THE EXHIBITION OF NEEDLEWORK AT SOUTH KENSINGTON.
THE most ancient of the Arts, that of Needlework, has a specially human interest, which comes out strongly in the large and precious collection at the South Kensington Museum. No woven fabric has a place there, nor work of any fingers that have had life in them within this century. Every object is either beautiful, or curious, or both ; all are distinctly individual, whether their associations be actually historical, or only with the unknown, but, through them, decipherable persons who wrought these rich, quaint, marvellous things. To walk through the long lines of cases, and round each, is to have a series of pictures called up before one's mind, almost as plainly as Galuppi's own " Cantata" called them up to Mr. Browning ; is to have whispering, ghostly company with one ; dusky forms from the Far East, who wrought with the silver and gold and the colours which glow in a seemingly immortal brightness and barbaric pomp before our eyes ; stately dames of the days of chivalry, royal women, who stitched down many a heart-ache as they sat with their bower maidens upon " cloth of estate " ; cloistered nuns who made marvellous " braveries " for the beautifying of the world they had left ; the patient women of an inarticulate time, who
"Bonded o'er their 'broidered. flowers, With spirit far away,"
according to our utterly modern notions of a period in which, perhaps, people were never bored ; the housewifely women of a century ago, whose samples and worked landscapes and maps are so quaintly characteristic. Before one takes in the intrinsic value and the diversified beauty of the collection, its meaning as a many- paged volume of human life comes out, in a way unlike that of any other art, perhaps because, as far as Europe is concerned, it speaks so exclusively of women—Eastern needlework is per- formed only by men—and conveys so forcibly the idea of slow, concentrated labour, narrow even in its perfection, monotonous, and with results disproportionate to the toil of their production, even in its most picturesque and romantic aspect. Looking at the names attached to some of the oldest, richest, most curious specimens, one under- stands what a vast relief there must have been in needle- work for the women who wrought them,—to the isolation of their greatness and their grief. Here are embroideries whose every leaf must have consumed many hours in the doing, which represent years in their completeness, quite fresh and fair from the fingers that have been dust for centuries ; and speaking with a pathos different from that of any other art that lives when the artist is dead. A. band of linen, covered with minute embroidery in silks, and arabesque-inscriptions, which once formed part of an altar-cloth in the Abbaye de -St. Martin de Canegou, was worked by Countess Ghilsa, the wife of Guifred de Lesdagne, in the eleventh century ; perhaps it was an ex veto for the safety of her lord among Saracen scimitars. A yet more ancient piece of needlework in two parts is beside it, the red silk ground perfect, the gold embroidery, of heraldic imperial lions, in the upper, the silk and gold in which Saint Martin. shares his cloak with a beggar, in the lower, but little frayed ; and this dates from the ninth century, and is said to be a portion of the cushion-cover upon which was laid the finger of St. Luke which Charlemagne presented to the Archbishop Magnus, of Sens. The ecclesiastical ornaments, especially those of the fourteenth century, are of extraordinary beauty, and one of the most ancient, the covering of a cloister desk, given by Charles V. to the Monastery of Yuste, looks as though the needle had been laid down and it had been taken out of its frame yesterday. The filigree work in gold and pearls, in the centre, with a border of the same, the mystic golden bird with outspread wings, and the Holy Trinity embroidered on its breast, are curiously beautiful. The sombre gorgeousness of the Spanish style strikes one, in every kind of specimen and of every date ; and one notes the general stiffness of the English, and, in the samples of emblematical needlework, its silliness ; while the Italian is throughout beautiful in form, elegant in design, harmonious in colour, and exquisite in execution. The embroidery on linen, of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, es- pecially some fine mantles, worked in red silk, with massive fringes ; the napkins, so delicate of texture, so dainty of design ; the table- cloths, which bring Paul Veronese before one; the Royal " napery," with its broidered crowns and eagles,—these are perhaps more inter- esting than the larger and more gorgeous specimens of colour and de- sign. There is a handkerchief of fine linen, embroidered in black silk, presented to a bride, over which one lingers ; for the sober design is full of grace, and the countless stitches are like the finest strokes
