Raphael, whose name is familiar to all "as a household word," seems to

have been equally celebrated for a handsome person, an engaging

address, an amiable disposition, and high talents. Language exhausts

itself in his eulogy.[118] But the extravagant encomiums of Lanzi and

others must be taken in a very modified sense, ere we arrive at the

rigid truth. The tone of morals in Italy "did not correspond with

evangelical purity;" and Raphael's follies were not merely permitted,

but encouraged and fostered by those who sought eagerly for the

creations of his pencil. His thousand engaging qualities were

disfigured by a licentiousness which probably shortened his career,

for he died at the early age of thirty-seven.

Great and sincere was the grief expressed at Rome for his untimely

death, and no testimony of sorrow could be more affecting, more

simple, or more highly honourable to its object than the placing his

picture of the Transfiguration over his mortal remains in the chamber

wherein he died.

It was probably within two years of the close of his short life when

he was engaged by Pope Leo the Tenth to paint those cartoons which

have more than all his works immortalised his name, and which render

the brief hints we have given respecting him peculiarly appropriate to

this work.

The cartoons were designs, from Scripture chiefly, from which were to

be woven hangings to ornament the apartments of the Vatican; and their

dimensions being of course proportioned to the spaces they were

designed to fill, the tapestries, though equal in height, differed

extremely in breadth.

The designs were,

1. The Nativity.

2. The Adoration of the Magi.

3. }

}

4. } The Slaughter of the Innocents.

}

5. }

6. The Presentation in the Temple.

7. The Miraculous Draught of Fishes.

8. St. Peter receiving the Keys.

9. The Descent of Christ into Limbus.

10. The Resurrection.

11. Noli me tangere.

12. Christ at Emmaus.

13. The Ascension.

14. The Descent of the Holy Ghost.

15. The Martyrdom of St. Stephen.

16. The Conversion of St. Paul.

17. Paul and Barnabas at Lystra.

18. Paul Preaching.

19. Death of Ananias.

20. Elymas the Sorcerer.

21. An earthquake; showing the delivery of Paul and

Silas from prison: named from the earthquake which shook

the foundations of the building. The artist endeavours

to render it ideally visible to the spectator by placing

a gigantic figure, which appears to be raising the

superincumbent weight on his shoulders; but the result

is not altogether successful.

22. St. Peter healing the cripple.

23-24. Contain emblems alluding to Leo the Tenth. These

are preserved in one of the private apartments of the

Vatican palace.

25. Justice. In this subject the figures of Religion,

Charity, and Justice are seen above the papal armorial

bearings. The last figure gives name to the whole.

When the cartoons were finished they were sent into Flanders to be

woven (at the famous manufactory at Arras) under the superintendence

of Barnard Van Orlay of Brussels, and Michael Coxis, artists who had

been for some years pupils of Raphael at Rome. Two sets were executed

with the utmost care and cost, but the death of Raphael, the murder of

the Pope, and subsequent intestine troubles seem to have delayed their

appropriation. They cost seventy thousand crowns, a sum which is said

to have been defrayed by Francis the First of France, in consideration

of Leo's having canonised St. Francis of Paola, the founder of the

Minims.

Adrian the Second was a man "alienissimo da ogni bell'arte;" an

indifference which may account for the cartoons not being sent with

the tapestries to Rome, though some accounts say that the debt for

their manufacture remained unliquidated, and that the paintings were

kept in Flanders as security for it. They were carried away by the

Spanish army in 1526-7 during the sack of Rome, but were restored by

the zeal and spirit of Montmorenci the French general, as set forth in

the woven borders of the tapestries Nos. 6 and 9. Pope Paul the Fourth

(1555) first introduced them to the gaze of the public by exhibiting

them before the Basilica of St. Peter on the festival of Corpus

Domini, and also at the solemn "function of Beatification." This use

of them was continued through part of the last century, and is now

resumed.

In 1798 they were taken by the French from Rome and sold to a Jew at

Leghorn, and one of them was burnt by him in order to extract the gold

with which they were richly interwoven; but happily they did not

furnish so much spoil as the speculator hoped, and this devastation

was arrested. The one that was destroyed represented Christ's Descent

into Limbus; the rest were repurchased for one thousand three hundred

crowns, and restored to the Vatican in 1814.

We have alluded to two sets of these tapestries, and it is believed

that there were two; whether _exactly_ counterparts has not been

ascertained. We have traced the migrations of one set. The other was,

according to some authorities, presented by Pope Leo the Tenth to our

Henry the Eighth; whilst others say that our king purchased it from

the state of Venice. It was hung in the Banqueting House of

Whitehall, and after the unhappy execution of Charles the First, was

put up, amongst other royal properties, to sale. Being purchased by

the Spanish ambassador, it became the property of the house of Alva,

and within a few years back was sold by the head of that illustrious

house to Mr. Tupper, our consul in Spain, and by him sent back to this

country.

These tapestries were then exhibited for some time in the Egyptian

Hall, Piccadilly, and were afterwards repurchased by a foreigner.

Probably they have been making a "progress" throughout the kingdom, as

within this twelvemonth we had the satisfaction of viewing them at the

principal town in a northern county. The motto of our chapter might

have been written expressly for these tapestries, so exquisitely

accurate is the description as applied to them of the gold thread:--

"As 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."

The cartoons themselves, the beautiful originals of these magnificent

works, remained in the Netherlands, and were all, save seven, lost and

destroyed through the ravages of time, and chance, and revolution.

These seven, much injured by neglect, and almost pounced into holes by

the weaver tracing his outlines, were purchased by King Charles the

First, and are now justly considered a most valuable possession. It is

supposed that the chief object of Charles in the purchase was to

supply the then existing tapestry manufactory at Mortlake with

superior designs for imitation. Five of them were _certainly_ woven

there, and it is far from improbable that the remaining ones were

also.[119]

There was also a project for weaving them by a person of the name of

James Christopher Le Blon, and houses were built and looms erected at

Chelsea expressly for that purpose, but the design failed.

The "British Critic," for January, this year, has the following

spirited remarks with regard to the present situation of the cartoons.

"The cartoons of Raffaelle are very unfairly seen in their present

locale; a long gallery built for the purpose by William the Third, but

in which the light enters through common chamber windows, and therefore

is so much below the cartoons as to leave the greater part of them in

shade. We venture to say there is no country in Europe in which such

works as these--unique, and in their class invaluable--would be treated

with so little honour. It has been decided by competent opinions, that

their removal to London would be attended with great risk to their

preservation, from the soot, damp, accumulation of dust, and other

inconveniences, natural or incident to a crowded city. This, however,

is no fair reason for their being shut up in their present ill-assorted

apartment. There is not a petty state in Germany that would not erect a

gallery on purpose for them; and a few thousand pounds would be well

bestowed in providing a fitting receptacle for some of the finest

productions of human genius in art; and of the full value of which we

_alone_, their possessors, seem to be comparatively insensible. Various

portions of cartoons by Raffaelle, part of the same series or set,

exist in England; and it is far from unlikely that, were there a proper

place to preserve and exhibit the whole in, these would in time, by

presentation or purchase, become the property of the country, and we

should then possess a monument of the greatest master of his art, only

inferior to that which he has left on the walls of the Vatican."

Of all these varied and beautiful paintings, that of the Adoration of

the Magi, from the variety of character and expression, the splendor

and oriental pomp of the whole, the multitude of persons, between

forty and fifty, the various accessaries, elephants, horses, &c., with

the variety of splendid and ornamental illustrations, and the

exquisite grouping, is considered as the most attractive and brilliant

in tapestry. As a piece of general and varied interest it may be so;

but we well remember being, not so suddenly struck, as attracted and

fascinated by the figure of the Christ when, after his resurrection,

he is recommending the care of his flock to St. Peter. The colours

have faded gradually and equably--(an advantage not possessed by the

others, where some tints which have stood the ravages of time better

than those around them, are in places strikingly and painfully

discordant)--but in this figure the colours, though greatly faded,

have yet faded so harmoniously as to add very much to the illusion,

giving to the figure really the appearance of one risen from the

dead. The outline is majestic; turn which way we would, we

involuntarily returned to look again. At length we mentioned our

admiration to the superintendent, and the reply of the enthusiastic

foreigner precluded all further remark--for nothing further could be

said:--

"Madam, I should have been astonished if you had not admired that

figure: _it is itself_; it is precisely _the finest thing in the

world_."

FOOTNOTES:

[118] For example:--"Egli avea tenuto sempre un contegno da

guadagnarsi il cuore di tutto. Rispettoso verso il maestro, ottenne

dal Papa che le sue pitture in una volta delle camere Vaticane

rimanessero intatte; giusto verso i suoi emuli ringraziava Dio

d'averlo fatto nascere a' tempi del Bonarruoti; grazioso verso i

discepoli gl'istrui e gli amo come figli; cortese anche verso

gl'ignoti, a chiunque ricorse a lui per consiglio presto liberalmente

l'opera sua, e per far disegni ad altrui o dar gl'indirizzo lascio

indietro talvolta i lavori propri, non sapendo non pure di negar

grazia, ma differirla."--Lanzi, vol. ii.

Consequently when his body before interment lay in the room in which

he was accustomed to paint, "Non v'ebbe si duro artefice che a quello

spettacolo non lagrimasse."--"Ne pianse il Papa."

Of his works:--"Le sue figure veramente amano, languiscono, temono,

sperano, ardiscono; mostrano ira, placabilita, umilta, orgoglio, come

mette bene alla storia: spesso chi mira que' volti, que' guardi,

quelle mosse, non si ricorda che ha innanzi una immagine; si sente

accendere, prende partito, crede di trovarsi in sul fatto.--Tutto

parla nel silenzio; ogni attore, _Il cor negli occhi e nella fronte ha

scritto_; i piccioli movimenti degli occhi, degli narici, della bocca,

delle dita corrispondono a' primi moti d'ogni passione; i gesti piu

animati e piu vivi ne descrivono la violenza; e cio ch'e piu, essi

variano in cento modi senza uscir mai del naturale, e si attemperano a

cento caratteri senza uscir mai dalla proprieta. L'eroe ha movimenti

da eroe, il volgar da volgare; e quel che non descriverebbe lingua ne

penna, descrive in pochissimi tratti l'ingegno e l'arte di

Raffaello."--p. 65.

"Il paese, gli elementi, gli animali, le fabbriche, le manifatture,

ogni eta dell'uomo, ogni condizione, ogni affetto, tutte comprese con

la divinita del suo ingegno, tutto ridusse piu bello."--p. 71.

I have thought this long extract pardonable as applied to one whose

finest designs are now, through so many channels, rendered familiar to

us.

[119] In a priced catalogue of His Majesty's collection of "Limnings,"

edited by Vertue, is the following entry. "Item, in a slit box-wooden

case, some TWO CARTOONS of Raphael Urbinus for hangings to be made by,

and _the other FIVE are by the King's appointment delivered to Mr.

Francis Cleen at Mortlake, to make hangings by_."--Cartonensia.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE DAYS OF "GOOD QUEEN BESS."

"A worthie woman judge, a woman sent for staie."

