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ENGLISH EMBROIDERED BOOKBINDINGS
[Illustration: 19--Christopherson, Historia Ecclesiastica. Lovanii,
1569.]
EDITED BY
ALFRED POLLARD
ENGLISH
EMBROIDERED
BOOKBINDINGS
BY CYRIL DAVENPORT, F. S. A
AUTHOR OF
'THE ENGLISH REGALIA'
ETC.
LONDON
KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRÜBNER
AND COMPANY, LIMITED
1899
The English
Bookman's
Library
Edinburgh: T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty
CONTENTS AND LIST OF PLATES
PAGE
GENERAL INTRODUCTION, ix
By Alfred W. Pollard.
ENGLISH EMBROIDERED BINDINGS
By Cyril Davenport.
CHAPTER I.--Introductory, 1
PLATES.
1. Embroidered Bag for Psalms. _London_, 1633, 17
2. Embroidered Cover for New Testament. _London_, 1640, 18
CHAPTER II.--Books Bound in Canvas, 28
PLATES.
3. The Felbrigge Psalter. 13th-century MS., 29
4. The Miroir or Glasse of the Synneful Soul. MS. by
the Princess Elizabeth. 1544, 32
5. Prayers of Queen Katherine Parr. MS. by the
Princess Elizabeth. 1545, 33
6. Christian Prayers. _London_, 1581, 37
7. Psalms and Common Praier. _London_, 1606, 38
8. Bible, etc. _London_, 1612, 39
9. Sermons by Samuel Ward. _London_, 1626-7, 41
10. New Testament, etc. _London_, 1625-35, 42
11. The Daily Exercise of a Christian. _London_, 1623, 44
12. Bible. _London_, 1626, 45
13. Bible, etc. _London_, 1642, 48
14. Bible. _London_, 1648, 49
CHAPTER III.--Books Bound in Velvet, 52
PLATES.
15. Très ample description de toute la terre Saincte,
etc. MS. 1540, 52
16. Biblia. _Tiguri_, 1543, 54
17. Il Petrarcha. _Venetia_, 1544, 55
18. Queen Mary's Psalter. 14th century MS., 57
19. Christopherson, Historia Ecclesiastica. _Lovanii_, 1569,
_Frontispiece_
20. Christian Prayers. _London_, 1570, 59
21. Parker, De antiquitate Ecclesiæ Britannicæ. _London_, 1572, 60
22. The Epistles of St. Paul. _London_, 1578, 63
23. Christian Prayers, etc. _London_, 1584, 65
24. Orationis Dominicæ Explicatio, etc. _Genevæ_, 1583, 67
25. Bible. _London_, 1583, 68
26. The Commonplaces of Peter Martyr. _London_, 1583, 69
27. Biblia. _Antverpiæ_, 1590, 70
28. Udall, Sermons. _London_, 1596, 71
29. Collection of Sixteenth-Century Tracts, 72
30. Bacon, Opera. _Londini_, 1623, 75
31. Bacon, Essays. 1625, 76
32. Common Prayer. _London_, 1638, 77
33. Bible. _Cambridge_, 1674, 78
CHAPTER IV.--Books Bound in Satin, 80
PLATES.
34. Collection of Sixteenth-Century Tracts, 80
35. New Testament in Greek. _Leyden_, 1576, 81
36. Bible. _London_, 1619, 84
37. Emblemes Chrestiens. MS. 1624, 85
38. New Testament. _London_, 1625, 86
39. New Testament and Psalms. _London_, 1630, 89
40. Henshaw, Horæ Successivæ. _London_, 1632, 90
41. Psalms. _London_, 1633, 91
42. Psalms. _London_, 1635, 92
43. Psalms. _London_, 1633, 94
44. Bible. _London_, 1638, 96
45. Psalms. _London_, 1639, 98
46. The Way to True Happiness. _London_, 1639, 99
47. New Testament. _London_, 1640, 101
48. Psalms. _London_, 1641, 103
49. Psalms. _London_, 1643, 105
50. Psalms. _London_, 1643, 106
51. Psalms. _London_, 1646, 108
52. Bible. _London_, 1646, 109
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
A new series of 'Books about Books,' exclusively English in its aims,
may seem to savour of the patriotism which, in matters of art and
historical research, is, with reason enough, often scoffed at as a
treacherous guide. No doubt in these pleasant studies patriotism acts as
a magnifying-glass, making us unduly exaggerate details. On the other
hand, it encourages us to try to discover them, and just at present this
encouragement seems to be needed. There are so many gaps in our
knowledge of the history of books in England that we can hardly claim
that our own dwelling is set in order, and yet many of our bookmen
appear more inclined to re-decorate their neighbours' houses than to do
work that still urgently needs to be done at home. The reasons for this
transference of energy are not far to seek. It is quite easy to be
struck with the inferiority of English books and their accessories, such
as bindings and illustrations, to those produced on the Continent. To
compare the books printed by Caxton with the best work of his German or
Italian contemporaries, to compare the books bound for Henry, Prince of
Wales, with those bound for the Kings of France, to try to find even a
dozen English books printed before 1640 with woodcuts (not imported
from abroad) of any real artistic merit--if any one is anxious to
reinforce his national modesty, here are three very efficacious methods
of doing it! On the other hand, English book-collectors have always been
cosmopolitan in their tastes, and without leaving England it is possible
to study to some effect, in public or private libraries, the finest
books of almost any foreign country. It is small wonder, therefore, that
our bookmen, when they have been minded to write on their hobbies, have
sought beauty and stateliness of work where they could most readily find
them, and that the labourers in the book-field of our own country are
not numerous. Touchstone's remark, 'a poor thing, but mine own,' might,
on the worst view of the case, have suggested greater diligence at home;
but on a wider view English book-work is by no means a 'poor thing.' Its
excellence at certain periods is as striking as its inferiority at
others, and it is a literal fact that there is no art or craft connected
with books in which England, at one time or another, has not held the
primacy in Europe.
It would certainly be unreasonable to complain that printing with
movable types was not invented at a time better suited to our national
convenience. Yet the fact that the invention was made just in the middle
of the fifteenth century constituted a handicap by which the printing
trade in this country was for generations overweighted. At almost any
earlier period, more particularly from the beginning of the fourteenth
century to the first quarter of the fifteenth, England would have been
as well equipped as any foreign country to take its part in the race.
