“Thus is a Needle prov’d an Instrument
Of profit, pleasure, and of ornament,
Which mighty Queenes have grac’d in hand to take.”
John Taylor.
Needlework is an art so attractive in itself; it is capable of such infinite variety, and is such a beguiler of lonely, as of social hours, and offers such scope to the indulgence of fancy, and the display of taste; it is withal—in its lighter branches—accompanied with so little bodily exertion, not deranging the most recherché dress, nor incommoding the most elaborate and exquisite costume, that we cannot wonder that it has been practised with ardour even by those the farthest removed from any necessity for its exercise. Therefore has it been from the earliest ages a favourite employment of the high and nobly born.
The father of song hardly refers at all to the noble dames of Greece and Troy but as occupied in “painting with the needle.” Some, the heroic achievements of their countrymen on curtains and draperies, others various rich and rare devices on banners, on robes and mantles, destined for festival days, for costly presents to ambassadors, or for offerings to friends. And there are scattered notices at all periods of the prevalence of this custom. In all ages until this of
“inventions rare
Steam towns and towers.”
the preparation of apparel has fallen to woman’s share, the spinning, the weaving, and the manufacture of the material itself from which garments were made. But, though we read frequently of high-born dames spinning in the midst of their maids, it is probable that this drudgery was performed by inferiors and menials, whilst enough, and more than enough of arduous employment was left for the ladies themselves in the rich tapestries and embroideries which have ever been coveted and valued, either as articles of furniture, or more usually for the decoration of the person.
Rich and rare garments used to be infinitely more the attribute of high rank than they now are; and in more primitive times a princess was not ashamed to employ herself in the construction of her own apparel or that of her relatives. Of this we have an intimation in the old ballad of ‘Hardyknute’—beginning
“Stately stept he east the wa’,
And stately stept he west.”
“Farewell, my dame, sae peerless good,
(And took her by the hand,)
Fairer to me in age you seem,
Than maids for beauty fam’d.
My youngest son shall here remain
To guard these lonely towers,
And shut the silver bolt that keeps
Sae fast your painted bowers.
“And first she wet her comely cheeks,
And then her boddice green,
Her silken cords of twisted twist,
Well plett with silver sheen;
And apron set with mony a dice
Of needlewark sae rare,
Wove by nae hand, as ye may guess,
Save that of Fairly fair.”
But it harmonises better with our ideas of high or royal life to hear of some trophy for the warrior, some ornament for the knightly bower, or some decorative offering for the church, emanating from the taper fingers of the courtly fair, than those kirtles and boddices which, be they ever so magnificent, seem to appertain more naturally to the “milliner’s practice.” Therefore, though we give the gentle Fairly fair all possible praise for notability in the