"When Fame resounds with thundring trump, which rends the ratling

skies,

And pierceth to the hautie Heavens, and thence descending flies

Through flickering ayre: and so conjoines the sea and shore togither,

In admiration of thy grace, good Queene, thou'rt welcome hither."

_The Receyving of the Queene's Maiestie

into hir Citie of Norwich._

"We may justly wonder what has become of the industry of

the English ladies; we hear no more of their rich

embroiderings, and curious needlework. Is all the

domestic simplicity of the former ages entirely

vanished?"--Aikin.

The age of Elizabeth presents a never-failing field of variety through

which people of all tastes may delightedly rove, gathering flowers at

will. The learned statesman, the acute politician, the subtle lawyer,

will find in the measures of her Burleigh, her Walsingham, her Cecil,

abundant food for approbation or for censure; the heroic sailor will

glory over the achievements of her time; the adventurous traveller

will explore the Eldoradic regions with Raleigh, or plough the waves

with Drake and Frobisher; the soldier will recal glorious visions of

Essex and Sidney, while poesy wreathes a bay round the memory of the

last, which shines freshly and bright even in the age which produced a

Ben Jonson, and him "who was born with a star on his forehead to last

through all time"--Shakspeare.

The age of Elizabeth was especially a learned age. The study of the

dead languages had hitherto been confined almost exclusively to

ecclesiastics and scholars by profession, but from the time of Henry

the Seventh it had been gradually spreading amongst the higher

classes. The great and good Sir Thomas More gave his daughters a

learned education, and they did honour to it; Henry the Eighth

followed his example; Lady Jane Grey made learning lovely; and

Elizabeth's pedantry brought the habit into full fashion.

If a queen were to talk Sanscrit, her court would endeavour to do so

likewise. The example of learned studies was given by the queen

herself, who translated from the Greek a play of Euripides, and parts

of Isocrates, Xenophon, and Plutarch; from the Latin considerable

portions of Cicero, Seneca, Sallust, Horace, &c. She wrote many Latin

letters, and is said to have spoken five languages with facility. As a

natural consequence the nobility and gentry, their wives and

daughters, became enthusiasts in the cause of letters. The novelty

which attended these studies, the eager desire to possess what had

been so long studiously and jealously concealed, and the curiosity to

explore and rifle the treasures of the Greek and Roman world, which

mystery and imagination had swelled into the marvellous, contributed

to excite an absolute passion for study and for books. The court, the

ducal castle, and the baronial hall were suddenly converted into

academies, and could boast of splendid tapestries. In the first of

these, according to Ascham, might be seen the queen reading "more

Greeke every day than some prebendarie of this church doth read

_Latin_ in a whole week;" and while she was translating Isocrates or

Seneca, it may be easily conceived that her maids of honour found it

convenient to praise and to adopt the disposition of her time. In the

second, observes Warton, "the daughter of a duchess was taught not

only to distil strong waters, but to construe Greek; and in the third,

every young lady who aspired to be fashionable was compelled, in

imitation of the greater world, to exhibit similar marks of

erudition."

A contemporary writer says, that some of the ladies of the court

employ themselves "in continuall reading either of the holie

Scriptures, or histories of our owne or forren nations about us, and

diverse in writing volumes of their owne, or translating of other mens

into our English and Latine toongs. I might here (he adds) make a

large discourse of such honorable and grave councellors, and noble

personages, as give their dailie attendance upon the queene's

majestie. I could in like sort set foorth a singular commendation of

the vertuous beautie, or beautiful vertues of such ladies and

gentlewomen as wait upon his person, betweene whose amiable

countenances and costlinesse of attire there seemeth to be such a

dailie conflict and contention, as that it is verie difficult for me

to gesse whether of the twaine shall beare awaie the preheminence.

This further is not to be omitted, to the singular commendation of

both sorts and sexes of our courtiers here in England, that there are

verie few of them which have not the use and skill of sundrie

speaches, beside an excellent veine of writing before-time not

regarded. Would to God the rest of their lives and conversations were

correspondent to these gifts! for as our common courtiers (for the

most part) are the best lerned and endued with excellent gifts, so are

manie of them the worst men when they come abroad, that anie man shall

either heare or read of. Trulie it is a rare thing with us now to

heare of a courtier which hath but his owne language. And to saie how

many gentlewomen and ladies there are, that beside sound knowledge of

the Greeke and Latine toongs, are thereto no lesse skilful in the

Spanish, Italian, and French, or in some one of them, it resteth not

in me. Sith I am persuaded, that as the noblemen and gentlemen doo

surmount in this behalfe, so these come verie little or nothing at all

behind them for their parts, which industrie God continue, and

accomplish that which otherwise is wanting!"[120]

At this time the practice (derived from the chivalrous ages, when

every baronial castle was the resort of young persons of gentle birth,

of both sexes) was by no means discontinued of placing young women, of

gentle birth, in the establishment of ladies of rank, where, without

performing any menial offices, they might be supposed to have their

own understood duties in the household, and had in return the

advantage of a liberal education, and constant association with the

best company. Persons of rank and fortune often retained in their

service many young people of both sexes of good birth, and bestowed on

them the fashionable education of the time. Indeed their houses were

the best, if not then the only schools of elegant learning. The

following letter, written in 1595, is from a young lady thus situated:

"To my good mother Mrs. Pake, at Broumfield, deliver this.

"Deare Mother,

"My humble dutye remembred unto my father and you, &c. I

received upon Weddensday last a letter from my father

and you, whereby, I understand, it is your pleasures

that I should certifie you what times I do take for my

lute, and the rest of my exercises. I doe for the most

part playe of my lute after supper, for then commonlie

my lady heareth me; and in the morninges, after I am

reddie, I play an hower; and my wrightinge and

siferinge, after I have done my lute. For my drawinge I

take an hower in the afternowne, and my French at night

before supper. My lady hath not bene well these tooe or

three dayes: she telleth me, when she is well, that she

will see if Hilliard will come and teche me; if she can

by any means she will, &c. &c.--As touchinge my newe

corse in service, I hope I shall performe my dutye to my

lady with all care and regard to please her, and to

behave myselfe to everye one else as it shall become me.

Mr. Harrisone was with me upone Fridaye; he heard me

playe, and brought me a dusson of trebles; I had some of

him when I came to London. Thus desiring pardone for my

rude writinge, I leave you to the Almightie, desiringe

him to increase in you all health and happines.

"Your obedient daughter,

"Rebecca Pake."

Could any thing afford a stronger contrast to the grave and certainly

severe study to which Elizabeth had habituated herself, than the vain

and fantastic puerility of many of her recreations and habits,--the

unintellectual brutality of the bearbaits which she admired, or the

gaudy and glittering pageants in which she delighted? She built a

gallery at Whitehall at immense expense, and so superficially, that it

was in ruins in her successor's time; but it was raised, in order to

afford a magnificent reception to the ambassadors who, in 1581, came

to treat of an alliance with the Duke of Anjou. It was framed of

timber, covered with painted canvas, and decorated with the utmost

gaudiness. Pendants of fruit of various kinds (amongst which cucumbers

and even carrots are enumerated) were hung from festoons of flowers

intermixed with evergreens, and the whole was powdered with gold

spangles; the ceiling was painted like a sky with stars, sunbeams, and

clouds, intermixed with scutcheons of the royal arms; and glass

lustres and ornaments were scattered all around. Here were enacted

masques and pageants chiefly remarkable for their pedantic prolixity

of composition, and the fulsome and gross flattery towards the queen

with which they were throughout invested.

Everything, in accordance with the rage of the day, assumed an

erudite, or, more truly speaking, a pedantic cast. When the queen

(says Warton) paraded through a country town, almost every pageant was

a pantheon. When she paid a visit at the house of any of her nobility,

at entering the hall she was saluted by the Penates, and conducted to

her privy chamber by Mercury. Even the pastry cooks were expert

mythologists. At dinner, select transformations of Ovid's

metamorphoses were exhibited in confectionary; and the splendid iceing

of an immense historic plum-cake was embossed with a delicious

basso-relievo of the destruction of Troy. In the afternoon, when she

condescended to walk in the garden, the lake was covered with Tritons

and Nereids; the pages of the family were converted into wood-nymphs,

who peeped from every bower; and the footmen gambolled over the lawns

in the figure of satyrs.

Scarcely we think could even the effusions of Euphues--a fashion also

of this period--be more wearisome to the spirit than a repetition of

these dull delights.

This predilection for learning, and the time perforce given to its

acquisition, must necessarily have subtracted from those hours which

might otherwise have been bestowed on the lighter labours and

beguiling occupations of the needle. Nor does it appear that after her

accession Elizabeth did much patronise this gentle art. She was cast

in a more stirring mould. In her father's court, under her sister's

jealous eye, within her prison's solitary walls, her needle might be a

prudent disguise, a solacing occupation, "woman's pretty excuse for

thought." But after her own accession to the throne _action_ was her

characteristic.

Nevertheless we are not to suppose that, because needlework was not "a

rage," it was frowned upon and despised. By no means. It is perhaps

fortunate that Elizabeth did not especially patronise it; for so

dictatorial and absolute was she, that by virtue of the "right divine"

she would have made her statesmen embroider their own robes, and her

warriors lay aside the sword for the distaff. But as, happily, it now

only held a secondary place in her esteem, we have Raleigh's poems

instead of his sampler, and Bacon's learning instead of his stitchery.

But it was not in her nature to suffer any thing in which she excelled

to lie quite dormant. She was an accomplished needlewoman; some

exquisite proofs of her skill were then glowing in all their

freshness, and her excellence in this art was sufficiently obvious to

prevent the ladies of her court from entirely forsaking it. Many

books, with patterns for needlework, were published about this time,

and in a later one Queen Elizabeth is especially celebrated in a

laudatory poem for her skill in it. That proficiency in ornamental

needlework was an absolute requisite in the accomplishments of a

country belle, may be inferred from the prominent place it holds in

Drayton's description of the well-educated daughter of a country

knight in Elizabeth's days:

"The silk well couth she twist and twine,

And make the fine march pine,

And with the needlework:

And she couth help the priest to say

His mattins on a holy day,

And sing a psalm in kirk.

"She wore a frock of frolic green,

Might well become a maiden queen,

Which seemly was to see;

A hood to that so neat and fine,

In colour like the columbine,

Ywrought full featously."

The march pine or counterpanes here alluded to, taxed in these days to

the fullest extent both the purse of the rich and the fingers of the

fair. Elizabeth had several most expensively trimmed with ermine as

well as needlework; the finest and richest embroidery was lavished on

them; and it was no unusual circumstance for the counterpane for the

"standing" or master's bed to be so lavishly adorned as to be worth a

thousand marks.

At no time was ornamental needlework more admired, or in greater

request in the every-day concerns of life, than now. Almost every

article of dress, male and female, was adorned with it. Even the

boots, which at this time had immense tops turned down and fringed,

and which were commonly made of russet cloth or leather, were worn by

some exquisites of the day of very fine cloth (of which enough was

used to make a shirt), and were embroidered in gold or silver, or in

various-coloured silks, in the figures of birds, animals, or

antiques; and the ornamental needlework alone of a pair of these boots

would cost from four to ten pounds. The making of a single shirt would

frequently cost 10_l._, so richly were they ornamented with

"needleworke of silke, and so curiously stitched with other knackes."

