Mary against God's Word, and leave my

Lady Elizabeth, which followeth God's Word.' And when all the ladies,

at the coming of the Scots' Queen Dowager, Mary of Guise, (she who

visited England in Edward's time), went with their hair frownsed,

curled, and double-curled, she altered nothing, but kept her old

maidenly shame-facedness."

And there is a print from a portrait of her when young, in which the

hair is without a single ornament, and the whole dress remarkably

simple.

Yet this is the lady whose passion for dress in after life could not

be sated; to whom, or at least before whom (and the Queen was not slow

in appropriating and resenting the hint[109]), Latimer, Bishop of

London, thought it necessary to preach on the vanity of decking the

body too finely; and who finally left behind her a wardrobe containing

three thousand dresses. A modern fair one may wonder how such a

profusion of dresses could be accommodated at all, even in a royal

wardrobe, with fitting respect to the integrity of puffs and

furbelows. But clothes were not formerly kept in drawers, where but

few can be laid with due regard to the safety of each, but were hung

up on wooden pegs, in a room appropriated to the sole purpose of

receiving them; and though such cast-off things as were composed of

rich substances were occasionally _ripped_ for domestic uses (viz.,

mantles for infants, vests for children, and counterpanes for beds),

articles of inferior quality were suffered to _hang by the walls_ till

age and moths had destroyed what pride would not permit to be worn by

servants or poor relations. To this practice, also, does Shakspeare

allude: Imogen exclaims, in 'Cymbeline,'--

"Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion;

And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls,

I must be ripp'd--"

The following regulations may be interesting; and the knowledge of

them will doubtless excite feelings of joy and gratitude in our fair

readers that they are born in an age where "will is free," and the

dustman's wife may, if it so please her, outshine the duchess, without

the terrors of Parliament before her eyes:--

"By the Queene.

"Whereas the Queene's Maiestie, for avoyding of the

great inconvenience that hath growen and dayly doeth

increase within this her Realme, by the inordinate

excesse in Apparel, hath in her Princely wisdome and

care for reformation thereof, by sundry former

Proclamations, straightly charged and commanded those in

Authoritie under her to see her Lawes provided in that

behalfe duely executed; Whereof notwithstanding, partly

through their negligence, and partly by the manifest

contempt and disobedience of the parties offending, no

reformation at all hath followed; Her Maiestie, finding

by experience that by Clemencie, whereunto she is most

inclinable, so long as there is any hope of redresse,

this increasing evill hath not beene cured, hath thought

fit to seeke to remedie the same by correction and

severitie, to be used against both these kindes of

offenders, in regard of the present difficulties of this

time; wherein the decay and lacke of hospitalitie

appeares in the better sort in all countreys,

principally occasioned by the immeasurable charges and

expenses which they are put to in superfluous

apparelling their wives, children, and families, the

confusion also of degrees in all places being great;

where the meanest are as richly apparelled as their

betters, and the pride that such inferior persons take

in their garments, driving many for their maintenance to

robbing and stealing by the hieway, &c. &c.

"Her Maiestie doth straightly charge and command--

"That none under the degree of a Countess wear:

Cloth of gold or silver tissued;

Silke of coulor purple.

"Under the degree of a Baronesse:--

Cloth of golde;

Cloth of silver;

Tinselled satten;

Sattens branched with silver or golde;

Sattens striped with silver or golde;

Taffaties brancht with silver or golde;

Cipresses flourisht with silver or golde;

Networks wrought in silver or golde;

Tabines brancht with silver or golde;

Or any other silke or cloth mixt or embroidered with

pearle, golde, or silver.

"Under the degree of a Baron's eldest sonne's wife:

Any embroideries of golde or silver;

Passemaine lace, or any other lace, mixed with golde,

silver, or silke;

Caules, attires, or other garnishings for the head

trimmed with pearle.

"Under the degree of a Knighte's wife:--

Velvet in gownes, cloakes, savegards, or other uppermost

garments;

Embroidery with silke.

"Under the degree of a Knighte's eldest sonne's wife:--

Velvet in kirtles and petticoates;

Sattens in gownes, cloakes, savegards, or other

uppermost garments.

"Under the degree of a Gentleman's wife, bearing armes:--

Satten in kirtles, }

Damaske, }

Tuft taffetie, } in gownes."

Plaine taffetie, }

Grograine }

Venice and Paris seem to have been the chief sources of fashion; from

these depots of taste were derived the flaunting head-dresses, the

"shiptire," the "tire valiant," &c., which were commonly worn in these

days of gorgeous finery, and which were rendered still more _outre_

and unnatural by the _dyed_ locks which they surmounted. The custom of

dyeing the hair is of great antiquity, and was very prevalent in the

East. Mohammed dyed his hair red; Abu Bekr his successor did the same,

and it is a custom among the Scenite Arabs even to this day.

The ancients often mixed gold dust in their hair, and the Gauls used

to wash the hair with a liquid which had a tendency to redden it. It

was doubtless in personal compliment to Queen Elizabeth, that all the

fashionables of her day dyed their locks of a hue which is generally

considered the reverse of attraction. Periwigs, which were introduced

into England about 1572, were to be had of _all colours_. It is in

allusion to this absurd fashion that Benedick says of the lady whom he

might chuse to marry:--"Her hair shall be of what colour it please

God."

Men first wore wigs in Charles the Second's time; and these were

gradually increased in size, until they reached the acme of their

magnificence in the reign of William and Mary, when not only men, but

even young lads and children were disguised in enormous wigs. And

though in the reign of Queen Anne this latter custom was not so

common, yet the young men had the want of wigs supplied by artificial

curlings, and dressing of the hair, which was then only performed by

the women.

One Bill preserved amongst the Harl. MSS. runs thus:--

"Next door to the Golden Ball, in St. Bride's Lane, Fleet Street,

Lyveth Lidia Beercraft. Who cutteth and curleth ladies, gentlemen, and

children's hair. She sells a fine pomatum, which is mixed with

ingredients of her own making, that if the hair be never so thin, it

makes it grow thick; and if short, it makes it grow long. If any

gentleman's or children's hair be never so lank, she makes it curle in

a little time, and to look like a periwig."

And this, indeed, the looking like a periwig, seems to have been then

the very _beau ideal_ of all beauty and perfection, for another fair

tonsoress advertises to cut and curl hair after the French fashion,

"after so fine a manner, that _you shall not know it to be their own

hair_."

How applicable to these absurdities are the lines of an amiable censor

of a later day!--

"We have run

Through ev'ry change, that Fancy, at the loom

Exhausted, has had genius to supply;

And, studious of mutation still, discard

A real elegance, a little us'd,

For monstrous novelty and strange disguise."

To return to Elizabeth:--

The best known, and most distinguishing characteristic of the costume

of her day was the ruff; which was worn of such enormous size that a

lady in full dress was obliged to feed herself with a spoon two feet

long. In the year 1580, sumptuary laws were published by

proclamation, and enforced with great exactness, by which the ruffs

were reduced to legal dimensions. Extravagant prices were paid for

them, and they were made at first of fine holland, but early in

Elizabeth's reign they began to wear lawn and cambric, which were

brought to England in very small quantities, and sold charily by the

yard or half yard; for there was then hardly one shopkeeper in fifty

who dared to speculate in a whole piece of either. So "strange and

wonderful was this stuff," says Stowe, speaking of lawn, "that

thereupon rose a general scoff or byeword, that shortly they would

wear ruffs of a spider's web." And another difficulty arose; for when

the Queen had ruffs made of this new and beautiful fabric, there was

nobody in England who could starch or stiffen them; but happily Her

Grace found a Dutchwoman possessed of that knowledge which England

could not supply, and "Guillan's wife was the first starcher the Queen

had, as Guillan himself was the first coachman."

"Afterward, in 1564, (16th of Elizabeth), one Mistress Dinghen Vauden

Plasse, born at Teenen in Flanders, daughter of a worshipful knight of

that province, with her husband, came to London, and there professed

herself a starcher, wherein she excelled; unto whom her own nation

presently repaired and employed her, rewarding her very liberally for

her work. Some of the curious ladies of that time, observing the

neatness of the Dutch, and the nicety of their linen, made them

cambric ruffs, and sent them to Mistress Dinghen to starch; soon after

they began to send their daughters and kinswomen to Mistress Dinghen,

to learn how to starch; her usual price was, at that time, 4_l._ or

5_l._ to teach them to starch, and 20_s._ to learn them to see the

starch. This Mrs. Dinghen was the first that ever taught starching in

England."

The RUFFS were adjusted by poking sticks of iron, steel, or silver,

heated in the fire--(probably something answering to our Italian

iron), and in May 1582 a lady of Antwerp, being invited to a wedding,

could not, although she employed two celebrated laundresses, get her

ruff plaited according to her taste, upon which "she fell to sweare

and teare, to curse and ban, casting the ruffes under feete, and

wishing that the devill might take her when shee did wear any

neckerchers againe." This gentleman, whom it is said an invocation

will always summon, now appeared in the likeness of a favoured suitor,

and inquiring the cause of her agitation, he "took in hande the

setting of her ruffes, which he performed to her great contentation

and liking; insomuch, as she, looking herself in a glasse (as the

devill bade her) became greatly enamoured with him. This done, the

young man kissed her, in the doing whereof, he writhed her neck in

sunder, so she died miserably."

