TO-DAY
The making of inspired tapestry does not belong to to-day. The _amour
propre_ suffers a distinct pain in this acknowledgment. It were far
more agreeable to foster the feeling that this age is in advance of
any other, that we are at the front of the world's progress.
So we are in many matters, but those matters are all bent toward one
thing--making haste. Economy of time occupies the attention of
scientist, inventor, labourer. Yet a lavish expenditure of time is the
one thing the perfect tapestry inexorably demands, and that is the
fundamental reason why it cannot now enter a brilliant period of
production like those of the past.
It is not that one atelier cannot find enough weavers to devote their
lives to sober, leisurely production; it is that the stimulating
effect is gone, of a craft eagerly pursued in various centres, where
guilds may be formed, where healthy rivalry spurs to excellence, where
the world of the fine arts is also vitally concerned.
The great hangings of the past were the natural expression of
decoration in those days, the natural demand of pomp, of splendour and
of comfort. As in all things great and small, the act is but the
visible expression of an inward impulse, and we of to-day have not the
spirit that expresses itself in the reverent building of cathedrals,
or in the inspired composition of tapestries.
This is to be entirely distinguished from appreciation. That gift we
have, and it is momentarily increasing. To be entirely commercial,
which view is of course not the right one, one need only watch the
reports of sales at home and abroad to see what this latter-day
appreciation means in pelf. In England a tapestry was recently
unearthed and identified as one of the series of seven woven for
Cardinal Woolsey. It is not of extraordinary size, but was woven in
the interesting years hovering above and below the century mark of
1500. The time was when public favour spoke for the upholding of
morality with a conspicuousness which could be called Puritanism, were
the anachronism possible. Pointing a moral was the fundamental excuse
for pictorial art. This tapestry represents one of _The Seven Deadly
Sins_. Hampton Court displays the three other known pieces of the
series, and he who harbours this most recent discovery has paid
$33,000 for the privilege.
But that is a tiny sum compared to the price that rumour accredits Mr.
Morgan with paying for _The Adoration of the Eternal Father_ (called
also _The Kingdom of Heaven_). And this is topped by $750,000 paid for
a Boucher set of five pieces. One might continue to enumerate the
sales where enormous sums are laid down in appreciation of the men
whose excellence of work we cannot achieve, but these sums paid only
show with pathetic discouragement the completeness with which the
spirit of commercialism has replaced the spirit of art, at least in
the expression of art that occupies our attention.
[Illustration: MODERN AMERICAN TAPESTRY, LOUIS XV INSPIRATION]
[Illustration: MODERN AMERICAN TAPESTRY FROM FRENCH INSPIRATION]
If, then, this is not an age of production, but of appreciation,
it, too, has its natural expression. First it is the acquiring at any
sacrifice of the ancient hangings wherever they are found; and after
that it is their restoration and preservation. This is the reason for
recent high prices and the reason, too, for the establishment of
ateliers of repair, which are found in all large centres in Europe as
well as wherever any important museum exists in America.
It would not be possible nor profitable to dwell on the tapestry
repair shops of Europe. They have always been; the industry is one
that has existed since the Burgundian dukes tore holes in their
magnificent tapestries by dragging them over the face of Europe, and
since Henry the Eighth, in eager imitation of the continentals,
established in the royal household a supervisor of tapestry repairs.
Paris is full of repairers, and in the little streets on the other
side of the Seine old women sit in doorways on a sunny day, defeating
the efforts of time to destroy the loved _toiles peintes_. But this
haphazard repair, done on the knee, as a garment might be mended, is
not comparable to the careful, exact work of the restorer at her
frame. One ranks as woman's natural task of nine stitches, while the
other is the work of intelligent patience and skilled endeavour.
Wherever looms are set up, a department of repair is the logical
accompaniment. As every tapestry taken from the loom appears punctured
with tiny slits, places left open in the weaving, and as all of these
need careful sewing before the tapestry is finished, a corps of
needlewomen is a part of a loom's equipment. This is true in all but
the ateliers of the Merton Abbey factory, of which we shall speak
later.
Apart from repairs, what is being done in the present day? So little
that historians of the future are going to find scant pickings for
their record.
FRANCE
The Gobelins factory being the last one to make a permanent
contribution to art, the impulse is to ask what it is doing now. That
is easily answered, but there is no man so optimistic that he can find
therein matter for hope.
France is commendably determined not to let the great industry die. It
would seem a loss of ancient glory to shut down the Gobelins. Yet why
does it live? It lives because a body of men have the patriotic pride
to keep it alive. But as for its products, they are without
inspiration, without beauty to the eye trained to higher expressions
of art.
The Gobelins to-day is almost purely a museum, not only in the
treasures it exposes in its collection of ancient "toiles," but
because here is preserved the use of the high-warp loom, and the same
method of manufacture as in other and better times. A crowd of
interested folk drift in and out between the portals, survey the
Pavilion of Louis XIV and the court, the garden and the stream, then,
turning inside, the modern surveys the work of the ancient, the
remnants of time. And no less curious and no less remote do the old
tapestries seem than the atelier where the high looms rear their
cylinders and mute men play their colour harmonies on the warp. It
all seems of other times; it all seems dead. And it is a dead art.
[Illustration: GOBELINS TAPESTRY. LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY
Luxembourg, Paris]
[Illustration: GOBELINS TAPESTRY. LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY
Pantheon, Paris]
The tapestries on the looms are garish, crude, modern art in its
cheapest expression; or else they are brilliant-hued copies of
time-softened paintings that were never meant to be translated into
wool and silk.