"Woman's triflings," too, their handkerchiefs, reticules, workbags,

&c., were decorated richly. We have seen within these few days a

workbag which would startle a modern fair one, for, as far as regards

_size_, it has a most "industrious look," but which, despite the

ravages of near three centuries, yet gives token of much original

magnificence. It is made of net, lined with silk; the material, the

net itself, (a sort of honeycomb pattern, like what we called a few

years ago the Grecian lace,) was made by the fair workwoman in those

days, and was a fashionable occupation both in France and England.

This bag is wrought in broad stripes with gold thread, and between the

stripes various flowers are embroidered in different coloured silks.

The bag stands in a sort of card-board basket, covered in the same

style; it is drawn with long cords and tassels, and is large enough

perhaps, on emergency, to hold a good sized baby.

It is more than probable that female skill was in request in various

matters of household decoration. The Arras looms, indeed, had long

superseded the painful fingers of notable dames in the construction of

hangings for walls, which were universally used, intermingled and

varied in the palaces and nobler mansions by "painted cloth," and

cloth of gold and silver. Thus Shakspeare describes Imogen's chamber

in Cymbeline:

"Her bed-chamber was hanged

With tapestry of silk and silver."

We have remarked that Henry the Eighth's palaces were very splendid;

Elizabeth's were equally so, and more consistently finished in minor

conveniences, as it is particularly remarked that "easye quilted and

lyned formes and stools for the lords and ladyes to sit on" had

superseded the "great plank forms, that two yeomen can scant remove

out of their places, and waynscot stooles so hard, that since great

breeches were layd asyde men can skant indewr to sitt on." Her two

presence chambers at Hampton Court shone with tapestry of gold and

silver, and silk of various colours; her bed was covered with costly

coverlids of silk, wrought in various patterns, by the needle; and she

had many "chusions," moveable articles of furniture of various shapes,

answering to our large family of tabourets and ottomans, embroidered

with gold and silver thread.

But it was not merely in courts and palaces that arras was used; it

was now, of a coarser fabric, universally adopted in the houses of the

country gentry. "The wals of our houses on the inner sides be either

hanged with tapisterie, arras-work,[121] or painted cloths, wherein

either diverse histories, or hearbes, beasts, knots, and such like are

stained, or else they are seeled with oke of our owne, or wainescot

brought hither out of the east countries." The tapestry was now

suspended on frames, which, we may infer, were often at a considerable

distance from the walls, since the portly Sir John Falstaff ensconced

himself "behind the arras" on a memorable occasion; Polonius too met

his death there; and indeed Shakspeare presses it into the service on

numerous occasions.

The following quotation will give an accurate idea of properties

thought most valuable at this time; and it will be seen that

ornamental needlework cuts a very distinguished figure therein. It is

a catalogue of his wealth given by Gremio when suing for Bianca to her

father, who declares that the wealthiest lover will win her, in the

Taming of the Shrew.

_Gremio._ "First, as you know, my house within the city

Is richly furnished with plate and gold;

Basons and ewers, to lave her dainty hands;

My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;

In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns;

In cypres chests my _arras_, counterpoints,

Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,

Fine linen, _Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl,

Valence of Venice gold, in needlework_,

Pewter and brass, and all things that belong

To house or house-keeping."

The age of Elizabeth was one which powerfully appeals to the

imagination in various ways. The aera of warlike chivalry was past; but

many of its lighter observances remained, and added to the variety of

life, and perhaps tended to polish it. We are told, for instance,

that as the Earl of Cumberland stood before Elizabeth she dropped her

glove; and on his picking it up graciously desired him to keep it. He

caused the trophy to be encircled with diamonds; and ever after, at

all tilts and tourneys, bore it conspicuously placed in front of his

high crowned hat. Jousting and tilting in honour of the ladies (by

whom prizes were awarded) continued still to be a favourite diversion.

There were annual contentions in the lists in honour of the sovereign,

and twenty-five persons of the first rank established a society of

arms for this purpose, of which the chivalric Sir Henry Lee was for

some time president.

The "romance of chivalry" was sinking to be succeeded by the heavier

tomes of Gomberville, Scudery, &c., but the extension of classical

knowledge, the vast strides in acquirement of various kinds, the utter

change, so to speak, in the system of literature, all contributed to

the downfall of the chivalric romance. Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia

introduced a rage for high-flown pastoral effusions; and now too was

re-born that taste for metaphorical effusion and spiritual romance,

which was first exhibited in the fourth century in the Bishop of

Tricca's romance of "Barlaam and Josaphat," and which now pervaded the

fast-rising puritan party, and was afterwards fully developed in that

unaccountably fascinating work, "The Pilgrim's Progress."

Nevertheless, as yet

"Courted and caress'd,

High placed in hall, a welcome guest,"

the harper poured to lord and lady gay not indeed "his unpremeditated

lay," but a poetical abridgment (the precursor of a fast succeeding

race of romantic ballads) of the doughty deeds of renowned knights, so

amply expatiated upon in the time-honoured folios of the "olden time."

The wandering harper, if fallen somewhat from his "high estate," was

still a recognised and welcome guest; his "matter being for the most

part stories of old time, as the tale of Sir Topas, the reportes of

Bevis of Southampton, Guy of Warwicke, Adam Bell, and Clymme of the

Clough, and such other old romances or historical rhimes." Though the

character of the minstrel gradually lost respectability, yet for a

considerable part of Elizabeth's reign it was one so fully

acknowledged, that a peculiar garb was still attached to the office.

"Mongst these, some bards there were that in their sacred rage

Recorded the descents and acts of everie age.

Some with their nimbler joynts that strooke the warbling string;

In fingering some unskild, but onelie vsed to sing

Vnto the other's harpe: of which you both might find

Great plentie, and of both excelling in their kind."

The superstitions of various kinds, the omens, the warnings, the

charms, the "potent spells" of the wizard seer, which

"Could hold in dreadful thrall the labouring moon,

Or draw the fix'd stars from their eminence,

And still the midnight tempest,"--

the supernatural agents, the goblins, the witches, the fairies, the

satyrs, the elves, the fauns, the "shapes that walk," the

"Uncharnel'd spectres, seen to glide

Along the lone wood's unfrequented path"--

the being and active existence of all these was considered "true as

holy writ" by our ancestors of the Elizabethan age. On this subject we

will transcribe a beautifully illustrative passage from Warton:--

"Every goblin of ignorance" (says he) "did not vanish at the first

glimmerings of the morning of science. Reason suffered a few demons

still to linger, which she chose to retain in her service under the

guidance of poetry. Men believed, or were willing to believe, that

spirits were yet hovering around, who brought with them _airs from

heaven, or blasts from hell_; that the ghost was duly relieved from

his prison of torment at the sound of the curfew, and that fairies

imprinted mysterious circles on the turf by moonlight. Much of this

credulity was even consecrated by the name of science and profound

speculation. Prospero had not yet _broken and buried his staff_, nor

_drowned his book deeper than did ever plummet sound_. It was now that

the alchemist and the judicial astrologer conducted his occult

operations by the potent intercourse of some preternatural being, who

came obsequious to his call, and was bound to accomplish his severest

services, under certain conditions, and for a limited duration of

time. It was actually one of the pretended feats of these fantastic

philosophers to evoke the queen of the fairies in the solitude of a

gloomy grove, who, preceded by a sudden rustling of the leaves,

appeared in robes of transcendant lustre. The Shakspeare of a more

instructed and polished age would not have given us a magician

darkening the sun at noon, the sabbath of the witches, and the

cauldron of incantation."

It were endless, and indeed out of place here, to attempt to specify

the numberless minor superstitions to which this credulous tendency of

the public mind gave birth or continuation; or the marvels of

travellers,--as the Anthropophagi, the Ethiops with four eyes, the

Hippopodes with their nether parts like horses, the Arimaspi with one

eye in the forehead, and the Monopoli who have no head at all, but a

face in their breast--which were all devoutly credited. One potent

charm, however, we are constrained to particularise, since its

infallibility was mainly dependent on the needlewoman's skill. It was

a waistcoat which rendered its owner invulnerable: we believe that if

duly prepared it would be found proof not only against "silver

bullets," but also against even the "charmed bullet" of German

notoriety. Thus runs the charm:--

"On Christmas daie at night, a thread must be sponne of flax, by a

little virgine girle, in the name of the divell; and it must be by hir

woven, and also _wrought with the needle_. In the brest or forepart

thereof must be made _with needleworke_ two heads; on the head at the

right side must be a hat and a long beard, and the left head must have

on a crowne, and it must be so horrible that it maie resemble

Belzebub; and on each side of the wastcote must be _wrought_ a

crosse."

The newspaper, that now mighty political engine, that "thewe and

sinew" of the fourth estate of the realm, took its rise in Elizabeth's

day. How would her legislators have been overwhelmed with amazement

could they have beheld, in dim perspective, this child of the press,

scarcely less now the offspring of the imagination than those chimeras

of their own time to which we have been alluding; and would not the

wrinkled brow of the modern politician be unconsciously smoothened,

would not the careworn and profound diplomatist "gather up his face

into a smile before he was aware," if the FIRST NEWSPAPER were

suddenly placed before him? It is not indeed in existence, but was

published under the title of "_The English Mercurie_," in April, 1588,

on the first appearance near the shores of England of the Spanish

Armada, a crisis which caused this innovation on the usual public

news-letter circulated in manuscript. No. 50, dated July 23, 1588, is

the first now in existence; and as the publication only began in

April, it shows they must have been issued frequently. We have seen

this No. 50, which is preserved in the British Museum.[122]

In it are no advertisements--no fashions--no law reports--no court

circular--no fashionable arrivals--no fashionable intelligence--no

murders--no robberies--no reviews--no crim. cons.--no elopements--no

price of stocks--no mercantile intelligence--no police reports--no

"leaders,"--no literary memoranda--no poets' corner--no spring

meetings--no radical demonstrations--no conservative dinners--but

"The

"English Mercurie,

"Published by AUTHORITIE,

"For the Prevention of False Reportes,

"_Whitehall, July 23, 1588._"

Contains three pages and a half, small quarto, of matter of fact

information.

Two pages respecting the Armada then seen "neare the Lizard, making

for the entrance of the Channell," and appearing on the surface of the

water "like floating castles."

A page of news from Ostend, where "nothing was talked of but the

intended invasion of England. His Highnesse the Prince of Parma having

compleated his preparationes, of which the subjoined Accounte might be

depended upon as _exacte and authentique_."

Something to say--for a newspaper.

And a few lines dated "London, July 13, of the lord mayor, aldermen,

common councilmen, and lieutenancie of this great citie" waiting on

Her Majesty with assurances of support, and receiving a gracious

reception from her.

Such was the newspaper of 1588.