But here comes the marvel: four men tried in vain to lift her "fearful

body" when coffined for interment; six were equally unsuccessful;

"whereat the standers-by marvelling, caused the coffin to be opened to

see the cause thereof: where they found the body to be taken away, and

a blacke catte, very leane and deformed, sitting in the coffin,

_setting of great ruffes and frizling of haire_, to the great feare

and woonder of all the beholders."

The large hoop farthingales were worn now, but they were said to be

adopted by the ladies from a laudable spirit of emulation, a

praiseworthy desire on their parts to be of equal standing with the

"nobler sex," who now wore breeches, stuffed with rags or other

materials to such an enormous size, that a bench of extraordinary

dimension was placed round the parliament house, (of which the traces

were visible at a very late period) solely for their accommodation.

Strutt quotes an instance of a man whom the judges accused of wearing

breeches contrary to the law (for a law was made against them): he,

for his excuse, drew out of his slops the contents; at first a pair of

sheets, two table-cloths, ten napkins, four shirts, a brush, a glass,

and a comb; with nightcaps and other things of use, saying, "Your

worship may understand, that because I have no safer a storehouse,

these pockets do serve me for a room to lay up my goods in,--and,

though it be a strait prison, yet it is big enough for them, for I

have many things of value yet within it." His excuse was heartily

laughed at and accepted.

This ridiculous fashion was for a short time disused, but revived

again in 1614. The breeches were then chiefly stuffed with hair. Many

satirical rhymes were written upon them; amongst others, "A lamentable

complaint of the poore Countrye Men agaynst great hose, for the loss

of their cattelles tales." In which occur these:--

"What hurt, what damage doth ensue,

And fall upon the poore,

For want of wool and flaxe, of late,

Whych monstrous hose devoure.

"But haire hath so possess'd, of late,

The bryche of every knave,

That no one beast, nor horse can tell,

Whiche way his taile to save."

Henry VIII. had received a few pairs of silk stockings from Spain, but

knitted silk ones were not known until the second year of Elizabeth,

when her silk-woman, Mrs. Montague, presented to Her Majesty a pair of

black knit silk stockings, for a new-year's gift, with which she was

so much pleased that she desired to know if the donor could not help

her to any more, to which Mrs. Montague answered, "I made them

carefully on purpose for your Majestie; and seeing they please you so

well, I will presently set more in hand." "Do so (said the Queen), for

I like silk stockings so well, that I will not henceforth wear any

more cloth hose." These shortly became common; though even over so

simple an article as a stocking, Fashion asserted her supremacy, and

at a subsequent period they were two yards wide at the top, and made

fast to the "petticoat breeches," by means of strings through eyelet

holes.

But Elizabeth's predilection for rich attire is well known, and if the

costume of her day was fantastic, it was still magnificent. A suit

trimmed with sables was considered the richest dress worn by men; and

so expensive was this fur, that, it is said a thousand ducats were

sometimes given for "a face of sables." It was towards the close of

her reign that the celebrated Gabrielle d'Estrees wore on a festive

occasion a dress of black satin, so ornamented with pearls and

precious stones, that she could scarcely move under its weight. She

had a handkerchief, for the embroidering of which she engaged to pay

1900 crowns. And such it was said was the influence of her example in

Paris, that the ladies ornamented even their shoes with jewels.

Yet even this costly magnificence was afterwards surpassed by that of

Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, with whom it was common, even at an

ordinary dancing, to have his clothes trimmed with great diamond

buttons, and to have diamond hatbands, cockades, and earrings, to be

yoked with great and manifold ropes and knots of pearl; in short, to

be manacled, fettered, and imprisoned in jewels: insomuch that at his

going to Paris in 1625, he had twenty-seven suits of clothes made, the

richest that embroidery, lace, silk, velvet, gold, and gems could

contribute; one of which was a white uncut velvet set all over, both

suit and cloak, with diamonds valued at fourscore thousand pounds,

besides a great feather, stuck all over with diamonds, as were also

his sword, girdle, hatband, and spurs.[110]

It would but weary our readers were we to dwell on the well-known

peculiarities of the "Cavalier and Roundhead" days; and tell how the

steeple-crowned hat was replaced at the Restoration by the plumed and

jewelled velvet; the forlorn, smooth, methodistical pate, by the

curled ringlets and flowing lovelock; the sober, sombre, "sad"

coloured garment, with its starched folds, by the gay, varied, flowing

drapery of all hues. Then, how the plume of feathers gave way to the

simpler band and buckle, and the thick large curling wig and full

ruffle, to the bagwig, the tie, and stock.

The dashing cloak and slashed sleeves were succeeded by the coat of

ample dimensions, and the waistcoat with interminable pockets resting

on the knees; the "breeches" were in universal use, though they were

not of the universal "black" which Cowper immortalises; but "black

breeches" and "powder" have had their reign, and are succeeded by the

"inexpressible" costume of the present day. We will conclude a

chapter, which we fear to have spun out tediously, by Lady Morgan's

animated account of the introduction, in France, of that

universally-coveted article of dress--a Cashmir shawl:--

"While partaking of a sumptuous collation (at Rouen), the conversation

naturally turned on the splendid views which the windows commanded,

and on the subjects connected with their existence. The flocks, which

were grazing before us had furnished the beautiful shawls which hung

on the backs of the chairs occupied by our fair companions, and which

might compete with the turbans of the Grand Signor. It would be

difficult now to persuade a Parisian _petite maitresse_ that there was

a time when French women of fashion could exist without a cashmir, or

that such an indispensable article of the toilet and _sultan_ was

unknown even to the most elegant. 'The first cashemir that appeared in

France,' said Madame D'Aubespine, (for an educated French woman has

always something worth hearing to say on all subjects,) 'was sent over

by Baron de Tott, then in the service of the Porte, to Madame de

Tesse. When they were produced in her society, every body thought them

very fine, but nobody knew what use to make of them. It was determined

that they would make pretty _couvre-pieds_ and veils for the cradle;

but the fashion wore out with the shawls, and ladies returned to their

eider-down quilts.'

"Monsieur Ternaux observed that 'though the produce of the Cashmerian

looms had long been known in Europe, they did not become a vogue until

after Napoleon's expedition to Egypt; and that even then they took, in

the first instance, but slowly.' The shawl was still a novelty in

France, when Josephine, as yet but the wife of the First Consul, knew

not how to drape its elegant folds, and stood indebted to the

_brusque_ Rapp for the grace with which she afterwards wore it.

"'Permettez que je vous fasse l'observation,' said Rapp, as they were

setting off for the opera; 'que votre schall n'est pas mis avec cette

grace qui vous est habituelle.'

"Josephine laughingly let him arrange it in the manner of the Egyptian

women. This impromptu toilette caused a little delay, and the infernal

machine exploded in vain!

"What destinies waited upon the arrangement of this cashemir! A moment

sooner or later, and the shawl might have given another course to

events, which would have changed the whole face of Europe."[111]

The Empress Josephine (says her biographer) had quite a passion for

shawls, and I question whether any collection of them was ever as

valuable as hers. At Navarre she had one hundred and fifty, all

extremely beautiful and high-priced. She sent designs to

Constantinople, and the shawls made after these patterns were as

beautiful as they were valuable. Every week M. Lenormant came to

Navarre, and sold her whatever he could obtain that was curious in

this way. I have seen white shawls covered with roses, bluebells,

perroquets, peacocks, &c., which I believe were not to be met with any

where else in Europe; they were valued at 15,000 and 20,000 francs

each.

The shawls were at length sold _by auction_ at Malmaison, at a rate

much below their value. All Paris went to the sale.

FOOTNOTES:

[109] "Her Majesty told the ladies, that if the Bishop held more

discourse on such matters, she would fit him for heaven; but he should

walk thither without a staff, and leave his mantle behind him."

[110] Life of Raleigh, by Oldys.

[111] Lady Morgan's France in 1829-30.

CHAPTER XV.

THE FIELD OF THE CLOTH OF GOLD.

"Where are the proud and lofty dames,

Their jewell'd crowns, their gay attire,

Their odours sweet?

Where are the love-enkindled flames,

The bursts of passionate desire

Laid at their feet?

Where are the songs, the troubadours,

The music which delighted then?--

It speaks no more.

Where is the dance that shook the floors,

And all the gay and laughing train,

And all they wore?

"The royal gifts profusely shed,

The palaces so proudly built,

With riches stor'd;

The roof with shining gold o'erspread,

The services of silver gilt,

The secret hoard,

The Arabian pards, the harness bright,

The bending plumes, the crowded mews,

The lacquey train,

Where are they?--where!--all lost in night,

And scatter'd as the early dews

Across the plain."

Bowring's Anc. Span. Romances.

Romance and song have united to celebrate the splendours of the "Field

of the Cloth of Gold." The most scrupulously minute and faithful of

recorders has detailed day by day, and point by point, its varied and

showy routine, and every subsequent historian has borrowed from the

pages of the old chronicler; and these dry details have been so

expanded by the breath of Fancy, and his skeleton frame has been so

fleshed by the magical drapery of talent, that there seems little left

on which the imagination can dilate, or the pen expatiate.

