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I N SEARCHING for the beginning of needlework in England, the first authentic date revealed relating directly to this subject is 709, when the Bishop of Sherborne writes of the skill Englishwomen had attained at that time in the use of the needle. Preserved in various museums are some examples of Anglo-Saxon embroidery of uncertain date, that are known to have been made before the Bishop of Sherborne’s time. Mention should also be made of the wonderful Bayeux Tapestry. This ancient piece is 227 feet long and twenty inches wide, and is of great historical interest, in that it illustrates events of English history from the accession of Edward the Confessor to the English defeat at Hastings by the Normans in 1066. There is some doubt as to whether this tapestry, which has the characteristic of typical appliqué—namely, the absence of shading—is actually of English workmanship, but it is unquestionably of Anglo-Saxon origin. It was first hung in Bayeux Cathedral in 1476.
It is a generally accepted fact that appliqué and embroidery are closely related and of about equal age, although relatively few examples of the former are preserved in collections of needlework. One of the oldest authentic bits of appliqué is at Stonyhurst College. It represents a knight clad in full armour, mounted on a spirited galloping horse. The horse is covered with an elaborately wrought blanket and has an imposing ornament on his head. The knight wears a headdress of design similar to that of the horse and, with arm uplifted and sword drawn, appears about to attack a foe. This work is well done, and the pose of both man and horse shows spirit. It is said to have been made during the thirteenth century. Preserved to us from this same period is the tattered fragment of a coat worn by Edward, the Black Prince, and which now hangs over his tomb in Canterbury Cathedral. With it are the helmet and gauntlets he wore and the shield he carried. The coat is of a red and blue velvet, now sadly faded, applied to a calico background and closely quilted. It is too elaborate to have been made to wear under his armour, and was probably worn during state functions where armour was not required, although it was then customary to wear thickly padded and quilted coats and hoods in order to ease the weight of the heavy and unyielding coats of mail.
Much of the best needlework in England at this early period was for the church. Neither labour nor expense was spared to make the magnificent decorations used in the old cathedrals. Aside from the linens, silks, and velvets used in this construction, much gold and silver bullion was wrought into the elaborate altar hangings, altar fronts, and ecclesiastical vestments. In their ornamentation applied work was freely used, especially on the large hangings draped over the altar.
It was during the earliest period that the Latin name opus consutum was commonly used to designate patchwork. Chain stitch also was much used on early English embroidery; to such an extent that it is now of great service as an identification mark to fix the dates of medieval needlework. Chain stitch was dignified by the Latin name opus anglicanum . Only the most elaborate and richest of embroideries have been preserved; the reason being that much of the work was done with silver and gold threads which were in reality fine wires of these precious metals. Being exceedingly costly, they were given unusual care, many being kept with the royal plate and jewels. One specimen made in 905 by Aelfled, the queen of Edward, the Elder, is now treasured in Durham Cathedral. It is described as being “of almost solid gold thread, so exquisitely embroidered that it resembles a fine illuminated manuscript,” and is indescribably beautiful. In many instances the fabrics of these old embroideries have partly fallen away, leaving only frail fragments of the original material held together by the lasting threads of gold and silver.
The great amount of precious metals used in making the richest garments and hangings sometimes made them objects to be desired by avaricious invaders. In an inventory of the contents of Cardinal Wolsey’s great palace at Hampton Court there are mentioned, among many other rare specimens of needlework of that period, “230 bed hangings of English embroidery.” None of them is now in existence, and it is supposed that they were torn apart in order to fill the coffers of some vandal who preferred the metal in them to their beauty as hangings.
Among the sumptuous furnishings belonging to the Tudor period, applied work held a prominent place. Vast spaces of cold palace walls were covered by great wall hangings, archways were screened, and every bed was enclosed with curtains made of stoutly woven material, usually more or less ornamented. This was before the advent of French tapestry, which later supplanted the English appliqué wall draperies. The Tudor period was also the time when great rivalry in dress existed. “The esquire endeavoured to outshine the knight, the knight the baron, the baron the earl, the earl the king himself, in the richness of his apparel.”