From the production of Queen Mary's Psalter at the earlier date to that
of the Sherborne Missal at the later, English manuscripts, if we may
judge from the scanty specimens which the evil days of Henry VIII. and
Edward VI. have left us, may vie in beauty of writing and decoration
with the finest examples of Continental art. If John Siferwas, instead
of William Caxton, had introduced printing into England, our English
incunabula would have taken a far higher place. But the sixty odd years
which separate the two men were absolutely disastrous to the English
book-trade. After her exhausting and futile struggle with France, England
was torn asunder by the wars of the Roses, and by the time these were
ended the school of illumination, so full of promise, and seemingly so
firmly established, had absolutely died out. When printing was introduced
England possessed no trained illuminators or skilful scribes such as in
other countries were forced to make the best of the new art in order not
to lose their living, nor were there any native wood-engravers ready to
illustrate the new books. I have never myself seen or heard of a 'Caxton'
in which an illuminator has painted a preliminary border or initial
letters; even the rubrication, where it exists, is usually a
disfigurement; while as for pictures, it has been unkindly said that
inquiry whence they were obtained is superfluous, since any boy with a
knife could have cut them as well.
Making its start under these unfavourable conditions, the English
book-trade was exposed at once to the full competition of the
Continental presses, Richard III. expressly excluding it from
the protection which was given to other industries. Practically all
learned books of every sort, the great majority of our service-books,
most grammars for use in English schools, and even a few popular books
of the kind to which Caxton devoted himself, were produced abroad for
the English market and freely imported. Only those who mistake the
shadow for the substance will regret this free trade, to which we owe
the development of scholarship in England during the sixteenth century.
None the less, it was hard on a young industry, and though Pynson,
Wynkyn de Worde, the Faques, Berthelet, Wolfe, John Day, and others
produced fine books in England during the sixteenth century, the start
given to the Continental presses was too great, and before our printers
had fully caught up their competitors, they too were seized with the
carelessness and almost incredible bad taste which marks the books of
the first half of the seventeenth century in every country of Europe.
Towards the close of the eighteenth century, as is well known, the
French thought sufficiently well of Baskerville's types to purchase a
fount after his death for the printing of an important edition of the
works of Voltaire. But the merits of Baskerville as a printer, never
very cordially admitted, are now more hotly disputed than ever; and if I
am asked at what period English printing has attained that occasional
primacy which I have claimed for our exponents of all the bookish arts,
I would boldly say that it possesses it at the present day. On the one
hand, the Kelmscott Press books, on their own lines, are the finest and
the most harmonious which have ever been produced; on the other, the
book-work turned out in the ordinary way of business by the five or six
leading printers of England and Scotland seems to me, both in technical
qualities and in excellence of taste, the finest in the world, and with
no rival worth mentioning, except in the work of one or two of the best
firms in the United States. Moreover, as far as I can learn, it is only
in Great Britain and America that the form of books is now the subject
of the ceaseless experiment and ingenuity which are the signs of a
period of artistic activity.
As regards book-illustration the same claim may be put forward, though
with a little more hesitation. We have been taught lately, with
insistence, that 'the sixties' marked an epoch in English art, solely
from the black and white work in illustrated books. At that period our
book-pictures are said to have been the best in the world; unfortunately
our book-decoration, whether better or worse than that of other
countries, was almost unmitigatedly bad. In the last quarter of a
century our decorative work has improved in the most striking manner;
our illustrations, if judged merely for their pictorial qualities, have
not advanced. In the eyes of artists the sketches for book-work now
being produced in other countries are probably as good as our own. But
an illustration is not merely a picture, it is a picture to be placed
in a certain position in a printed book, and in due relation to the size
of the page and the character of the type. English book-illustrators by
no means always realise this distinction, yet there is on the whole a
greater feeling for these proprieties in English books than in those of
other countries, and this is an important point in estimating merits.
Another important point is that the rule of the 'tint' or 'half-tone'
block, with its inevitable accompaniment of loaded paper, ugly to the
eye and heavy in the hand, though it has seriously damaged English
illustrated work, has not yet gained the predominance it has in other
countries. Our best illustrated books are printed from line-blocks, and
there are even signs of a possible revival of artistic wood-engraving.
In endeavouring to make good my assertion of what I have called the
occasional primacy of English book-work, I am not unaware of the danger
of trying, or seeming to try, to play the strains of 'Rule Britannia' on
my own poor penny whistle. As regards manuscripts, therefore, it is a
pleasure to be able to seek shelter behind the authority of Sir Edward
Maunde Thompson, whose words in this connection carry all the more
weight, because he has shown himself a severe critic of the claims
which have been put forward on behalf of several fine manuscripts to be
regarded as English. In the closing paragraphs of his monograph on
_English Illuminated Manuscripts_ he thus sums up the pretensions of the
English school:--
'The freehand drawing of our artists under the Anglo-Saxon kings
was incomparably superior to the dead copies from Byzantine models
which were in favour abroad. The artistic instinct was not
destroyed, but rather strengthened, by the incoming of Norman
influence; and of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries there is
abundant material to show that English book-decoration was then at
least equal to that of neighbouring countries. For our art of the
early fourteenth century we claim a still higher position, and
contend that no other nation could at that time produce such
graceful drawing. Certainly inferior to this high standard of
drawing was the work of the latter part of that century; but still,
as we have seen, in the miniatures of this time we have examples of
a rising school of painting which bid fair to attain to a high
standard of excellence, and which only failed for political
causes.'[1]
To this judicial pronouncement on the excellence of English manuscripts
on their decorative side, we may fairly add the fact that manuscripts of
literary importance begin at an earlier date in England than in any
other country, and that the Cotton MS. of _Beowulf_ and the
miscellanies which go by the names of the _Exeter Book_ and the
_Vercelli Book_ have no contemporary parallels in the rest of Europe.
[Footnote 1: _English Illuminated Manuscripts._ By Sir Edward Maunde
Thompson, K. C. B. (Kegan Paul, 1895), pp. 66, 67.]
When we turn from books, printed or in manuscript, to their possessors,
it is only just to begin with a compliment to our neighbours across the
Channel. No English bookman holds the unique position of Jean Grolier,
and 'les femmes bibliophiles' of England have been few and
undistinguished compared with those of France. Grolier, however, and his
fair imitators, as a rule, bought only the books of their own day,
giving them distinction by the handsome liveries which they made them
don. Our English collectors have more often been of the omnivorous type,
and though Lords Lumley and Arundel in the sixteenth century cannot,
even when their forces are joined, stand up against De Thou, in Sir
Robert Cotton, Harley, Thomas Rawlinson, Lord Spencer, Heber, Grenville,
and Sir Thomas Phillips (and the list might be doubled without much
relaxation of the standard), we have a succession of English collectors
to whom it would be difficult to produce foreign counterparts. Round
these _dii majores_ have clustered innumerable demigods of the
book-market, and certainly in no other country has collecting been as
widely diffused, and pursued with so much zest, as in England during
the present century. It is to be regretted that so few English
collectors have cared to leave their marks of ownership on the books
they have taken so much pleasure in bringing together. Michael Wodhull
was a model in this respect, for his book-stamp is one of the most
pleasing of English origin, and his autograph notes recording the prices
he paid for his treasures, and his assiduous collation of them, make
them doubly precious in the eyes of subsequent owners. Mr. Grenville
also had his book-stamp, though there is little joy to be won from it,
for it is unpleasing in itself, and is too often found spoiling a fine
old binding. Mr. Cracherode's stamp was as graceful as Wodhull's; but,
as a rule, our English collectors, though, as Mr. Fletcher is
discovering, many more of them than is generally known have possessed a
stamp, have not often troubled to use it, and their collections have
never obtained the reputation which they deserve, mainly for lack of
marks of ownership to keep them green in the memory of later possessors.