The astonishing impulse which has in various ways within the last few

years been given to the searching of ancient records, and the

development of hitherto obscure and comparatively uninteresting

details, and vesting them in an alluring garb, has made us as familiar

with the domestic records of the eighth Henry, as in our school-days

we were with the orthodox abstract of necessary historical

information,--that "Henry the Eighth ascended the throne in the 18th

year of his age;" that "he became extremely corpulent;" that "he

married six wives, and beheaded two." Not even affording gratuitously

the codicil which the talent of some writer hath educed--that "if

Henry the Eighth had not beheaded his wives, there would have been no

impeachment on his gallantry to the fair sex."

But in describing this, according to some, "the most magnificent

spectacle that Europe ever beheld," and to others, "a heavy mass of

allegory and frippery," historians have been contented to pourtray the

outward features of the gorgeous scene, and have slightly, if at all,

touched on the contending feelings which were veiled beneath a broad

though thin surface of concord and joy. Truly, it were a task of deep

interest, even slightly to picture them, or to attempt to enter into

the feelings of the chief actors on that field.

First and foremost, as the guiding spirit of the whole, as the mighty

artificer of that pageant on which, however gaudy in its particulars

the fates of Europe were supposed to depend, and the earnest eyes of

Europe were certainly fixed--comes WOLSEY.--Gorgeously habited

himself, and the burnished gold of his saddle cloth only partially

relieved by the more sombre crimson velvet; nay, his very shoes

gleaming with brilliants, and himself withal so lofty in bearing, of

so noble a presence, that this very magnificence seemed but a natural

appendage, Wolsey took his lofty way from monarch to monarch; and so

well did he become his dignity, that none but kings, and such kings as

Henry and Francis, would have drawn the eyes of the myriad spectators

from himself. And surely he was now happy; surely his ambition was now

gratified to the uttermost; now, in the eyes of all Europe did the two

proudest of her princes not merely associate with him almost as an

equal, but openly yield to his suggestions--almost bow to his

decisions. No--loftily as he bore himself, courtly as was his

demeanour, rapid and commanding as was his eloquence, and influential

as seemed his opinions on all and every one around--the cardinal had a

mind ill at ease, as, despite his self-control, was occasionally

testified by his contracted brow and thoughtful aspect. After exerting

all the might of his mighty influence, and for his own aggrandisement,

to procure this meeting between the two potentates, he had at the

last moment seen fit to alter his policy. He had sold himself to a

higher bidder; he had pledged himself to Charles in the very teeth of

his solemn engagement to Francis. Even whilst celebrating this league

of amity, he was turning in his own mind the means by which to rupture

it; and was yet withal, nervously fearful of any accident which should

prematurely break it, or lead to a discovery of his own

faithlessness.--So much for his enjoyment!

Our KING HENRY was all delight, and eager impetuous enjoyment. He had

not outlived the good promise of his youth; nor had his foibles

become, by indulgence, vices. He loved to see all around him happy; he

loved, more especially, to make them so. He delighted in all the

exercises of the field; he was unrivalled in the tilt and the

tournament; and when engaged in them forgot kings and kingdoms. His

vanity, outrageous as it was, hardly sat ungracefully on him, so much

was it elevated then by buoyant good humour--so much was it softened

at that time by his noble presence, his manly grace, his kingly

accomplishments, and his regal munificence. The stern and selfish

tyrant whom one shudders to think upon, was then only "bluff King

Hal," loving and beloved, courted and caressed by an empire. He gave

himself up to the gaieties of the time without a care for the present,

a thought for the future. Could he have glanced dimly into that

future! But he could not, and he was happy.

FRANCIS was admirably qualified to grace this scene, and to enjoy it,

as probably he did enjoy it, vividly. Yet was this gratification by no

means unalloyed. His gentle manly nature was irritated at certain

stipulations of Henry's advisers, by which their most trivial

intercourse was subjected to specific regulations. There were recorded

instances enough of treacherous advantages taken to justify fully this

conduct on the part of Henry's ministers; but Francis felt its

injustice, as applied to himself, and at that time, made use of a

generous and well-known stratagem to convince others. But in the midst

of his enjoyments he had misgivings on his mind of a more serious

nature, caused by the Emperor's recent visit to Dover. These

misgivings were increased by the meeting between Henry and Charles at

Gravelines; and too surely confirmed by quickly-following

circumstances.

The gentle and good KATHARINE of England, and the equally amiable

Queen CLAUDE, the carefully-trained stepdaughter of the noble and

admirable Anne of Bretagne, probably derived their chief gratification

here from the pleasure of seeing their husbands amicable and happy.

For queens though they were, their happiness was in domestic life, and

their chief empire was over the hearts of those domesticated with

them.

Not so the DOWAGER QUEEN of France--the lively, and graceful, and

beautiful Duchess of Suffolk; for though very fond of her royal

brother, and devoted to her gallant husband, she had yet an eye and an

ear for all the revelries around, and had a radiant glance and a

beaming smile for all who crowded to do homage to her charms. And yet

her heart must have been somewhat hard--and that we know it was

not--if she could have inhaled the air of France, or trod its sunny

soil, without recollections which must have dimmed her eye at the

thoughts of the past, even whilst breathing a thanksgiving for the

present. Somewhat less than five years ago, she had been taken thither

a weeping bride; youth, nature, inclination, nay, hope itself,

sacrificed to that expediency by which the actions of monarchs are

regulated. We are accustomed to read these things so much as mere

historical memoranda, to look upon them in their cold unvarnished

simplicity of detail, like the rigid outlines of stiff old portraits

which we can scarcely suppose were ever meant to represent living

flesh and blood--that it requires a strong effort to picture these

circumstances to our eyes as actually occurring.

In considering the state policy of the thing--and the apparent

national advantage of the King of England's sister being married to

the King of France--we forget that this King of England's sister was a

fair young creature, with warm heart, gushing affections, and passions

and feelings just opening in all the vividness of early womanhood; and

that she was condemned to marry a sickly, querulous, elderly man, who

began his loving rule by dismissing at once, even while she was "a

stranger in a foreign land," every endeared friend and attendant who

had accompanied her thither; and that, worse than all, her young

affections had been sought and gained by a noble English gentleman,

the favourite of the English king, and the pride of his Court.

Surely her lot was hard; and well might she weepingly exclaim, "Where

is now my hope?" Little could she suppose (for Louis, though infirm,

was not aged) that three or four short months would see her not only

at liberty from her enforced vows, but united to the man of her heart.

Must there not, while watching the tilting of her graceful and gallant

husband, must there not have been melancholy in her mirth?--must there

not, in the keen encounter of wits during the banquet or the

ball--must there not have mingled method with her madness?

Who shall record, or even refer to the hopes, and feelings, and

wishes, and thoughts, and reflections of the thousands congregated

thither; each one with feelings as intense, with hopes as individually

important as those which influenced the royal King of France, or the

majestic monarch of England! The loftiest of Christendom's knights,

the loveliest of Christendom's daughters were assembled here; and the

courteous Bayard, the noble Tremouille, the lofty Bourbon, felt

inspired more gallantly, if possible, than was even their wont, when

contending in all love and amity with the proudest of England's

champions, in presence of the fairest of her blue-eyed maidens,--the

noblest of her courtly dames.

Nor were the lofty and noble alone there congregated. After the

magnificent structure for the king and court, after every thing in the

shape of a tenement in, out, or about the little town of Guisnes, and

the neighbouring hamlets, were occupied, two thousand eight hundred

tents were set up on the side of the English alone. No noble or baron

would be absent; but likewise knights, and squires, and yeomen flocked

to the scene: citizens and city wives disported their richest silks

and their heaviest chains; jews went for gain, pedlars for knavery,

tradespeople for their craft, rogues for mischief. Then there were

"vagaboundes, plowmen, laborers, wagoners, and beggers, that for

drunkennes lay in routes and heapes, so great resorte thether came,

that bothe knightes and ladies that wer come to see the noblenes, were

faine to lye in haye and strawe, and hold theim thereof highly

pleased."

The accommodations provided for the king and privileged members of his

court on this occasion were more than magnificent; a vast and splendid

edifice that seemed to be endued with the magnificence, and to rise

almost with the celerity of that prepared by the slaves of the lamp,

where the richest tapestry and silk embroidery--the costliest produce

of the most accomplished artisans, were almost unnoticed amid the gold

and jewellery by which they were surrounded--where all that art could

produce, or riches devise had been lavished--all this has been often

described. And the tent itself, the nucleus of the show, the point

where the "brother" kings were to confer, was hung round with cloth of

gold: the posts, the cones, the cords, the tents, were all of the same

precious metal, which glittered here in such excessive profusion as to

give that title to the meeting which has superseded all others--"The

Field of the Cloth of Gold."

This gaudy pageant was the prelude to an era of great interest, for

while dwelling on the "galanty shew" we cannot forget that now reigned

Solyman the magnificent, and that this was the age of Leo the Tenth;

that Charles the Fifth was now beginning his influential course; that

a Sir Thomas More graced England; and that in Germany there was "one

Martin Luther," who "belonged to an order of strolling friars." Under

Leo's munificent encouragement, Rafaello produced those magnificent

creations which have been the inspiration of subsequent ages; and at

home, under Wolsey's enlightened patronage, colleges were founded,

learning was encouraged, and the College of Physicians first

instituted in 1518, found in him one of its warmest advocates and

firmest supporters.

