The Art of Needle-work, from the Earliest Ages Part 8

Taken at such disadvantage, Harold did all that a brave man could do to repel his formidable adversary. The tapestry depicts, as well as may be expected, the battle.

"The priests had watched all night, and besought and called upon G.o.d, and prayed to him in their chapels, which were fitted up throughout the host. They offered and vowed fasts, penances, and orisons; they said psalms and misereres, litanies and kyriels; they cried on G.o.d, and for his mercy, and said paternosters and ma.s.ses; some the SPIRITUS DOMINI, others SALUS POPULI, and many SALVE SANCTE PARENS, being suited to the season, as belonging to that day, which was Sat.u.r.day.

"AND NOW, BEHOLD! THAT BATTLE WAS GATHERED WHEREOF THE FAME IS YET MIGHTY.

"Then Taillefer, who sang right well, rode, mounted on a swift horse, before the duke.

"Loud and far resounded the bray of the horns, and the shocks of the lances, the mighty strokes of clubs, and the quick clas.h.i.+ng of swords.

One while the Englishmen rushed on, another while they fell back; one while the men from over sea charged onwards, and again at other times retreated. When the English fall, the Normans shout. Each side taunts and defies the other, yet neither knoweth what the other saith; and the Normans say the English bark, because they understand not their speech.

"Some wax strong, others weak; the brave exult, but the cowards tremble, as men who are sore dismayed. The Normans press on the a.s.sault, and the English defend their post well; they pierce the hauberks and cleave the s.h.i.+elds; receive and return mighty blows.

Again some press forwards, others yield, and thus in various ways the struggle proceeds."

The death of Harold's two brothers is depicted, and, finally, his own.

It is said that his mother offered the weight of the body in gold to have the melancholy satisfaction of interring it, and that the Conqueror refused the boon. But other writers affirm, and apparently with truth, that William immediately transmitted the body, unransomed, to the bereaved parent, who had it interred in the monastery of Waltham.

With the death of Harold the tapestry now ends, though some writers think it probable that it once extended as far as the coronation of William. There can be little doubt of its having been intended to extend so far, though it is impossible now to ascertain whether the Queen was ever enabled quite to complete her Herculean task. Enough there is, however, to stamp it as one of the "most n.o.ble and interesting relics of antiquity;" and, as Dibdin calls it, "an exceedingly curious doc.u.ment of the conjugal attachment, and even enthusiastic veneration of Matilda, and a political record of more weight than may at first sight appear to belong to it." Taking it altogether, he adds, "none but itself could be its parallel."

Almost all historians describe the Normans as advancing to the onset "singing the song of Roland," that is, a detail of the achievements of the slaughtered hero of Roncesvalles, which is well known to have been, for ages after the event to which it refers, a note of magical inspiration to deeds of "derring do". On this occasion it is recorded that the spirit note was sung by the minstrel Taillefer, who was, however, little contented to lead his countrymen by voice alone. It is not possible that our readers can be otherwise than pleased with the following animated account of his deeds:[39]--

THE ONSET OF TAILLEFER

"Foremost in the bands of France, Arm'd with hauberk and with lance, And helmet glittering in the air, As if a warrior-knight he were, Rushed forth the minstrel Taillefer-- Borne on his courser swift and strong, He gaily bounded o'er the plain, And raised the heart-inspiring song (Loud echoed by the warlike throng) Of Roland and of Charlemagne, Of Oliver, brave peer of old, Untaught to fly, unknown to yield, And many a knight and va.s.sal bold, Whose hallowed blood, in crimson flood, Dyed Roncesvalles' field.

"Harold's host he soon descried, Cl.u.s.tering on the hill's steep side: Then turned him back brave Taillefer, And thus to William urged his prayer: 'Great Sire, it fits me not to tell How long I've served you, or how well; Yet if reward my lays may claim, Grant now the boon I dare to name; Minstrel no more, be mine the blow That first shall strike yon perjured foe.'

'Thy suit is gained,' the Duke replied, 'Our gallant minstrel be our guide.'

'Enough,' he cried, 'with joy I speed, Foremost to vanquish or to bleed.'

"And still of Roland's deeds he sung, While Norman shouts responsive rung, As high in air his lance he flung, With well directed might; Back came the lance into his hand, Like urchin's ball, or juggler's wand, And twice again, at his command, Whirled its unerring flight.-- While doubting whether skill or charm Had thus inspired the minstrel's arm, The Saxons saw the wondrous dart Fixed in their standard bearer's heart.

"Now thrice aloft his sword he threw, 'Midst sparkling sunbeams dancing, And downward thrice the weapon flew, Like meteor o'er the evening dew, From summer sky swift glancing: And while amazement gasped for breath, Another Saxon groaned in death.