The looms are always busy, nevertheless. There is always preserved a
staff of officers, the director, the chemist of dyes, and all that;
and the tapissiers are careful workmen, with perfection, not haste, in
view. The State directs the work, the State pays for it, the State
consumes the products. That is the Republic's way of continuing the
craft that was the serious pleasure of kings. But there is now no
personal element to give it the vital touch. There is no Gabrielle
d'Estrees, nor Henri IV; no Medici, no Louis XIV, no Pompadour. All is
impersonal, uninspired.
Men who have worked in the deadening influence of the Gobelins declare
that the factory cannot last much longer. But it is improbable that
France--Republican France, that holds with bourgeois tenacity to
aristocratic evidences--will abandon this, her expensive toy, her
inheritance of the time of kings.
In the time of the Second Empire it was the fashion to copy, at the
Gobelins, the portraits of celebrated personages executed by
Winterhalter. The exquisite portrait of the beautiful Empress Eugenie
by this delectable court painter has a delicacy and grace that is all
unhurt by contrast with more modern schools of painting. But fancy the
texture of the lovely flesh copied in the medium of woven threads, no
matter how delicately dyed and skilfully wrought. Painting is one art,
tapestry-making is entirely another.
But that is just where the fault lay and continued, the inability of
the Gobelins ateliers to understand that the two must not be confused.
The same false idea that caused Winterhalter's portraits to be copied,
gave to the modern tapissiers the paintings of the high Renaissance to
reproduce. Titian's most celebrated works were set up on the loom, as
for example the beautiful fancy known as _Sacred and Profane Love_,
which perplexes the loiterer of to-day in the Villa Borghese. Other
paintings copied were Raphael's _Transfiguration_, Guido Rene's
_Aurora_, Andrea del Sarto's _Charity_. There were many more, but this
list gives sufficiently well the condition of inspiration at the
Gobelins up to the third quarter of the Nineteenth Century.
Paul Baudry appeared at about this time striking a clear pure note of
delicate decoration. The few panels that he drew for the Gobelins
charm the eye with happy reminiscences of Lebrun, of Claude Audran, a
potpourri of petals fallen from the roses of yesterday mixed with the
spices of to-day.
But if the work of this talented artist illustrates anything, it is
the change in the uses of tapestries. The modern ones are made to be
framed, as flat as the wall against which they are secured. In a word,
they take the place of frescoes. The pleasure of touching a mobile
fabric is lost. A fold in such a dainty piece would break its beauty.
Almost must a woven panel of our day fit the panel it fills as
exactly as the wood-work of a room fits its dimensions.
The Nineteenth Century at the Gobelins was finished by mistakenly
copying Ghirlandajo, Correggio, others of their time.
In the beginning of this century, the spirit of pure decoration again
became animated. Instead of copying old painters, the Gobelins began
to copy old cartoons. The effect of this is to increase the
responsibility of the weaver, and with responsibility comes strength.
The models of Boucher, and the _Grotesques_ of Italian Renaissance
drawing are given even now to the weavers as a training in both taste
and skill. But better than all is the present wisdom of the Gobelins,
which has directly faced the fact that it were better to copy the
tapestries of old excellence than to copy paintings of no matter what
altitude of art.
Modern cartoons are used, as we know, commanded for various public
buildings in France, but the copying of old tapestries exercises a far
happier influence on the weavers. If this is not an age of creation in
art, at least it need not be an age of false gods, notwithstanding the
seriousness given to distortions of the Matisse and post-impressionist
school.
A careful copying of old tapestries--and in this case old means those
of the high periods of perfection--has led to a result from which much
may be expected. This is the enormous reduction in the number of tones
used. Gothic tapestries of stained glass effect had a restricted range
of colour. By this brief gamut the weaver made his own gradations of
colour, and the passage from light to shadow, by hatching, which was
in effect but a weaving of alternating lines of two colours, much as
an artist in pen-and-ink draws parallel lines for shading. Tapestries
thus woven resist well the attacks of light and time.
To sum up the present attitude of the Gobelins, then, is to say that
the director of to-day encourages the education of taste in the
weavers by encouraging them to copy old tapestries instead of
paintings old or new, and in a reduction of the number of the tones
employed. The talent of an artist is thus made necessary to the
tapissier, for shadings are left to him to accomplish by his own skill
instead of by recourse to the forty thousand shades that are stored on
the shelves of the store-room.
The manufactory at Beauvais, being also under the State, is associated
with the greater factory in the glance at modern conditions. Both
factories weave primarily for the State. Both factories keep alive an
ancient industry, and both have permission to sell their precious
wares to the private client. That such sales are rarely made is due to
the indifference of the State, which stipulates that its own work
shall have first place on the looms, that only when a loom is idle may
it be used for a private patron. The length of time, therefore, that
must elapse before an order is executed--two or three years,
perhaps--is a tiresome condition that very few will accept.
[Illustration: THE ADORATION
Merton Abbey Tapestry. Figures by Burne-Jones]
[Illustration: DAVID INSTRUCTING SOLOMON IN THE BUILDING OF THE
TEMPLE
Merton Abbey Tapestry. Burne-Jones, Artist]
Beauvais, with its low-warp looms, is more celebrated for its small
pieces of work than for large hangings. The tendency toward the latter
ended some time ago, and in our time Beauvais makes mainly those
exquisite coverings for seats and screens that give the beholder a
thrill of artistic joy and a determination to possess something
similar. The models of Behagle, Oudry, Charron are copied with
fidelity to their loveliness, and it is these that after a few years
of wear on furniture take on that mellowness which long association
with human hands alone can give. It is scarcely necessary to say that
antique furniture tapestry is rare; its use has been too hard to
withstand the years. Therefore, we may with joy and the complacency of
good taste acquire new coverings of the Don Quixote or AEsop's Fables
designs for our latter-day furniture or for the fine old pieces from
which the original tapestries have vanished.