A modern writer gives the following amusing picture of part of the

bustle attendant on the event we are considering. "The palace (of

Westminster) and all its precincts became the elysium of tailors,

embroiderers, and sempstresses. There might you see many a shady form

gliding about from apartment to apartment, with smiling looks and

extended shears, or armed with ell-wands more potent than Mercury's

rod, driving many a poor soul to perdition, and transforming his

goodly acres into velvet suits, with tags of cloth of gold. So

continual were the demands upon every kind of artisan, that the

impossibility of executing them threw several into despair. One tailor

who is reported to have undertaken to furnish fifty embroidered suits

in three days, on beholding the mountain of gold and velvet that

cumbered his shop-board, saw, like Brutus, the impossibility of

victory, and, with Roman fortitude, fell on his own shears. Three

armourers are said to have been completely melted with the heat of

their furnaces; and an unfortunate goldsmith swallowed molten silver

to escape the persecutions of the day.

"The road from London to Canterbury was covered during one whole week

with carts and waggons, mules, horses, and soldiers; and so great was

the confusion, that marshals were at length stationed to keep the

whole in order, which of course increased the said confusion a hundred

fold. So many were the ships passing between Dover and Calais, that

the historians affirm they jostled each other on the road like a herd

of great black porkers.

"The King went from station to station like a shepherd, driving all

the better classes of the country before him, and leaving not a single

straggler behind."

Though we do not implicitly credit every point of this humorous

statement, we think a small portion of description from the old

chronicler Hall (we will really inflict _only_ a small portion on our

readers) will justify a good deal of it; but more especially it will

enlighten us as to some of the elaborate conceits of the day, in

which, it seems, the needle was as fully occupied as the pen.

Indeed, what would the "Field of the Cloth of Gold" have been without

the skill of the needlewoman? _Would it have been at all?_

"The Frenche kyng sette hymself on a courser barded, covered with

purple sattin, broched with golde, and embraudered with corbyns

fethers round and buckeled; the fether was blacke and hached with

gold. Corbyn is a rauen, and the firste silable of corbyn is _Cor_,

whiche is a harte, a penne in English, is a fether in Frenche, and

signifieth pain, and so it stode; this fether round was endles, the

buckels wherwith the fethers wer fastened, betokeneth sothfastnes,

thus was the devise, _harte fastened in pain endles, or pain in harte

fastened endles_.

"Wednesdaie the 13 daie of June, the twoo hardie kynges armed at all

peces, entered into the feld right nobly appareled, the Frenche kyng

and all his parteners of chalenge were arraied in purple sattin,

broched with golde and purple velvet, embrodered with litle rolles of

white sattin wherein was written _quando_, all bardes and garmentes

wer set full of the same, and all the residue where was no rolles,

were poudered and set with the letter ell as thus, L, whiche in

Frenche is she, which was interpreted to be _quando elle_, when she,

and ensuyng the devise of the first daie it signifieth together,

_harte fastened in pain endles, when she_.

"The Frenche kyng likewise armed at al pointes mounted on a courser

royal, all his apparel as wel bardes as garmentes were purple velvet,

entred the one with the other, embrodred ful of litle bookes of white

satten, and in the bokes were written _a me_; aboute the borders of

the bardes and the borders of the garmentes, a chaine of blewe like

iron, resemblyng the chayne of a well or prison chaine, whiche was

enterpreted to be _liber_, a booke; within this boke was written as is

sayed, _a me_, put these two together, and it maketh _libera me_; the

chayne betokeneth prison or bondes, and so maketh together in

Englishe, _deliver me of {bondes}_; put to {the} reason, the fyrst

day, second day, and third day of chaunge, for he chaunged but the

second day, and it is _hart fastened in paine endles, when she

deliuereth me not of bondes_; thus was thinterpretation made, but

whether it were so in all thinges or not I may not say."

The following animated picture from an author already quoted, has been

drawn of this spirit-stirring scene:--

"Upon a large open green, that extended on the outside of the walls,

was to be seen a multitude of tents of all kinds and colours, with a

multitude of busy human beings, employed in raising fresh pavilions on

every open space, or in decorating those already spread with

streamers, pennons, and banners of all the bright hues under the sun.

Long lines of horses and mules, loaded with armour or baggage, and

ornamented with gay ribbons to put them in harmony with the scene,

were winding about all over the plain, some proceeding towards the

town, some seeking the tents of their several lords, while mingled

amongst them, appeared various bands of soldiers, on horseback and on

foot, with the rays of the declining sun catching upon the heads of

their bills and lances; and together with the white cassock and broad

red cross, marking them out from all the other objects. Here and

there, too, might be seen a party of knights and gentlemen cantering

over the plain, and enjoying the bustle of the scene, or standing in

separate groups, issuing their orders for the erection and garnishing

of their tents; while couriers, and poursuivants, and heralds, in all

their gay dresses, mingled with mule drivers, lacqueys, and peasants,

armourers, pages, and tent stretchers, made up the living part of the

landscape.

"The sounding of the trumpets to horse, the shouts of the various

leaders, the loud cries of the marshals and heralds, and the roaring

of artillery from the castle, as the king put his foot in the stirrup,

all combined to make one general outcry rarely equalled. Gradually the

tumult subsided, gradually also the confused assemblage assumed a

regular form. Flags, and pennons, and banderols, embroidered banners,

and scutcheons; silver pillars, and crosses, and crooks, ranged

themselves in long line; and the bright procession, an interminable

stream of living gold, began to wind across the plain. First came

about five hundred of the gayest and wealthiest gentlemen of England,

below the rank of baron; squires, knights, and bannerets, rivalling

each other in the richness of their apparel and the beauty of their

horses; while the pennons of the knights fluttered above their heads,

marking the place of the English chivalry. Next appeared the proud

barons of the realm, each with his banner borne before him, and

followed by a custrel with the shield of his arms. To these again

succeeded the bishops, not in the simple robes of the Protestant

clergy, but in the more gorgeous habits of the Church of Rome; while

close upon their steps rode the higher nobility, surrounding the

immediate person of the king, and offering the most splendid mass of

gold and jewels that the summer sun ever shone upon.

"Slowly the procession moved forward to allow the line of those on

foot to keep an equal pace. Nor did this band offer a less gay and

pleasing sight than the cavalcade, for here might be seen the

athletic forms of the sturdy English yeomanry, clothed in the various

splendid liveries of their several lords, with the family cognisance

embroidered on the bosom and arm, and the banners and banderols of

their particular houses carried in the front of each company. Here

also was to be seen the picked guard of the King of England,

magnificently dressed for the occasion, with the royal banner carried

in their centre by the deputy standard bearer, and the banner of their

company by their own ancient. In the rear of all, marshalled by

officers appointed for the purpose, came the band of those whose rank

did not entitle them to take place in the cavalcade, but who had

sufficient interest at court to be admitted to the meeting. Though of

an inferior class, this company was not the least splendid in the

field; for here were all the wealthy tradesmen of the court, habited

in many a rich garment, furnished by the extravagance of those that

rode before; and many a gold chain hung round their necks, that not

long ago had lain in the purse of some prodigal customer."

But we cease, being fully of opinion with the old chronicler that "to

tell the apparel of the ladies, their riche attyres, their sumptuous

juelles, their diversities of beauties, and their goodly behaviour

from day to day sithe the fyrst metyng, I assure you ten mennes wittes

can scarce declare it."

And in a few days, a few short days, all was at an end; and the pomp

and the pageantry, the mirth and the revelry, was but as a dream--a

most bitter, indeed, and painful dream to hundreds who had bartered

away their substance for the sake of a transient glitter:

"We seken fast after felicite

But we go wrong ful often trewely,

Thus may we sayen alle."

Homely indeed, after the paraphernalia of the "Field of the Cloth of

Gold," would appear the homes of England on the return of their

masters. For though the nobles had begun to remove the martial fronts

of their castles, and endeavoured to render them more commodious, yet

in architecture the nation participated neither the spirit nor the

taste of its sovereign. The mansions of the gentlemen were, we are

told, still sordid; the huts of the peasantry poor and wretched. The

former were generally thatched buildings composed of timber, or, where

wood was scarce, of large posts inserted in the earth, filled up in

the interstices with rubbish, plastered within, and covered on the

outside with coarse clay. The latter were light frames, prepared in

the forest at small expense, and when erected, probably covered with

mud. In cities the houses were constructed mostly of the same

materials, for bricks were still too costly for general use; and the

stories seem to have projected forward as they rose in height,

intercepting sunshine and air from the streets beneath. The apartments

were stifling, lighted by lattices, so contrived as to prohibit the

occasional and salutary admission of external air. The floors were of

clay, strewed with rushes, which often remained for years a receptacle

of every pollution.[112]

In an inventory of the goods and chattels of Sir Andrew Foskewe,

Knight, dated in the 30th year of King Henry the Eighth, are the

following furnitures. We select the hall and the best parlour, in

which he entertained company, first premising that he possessed a

large and noble service of rich plate worth an amazing sum, and so

much land as proved him to be a wealthy man:--

"The hall.--A hangin of greine say, bordered with darneng (or

needlework); item a grete side table, with standinge tressels; item a

small joyned cuberde, of waynscott, and a short piece of counterfett

carpett upon it; item a square cuberde, and a large piece of

counterfett wyndowe, and five formes, &c.