of etching. There is a work-box, with panels filled in with needle- work done by Mary Stuart, a quaint, crowded, intricate device, representing Jacob's dream ; and a cane basket, lined with blue silk covered with embroidery, which she worked for holding her child's baby-linen. The marvellous lace of the edges is laden with still more marvellous lines of embroidery in faded blue, and the same may be traced in the chair-cover and cushion, which are also her work. Close by, there is a dark little frame, enclosing a piece of thick faded satin, with some very stiff and stark animals, in relief, of cunning needlework. It is a fragment of the hangings of Queen Mary's bed at Fotheringay Castle, hardly lively to con- template, and tending to bad dreams. Queen Elizabeth is amply represented, and very suggestively in one instance. In a long glass case, spread out upon dark velvet, are eighteen dainty miniature articles of apparel, some of the finest linen, others— two tiny caps, and a soft little fairy pair of shoes, with festoons of minute stitching—of white satin. They are so familiar, and yet so strange, those baby-garments, unspotted white through cen- turies, since the Lady Elizabeth made them, dexterous needle- woman as she was, for the child for whom her sister was vainly hoping. There is a whole human tragedy in the neat white scraps which never clothed a child of Mary Tudor and Philip of Spain, and a chapter of speculation concerning the thoughts of the shrewd girl who worked at them for the heir whose birth would have cut her out of the succession. The white satin shoes, embroidered in coloured silks and silver, which Elizabeth wears in one of her stiff, staring portraits, are here, and an extraordinary cap to match, a pocket-book, and a toilet-cover of silk, inlaid with silver wire, very ingenious, and seemingly fragile, but in perfect preservation. And close by are the embroidered trappings of the horse which carried James I. to his coronation, a most curious miniature in needlework, like the finest painting, of King Charles I., and the embroidered star from his mantle of the Order of the Garter which the King gave to Sir Basil Woodd upon the scaffold. A piece of patchwork in gold and silver brocades by Aune Fleetwood, Crom- well's eldest daughter, hangs beside the star ; and a pair of Charles's gloves, whose embroidery (English) shows very poor in comparison with that which adorns the gloves of Cardinal Richelieu and those of the Abbot of Montmajour. Au extraordinarily elaborate and hideous piece of needlework, forming a cushion, on a white satin ground (No. 196), is supposed to represent King James I. and Prince Henry ; bat on inspection we think this must be a mistake, or that at least there is a combination of subjects, and the allegorical flattery is addressed to James in his favourite char- acter of the English Solomon. The pillars are not the pillars of Whitehall, and the camels couchant, with palm trees dispersed about, and attendants carrying baskets of foreign fruit on their heads, while a gorgeous female in a long train approaches the throne, are remarkably like a notion of the period concerning the visit of the Queen of Sheba to King Solomon. That London Bridge forms a feature of the performance is no impediment to the correctness of this view, which is strengthened by the richly dressed figure of the boy lead- ing a monkey in a gorgeous jacket by a chain. King Solomon and King James were alike fond of monkeys, and no doubt the
chain and the jacket belong to all time. All the allegorical " pieces " of that time are ugly and barbarous, especially those executed in honour of the marriage of Charles II. and Katharine of Braganza. One wonders, looking at the beautiful productions of the preceding centuries, how such corruption crept into the art of needlework iu England? How did the sense of beauty, fitness, pro- portion, everything poetical and elevated, die out ? The execution in all these silly monstrosities is exceedingly beautiful, the animals in particular wonderfully done ; there is a squirrel on one of the boxes to whom one longs to give a nut, and a rabbit which one waits to see pop into its burrow ; but they are all the same size, and the human figures are simply grotesque. What a contrast to the Italian pictures, in fine embroidery of the sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth centuries (Class 19), which are marvellously beautiful. One in particular, the " Repose of the Holy Family," embroidered in silk, dating from the seventeenth century, is almost incredible as a piece of needlework, so exquisite is the shading, so varied the ex- pressions, so profound the meaning. The landscape is full of beauty, but the chief point which strikes an observer is the Virgin's face. The Holy Child is sitting in her lap, her arms clasp him loosely, and he is absorbed in playing with a green branch held towards hint by St. Joseph, who is equally bent on amusing him. But the mother is heedless of them both for the moment, her bead is bent to listen to the whispering angels, who are close to her, her eyes gaze upon the celestial company in the plain beneath. This is the most beautiful of this rare class, in which there is one
decided error of classification. No. 690, a beautifully executed picture-embroidery, is described as "Saint Iguace." This cannot be correct ; the figure wears a crown of thorns, and has the stigmata, and the face is that of a woman ; most probably it is
