How rude and uncouth these first attempts were, matters little. They constituted the alphabet of all the bright creations, whether of the pencil or pen, which are the glory of the present century. During the dark ages Needlework was considered an aristocratic, nay, almost a regal accomplishment, and queens vied with each other in the gentle art as ardently as their husbands struggled in the battle-field.
The Lady of a castle in those times made it a portion of her duty to initiate the noble damsels of her household in the mysteries of cross and tent-stitch, just as her lord held noble youths in training for the battle-field.
The amount of Needlework done by the female sovereigns of England and France is really wonderful! The wife of William the Conqueror wrought whole suits of tapestry with her own hands, and poor Mary Stewart has left scores of mournful proofs how great a consolation this accomplishment is to the suffering and afflicted. Her solitude in the various prison castles of England was softened more by this gentle occupation of the hands, than by her literary or conversational talent put together. The most touching memento of this beautiful woman at Holyrood Palace is the basket in which she placed those pretty garments, enriched by her own skill, intended for the infancy of her only son—that son who allowed her to remain a prisoner during his entire youth, rather than endanger the friendship of her royal murderess. Indeed one of the most painful events of her life was connected with this art. After a year of prison life, spent in embroidering a robe for this pusillanimous son, after she had woven as it were her anguish and her tears in the rich fabric, she forwarded the garment to Scotland, accompanied by a letter full of maternal love. This letter was directed to James, Prince of Scotland, not to the King. Holding her own sovereign rights as sacred, how could she acknowledge those of another by her own hands. James sent the robe back because of this omission It is easy to fancy, after this outrage, that poor Mary Stewart might receive her death warrant with comparative composure.
KNITTING.
We should find it difficult to trace the origin of this particular class of work-table employment, of which our book treats, except as it sprang from these intricate stitches first introduced into old point lace. The transition from one needle to more, and the weaving of thread into forms of beauty, was a progress natural to the spirit of invention, and the facilities for thought which the first step in any art creates.
Probably the first progress which Knitting made toward a distinct art, was when yarn stockings were invented in Flanders. The stitch, as every New England housewife knows, is simple enough. But inventive genius has so adorned and varied it, that stockings are easily enriched with lace-work, and lace itself is abundantly manufactured by a little thread and a pair of knitting needles. There is no female accomplishment so universal as this of knitting. The women of different nations perform the simple stitches with a process of their own, but the result is the same. In Germany and Russia, the yarn is held in the left hand, and wound in an intricate fashion among the fingers of that hand, while with us it is simply folded over the front and little finger of the right hand. The author remembers well the amazement and merry smiles of a Russian lady in St. Petersburg, when she exhibited this American method of producing the stitch the lady had been forming in the continental fashion; this was but natural; for the amusement was quite mutual. Nothing could be droller than the way in which she handled her needles.
All over Europe, ladies may be seen in their balconies after dinner, grouped around their work-baskets, while the gentlemen converse with them, or silently watch the progress of their pretty tasks. In the sitting-room of every mansion, some one corner is rendered cozier than the rest, by the well-used work table, laden with pretty boxes and baskets, crowned with a rainbow wreath of Berlin wool. Fashionable as this household accomplishment is getting among us, American ladies devote themselves less to needlework than those of almost any other nation.
CROCHET WORK.
Crochet Work proper is, in its present improved form, almost a modern invention. It has only been introduced to any extent into the country within the last twenty years, but now it is very general, and our old-fashioned knitting work is completely thrown into the back ground by the Crochet needle. The embroidered sheath and chased silver needle-case have disappeared even from the cherry-wood workstands of New England, and a thousand beautiful designs for chairs, cushions, toilets and wearing apparel, supply the place of the old-fashioned stocking basket with its well mended contents. In England and Ireland, where the ladies are always industrious, Crochet work has arisen to the dignity of an art. It is introduced into the national schools, and hundreds of poor are supported by the rich laces and pretty collars produced there.
It is quite wonderful to what perfection this art has reached in some districts of Ireland. Every day develops new improvements and contributes some novel pattern to the world, which promises to render this class of lace making more popular than even the English point, has been, especially on this side the Atlantic. At the Crystal Palace this year, some specimens of Crochet collars, sleeves, and even entire dresses, were exhibited that had all the rich effect of old point lace. Flowers, even raised in petals from the ground work, have been invented, and the most intricate patterns are given with a boldness of effect only to be found in the ancient lace we have mentioned.