"Perler.--Imprim., a hangynge of greene say and red, panede; item a

table with two tressels, and a greyne verders carpet upon it; three

greyne verders cushyns; a joyned cupberd, and a carpett upon it; a

piece of verders carpet in one window, and a piece of counterfeit

carpett in the other; one Flemishe chaire; four joyned stooles; a

joyned forme; a wyker skryne; two large awndyerns, a fyer forke, a

fyer pan, a payer of tonges; item a lowe joyned stole; two joyned

foote-stoles; a rounde table of cipress; and a piece of counterfeitt

carpett upon it; item a paynted table (or picture) of the Epiphany of

our Lord."[113]

But notwithstanding this apparent meagreness of accommodation, luxury

in architecture was making rapid strides in the land. Wolsey was as

magnificent in this taste as in others, as Hampton Court, "a

residence," says Grotius, "befitting rather a god than a king," yet

remains to attest. The walls of his chambers at York Place,

(Whitehall,) were hung with cloth of gold, and tapestry still more

precious, representing the most remarkable events in sacred

history--for the easel was then subordinate to the loom.

The subjects of the tapestry in York Place consisted, we are told, of

triumphs, probably Roman; the story of Absalom, bordered with the

cardinal's arms; the Petition of Esther, and the Honouring of

Mordecai; the History of Sampson, bordered with the cardinal's arms;

the History of Solomon; the History of Susannah and the Elders,

bordered with the cardinal's arms; the History of Jacob, also

bordered; Holofernes and Judith, bordered; the Story of Joseph, of

David, of St. John the Baptist; the History of the Virgin; the Passion

of Christ; the Worthies; the Story of Nebuchadnezzar; a Pilgrimage;

all bordered.

This place--Whitehall--Henry decorated magnificently; erected splendid

gateways, and threw a gallery across to the Park, where he erected a

tilt-yard, with all royal and courtly appurtenances, and converted the

whole into a royal manor. This was not until after fire had ravaged

the ancient, time-honoured, and kingly palace of Westminster, a place

which perhaps was the most truly regal of any which England ever

beheld. Recorded as a royal residence as early--almost--as there is

record of the existence of our venerable abbey; inhabited by Knute the

Dane; rebuilt by Edward the Confessor; remodelled by Henry the Third;

receiving lustre from the residence, and ever-added splendour from

the liberality of a long line of illustrious monarchs, it had obtained

a hold on the mind which is even yet not passed away, although the

ravages of time, and of fire, and the desecrations of subsequent ages,

have scarcely left stone or token of the original structure.

After the fire, however, Henry forsook it. He it was who first built

St. James's Palace on the site of an hospital which had formerly stood

there. He also possessed, amongst other royal retreats, Havering

Bower, so called from the legend of St. Edward receiving a ring from

St. John the Evangelist on this spot by the hands of a pilgrim from

the Holy Land; which legend is represented at length in Westminster

Abbey; Eltham, in Kent, where the king frequently passed his

Christmas; Greenwich, where Elizabeth was born; and Woodstock,

celebrated for

"the unhappy fate

Of Rosamond, who long ago

Prov'd most unfortunate."

The ancient palace of the Savoy had changed its destination as a royal

residence only in his father's time. With the single exception of

Westminster--if indeed that--the most magnificent palace which the

hand of liberality ever raised, which the finger of taste ever

embellished. Various indeed have been the changes to which it has been

doomed, and now not one stone remains on another to say that such

things have been. Now--of the thousands who traverse the spot, scarce

one, at long and far distant intervals, may glance at the dim memories

of the past, to think of the plumed knights and high-born dames who

revelled in its halls; the crowned and anointed kings who, monarch or

captive, trod its lofty chambers; the gleaming warriors who paced its

embattled courts; the gracious queen who caused its walls to echo the

sounds of joy; the subtle heads which plodded beneath its gloomy

shades; the unhappy exiles who found a refuge within its dim recesses;

or[114] the lame, the sick, the impotent, who in the midst of

suffering blessed the home that sheltered them, the hands that

ministered to their woes.

No. The majestic walls of the Savoy are in the dust, and not merely

all trace, but all idea of its radiant gardens and sunny bowers, its

sparkling fountains and verdant lawns, is lost even to the imagination

in the matter-of-fact, business-like demeanour of the myriads of

plodders who are ever traversing the dusty and bustling environs of

Waterloo-bridge. In our closets we may perchance compel the unromantic

realities of the present to yield beneath the brilliant imaginations

of the past; but on the spot itself it is impossible.

Who can stand in Wellington-street, on the verge of Waterloo-bridge,

and fancy it a princely mansion from the lofty battlements of which a

royal banner is flying, while numerous retainers keep watch below?

Probably the sounds of harp and song may be heard as lofty nobles and

courtly dames are seen to tread the verdant alleys and flower-bestrewn

paths which lead to the bright and glancing river, where a costly

barge (from which the sounds proceed) is waiting its distinguished

freight. Ever and anon are these seen gliding along in the sunbeams,

or resting at the avenue leading to one or other of the noble mansions

with which the bright strand is sprinkled.

Of these, perhaps, the most gorgeous is York-place, while farthest in

the distance rise the fortified walls of the old palace of

Westminster, inferior only to those of the ancient abbey, which are

seen to rise, dimmed, yet distinct, in the soft but glowing haze cast

around by the setting sun.

And that building seen on the opposite side of the river? Strangely

situated it seems, and in a swamp, and with none of the felicity of

aspect appertaining to its loftier neighbour, the Savoy. Yet its lofty

tower, its embattled gateway, seem to infer some important

destination. And such it had. The unassuming and unattractively placed

edifice has outlived its more aspiring neighbours; and while the

stately palace of the Savoy is extinct, and the slight remains of

Westminster are desecrated, the time-honoured walls of Lambeth yet

shelter the head of learning and dignify the location in which they

were reared.

Eastward of our position the city looks dim and crowded; but, with the

exception of the sprinkled mansions to which we have alluded, there is

little to break the natural characteristics of the scene between

Temple-bar and the West Minster. The hermitage and hospital on the

site of Northumberland House harmonise well with the scene; the little

cluster of cottages at Charing has a rural aspect; and that beautiful

and touching memento of unfailing love and undiminished

affection--that tribute to all that was good and excellent in

woman--the Cross, which, formed of the purest and, as yet, unsoiled

white marble, raised its emblem of faith and hope, gleaming like

silver in the brilliant sky--that--would that we had it still!

Somewhat nearer, the May-pole stands out in gay relief from the woods

which envelop the hills northward, where yet the timid fawn could

shelter, and the fearful hare forget its watch; where yet perchance

the fairies held their revels when the moon shone bright; where they

filled to the brim the "fairy-cups" and pledged each other in dew;

where they played at "hide and seek" in the harebells, ran races in

the branches of the trees, and nestled on the leaves, on which they

glittered like diamonds; where they launched their tiny barks on the

sparkling rivulets, breathing ere morning's dawn on the flowers to

awaken them, tinting the gossamer's web with silver, and scattering

pearls over the drops of dew.

Closer around, among meadows and pastures, are all sounds and emblems

of rural life; which as yet are but agreeably varied, not ruthlessly

annihilated, by the encroachments of population and the increase of

trade.

Truly this is a difficult picture to realise on Waterloo-bridge, yet

is it nevertheless a tolerably correct one of this portion of our

metropolis at the time of "The Field of the Cloth of Gold."

FOOTNOTES:

[112] Henry.

[113] Strutt's Manners and Customs.

[114] It was at length converted into an hospital.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE NEEDLE.

"A grave Reformer of old Rents decay'd."

J. Taylor.

"His garment--

With thornes together pind and patched was."

Faerie Queene.

_Hodge._ "Tush, tush, her neele, her neele, her neele, man; neither

flesh nor fish,

A lytle thing with an hole in the ende, as bright as any

syller,

Small, long, sharp at the point, and straight as any piller."

_Diccon._ "I know not what it is thou menest, thou bringst me more in

doubt."

_Hodge._ "Knowest not what Tom tailor's man sits broching thro' a

clout?

A neele, a neele, a neele, my gammer's neele is gone."

Gammer Gurton's Needle.

It is said in the old chronicles that previous to the arrival of Anne

of Bohemia, Queen of Richard the Second, the English ladies fastened

their robes with skewers; but as it is known that pins were in use

among the early British, since in the barrows that have been opened

numbers of "neat and efficient" ivory pins were found to have been

used in arranging the grave-clothes, it is probable that this remark

is unfounded.

The pins of a later date than the above were made of boxwood, bone,

ivory, and some few of silver. They were larger than those of the

present day, which seem to have been unknown in England till about the

middle of the fifteenth century. In 1543, however, the manufacture of

brass pins had become sufficiently important to claim the attention of

the legislature, an Act having been passed that year by which it was

enacted, "That no person shall put to sale any pins, but only such as

shall be double headed and have the head soldered fast to the shank,

the pins well smoothed, and the shank well sharpened."

Gloucestershire is noted for the number of its pin manufactories. They

were first introduced in that county, in 1626, by John Tilsby; and it

is said that at this time they employ 1,500 hands, and send up to the

metropolis upwards of L20,000 of pins annually.