That this should be so in a country where book-plates have been so
common may at first seem surprising. But book-plates everywhere have
been used rather by the small collectors than the great ones, and the
regrettable peculiarity of our English bookmen is, not that they
despised this rather fugitive sign of possession, but that for the most
part they despised book-stamps as well.
Of book-plates themselves I have no claim to speak; but for good taste
and grace of design the best English Jacobean and Chippendale specimens
seem to me the most pleasing of their kind, and certainly in our own day
the work of Mr. Sherborn has no rival, except in that of Mr. French,
who, in technique, would, I imagine, not refuse to call himself his
disciple.
I have purposely left to the last the subject of Bindings, as this,
being more immediately cognate to Mr. Davenport's book, may fairly be
treated at rather greater length. If the French dictum 'la reliure est
un art tout français' is not without its historical justification, it is
at least possible to show that England has done much admirable work, and
that now and again, as in the other bookish arts, she has attained
preeminence.
The first point which may fairly be made is that England is the only
country besides France in which the art has been consistently practised.
In Italy, binding, like printing, flourished for a little over half a
century with extraordinary vigour and grace, and then fell suddenly and
completely from its high estate. From 1465 to the death of Aldus the
books printed in Italy were the finest in the world; from the beginning
of the work of Aldus to about 1560 Italian bindings possess a freedom of
graceful design which even the superior technical skill quickly gained
by the French does not altogether outbalance. But just as after about
1520 a finely printed Italian book can hardly be met with, so after
1560, save for a brief period during which certain fan-shaped designs
attained prettiness, there have been no good Italian bindings. In
Germany, when in the fifteenth century, before the introduction of gold
tooling, there was a thriving school of binders working in the mediæval
manner, the Renaissance brought with it an absolute decline. Holland,
again, which in the fifteenth century had made a charming use of large
panel stamps, has since that period had only two binders of any
reputation, Magnus and Poncyn, of Amsterdam, who worked for the
Elzéviers and Louis XIV. Of Spanish bindings few fine specimens
have been unearthed, and these are all early. Only England can boast
that, like France, she has possessed one school of binders after
another, working with varying success from the earliest times down to
the present century, in which bookbinding all over Europe has suffered
from the servility with which the old designs, now for the first time
fully appreciated, have been copied and imitated.
In this length of pedigree it must be noted that England far surpasses
even France herself. The magnificent illuminated manuscripts, the finest
of their age, which were produced at Winchester during the tenth
century, were no doubt bound in the jewelled metal covers of which the
rapacity of the sixteenth century has left hardly a single trace in this
country. But early in the twelfth century, if not before, the Winchester
bookmen turned their attention also to leather binding, and the school
of design which they started, spreading to Durham, London, and Oxford,
did not die out in England until it was ousted by the large panel stamps
introduced from France at the end of the fifteenth. The predominant
feature of these Winchester bindings (of which a fine example from the
library of William Morris recently sold for £180), and of their
successors, is the employment of small stamps, from half an inch to an
inch in size, sometimes circular, more often square or pear-shaped, and
containing figures, grotesques, or purely conventional designs. A
circle, or two half-circles, formed by the repetition of one stamp,
within one or more rectangles formed by others, is perhaps the commonest
scheme of decoration, but it is the characteristic of these bindings, as
of the finest in gold tooling, that by the repetition of a few small
patterns an endless variety of designs could be built up. The British
Museum possesses a few good examples of this stamp-work, but the finest
collections of them are in the Cathedral libraries at Durham and
Hereford. Any one, however, who is interested in this work can easily
acquaint himself with it by consulting the unique collection of rubbings
carefully taken by Mr. Weale and deposited in the National Art Library
at the South Kensington Museum. In these rubbings, as in no other way,
the history of English binding can be studied from the earliest
Winchester books to the charming Oxford bindings executed by Thomas
Hunt, the English partner of the Cologne printer, Rood, about 1481.
During the first half of this period the English leather binders were
the finest in Europe; during the second, the Germans pressed them hard,
and when the large panel stamps, three or four inches square and more,
were introduced in Holland and France, the English adaptations of them
were distinctly inferior to the originals. The earliest English bindings
with gold tooling were, of course, also imitative. The use of gold
reached this country but slowly, as the first known English binding, in
which it occurs, is on a book printed in 1541, by which time the art had
been common in Italy for a generation. The English bindings found on
books bound for Henry VIII., Edward VI., and Mary I., all of which are
roughly assigned to Berthelet as the Royal binder, resemble the current
Italian designs of the day, with sufficient differences to make it
probable that they were produced by Englishmen. We know, however,
that until the close of the century there were occasional complaints
of the presence of foreign binders in London, and it is probable that
the Grolieresque bindings executed for Wotton were foreign rather than
English. Where, however, we find work on English books distinctly unlike
anything in France or Italy, it is reasonable to assign it to a native
school, and such a school seems to have grown up about 1570, in the
workshop of John Day, the helper of Archbishop Parker in so many of his
literary undertakings. These bindings attributed to Day, especially
those in which he worked with white leather on brown, although they have
none of the French delicacy of tooling, perhaps for this reason attack
the problem of decoration with a greater sense of the difference between
the styles suitable for a large book and a small than is always found in
France, where the greatest binders, such as Nicholas Eve and Le Gascon,
often covered large folios with endless repetitions of minute tools whose
full beauty can only be appreciated on duodecimos or octavos. The English
designs with a large centre ornament and corner-pieces are rich and
impressive, and we may fairly give Day and his fellows the palm for
originality and effectiveness among Elizabethan binders. In the next
reign the French use of the semé or powder, a single small stamp, of a
fleur-de-lys, a thistle, a crown, or the like, impressed in rows all over
the cover, was increasingly imitated in England, very unsuccessfully,
and, save for a few traces of the style of Day, the leather bindings of
the first third of the century deserve the worst epithets which
can be given them.