In direct contrast to the long inventories of beautiful and valuable clothing, bedcovers, and hangings of the rich, are the meagre details relating to the life and household effects of the landless English peasant. In all probability he copied as far as he was able some of the utilities and comforts used by his superiors. If he possessed a cover for his bed, it was doubtless made of the cheapest woven material obtainable. No doubt the pieced or patched quilt contributed materially to his comfort. In “Arts and Crafts in the Middle Ages,” Julia de Wolf Addison describes a child’s bed quilt included in an inventory of furniture at the Priory in Durham in 1446, “which was embroidered in the four corners with the Evangelistic symbols.” In the “Squier of Lowe Degree,” a fifteenth-century romance, there is allusion to a bed of which the head sheet is described as embroidered “with diamonds and rubies bright.”
It was during the gorgeous reign of Henry VIII that the finest specimens of combined embroidery and patchwork, now preserved in various museums, were made. It was really patch upon patch, for before the motives were applied to the foundation they were elaborately embroidered in intricate designs; and after being applied, they had their edges couched with gold and silver cord and ornate embroidery stitches. Mrs. Lowes relates in “Old Lace and Needlework” that, during the time of Henry VIII, embroidery, as distinct from garment making, appeared; and every article of wearing apparel became an object worthy of decoration. “Much fine stitching was put into the fine white undergarments of that time, and the overdresses of both men and women became stiff with gold thread and jewels. Much use was made of slashing and quilting, the point of junction being dotted with pearls and precious stones. Noble ladies wore dresses heavily and richly embroidered with gold, and the train was so weighty that train bearers were pressed into service. In the old paintings the horses belonging to kings and nobles wear trappings of heavily embroidered gold. Even the hounds, which are frequently represented with their masters, have collars massively decorated with gold bullion.”
Mary, Queen of Scots, was devoted to the needle and was expert in its use. It is said that while in France she learned lace making and embroidery. Many wall hangings, bed draperies, bedcovers, and house linens are the work of her skilful fingers, or were made under her personal direction. A number of examples of her work are now owned by the Duke of Devonshire. It is said also that many of the French costumes and laces of her wardrobe were appropriated by Queen Elizabeth, who had little sympathy for the unfortunate queen. As a solace during long days of loneliness, Queen Mary found consolation in her needle, as have many women of lower degree before and since her unhappy time. She stands forth as the most expert and indefatigable of royal needleworkers.
Hardwick Hall is intimately associated with Queen Mary’s life, and is rich in relics of her industry. In one room named for her there are bed curtains and a quilt said to be her own work. Extracts from old letters relating to her conduct during captivity show how devoted she was to her needlework. An attendant, on being asked how the queen passed her time, wrote, “that all day she wrought with her nydil and that the diversity of the colours made the work seem less tedious and that she contynued so long at it that veray payn made hir to give over.” This shows that fatigue alone made her desist from her beloved work.
There is a very interesting fragment of a bed hanging at Hardwick Hall said to have been made by Queen Mary. It is of applied patchwork, with cream-coloured medallions curiously ornamented by means of designs singed with a hot iron upon the light-coloured velvet. The singed birds, flowers, and butterflies are outlined with black silk thread. The worked medallions are applied to a foundation of green velvet, ornamented between and around them with yellow silk cord. This is only one of a number of examples of curious and beautiful patchwork still in existence and attributed to the Tudor period.
Queen Elizabeth herself was not devoted to needlework, but judging from the accounts of the gorgeous costumes which she delighted to wear, she was one of its greatest patronesses. It is said that at her death she left one of the most extensive wardrobes of history: in it were more than a thousand dresses, which were most voluminous in style and elaborately trimmed with bullion, pearls, and jewels. Before the precious stones were applied, her garments were solidly covered with gold and silver quilting and embroidery, which made them so heavy as to be a noticeable burden even for this proud and ambitious queen. In Berkeley Castle, as prized mementoes of Queen Elizabeth, are five white linen cushions beautifully embroidered with silver threads and cherry-coloured silk. Also with them is the quilt, a wonderful piece of needlework, that matches the hangings of the bed wherein she slept.