ENGLAND
The chapter on Mortlake looms shows what was accomplished by
deliberate importation of an art coveted but not indigenous. It is
interesting to compare this with England's entirely modern and
self-made craft of the last thirty years. I allude to the tapestry
factory established by William Morris and called Merton Abbey. Mr.
Morris preferred the word arras as attached to his weavings, tapestry
having sometimes the odious modern meaning of machine-made figured
stuffs for any sort of furniture covering. But as Arras did not invent
the high-warp hand-loom, nor did the Saracens, nor the Egyptians, it
is but quibbling to give it arbitrarily the name of any particular
locale.
It seems that enough can never be said about the versatility of
William Morris and the strong flood of beauty in design that he sent
rippling over arid ground. It were enough had he accomplished only the
work in tapestry. It is not too strong a statement that he produced at
Merton Abbey the only modern tapestries that fill the primary
requirements of tapestries.
How did he happen upon it in these latter days? By worshipping the old
hangings of the Gothic perfection, by finding the very soul of them,
of their designers and of their craftsmen; then, letting that soul
enter his, he set his fingers reverently to work to learn, as well,
the secret of the ancient workman.
It was as early as 1885 that he began; was cartoonist, dyer,
tapissier, all, for the experiment, which was a small square of
verdure after the manner of the Gothic, curling big acanthus leaves
about a softened rose, a mingling of greens of ocean and shady reds.
Perhaps it was no great matter in the way of tapestry, but it was to
Morris like the discovery of a new continent to the navigator.
His was the time of a so-called aesthetic school in England. Watts,
Rossetti and Burne-Jones were harking back to antiquity for
inspiration. Morris associated with him the latter, who drew wondrous
figures of maids and men and angels, figures filled with the devout
spirit of the time when religion was paramount, and perfect with the
art of to-day.
The romance of _The Holy Grail_ gave happy theme for the work, and
three beautiful tapestries made the set. _The Adoration of the Magi_
was another, made for Exeter College, Oxford. Sir Edward Burne-Jones
designed all these wondrous pictures, and the wisdom of Morris
decreed that the _Grail_ series should not be oft repeated. The
first figure tapestry woven on the looms was a fancy drawn by Walter
Crane, called _The Goose Girl_.
[Illustration: TRUTH BLINDFOLDED
Merton Abbey Tapestry. Byram Shaw, Artist]
The most enchantingly mediaeval and most modernly perfect piece is by
Burne-Jones, called _David Instructing Solomon in the Building of the
Temple_. (Plate facing page 257.) In this the time of Gothic beauty
lives again. Planes are repeated, figures are massed, detail is clear
and impressive, yet modern laws of drawing concentrate the interest on
the central action as strongly as though all else were subservient.
_The Passing of Venus_ was Burne-Jones' last cartoon for Merton Abbey
looms. (Plate facing page 260.) Although a critique of the art of this
great painter would be out of place in a book on the applied arts, at
least it is allowable to express the conviction that more beautiful,
more fitting designs for tapestry it would be difficult to imagine.
Modern work of this sort has produced nothing that approaches them,
preserving as they do the sincerity and reverence of a simple people,
the ideality of a conscientious age, yet softening all technical
faults with modern finish. An unhappy fact is that this tapestry,
which was considered by the Merton Abbey works as its _chef d'oeuvre_,
was destroyed by fire in the Brussels Exhibition of 1910.
Alas for tapestry weaving of to-day, the usual modern cartoon is a
staring anachronism, and a conglomerate of modes. An "art nouveau"
lady poses in a Gothic setting, a Thayer angel stands in a Boucher
entourage, and both eye and intelligence are revolted. The master
craftsman and artist, William Morris, alone has known how to produce
acceptable modern work from modern cartoons. Other examples are
_Angeli Laudantes_, and _The Adoration_. (Plates facing pages 261 and
256.)
A false note is sometimes struck, even in this factory of wondrous
taste. In _Truth Blindfolded_ (plate facing page 258), Mr. Byram Shaw
has drawn the central figure as Cabanel might have done a decade ago,
while every other figure in the group might have been done by some
hand dead these four hundred years.
Morris' manner of procedure differed little from that of the decorator
Lebrun, although his work was a private enterprise and in no way to be
compared with the royal factory of a rich king. Burne-Jones drew the
figures; H. Dearle, a pupil, and Philip Webb drew backgrounds and
animals, but Morris held in his own hands the arrangement of all. It
was as though a gardener brought in a sheaf of cut roses and the
master hand arranged them. Mr. Dearle directed some compositions with
skill and talent.
With the passing of William Morris an inevitable change is visible in
the cartoons. The Gothic note is not continued, nor the atmosphere of
sanctity, which is its usual accompaniment. A tapestry of 1908 from
the design of _The Chace_ by Heyward Sumner suggests long hours with
the Flemish landscapists of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries,
with a jarring note of Pan dragged in by the ears to huddle under
foliage obviously introduced for this purpose.