Until, however, French fashions came into vogue after the Restoration,
English binders had never been content to regard leather as the sole
material in which they could work. Embroidered bindings had come early
into use in England, and a Psalter embroidered by Anne Felbrigge towards
the close of the fourteenth century is preserved at the British Museum,
and shown in one of Mr. Davenport's illustrations. In the sixteenth
century embroidered work was very popular with the Tudor princesses,
gold and silver thread and pearls being largely used, often with very
decorative effect. The simplest of these covers are also the best--but
great elaboration was often employed, and on a presentation copy of
Archbishop Parker's _De Antiquitate Ecclesiæ Britannicæ_ we find a
clever but rather grotesque representation of a deer-paddock. Under the
Stuarts the lighter feather-stitch was preferred, and there seems to
have been a regular trade in embroidered Bibles and Prayer-books of
small size, sometimes with floral patterns, sometimes with portraits of
the King, or Scriptural scenes. A dealer's freak which compelled the
British Museum to buy a pair of elaborate gloves of the period rather
than lose a finely embroidered Psalter, with which they went, was
certainly a fortunate one, enabling us to realise that in hands thus
gloved these little bindings, always pretty, often really artistic, must
have looked exactly right, while their vivid colours must have been
admirably in harmony with the gay Cavalier dresses.
Besides furnishing a ground for embroidery, velvet bindings were often
decorated, in England, with goldsmith work. One of the most beautiful
little bookcovers in existence is on a book of prayers, bound for Queen
Elizabeth in red velvet, with a centre and corner pieces delicately
enamelled on gold. Under the Stuarts, again, we frequently find similar
ornaments in engraved silver, and their charm is incontestable.
Thus while for English bindings of this period in gilt leather we can
only claim that Berthelet's show some freedom in their adaptation of
Italian models, and Day's a more decided originality, we are entitled to
set side by side with this scanty record a host of charming bindings in
more feminine materials, which have no parallel in France, and certainly
deserve some recognition. After the Restoration, however, leather
quickly ousted its competitors, and a school of designers and gilders
arose in England, which, while taking its first inspiration from Le
Gascon, soon developed an individual style. In effectiveness, though not
in minute accuracy of execution, this may rank with the best in Europe.
We can trace the beginnings of this lighter and most graceful work as
early as the thirties, and it might be contended with a certain
plausibility that it began at the Universities. Certainly the two
earliest examples known to me--the copy of her _Statutes_ presented to
Charles I. by Oxford in 1634, and the Little Gidding _Harmony_
of 1635, the tools employed in which have been shown by Mr. Davenport to
have been used also by Buck, of Cambridge--are two of the finest English
bindings in existence, and in both cases, despite the multiplicity of
the tiny tools employed, there is a unity and largeness of design which,
as I have ventured to hint, is not always found even in the best French
work. The chief English bindings after the Restoration, those associated
with the name of Samuel Mearne, the King's Binder, preserve this
character, though the attempt to break the formality of the rectangle by
the bulges at the side and the little penthouses at foot and head
(whence its name, the 'cottage' style) was not wholly successful. The
use of the labour-saving device of the 'roll,' in preference to
impressing each section of the pattern by hand, is another blot.
Nevertheless, it is almost impossible to find an English or Scotch
binding of this period which is less than charming, and the best of them
are admirable. At the beginning of the eighteenth century a new grace
was added by the inlaying of a leather of a second colour. These inlaid
English bindings are few in number (the British Museum has not a single
fine example), but those who know the specimens exhibited at the
Burlington Fine Arts Club, two of which are figured in its Catalogue,
will readily allow that their grace has never been surpassed. The fine
Harleian bindings let us down gently from this eminence, and then, after
a period of mere dulness, with the rise of Roger Payne we have again an
English school (for Payne's traditions were worthily followed by Charles
Lewis) which, by common consent, was the finest of its time. Payne's
originality is, perhaps, not quite so absolute as has been maintained,
for some of his tools were cut in the pattern of Mearne's, and it would
be possible to find suggestions for some of his schemes of arrangement
in earlier English work. If he borrowed, however, he borrowed from his
English predecessors, and he brought to his task an individuality and an
artistic instinct which cannot be denied.
After Payne and Lewis, English binding, like French, became purely
imitative in its designs; but while in our own decade the French artists
have endeavoured to shake themselves free from old traditions by mere
eccentricity, in England we have several living binders, such as Mr.
Cobden Sanderson and Mr. Douglas Cockerell, who work with notable
originality and yet with the strictest observance of the canons of their
art.
Moreover in the application of decorative designs to cloth cases England
has invented, and England and America have brought to perfection, an
inexpensive and very pleasing form of book-cover, which gives the
bookman ample time to consider whether his purchase is worth the more
permanent honours of gilded leather, and also, by the facts that it is
avowedly temporary, and that its decoration is cheaply and easily
effected by large stamps, renders forgivable vagaries of design, which
when translated, as they have been of late years in France, into the
time-honoured and solemn leather, seem merely incongruous and
irreverent.
In binding, then, as in the other bookish arts, the part which English
workers have played has been no insignificant or unworthy one, and the
development of this art, as of the others, in our own country is worthy
of study. In this case much has already been done, for the illustrations
of _English Bookbindings at the British Museum_, edited, with
introduction and descriptions by Mr. W. Y. Fletcher, present the student
with the best possible survey of the whole subject, while the excellent
treatises of Miss Prideaux and Mr. Horne bring English bookbinding into
relation with that of other countries. Here, then, there is no need of a
new general history, but rather of special monographs, treating more in
detail of the periods at which our English binders have done the best
work. The old stamped bindings of the days of manuscript, the
embroidered bindings of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the
leather bindings of Mearne and his fellows under the later Stuarts, and
the work of Roger Payne--all these seem to offer excellent subjects for
unpretentious monographs, and it is hoped that others of them besides
the _English Embroidered Bindings_, with which Mr. Davenport has made a
beginning, may be treated in this series.
In other subjects the ground has not yet been cleared to the same
extent, and for the history of English Book-Collectors and English
Printing, not special monographs, but good general surveys are the first
need. To say much on this subject might bring me perilously near to
re-writing the prospectus of this series. It is enough to have pointed
out that the bookish arts in England are well worth more study than they
have yet been given, and that the pioneers who are endeavouring to
enlarge knowledge, each in his own section, may fairly hope that their
efforts will be received with indulgence and good-will.
ALFRED W. POLLARD.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER I
EMBROIDERED BOOKS
The application of needlework to the embellishment of the bindings of
books has hitherto almost escaped special notice. In most of the works
on the subject of English Bookbinding, considered from the decorative
point of view in distinction from the technical, a few examples of
embroidered covers have indeed received some share of attention. Thus in
both Mr. H. B. Wheatley's and Mr. W. Y. Fletcher's works on the bindings
in the British Museum, in Mr. Salt Brassington's _Historic Bindings in
the Bodleian Library_ and _History of the Art of Bookbinding_, and in my
own _Portfolio_ monograph on 'Royal English Bookbindings,' some of the
finer specimens of embroidered books still existing are illustrated and
described. But up to the present no attempt has been made to deal with
them as a separate subject. In the course, however, of the many lectures
on Decorative Bookbinding which it has been my pleasure and honour to
deliver during the past few years, I have invariably noticed that the
pictures and descriptions of embroidered specimens have been the most
keenly appreciated, and this favourable sign has led me to examine and
consider such examples as have come in my way more carefully than I
might otherwise have done. Very little study sufficed to show that in
England alone there was for a considerable period a regular and large
production of embroidered books, and further, that the different styles
of these embroideries are clearly defined, equally from the
chronological and artistic points of view. A peculiarly English art
which thus lends itself to orderly treatment may fairly be made the
subject of a brief monograph.
