TAPESTRY

A study of textiles is often subdivided into tapestry, carpet-weaving, mechanical weaving of fabrics of a lighter weight, and embroidery. These headings are useful to observe in our researches in the mediÆval processes connected with the loom and the needle.

Tapestry, as we popularly think of it, in great rectangular wall-hangings with rather florid figures from Scriptural scenes, commonly dates from the sixteenth century or later, so that it is out of our scope to study its manufacture on an extensive scale. But there are earlier tapestries, much more restrained in design, and more interesting and frequently more beautiful. Of these earlier works there is less profusion, for the examples are rare and precious, and seldom come into the market nowadays. The later looms were of course more prolific as the technical facilities increased. But a study of the craft as it began gives one all that is necessary for a proper appreciation of the art of tapestry weaving.

The earliest European work with which we have to concern ourselves is the Bayeux tapestry. Although this is really needlework, it is usually treated as tapestry, and there seems to be no special reason for departing from the custom. Some authorities state that the Bayeux tapestry was made by the Empress Matilda, daughter of Henry I., while others consider it the achievement of Queen Matilda, the wife of William the Conqueror. She is recorded to have sat quietly awaiting her lord's coming while she embroidered this quaint souvenir of his prowess in conquest. A veritable mediÆval Penelope, it is claimed that she directed her ladies in this work, which is thoroughly Saxon in feeling and costuming. It is undoubtedly the most interesting remaining piece of needlework of the eleventh century, and it would be delightful if one could believe the legend of its construction. Its attribution to Queen Matilda is very generally doubted by those who have devoted much thought to the subject. Mr. Frank Rede Fowke gives it as his opinion, based on a number of arguments too long to quote in this place, that the tapestry was not made by Queen Matilda, but was ordered by Bishop Odo as an ornament for the nave of Bayeux Cathedral, and was executed by Norman craftsmen in that city. Dr. Rock also favours the theory that it was worked by order of Bishop Odo. Odo was a brother of William the Conqueror and might easily have been interested in preserving so important a record of the Battle of Hastings. Dr. Rock states that the tradition that Queen Matilda executed the tapestry did not arise at all until 1730.

The work is on linen, executed in worsteds. Fowke gives the length as two hundred and thirty feet, while it is only nineteen inches wide,—a long narrow strip of embroidery, in many colours on a cream white ground. In all, there are six hundred and twenty-three figures, besides two hundred horses and dogs, five hundred and five animals, thirty-seven buildings, forty-one ships, forty-nine trees, making in all the astonishing number of one thousand five hundred and twelve objects!

The colours are in varying shades of blue, green, red and yellow worsted. The colours are used as a child employs crayons; just as they come to hand. When a needleful of one thread was used up, the next was taken, apparently quite irrespective of the colour or shade. Thus, a green horse will be seen standing on red legs, and a red horse will sport a blue stocking! Mr. J. L. Hayes believes that these varicoloured animals are planned purposely: that two legs of a green horse are rendered in red on the further side, to indicate perspective, the same principle accounting for two blue legs on a yellow horse!

The buildings are drawn in a very primitive way, without consideration for size or proportion. The solid part of the embroidery is couched on, while much of the work is only rendered in outline. But the spirited little figures are full of action, and suggest those in the celebrated Utrecht Psalter. Sometimes one figure will be as high as the whole width of the material, while again, the people will be tiny. In the scene representing the burial of Edward the Confessor, in Westminster Abbey, the roof of the church is several inches lower than the bier which is borne on the shoulders of men nearly as tall as the tower!

The naÏve treatment of details is delicious. Harold, when about to embark, steps with bare legs into the tide: the water is laid out in the form of a hill of waves, in order to indicate that it gets deeper later on. It might serve as an illustration of the Red Sea humping up for the benefit of the Israelites! The curious little stunted figure with a bald head, in the group of the conference of messengers, would appear to be an abortive attempt to portray a person at some distance—he is drawn much smaller than the others to suggest that he is quite out of hearing! This seems to have been the only attempt at rendering the sense of perspective. Then comes a mysterious little lady in a kind of shrine, to whom a clerk is making curious advances; to the casual observer it would appear that the gentleman is patting her on the cheek, but we are informed by Thierry that this represents an embroideress, and that the clerk is in the act of ordering the Bayeux Tapestry itself! Conjecture is swamped concerning the real intention of this group, and no certain diagnosis has ever been pronounced! The Countess of Wilton sees in this group "a female in a sort of porch, with a clergyman in the act of pronouncing a benediction upon her!" Every one to his taste.