Saint Catherine of Siena. A band of hand-work tapestry, described as of " great archwological interest," is said to represent Charles IX. and his Queen paying a visit of congratulation to a lady on her confinement, as godfather and godmother to the child. There may be indisputable authority for the statement, but the production looks uncommonly like the birth, exposure, and finding of Moses in the bulrushes, with the dwellings and costumes of Egypt, ' accommodated,' after the fashion of the Arts, to the French architecture and Court costume of the day. The evenness, accuracy, and colouring of this production are unrivalled ; but with all their elaboration, these great ' pieces,' like the splendid wall-hangings, the magnificent screens, the stiff and stately por- tieres, have not the same human interest as the smaller objects, which are full of individuality. The cyphered gauntlets, the alms' purses; the "books of hours," with their worn leaves and embroidered pearl-sewn covers ; the ride-poche, which might have been a gift from Queen Mab and her handmaidens, and which hung beside the bed of Louis Qnatorze,—(did Laporte find billets-doux in it, and read them ?) — the black satin apron worked in linen piqué and white thread for Marie Antoinette ; the lace counterpane and valence wrought by Sarah Jennings, which gives us an entirely unexpected view of the formidable Duchess of Marlborough ; the curtains of " crewel work," or worsted embroidery on twilled cotton, done by Amy Robsart; the sampler into which poor Katharine of Braganza stitched the words, "The 21st of May was our marriage daye," and so makes herself real and pathetic after the dullest of oblivion ; the wedding bead-dress of a girl who worked its gold and silver legends on yellow silk that glistens still, 200 years ago, in Alsace ; these, and other things too numerous to mention here, make this exhibition fascinating even to those to whom the technical mysteries of needlework are unintelligible. The techni- calities are also of great interest ; and the variety of design, stitch, and materials are admirably demonstrated by the method of arrangement and classification. Embroidery in Crewels (Class 4) is entirely English, extends from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century, and is represented by several fine specimens, in ad- dition to the Amy Robsart curtains. It is difficult to believe that such beautiful foliage and flowers, such rich and fantastic knots and scrolls, are merely worsted worked on coarse linen, or twilled cotton, or canvas. Crewels are still the most highly esteemed kind of worsted, but the best linen for embroidery is the Russian. A very curious specimen is a coat in needlework, con- sisting of four pieces of embroidery in crewels on twilled cotton. Among the larger objects, a splendid tapestry screen is con- spicuous, and though it would hardly be pleasant to have to put Judith and Holofernes between oneself and a draught, or Susanna and the Elders between oneself and the fire, in a drawing-room, the groups look very noble, on their gold- coloured ground in the wide space of the Art Museum. Among the grandest specimens are several table-covers of Italian, French, Spanish, and Chinese work. If it had been possible to display these on a flat surface, their elaborate and gorgeous beauty would have been more thoroughly appreciated ; seen from the per- pendicular, the corners, the borders, and the unity of the designs are somewhat impaired. Looking at them, and at the hangings, all rich with bewildering details of beauty, one ponders on the accretions of meaning which the stately old dwellings of the olden time gathered, generation after generation, when upholstery had so little and needlework had so much to do with their " plenish- ing," when the work of a whole succession of lives clothed the walls, or decked the tables, or sheltered the sleepers ; when the grand-daughter wore the gown the grandmother had brocaded in her girlhood, and set her tale of stitches in the tapestry that had been the companion of the grandmother's girlhood, had marked by its progress the absence of the lover or the husband in the wars of the days of chivalry, and had been the select confidant of the joys and sorrows of many a finished life. The women's part in the old time has lasted the longest, after all, for the swords are rust, but here is a knight's scarf, worn indeed, and stained, but the cunning work on it, the silver and the gold, the fine glittering fringe, the dainty devices in many-coloured silks, are as perfect as when, we may imagine, if we please, the lady of his love tied it over his armour, with all the pangs and prayers that bad gone with the stitches, and watched for its last flutter as the mail-clad war-horse bore him out of her sight. This scarf is a true shred of old romance; with its tufted spears, its tattle-axes, its maces, in golden threads, its cuirass and gauntlets, its plumed helm and baldric, its pennons, furled and flaunting, its bay wreath and crown of i,nmortelles, its wreathed symbolic " S " for " Souvenance," its exquisite tufts of purple and yellow open- eyed pansies, making of it a poem in the universal and immortal tongue.
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