Our own country can furnish an example of this kind of golden textile. At Chessel Down, in the Isle of Wight, when Mr. Hillier was making some researches in an old Anglo-Saxon place of burial, the diggers found pieces of golden strips, thin, and quite flat, which are figured in M. l’Abbé Cochet’s learned book just quoted.[62] Of such a rich texture must have been the vestment covered with precious stones, given to St. Peter’s Church, at Rome, by Charles of France, in the middle of the ninth century: “Carolus rex sancto Apostolo obtulit ex purissimo auro, et gemmis constructam vestem, &c.”[63]
In the working of such webs and embroidery for use in the Church, a high-born Anglo-Saxon lady, Ælthelswitha, with her waiting maids, spent her life near Ely, where, “aurifrixoriæ et texturis secretius cum puellulis vacabat, quæ de proprio sumptu, albam casulam suis manibus ipsa talis ingenii peritissima fecit,” &c.[64]
[62] Ib. p. 176.
[63] Liber Pontificalis, l. iii., p. 201, ed. Vignolia.
[64] Liber Eliensis, ed. Stewart, p. 208.
Such a weaving of pure gold was, here in England, followed certainly as late as the beginning of the tenth century; very likely much later. In the chapter library belonging to Durham Cathedral may be seen, along with several other very precious liturgical appliances, a stole and maniple, which happily, for more reasons than one, bear these inscriptions: “Ælfflaed Fieri Precepit. Pio Episcopo Fridestano.” Queen to Alfred’s son and successor, Edward the elder was our Ælfflaed who got this stole and maniple made for a gift to Fridestan, consecrated bishop of Winchester A.D. 905. With these webs under his eye, Mr. Raine, in his “Saint Cuthbert,”[65] writes thus: In the first, the ground work of the whole is woven exclusively with thread of gold. I do not mean by thread of gold, the silver-gilt wire frequently used in such matters, but real gold thread, if I may so term it, not round, but flat. This is the character of the whole web, with the exception of the figures, the undulating cloud-shaped pedestal upon which they stand, the inscriptions, and the foliage; for all of which, however surprising it may appear, vacant spaces have been left by the loom, and they themselves afterwards inserted with the needle. Further on, in his description of a girdle, the same writer tells us: Its breadth is exactly seven-eighths of an inch. It has evidently proceeded from the loom; and its two component parts are a flattish thread of pure gold, and a thread of scarlet silk, &c.[66] Let it be borne in mind that Winchester was then a royal city, and abounded, as it did afterwards, with able needle-women.
[65] P. 202.
The employment, till a late period, of flattened gold in silk textiles is well shown by those fraudulent imitations, and substitution in its stead of gilt parchment, which we have pointed out among the specimens in this collection, as may be seen at Nos. [7095], p. 140; [8590], p. 224; [8601], p. 229; [8639], p. 244, &c.
That these Durham cloth-of-gold stuffs for vestments were home made—we mean wrought in Anglo-Saxondom—is likely, and by our women’s hands, after the way we shall have to speak about further on.
This love for such glittering attire, not only for liturgical use but secular wear, lasted long in England. Such golden webs went here under different names; at first they were called “ciclatoun,” “siglaton,” or “siklatoun,” as the writer’s fancy led him to spell the common Persian word for them at the time throughout the east.