A little farther on there is another unexplained figure: that of a man with his feet crossed, swinging joyously on a rope from the top of a tower.

Soon after the Crowning of Harold, may be seen a crowd of people gazing at an astronomic phenomenon which has been described by an old chronicler as a "hairy star." It is recorded as "a blazing starre" such as "never appears but as a prognostic of afterclaps," and again, as "dreadful to be seen, with bloudie haires, and all over rough and shagged at the top." Another author complacently explains that comets "were made to the end that the ethereal regions might not be more void of monsters than the ocean is of whales and other great thieving fish!" A very literal interpretation of this "hairy star" has been here embroidered, carefully fitted out with cog-wheels and all the paraphernalia of a conventional mediÆval comet.

In the scenes dealing with the preparation of the army and the arrangement of their food, there occurs the lassooing of an ox; the amount of action concentrated in this group is really wonderful. The ox, springing clear of the ground, with all his legs gathered up under him, turns his horned head, which is set on an unduly long neck, for the purpose of inspecting his pursuers. No better origin for the ancient tradition of the cow who jumped over the moon could be adduced. And what shall we say of the acrobatic antics of Leofwine and Gyrth when meeting their deaths in battle? These warriors are turning elaborate handsprings in their last moments, while horses are represented as performing such somersaults that they are practically inverted. In the border of this part of the tapestry, soldiers are seen stripping off the coats of mail from the dead warriors on the battle-field; this they do by turning the tunic inside out and pulling it off at the head, and the resulting attitudes of the victims are quaint and realistic in the extreme! The border has been appropriately described as "a layer of dead men." In the tenth and eleventh centuries one of the regular petitions in the Litany was "From the fury of the Normans Good Lord Deliver us."

The Bayeux Tapestry was designated, in 1746, as "the noblest monument in the world relating to our old English History." It has passed through most trying vicissitudes, having been used in war time as a canvas covering to a transport wagon, among other experiences. For centuries this precious treasure was neglected and not understood. In his "Tour" M. Ducarel states: "The priests... to whom we addressed ourselves for a sight of this remarkable piece of antiquity, knew nothing of it; the circumstance only of its being annually hung up in their church led them to understand what we wanted, no person then knowing that the object of our inquiries any ways related to the Conqueror." This was in the nineteenth century.

Anglo-Saxon women spent much of their time in embroidering. Edith, Queen of Edward the Confessor, was quite noted for her needlework, which was sometimes used to decorate the state robes of the king.

Formerly there existed at Ely Cathedral a work very like the Bayeux Tapestry, recording the deeds of the heroic Brihtnoth, the East Saxon, who was slain in 991, fighting the Danish forces. His wife rendered his history in needlework, and presented it to Ely. Unhappily there are no remains of this interesting monument now existing. The nearest thing to the Bayeux Tapestry in general texture and style is perhaps a twelfth century work in the Cathedral at Gerona, a little over four yards square, which is worked in crewels on linen, and is ornamented with scenes of an Oriental and primitive character, taken mainly from the story of Genesis. These tapestries come under the head of needlework. The tapestries made on looms proceed upon a different principle, and are woven instead of embroidered.

Two kinds of looms were used under varying conditions in different places; high warp looms, or Haute Lisse, and low warp looms, known as Basse Lisse.