* * * * *

The great events of Elizabeth's reign, in war, in politics, in

legislation, belong to the historian; the great march of mind, the

connecting link which that age formed between the darkness of the

preceding ones (for during the period of the wars of the Roses all

sorts of art and science retrograded), and the high cultivation of

later days, it is the province of the metaphysician and philosopher to

analyse; and even the lighter characteristics of the time have become

so familiar through the medium of many modern and valuable works, that

we have ventured only to touch very superficially on some few of the

more prominent of them.

FOOTNOTES:

[120] Harrison.

[121] From this separate mention of _tapisterie_ and _arras-work_ by

so accurate a describer as Harrison, it would seem that tapestry of

the needle alone was not, even yet, quite exploded.

[122] Sloane MSS. No. 4106.

CHAPTER XIX.

TAPESTRY OF THE SPANISH ARMADA, BETTER KNOWN AS TAPESTRY OF THE HOUSE

OF LORDS.

"He did blow with his wind, and they were scattered."

'Inscription on the Medal.'

The year 1588 had been foretold by astrologers to be a wonderful year,

the "climacterical year of the world;" and the public mind of England

was at that period sufficiently credulous and superstitious to be

affected with vague presentiments, even if the preparation of an

hostile armada so powerful as to be termed "invincible," had not

seemed to engraft on these vague surmises too real and fearful a

groundwork of truth.

The preparations of Philip II. in Spain, combined with those of the

Duke of Parma in the Low Countries, and furthered by the valued and

effective benediction of the shaken and tottering, but still

influential and powerful head of the Roman church, had produced a

hostile array which, with but too much probability of success,

threatened the conquest of England, and its subjugation to the papal

yoke. Not since the Norman Conquest had any event occurred which, if

successful, would be fraught with results so harassing and distressing

to the established inhabitants of the island. Though the Norman

Conquest had, undoubtedly, _in the course of time_, produced a

beneficial and civilising and ennobling influence on the island, it

was long and bitter years ere the groans of the subjugated and

oppressed Anglo-Saxons had merged in the contented peacefulness of a

united people.

Yet William was certainly of a severe temper, and was incited by the

unquenchable opposition of the English to a cruel and exterminating

policy. Philip of Spain seemed not to promise milder measures. He was

a bigot, and moreover hated the English with an utter hatred. During

his union with Mary he had utterly failed to gain their good will, and

his hatred to them increased in an exact ratio to the failure of his

desired influence with them. Neither time, nor trouble, nor care, nor

expense, was spared in this his decided invasion; and it is said that

from Italy, Sicily, and even America, were drafted the most

experienced captains and soldiers to aid his cause. Well, then, might

England look with anxiety, and even with terror, to this threatened

and fast approaching event.

But her energies were fully equal to the emergency. Elizabeth, now in

the full plenitude of her power, was at the acme of her influence over

the wills, and in a great degree over the affections of her subjects,

at least over by far the greater portion of them; one factious and

discontented party there was, but too insufficient to be any effectual

barrier to her designs. And the cause was a popular one: Protestants

and Romanists joined in deprecating a foreign yoke. Her powerful and

commanding energies did not forsake her. Her appeal to her subjects

was replied to with heart-thrilling readiness, the city of London

setting a noble example; for when ministers desired from it five

thousand men and fifteen ships, the lord mayor, in behalf of the city,

craved their sovereign to accept of ten thousand soldiers and thirty

ships.

This spirited precedent was followed all through the empire, all

classes vied with each other in contributing their utmost quota of

aid, by means and by personal service, and amongst many similar

instances it is recorded of "that noble, vertuous, honourable man, the

Viscount Montague, that he now came, though he was very sickly, and in

age, with a full resolution to live and dye in defence of the queene,

and of his countrie, against all invaders, whether it were pope, king,

and potentate whatsoever, and in that quarrell he would hazard his

life, his children, his landes and goods. And to shew his mynde

agreeably thereto, he came personally himselfe before the queene, with

his band of horsemen, being almost two hundred; the same being led by

his owne sonnes, and with them a yong child, very comely, seated on

horseback, being the heire of his house, that is, ye eldest sonne to

his sonne and heire; a matter much noted of many, to see a

grandfather, father, and sonne, at one time on horsebacks afore a

queene for her service."

For three years had Philip been preparing, in all parts of his

dominions, for this overwhelming expedition, and his equipments were

fully equal to his extensive preparations; and so popular was the

project in Spain, and so ardent were its votaries, that there was not

a family of any note which had not contributed some of its dearest and

nearest members; there were also one hundred and eighty Capuchins,

Dominicans, Jesuits, and Mendicant friars; and so great was the

enthusiastic anticipation, that even females hired vessels to follow

the fleet which contained those they loved; two or three of these were

driven by the storm on the coast of France.

This Armada consisted of about one hundred and fifty ships, most of

which were of an uncommon size, strength, and thickness, more like

floating castles than anything else; and to this unwieldy size may,

probably, be attributed much of their discomfiture. For the greater

holiness of their action, twelve were called the Twelve Apostles; and

a pinnace of the Andalusian squadron, commanded by Don Pedro de

Valdez, was called the "Holy Ghost." The fleet is said to have

contained thirty-two thousand persons, and to have cost every day

thirty thousand ducats.

The Duke of Parma's contemporary preparations were also prodigious,

and of a nature which plainly declared the full certainty and

confidence in which the invaders indulged of making good their object.

But the preparations were doomed not to be even tried. The finesse and

manoeuvres of the shrewd Sir Francis Walsingham[123] had caused the

invasion to be retarded for a whole year, and by this time England

was fully prepared for her foes. The result is known. The hollow

treaty of peace into which Parma had entered in order, when all

preparations were completed, to take her by surprise, was entered into

with an equal share of hypocritical policy by Elizabeth. "So (says an

old historian) as they seemed on both sides to sew the foxe's skin to

the lion's."

So powerful was the effect on the public mind, not only of this

projected enterprise, but of its almost unhoped for discomfiture, that

all possible means were taken to commemorate the event. One method

resorted to was the manufacture of tapestry representing a series of

subjects connected with it. At that time Flanders excelled all others

in the manufacture of tapestry, it was scarcely indeed introduced into

England; and our ancestors had a series of ten charts, designed by

Henry Cornelius Vroom, a celebrated painter of Haarlem, from which

their Flemish neighbours worked beautiful draperies, which ornamented

the walls of the House of Lords.

At the time of the Union with Ireland, when considerable repairs and

alterations were made here, these magnificent tapestries were taken

down, cleaned, and replaced, with the addition of large frames of dark

stained wood, which set off the work and colouring to advantage. They

formed a series of ten pictures, round which portraits of the

distinguished officers who commanded the fleet were wrought into a

border.

With a prescience, which might now almost seem prophetic, Mr. John

Pine, engraver, published in 1739 a series of plates taken from these

tapestries; and "because," says he, "time, or accident, or moths may

deface these valuable shadows, we have endeavoured to preserve their

likeness in the preceding prints, which, by being multiplied and

dispersed in various hands, may meet with that security from the

closets of the curious, which the originals must scarce always hope

for, even from the sanctity of the place they are kept in."

"On the 17th day of July, 1588, the English discovered the Spanish

fleet with lofty turrets like castles, in front like a half moon, the

wing thereof spreading out about the length of seven miles, sailing

very slowly, though with full sails, the winds being as it were tired

with carrying them, and the ocean groaning under the weight of them."

This forms the subject of the first tableau. The English commanders

suffered the Spaniards to pass them unmolested, in order that they

might hang upon their rear, and harass them when they should be

involved in the Channel; for the English navy were unable to confront

such a power in direct and close action. The second piece represents

them thus, near Fowey, the English coast displayed in the back-ground,

diversified perhaps somewhat too elaborately into hill and dale, and

the foliage scattered somewhat too regularly in lines over each hill,

but very pretty nevertheless. A small village with its church and

spire appears just at the water edge, Eddystone lighthouse lifts its

head above the waters, and, fit emblem of the patriotism which now

burned throughout the land, and even glowed on the waters, a huge sea

monster uprears itself in threatening attitude against the invading

host, and shows a countenance hideous enough to scare any but

Spaniards from its native shores.

No. 3 represents the first engagement between the hostile fleets, and

also the subsequent sailing of the Spanish Armada up the channel,

closely followed by the English, whose ships were so much lighter,

that in a running warfare of this kind they had greatly the advantage.

The sea is alive too with dolphins and other strange fish, with right

British hearts, as it has been said that "they seemed to oppose

themselves with fierce and grim looks to the progress of the Spanish

fleet." The view of the coast here is very good; and, where it retires

from Start Point so as to form a bay or harbour, the perspective is

really admirably indicated by two vessels dimly defined in the

horizon.

The views of the coast are varied and interesting; and the distances

and perspective views are much more accurately delineated than was

usual at the time; but, as we have remarked, they were designed by an

eminent painter, and one whose particular _forte_ was the delineation

of shipping and naval scenes.

The pictures are certainly as a series devoid of variety. In two of

them the Calais shore is introduced; and the intermixture of

fortifications, churches, houses, and animated spectators, eagerly

crowding to behold the fleets sailing by, produces an enlivening and

busy scene, which, set off by the varied, lively, and appropriate

colouring of the tapestry, would have a most striking effect. But the

man who, unmoved by the excitement about him, is calmly fishing under

the walls, without even turning his head toward the scene of tumult,

must be blessed with an apathy of disposition which the poor enraged

dolphins and porpoises might have envied.

With these exceptions the tapestries are all sea pieces with only a

distant view of the coast, and portray the two fleets in different

stages of their progress, sometimes with engagements between single

ships, but generally in an apparent state of truce, the English always

the pursuers, and the Spaniards generally drawn up in form of a

crescent. The last however shows the invading fleet hurriedly and in

disorder sailing away, when bad weather, the Duke of Parma's delay,

and a close engagement of fourteen hours, in which they "suffered

grievously," having "had to endure all the heavy cannonading of their

triumphant opponents, while they were struggling to get clear of the

shallows," convinced them of the impossibility of a successful close

to their enterprise, and made them resolve to take advantage of a

southern breeze to make their passage up the North sea, and round

Scotland home.

"He that fights and runs away,

May live to fight another day."

So, however, did _not_ the Spaniards. "About these north islands their

mariners and soldiers died daily by multitudes, as by their bodies

cast on land did appear. The Almighty ordered the winds to be so

contrary to this proud navy, that it was, by force, dissevered on the

high seas west upon Ireland; and so great a number of them driven into

sundry dangerous bays, and upon rocks, and there cast away; some

sunk, some broken, some on the sands, and some burnt by the Spaniards

themselves."

Misfortune clung to them; storm and tempest on the sea, and

inhospitable and cruel treatment when they were forced on shore so

reduced them, that of this magnificent Armada only sixty shattered

vessels found their home; and their humbled commander, the Duke de

Medina Sidonia, was led to understand that his presence was not

desired at court, and that a private country residence would be the

most suitable.

