Though these pictures bear the name of Stuart, many of them are undoubtedly Tudor. The earliest (if the evidence of costume is of any value) must have been worked in Elizabeth's time, but as the authenticated specimens date only from the reign of James I. they are known as Stuart. The only pictures worked in the early days of this art were worked in petit-point, the tiny stitch which imitated tapestry, and very quaint are the specimens left to us. The favourite themes were entirely pagan. Gods and goddesses disported themselves among leafy trees. Cupid lightly shot his arrows, the woods were inhabited by an unknown flora and fauna which seem all its own. The very dogs seem to be a different species, having more likeness to the china dogs of the spotted or liver and white variety which the Staffordshire potters made at the beginning of our own century. Innumerable little castles were perched in perfectly inaccessible positions on towering crags, and the laws of perspective were generally conspicuous by their absence. The sun in those days was a very visible body, and apparently delightful to work, no Stuart picture being without one; the rolling clouds oftentimes are confused with the convoluted body of the caterpillar, little difference being made in the design. The birds were of very brilliant plumage, and the world was evidently a very gay and sportive place when these fair ladies spent their leisure over this embroidery! These early pictures seldom show the religious feeling that afterwards slowly worked its way through the Stuart days (though, perhaps, disguised under royalistic symbolism), until in the reign of Queen Anne it became more or less a fashion, in pictorial needle-craft. It burst out afresh in the early nineteenth century and became an absolute obsession of the early Victorian Berlin-wool workers with most disastrous results to both design and work.

Until the end of Charles I.'s reign needlework pictures must have been scarce, as we find one enumerated in the inventory of his "Closet of Rarities." It is possible that the many pictures which represent Charles I. were worked by loyalist ladies, after his execution and during the Commonwealth. In many of these pictures his own hair is said to have been used, thereby becoming relics of him who was known as "the Martyred King." On a very finely worked portrait of Charles I., at South Kensington Museum, King Charles's hair is worked amongst the silken threads.

Throughout this time, no matter what the subjects, most of which were notably striking scenes from Scripture history, such as "Esther and King Ahasuerus," "Solomon and the Queen of Sheba," "The Judgment of Solomon" (a very favourite subject), and other scenes of Old Testament history, all the kings were Charles I. and all the Queens Henrietta Maria. One and all wore early Stuart costumes. Even Pharaoh's daughter wore the handsome dress of the day, with Point lace falling collar and real pearls round her neck. It is a fashion to jeer at this anachronism; but may it not perhaps be that we take these pictures too literally, and deny the workers their feelings of passionate devotion to the lost cause. Doubtless they worked their loyalty to their beloved monarch into these pretty and pleasing fancies, just as it is said that the fashion of "finger-bowls" was introduced later so that the loyal gentlemen of the day might drink to the King "over the water." I see no cause to deny intelligence to these dear dead women, who were capable of exquisite needlecraft and fine design, and whose devotion was shown in many instances by giving up jewels, houses, and lands for the King!

The fashion of "stump" or stamp work appears to have been derived from Italy. Italian needlework of this time abounds with it, and, it must be admitted, of a superior design, and style to that which was known here as "stump" work. Until the eighteenth century English work was more or less archaic in every branch. Personally, I see no more absurdity in the queer doll-like figures than in contemporary wood-carving. It was a period of tentative effort, and was, of course, beneath criticism. English Art has ever been an effort until its one bright burst of genius in the eighteenth century, while the continental nations appear to have breathed artistic perception with life itself.

The prototype of our stump work pictures, the Italian raised work, are gracious, graceful figures perfectly proportioned, and set in lovely elegant arabesques, with no exaggeration of style or period. Some specimens of this work must have been brought from Italy, through France, and the English workers quickly adopted and adapted them to their own heavier intelligence. Some of the little figures are certainly very grotesque. Frequently the tiny little hands are larger than the heads, but the stitchery is exquisite.