The general method of making tapestries on a high warp loom has been much the same for many centuries. The warp is stretched vertically in two sets, every other thread being first forward and then back in the setting. M. Lacordaire, late Director of the Gobelins, writes as follows: "The workman takes a spindle filled with worsted or silk... he stops off the weft thread and fastens it to the warp, to the left of the space to be occupied by the colour he has in hand; then, by passing his left hand between the back and the front threads, he separates those that are to be covered with colours; with his right hand, having passed it through the same threads, he reaches to the left side, for the spindle which he brings back to the right; his left hand, then, seizing hold of the warp, brings the back threads to the front, while the right hand thrusts the spindle back to the point whence it started." When a new colour is to be introduced, the artist takes a new shuttle. He fastens his thread on the wrong side of the tapestry (the side on which he works) and repeats the process just described on the strings stretched up and down before him, like harp strings; the work is commenced at the lower part, and worked upwards, so that, when this strictly "hand weaving" is accomplished, it may be crowded down into place by means of a kind of ivory comb, so adjusted that the teeth fit between the warp threads. In tapestry weaving, the warp could be of any inferior but strong thread, for, by the nature of the work, only the woof was visible, the warp being quite hidden and incorporated into the texture under the close lying stitches which met and dove-tailed over it.

The worker on a low loom does not see the right side of the work at all, unless he lifts the loom, which is a difficult undertaking. On a high loom, it is only necessary for the worker to go around to the front in order to see exactly what he is doing. The design is put below the work, however, in a low loom, and the work is thus practically traced as the tapestry proceeds.

On account of the limitations of the human arm in reaching, the low warp tapestry requires more seams than does that made on the "haute lisse" loom, the pieces being individually smaller. One whole division of the workmen in tapestry establishments used to be known as the "fine drawers," whose whole duty was to join the different pieces together, and also to repair worn tapestries, inserting new stitches for restorations. Tapestry repairing was a necessary craft; at Rheims some tapestries were restored by Jacquemire de Bergeres; these hangings had been "much damaged by dogs, rats, mice, and other beasts." It is not stated where they had been hung!

High warp looms have been known in Europe certainly since the ninth century. There is an order extant, from the Bishop of Auxerre, who died in 840, for some "carpets for his church." In 890 the monks of Saumur were manufacturing tapestries. Beautiful textiles had been used to ornament the Church of St. Denis as early as 630, but there is no proof that these were actually tapestries. There is a legend that in 732 a tapestry establishment existed in the district between Tours and Poitiers. At Beauvais, too, the weavers of arras were settled at the time of the Norman ravages.

King Dagobert was a mediÆval patron of arts in France. He had the walls of St. Denis (which he built) hung with rich tapestries set with pearls and wrought with gold. At the monastery of St. Florent, at Saumur in 985, the monks wove tapestries, using floral and animal forms in their designs. At Poitiers there was quite a flourishing factory as early as 1025. Tapestry was probably first made in France, to any considerable extent, then, in the ninth century. The historian of the monastery of Saumur tells us an interesting incident in connection with the works there. The Abbot of St. Florent had placed a magnificent order for "curtains, canopies, hangings, bench covers, and other ornaments,... and he caused to be, made two pieces of tapestry of large size and admirable quality, representing elephants." While these were about to be commenced, the aforesaid abbot was called away on a journey. The ecclesiastic who remained issued a command that the tapestries should be made with a woof different from that which they habitually used. "Well," said they, "in the absence of the good abbot we will not discontinue our employment; but as you thwart us, we shall make quite a different kind of fabric." So they deliberately set to work to make square carpets with silver lions on a red ground, with a red and white border of various animals! Abbot William was fortunately pleased with the result, and used lions interchangeably with elephants thereafter in his decorations.

At the ninth century tapestry manufactory in Poitiers, an amusing correspondence took place between the Count of Poitou and an Italian bishop, in 1025. Poitou was at that time noted for its fine breed of mules. The Italian bishop wrote to ask the count to send him one mule and one tapestry,—as he expressed it, "both equally marvellous." The count replied with spirit: "I cannot send you what you ask, because for a mule to merit the epithet marvellous, he would have to have horns, or three tails, or five legs, and this I should not be able to find. I shall have to content myself with sending you the best that I can procure!"

In 992 the Abbey of Croyland, in England, owned "two large foot cloths woven with lions, to be laid before the high altar on great festivals, and two shorter ones trailed all over with flowers, for the feast days of the Apostles."

Under Church auspices in the twelfth century, the tapestry industry rose to its most splendid perfection. When the secular looms were started, the original beauty of the work was retained for a considerable time; in the tenth century German craftsmen worked as individuals, independently of Guilds or organizations. In the thirteenth century the work was in a flourishing condition in France, where both looms were in use. The upright loom is still used at the Gobelin factory.