It was on this occasion, when the instant danger was past but by no

means entirely done away, as for some time it was supposed that the

Armada, after recruiting in some northern station, would return, that

Elizabeth with a general's truncheon in her hand rode through the

ranks of her army at Tilbury, and addressed them in a style which

caused them to break out into deafening and tumultuous shouts and

cries of love, and honour, and obedience to death. Thus magnificently

the English heroine spoke:

"My loving People,--We have been persuaded by some that are careful of

our safety to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed Multitudes;

but I assure you I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and

loving People. Let Tyrants fear; I have always so behaved myself that,

under GOD, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the

loyal Hearts and Goodwill of my Subjects; and therefore I am come

amongst you, as you see at this time, not for my Recreation and

Disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the Battle, to

live and die amongst you all; to lay down for my GOD, and for my

kingdom, and for my People, my Honour, and my Blood, even in the dust.

I know I have the body but of a weak and feeble Woman, but I have the

Heart and Stomach of a King, and of a King of England too; and think

foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any Prince of Europe should dare to

invade the Borders of my Realm; to which, rather than any Dishonour

shall grow by me, I myself will take up Arms, I myself will be your

General, Judge, and Rewarder of every one of your Virtues in the

Field; I know already, for your forwardness, you have deserved Rewards

and Crowns; and we do assure you, in the word of a Prince, they shall

be duly paid you. In the mean time my Lieutenant-general shall be in

my stead, than whom never Prince commanded a more noble or worthy

subject; not doubting but, by your obedience to my General, by your

Concord in the camp, and your Valour in the Field, we shall shortly

have a famous victory over those Enemies of my GOD, of my Kingdoms,

and of my People."

The tapestry, the magnificent memorial of this great event, was lost

irreparably in the devastating fire of 1834. Some fragments, it is

said, were preserved, but we have not been able to ascertain this

fact. One portion still exists at Plymouth, though shorn of its

pristine brilliancy, as some of the silver threads were drawn out by

the economists of the time of the Commonwealth. This piece was cut out

to make way for a gallery at the time of the trial of Queen Caroline,

was secreted by a German servant of the Lord Chamberlain, and sold by

him to a broker who offered it to Government for 500_l._

Some inquiry was made into the circumstances, which, however, do not

seem to have excited very great interest, since the relic was

ultimately bought by the Bishop of Landaff (Van Mildert) for 20_l._ By

him it was presented to the corporation of Plymouth, who still possess

it.

FOOTNOTE:

[123] He contrived, by means of a Venetian priest, his spy, to obtain

a copy of a letter from Philip to the Pope; a gentleman of the

bedchamber taking the keys of the cabinet from the pockets of his

holiness as he slept. Upon intelligence thus obtained, Walsingham got

those Spanish bills protested at Genoa which should have supplied

money for the preparations.

CHAPTER XX.

ON STITCHERY.

"Here have I cause in men just blame to find,

That in their proper praise too partial bee,

And not indifferent to womankind,

* * * * *

Scarse do they spare to one, or two, or three,

Rowme in their writtes; yet the same writing small

Does all their deedes deface, and dims their glories all."

Faerie Queene.

"Christine, whiche understode these thynges of Dame

Reason, replyed upon that in this manere. Madame Ise wel

{that} ye myght fynde ynowe & of grete nombre of women

praysed in scyences and in crafte; but knowe ye ony that

by {the} vertue of their felynge & of subtylte of wytte

_haue founde of themselfe_ ony newe craftes and scyences

necessary, good, & couenable that were neuer founde

before nor knowne? for it is not so grete maystry to

folowe and to lerne after ony other scyence founde and

comune before, as it is to fynde of theymselfe some newe

thynge not accustomed before.

"_Answere._--Ne doubte ye not {the} contrary my dere

frende but many craftes and scyences ryght notable hathe

ben founde by the wytte and subtylte of women, as moche

by speculacyon of understandynge, the whiche sheweth

them by wrytynge, as in craftes, {that} sheweth theym

_in werkynge of handes_ & of laboure."

_The Boke of the Cyte of Ladyes._

Again we must lament that the paucity of historical record lays us

under the necessity of concluding, by inference, what we would fain

have displayed by direct testimony. The respectable authority quoted

above affirms that "many craftes and scyences ryght notable hathe ben

founde by the wytte and subtylte of women," and it specifies

particularly "werkynge of handes," by which we suppose the "talented"

author means needlework. That the necessity for this pretty art was

first created by woman, no one, we think, will disallow; and that it

was first practised, as it has been subsequently perfected, by her, is

a fact of which we feel the most perfect conviction.

This conviction has been forced upon us by a train of reasoning which

will so readily suggest itself to the mind of all our readers, that we

content ourselves with naming the result, assured that it is

unnecessary to trouble them with the intervening steps. One only link

in the chain of "circumstantial evidence" will we adduce, and that is

afforded by the ancient engraving to which we have before alluded in

our remarks upon Eve's needle and thread. There whilst our "general

mother" is stitching away at the fig-leaves in the most edifying

manner possible, our "first father," far from trying to "put in a

stitch for himself," is gazing upon her in the most utter amazement.

And while she plies her busy task as if she had been born to

stitchery, his eyes, _not_ his fingers,

"Follow the nimble fingers of the fair,"

with every indication of superlative wonder and admiration.

In fact, it is no slight argument in favour of the original invention

of sewing by women, that men very rarely have wit enough to learn it,

even when invented. There has been no lack of endeavour, even amongst

the world's greatest and mightiest, but poor "work" have they made of

it. Hercules lost all the credit of his mighty labours from his

insignificance at the spinning wheel, and the sceptre of Sardanapalus

passed from his grasp as he was endeavouring to "finger the fine

needle and nyse thread."

These love-stricken heroes might have said with Gower--had he then

said it--

"What things she bid me do, I do,

And where she bid me go, I go.

And where she likes to call, I come,

I serve, I bow, I look, I lowte,

My eye followeth her about.

What so she will, so will I,

When she would set, I kneel by.

And when she stands, then will I stand,

_And when she taketh her work in hand_,

Of _wevyng or of embroidrie_.

Then can I _only_ muse and prie,

Upon her fingers long and small."

Our modern Hercules, the Leviathan of literature, was not more

successful.

_Dr. Johnson._--"Women have a great advantage that they may take up

with little things, without disgracing themselves; a man cannot,

except with fiddling. Had I learnt to fiddle I should have done

nothing else."

_Boswell._--"Pray, Sir, did you ever play on any musical instrument?"

_Dr. Johnson._--"No, Sir; I once bought a flageolet, but I never made

out a tune."

_Boswell._--"A flageolet, Sir! So small an instrument? I should have

liked to hear you play on the violoncello. _That_ should have been

your instrument."

_Dr. Johnson._--"Sir, I might as well have played on the violoncello

as another; but I should have done nothing else. No, Sir; a man would

never undertake great things could he be amused with small. I once

tried knotting; Dempster's sister undertook to teach me, but _I could

not learn it_."

_Boswell._--"So, Sir; it will be related in pompous narrative, 'once

for his amusement he tried knotting, nor did this Hercules disdain the

distaff.'"

_Dr. Johnson._--"Knitting of stockings is a good amusement. As a

freeman of Aberdeen, I should be a knitter of stockings."

Nor was Dr. Johnson singular in his high appreciation of the value of

some sort of stitchery to his own half of the human race, if their

intellects unfortunately had not been too obtuse for its acquisition.

The great censor of the public morals and manners a century ago, the

Spectator, recommends the same thing, though with his usual policy he

feigns merely to be the medium of another's advice.

"Mr. Spectator,--You are always ready to receive any useful hint or

proposal, and such, I believe, you will think one that may put you in

a way to employ the most idle part of the kingdom; I mean that part of

mankind who are known by the name of the women's men, beaux, &c. Mr.

Spectator, you are sensible these pretty gentlemen are not made for

any manly employments, and for want of business are often as much in

the vapours as the ladies. Now what I propose is this, that since

knotting is again in fashion, which has been found a very pretty

amusement, that you will recommend it to these gentlemen as something

that may make them useful to the ladies they admire. And since it is

not inconsistent with any game or other diversion, for it may be done

in the playhouse, in their coaches, at the tea-table, and, in short,

in all places where they come for the sake of the ladies (except at

church, be pleased to forbid it there to prevent mistakes), it will be

easily complied with. It is besides an employment that allows, as we

see by the fair sex, of many graces, which will make the beaux more

readily come into it; and it shows a white hand and a diamond ring to

great advantage; it leaves the eyes at full liberty to be employed as

before, as also the thoughts and the tongue. In short, it seems in

every respect so proper that it is needless to urge it further, by

speaking of the satisfaction these male knotters will find when they

see their work mixed up in a fringe, and worn by the fair lady for

whom, and with whom, it was done. Truly, Mr. Spectator, I cannot but

be pleased I have hit upon something that these gentlemen are capable

of; for it is sad so considerable a part of the kingdom (I mean for

numbers) should be of no manner of use. I shall not trouble you

further at this time, but only to say, that I am always your reader

and generally your admirer. C. B.

"P.S.--The sooner these fine gentlemen are set to work the better;

there being at this time several fringes that stay only for more

hands."

But, alas! the sanguine writer was mistaken in supposing that at last

gentlemen had found a something "of which they were capable." The days

of knotting passed away before they had made any proficiency in it; nor

have we ever heard that they have adopted any other branch or stitch of

this extensive art. There is variety enough to satisfy anybody, and

there are gradations enough in the stitches to descend to any capacity

but a man's. There are tambour stitch--satin--chain--finny--new--bred--

ferne--and queen-stitches; there is slabbing--veining--and button stitch;

seeding--roping--and open stitch: there is sockseam--herring-bone--long

stitch--and cross stitch: there is rosemary stitch--Spanish stitch--and

Irish stitch: there is back stitch--overcast--and seam stitch:

hemming--felling--and basting: darning--grafting--and patching: there

is whip stitch--and fisher stitch: there is fine drawing--gathering--

marking--trimming--and tucking.

Truly all this does require some +nous+, and the lords of the creation

are more to be pitied than blamed for that paucity of intellect which

deprives them of "woman's pretty excuse for thought."

Raillery apart, sewing is in itself an agreeable occupation, it is

essentially a useful one; in many of its branches it is quite

ornamental, and it is a gentle, a graceful, an elegant, and a truly

feminine occupation. It causes the solitary hours of domestic life to

glide more smoothly away, and in those social unpretending reunions

which in country life and in secluded districts are yet not abolished,

it takes away from the formality of sitting for conversation, abridges

the necessity for scandal, or, to say the least of it, as we have

heard even ungallant lordly man allow, it keeps us out of mischief.

And there are frequent and oft occurring circumstances which invest it

with characteristics of a still higher order. How many of "the sweet

solicitudes that life beguile" are connected with this interesting

occupation! either in preparing habiliments for those dependent on our

care, and for love of whom many an unnecessary stitch which may tend

to extra adornment is put in; or in those numberless pretty and not

unuseful tokens of remembrance, which, passing from friend to friend,

soften our hearts by the intimation they convey, that we have been

cared for in our absence, and that while the world looked dark and

desolate about us, unforgetting hearts far, far away were holding us

in remembrance, busy fingers were occupied in our behoof. Oh! a

reticule, a purse, a slipper, how valueless soever in itself, is, when

fraught with these home memories, worth that which the mines of

Golconda could not purchase. And of such a nature would be the

feelings which suggested these well-known but exquisite lines:--

"The twentieth year is well nigh past,

Since first our sky was overcast,

Ah, would that this might be the last!

