GENERAL CLASSIFICATION
Most of the rugs of commerce in this country come from Persia, Turkey, Asia Minor, Turkestan, the southern part of Russia, Afghanistan, and Beluchistan; a few also from India. The rugs are named from the provinces or cities where they are woven, and to the uninitiated, the names seem to have been as fearfully and wonderfully made as the rugs themselves. They are spelled one way on the maps and every other way in catalogues and advertisements. In enumerating the most familiar ones it may be well to write their names as nearly phonetically and conventionally as possible. A few rugs have trade appellations only, without regard to topography; and, often, unknown towns are called into requisition for fanciful titles to please the purchaser.
Of course the names of rugs may mean nothing to your man-of-all-work, whose duty it is to chastise them upon the lawn. But there is poetry in the names of the roses, and you cannot half enjoy their beauty unless you know a Mabel Morrison from the Baroness Rothschild; Cécile Brunner from the Earl of Dufferin; or can give the proper rank and title to Captain Christy, General Jacqueminot, and Maréchal Niel. And who would dare to talk of laces that could not give a French or Dutch or Irish name to them? Or, when painted pictures instead of woven ones were under discussion, who would venture to admit that he had heard for the first time the names of some of the Old Masters, or did not know any of the Flemish School, or could not at least touch his hat to a Gainsborough or a Romney? There were “old masters” in wool as well as on canvas, as the Gheordez rugs most particularly prove, and though the artists’ signatures are missing or meaningless, their classification is important. Once learned, and then difficult to remember withal, rugs answer to their names like old and familiar friends. If Homer catalogued the ships, surely the masterpieces of the Eastern loom are worthy of brief nomenclature.
The Persians come first, and perhaps in the following order of excellence: Kirman, Sehna, Kurdistan, Khorassan, Serabend, Youraghan, Joshghan (Tjoshghan), Feraghan, Shiraz, Gulistan, Mousul, etc. The rug dealers frequently speak of a “Persian Iran,” but as Iran is the native expression for Persia, the name is as tautological as are the dealer’s laudatory adjectives. So far as the term “Iran” can be differentiated, it is now applied with some propriety to rare old Persian rugs of fine weave only, whose proper name may be in doubt.
Among the Turkish rugs, which are mainly those from Asia Minor, the Yourdez (or Gheordez), the Koulahs, Koniahs, and Ladiks are by far the finest, and then come the Bergamas, vying often for like high honour, the Melez, and many others which are vaguely classed as Anatolians.
From Turkestan come the numerous Bokharas and the more uncommon Samarkands; from Afghanistan, the Afghans and the Khiva, and Yamoud-Bokharas. But the two rugs last named seem to have a doubtful paternity, and should perhaps be classed with the other Bokharas.
Beluchistan sends but one type, which is generally unmistakable, although Afghans, Bokharas, and Beluchistans all have a family likeness.
To Caucasia in Russia are credited the Kabistans, Shirvans, Chichis (Tzi-tzis), Darbends, Karabaghs, Kazaks, and Gengias, also the Soumacs, or so-called Cashmeres. The first four of these are somewhat similar in character, and not many years ago were generally sold in this country under the indiscriminate title of Daghestans. We are more specific in our knowledge now, and can classify and differentiate an old Baku rug, or a Kuba, which is a Kubistan, and therefore what we used to call an antique Kabistan.
India provides us only with some fine large carpets mostly of modern make, and also with many imitations of Persian rugs, made in part by machinery like the current substitute for a Turkish towel.
OF THE MAKING, & OF DESIGNS, BORDERS, ETC.
Chapter III
OF THE MAKING, & OF DESIGNS, BORDERS, ETC.
In order to appreciate the beauty of rugs, it is well to remember how they are made, and with what infinite patience the bits of wool are knotted onto the warp one after another, knot upon knot and tie after tie, until the perfect piece is finished. Yet, no! Finished it may be, but never perfect. Deliberately, if necessary, it must show some defect, in proof that Allah alone is perfect. Such at least is the poetical version of a crooked rug as the seller tells it. Yet never was a vendor but will expatiate fluently on the merits of a rug which lies true and straight and flat upon the floor, as a good rug should. It is a common sight nowadays in shop windows to see some wandering artisan plying his trade for the edification of the passer-by. In his own home it is generally a woman who does the weaving, and very commonly the whole family take part in it. More often still the rugs were woven by an Oriental maid for her prospective dowry, and the practice yet obtains. A specimen of her handicraft in textile art was a bride’s portion and marriage gift; it was considered as essential to the proceedings as the modern trousseau. This offering was a work of love and often a work of years. It is but natural, under such circumstances, with dreams, hopes, and fancies for inspiration, and the stimulus of rivalry, too, that masterpieces should result. These Eastern marriage portions correspond to the “linen chest” of our ancestral Puritan Priscillas; and similar customs now survive in many countries. Except that the “accomplishment” of the Oriental maiden is so much more important, it might also be compared to the beadwork so diligently done by our grandmothers. If the Persian bride gave infinite toil and pains to innumerable knots and ties, our belles of the last century were also unwearying in their tasks, and strung more and smaller beads than any would care to count or finger now. The designs on these bead-bags were mostly crude and “homely,” and their art was very simple. But though the handiwork of the Orientals was expended in a better cause with worthier skill, both linen and wool, and even beads, bespoke a labour of love in such employments; which, alas! is out of date to-day. Rugs of this character, gathered from house to house, together with some few stolen from mosque or palace, were the first ripe spoils of twenty years ago. Of course the supply was soon exhausted. It is an interesting question whether it might not be possible, in the East, to revive this high class of work among the girls. Instead of establishing great factories for machine-made products from set designs, could not the most skilful of the girls be induced by good prices to create original pieces and rejuvenate the old art?