As an adjunct to the stained glass windows in churches, there never was a texture more harmonious than good mediÆval tapestry. In 1260 the best tapestries in France were made by the Church exclusively; in 1461 King RenÉ of Anjou bequeathed a magnificent tapestry in twenty-seven subjects representing the Apocalypse, to "the church of Monsieur St. Maurice," at Angers.

Although tapestry was made in larger quantities during the Renaissance, the mediÆval designs are better adapted to the material.

The royal chambers of the Kings of England were hung with tapestry, and it was the designated duty of the Chamberlain to see to such adornment. In 1294 there is mention of a special artist in tapestry, who lived near Winchester; his name was Sewald, and he was further known as "le tapenyr," which, according to M. G. Thomson, signifies tapestrier.

One is led to believe that tapestries were used as church adornments before they were introduced into dwellings; for it was said, when Queen Eleanor of Castile had her bedroom hung with tapestries, that "it was like a church." At Westminster, a writer of 1631 alludes to the "cloths of Arras which adorn the choir."

Sets of tapestries to hang entire apartments were known as "Hallings." Among the tapestries which belonged to Charles V. was one "worked with towers, fallow bucks and does, to put over the King's boat." Among early recorded tapestries are those mentioned in the inventory of Philip the Bold, in 1404, while that of Philip the Good tells of his specimens, in 1420. Nothing can well be imagined more charming than the description of a tapestried chamber in 1418; the room being finished in white was decorated with paroquets and damsels playing harps. This work was accomplished for the Duchess of Bavaria by the tapestry maker, Jean of Florence.

Flanders tapestry was famous in the twelfth and fourteenth centuries. Arras particularly was the town celebrated for the beauty of its work. This famous manufactory was founded prior to 1350, as there is mention of work of that period. Before the town became known as Arras, while it still retained its original name, Nomenticum, the weavers were famous who worked there. In 282 A. D. the woven cloaks of Nomenticum were spoken of by Flavius Vopiscus.

The earliest record of genuine Arras tapestry occurs in an order from the Countess of Artois in 1313, when she directs her receiver "de faire faire six tapis À Arras." Among the craftsmen at Arras in 1389 was a Saracen, named Jehan de CroisÈtes, and in 1378 there was a worker by the name of Huwart Wallois. Several of its workmen emigrated to Lille, in the fifteenth century, among them one Simon Lamoury and another, Jehan de Rausart. In 1419 the Council Chamber of Ypres was ornamented with splendid tapestries by FranÇois de Wechter, who designed them, and had them executed by Arras workmen. The Van Eycks and Memlinc also designed tapestries, and there is no doubt that the art would have continued to show a more consistent regard for the demands of the material if Raphael had never executed his brilliant cartoons. The effort to be Raphaelesque ruined the effect of many a noble piece of technique, after that.

In 1302 a body of ten craftsmen formed a Corporation in Paris. The names of several workmen at Lille have been handed down to us. In 1318 Jehan Orghet is recorded, and in 1368, Willaume, a high-warp worker. Penalties for false work were extreme. One of the best known workers in France was Bataille, who was closely followed by one Dourdain.

A famous Arras tapestry was made in 1386 by a weaver of the name of Michel Bernard. It measured over two hundred and eighty-five square yards, and represented the battle of Roosebecke. At this time a tapestry worker lived, named Jehanne Aghehe, one of the first attested women's names in connection with this art. In the Treasury of the church of Douai there is mention of three cushions made of high loom tapestry presented in 1386 by "la demoiselle Englise." It is not known who this young lady may have been. France and Flanders made the most desirable tapestries in the fourteenth century. In Italy the art had little vogue until the fifteenth.

Very little tapestry was made in Spain in the Middle Ages,—the earliest well known maker was named Gutierrez, in the time of Philip IV. The picture by Velasquez, known as "The Weavers," represents the interior of his manufactory.

A table cloth in mediÆval times was called a "carpett:" these were often very ornate, and it is useful to know that their use was not for floor covering, for the inventories often mention "carpetts" worked with pearls and silver tissue, which would have been singularly inappropriate. The Arabs introduced the art of carpet weaving into Spain. An Oriental, Edrisi, writing in the twelfth century, says that such carpets were made at that time in Alicante, as could not be produced elsewhere, owing to certain qualities in both air and water which greatly benefited the wool used in their manufacture.