Our motto says, however, that his garment

"With thornes together pind and _patched_ was;"

and a French writer says, that before the invention of steel needles

people were obliged to make use of thorns, fish bones, &c., but that

since "l'etablissement des societes, ce petit outil est devenu d'un

usage indispensable dans une infinite d'arts et d'occasions."

He proceeds:--"De toutes les manieres d'attacher l'un a l'autre deux

corps flexibles, celle qui se pratique avec l'aiguille est une des

plus universellement repandues: aussi distingue-t-on un grand nombre

d'aiguilles differentes. On a les aiguilles a coudre, ou de tailleur;

les aiguilles de chirurgie, d'artillerie, de bonnetier, ou faiseur de

bas au metier, d'horloger, de cirier, de drapier, de gainier, de

perruquier, de coiffeuse, de faiseur de coiffe a perruques, de piqueur

d'etuis, tabatieres, et autres semblables ouvrages; de sellier,

d'ouvrier en soie, de brodeur, de tapissier, de chandelier,

d'emballeur; a matelas, a empointer, a tricoter, a enfiler, a presser,

a brocher, a relier, a natter, a boussole ou aimantee, &c. &c."

Needles are said to have been first made in England by a native of

India, in 1545, but the art was lost at his death; it was, however,

recovered by Christopher Greening, in 1560, who was settled with his

three children, Elizabeth, John, and Thomas, by Mr. Damar, ancestor of

the present Lord Milton, at Long Crendon, in Bucks, where the

manufactory has been carried on from that time to the present

period.[115]

Thus our readers will remark, that until far on in the sixteenth

century, there was not a needle to be had but of foreign manufacture;

and bearing this circumstance in mind, they will be able to enter more

fully into the feelings of those who set such inestimable value on a

needle. And, indeed, _if_ all we are told of them be true, needles

could not be too highly esteemed. For instance, we were told of an

old woman who had used one needle so long and so constantly for

mending stockings, that at last the needle was able to do them of

itself. At length, and while the needle was in the full perfection of

its powers, the old woman died. A neighbour, whose numerous "olive

branches" caused her to have a full share of matronly employment,

hastened to possess herself of this domestic treasure, and gathered

round her the weekly accumulation of sewing, not doubting but that

with her new ally, the wonder-working needle, the unwieldy work-basket

would be cleared, "in no time," of its overflowing contents. But even

the all-powerful needle was of no avail without thread, and she

forthwith proceeded to invest it with a long one. But thread it she

could not; it resisted her most strenuous endeavours. In vain she

turned and re-turned the needle, the eye was plain enough to be seen;

in vain she cut and screwed the thread, she burnt it in the candle,

she nipped it with the scissars, she rolled it with her lips, she

twizled it between her finger and thumb: the pointed end was fine as

fine could be, but enter the eye of the needle it would not. At

length, determined not to relinquish her project whilst any hope

remained of its accomplishment, she borrowed a magnifying glass to

examine the "little weapon" more accurately. And there, "large as life

and twice as natural," a pearly gem, a translucent drop, a crystal

_tear_ stood right in the gap, and filled to overflowing the eye of

the needle. It was weeping for the death of its old mistress; it

refused consolation; it was never threaded again.

We give this incident on the testimony of a gallant naval officer; an

unquestionable authority, though we are fully aware that some of our

readers may be ungenerously sceptical, and perhaps even rude enough to

attempt some vile pun about the brave sailor's "drawing a long yarn."

If, however, Gammer Gurton's needle resembled the one we have just

referred to, and that, too, at a time when a needle, even not

supernaturally endowed, was not to be had of English manufacture, and

therefore could only be purchased probably at a high price, we cannot

wonder at the aggrieved feelings of her domestic circle when the

catastrophe occurred which is depicted as follows:--The parties

interested were the Dame Gammer Gurton herself; Hodge, her farming

man; Tib, her maid; Cocke, her boy; and Gib, her cat. The play from

which our quotation is taken is not without some pretensions to wit,

though of the coarsest kind: it is supposed to have been first

performed at Christ's College, Cambridge, in 1566; and Warton observes

on it, that while Latimer's sermons were in vogue at court, Gammer

Gurton's needle might well be tolerated at the university.

Act I. Scene 3. Hodge and Tib.

_Hodge._ "I am agast, by the masse, I wot not what to do;

I had need blesse me well before I go them to:

Perchance, some felon spirit may haunt our house indeed,

And then I were but a noddy to venter where's no need."

_Tib._ "I'm worse than mad, by the masse, to be at this stay.

I'm chid, I'm blam'd, and beaten all th' hours on the day.

Lamed and hunger starved, pricked up all in jagges,

Having no patch to hide my backe, save a few rotten ragges."

_Hodge._ "I say, Tib, if thou be Tib, as I trow sure thou be,

What devil make ado is this between our dame and thee?"

_Tib._ "Truly, Hodge, thou had a good turn thou wart not here this

while;

It had been better for some of us to have been hence a mile:

My Gammer is so out of course, and frantike all at once,

That Cocke, our boy, and I poor wench, have felt it on our

bones."

_Hodge._ "What is the matter, say on, Tib, whereat she taketh so on?"

_Tib._ "She is undone, she saith (alas) her life and joy is gone:

If she hear not of some comfort, she is she saith but dead,

Shall never come within her lips, on inch of meat ne bread.

And heavy, heavy is her grief, as, Hodge, we all shall feel."

_Hodge._ "My conscience, Tib, my Gammer has never lost her neele?"

_Tib._ "Her neele."

_Hodge._ "Her neele?"

_Tib._ "Her neele, by him that made me!"

_Hodge._ "How a murrain came this chaunce (say Tib) unto her dame?"

_Tib._ "My Gammer sat her down on the pes, and bade me reach thy

breches,

And by and by, a vengeance on it, or she had take two

stitches

To clout upon the knee, by chaunce aside she lears,

And Gib our cat, in the milk pan, she spied over head

and ears.

Ah! out, out, theefe, she cried aloud, and swapt the

breeches down,

Up went her staffe, and out leapt Gib at doors into the town:

And since that time was never wight cold set their eyes

upon it.

God's malison she have Cocke and I bid twentie times light

on it."

_Hodge._ "And is not then my breches sewed up, to-morrow that I shuld

wear?"

_Tib._ "No, in faith, Hodge, thy breches lie, for all this never the

near."

_Hodge._ "Now a vengeance light on al the sort, that better shold

have kept it;

The cat, the house, and Tib our maid, that better should

have swept it.

Se, where she cometh crawling! Come on, come on thy

lagging way;

Ye have made a fair daies worke, have you not? pray you,

say."

* * * * *

Act I. Scene 4. Gammer, Hodge, Tib, Cocke.

_Gammer._ "Alas, alas, I may well curse and ban

This day, that ever I saw it, with Gib and the milke pan.

For these, and ill lucke together, as knoweth Cocke my boy,

Have stacke away my dear neele, and rob'd me of my joy,

My fair long straight neele, that was mine only treasure,

The first day of my sorrow is, and last of my pleasure."

_Hodge._ "Might ha kept it when ye had it; but fools will be fools

still:

Lose that is fast in your hands? ye need not, but ye will."

_Gammer._ "Go hie the, Tib, and run along, to th' end here of the town.

Didst carry out dust in thy lap? seek where thou porest

it down;

And as thou sawest me roking in the ashes where I morned,

So see in all the heap of dust thou leave no straw unturned."

_Hodge._ "Your neele lost? it is pitie you shold lacke care and

endles sorrow.

Tell me, how shall my breches be sewid? shall I go thus

to-morrow?"

_Gammer._ "Ah, Hodge, Hodge, if that I could find my neele, by the

reed,

I'd sew thy breches, I promise the, with full good double

threed,

And set a patch on either knee, shall last this months twain,

Now God, and Saint Sithe, I pray, to send it back again."

_Hodge._ "Whereto served your hands and eyes, but your neele keep?

What devil had you els to do? ye keep, I wot, no sheep.

I'm fain abrode to dig and delve, in water, mire and clay,

Sossing and possing in the dirt, still from day to day

A hundred things that be abroad, I'm set to see them weel;

And four of you sit idle at home, and cannot keep a neele."

_Gammer._ "My neele, alas, I lost, Hodge, what time I me up hasted,

To save milk set up for thee, which Gib our cat hath wasted."

_Hodge._ "The devil he take both Gib and Tib, with all the rest;

I'm always sure of the worst end, whoever have the best.

Where ha you ben fidging abroad, since you your neele lost?"

_Gammer._ "Within the house, and at the door, sitting by this same

post;

Where I was looking a long hour, before these folke came

here;

But, wel away! all was in vain, my neele is never the near!"

"Gammer Gurton's Needle," says Hazlitt, "is a regular comedy, in five

acts, built on the circumstance of an old woman having lost her needle

which throws the whole village into confusion, till it is at last

providentially found sticking in an unlucky part of Hodge's dress.

This must evidently have happened at a time when the manufactures of

Sheffield and Birmingham had not reached the height of perfection

which they have at present done. Suppose that there is only one sewing

needle in a village, that the owner, a diligent notable old dame,

loses it, that a mischief-making wag sets it about that another old

woman has stolen this valuable instrument of household industry, that

strict search is made every where in-doors for it in vain, and that

then the incensed parties sally forth to scold it out in the open air,

till words end in blows, and the affair is referred over to the higher

authorities, and we shall have an exact idea (though, perhaps, not so

lively a one) of what passes in this authentic document between Gammer

Gurton and her gossip Dame Chat; Dickon the Bedlam (the causer of

these harms); Hodge, Gammer Gurton's servant; Tyb, her maid; Cocke,

her 'prentice boy; Doll Scapethrift; Master Baillie, his master; Dr.