[Illustration: THE PASSING OF VENUS
Merton Abbey Tapestry. Cartoon by Burne-Jones]
[Illustration: ANGELI LAUDANTES
Merton Abbey Tapestry]
But criticism of this aberration cannot hurt the wondrous inspired
work directed by Morris, and which it were well for a beauty-loving
world to have often repeated. Unhappily, the Merton Abbey works are
bound not to repeat the superb series of the _Grail_. The entire set
has been woven twice, and three pieces of it a third time--and there
it ends. This is well for the value of the tapestries, but is it not a
providence too thrifty when the public is considered? In ages to come,
perhaps, other looms will repeat, and our times will glow with the
fame thereof.
Before leaving the subject of the Merton Abbey tapestries, it is
interesting to note a technical change in the weaving. By
intertwisting the threads of the chain or warp at the back, a way is
found to avoid the slits in weaving that are left to be sewn together
with the needle in all old work. This method has been proved the
stronger of the two. The strain of hanging proves too great for the
strength of the stitches, and on many a tapestry appear gaping wounds
which call for yet more stitching. But in the new method the fabric
leaves the loom intact.
The determination of William Morris to catch old secrets by fitting
his feet into old footsteps, led him to employ only the loom of the
best weavers in the ancient long ago. The high-warp loom is the only
one in use at the Merton Abbey works.
AMERICA
America makes heavy demands for tapestries, but the art of producing
them is not indigenous here. We are not without looms, however. The
first piece of tapestry woven in America--to please the ethnologist
we will grant that it was woven by Zuni or Toltec or other aborigine.
But the fabric approaching that of Arras or Gobelins, was woven in New
York, in 1893, in the looms of the late William Baumgarten. It is
preserved as a curiosity, as being the first. It is a chair seat woven
after the designs popular with Louis XV and his court, a plain
background of solid colour on which is thrown a floral ornament.
The loom was a small affair of the low-warp type, and was operated by
a Frenchman who came to this country for the purpose of starting the
craft on new soil.
The sequence to this small beginning was the establishment of tapestry
ateliers at Williamsbridge, a suburb of New York. Like the Gobelins
factory, this was located in an old building on the banks of a little
stream, the Bronx. Workmen were imported, some from Aubusson, who knew
the craft; these took apprentices, as of old, and trained them for the
work. The looms were all of the low-warp pattern.
It may be of interest to those who like figures, to know that the work
of the Baumgarten atelier averages in price about sixty dollars a
square yard. Perhaps this will help a little in deciding whether or
not the price is reasonable when a dealer seductively spreads his
ancient wares. Modern cartoons of the Baumgarten factory lack the
charm of the old designs, but the adaptations and copies of ancient
pieces are particularly happy. No better execution could be wished
for. The factory has increased its looms to the number of twenty-two,
and has its regular corps of tapissiers, dyers, repairers, etc.
Nowhere is the life of the weaver so nearly like that of his prototype
in the golden age of tapestry. The colony on the Bronx is like a bit
of old Europe set intact on American soil.
[Illustration: AMERICAN (BAUMGARTEN) TAPESTRY COPIED FROM THE GOTHIC]
[Illustration: DRYADS AND FAUNS
From Herter Looms, New York, 1910]
It is odd that New York should have more tapestry looms at work than
has Paris. The Baumgarten looms exceed in number the present Gobelins,
and the Herter looms add many more. The ateliers of Albert Herter are
in the busiest part of New York, and here are woven by hand many
fabrics of varying degrees of excellence. It is not Mr. Herter's
intention to produce only fine wall hangings, but to supply as well
floor coverings "a la facon de Perse," as the ancient documents had
it, and to make it possible for persons of taste, but not necessarily
fortune, to have hand-woven portieres of artistic value.
Apart from this commendable aim, the Herter looms are also given to
making copies of the antique in the finest of weaving, and to
producing certain original pieces expressing the decorative spirit of
our day. Besides this, the work is distinguished by certain
combinations of antique and modern style that confuse the seeker after
purity of style. That the effect is pleasing must be acknowledged as
illustrated in the plate showing a tapestry for the country house of
Mrs. E. H. Harriman. (Plate facing page 263.) It is not easy in a
review of tapestry weaving of to-day to find any great encouragement.
These are times of commerce more than of art. If art can be made
profitable commercially, well and good. If not, it starves in a garret
along with the artist. If the demand for modern tapestries was large
enough, the art would flourish--perhaps. But it is not a large demand,
for many reasons, chief among which is the incontrovertible one that
the modern work is seldom pleasing. The whole world is occupied with
science and commerce, and art does not create under their influence as
in more ideal times. What can the trained eye and the cultivated taste
do other than turn back to the products of other days?
We have artists in our own country whose qualities would make of them
marvellous composers of cartoons. The imagination and execution of
Maxfield Parrish, for example, added to his richness of colouring,
would be translatable in wool under the hands of an artist-weaver. And
the designs which take the name of "poster" and are characterised by
strength, simplicity and few tones, why would they not give the same
crispness of detail that constitutes one of the charms of Gothic work?
Perhaps the factories existent in America will work out this line of
thought, combine it with honesty of material and labour, and give us
the honour of prominence in an ancient art's revival.