The magnificence of Queen Elizabeth’s reign gave great impetus to all kinds of needlework. France at that time led in the development of fine arts, and furnished many of the skilled workmen employed by the nobility solely as embroiderers. There seemed to be no limit to the ambitions of these workers, and the gorgeous results of their labours were beyond anything attempted after them.
To those who wish to study the work of the Tudor period, Hardwick Hall is recommended as the place where the best specimens have been preserved. To Elizabeth, daughter of John Hardwick, born in 1520, and so poor that her marriage portion as the bride of the Earl of Shrewsbury was only thirty pounds, credit is given for the richness of this collection. She was a woman of great ability in the management of her estates, became very wealthy, and gave employment to many people. Included among her dependents were many needleworkers who plied their trade under rigorous administration. Elizabeth of Shrewsbury was a hard mistress, but not above doing an occasional bit of needlework herself, for some pieces bearing her initials and done with remarkable skill are preserved in the collection. She, as much as any Englishwoman, fostered and developed applied patchwork along the ambitious line of pictorial needlework.
In Hardwick Hall are several hangings of pictorial needlework that are very interesting. One of black velvet has a picture of a lady strongly resembling Queen Elizabeth. She carries a book in her hand and at her feet reclines a turbaned Turk. In the background is an ecclesiastical hanging which is embroidered to represent a cathedral window. The realistic effect of the whole picture is gained by the use of coloured silks cut in correct proportions and applied to the velvet foundation; very little embroidery entering into the main composition. Another hanging, also of black velvet, has an even more ambitious design. It is described by M. Jourdain in “The History of English Secular Embroidery” as follows: “The ornamentation on the black velvet is with appliqué in coloured silks consisting of figures under arches. In the centre is ‘Lucrecia,’ on the left ‘Chastite,’ and on the right ‘Liberalitas.’ The oval panel on the right contains a shield bearing the arms of Hardwick.” At each end of the hanging are fluted Ionic columns, and a decorated frieze is carried across the top. The figures have grace and beauty; the drapery of their robes falls in natural folds; and altogether it is a remarkable picture to have been made with patches.
That this fine collection of medieval needlework is preserved for the admiration of people to-day is due to the faithful execution of the Countess of Shrewsbury’s will, in which she left all her household furnishings, entailed as heirlooms, to always remain in her House of Hardwick.
In the interesting Hardwick collection are pieces of beautiful needlework known to have been used by Mary, Queen of Scots, during the years she spent as a prisoner at Tutbury. Her rooms there, furnished in regal splendour, are still kept just as she arranged them. The Earl of Shrewsbury was her custodian, and his wife, the countess, often sat and sewed with the unfortunate queen, both making pastime of their needlework.
During the Middle Ages appliqué was in universal use, and not confined merely to wall hangings, quilts, and bed draperies. It was used to ornament all kinds of wearing apparel, including caps, gloves, and shoes. Special designs were made for upholstery, but because of the hard wear imposed upon stools and chairs but few specimens of this work have been preserved.
Quilting also came into vogue in the making of bedspreads, of which great numbers were required during the winter nights in the poorly heated bedrooms. The quilts intended for service were made of substantial, well-wearing material. None of these strictly utilitarian quilts is left, but they were certainly plentiful. The old chroniclers give us a glimpse of what the women of these days cherished by telling us that in 1540 Katherine Howard, afterward wife of Henry VIII, was presented with twenty-three quilts of Sarsenet, closely quilted, from the Royal Wardrobe.