My Mary!

"Thy spirits have a fainter flow,

I see thee daily weaker grow,

'Twas my distress that brought thee low,

My Mary!

"Thy needles, once a shining store,

For my sake restless heretofore,

Now rust disused and shine no more,

My Mary!

"For though thou gladly would'st fulfil

The same kind office for me still,

Thy sight now seconds not thy will,

My Mary!

"But well thou play'dst the housewife's part,

And all thy threads with magic art,

Have wound themselves about this heart,

My Mary!"

An interesting circumstance connected with needlework is mentioned in

the delightful memoir written by lady Murray, of her mother, the

excellent and admirable Lady Grisell Baillie. The allusion itself is

very slight, merely to the making of a frill or a collar; but the

circumstances connected with it are deeply interesting, and place

before us a vivid picture of the deprivations of a family of rank and

consequence in "troublous times," and moreover offer us a portrait

from _real life_ of true feminine excellence, of a young creature of

rank and family, of cultivated and refined tastes and of high

connexions, utterly forgetting all these in the cheerful and

conscientious discharge, for years, of the most arduous and humble

duties, and even of menial and revolting offices. It may be that my

readers all are not so well acquainted with this little book as

ourselves, and, if so, they will not consider the following extract

too long.

"They lived three years and a half in Holland, and in that time she

made a second voyage to Scotland about business. Her father went by

the borrowed name of Dr. Wallace, and did not stir out for fear of

being discovered, though who he was, was no secret to the wellwishers

of the revolution. Their great desire was to have a good house, as

their greatest comfort was at home; and all the people of the same way

of thinking, of which there were great numbers, were continually with

them. They paid for their house what was very extravagant for their

income, nearly a fourth part; they could not afford keeping any

servant, but a little girl to wash the dishes.

"All the time they were there, there was not a week that my mother did

not sit up two nights, to do the business that was necessary. She went

to market, went to the mill to have the corn ground, which it seems is

the way with good managers there, dressed the linen, cleaned the

house, made ready the dinner, mended the children's stockings and

other clothes, made what she could for them, and, in short, did

everything.

"Her sister, Christian, who was a year or two younger, diverted her

father and mother and the rest who were fond of music. Out of their

small income they bought a harpsichord for little money, but is a

_Rucar_ now in my custody, and most valuable. My aunt played and sang

well, and had a great deal of life and humour, but no turn to

business. Though my mother had the same qualifications, and liked it

as well as she did, she was forced to drudge; and many jokes used to

pass betwixt the sisters about their different occupations. Every

morning before six my mother lighted her father's fire in his study,

then waked him (she was ever a good sleeper, which blessing, among

many others, she inherited from him); then got him, what he usually

took as soon as he got up, warm small beer with a spoonful of bitters

in it, which he continued his whole life, and of which I have the

receipt.

"Then she took up the children and brought them all to his room, where

he taught them everything that was fit for their age; some Latin,

others French, Dutch, geography, writing, reading, English, &c.; and

my grandmother taught them what was necessary on her part. Thus he

employed and diverted himself all the time he was there, not being

able to afford putting them to school; and my mother, when she had a

moment's time, took a lesson with the rest in French and Dutch, and

also diverted herself with music. I have now a book of songs of her

writing when there; many of them interrupted, half-writ, some broke

off in the middle of a sentence. She had no less a turn for mirth and

society than any of the family, when she could come at it without

neglecting what she thought more necessary.

"Her eldest brother, Patrick, who was nearest her age, and bred up

together, was her most dearly beloved. My father was there, forfeited

and exiled, in the same situation with themselves. She had seen him

for the first time in the prison with his father, not long before he

suffered;[124] and from that time their hearts were engaged. Her

brother and my father were soon got in to ride in the Prince of

Orange's Guards, till they were better provided for in the army, which

they were before the Revolution. They took their turn in standing

sentry at the Prince's gate, but always contrived to do it together,

and the strict friendship and intimacy that then began, continued to

the last.

"Though their station was then low, they kept up their spirits; the

prince often dined in public, then all were admitted to see him: when

any pretty girl wanted to go in they set their halberts across the

door and would not let her pass till she gave each of them a kiss,

which made them think and call them very pert soldiers. I could relate

many stories on this subject; my mother could talk for hours and never

tire of it, always saying it was the happiest part of her life. Her

_constant attention was to have her brother appear right in his linen

and dress_; they wore little point cravats and cuffs, which many a

night she sat up to have in as good order for him as any in the place;

and one of their greatest expenses was in dressing him as he ought to

be.

"As their house was always full of the unfortunate people banished

like themselves, they seldom went to dinner without three, four, or

five of them to share it with them; and many a hundred times I have

heard her say she could never look back upon their manner of living

there without thinking it a miracle. They had no want, but plenty of

everything they desired, and much contentment, and always declared it

the most pleasing part of her life, though they were not without their

little distresses; but to them they were rather jokes than grievances.

The professors and men of learning in the place came often to see my

grandfather; the best entertainment he could give them was a glass of

alabast beer, which was a better kind of ale than common. He sent his

son Andrew, the late Lord Kimmerghame, a boy, to draw some for them

in the cellar, and he brought it up with great diligence, but in the

other hand the spigot of the barrel. My grandfather said, 'Andrew!

what is that in your hand?' When he saw it he ran down with speed, but

the beer was all run out before he got there. This occasioned much

mirth, though perhaps they did not well know where to get more.

"It is the custom there to gather money for the poor from house to

house, with a bell to warn people to give it. One night the bell came,

and no money was there in the house but a orkey, which is a doit, the

smallest of all coin; everybody was so ashamed no one would go to give

it, it was so little, and put it from one to the other: at last my

grandfather said, 'Well, then, I'll go with it; we can do no more than

give all we have.' They were often reduced to this by the delay of the

ships coming from Scotland with their small remittances; then they put

the little plate they had (all of which they carried with them) in the

lumber, which is pawning it, till the ships came: and that very plate

they brought with them again to Scotland, and left no debt behind

them."

This is a long but not an uninteresting digression, and we were led to

it from the recollection that Lady Grisell Baillie, when encompassed

with heavy cares, not only sat up a night or two every week, but felt

a satisfaction, a pleasure, in doing so, to execute the needlework

required by her family. And when sewing with a view to the comfort and

satisfaction of others, the needlewoman--insignificant as the details

of her employment may appear--has much internal satisfaction; she has

a definite vocation, an important function.

Nor few nor insignificant are her handmaidens, one or other of whom is

ever at her side, inspiriting her to her task. Her most constant

attendant is a matron of stayed and sober appearance, called UTILITY.

The needlewoman's productions are found to vary greatly, and this

variation is ascribed with truth to the influencing suggestions of the

attendant for the time being.

Thus, for instance, when Utility is her companion all her labours are

found to result in articles of which the material is unpretending, and

the form simple; for however she may be led wandering by the vagaries

of her other co-mates, it is always found that in moments of steady

reflection she listens with the most implicit deference to the

intimations of this her experienced and most respectable friend.

But occasionally, indeed frequently, Utility brings with her a fair

and interesting relative, called TASTE; a gentle being, of modest and

retiring mien, of most unassuming deportment, but of exquisite grace;

and it is even observed that the needlewoman is more happy in her

labours, and more universally approved when accompanied by these two

friends, than by any other of the more eccentric ones who occasionally

take upon themselves to direct her steps.

Of these latter, FASHION is one of her most frequent visitors, and it

is very often found that as she approaches Utility and Taste retire.

This is not, however, invariably the case. Sometimes the three agree

cordially together, and their united suffrages and support enhance

the fame of the needlewoman to the very highest pitch; but this happy

cordiality is of infrequent occurrence, and usually of short duration.

Fashion is fickle, varying, inconstant; given to sudden partialities

and to disruptions unlooked for, and as sudden. She laughs to scorn

Utility's grave maxims, and exaggerates the graceful suggestions of

Taste until they appear complete caricatures. Consequently they,

offended, retire; and Fashion, heedless, holds on her own course,

keeping the needlewoman in complete subjection to her arbitrary rule,

which is often enforced in her transient absence by her own peculiar

friend and intimate--CAPRICE. This fantastic being has the greatest

influence over Fashion, who having no staple character of her own, is

easily led every way at the beck of this whimsical and absurd

dictator. The productions which emanate from the hands of the

needlewoman under their guidance are much sought for, much looked at,

but soon fall into utter contempt.

But there is another handmaiden created for the delight and solace of

mankind in general, and who from the earliest days, even until now,

has been the loving friend of the needlewoman; ever whispering

suggestions in her ear, or tracing patterns on her work, or gently

guiding her finger through the fantastic maze. She is of the most

exquisite beauty: fragile in form as the gossamer that floats on a

summer's breath--brilliant in appearance as the colours that illumine

the rainbow. So light, that she floats on an atom; so powerful that

she raises empires, nay, the whole earth by her might. Her habits are

the most vagrant imaginable; she is indeed the veriest little gossip

in creation, but her disposition to roam is not more boundless than

her power to gratify it.

One instant she is in the depths of the ocean, loitering upon coral

beds; the next above the stars, revelling in the immensity of space;

one moment she tracks a comet in his course, the next hobnobs with the

sea-king, or foots a measure with mermaids. A most skilful architect,

she will build palaces on the clouds radiant with splendour and

beautiful as herself; then, demolishing them with a breath, she flies

to some moss-grown ruin of the earth, where a glimpse of her

countenance drives away the bat and the owl; the wallflower, the moss,

and the ivy, are displaced by the rose, the lily, and the myrtle; the

damp building is clothed in freshness and splendour, the lofty halls

resound with the melody of the lute and the harp, and the whole scene

is vivid with light and life, with brilliancy and beauty. Again, in an

instant, all is mute, and dim, and desolate, and the versatile

sorceress is hunting the otter with an Esquimaux; or, pillowed on

roses whose fragrance is wafted by softest zephyrs around, she listens

to the strain which the Bulbul pours; or, wrapped in deepest maze of

philosophic thought, she "treads the long extent of backward time," by

the gigantic sepulchres of Egyptian kings; or else she flies "from the

tempest-rocked Hebrides or the icebound Northern Ocean--from the red

man's wilderness of the west--from the steppes of Central Asia--from

the teeming swamps of the Amazon--from the sirocco deserts of

Africa--from the tufted islands of the Pacific--from the heaving

flanks of AEtna--or from the marbled shores of Greece;"--and draws the

whole circle of her enchantments round the needlewoman's fingers,

within the walls of an humble English cottage.

But it were equally unnecessary and useless to dilate on her fairy

wanderings. Suffice it to say that so great is the beneficent

liberality of this fascinating being, that every corner of her rich

domain is open to the highest or lowest of mortals without reserve;

and so lovely is she herself, and so bewitching is her company, that

few, few indeed, are they who do not cherish her as a bosom friend and

as the dearest of companions.