With the exception of point-lace, which is sometimes made in small
pieces for such purposes as ladies' cuffs or collars, decorative work
produced by the aid of the needle is generally large. Certainly this is
so in its finest forms, which are probably to be found in the
ecclesiastical vestments and in the altar frontals of the Renaissance
period, or even earlier. On the other hand, such work as exists on books
is always of small size, and, unlike the point-lace, it almost
invariably has more than one kind of 'stitchery' upon it--chain, split,
tapestry, satin, or what not.
Thus it can be claimed as a distinction for embroidered book-covers that
as a class they are the smallest complete embroideries existing, ranging
upwards from about 6 inches by 3-1/2 inches--the size of the smallest
specimen known to me, when opened out to its fullest extent, sides and
back in one. This covers a copy of the Psalms, printed in London in
1635, and is of white satin, with a small tulip worked in coloured silk
on each side.
An 'Embroidered Book,' it should be said, means for my purpose a book
which is covered, sides and back, by a piece of material ornamented with
needlework, following a design made for the purpose of adorning that
particular book. A cover consisting of merely a piece of woven stuff, or
even a piece of true embroidery cut from a larger piece, is not, from my
point of view, properly to be considered an 'embroidered book,' it being
essential that the design as well as the workmanship should have been
specially made for the book on which they are found; and this, in the
large majority of instances, is certainly the case.
With regard to the transference of bindings to books other than those
for which they were originally made, such a transference has often taken
place in the case of mediæval books bound in ornamental metal, but even
in these instances it must be recognised that such a change can seldom
be made without serious detriment. It is chiefly indeed from some
incongruity of style or technical mistake in the re-putting together
that we are led to guess that the covers have been thus tampered with.
Now and then such a transference occurs in the case of leather-bound
books, and in such instances is usually easy for a trained binder to
detect. Embroidered covers, on the other hand, have rarely been changed,
the motive for such a proceeding never having been strong, and the risk
attending it being obvious enough. We may, in fact, feel tolerably sure
that the large majority of embroidered covers still remain on the boards
of the books they were originally made for.
All the embroidered books now extant dating from before the reign of
Queen Elizabeth have gone through the very unfortunate operation of
're-backing,' in the course of which the old embroidered work is
replaced by new leather. The old head and tail bands, technically very
interesting, have been replaced by modern imitations, and considerable
damage has been done in distorting the work left on the sides of the
book. It would seem obvious that a canvas, velvet, or satin embroidered
binding, if it really must be re-backed or repaired at all, should be
mended with a material as nearly as possible of the same make and colour
as that of the original covering; but this has rarely been done, the
large majority of such repairs being executed in leather. But in the
case of such old bindings we must be grateful for small mercies, and
feel thankful that even the sides are left in so many cases. It is
indeed surprising that we still possess as much as we do. If all our
great collectors had been of the same mind as Henry Prince of Wales, the
Right Hon. Thomas Grenville, or even King George III., we
should have been far worse off, as although several fine old bindings
exist in their libraries, many which would now be priceless have been
destroyed, only to be replaced by comparatively modern bindings,
sometimes the best of their kind, but often in bad taste.
_Division of Embroidered Books according to the designs upon them._
The designs on embroidered books may be roughly divided into four
classes--Heraldic, Figure, Floral, and Arabesque.
The Heraldic designs always denote ownership, and are most frequently
found on Royal books bound in velvet, rarely occurring on silk or satin,
and never, as far as I have been able to ascertain, on canvas. The
Figure designs may be subdivided into three smaller classes, viz.:--
I. Scriptural, _e.g._ representations of Solomon and the
Queen of Sheba, Jacob wrestling with the Angel, David, etc.
II. Symbolical, _e.g._ figures of Faith, Hope, Peace,
Plenty, etc.
III. Portraits, _e.g._ of Charles I., Queen
Henrietta Maria, Duke of Buckingham, etc.
The Scriptural designs are most generally found on canvas-bound books;
the Symbolical figures, and Portraits, on satin, rarely on velvet. The
Floral and Arabesque designs are most common on small and unimportant
works bound in satin, but they occur now and then on both canvas and
velvet books. The true arabesques have no animal or insect forms among
them, the prophet Mohammed having forbidden his followers to imitate any
living thing.
It may further be noted that heraldic designs on embroidered books are
early, having been made chiefly during the sixteenth century, and that
the figure, floral, and arabesque designs most usually belong to the
seventeenth century. There are, of course, exceptions to these
divisions, notably in the case of the earliest existing embroidered
book, which has figure designs on both sides, but also maintains its
heraldic position, inasmuch as its edges are decorated with
coats-of-arms.
Naturally, again, it may be sometimes difficult to decide whether a
design should be classed as heraldic or floral. Such a difficulty occurs
as to the large Bible at Oxford bound in red velvet for Queen Elizabeth,
and bearing a design of Tudor and York roses. I consider it heraldic,
but it might, with no less appropriateness, be called floral. If it had
belonged to any one not a member of the Royal family it would
undoubtedly be properly counted as a floral specimen. Again, in many of
the portrait bindings flowers and arabesques are introduced, but they
are clearly subordinate, and the chief decorative motive of such designs
must be looked for, and the work classed accordingly. Thus it is evident
that the arrangement of the embroidered books by their designs cannot
be too rigidly applied, although it should not be lost sight of
altogether.
_Division of Embroidered Books according to the material on which they
are worked._
A more useful and accurate classification may however be found by help
of the material on which the embroidered work is done, and this division
is obvious and easy. With very few exceptions all embroidered books,
ancient and modern, are worked on _canvas_, _velvet_, or _satin_, and
while canvas was used continuously from the fourteenth century until the
middle of the seventeenth century, velvet was most largely used during
the Tudor period, and satin during that of the early Stuarts.
Broadly speaking, the essential differences in the kind of work found
upon these three materials follow the peculiarities of the materials
themselves. Canvas, in itself of no decorative value, is always
completely covered with needlework. Velvet, beautiful even when alone,
but difficult to work upon, usually has a large proportion of appliqué,
laid, or couched work, in coloured silk or satin, upon it, showing
always large spaces unworked upon, and such actual work as occurs
directly on the velvet is always in thick guimp or gold cord. Satin,
equally beautiful in its way, is also freely left unornamented in
places; the needlework directly upon it is often very fine and delicate
in coloured floss silks, generally closely protected by thick raised
frames or edges of metallic threads or fine gold or silver cords.