Tradition says that, during the reign of Henry VIII, the much used and popular “black work” or “Spanish work” was introduced into England by his Spanish wife, Catherine of Aragon. It has been found that this work did not originate in Spain but was taken there probably by the Moors or by the Crusaders, for it is known to have been perfected at a very remote period in both Persia and China. The following interesting description of black work is from Mrs. Lowes’ “Chats on Old Lace and Needlework”:
“The work itself was a marvel of neatness, precision, and elegant design, but the result cannot be said to have been commensurate with the labour of its production. More frequently the design was of scrollwork, worked with a fine black silk back stitching or chain stitch. Round and round the stitches go, following each other closely. Bunches of grapes are frequently worked solidly, and even the popular peascod is worked in outline stitch, and often the petit point period lace stitches are copied, and roses and birds worked separately and afterward stitched to the design.” There are many examples of this famous “Spanish work” in the South Kensington Museum in London. Quilts, hangings, coats, caps, jackets, smocks, are all to be seen, some with a couched thread of gold and silver following the lines of the scrolls. This is said to be the Spanish stitch referred to in the old list of stitches, and very likely may be so, as the style and manner are certainly not English; and we know that Catherine of Aragon brought wonders of Spanish stitchery with her, and she herself was devoted to the use of the needle. The story of how, when called before Cardinal Wolsey and Campeggio, to answer to King Henry’s accusations, she had a skein of embroidery silk round her neck, is well known.
“The black silk outline stitchery on linen lasted well through the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Very little of it is seen outside the museums, as, not being strikingly beautiful or attractive, it has been destroyed. Another phase of the same stitchery was working cotton and linen garments, hangings and quilts in a kind of quilted pattern with yellow silk. The finest materials were used, the padding being placed bit by bit into its place. The quilting work was made in tiny panels, illustrating shields and other heraldic devices, and had a surface as fine as carved ivory. When, as in the case of one sample at South Kensington, the quilt is additionally embroidered with fine floss silk flowers, the effect is very lovely.”
One interesting feature of “black work” and similar flat embroideries was their constant use in decorating furnishings for the bedroom. It was peculiarly well adapted for quilts, as its rather smooth surface admirably resisted wear.
Fashions in needlework changed, but not with the same rapidity as in clothing. Gradually ideas and customs from other countries crept into England and new influences were felt. An established trade with the Orient brought Eastern products to her markets, and oriental designs in needlework became popular. About this time “crewel” was much in vogue. This was embroidery done with coloured woollen threads and was a step backward in the art. Some of this “crewel” work, done in the seventeenth century, is described by M. Jourdain in “English Secular Embroidery”: “These hangings, bed curtains, quilts, and valances are of linen or a mixture of cotton and linen, and one type is embroidered with bold, freely designed patterns in worsted. They are worked almost always in dull blues and greens mixed with more vivid greens and some browns, but rarely any other colouring.”
A very curious custom of these days was the use of “mourning beds,” with black hangings, coverlets, and even sheets. As these funereal articles of furniture were quite expensive, it was a friendly custom to lend these mourning beds to families in time of affliction. In 1644 Mrs. Eure wrote to Sir Ralph Verney: “Sweet Nephew, I am now overrun with miserys and troubles, but the greatest misfortune that could happen to me was the death of the gallantest man (her husband) that I ever knew.” Whereupon Sir Ralph, full of sympathy, “offers her the loan of the great black bed and hangings from Claydon.”
Interesting indeed are descriptions of wonderful old quilts that are now guarded with zealous care in English museums. One, an original and striking design, is closely quilted all over in small diamonds. Upon it is embroidered an orange tree in full leaf and loaded with fruit. This tree, together with the fancy pot in which it is planted, covers practically the entire quilt. In the lower corners a gentleman is shown picking oranges and a lady in a patient attitude is waiting to receive them, the figures of both being scarcely taller than the flower pot. The whole design is made up of gayly coloured silks evidently worked in after the quilting was done. Mention is also made of an elaborate quilt said to be the work of Queen Anne, which is preserved at Madresfield Court. Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, in giving an order for house furnishings for her “wild, unmerciful house” about 1720, asks for “a vast number of feather beds, some filled with swansdown, and a vast number of quilts.”