In the Travels of Jean Lagrange, the author says that all carpets of Smyrna and Caramania are woven by women. As soon as a girl can hold a shuttle, they stretch cords between two trees, to make a warp, and then they give her all colours of wools, and leave her to her own devices. They tell her, "It is for you to make your own dowry." Then, according to the inborn art instinct of the child, she begins her carpet. Naturally, traditions and association with others engaged in the same pursuit assist in the scheme and arrangement; usually the carpet is not finished until she is old enough to marry. "Then," continues Lagrange, "two masters, two purchasers, present themselves; the one carries off a carpet, and the other a wife."

Edward II.. of England owned a tapestry probably of English make, described as "a green hanging of wool wove with figures of Kings and Earls upon it." There was a roistering Britisher called John le Tappistere, who was complained of by certain people near Oxford, as having seized Master John of Shoreditch, and assaulted and imprisoned him, confiscating his goods and charging him fifty pounds for ransom. It is not stated what the gentleman from Shoreditch had done thus to bring down upon him the wrath of John the weaver!

English weavers had rather the reputation of being fighters: in 1340 one George le Tapicier murdered John le Dextre of Leicester; while Giles de la Hyde also slew Thomas Tapicier in 1385. Possibly these rows occurred on account of a practical infringement upon the manufacturing rights of others as set down in the rules of the Company. There was a woman in Finch Lane who produced tapestry, with a cotton back, "after the manner of the works of Arras:" this was considered a dishonest business, and the work was ordered to be burnt.

Roger van der Weyden designed a set of tapestries representing the History of Herkinbald, the stern uncle who, with his own hand, beheaded his nephew for wronging a young woman. Upon his death-bed, Herkinbald refused to confess this act as a sin, claiming the murder to have been justifiable and a positive virtue. Apparently the Higher Powers were on his side, too, for, when the priest refused the Eucharist to the impertinent Herkinbald, it is related that the Host descended by a miracle and entered the lips of the dying man. A dramatic story, of which van der Weyden made the most, in designing his wonderfully decorative tapestries. The originals were lost, but similar copies remain.

As early as 1441 tapestries were executed in Oudenardes; usually these were composed of green foliage, and known as "verdures." In time the names "verdure" and "Oudenarde" became interchangeably associated with this class of tapestry. They represented woodland and hunting scenes, and were also called "Tapestry verde," and are alluded to by Chaucer.

Curious symbolic subjects were often used: for instance, for a set of hangings for a banquet hall, what could be more whimsically appropriate than the representation of "Dinner," giving a feast to "Good Company," while "Banquet" and "Maladies" attack the guests! This scene is followed by the arrest of "Souper" and "Banquet" by "Experience," who condemns them both to die for their cruel treatment of the Feasters!

There is an old poem written by a monk of Chester, named Bradshaw, in which a large hall decorated with tapestries is described as follows:

"All herbs and flowers, fair and sweet,
Were strawed in halls, and layd under their feet;
Cloths of gold, and arras were hanged on the wall,
Depainted with pictures and stories manifold
Well wrought and craftely."

A set of tapestries was made by some of the monks of Troyes, who worked upon the high loom, displaying scenes from the Life of the Magdalen. This task was evidently not devoid of the lighter elements, for in the bill, the good brothers made charge for such wine as they drank "when they consulted together in regard to the life of the Saint in question!"

Among the most interesting tapestries are those representing scenes from the Wars of Troy, in South Kensington. They are crowded with detail, and in this respect exhibit most satisfactorily the beauties of the craft, which is enhanced by small intricacies, and rendered less impressive when treated in broad masses of unrelieved woven colour. Another magnificent set, bearing similar characteristics, is the History of Clovis at Rheims.

There is a fascinating set of English tapestries representing the Seasons, at Hatfield: these were probably woven at Barcheston. The detail of minute animal and vegetable forms—the flora and fauna, as it were in worsted—are unique for their conscientious finish. They almost amount to catalogues of plants and beasts. The one which displays Summer is a herbal and a Noah's Ark turned loose about a full-sized Classical Deity, who presides in the centre of the composition.