Bearing, however, her vagrant characteristics in mind, we shall not be

surprised at the peculiar ideas some people entertain of her haunts,

nor at the strange places in which they search for her person. One

would hardly believe that hundreds of thousands have sought her

through the smoke, din, and turmoil of those lines "where all

antipathies to comfort dwell,"--the railroads; while others, more

adventurous, plough the ocean deep, scale the mighty mountains, or

soar amid the clouds for her; or, strange to say, have sought her in

the battle field 'mid scenes of bloody death. Like Hotspur, such would

pluck her--

"From the pale-faced moon;"

or would

"Dive into the bottom of the deep,

Where fathom-line could never touch the ground"

for her.

But she is a lady before whom strength and pride fall nerveless and

abased; her gracious smiles are to be wooed, not commanded; her bright

presence may be won, not forced;

"For spotless, and holy, and gentle, and bright,

She glides o'er the earth like an angel of light."

Possessing all the gentleness of her mother--_Taste_, she shrinks from

everything rude or abrupt; and when, as has frequently been the case,

persons have attempted to lay violent hands upon her, she has invariably

eluded their vigilance, by leaving in her place, tricked out in her

superabundant ornaments to blind them, her half-brother--_Whim_, who

sprang from the same father--_Wit_, but by another mother--_Humour_. She

herself, wanderer as she is, is not without her favourite haunts, in

which she lingers as if even loath to quit them at all.

Finally, wherever yet the _accomplished_ needlewoman has been found,

in the Jewish tabernacle of old--in the Grecian dome where the "Tale

of Troy divine" glowed on the canvass--or in the bower of the

high-born beauty of the "bright days of the sword and the lance"--in

the cell of the pale recluse--or in the turretted prison of the royal

captive--there has FANCY been her devoted friend, her inseparable

companion.

FOOTNOTE:

[124] She was then a mere child, not more, if I remember rightly, than

twelve years old.

CHAPTER XXI.

"LES ANCIENNES TAPISSERIES;" TAPESTRY OF ST. MARY'S HALL, COVENTRY;

TAPESTRY OF HAMPTON COURT.

"There is a sanctity in the past."

Bulwer.

All monuments of antiquity are so speedily passing away, all traces of

those bygone generations on which the mind loves to linger, and which

in their dim and indistinct memories exercise a spell, a holy often,

and a purifying spell on the imagination are so fleeting, and when

_irrevocably_ gone will be so lamented--that all testimonies which

throw certain light on the habits and manners of the past, how slight

soever the testimonies they afford, how trivial soever the

characteristics they display, are of the highest possible value to an

enlightened people, who apply the experience of the past to its

legitimate and noblest use, the guidance and improvement of the

present.

In this point of view the work which forms the subject of this

chapter[125] assumes a value which its intrinsic worth--beautiful as

is its execution--would not impart to it; and it is thus rendered not

less valuable as an historical record, than it is attractive as a work

of taste.

"La chez eux, (we quote from the preface to the work itself,) c'est un

siege ou un tournoi; ici un festin, plus loin une chasse; et toujours,

chasse, festin, tournoi, siege, tout cela est _pourtraict au vif_,

comme aurait dit Montaigne, tout cela nous retrace au naturel la vie

de nos peres, nous montre leurs chateaux, leurs eglises, leurs

costumes, leurs armes et meme, grace aux legendes explicatives, leur

langage a diverses epoques. Il y a mieux. Si nous nous en rapportons a

l'inventaire de Charles V., execute en 1379, toute la litterature

francaise des siecles feconds qui precederent celui de ce sage

monarque, aurait ete par ces ordres traduite en laine."

This book consists of representations of all the existing ancient

tapestries which activity and research can draw from the hiding-places

of ages, copied in the finest outline engraving, with letter-press

descriptions of each plate. They are published in numbers, and in a

style worthy of the object. We do not despair of seeing this spirited

example followed in our own country, where many a beautiful specimen

of ancient tapestry, still capable of renovation by care--is

mouldering unthought of in the lumber-rooms of our ancient mansions.

We have seen twenty-one numbers of this work, with which we shall deal

freely: excepting, however, the eight parts which are entirely

occupied by the Bayeux Tapestry. Our own chapters on the subject were

written before we were fortunate enough to obtain a sight of these,

which include the whole of the correspondence on the tapestry to

which we in our sketch alluded.

LA TAPISSERIE DE NANCY.--"aurait une illustre origine, et remonterait

a une assez haute antiquite. Prise dans la tente de Charles le

Temeraire, lors de la mort de ce prince, en 1477, devant la capitale

de la Lorraine, qu'il assiegeait, elle serait devenue un meuble de la

couronne, et aurait servi au palais des ducs de ce pays, depuis Rene 2

jusqu'a Charles IV.----C'est une de ces anciennes tapisseries

flamandes dont le tissu, de laine tres fine, est eclaire par l'or et

la soie. La soie et la laine subsistent encore, mais l'or ne

s'apercoit plus que dans quelques endroits et a la faveur d'un beau

soleil. Nous ferons remarquer que le costume des divers personnages

que figurent dans notre monument est tout a fait caracteristique. Ce

sont bien la les vetements et les ornements en usage vers la moitie du

quinzieme siecle, et la disposition artistique, le choix du sujet,

ainsi que l'execution elle-meme portent bien l'empreinte du style des

oeuvres de 1450 environ.----La maison de Bourgogne etait fort riche

en joyaux, en vaisselle d'or ou d'argent et en _tapis_."

The tapestry presents an allegorical history, of which the object is

to depict the inconveniences consequent on what is called "good

cheer." Later on this formed the subject of "a morality." Originally

this tapestry was only one vast page, the requisite divisions being

wrought in the form of ornamented columns. It was afterwards cut in

pieces, and unfortunately the natural divisions of the subject were

not attended to in the severment. More unhappily still the pieces have

since been rejoined in a wrong order; and after every possible

endeavour to read them aright, the publishers are indebted to the

"Morality" before referred to, which was taken from it, and was

entitled "La Nef de Sante, avec le gouvernail du corps humain, et la

condamnacion des bancquetz, a la louenge de Diepte et Sobriete, et la

Traictie des Passions de l'ame."

Banquet, Bonnecompagnie, Souper, Gourmandise, Friandise, Passetemps,

Je pleige d'autant, Je boy a vous, and other rare personifications,

not forgetting that indispensable guest _then_ in all courtly pastime,

Le fol, "go it" to their hearts' content, until they are interrupted

_vi et armis_ by a ghastly phalanx in powerful array of Apoplexie,

Ydropsie, Epilencie, Pleurisie, Esquinancie, Paralasie, Gravelle,

Colicque, &c.

TAPISSERIE DE DIJON.--"On conviendra qu'il serait difficile de trouver

un monument de ce genre plus fidele sur le rapport historique, plus

interessant pour les arts, et plus digne d'etre reproduit par la

gravure. Je ferai en outre remarquer combien cet immense tableau de

laine, qui est unique, renferme de details precieux a la fois pour la

panoplie, pour les costumes, et l'architecture du commencement du 16

siecle, ainsi que pour l'histoire monumentale de Dijon."

This tapestry, judging by the engravings in the work we quote, must be

very beautiful. The groups are spirited and well disposed; and the

countenances have so much _nature_ and expression in them, as to lead

us readily to credit the opinion of the writer that they were

portraits. The buildings are well outlined; and in the third piece an

excellent effect is produced by exposing--by means of an open window,

or some simple contrivance of the sort--part of the interior of the

church of Notre Dame, and so displaying the brave leader of the French

army, La Tremouille, as he offers thanks before the shrine of the

Virgin.

The tapestry was worked immediately after the siege of Dijon, (1513)

and represents in three scenes the most important circumstances

relating to it; the costumes, the arms, and the architecture of the

time being displayed with fidelity and exactitude. The first

represents the invading army before the walls; the second a solemn

procession in honour of Notre-Dame-de-Bonne-Espoir. In the midst is

elevated the image of the Virgin, which is surrounded by the clergy in

their festal vestments, by the religious communities, by the nobility,

the bourgeois, and the military, all bearing torches.

To this solemn procession was attributed the truce which led to a more

lasting peace, though there are some heterodox dissentients who

attribute this substantial advantage to the wisdom and policy of the

able commander La Tremouille, who shared with Bayard the honourable

distinction of being "sans peur et sans reproche."

TAPISSERIES DE BAYARD.--A chateau which belonged to this noted hero

was despoiled at the Revolution, and it was doubtless only owing to an

idea of its worthlessness that some of the ancient tapestry was left

there. These fragments, in a deplorable state, were purchased in 1807,

and there are yet sufficient of them to bear testimony to their former

magnificence, and to decide the date of their creation at the close

of the fourteenth or beginning of the fifteenth century. The subjects

are taken from Homer's "Iliad," and "il est probable (says M. Jubinal)

que ce poeme se trouvait originairement reproduit en laine presque

tout entier, malgre sa longueur, car ce n'etait pas le travail qui

effrayait nos aieux."

Valenciennes was celebrated for the peculiar fineness and gloss of its

tapestry. By the indefatigable industry of certain antiquarians, some

pieces in good preservation representing a tournament, have lately

been taken from a garret, dismantled of their triple panoply of dust,

cleaned and hung up; after being traced from their original abode in

the state apartments of a prince through various gradations, to the

damp walls of a registry office, where, from their apparent fragility

alone, they escaped being cut into floor mats.

Those of the CHATEAU D'HAROUE, and of the COLLECTION DUSOMMERARD, are

also named here; but there is little to say about them, as the

subjects are more imaginary than historical. They are of the sixteenth

century, representing scenes of the chase, and are enlivened with

birds in every position, some of them being, in proportion to other

figures, certainly _larger_ than life, and "twice as natural."

TAPISSERIES DE LA CHAISE DIEU.--"L'Abbaye de la Chaise Dieu fut fondee

en 1046 par Robert qu'Alexandre 2de canonisa plus tard en 1070; et

dont l'origine se rattachait a la famille des comtes de Poitou.

"Robert fut destine de bonne heure aux fonctions du sacerdoce." He

went on pilgrimage to the tombs of some of the Apostles, and it was on

his return thence that he was first struck with the idea of founding a

coenobitical establishment.

"Reuni a un soldat nomme Etienne, a un solitaire nomme Delmas, et a un

chanoine nomme Arbert, il se retira dans la solitude, et s'emparant du

desert au profit de la religion, il planta la croix du Sauveur dans

les lieux jusqu'a-la couverts de forets et de bruyeres incultes, et

rassembla quelques disciples pour vivre aupres de lui sous la regle

qu'un ange lui avait, disait il, apportee du ciel.

"Bientot la reputation des cenobites s'etendit; Robert fut reconnu

comme leur chef. De toutes parts on accourut les visiter. Des

donations leur furent faites, et sur les ruines d'une ancienne eglise

une nouvelle basilique s'eleva.

"Telle est a peu pres l'histoire primitive de l'abbaye de la

Chaise-Dieu."