FINIS
BEST PERIODS AND THEIR DATES
EARLIEST TAPESTRY LOOMS Prehistoric
EUROPEAN EARLY ATTEMPTS Twelfth To Fourteenth Centuries
ARRAS AND BURGUNDIAN TAPESTRY Early Fifteenth Century
GOTHIC PERFECTION, FLANDERS About Fifteen Hundred
GOTHIC PERFECTION, FRANCE About Fifteen Hundred
ITALIAN FACTORIES Fifteenth Century
RAPHAEL CARTOONS IN FLANDERS 1515-1519
RENAISSANCE PERFECTION, FLANDERS 1515 To Second Half of Century
BRUSSELS MARK 1528
FLEMISH DECADENCE End of Sixteenth Century
FRENCH RISE End of Sixteenth Century
FRENCH ORGANISATION 1597, Reign of Henri IV
ENGLISH SUPREMACY, MORTLAKE
ESTABLISHED 1619
ESTABLISHMENT OF GOBELINS 1662, Reign of Louis XIV
BEST HEROIC PERIOD OF GOBELINS Last Half of Seventeenth Century
BEST DECORATIVE PERIOD OF
GOBELINS Middle of Eighteenth Century
DECADENCE OF GOBELINS End of Eighteenth Century
RECENT TIMES, ENGLAND, WM. MORRIS End of Nineteenth Century
RECENT TIMES, AMERICA End of Nineteenth Century
INDEX
Abbot Robert, 20.
_Achilles, Story of_, 169.
Adelaide, Queen, 22.
_Adoration of the Eternal Father, The_, 59, 250, 260.
_Adoration of the Magi, The_, 258.
_Acts of the Apostles_, 64, 86, 147, 169, 197, 205, 214, 221.
_Alcisthenes, Mantle of_, 19.
_Alexander, History of_, 115, 172, 197.
Alfonso II (d'Este), 83.
America, 261-264.
American interest, 10.
Amorini, 209.
Andrea del Sarto, 73.
_Angeli Laudantes_, 260.
Angers, 29, 30.
Angivillier, Count of, 131, 133, 137.
_Annunciation, The_, 61.
Antin, Duke d', 128, 130, 131, 148.
_Antony and Cleopatra_, 80, 110, 151, 187, 210, 222.
_Apocalypse_, 23, 25, 30, 45, 217.
Apprentices, 5.
Architectural detail, 177-179.
_Armide_, 130.
Arras, 28, 32, 34, 38, 47, 48, 51, 54, 66, 90, 106, 129, 163, 176,
203, 229.
Arazzeria Medicea, 84.
Artemisia, 93, 94.
Artois, 32, 34, 163.
Aubusson, 150, 152-158.
Audran, Claude, 122-124, 126-128, 132.
Audran, Jean, 138.
_Aurora_, 254.
Babylon, 18.
Bacchiacca, 76, 223.
Backgrounds, 185.
_Baillee des Roses_, 42, 176, 181.
Bajazet, 35.
Barberini, 87, 88, 131, 208.
Basse lisse, 3, 193, 227.
Bataille, Nicolas, 29, 30, 217.
Baudry, Paul, 254.
Baumgarten, 232, 238, 239, 262.
Bayeux Tapestry, 21, 241-248.
Beauvais, 4, 121, 135, 145-153, 154, 163, 256.
Beaux Art, Ecole des, 204.
Behagle, Philip, 147, 148, 257.
Belle, Augustin, 138.
Bellegarde, 157.
Berne, Cathedral of, 37, 53.
Bernini, 10.
Berthelemy, 141.
Besnier, 152.
Bible, influence of, 130.
Bievre, 105, 106, 107.
Blamard, Louis, 99, 103.
Blumenthal collection, 74, 75, 78, 196, 205.
Bobbin, 4.
_Book of Hours_, 41.
Borders, 132, 147, 158, 169, 170, 172, 173, 188-190, 201-215.
Boston Museum of Fine Arts, 15, 46, 56, 238.
Botticelli, 180.
Boucher, 131, 132, 135, 141, 151.
Boulle, 107.
Bourg, Maurice du, 93, 94, 95, 96.
Broche, 4, 223, 227, 228, 229.
Bruges, 54, 55, 221.
Brussels, 7, 9, 10, 29, 38, 48, 54, 55, 57, 64, 66, 68-72, 76, 78,
90, 111, 129, 141, 163, 194, 197, 216, 218, 219, 221, 229.
Brussels Mark, 217.
Burgundian tapestry, 37, 45, 160, 174.
Burgundy, Dukes of, 22, 33, 34, 36, 38, 39, 46, 47, 48, 51.
Burne-Jones, 258, 259.
Caffieri, 107.
Carron, Antoine, 94.
Carthaginians, 19.
Cartoons, 56, 151, 155, 173, 176, 231, 255.
Cartouche, 207.
Casanova, 151.
Cellini, Benvenuto, 7.
_Charity_, 254.
Charles I, 167, 168, 170, 171.
Charles V, 32.
Charles V, Emperor, 62, 75, 82, 83, 220.
Charles VI, 29.
Charles VII, 42.
Charles VIII, 48.
Charles le Temeraire, 36, 45, 47, 51, 66.
Chef d'atelier, 5.
Chicago Institute of Art, 47, 78, 221.
China, 18.
Circe, 19.
Clein, or Cleyn, Francis, 166, 169, 170, 171.
Cluny Museum of Paris, 44, 54.
Colbert, 99, 102, 103, 107, 108, 109, 116, 117, 118, 121, 145,
155, 156.
Colours, 191-193, 210, 211, 233-236.
Comans, Charles de, 222.
Comans, or Coomans, Marc, 95-97, 107, 165, 166, 231.
_Condemnation of Suppers and Banquets, The_, 51.
_Conquest of Tunis_, 75, 220.
_Constantine, History of_, 112.
Copies, 197-200.
Coptic, 15, 16.
Cornelisz, Lucas, 82.
Correggio, 209.