Plate II.
ANTIQUE KONIAH
Prayer Rug
From the Collection of Mr. George H. Ellwanger
Size: 3.5 x 4.7
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| “Serabend” Border | Persian, Caucasian | |
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| Feraghan Leaf Design | Rhodian or Lily Border |
The method of weaving is most simple. The warp is stretched on a rude wooden frame, and this warp is either wool, linen, or cotton. The knotting is begun at the bottom and worked from right to left. A bit of woollen yarn about two inches long is deftly twisted between the strands of the warp, then tied in a secure knot, and the ends left as they are. This knot of yarn is then secured in place by one or more twists of the end of the warp, and then another knot of yarn is tied and the process repeated ad infinitum until the bottom row is finished and another row begun. Not till the rug is all made are the ends of the knots cut, according to the length of nap desired. Such, at least, was the original method, although the various knots are all a mystery to any but the initiated, by whom they are generally classified as two only. When one square inch of rug is completed, according to the quality of the rug and the coarseness or fineness of the yarn, there have been thus laboriously tied from one hundred to five hundred knots, not uncommonly a thousand and more in some museum pieces. And all this while the weaver is working with his brains as well as with his fingers and keeping true to the design and colour scheme which he carries only in his head. Except in the few intentioned copies, specially made, they had formerly no patterns to follow. Each particular weaver, however, was wont to keep to the general design and colouring which distinguished his particular locality.
| Koniah Field | Koulah Border |
Of designs it may be said, generally, that they were originally individual trademarks, and, of themselves, stamped the locality of their weavers. Later, as knowledge and civilization spread and tribe grew to communicate with tribe and nation with nation, local designs came to be used indiscriminately. For example, you will find in the semi-antique Feraghans or Shiraz, or Kiz-Killims as well, the distinctive and unmistakable Sehna models. On the other hand, certain definite, primal, and unchanged designs, both in the field and border, mark some rugs absolutely and exclusively; as the Bokharas and Afghans. In many, their classification is fixed, or at least approximated, rather by their borders than by the figuring of their fields. There are many border designs surely determining their origin and the region to which they properly belong. These borders may have been borrowed or stolen, or may have naturally spread to other regions, even in the old time; and they may be adapted to various other makes to-day. Their evident individuality of design tells its own history just the same.
It is not difficult to master the characteristic features of the borders of many types; and, once known, they make a fair foundation of knowledge for the collector. They are often truer and safer guides to classification than are the designs of centre or field. Indeed, the study of borders, inner, middle, and outer borders, and borders characteristic, modified, or exceptional would make a book of wondrous artistic interest and beauty of design. Even the item of selvedge, particularly in the Beluchistans, shows great skill in colouring and pattern.
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| Turtle Border | Crab Border | |
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The consideration of characteristic patterns in field and border is so involved with verbal description and specification in the various classes of rugs that an attempt at complete pictorial illustration of such figures in their proper place is practically impossible. A few reproductions are shown in this chapter which may serve as examples. Some of them are more particularly considered elsewhere in the text, as reference may show.
The Serabend border is referred to on p. 50, and is quite unmistakable; and the Persian border (p. 23) is familiar to every one, and appears frequently on Caucasian rugs of every quality and every age. The Feraghan leaf design is noticed on p. 52, and wherever used in the drawing, determines its class as absolutely as any figure may. The Rhodian border is referred to more particularly on p. 72, and the Koniah design and Koulah border are described in their proper place, p. 72. Other Persian borders are most interesting, although they may not particularize any class or locality. Such are the turtle and crab borders (pp. 28 and 29), and the lobster design, at the head of this page. The origin of these strange forms of ornament as applied to carpet-weaving adds only another mystery to the subject. But dyes were derived not only from leaves and roots, but also from insects, molluscs, and crustaceans. It must be that the origin of the colour originally suggested these symbols of marine or insect life for decorative effect. The more they were used, however, the more conventionalized and meaningless they appear, recent weavers not appreciating what they represented. Old pieces show more clearly the evident model. But old pieces also often show original creations in border and design, far more artistic than the usual types. The Kazak border of the titlepage is an example. The discriminating collector, when a choice offers, will do well to avoid the commonplace.