"More wonders yet!--on signal made, With mane erect, and eye-b.a.l.l.s flas.h.i.+ng, The well taught courser rears his head, His teeth in ravenous fury gnas.h.i.+ng; He snorts--he foams--and upward springs-- Plunging he fastens on the foe, And down his writhing victim flings, Crushed by the wily minstrel's blow.

Thus seems it to the hostile band Enchantment all, and fairy land.

"Fain would I leave the rest unsung:-- The Saxon ranks, to madness stung, Headlong rushed with frenzied start, Hurling javelin, mace, and dart; No shelter from the iron shower Sought Taillefer in that sad hour; Yet still he beckoned to the field, 'Frenchman, come on--the Saxons yield-- Strike quick--strike home--in Roland's name-- For William's glory--Harold's shame.'

Then pierced with wounds, stretched side by side, The minstrel and his courser died."

We have dwelt on the details of the tapestry with a prolixity which some may deem tedious. Yet surely the subject is worthy of it; for, in the first place, it is the oldest piece of needlework in the world--the only piece of that era now existing; and this circ.u.mstance in itself suggests many interesting ideas, on which, did our s.p.a.ce permit, we could readily dilate. Ages have rolled away; and the fair hands that wrought this work have mouldered away into dust; and the gentle and affectionate spirit that suggested this elaborate memorial has long since pa.s.sed from the scene which it adorned and dignified.

In no long period after the battle thus commemorated, an abbey, consecrated to praise and prayer, raised its stately walls on the very field that was ploughed with the strife and watered with the blood of fierce and evil men. The air that erst rang with the sounds of wrath, of strife, of warfare, the clangour of armour, the din of war, was now made musical with the chorus of praise, or was gently stirred by the breath of prayer or the sigh of penitence; and where contending hosts were marshalled in proud array, or the phalanx rushed impetuous to the battle, were seen the stoled monks in solemn procession, or the holy brother peacefully wending on his errand of charity.

But the grey and time-honoured walls waxed aged as they beheld generation after generation consigned to dust beneath their shelter.

Time and change have done their worst. A few scattered ruins, seen dimly through the mist of years, are all that remain to point to the inquiring wanderer the site of the stupendous struggle of which the results are felt even after the expiration of eight hundred years.

These may be deemed trite reflections: still it is worthy of remark, that many of the turbulent spirits who then made earth echo with their fame would have been literally and altogether as though they never had been--for historians make little or no mention of them--were it not for the lasting monument raised to them in this tapestry by woman's industry and skill.

Matilda the Queen's character is pictured in high terms by both English and Norman historians. "So very stern was her husband, and hot, that no man durst do anything against his will. He had earls in his custody who acted against his will. Bishops he hurled from their bishoprics, and abbots from their abbacies, and thanes into prison;"

yet it is recorded that even his iron temper was not proof against the good sense, the gentleness, the piety, and the affection of a wife who never offended him but once; and on this occasion there was so much to palliate and excuse her fault, proceeding as it did from a mother's yearnings towards her eldest son when he was in disgrace and sorrow, that the usually unyielding King forgave her immediately. She lived beloved, and she died lamented; and, from the time of her death, the King, says William of Malmsbury, "refrained from every gratification."

Independently of the value of this tapestry as an historical authority, and its interest as being projected, and in part executed, by a lady as excellent in character as she was n.o.ble in rank, and its high estimation as the oldest piece of needlework extant--independently of all these circ.u.mstances, it is impossible to study this memorial closely, "rude and skilless" as it at first appears, without becoming deeply interested in the task. The outline engravings of it in the "Tap.i.s.series Anciennes Historiees" are beautifully executed, but are inferior in interest to Mr. Stothart's (published by the Society of Antiquarians), because these have the advantage of being coloured accurately from the original. In the study of these plates alone, days and weeks glided away, nor left us weary of our task.

FOOTNOTES:

[38] The Comet of 1618 carried dismay and horror in its course. Not only mighty monarchs, but the humblest private individuals seem to have considered the sign as sent to them, and to have set a double guard on all their actions. Thus Sir Symonds D'Ewes, the learned antiquary, having been in danger of an untimely end by entangling himself among some bell-ropes, makes a memorandum in his private diary never more to exercise himself in bell-ringing when there is a comet in the sky.--Aikin.

[39] By Thomas Amyot, Esq., F.S.A.--Archaeol., vol. xix

CHAPTER X.

NEEDLEWORK OF THE TIMES OF ROMANCE AND CHIVALRY.

"As ladies wont To finger the fine needle and nyse thread."

Faerie Queene.

Though, during bygone ages, the fingers of the fair and n.o.ble were often sedulously employed in the decoration and embellishment of the church, and of its ministers, they were by no means universally so.