Cortona, Pietro di, 87.
Cosimo I, Duke of Tuscany, 84, 85.
Cosmati brothers, 178.
Costumes, 181-183.
Cotte, Jules Robert de, 122, 129, 131.
Coypel, Antoine, 130.
Coypel, Charles, 12, 127, 128, 130, 132, 150.
Cozette, 132.
Crane, Richard, 171.
Crane, Sir Francis, 165, 167, 168, 170, 171, 223.
Crane, Walter, 259.
Crusades, 19, 24.
_Cupid and Psyche_, 132.
David, 136, 140, 142, 143, 144.
_David Instructing Solomon, etc._, 259.
Dearle, H., 260.
Delacroix, Jean, 109.
Devonshire, Duke of, 46.
_Diana, History of_, 92.
Directing artist, 5.
Director, 4.
Directory, 139, 142.
_Don Quixote_, 127, 132, 133, 152.
Dosso, Battista, 82.
Dourdin, 30.
Ducal Palace at Nancy, tapestry room of, 51, 65.
Du Mons, Jean Joseph, 158.
Dupont, Pierre, 161.
Dye, scarlet, of the Gobelin brothers, 106.
Dyes, 6, 218, 233, 234.
Dyes at Aubusson, 156.
Edward the Confessor, 260.
Egypt, 18, 27.
Egyptian drawing, 15.
Egyptian loom, 16.
Egyptian weaving, 16.
Egyptian work, 7.
Eighteenth Century, 76, 123, 152, 158, 180, 185, 187, 190, 211,
222, 236, 257-261.
Eleventh Century, 23.
Elizabeth, Queen, 164.
_Enfants Jardiniers_, 74.
Enghien, 103, 221, 222.
England, 54, 223.
Ercole II (d'Este), 82-84.
Este, d', 82-84, 91, 223.
_Esther and Ahasuerus_, 190.
Europe, 18, 19.
_Fables of La Fontaine_, 149-152.
Felletin, 157.
Ferrara, 82, 83, 223.
Ffoulke collection, 88, 89, 131.
Fifteenth Century, 22, 27, 46, 51, 54, 58, 81, 106, 160, 163, 176,
183, 184, 196, 202.
Filleul, 148.
Flanders, 6, 7, 28, 54, 68, 110, 121, 150, 163, 169, 176, 208.
Flemish tapestry, 9, 79.
Fleur-de-lis, use of, 38, 222.
Florence factory, 223.
Flowers, use of, 52, 180, 181.
Flute, 4, 227, 228, 229.
Fontainebleau, 91, 92.
Foucquet, 100-105.
Fouquet, Jean, 42.
Fourteenth Century, 25, 27, 30, 106, 176, 183.
France, 10, 28, 54, 90, 110, 163, 176, 252-257.
Francis I, 90, 91.
French terms, 4.
Furniture, 133, 134, 135, 146, 149, 152, 159, 162.
Galloon, 173, 201, 204, 219, 221.
Genoa, 89.
Germany, 54, 160.
Geubels, Jacques, 79, 221.
Ghent, 66.
Giotto, 27, 216.
Giulio Romano, 73, 74, 84, 93, 118.
Gobelin, Jean and Philibert, 105, 106.
Gobelins, 10, 30, 90, 93, 99, 103-107, 109, 111, 112, 115-122,
128-131, 133, 135, 137-145, 154, 159, 161, 162, 203, 205, 222,
236, 252.
Gobelins Museum (Paris), 92, 99, 252.
Gold, use of, 6.
Gonnor (Duchess), 21.
Gonzaga, 61, 81.
_Goose Girl, The_, 259.
Gothic border, 60, 61.
Gothic columns, use of, 39, 52, 177, 178.
Gothic drawing, 174-177.
Gothic flowers, 180, 181.
Gothic period, 7, 8, 16, 52, 69, 188, 192.
Gothic style, 5, 27, 53, 66.
Greece, 18, 27.
Greek drawing, 15.
Greek influence, 186.
_Grotesque Months_, 76, 127.
Guildhall, 7.
Guilds, 6, 7.
Halberstadt, Cathedral at, 23.
Halle, 131.
Hardwick Hall tapestries, 46.
Harriman, Mrs. E. H., 263.
Haute lisse, 3, 193, 194, 227.
Helen, 19, 21.
Helly, 35.
Henri II, 92.
Henri IV, 10, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 107, 146, 160, 161, 164, 165,
212.
Henry V, 31.
Henry VIII, 164, 251.
_Hero and Leander, History of_, 169.
_Herse and Mercury_, 205.
Herter, 238, 239, 263.
High-loom, 15, 18.
High-warp, 3, 16, 19, 27, 29, 95, 109, 157, 193, 227, 228, 229.
Hinart, Louis, 146, 147.
Hiss, Philip, 170, 224.
_History of Alexander_, 115, 172, 197.
_History of Constantine_, 112.
_History of Esther_, 131, 132.
_History of Gideon_, 36.
_History of Hero and Leander_, 169.
_History of Meleager_, 112.
_History of the King_, 112, 113, 129, 222.
_Holy Grail, The_, 258.
_Horrors of the Seven Deadly Sins, The_, 51.
_Hunt of Meleager_, 99.
_Hunts of Louis XV_, 130, 188.
Identifications, 172-200.
Iliad, influence of, 130.
India, 18.
Italy, 6, 10, 54, 71, 81, 86, 110, 152, 168, 208, 223.
James I, 164-167.
Jans, Jean, 109, 126.
John, Revelation of, 23.