Among English makers of tapestries was a workman named John Bakes, who was paid the magnificent sum of twelve pence a day, while in an entry in another document he is said to have received only fourpence daily.

The Hunting Tapestries belonging to the Duke of Devonshire are as perfect specimens as any that exist of the best period of the art. They are represented in colour in W. G. Thomson's admirable work on Tapestries, and are thus available to most readers in some public collection.

Another splendidly decorative specimen is at Hampton Court, being a series of the Seven Deadly Sins. They measure about twenty-five by thirteen feet each, and are worked in heavy wools and silks.

As technical facility developed, certain weaknesses began to show themselves. Tapestry weavers had their favourite figures, which, to save themselves trouble, they would often substitute for others in the original design.

Arras tapestries were no longer made in the sixteenth century, and the best work of that time was accomplished in the Netherlands. About 1540 Brussels probably stood at the head of the list of cities famous for the production of these costly textiles. The Raphael tapestries were made there, by Peter van Aelst, under the order of Pope Leo X. They were executed in the space of four years, being finished in 1519, only a year before Raphael's death.

In the sixteenth century the Brussels workers began to make certain "short cuts" not quite legitimate in an art of the highest standing, such as touching up the faces with liquid dyes, and using the same to enhance the effect after the work was finished. A law was passed that this must not be done on any tapestry worth more than twelve pence a yard. In spite of this trickery, the Netherlandish tapestries led all others in popularity in that century.

It was almost invariable, especially in Flemish work, to treat Scriptural subjects as dressed in the costume of the period in which the tapestry happened to be made. When one sees the Prodigal Son attired in a delightful Flemish costume of a well-appointed dandy, and Adam presented to God the Father, both being clothed in Netherlandish garments suitable for Burgomasters of the sixteenth century, then we can believe that the following description, quoted by the Countess of Wilton, is hardly overdrawn. "In a corner of the apartment stood a bed, the tapestry of which was enwrought with gaudy colours, representing Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.... Adam was presenting our first mother with a large yellow apple gathered from a tree which scarcely reached his knee.... To the left of Eve appeared a church, and a dark robed gentleman holding something in his hand which looked like a pin cushion, but doubtless was intended for a book; he seemed pointing to the holy edifice, as if reminding them that they were not yet married! On the ground lay the rib, out of which Eve, who stood a head higher than Adam, had been formed: both of them were very respectably clothed in the ancient Saxon costume; even the angel wore breeches, which, being blue, contrasted well with his flaming red wings."

In France, the leading tapestry works were at Tours in the early sixteenth century. A Flemish weaver, Jean Duval, started the work there in 1540. Until 1552 he and his three sons laboured together with great results, and they left a large number of craftsmen to follow in their footsteps.

In Italy the art had almost died out in the early sixteenth century, but revived in full and florid force under the Raphaelesque influence.

King RenÉ of Anjou collected tapestries so assiduously that the care and repairing of them occupied the whole time of a staff of workers, who were employed steadily, living in the palace, and sleeping at night in the various apartments in which the hangings were especially costly.

Queen Jeanne, the mother of Henri IV., was a skilled worker in tapestry. To quote Miss Freer in the Life of Jeanne d'Albret, "During the hours which the queen allowed herself for relaxation, she worked tapestry and discoursed with some one of the learned men whom she protected." This queen was of an active mental calibre and one to whom physical repose was most repugnant. She was a regular and pious attendant at church, but sitting still was torture to her, and listening to the droning sermons put her to sleep. So, with a courage to be admired, Jeanne "demanded permission from the Synod to work tapestry during the sermon. This request was granted; from thenceforth Queen Jeanne, bending decorously over her tapestry frame, and busy with her needle, gave due attention."

The Chateau of Blois, during the reign of Louis XII. and Ann of Brittany, is described as being regally appointed with tapestries: "Those which were hung in the apartments of the king and queen," says the chronicler, "were all full of gold; and the tapestries and embroideries of cloth of gold and of silk had others beneath them ornamented with personages and histories as those were above. Indeed, there was so great a number of rich tapestries, velvet carpets, and bed coverings, of gold and silk, that there was not a chamber, hall, or wardrobe, that was not full."

