Samplers and Tapestry Embroideries Part 1

Samplers and Tapestry Embroideries.

by Marcus Bourne Huish.

English Needlework

Amongst all the Minor Arts practised by our ancestresses, there was certainly no one which was so much the fashion, or in which a higher grade of proficiency was attained, as that of needlework. It was in vogue in the castle and the cottage, in the ladies' seminary and the dame's school, and a girl's education began and ended with endeavours to attain perfection in it. Amongst the earliest objects to be shown to a mother visiting her daughter at school was, as is seen in the charming picture by Morland in the Wallace Collection (Fig. 1), the sampler which the young pupil had worked.[1] These early tasks were, very certainly in the majority of instances, little cared for by the schoolgirls who produced them, but being cherished by fond parents they came in after years to be looked upon with an affectionate eye by those who had made them, and to be preserved and even handed down as heirlooms in the family.

For some reason, not readily apparent, no authority on needlework has considered this by-product of the Art to be worthy of notice. In the many volumes which have been penned the writers have almost exclusively confined their attention to the more ambitious and, perhaps, more artistic performances of foreign nations. To such an extent has this omission extended that in a leading treatise on "Needlework as Art," samplers are dismissed in a single line, and in a more recent volume they are not even mentioned. It follows that the ill.u.s.trations for such books are almost without exception culled from foreign sources, to the entire exclusion of British specimens.

It may be contended that the phase of needlework to which special attention is drawn in this volume cannot be cla.s.sed amongst even the Minor Arts, and therefore is not worthy of the notoriety which such a work as this gives to it. Such a contention can fortunately be met by the authority of one whose word can hardly be challenged on such a question, namely, Mr Ruskin. Some years ago, upon a controversy arising in the press as to what objects should, and what should not, find a place in a museum, the author, in his capacity of editor of _The Art Journal_, induced Mr Ruskin to furnish that magazine with a series of letters containing his views on the matter. In these, after dealing with the planning of the building and its fitting up with the specialties which the industry of each particular district called for, he set aside six chambers for the due exposition of the six queenly and music-taught Arts of _Needlework_, Writing, Pottery, Sculpture, Architecture, and Painting, and in these the absolute best in each Art, so far as attainable by the munic.i.p.al pocket, was to be exhibited, the rise and fall (if fallen) of each Art being duly and properly set forth.

Mr Ruskin did not, however, content himself with claiming for needlework a prominent position. Had he only done this, his dictum might have availed us but little as regards admission of the branch of it to which we shall devote most of this volume. With the thoroughness which was so characteristic of him, he gave chapter and verse for the faith that was in him, clenching it with one of his usual felicitous instances, which, in this case, took as its text the indifferent st.i.tching of the gloves which he used when engaged in forestry.

Proceeding to show what the needlework chamber should contain, he designated first the structure of wool and cotton, hemp, flax, and silk, then the phases of its dyeing and spinning, and the mystery of weaving.

"Finally the accomplished phase of needlework, all the acicular Art of Nations--savage and civilised--from Lapland boot, letting in no snow water, to Turkey cushion bossed with pearl; to valance of Venice gold in needlework; to the counterpanes and _Samplers_ of our own lovely ancestresses."

It might appear to be by an accident that he specifically included the "Samplers of our own lovely ancestresses," but this was not so. Fine needlework was an accomplishment which was carried to an exceptional pitch of excellence by his mother, and her son was proud of her achievements, for this proficiency had descended from his grandmother, whose sampler (reproduced on Plate IX.) was probably present to Mr Ruskin's mind when he penned the sentence to which we have given prominence.

Having, then, such an authority for a.s.signing to English needlework a foremost place in any well organised museum, it may reasonably be claimed that our literature should contain some record of the sampler's evolution and history, and that our museums should arrange any materials they may possess in an order which will enable a would-be student, or any one interested, to gain information concerning the rise and fall (for such it has been) of the industry.

It may be said that such information is not called for, but this can hardly be a.s.serted in face of the fact that the first edition of this work, published at the considerable price of two guineas, was quickly exhausted, and demands have for some time been made for its reissue. The publication in question was the outcome of an exhibition held at The Fine Art Society, London, in 1900, at which some three hundred and fifty samplers, covering every decade since 1640, were shown. The interest taken in the display was remarkable, the reason probably being that almost every visitor possessed some specimen of the craft, but few had any idea that his or her possession was the descendant of such an ancestry, or had any claim to recognition beyond a purely personal one. Everyone then garnered information with little trouble and with unmistakable pleasure from the surprising and unexpected array, and the many requests that the collection should not be dispersed without an endeavour being made to perpetuate the information derived from an a.s.semblage of so many selected examples led to the compilation of the present work.