[Illustration: FIG. 1. Silken thread closely wound round with strip of
flat metal.]
[Illustration: FIG. 2. Silken thread loosely wound round with strip of
flat metal.]
[Illustration: FIG. 3. Strips of flat metal cut into shapes and kept
down by small stitches at regular intervals. Called 'Lizzarding.']
By 'metallic' threads, when they are not simply fine wires, I mean
strands of silk closely (Fig. 1) or loosely (Fig. 2) wound round with
narrow coils of thin metal, mostly silver or silver gilt. The use of
such threads, alone, or twisted into cords, is common on all styles of
embroidered books, and it is largely due to their use that pieces of
work apparently of the greatest delicacy are really extremely
durable--far more so than is generally supposed. Certainly if it had not
been for the efficient protection of these little metal walls we should
not possess, as we actually do, delicate-looking embroidered books,
hundreds of years old, in almost as good condition, except in the matter
of colour, as when they were originally made.
Thin pieces of metal are sometimes used alone, caught down at regular
intervals by small cross stitches; this is, I believe, called
'Lizzarding' (Fig. 3). Metal is also found in the form of 'guimp,' in
flattened spirals (Fig. 4), and also in the 'Purl,' or copper wire
covered with silk (Fig. 5), so common on the later satin books (compare
p. 46).
[Illustration: FIG. 4. Edging made with a piece of spiral wire
hammered flat, appearing like a series of small rings.]
[Illustration: FIG. 5. Loop made of a short length of Purl
threaded, the ends drawn together.]
Spangles appear to have been introduced during the reign of Elizabeth,
but they were never freely used on velvet, finding their proper place
ultimately on the satin books of a later time. The spangles are
generally kept in position either by a small section of purl (Fig. 6) or
a seed pearl (Fig. 7), in both cases very efficaciously, so that the use
of guimp or pearl was not only ornamental but served the same protective
purpose as the bosses on a shield, or those so commonly found upon the
sides of the stamped leather bindings of mediæval books.
[Illustration: FIG. 6. Spangle kept in place by a stitch
through a short piece of Purl.]
[Illustration: FIG. 7. Spangle kept in place by a stitch
through a seed pearl.]
[Illustration: FIG. 8. Binder's stamp for gold tooling, cut in
imitation of a spangle.]
It may be mentioned that the seventeenth-century Dutch binders, Magnus
and Poncyn, both of Amsterdam, invented a new tool for gilding on
leather bindings, used, of course, in combination with others. This was
cut to imitate the small circular spangles of the embroidered books
(Fig. 8), and the English and French finishers of a later period used
the same device with excellent effect for filling up obtrusive spaces on
the sides and backs of their decorative bindings. Thus it may be taken
as an axiom that, for the proper working of an embroidered book, except
it be tapestry-stitch or tent-stitch, on canvas, which is flat and
strong of itself, there should invariably be a liberal use of metal
threads, these being not only very decorative in themselves, but also
providing a valuable protection to the more delicate needlework at a
lower level, and to the material of the ground itself.
The earliest examples of embroidered bindings still existing are not by
any means such as would lead to the inference that they were exceptional
productions--made when the idea of the application of needlework to the
decoration of books was in its infancy. On the contrary, they are
instances of very skilled workmanship, so that it is probable that the
art was practised at an earlier date than we now have recorded. There
are, indeed, frequent notes in 'Wardrobe Accounts' and elsewhere of
books bound in velvet and satin at a date anterior to any now existing,
but there is no mention of embroidered work upon them.
_The Forwarding of Embroidered Books._
The processes used in the binding of embroidered books are the same as
in the case of leather-bound books; but there is one invariable
peculiarity--the bands upon which the different sections of the paper
are sewn are never in relief, so that it was always possible to paste
down a piece of material easily along the back without having to allow
for the projecting bands so familiar on leather bindings (Fig. 9). The
backs, moreover, are only rounded very slightly, if at all.
This flatness has been attained on the earlier books either by sewing on
flat bands, thin strips of leather or vellum (Fig. 10), or by flattening
the usual hempen bands as much as they will bear by the hammer, and
afterwards filling up the intermediate spaces with padding of some
suitable material, linen or thin leather.
In several instances the difficulty of flattening the bands has been
solved, in sixteenth-and seventeenth-century embroidered books, in a way
which cannot be too strongly condemned from a constructive point of
view, although it has served its immediate purpose admirably.
A small trench has been cut with a sharp knife for each band, deep
enough to sink it to the general level of the inner edges of the
sections (Fig. 11).
[Illustration: FIG. 9. Back of book sewn on raised bands.]
[Illustration: FIG. 10. Band of flat vellum sometimes found on
old books with flat backs.]
[Illustration: FIG. 11. Typical appearance of a book, before it
is sewn, with small trenches cut in the back in which the bands are to
be laid; a bad method, but often used to produce a flat back.]
This cutting of the back to make room for the bands was afterwards more
easily effected by means of a saw--as it is done now--and in the
eighteenth century was especially used by the French binder Derome le
Jeune, who is usually made responsible for its invention.
The existence of the sunken bands on early embroidered books probably
marks the beginning of this vicious system, but here there is some
excuse for it, whereas in the case of ordinary leather-bound books there
is none, except from the commercial standpoint.
In the case of vellum books there may be some reason for using the
'sawn in' bands, as it is certainly difficult to get vellum to fit
comfortably over raised bands, although numerous early instances exist
in which it has been successfully done. Again in the case of 'hollow
backs,' the bands are kept flat with some reason. But for all valuable
or finely bound books the system of 'sawing in' cannot be too strongly
condemned.
'Sawing in' can be detected by looking at the threads in the centre of
any section of a bound book from the inside. It will show as a small
hole with a piece of hemp or leather lying transversely across it, under
which the thread passes (Fig. 12).
[Illustration: FIG. 12.
Typical appearance of the sewing of a book with 'sawn in' bands, as seen
from the inside of each section. The bands just visible.]
In the case of a properly sewn book, the bands themselves cannot be seen
at all from the inside of the sections, unless, indeed, the book is
damaged (Fig. 13). If the covering of the back is off, or even loose,
the method of sewing that has been used can very easily be seen; and if
it appears that the bands are sunk in a small trench, that is the form
of sewing that is called 'sawn in,' or analogous to it.
[Illustration: FIG. 13.
Typical appearance of the sewing of a book on raised bands, as seen from
the inside of each section. The bands invisible. Known as 'flexible.']