Marvellous indeed in quant.i.ty, as well as quality, must have been the st.i.tchery done in those industrious days, for the "fine needle and nyse thread" were not merely visible but conspicuous in every department of life. If, happily, there were not proof to the contrary, we might be apt to imagine that the women of those days came into the world _only_ "to ply the distaff, broider, card, and sew." That this was not the case we, however, well know; but before we turn to those embroideries which are more especially the subject of this chapter, we will transcribe, from a recent work,[40] an interesting detail of the household responsibilities of the mistress of a family in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.

"While to play on the harp and citole (a species of lute), to execute various kinds of the most costly and delicate needle-work, and in some instances to 'pourtraye,' were, in addition to more literary pursuits, the accomplishments of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the functions which the mistress of an extensive household was expected to fulfil were never lost sight of.

"Few readers are aware of the various qualifications requisite to form the 'good housewife' during the middle ages. In the present day, when household articles of every kind are obtainable in any country town, and, with few exceptions, throughout the year, we can know little of the judgment, the forethought, and the nice calculation which were required in the mistress of a household consisting probably of three-score, or even more persons, and who, in the autumn, had to provide almost a twelvemonth's stores. There was the fire-wood, the rushes to strew the rooms, the malt, the oatmeal, the honey (at this period the subst.i.tute for sugar), the salt (only sold in large quant.i.ties), and, if in the country, the wheat and the barley for the bread--all to be provided and stored away. The greater part of the meat used for the winter's provision was killed and salted down at Martinmas; and the mistress had to provide the necessary stock for the winter and spring consumption, together with the stockfish and 'baconed herrings' for Lent. Then at the annual fair, the only opportunity was afforded for purchasing those more especial articles of housewifery which the careful housewife never omitted buying--the ginger, nutmegs, and cinnamon, for the Christmas posset, and Sheer-Monday furmety; the currants and almonds for the Twelfth-Night cake (an observance which dates almost as far back as the Conquest); the figs, with which our forefathers always celebrated Palm-Sunday; and the pepper, the saffron, and the c.u.mmin, so highly prized in ancient cookery. All these articles bore high prices, and therefore it was with great consideration and care that they were bought.

"But the task of providing raiment for the family also devolved upon the mistress, and there were no dealers save for the richer articles of wearing apparel to be found. The wool that formed the chief clothing was the produce of the flock, or purchased in a raw state; and was carded, spun, and in some instances woven at home. Flax, also, was often spun for the coa.r.s.er kinds of linen, and occasionally woven.

Thus, the mistress of a household had most important duties to fulfil, for on her wise and prudent management depended not merely the comfort, but the actual well-being of her extensive household. If the winter's stores were insufficient, there were no markets from whence an additional supply could be obtained; and the lord of wide estates and numerous manors might be reduced to the most annoying privations through the mismanagement of the mistress of the family."

The "costly and delicate needle-work" is here, as elsewhere, pa.s.sed over with merely a mention. It is, naturally, too insignificant a subject to task the attention of those whose energies are devoted to describing the warfare and welfare of kingdoms and thrones. Thus did we look only to professed historians, though enough exists in their pages to evidence the existence of such productions as those which form the subject of our chapter, our evidence would be meagre indeed as to the minuter details: but as the "novel" now describes those minutiae of every day life which we should think it ridiculous to look for in the writings of the politician or historian, so the romances of the days of chivalry present us with descriptions which, if they be somewhat redundant in ornament, are still correct in groundwork; and the details gathered from romances have in, it may be, unimportant circ.u.mstances, that accidental corroboration from history which fairly stamps their faithfulness in more important particulars: and it has been shown, says the author of 'G.o.defridus,' by learned men, in the memoirs of the French Academy of Inscriptions, that they may be used in common with history, and as of equal authority whenever an inquiry takes place respecting the _spirit and manners of the ages_ in which they were composed. But we are writing a dissertation on romance instead of describing the "clodes ryche," to which we must now proceed.

So highly was a facility in the use of the needle prized in these "ould ancient times," that a wandering damsel is not merely _tolerated_ but _cherished_ in a family in which she is a perfect stranger, solely from her skill in this much-loved art.

After being exposed in an open boat, Emare was rescued by Syr Kadore, remained in his castle, and there--

"She tawghte hem to _sewe_ and _marke_ All _maner of sylkyn werke_, Of her they wer ful fayne."[41]

Syr Kadore says of her--

"She ys the konnyngest wommon, I trowe, that be yn Crystendom, Of _werk_ that y have sene."

And again describing her--

"She _sewed sylke_ werk yn bour."

This same accomplished and luckless lady had, princess though she was, every advantage of early tuition in this notable art, having been sent in her childhood to a lady called Abro, who not only taught her "curtesye and thewe" (virtue and good manners), but also

"Golde and sylke for to sewe, Amonge maydenes moo:"