No time seems to have been too long to have been spent in perfecting the petals of a rose, the loose wing of a butterfly, or to make a realistic curtain in fine Point lace stitches to hang from the King's canopy. Some of the King's dresses are said to have been made of tiny treasured pieces of his garments. There is no doubt that much devoted sentiment was worked into these little figures, and these touches of nature add a pathetic interest to them.

In the illustration of "King Solomon receiving the Queen of Sheba" from the South Kensington Collection Solomon is obviously King Charles I., while the Queen of Sheba is equally recognisable as Queen Henrietta Maria. The picture is perhaps the finest in the Kensington Collection, the colours being fresh and the work intact. The little faces are worked over a padding of soft frayed silk or wool, the features being drawn in fine back-stitch. Natural hair is worked on the King's and Queen's heads, and the crowns are real gold thread set with pearls. The canopy is worked solidly in silk and gold thread, and from it hang loose curtains in old brocade, worked over and over with gold and silken thread.

The King's mantle and that of the Lord Chamberlain are worked in Point lace stitches, afterwards applied to the bodies and hanging loosely. The Queen's dress is brocade, worked over with gold and silver, while strings of real pearls decorate the necks and wrists of the ladies, and real white lace of the Venetian variety trims the neck and sleeves of these fairy people. The Stuart castle we see perched up among the trees and touching the sun's beams is more like an English farmhouse than Whitehall. Yet either this or Windsor Castle is always supposed to be represented.

The British lion and the leopard, again, make the identity of these little people more certain. The quaint little trees bear most disproportionate fruits, the acorn and pears being about the same size, but all beautifully worked in Point-lace stitches over wooden moulds. The hound and the hare, the butterfly and the grub, and the strange birds make up one of the most typical Stuart pictures.

The next illustration shows another development of picture-making. Here the grounding is of white satin, as in the previous illustration, but the figures are worked on canvas separately, in fine petit-point stitch, afterwards being cut away and placed on the white satin ground with a few silk stitches and the whole outlined with a fine black silk cord. The subject is "The Finding of Moses," and is as full of anachronisms as the last, only that here again Pharaoh's daughter is worked in memory of Queen Henrietta Maria, and the tiny boy in the corner is Charles II., and Moses the infant Duke of York. The four-winged cherubs are the guardian angels who are watching over the lost fortunes of the Stuart family, and the rose of England and the lilies of France which form the border are emblematical of the royal lineage of their lost King's family. The hound and hare still chase each other gaily round the border, and in the picture the hare is seen emerging, like the Stuarts, from exile and obscurity.

Sufficient has perhaps been said to cause those who possibly may have misunderstood these pictures to give them another glance, and allow imagination to carry them back to the times of the exiled Royal Family and their brave adherents, whose women allowed not their memories to slumber nor their labours to flag. These pictures must have been made during the Commonwealth and the reign of Charles II. In no case, to my knowledge, has King Charles II. been depicted in stitchery, nor yet Catherine of Braganza. James II. is equally ignored, and with him their mission seemed to have been accomplished. Possibly the people had had by this time sufficient of the Stuarts, and the memory of King Charles the martyr had waxed dim. Certain it is that with James II. Stuart needlework pictures suddenly ceased.

Stump work Symbols.

The symbolism of the various animals, birds, insects, and flowers which are, apparently without rhyme or reason, placed in one great disarray in the Stuart pictures is said to have been heraldic and symbolic. The sunbeam coming from a cloud, the white falchion, and the chained hart are heraldic devices belonging to Edward III.

The buck and the strawberry, which are so often seen, belong to the Frazer Clan of Scotland, and may have been worked by ladies who were kith and kin of this clan.

The unicorn was the device of James I. and the siren or mermaid of Lady Frazer, who is said to have worked her own golden hair in the heart of a Tudor rose on a book cover for James I.

The hart was also a device of Richard II. and the "broom pod" of the Plantagenets. The caterpillar and butterfly were specially badges of Charles I., while the oak-tree and acorn were invariably worked into every picture in memory of Charles II.'s escape in an oak tree.