In an inventory of the Princess of Burgundy there occurs this curious description of a tapestry: "The three tapestries of the Church Militant, wrought in gold, whereon may be seen represented God Almighty seated in majesty, and around him many cardinals, and below him many princes who present to him a church."

Household luxury in England is indicated by a quaint writer in 1586: "In noblemen's houses," he says, "it is not rare to see abundance of arras, rich hangings, of tapestrie... Turkie wood, pewter, brasse, and fine linen.... In times past the costly furniture stayed there, whereas now it is discarded yet lower, even unto the inferior artificers, and many farmers... have for the most part learned to garnish their beds with tapestries and hangings, and their tables with carpetts and fine napery."

Henry VIII. was devoted to tapestry collecting, also. An agent who was buying for him in the Netherlands in 1538, wrote to the king: "I have made a stay in my hands of two hundred ells of goodly tapestry; there hath not been brought this twenty year eny so good for the price." Henry VIII. had in his large collection many subjects, among them such characteristic pieces as: "ten peeces of the rich story of King David" (in which Bathsheba doubtless played an important part), "seven peeces of the Stories of Ladies," "A peece with a man and woman and a flagon," "A peece of verdure... having poppinjays at the nether corners," "One peece of Susannah," "Six fine new tapestries of the History of Helena and Paris."

A set of six "verdure" tapestries was owned by Cardinal Wolsey, which "served for the hanging of Durham Hall of inferior days." The hangings in a hall in Chester are described as depicting "Adam, Noe, and his Shyppe." In 1563 a monk of Canterbury was mentioned as a tapestry weaver. At York, Norwich, and other cities, were also to be found "Arras Workers" during the sixteenth century.

There was an amusing law suit in 1598, which was brought by a gentleman, Charles Lister, against one Mrs. Bridges, for accepting from him, on the understanding of an engagement in marriage, a suite of tapestries for her apartment. He sued for the return of his gifts!

Among the State Papers of James I., there is a letter in which the King remarks "Sir Francis Crane desires to know if my baby will have him to-hasten the making of that suite of tapestry that he commanded him."

In Florence, the art flourished under the Medici. In 1546 a regular Academy of instruction in tapestry weaving was set up, under the direction of Flemish masters. All the leading artists of the Golden Age furnished designs which, though frequently inappropriate for being rendered in textile, were fine pictures, at any rate. In Venice, too, there were work shops, but the influence of Italy was Flemish in every case so far as technical instruction was concerned. The most celebrated artists of the Renaissance made cartoons: Raphael, Giulio Romano, Jouvenet, Le Brun, and numerous others, in various countries.

The Gobelins work in Paris was inaugurated in the fifteenth century under Jean Gobelins, a native of Rheims. His son, Philibert, and later, many descendants persevered steadily at the work; the art prospered under Francis I., the whole force of tapestry weavers being brought together at Fontainebleau, and under Henry II., the direction of the whole was given to the celebrated artist Philibert Delorme. In 1630 the Gobelins was fully established as a larger plant, and has never made another move. The work has increased ever since those days, on much the same general lines. Celebrated French artists have designed tapestries: Watteau, Boucher, and others were interpreted by the brilliant manager whose signature appears on the works, Cozette, who was manager from 1736 until 1792. With this technical perfection came the death of the art of tapestry: the pictures might as well have been painted on canvas, and all feeling for the material was lost, so that the naÏve charm of the original workers ceased to be a part of the production.

Among European collections now visible, the best is in Madrid, where over six hundred tapestries may be seen, chiefly Flemish, of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The collection at the Pitti Palace in Florence comprises six hundred, while in the Vatican are preserved the original Raphael tapestries. South Kensington Museum, too, is rich in interesting examples of various schools. It is a very helpful collection to students, especially, although not so large as some others.

In 1663, "two well intended statutes" were introduced dealing with curiously opposite matters: one was to encourage linen and tapestry manufacture in England, and the other was "for regulating the packing of herrings!"

The famous English Mortlake tapestry manufactory was not established until the seventeenth century, and that is rather late for us. The progress of craftsmanship has been steady, especially at the Gobelins in France. Many other centres of industry developed, however, in various countries. The study of modern tapestry is a branch by itself with which we are unable to concern ourselves now.