When The Fine Art Society's Exhibition was first planned the intention was to confine it to samplers, which, in themselves, formed a cla.s.s sufficiently large to occupy all the s.p.a.ce which experience showed should be allotted to them in any display with which it was not desired to weary the visitor. But it was speedily found that their evolution and _raison d'etre_ could not be satisfactorily nor interestingly ill.u.s.trated without recourse being had to the embroidered pictures alongside of which they originated, and which they subsequently supplanted, and to other articles for the decoration or identification of which samplers came into being.

Consequently the collection was enlarged so as to include three sections: first the embroidered pieces which range themselves under the heading of "Pictures in imitation of Tapestry"; then samplers; and lastly the miscellaneous articles, such as books, dresses, coats, waistcoats, gloves, shoes, caskets, cases, purses, etc., which were broidered by those who had learned the art from sampler making, or from the use of samplers as guides.

It would, without doubt, have added interest and variety to this volume could all these cla.s.ses have been considered in it, but to include the last-named would have necessitated enlarging its bulk beyond practicable limits, and, besides, it would then have covered ground, much of which has already been very satisfactorily and completely dealt with.

The work has consequently followed the lines of the Exhibition in so far as it includes "Samplers" and "Embroideries in the manner of Tapestry,"

which are dealt with in successive sections, and are followed by one upon the "st.i.tchery" employed, written by Mrs Head, who has unfortunately died since the publication of the first edition.

The author much regrets having given currency on page 5 to the report of Mrs. Head's death, which he is glad to learn is incorrect.

PART I

Samplers

[Ill.u.s.tration: PLATE II.--SAMPLER BY M. C. 16TH-17TH CENTURY. _This early pattern Sampler is described at p. 16._]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 3.--UPPER PORTION OF SAMPLER BY PUPIL IN ORPHAN SCHOOL, CALCUTTA, 1797. _Author's Collection._]

PART I

Samplers

The sampler as a pattern, or example, from which to learn varieties of needlework, whether of design or st.i.tches, must have existed almost as long as the Art of Embroidery, which we know dates back into as distant a past as any of the Arts. But when we set about the investigation of its evolution, we did not propose to trouble our readers with the history of an infancy which would have been invested with little interest and less Art; we did, however, hope to be able to extend our ill.u.s.trated record backwards to a date which would be limited only by the ravages which time had worked upon the material of which the sampler was composed--a date which would probably take us back to an epoch when the Art displayed upon it was of an unformed but still of an interesting character.

We must at the outset admit that we have been altogether disappointed in our quest. For some two hundred and fifty years, which most will admit to be a fair stretch of time, we can easily compile a record of genuinely dated and well-preserved specimens, filling not only every decade, but almost every year. The Art displayed, whether it be in design or dexterity with the needle, improves as we proceed backwards, until, in the exact centre of the seventeenth century, we arrive at a moment when little is left to be desired. We then have before us a series of samplers wherein the design is admirable, the st.i.tches are of great variety, and the materials of which they are composed are, in an astonishing number of instances, as fresh and well preserved as those of to-day. But at that moment, to our astonishment, the stream is arrested, and the supply fails, for no, at present, discoverable reason. This sudden arrest can in no way be explained. It would appear as if, with the downfall of the monarchy under Charles I., with which it almost exactly corresponds, a holocaust had been made of every sampler that existed. It is most exasperating, for it is as if one had studied the life of a notable character backwards through its senility, old age, and manhood, to lose all trace of its youth and infancy. Nor is there any apparent reason for this failure of the output. As we shall show later on, needlework for a century previously was in the heyday of its fashion. Every article of dress and furniture was decked out with it. As an instance, the small branch of needlework which we discuss in our second part was mainly in vogue in the first half of the seventeenth century, when we are searching in vain for specimens of samplers. Samplers, too, for generations previously are recorded in the literature of the time as common objects of household furniture. The specimens even of our earliest recorded decade cover no less than five years, 1651 (three), 1649, 1648 (three), 1644, 1643, and yet beyond the last-named date we encounter an entire blank.

This cannot be the limit of dated specimens. Earlier ones must exist, but the publicity of a very well advertised exhibition, which brought notifications of samplers by the thousand, did not produce them. Neither have the public museums, nor indefatigable collectors of many years'

standing, been able to obtain them, save two of the earliest years, 1643 and 1644, which have been acquired by the Victoria and Albert Museum, and of which that of 1643 is reproduced in Fig. 7. Our study of the sampler must therefore be based upon the materials at our disposal, and from these we shall a.n.a.lyse it with reference to its _raison d'etre_, age, decorative qualities, characteristics, and the persons by whom it was worked.