John without Fear, 36, 45.
Jouvenet, 130.
_Judgment of Paris, The_, 119.
Jumeau, Pierre le, 28, 29.
Karcher, John, 82.
Karcher, Nicholas, 76, 82, 84, 85, 223.
_Kingdom of Heaven, The_, 59.
King's Works, 171.
_Lady and the Unicorn, The_, 44, 54, 175, 181, 203.
Lancaster, Duke of, 33.
La Marche, 157, 158.
La Planche, Raphael de, 96, 165, 166.
Laurent, Henri, 95, 96, 109.
Lebrun, 74, 99, 103, 104, 107, 109-120, 188, 203, 209, 211, 212,
213.
Lefevre (or Lefebvre), 98, 109, 126, 222, 223.
Leipzig, 152.
Leleu, 105.
Leo X, Pope, 70, 71, 86.
Leonardo da Vinci, 90.
Le Pape, 147.
Leprince, 151.
Lerambert, Henri, 94, 211.
Lettering, 183-184, 203.
Leyniers, Nicolas, 221.
Liege, tapestries of, 48.
_Life of Marie de Medici_, 197.
_Life of the King_, 114, 144, 188.
Lisse, 3, 193.
Loches, church of, 41.
London, 165.
"Long wool" (_longue laine_), 160.
Looms, 3, 226-230.
Lorenzo the Magnificent, 86.
Louis XI, 36, 47, 48, 50, 54.
Louis XII, 48.
Louis XIII, 98.
Louis XIV, 10, 97-107, 117, 118, 122, 129, 145, 155-157, 161, 188,
203, 211, 212.
Louis XV, 127, 128, 129, 132, 133, 135, 136, 150, 162, 191, 205,
213.
Louis XVI, 133, 136, 137, 152, 162.
Louvois, 116-121.
Louvre, 97, 108, 109, 115, 160, 161.
_Loves of the Gods_, 132.
Low-warp, 3, 78, 109, 114, 147, 157, 158, 193, 227, 228, 230.
Maecht, Philip de, 166, 170, 223, 224.
Maincy, factory of. _See_ Vaux.
Maintenon, Mme. de, 118, 122, 124.
Mangelschot, 138.
Mantegna, Andrea, 61, 73, 81, 171.
Manufactory, Royal (Aubusson), 156.
Marie Antoinette, 133, 137, 152.
_Marie de Medici, Life of_, 197.
Marie Therese, 118.
Marks, 216-224.
Martel, Charles, 154, 155.
Mary's Chamber at Holyrood, 65.
Master-weaver, 6.
Matilda (Queen), 21, 242, 245.
_Mausolus and Artemisia_, 93.
Mazarin, Cardinal, 59, 100.
Mazarin tapestry, 56, 196.
Medici, 84, 92, 94.
_Meleager and Atalanta_, 222.
Memling, 55.
Mercier, Pierre, 157.
_Mercury_, 75, 76, 78, 196.
Merton Abbey, 252, 257-261.
Metropolitan Museum of Art, 15, 40, 42, 46, 52, 58, 59, 76, 80,
162, 170, 174, 176, 187, 210, 238.
Meulen, Francois de la, 114.
Michael Angelo, 84.
Micou, 148.
Middle Ages, 5, 6, 7, 19, 21, 27, 42, 201.
Mignard, Pierre, 119, 120, 121.
Millefleurs, 4, 13.
Missals, 5.
Monasteries, influence of, 21, 22.
Montespan, Mme. de, 118, 131, 148.
Montezert, Pierre de, 158.
_Months, The_, 112, 133, 197, 212.
Morgan, J. P., 40, 56, 59, 128, 196, 250.
Morris, William, 257-261.
Mortlake, 163-171, 197, 223.
Mozin, Jean Baptiste, 109.
_Muses_, 104, 141.
Museums, Boston Fine Arts, 15, 46, 56, 238;
Chicago Institute of Art, 47, 78, 221;
Cluny, 44, 54;
Gobelins (Paris), 92, 99, 252;
Metropolitan (New York), 15, 40, 42, 52, 58, 59, 76, 80, 162,
170, 174, 176, 187, 210, 238;
Nancy, 37.
_Mysteries of the Life and Death of Jesus Christ, The_, 87, 208.
Nancy, Museum of, 37.
Nantes, Edict of; its effect, 95, 118, 157.
Napoleon, 136, 142, 143, 144, 208.
_Napoleon Crossing the Alps_, 144.
Natoire, Charles, 151.
Neilson, 132.
Nineteenth Century, 255.
Notre Dame, 21.
Otho, Count of Burgundy, 32.
Oudenarde, 221.
Oudry, 131, 148-152, 257.
Pannemaker, Wilhelm de, 62, 75, 220.
Paris, 10, 28, 29, 30, 47, 51, 90, 98, 132, 163, 222, 229.
Parrish, Maxfield, 264.
Parrocel, Charles, 130.
_Passing of Venus, The_, 259.
Pendleton, Charlotte, 235.
Penelope, 15, 16, 21, 227.
Pepersack, Daniel, 99.
Percier, 143.
"_Perse, a la facon de, ou du Levant_," 160.
Persia, 19.
Personages, 4.
Perspective, 175-177.
Pharaohs, 18, 57.
Philip the Good, 36.
Philip the Hardy, 22, 29, 33, 34, 35, 45.
Philippe (Regent), 122, 128, 134, 148, 236.
Pickering, Sir Gilbert, 171.
Pius X, Pope, 9.
Planche, Francois de la, 95, 96, 97, 107.