Mrs. Delany, who lived from 1700 to 1788, and left a large correspondence relating to needlework, which was later edited by Lady Llanover, was a most prolific worker with her needle as well as a profuse letter writer. She was often quoted as an authority and given credit for much originality in her designs. A quilt that she made is described as follows: “Of white linen worked in flowers, the size of nature, delineated with the finest coloured silks in running stitch, which is made use of in the same way as by a pen etching on paper; the outline was drawn with pencil. Each flower is different, and evidently done at the moment from the original.” Another quilt of Mrs. Delany’s was made upon a foundation of nankeen. This was unique in that no colours were used besides the dull yellow of the background. Applied designs of leaves tied together with ribbons, all cut from white linen and stitched to the nankeen with white thread, made a quilt no wise resembling the silken ones of earlier periods. This quilt may be termed a forerunner of the vast array of pieced and patched washable quilts belonging to the nineteenth century.
The embroidering of quilts followed the process of quilting, which afforded the firm foundation essential for heavy and elaborate designs. There were many quilts made of white linen quilted with yellow silk thread, and afterward embroidered very tastefully with yellow silk floss. Terry, in the history of his “Voyage to the East Indies,” made about the middle of the seventeenth century, says: “The natives show very much ingenuity in their manufactures, also in making excellent quilts of their stained cloth, or of fresh-coloured taffeta lined with their prints, or of their satin with taffeta, betwixt which they put cotton wool, and work them together with silk.”
Among many articles in a list of Eastern products, which Charles I, in 1631, permitted to be brought to England, were “quilts of China embroidered in Gold.” There is a possibility that these quilts were appreciated quite as much for the precious metal used in the embroidery as for the beauty of design and workmanship. It was but a short time after this that women began to realize how much gold and silver had gone into all forms of needlework. They looked upon rare and beautiful embroidery with greedy eyes, and a deplorable fashion sprang up, known in France as “parfilage” and in England as “drizzling.” This was nothing more or less than ripping up, stitch by stitch, the magnificent old hangings, quilts, and even church vestments, to secure gold and silver thread. Lady Mary Coke, writing from the Austrian Court, says: “All the ladies who do not play cards pick gold. It is the most general fashion I ever saw, and they all carry their bags containing the necessary tools in their pockets. They even begged sword knots, epaulettes, and galons that they might add more of the precious threads to the spool on which they wound the ravelled bullion, which they sold.” To the appreciative collector this seems wanton sacrilege.
John Locke, 1632-1704, a very famous man of Charles II’s time, and one of the greatest philosophers and ardent champions of civil and religious rights which England ever produced, mentioned quilts in his “Thoughts Concerning Education.” In telling of the correct sort of beds for children he writes as follows: “Let his Bed be hard, and rather Quilts than Feathers. Hard Lodging strengthens the Parts, whereas being buryed every Night in Feathers melts and dissolves the Body.... Besides, he that is used to hard Lodging at Home will not miss his Sleep (where he has most Need of it) in his travels Abroad for want of his soft Bed, and his Pillows laid in Order.”
Pepys, a contemporary of Locke, in his incomparable and delicious Diary, remarks: “Home to my poor wife, who works all day like a horse, at the making of her hanging for our chamber and bed,” thus telling us that he was following the fashion of the day in having wall, window, and bed draperies alike. It is plain, too, by his frequent “and so to bed,” that his place of sleep and rest was one of comfort in his house.
A quilt depending solely upon the stitching used in quilting, whether it be of the simple running stitch, the back stitch, or the chain stitch, is not particularly ornamental. However, when viewed at close range, the effect is a shadowy design in low relief that has a distinctive but modest beauty when well done. Early in the eighteenth century a liking for this fashion prevailed, and was put to a variety of uses. Frequently there was no interlining between the right and wrong sides. At Canons Ashby there are now preserved some handsome quilted curtains of this type, belonging to Sir Alfred Dryden, Baronet.