The Need of Samplers

In these days of sober personal attire, in which the adornment of our houses is almost entirely confined to the products of the loom, the absorbing interest which needlework possessed, and the almost entire possession which, in the Middle Ages, it took of the manual efforts of womankind, is apt to be lost sight of. In 1583, Stubbes, in his "Anatomy of Abuses," wrote that the men were "decked out in fineries even to their shirts, which are wrought throughout with needlework of silke, curiously st.i.tched with open seams and many other knacks besides," and that it was impossible to tell who was a gentleman "because all persons dress indiscriminately in silks, velvets, satins, damasks, taffeties, and such like." So, too, as regards the fair s.e.x it was the same, from the Queen, who had no less than 2,000 dresses in her wardrobe, downwards. In France, almost at the same moment (in 1586), a pet.i.tion was presented to Catherine de Medicis on "The Extreme Dearness of Living," setting forth that "mills, lands, pastures, woods, and all the revenues are wasted on embroideries, insertions, tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, ta.s.sels, fringes, hangings, gimps, needleworks, small chain st.i.tchings, quiltings, back st.i.tchings, etc., new diversities of which are invented daily." Everyone worked with the needle.

We read that the lady just named gathered round her her daughters, their cousins, and sometimes the exiled Marie Stuart, and pa.s.sed a great portion of the time after dinner in needlework. A little later Madame de Maintenon worked at embroidery, not only in her apartments, but even when riding or driving she was "hardly fairly ensconced in her carriage than she pulled her needlework out of the bag she carried with her."

The use of embroidery was not confined to personal adornment, but was employed in the decoration of the various objects which then went to make up the furniture of a house, such as curtains, bed-hangings, tablecloths, chair coverings, cushions, caskets, books, purses, and even pictures.

The luxury of the dwelling and the household had also of late increased to an extent that called for the possession of numbers of each article, whether it were clothing, table, or bed napery. Identification by marking and numbering became necessary, and as, probably, the very limited library of the house seldom contained books of ornamental lettering and numerals, samplers were made to furnish them. The evolution of the sampler is thus easily traceable. First of all consisting of decorative patterns thrown here and there without care upon the surface of a piece of canvas (see Plate II.); then of designs placed in more orderly rows, and making in themselves a harmonious whole; then added thereto alphabets and figures for the use of those who marked the linen, and as an off-shoot imitation of tapestry pictures by the additions of figures, houses, etc. Finally it was adopted as an educational task in the schools, as a specimen of phenomenal achievement at an early age, and as a means whereby moral precept might be prominently advertised.

As we have said, the samplers which have come down to us, and the age of which is certified by their bearing a date, do not extend beyond two hundred and seventy years, but those even of that age are writ all over with evidence that the sampler was then a fully developed growth, and must have been the descendant of a long line of progenitors. That they were in vogue long before this is proved by the references to them in literature as articles the use of which was a common one. Before proceeding further it may be well to cite some of these.

The earliest record which we have met with is one by the poet Skelton (1469-1529), who speaks of "the sampler to sowe on, the laces to embroide."

The next is an inventory of Edward VI. (1552), which notes a parchment book containing--

"_Item_: Sampler or set of patterns worked on Normandy canvas, with green and black silks."

To Shakespeare we naturally turn, and are not disappointed, for we find that in his "Midsummer Night's Dream," Act iii. scene 2, Helena addresses Hermia as follows:--

"O, is all forgot?

All schooldays' friendship, childhood innocence?

We, Hermia, like two artificial G.o.ds, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both working of one song, both in one key, As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds Had been incorporate."

And in "t.i.tus Andronicus," Act ii. scene 4, Marcus speaks of Philomel as follows:--

"Fair Philomel, she but lost her tongue, And in a tedious sampler sewed her mind."

Sir Philip Sidney (1554-86), in his "Arcadia," introduces a sampler as follows:--

"And then, O Love, why dost thou in thy beautiful sampler set such a work for my desire to take out?"

And Milton in "Comus" (1634):--

"And checks of sorry grain will serve to ply The sampler, and to tear the housewife's wool."

In "The Crown Garland of Golden Roses," 1612, is "A short and sweet sonnet made by one of the Maides of Honor upon the death of Queene Elizabeth, which she sowed upon a sampler, in red silk, to a new tune of 'Phillida Flouts Me'"; beginning