Although in the embroidered books the bands of the backs do not show on
the surface, it is common enough to find the lines they probably follow
indicated in the work on the back, which is divided into panels by as
many transverse lines, braid or cord, as there are bands underneath
them. But in some cases the designer has used the back as one long
panel, and decorated it accordingly as one space. The headbands in some
of the earlier books were sewn at the same time as the other bands on
the sewing-press and drawn in to the boards, but in most early bindings
the ravaging repairer has been at work and made it impossible to know
for certain what was the state of the headbands before the book came
into his hands. Most of the existing headbands are made by hand in the
usual way, with the ends simply cut off, not indeed a very satisfactory
finish. It would be better if these ends were somehow drawn in to the
leather of the back, as for instance they still often are on thin vellum
books.
The great majority of embroidered books, both large and small, have had
ties of silk on their front edges--generally two, but sometimes only
one, which wraps round. These ties have generally worn away from the
outer side of the boards, but their ends can usually be traced (if the
book has not been repaired) in the inner side, covered only by a thin
piece of paper; and if this paper is loose, as often happens, and the
ends show well, it may often be advisable not to paste it down again at
that particular place.
The backs of old embroidered books are by far the weakest parts about
them. If they exist at all in their old forms they are always much worn,
and the work upon them so much damaged that it is often difficult to
make out even the general character of the design, to say nothing of the
details of the workmanship.
The edges of the leaves of books bound in England in embroidered
bindings are always ornamentally treated, sometimes simply gilded,
often further adorned with 'gauffred' work, that is to say, small
patterns impressed on the gold, and sometimes beautifully decorated with
elaborate designs having colour in parts as well. The earliest English
ornamentation of this kind in colour is found on the Felbrigge Psalter
and on some of the books embroidered for Henry VIII., one of
which is richly painted on the fore edges with heraldic designs, and
another with a motto written in gold on a delicately coloured ground.
_Cases for Embroidered Books._
Common though the small satin embroidered books must have been in
England during the earlier part of the seventeenth century, it is still
certain that the finer specimens were highly prized, and beautifully
worked bags were often made for their protection. These bags are always
of canvas, and most of them are decorated in the same way, the
backgrounds of silver thread with a design in tapestry-or tent-stitch,
and having ornamental strings and tassels. To describe one of these is
almost to describe all. The best preserved specimen I know belongs to a
little satin embroidered copy of the Psalms, printed in London in 1633,
and measures 5 inches long by 4 inches in depth.
[Illustration: 1--Embroidered Bag for Psalms. London, 1633.]
The same design is repeated on each side. A parrot on a small grass-plot
is in the middle of the lower edge. Behind the bird grow two curving
stems of thick gold braid, each curve containing a beautifully-worked
flower or fruit. In the centre is a carnation, and round it are arranged
consecutively a bunch of grapes, a pansy, a honeysuckle, and a double
rose, green leaves occurring at intervals. From the lower edge depend
three ornamental tassels of silver loops, with small acorns in silver
and coloured silks, one from the centre and one from each corner.
The top edge has two draw-strings of gold and red braid, each ending in
an ornamental oval acorn of silver thread and coloured silks, probably
worked on canvas over a wooden core, ending in a tassel similar to those
on the lower edge.
A long loop of gold and silver braid serves as a handle, or means of
attachment to a belt, and is fixed at each side near a strong double
loop of silver thread, used when pulling the bag open. The lining is of
pink silk. This particular bag is perfect in colour as well as
condition, but usually the silver has turned black, or nearly so.
Besides these very ornamental bags, others of quite simple workmanship
are occasionally found, worked in outline with coloured silks. As well
as the embroidered bags, certain rectangular cloths variously
ornamented, some richly, some plainly, were made and used for the
protection of embroidered books, when being read. These, like the bags,
only seem to have been used during the seventeenth century. A
particularly fine example belongs to a New Testament bound in
embroidered satin in 1640. It is of fine linen, measuring 16-1/2 by
9-1/4 inches, and is beautifully embroidered in a floral design, with
thick stalks of gold braid arranged in curves and bearing conventional
flowers and leaves, all worked in needle-point lace with coloured silks
in a wonderfully skilful manner.
In the centre is a double red rose with separate petals, and among the
other flowers are corn-flowers, honeysuckles, carnations, strawberries,
and several leaves, all worked in the same way, and appliqués at their
edges. Some, however, of the larger leaves and petals are ornamentally
fastened down to the linen by small coloured stitches arranged in lines
or patterns over their surfaces, as well as by the edge stitches. There
are several spangles scattered about in the spaces on the linen, and the
edge is bound with green silk and gold. On the book itself to which this
cover belongs there is a good deal of the same needle-point work,
probably executed by the same hand; but the cover is a finer piece
altogether than the book,--in fact it is the finest example of such work
I have ever seen.
[Illustration: 2--Embroidered Cover for New Testament. London, 1640.]
Abroad there have been made at various times embroidered bindings for
books, but in no country except England has there been any regular
production of them. I have come across a few cases in England of
foreign work, the most important of which I will shortly describe. In
the British Museum is an interesting specimen bound in red satin, and
embroidered with the arms of Felice Peretti, Cardinal de Montalt, who
was afterwards Pope Sixtus V.; the coat-of-arms has a little
coloured silk upon it, but the border and the cardinal's hat with
tassels are all outlined in gold cord. The work is of an elementary
character. The book itself is a beautiful illuminated vellum copy of
Fichet's _Rhetoric_, printed in Paris in 1471, and presented to the then
Pope, Sixtus IV. In the same collection are a few more instances of
Italian embroidered bindings, always heraldic in their main
designs, the workmanship not being of any particular excellence or
character. Perhaps altogether the most interesting Italian work of this
kind was done on books bound for Cardinal York, several of which still
remain, embroidered with his coat-of-arms, one of them being now in the
Royal Library at Windsor. Although the actual workmanship on these books
is foreign, we may perhaps claim them as having been suggested or made
by the order of the English Prince himself, inheriting the liking for
embroidered books from his Stuart ancestors.
French embroidered books are very rare, and I do not know of any
examples in England. Two interesting specimens, at least, are in the
Bibliothèque Nationale, and are described and figured in Bouchot's work
on the artistic bindings in that library. The earlier is on a book of
prayers of the fifteenth century, bound in canvas, and worked with
'tapisserie de soie au petit point,' or as I should call it, tent-, or
tapestry-, stitch. It represents the Crucifixion and a saint, but M.
Bouchot remarks of it, 'La composition est grossière et les figures des
plus rudimentaires.'
The other instance occurs on a sixteenth-century manuscript, 'Les Gestes
de Blanche de Castille.' It is bound in black velvet, much worn, and
ornamented with appliqué embroideries in coloured silks, in shading
stitch, probably done on fine linen. The design on the upper cover shows
the author of the book, Etienne le Blanc, in the left-hand corner,
kneeling at the feet of Louise de Savoie, Regent of France, to whom the
book is dedicated. Near her is a fountain into which an antlered stag is
jumping, pursued by three hounds.