During the Middle Ages instruction in the use of the needle was considered a necessary part of the English girl’s education. By the seventeenth century “working fine works with the needle” was considered of equal importance with singing, dancing, and French in the accomplishments of a lady of quality. In the eighteenth century much the same sentiment prevailed, and Lady Montagu is quoted as saying: “It is as scandalous for a woman not to know how to use a needle as for a man not to know how to use a sword.”
The Spectator of that time sarcastically tells of two sisters highly educated in domestic arts who spend so much time making cushions and “sets of hangings” that they had never learned to read and write! A sober-minded old lady, grieved by frivolous nieces, begs the Spectator “to take the laudable mystery of embroidery into your serious consideration,” for, says she, “I have two nieces, who so often run gadding abroad that I do not know when to have them. Those hours which, in this age, are thrown away in dress, visits, and the like, were employed in my time in writing out receipts, or working beds, chairs, and hangings for the family. For my part I have plied the needle these fifty years, and by my good-will would never have it out of my hand. It grieves my heart to see a couple of proud, idle flirts sipping the tea for a whole afternoon in a room hung round with the industry of their great-grandmothers.” Another old lady of the eighteenth century, Miss Hutton, proudly makes the following statement of the results of years of close application to the needle: “I have quilted counterpanes and chest covers in fine white linen, in various patterns of my own invention. I have made patchwork beyond calculation.”
Emblems and motifs were great favourites with the quilt workers of “ye olden times” and together with mottoes were worked into many pieces of embroidery. The following mottoes were copied from an old quilt made in the seventeenth century: “Covet not to wax riche through deceit,” “He that has lest witte is most poore,” “It is better to want riches than witte,” “A covetous man cannot be riche.”
The needle and its products have always been held in great esteem in England, and many of the old writers refer to needlework with much respect. In 1640 John Taylor, sometimes called the “Water Poet,” published a collection of essays, etc., called “The Needle’s Excellency,” which was very popular in its day and ran through twelve editions. In it is a long poem entitled, “The Prayse of the Needle.” The following are the opening lines:
It is interesting to read what Elizabeth Glaister, an Englishwoman, writes of quilts in England:
“Perhaps no piece of secular needlework gave our ancestors more satisfaction, both in the making and when made, as the quilt or bed coverlet. We have seen a good many specimens of them, both of the real quilted counterpanes, in which several thicknesses of material were stitched together into a solid covering, and the lighter silken or linen coverlets ornamented with all sorts of embroidery. Cradle quilts also were favourite pieces of needlework and figure in inventories of Henry VIII’s time.
“The real quilts were very handsome and the amount of labour bestowed on them was enormous. The seventeenth century was a great time for them, and the work of this period is generally very good. The quilting of some of them is made by sewing several strands of thick cotton between the fine linen of the surface and the lining. When one line was completed the cotton was laid down again next to it, and another line formed.
“A sort of shell pattern was a favourite for quilting. When a sufficient space was covered with the ground pattern, flowers or other ornaments were embroidered on this excellent foundation. Perhaps the best results as a work of art were attained when both quilting and flowers were done in bright yellow silk; the effect of this colour on a white ground being always particularly good. A handsome quilt may be worked with a darned background. It is done most easily on huckaback towelling of rather loose weave, running the needle under the raised threads for the ground.
“A very effective quilt in quite a different style is made in applied work on unbleached cotton sheeting. A pattern of yellow fruit or flower with leaves is cut out in coloured serges sewn on with crewels in buttonhole stitch; stems, veins, and buds being also worked in crewels, and the ground slightly darned in dim yellow crewel. It is elaborate, but a very pleasant and repaying piece of work.
“Many beautiful old quilts are made of silk and satin embroidered in pure silks or in gold and silver twist. Most of the best specimens are from France and Italy, where from the arrangement of the houses the beds have continued to be more en evidence than has been the case in England for the last two centuries. Many also are of Indian origin; the ground of these is sometimes of fine soft silk and sometimes of thick muslin, over which the pattern is worked in silk. Others, though of Indian workmanship, show a European influence, of which the most curious are those worked at Goa, under Portuguese dominion in the seventeenth century.”