Poitiers, 23, 154, 155.
Poitou, Count of, 23.
_Portieres des Dieux_, 126.
Portraits, 133, 140, 143, 162, 253.
_Presentation in the Temple, The_, 30.
Quedlimburg Hanging, 25.
Quentin Matsys, 58, 59.
Raphael, 9, 64, 67, 69, 70, 71, 79, 84, 118, 119, 145, 169, 187,
189, 205, 207, 214, 216, 221.
Ravaillac, 97.
Renaissance, influence of, 9, 53, 61, 67, 68, 69, 70, 77, 78, 174,
178, 182, 184, 186, 187, 188, 189, 191, 192.
_Renommes, Les_, 111.
Repairs, 237-240.
Revolution, French, 137, 138, 139, 140, 142, 152.
_Reward of Virtue, The_, 51.
Rheims, 99, 155.
Richelieu, 99.
Riesner, 107.
Riviera, Giacomo della, 87.
Rococo, 128.
Roman influence, 186.
Romanelli, 87, 88, 130.
Romano, Giulio, 73, 74, 84, 93, 118.
Rome, 18, 27.
Rome, Jean de, or Jan von Room, 56, 58, 59, 216.
Rost, John, 76, 84, 85, 223.
Rouen, 21.
Royal Collection, Madrid, 187.
_Royal Hunts, The_, 130, 188.
_Royal Residences, The_, 112, 197, 203, 212.
Rubens, 79, 104, 110, 111, 112, 169, 187, 209, 210, 211, 214.
Ryerson collection, 59, 60, 61.
Ryswick, Peace of, 121.
_Sack of Jerusalem, The_, 45, 176.
_Sacraments, The_, 38, 46, 52, 174, 176, 192.
_Sacred and Profane Love_, 254.
St. Denis, abbey of, 22.
St. Florent, Abbot of, 23.
St. Germain, 109.
St. John the Divine, Cathedral of, 87, 88, 208.
St. Marceau, 97.
St. Merri, 95.
Saracens, 28, 154, 155, 178.
Sarrazinois, 28, 29, 47.
Saumur, 20.
Savonnerie, 97, 159-162.
_Seasons, The_, 132.
_Seven Cardinal Virtues, The_, 34.
_Seven Cardinal Vices, The_, 34.
_Seven Deadly Sins, The_, 6, 250.
Seventeenth Century, 10, 76, 86, 96, 99, 123, 158, 160, 163, 180,
185, 187, 194, 207, 208, 211.
Sevigne, Mme. de, 101, 103.
Sforza Castle, 90.
Shaw, Byram, 260.
Shuttle, 4.
_Siege of Calais_, 141.
Silver, use of, 6.
Sixteenth Century, 29, 54, 56, 58, 62, 73, 74, 79, 163, 183, 187,
221, 223.
Sorel, Agnes, 41.
Spain, 54.
Spitzer, collection of Baron, 59, 60, 61.
_Spring_, 180.
Stockholm, 152.
_Story of Christ, The_, 99.
"Stromaturgie, La," 161.
Stradano, 85.
Sully, 94, 95, 164.
Sumner, Howard, 260.
Tapissiers, 4, 5, 228.
Tenth Century, 20, 22.
Tessier, Louis, 135.
Thirteenth Century, 25, 26, 27, 28.
Titian, 73.
Tournelles, 96, 97.
Tours, 99.
_Transfiguration, The_, 254.
"Tres Riches Heures, Les," 41.
Trinite, Hopital de la, 92, 93, 95, 97, 109.
_Triumph of Caesar, The_, 171.
_Triumph of Right, The_, 51.
_Triumphs of the Gods_, 74.
_Troy, History of_, 81.
Troy, J. F. de, 131.
_Truth Blindfolded_, 260.
Tuileries, 97.
Tuscans, 27.
Twelfth Century, 23, 28.
Urban VIII, History of, 88.
Urbino, Duke Frederick of, 81.
Valliere, Mme. de la, 118.
Van Aelst, 70, 71, 86, 220, 221, 222.
Van den Strecken, Gerard, 80, 222.
Van der Straaten, Johan, 85.
Van Dyck, 169.
Van Eycks, 27, 55, 58.
Van Orley, Bernard, 55, 220.
Vaux, factory of, 99, 103, 105, 111, 112.
Venice, 10, 89.
_Venus_, 180.
Verdure, 4, 158, 222.
Vermeyen, Jan, 62.
Veronese, Paolo, 73.
Versailles, 109.
_Vertumnus and Pomona, The Loves of_, 76, 78, 220.
Vignory, Count of, 131.
_Virgin and Saints_, 21.
_Visit of Louis XIV to the Gobelins_, 113.
Von Zedlitz, Anna, 170, 224.
Vouet, Simon, 211.
_Vulcan, The Expulsion of_, 170, 224.
_Vulcan, Story of_, 169.
Warp, 232.
Watteau, Andre, 126, 188.
Wauters, 87.
Weave, 194-196.
Weavers, 5.
Webb, Philip, 260.
William the Conqueror, 242.
Williamsbridge, 262.
Winterhalter, 253.
Woolsey, Cardinal, 250.
Zegre, Jean, 103.
Transcriber's Note
Minor typographic errors of spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have
been repaired. Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved as
printed.
The following errors in facing page number references have been repaired:
Page 61--plate reference to page 81 amended to 82.
Page 76--plate references for the "Vertumnus and Pomona"
series amended from 39 through 42 to 72 through 75.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Tapestry Book, by Helen Churchill Candee