The Dutch, in the numerous excellent styles of bindings they have so
freely imitated from other nations, have not failed to include the
English embroidered books. In the South Kensington Museum is a charming
specimen of their work on satin, finely worked in coloured silks with
small masses of pearls in a rather too elaborate design of flowers and
animals. In the British Museum, besides other instances of Dutch
needlework, there is a very handsome volume of the _Acta Synodalis
Nationalis Dordrechti habitæ_, printed at Leyden in 1620, and bound in
crimson velvet. It has the royal coat-of-arms of England within the
Garter, with crest, supporters, and motto, all worked in various kinds
of gold thread; in the corners are sprays of roses and thistles
alternately, and above and below the coat are the crowned initials J. R.,
all worked in gold thread.
_Hints for Modern Broiderers._
Many book-covers have been embroidered during the last few years in
England by ladies working on their own account, or by some of the
students at one or other of the many excellent centres now existing for
the study and practice of the fascinating art of bookbinding.
Although a large proportion of modern work of this kind has been only
copied from older work, I see no reason why original designs should not
be freely and successfully invented. But I think that the ancient work
may be advantageously studied and carefully copied as far as choice of
threads and manner of working them goes. The workers of our old
embroidered books were people of great skill and large experience, and
from a long and careful examination of much of their work, I am
impressed with the conviction that they worked on definite principles.
If I allude briefly to some of these I may perhaps give intending
workwomen a hint or two as to some minor points which may assist their
work to show to the best advantage when _in situ_, and also insure, as
far as possible, that it will not be unduly damaged during the operation
of fixing to the back and boards of the book for which it is intended.
(1) Before the operation of fixing on the book is begun, it will always
be found best to mount the embroidered work on a backing of strong fine
linen. The stage at which it is best to add the linen will vary
according to the kind of work it is to strengthen. In the case of canvas
it will only be necessary to tack it on quite at the last; with velvet a
backing from the first may be used with advantage, all the stitches
being taken through both materials. As to satin, it will be best to do
all the very fine work, if any, in coloured silks first, and when the
stronger work in cord or braid comes on, the linen may be then added.
The value of the linen is twofold: it strengthens the entire work and
protects the finer material from the paste with which it is ultimately
fastened on to the book.
(2) A book must be sewn, the edges cut, and the boards fixed, before the
sizes of the sides and back can be accurately measured. These sizes must
be given to the designer most carefully, as a very small difference
between the real size and the embroidered size will entirely spoil the
finished effect, however fine the details of the workmanship may be.
When the exact size is known the designer will fill the spaces at his
disposal according to his taste and skill, making his sketches on paper,
and, when these are complete, transferring the outlines to the material
on which the work is to be done. If the designer is also to be the
worker it is artistically right, and he, or she, will put in the proper
stitches as the work progresses; but if another person is to execute the
needlework it will be best that very detailed description of all the
threads and stitches that are to be used should be given, as every
designer of an embroidery design intends it to be carried out in a
particular way, and unless this way is followed, the design does not
have full justice done to it.
(3) In the working itself the greatest care must be taken, especially as
to two points: the first and perhaps the more important, because the
more difficult to remedy, is that the needlework on the _under_ side of
the material must be as small and flat as possible, and all knots,
lumps, or irregularities here, if they cannot be avoided or safely cut
off, had best be brought to the upper side and worked over. With satin,
especially, attention to this point is most necessary, as unless the
plain spaces lie quite flat, which they are very apt not to do, the
proper appearance of the finished work is spoiled, and however good it
may be in all other points, can never be considered first-rate.
The second pitfall to avoid is any pulling or straining of the material
during the operation of embroidering it. Success in avoiding this
depends primarily upon the various threads being drawn at each stitch to
the proper tension, so that it may just have the proper pull to keep it
in its place and no more--and although a stitch too loose is bad enough,
one too tight is infinitely worse.
(4) The preponderance of appliqué work, and raised work in metal guimps
on embroidered books, especially on velvet, is easily accounted for when
the principles they illustrate are understood, the truth being that in
both these operations the maximum of surface effect is produced with the
minimum of under work.
If the piece appliqué is not very large, a series of small stitches
along all the edges is generally enough to keep it firm; such edge
stitches are in most cases afterwards masked by a gold cord laid over
them. If, however, the appliqué piece is large it will be necessary to
fix it as well with some supplementary stitches through the central
portions. These stitches will generally be so managed that they fit in
with, or under, some of the ornamental work; at the same time, if
necessary, they may be symmetrically arranged so as to become themselves
of a decorative character.
_The Embroidered Books here illustrated._
For the purposes of illustration I have chosen the most typical
specimens possible from such collections as I have had access to. The
chief collections in England are, undoubtedly, those at the British
Museum and at the Bodleian Library at Oxford. The collection at the
British Museum is especially rich, the earlier and finer specimens
almost invariably having formed part of the old Royal Library of England
given by George II. to the Museum in 1757.
The more recent specimens have been acquired either by purchase or
donation, but as there has been no special intention at any time to
collect these bindings, it is remarkable that such a number of them
exist in our National Library. The Bodleian is rich in a few fine
specimens only, and most of these are exhibited. My illustrations are
made from photographs from the books themselves in all instances; to
show them properly, however, all should be in colour, and it should not
be forgotten that an embroidered book represented only by a half-tint
print, however good, inevitably loses its greatest charm. However, if
the half-tint is unworthy, the colour prints are distinctly flattering.
I think that almost any old book well reproduced in colour gains in
appearance, and in two of my colour plates I have actually restored some
parts. In the beautiful fourteenth century psalter, supposed to have
been worked by Anne de Felbrigge, I have made the colours purposely much
clearer than they are at present. If it were possible to clean this
volume, the colours would show very nearly as they do on my plate; but,
actually, they are all much darker and more indistinct, being in fact
overlaid with the accumulated dirt of centuries. The other instance
where I have added more than at present exists on the original is the
green velvet book which belonged to Queen Elizabeth, and forms my
frontispiece. Here I have put in the missing pearls, each of which has
left its little impression on the velvet, so nothing is added for which
there is not the fullest authority. Moreover, some of the gold cord is
gone on each of the three volumes of this work, but I have put it in its
proper place for the purpose of illustration. The other plates are not
in any way materially altered, but it may be allowed that the colour
plates show their originals at their best.
The books illustrated are selected out of a large number, and I think it
may fairly be considered that the most favourable typical specimens now
left in England are shown. It may well be that a few finer instances
than I have been able to find may still be discovered hidden away in
private collections, but it is now so rarely that a really fine ancient
embroidered book comes into the sale-room, that we may safely conclude
the best of them are already safely housed in one or other of our great
national collections. Where not otherwise stated, the specimens
described are in the British Museum.
In the following detailed descriptions I have used the words 'sides' and
'boards' to mean the same thing, and the measurements refer to the size
of the boards themselves, not including the back. These measurements
must be taken as approximate only, as from wear and other causes the
actual sizes would only be truly given by the use of small fractions of
inches.