Rat, the curate; and Gib, the cat, who may fairly be reckoned one of

the _dramatis personae_, and performs no mean part."

From the needle itself the transition is easy to the needlework which

was in vogue at the time when this little implement was so valuable

and rare a commodity. We are told that the various kinds of needlework

practised at this time would, if enumerated, astonish even the most

industrious of our modern ladies. The lover of Shakspeare will

remember that the term _point device_ is often used by him, and that,

indeed, it is a term frequently met with in the writers of that age

with various applications; and it is originally derived, according to

Mr. Douce, from the fine stitchery of the ladies.

It has been properly stated, that _point device_ signifies _exact_,

_nicely_, _finical_; but nothing has been offered concerning the

etymology, except that we got the expression from the French. It has,

in fact, been supplied from the labours of the needle. _Poinct_, in

the French language, denotes a _stitch_; _devise_ any thing

_invented_, disposed, or _arranged_. _Point devise_ was, therefore, a

particular sort of patterned lace worked with the needle; and the term

_point lace_ is still familiar to every female. They had likewise

their _point-coupe_, _point-compte_, _dentelle au point devant

l'aiguille_, &c. &c.

But it is apparent, he adds, that the expression _point devise_ became

applicable, in a _secondary_ sense, to whatever was uncommonly exact,

or constructed with the nicety and precision of stitches made or

devised with the needle.

Various books of patterns of needlework for the assistance and

encouragement of the fair stitchers were published in those days. Mr.

Douce[116] enumerates some of them, and the omission of any part of

his notation would be unpardonable in the present work.

The earliest on the list is an Italian book, under the title of

"Esemplario di lavori: dove le tenere fanciulle et altre donne nobile

potranno facilmente imparare il modo et ordine di lavorare, cusire,

raccamare, et finalmente far tutte quelle gentillezze et lodevili

opere, le quali po fare una donna virtuosa con laco in mano, con li

suoi compasse et misure. Vinegia, per Nicolo D'Aristotile detto

Zoppino, MDXXIX. 8vo."

The next that occurs was likewise set forth by an Italian, and

entitled, "Les singuliers et nouveaux pourtraicts du Seigneur Federic

de Vinciolo Venitien, pour toutes sortes d'ouvrages de lingerie.

Paris, 1588. 4to." It is dedicated to the Queen of France, and had

been already twice published.

In 1599 a second part came out, which is much more difficult to be met

with than the former, and sometimes contains a neat portrait, by

Gaultier, of Catherine de Bourbon, the sister of Henry the Fourth.

The next is "Nouveaux pourtraicts de point coupe et dantelles en

petite moyenne et grande forme, nouvellement inventez et mis en

lumiere. Imprime a Montbeliard, 1598. 4to." It has an address to the

ladies, and a poem exhorting young damsels to be industrious; but the

author's name does not appear. Vincentio's work was published in

England, and printed by John Wolfe, under the title of "New and

Singular Patternes and Workes of Linnen, serving for paternes to make

all sortes of lace, edginges, and cutworkes. Newly invented for the

profite and contentment of ladies, gentilwomen, and others that are

desireous of this Art. 1591. 4to." He seems also to have printed it

with a French title.

We have then another English book, of which this is the title: "Here

foloweth certaine Patternes of Cutworkes; newly invented and never

published before. Also, sundry sortes of spots, as flowers, birdes,

and fishes, &c., and will fitly serve to be wrought, some with gould,

some with silke, and some with crewell in coullers; or otherwise at

your pleasure. And never but once published before. Printed by Rich.

Shorleyker." No date. In oblong quarto.

And lastly, another oblong quarto, entitled, "The Needle's Excellency,

a new booke, wherein are divers admirable workes wrought with the

needle. Newly invented and cut in copper for the pleasure and profit

of the industrious." Printed for James Boler, &c., 1640. Beneath this

title is a neat engraving of three ladies in a flower garden, under

the names of Wisdom, Industrie, and Follie. Prefixed to the patterns

are sundry poems in commendation of the needle, and describing the

characters of ladies who have been eminent for their skill in

needlework, among whom are Queen Elizabeth and the Countess of

Pembroke. The poems were composed by John Taylor the water poet. It

appears that the work had gone through twelve impressions, and yet a

copy is now scarcely to be met with. This may be accounted for by

supposing that such books were generally cut to pieces, and used by

women to work upon or transfer to their samplers. From the dress of a

lady and gentleman on one of the patterns in the last mentioned book,

it appears to have been originally published in the reign of James the

First. All the others are embellished with a multitude of patterns

elegantly cut in wood, several of which are eminently conspicuous for

their taste and beauty.

We are happy to add a little further information on some of these

works, and on others preserved in the British Museum.

"Les singuliers et nouveaux Pourtraicts du Seigneur Federic de

Vinciolo Venitien, pour toutes sortes d'ouvrages de Lingerie. Dedie a

la Reyne. A Paris, 1578."[117]

The book opens with a sonnet to the fair, which announces to them an

admirable motive for the work itself:--

"Pour tromper vos ennuis, et l'esprit employer."

Aux Dames et Damoyselles.

SONNET.

"L'un s'efforce a gaigner le coeur des {grands} Seigneurs

Pour posseder en fin une exquise richesse;

L'autre aspire aux estats, pour monter en altesse,

Et l'autre, par la guerre alleche les honneurs.

"Quand a moy, seulement pour chasser mes langueurs,

Je me sen satisfaict de vivre en petitesse,

Et de faire si bien, qu'aux Dames ie delaisse

Un grand contentement en mes graves labeurs.

"Prenez doncques en gre (mes Dames) ie vous prie,

Ces pourtrais ouvragez lesquels ie vous dedie,

Pour tromper vos ennuis, et l'esprit employer.

"En ceste nouveaute, pourrez beaucoup apprendre,

Et maistresses en fin en cest oeuvre vous rendre,

Le travail est plaisant: Si grand est le loyer."

Which, barring elegant diction and poetic rule, may be read thus:--

Whilst one man worships lordly state

As yielding all that he desires--

This, fertile acres begs from fate;

Another, bloody laurels fires.

To dissipate my devils blue,

Trifles, I'm satisfied to do;

For surely if the fair I please,

My very labours smack of ease.

Take then, fair ladies, I you pray,

The book which at your feet I lay,

To make you happy, brisk and gay.

There's much you here may learn anew,

Which _comme il faut_ will render you,

And bring you joy and honour too.

Proceed we to the--

"Ouvrages de point Coupe," of which there are thirty-six. Some birds,

animals, and figures are introduced; but the patterns are chiefly

arabesque, set off in white, on a thick black ground.

Then, with a repetition of the ornamented title-page, come about fifty

patterns, which are represented much like the German patterns of the

present day, in squares for stitches, but not so finely wrought as

some which we shall presently notice. These patterns consist of

arabesques, figures, birds, beasts, flowers, in every variety. To many

the stitches are ready counted (as well as pourtrayed), thus:--

"Ce Pelican contient en longueur 70 mailles, et en hauteur 65." This

pattern of maternity is represented as pecking her breast, towards

which three young ones are flying; their course being indicated by the

three lines of white stitches, all converging to the living nest.

"Ce Griffon {contient} en hauteur 58 mailles, et en {longueur} 67."

Small must be the skill of the needlewoman who does not make this a

very rampant animal indeed.

"Ce Paon contient en longueur 65 mailles, et en hauteur 61."

"La Licorne en hauteur {contient} 44 mailles, et en longueur 62, &c.

&c."

"La bordure contient 25 mailles."

"La bordure de haut {contient} 35 mailles." This is a very handsome

one, resembling pine apples.

"Ce quarre contient 65 mailles." There are several of these squares,

and borders appended, of very rich patterns.

But the book contains far more ambitious designs. There are Sol, Luna,

Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, Saturn, Neptune, and others, whose

dignities and vocation must be inferred from the emblematical

accompaniments.

There is "La Deesse des fleurs representant le printemps."

"La Deesse des Bleds representant l'este."

"Ce Bacchus representant l'Autonne."

"Ceste figure representant l'hiver," &c. &c.

Appended is this "Extraict du Privilege."

"Per grace et privelege du Roy, est permis a Jean le Clerc le jeune,

tailleur d'histoires a Paris, d'imprimer ou faire imprimer {vendre} et

distribuer un livre intitule livre de patrons de Lingerie, DEDIE A LA

ROYNE, nouvellement invente par le Seigneur Federic de Vinciolo

Venitien, avec deffences a tous Libraires, Imprimeurs, ou autres, de

quelque condition et qualite quilz soyent, de faire ny contrefaire,

aptisser ny {agrandir}, ou pocher lesdits figures, ny exposer en vente

ledict Livre sans le {conge} ou permission dudict le Clerc, et ce

jusques au temps et terme de neuf ans finis et accomplis, sur peine de

confiscation de tous les livres qui se trouveront imprimez, et damande

arbitraire: comme plus a plein est declare en lettres patentes,

donnees a Paris ce douziesme jour de Novembre, 1587."