The Chaise-Dieu tapestries are fourteen in number, three of them are

ten feet square, and the others are six feet high by eighteen long,

excepting one which measures nearly twenty-six feet. Twelve are hung

on the carved wood-work of the choir of the great church, and thus

cover an immense space. Further off is the ancient choir of the monks,

of which the wood-work of sculptured oak is surprisingly rich. Not

even the cathedral of Rheims, of which the wood-work has long been

regarded as the most beautiful in the kingdom, contains so great a

number. Unhappily in times of intestine commotion this chef d'oeuvre

has been horribly mutilated by the axes of modern iconoclasts, more

ferocious than the barbarians of old. The two other tapestries are

placed in the Church of the Penitents, an ancient refectory of the

monks which now forms a dependent chapel to the great temple.

These magnificent hangings are woven of wool and silk, and one yet

perceives almost throughout, golden and silver threads which time has

spared. When the artist prepared to copy them for the work we are

quoting, no one dreamt of the richness buried beneath the accumulated

dust and dirt of centuries. They were carefully cleaned, and then,

says the artist, "Je suis ebloui de cette magnificence que nous ne

soupconnions plus. C'est admirable. Les Gobelins ne produisent pas

aujourd'hui de tissus plus riches et plus eclatans. Imaginez-vous que

les robes des femmes, les ornemens, les colonnettes sont emailles,

ruisselants de milliers de pierres fines et de perles," &c.

It would be tedious to attempt to describe individually the subjects

of these tapestries. They interweave the histories of the Old and New

Testaments; the centre of the work generally representing some passage

in the life of our Saviour, whilst on each side is some correspondent

typical incident from the Old Testament. Above are rhymed quatrains,

either legendary or scriptural; and below and around are sentences

drawn from the prophets or the psalms.

These tapestries appear to have been the production of the close of

the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth centuries, denoting

in the architecture and costumes _more_ the reigns of Charles VIII.

and Louis XI., than of Louis XII. and Francis I. Such pieces were

probably long in the loom, since the tapestry of Dijon, composed of a

single _lai_ of twenty-one feet, required not less, according to a

competent judge, than ten years' labour.

There are some most beautiful, even amongst these all-beautiful

engravings, which we much regret to see there--engravings of the

tapestry in the cathedral of Aix, which tapestry ought still to enrich

our own country. Shame on those under whose barbarous rule these,

amongst other valuable and cherished monuments, were, as relics of

papistry, bartered for foreign gold. "L'histoire manuscrite de la

ville d'Aix dit que cette tapisserie avait servi a l'eglise de St.

Paul de Londres ou a toute autre eglise cathedrale d'Angleterre; qu'a

l'epoque de la Reformation, les tableaux et les tapisseries ayant ete

exclus des temples, les Anglais chercherent a vendre dans les pays

etrangers quelques-unes des tapisseries qui ornaient leurs

cathedrales, et _qu'ils en brulerent un plus grand nombre_!"

This tapestry represents the history of our Saviour, in twenty seven

compartments, being in the whole about 187 feet long. It is supposed

to have been woven about 1511, when William Warham was Archbishop of

Canterbury, and Chancellor. Warham had been previously Bishop of

London; and as his arms are on this tapestry, and also the arms of two

prior bishops of London who are supposed to have left legacies to

ornament the church which were applied towards defraying the expenses

of this manufacture, it seems quite probable that its destination was

St. Paul's, and not any other cathedral church. The arms of the king

are inwrought in two places; for Henry contributed to the

embellishment of this church. He loved the arts; he decorated

churches; and though he seceded from the Roman communion, he

maintained throughout his life magnificent decorations in his

favourite churches as well as the worship of the ancient Catholic

Church. It was first under Edward, and more decidedly under Elizabeth,

that the ceremonies of the church were completely changed, and that

those which had been considered only decent and becoming were

stigmatised as popish. Nor did this fantasy reach its height until the

time of Cromwell.

Lord Douglas, Earl of Buchan, who founded the Society of Antiquaries

in Edinburgh, endeavoured during the interval of the Peace of Amiens,

to treat with the Archbishop of Aix for the repurchase of this

tapestry. He would have placed it in a Gothic church belonging to an

ancient Scotch Abbey on his domains. He had already ornamented this

church with several beautiful monuments of antiquity, and he wished to

place this tapestry there as a national monument, but the treaty was

broken off.

The TAPESTRIES OF AULHAC, representing the siege of Troy, and those of

BEAUVAIS, embracing a variety of subjects from history both sacred and

profane; of the LOUVRE, representing the Miracle of St. Quentin,

tapestry representing ALEXANDER, King of Scotland; and those of ST.

REMI, at Rheims, are all engraven and described.

Those of the magnificent cathedral church at Rheims, consisting of

forty tapestries, forming different collections, but all on religious

subjects, will probably form the material for future numbers.

* * * * *

That there are ancient tapestries existing in England fully equal to

those in France is, we think, almost certain; but of course they are

not to be summoned from the "vasty deep" of neglect and oblivion by

the powerless voice of an obscure individual. Gladly would we, had it

been in our power, have enriched our sketch by references to some of

them.

The following notice of a tapestry at Coventry is drawn from "Smith's

Selections of the ancient Costume of Britain;" and the names of the

tapestries at Hampton Court Palace from "Pyne's Royal Residences." We

have recently visited Hampton Court for the express purpose of viewing

the tapestries. There, we believe, they were, entirely (with the

exception of a stray inch or two here and there) hung over with

paintings.

The splendid though neglected tapestry of St. Mary's Hall at Coventry

offers a variety of materials no less interesting on account of the

sanctity and misfortunes of the prince (Henry VI.) who is there

represented, than curious as specimens of the arts of drawing, dyeing,

and embroidery of the time in which it was executed.

It is thirty feet in length and ten in height; and is divided into six

compartments, three in the upper tier and three in the lower,

containing in all upwards of eighty figures or heads. The centre

compartment of the upper row, in its perfect and original state,

represented the usual personification of the Trinity--(the Trinity

Guild held its meetings in the hall of St. Mary) surrounded by angels

bearing the various instruments of the Passion. But the zeal of our

early reformers sacrificed this part of the work, and substituted in

its stead a tasteless figure of Justice, which now holds the scales

amidst the original group of surrounding angels.

The right hand division of this tier is occupied with sundry figures

of saints and martyrs, and the opposite side is filled with a group of

female saints.

In the centre compartment below is represented the Virgin Mary in the

clouds, standing on the crescent, surrounded by the twelve Apostles

and many cherubs. But the two remaining portions of this fine tapestry

constitute its chief value and importance to the city of Coventry, as

they represent the figures of Henry VI., his Queen, the ambitious, and

crafty, and cruel, yet beautiful and eloquent and injured Margaret of

Anjou, and many of their attendants. During all the misfortunes of

Henry, the citizens of Coventry zealously supported him; and their

city is styled by historians "Queen Margaret's secret bower." As the

tapestry was purposely made for the hall, and probably placed there

during the lives of the sovereigns, the figures may be considered as

authentic portraits.

* * * * *

The first Presence Chamber in Hampton Court is (or was) hung with rich

ancient tapestry, representing a landscape, with the figures of

Nymphs, Fawns, Satyrs, Nereides, &c.

There is some fine ancient tapestry in the King's Audience Chamber,

the subjects being, on one side, Abraham and Lot dividing their lands;

and on the other, God appearing to Abraham purchasing ground for a

burying-place.

The tapestry on the walls of the King's Drawing-Room represents

Abraham entertaining the three Angels; also Abraham, Isaac, and

Rebecca.

The tapestry which covers three sides of the King's State Bedchamber

represents the history of Joshua.

The walls of the Queen's Audience Chamber are covered with tapestry

hangings, which represent the story of Abraham and Melchisedec, and

Abraham and Rebecca.

The Ball Room is called also the Tapestry Gallery, from the superb

suite of hangings that ornament its walls, which was brought from

Flanders by General Cadogan, and set up by order of George I. The

series of seven compartments describes the history of Alexander the

Great, from the paintings of the celebrated Charles le Brun. The first

represents the story of Alexander and his horse Bucephalus; the

second, the visit of Alexander to Diogenes; the third, the passage of

Alexander over the Granicus; the fourth, Alexander's visit to the

mother and wife of Darius, in their tent, after the battle of Arbela;

the fifth, Alexander's triumphal entrance into Babylon; the sixth,

Alexander's battle with Porus; the seventh, his second entrance into

Babylon.--These magnificent hangings were wrought at the Gobelins.

The tapestry hangings in the king's private bedchamber describe the

naval battle of Solebay between the combined fleets of England and

France and the Dutch fleet, in 1672.

* * * * *

Of all the tapestries here recorded, the last only, representing the

Battle of Solebay, are now visible.

FOOTNOTE:

[125] "Les Anciennes Tapisseries Historiees, ou Collection des

Monumens les plus remarquables, de ce genre, qui nous soient restes du

moyen age." A Paris.

CHAPTER XXII.

EMBROIDERY.

"Flowers, Plants and Fishes, Beasts, Birds, Flyes, and Bees,

Hils, 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."

John Taylor.

Perhaps of all nations in very ancient times the Medes and Babylonians

were most celebrated for the draperies of the apartments, about which

they were even more anxious than about their attire. All their noted

hangings with which their palaces were so gorgeously celebrated were

wrought by the needle. And though now everywhere the loom is in

request, still these and other eastern nations maintain great practice

and unrivalled skill in needle embroidery. Sir John Chardin says of

the Persians, "Their tailors certainly excel ours in their sewing.

They make carpets, cushions, veils for doors, and other pieces of

furniture of felt, in Mosaic work, which represents just what they

please. This is done so neatly, that a man might suppose the figures

were painted instead of being a kind of inlaid work. Look as close as

you will, the joining cannot be seen;" and the Hall of Audience at

Jeddo, we are told, is a sumptuous edifice; the roof covered with gold

and silver of exquisite workmanship, the throne of massy gold enriched

with pearls, diamonds, and other precious stones. The tapestry is of

the finest silk, wrought by the _most curious hands_, and adorned with

pearls, gold, and silver, and other costly embellishments.

About the close of the ninth or beginning of the tenth century, the

Caliph Moctadi's whole army, both horse and foot, (says Abulfeda) were

under arms, which together made a body of 160,000 men. His state

officers stood near him in the most splendid apparel, their belts

shining with gold and gems. Near them were 7000 black and white

eunuchs. The porters or door-keepers were in number 700. Barges and

boats, with the most superb decorations, were swimming on the Tigris.

Nor was the palace itself less splendid, in which were hung _38,000

pieces of tapestry, 12,500 of which were of silk embroidered with

gold_. The carpets on the floor were 22,000. A hundred lions were

brought out with a keeper to each lion. Among the other spectacles of

rare and stupendous luxury, was a tree of gold and silver, which

opened itself into eighteen larger branches, upon which, and the other

less branches sate birds of every sort, made also of gold and silver.

The tree glittered with leaves of the same metals, and while its

branches, through machinery, appeared to move of themselves, the

several birds upon them warbled their natural notes.