Another work, preserved in the British Museum, was published at

Strasbourg, 1596, seemingly from designs of the same Vinciolo. These

consist of about six-and-thirty plates, with patterns in white on a

black ground, consisting of a few birds and figures, but chiefly of

stars and wreaths pricked out in every possible variety; and at the

end of the book a dozen richly wrought patterns, without any edging,

were seemingly designed for what we should now call "insertion" work

or lace.

There is another, by the same author, printed at Basil in 1599, which

varies but slightly from the foregoing.

This Frederick de Vinciolo is doubtless the same person who was

summoned to France, by Catherine de Medicis, to instruct the ladies of

the court in the art of netting the lace of which the then fashionable

ruffs were made.

In another volume we have--

"Corona delle Nobili et virtuose Donne, nel quale si dimostra in varij

Dissegni tutte le sorti di Mostre di punti tagliati, punti in Aria,

punti Fiamenghi, punti a Reticelle, e d'ogni altre sorte, cosi per

Freggi, per Merli, e Rosette, che con l'Aco si usano hoggidi per tutta

l'Europa.

"E molte delle quali Mostre possono servire ancora per opere a

Mazzette.

"Con le dichiarationi a le Mostre a Lavori fatti da Lugretia Romana.

"In Venetia appresso Alessandro di Vecchi, 1620."

The plates here are very similar to those in the above-mentioned

works. Some are accompanied by short explanations, saying where they

are most used and to whom they are best suited, as--

"Hopera Bellissima, che per il piu le Signore Duchese, et altre

Signore si servono per li suoi lavori."

"Queste bellissime Rosette usano anco le gentildonne Venetiane da far

traverse."

But certainly the best work of the kind is, "The Needle's Excellency,"

referred to in Mr. Douce's list. It contains a variety of plates, of

which the patterns are all, or nearly all, arabesque. They are

beautifully executed, many of them being very similar to, and equally

fine with, the German patterns before the colouring is put on, which,

though it guides the eye, defaces the work. These are seldom seen

uncoloured, the Germans having a jealousy of sending them; but we have

seen, through the polite attention of Mr. Wilks, of Regent Street, one

or two in this state, and we could not but admire the extreme delicacy

and beauty of the work. Some few of the patterns in the book we are

now referring to are so extremely similar, that we doubt not the

modern artists have borrowed the _idea_ of their beautifully traced

patterns from this or some similar work; thereby adding one more proof

of the truth of the oft quoted proverb, "There is nothing new under

the sun."

As a fitting close to this chapter, we give the Needle's praises in

full, as sung by the water poet, John Taylor, and prefixed to the

last-mentioned work.

THE PRAISE OF THE NEEDLE.

"To all dispersed sorts of arts and trades,

I write the needles prayse (that never fades)

So long as children shall be got or borne,

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 man's gaine shall toyle:

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

So long at least, the needles use shall last:

And though from earth his being did begin,

Yet through the fire he did his honour win:

And unto those that doe his service lacke,

He's true as steele and mettle to the backe

He hath indeed, I see, small single sight,

Yet like a pigmy, _Polipheme_ in fight:

As a stout captaine, bravely he leades on,

(Not fearing colours) till the worke be done,

Through thicke and thinne he is most sharpely set,

With speed through stitch, he will the conquest get.

And as a souldier (Frenchefyde with heat)

Maim'd from the warres is forc'd to make retreat;

So when a needles point is broke, and gone,

_No point Mounsieur_, he's maim'd, his worke is done,

And more the needles honour to advance,

It is a tailor's javelin, or his lance;

And for my countries quiet, I should like,

That women kinde should use no other pike.

It will increase their peace, enlarge their store,

To use their tongues lesse, and their needles more.

The needles sharpnesse, profit yields, and pleasure,

But sharpnesse of the tongue, bites out of measure.

A needle (though it be but small and slender)

Yet it is both a maker and a mender:

A grave Reformer of old rents decay'd,

Stops holes and seames and desperate cuts display'd,

And thus without the needle we may see

We should without our bibs and biggins bee;

No shirts or smockes, our nakednesse to hide,

No garments gay, to make us magnifide:

No shadowes, shapparoones, caules, bands, ruffs, kuffs,

No kerchiefes, quoyfes, chinclouts, or marry-muffes,

No croscloaths, aprons, handkerchiefes, or falls,

No table-cloathes, for parlours or for halls,

No sheetes, no towels, napkins, pillow beares,

Nor any garment man or woman weares.

Thus is a needle prov'd an instrument

Of profit, pleasure, and of ornament.

Which mighty queenes have grac'd in hand to take,

And high borne ladies such esteeme did make,

That as their daughters daughters up did grow,

The needles art, they to the children show.

And as 'twas then an exercise of praise,

So what deserves more honour in these dayes,

Than this? which daily doth itselfe expresse

A mortall enemy to idlenesse.

The use of sewing is exceeding old,

As in the sacred text it is enrold:

Our parents first in Paradise began,

Who hath descended since from man to man:

The mothers taught their daughters, sires their sons

Thus in a line successively it runs

For generall profit, and for recreation,

From generation unto generation.

With work like cherubims embroidered rare,

The covers of the tabernacle were.

And by the Almighti's great command, we see,

That Aaron's garments broidered worke should be;

And further, God did bid his vestments should

Be made most gay, and glorious to behold.

Thus plainly and most truly is declar'd

The needles worke hath still bin in regard,

For it doth art, so like to nature frame,

As if it were her sister, or the same.

Flowers, plants and fishes, beasts, birds, flyes, and bees,

Hills, dales, plaines, pastures, skies, seas, rivers, trees;

There's nothing neere at hand, or farthest sought,

But with the needle may be shap'd and wrought.

In clothes of arras I have often seene,

Men's figur'd counterfeits so like have beene,

That if the parties selfe had been in place,

Yet art would vie with nature for the grace;

Moreover, posies rare, and anagrams,

Signifique searching sentences from names,

True history, or various pleasant fiction,

In sundry colours mixt, with arts commixion,

All in dimension, ovals, squares, and rounds,

Arts life included within natures bounds:

So that art seemeth merely naturall,

In forming shapes so geometricall;

And though our country everywhere is fild

With ladies, and with gentlewomen, skild

In this rare art, yet here they may discerne

Some things to teach them if they list to learne.

And as this booke some cunning workes doth teach,

(Too hard for meane capacities to reach)

So for weake learners, other workes here be,

As plaine and easie as are A B C.

Thus skilful, or unskilful, each may take

This booke, and of it each good use may make,

All sortes of workes, almost that can be nam'd,

Here are directions how they may be fram'd:

And for this kingdomes good are hither come,

From the remotest parts of Christendome,

Collected with much paines and industrie,

From scorching _Spaine_ and freezing _Muscovie_,

From fertill _France_, and pleasant _Italy_,

From _Poland_, _Sweden_, _Denmark_, _Germany_,

And some of these rare patternes have beene fet

Beyond the bounds of faithlesse _Mahomet_:

From spacious _China_, and those kingdomes East,

And from great _Mexico_, the Indies West.

Thus are these workes, _farrefetcht_ and _dearely bought_,

And consequently _good for ladies thought_.

Nor doe I derogate (in any case)

Or doe esteeme of other teachings base,

For _tent worke_, _rais'd worke_, _laid worke_, _frost works_,

_net worke_,

Most curious _purles_, or rare _Italian cut worke_,

Fine, _ferne stitch_, _finny stitch_, _new stitch_, and _chain stitch_,

Brave _bred stitch_, _Fisher stitch_, _Irish stitch_, and _Queen

stitch_,

The _Spanish stitch_, _Rosemary stitch_, and _Mowse stitch_

The smarting _whip stitch_, _back stitch_, and the _crosse stitch_

All these are good, and these we must allow,

And these are everywhere in practise now:

And in this booke there are of these some store,

With many others, never seene before.

Here practise and invention may be free.

And as a squirrel skips from tree to tree,

So maids may (from their mistresse or their mother)

Learne to leave one worke, and to learne another,

For here they may make choice of which is which,

And skip from worke to worke, from stitch to stitch,

Until, in time, delightful practise shall

(With profit) make them perfect in them all.

Thus hoping that these workes may have this guide,

To serve for ornament, and not for pride:

To cherish vertue, banish idlenesse,

For these ends, may this booke have good successe."

FOOTNOTES:

[115] It is worth while to remark the circumstance, that by a machine

of the simplest construction, being nothing in fact but a tray, 20,000

needles thrown promiscuously together, mixed and entangled in every

way, are laid parallel, heads to heads, and points to points, in the

course of three or four minutes.

[116] Illustrations, vol. ii. p. 92.

[117] This seems to be a somewhat earlier edition of the second book

in Mr. Douce's list.

CHAPTER XVII.

TAPESTRY FROM THE CARTOONS.

"For, round about, the walls yclothed were

With goodly Arras of great majesty,

Woven with gold and silk so close and nere,

That the rich metal lurked privily,

As faining to be hidd from envious eye;

Yet here, and there, and every where unwares

It shew'd itselfe and shone unwillingly;

Like to a discolour'd Snake, whose hidden snares

Through the greene gras his long bright burnisht back declares."

Faerie Queene.