In the twenty-fourth chapter of Genesis we read how Abraham in his old age sent his eldest servant unto his own country and kindred, thence to bring back a wife for his son Isaac; and how that man, at his master’s behest, immediately took ten camels, carrying something of all his lord’s goods with him, and went on to Mesopotamia, to the city of Nahor; and how, when he had reached that place, and had made a halt without the town near a well of water, in the evening, at the time that women were wont to come out to draw water, he besought Heaven that the maid to whom he should say, “Let down thy pitcher, I pray thee, that I may drink, and she shall say, Drink, and I will give thy camels drink also—let the same be she that Thou hast appointed for thy servant Isaac.” This faithful steward had not yet ended these words within himself, and behold Rebecca came out, the daughter of Bathuel the son of Milcha, wife to Nahor, the brother of Abraham, and spoke and did as this servant had wished: and then he gave her golden earrings and bracelets.
As was fitting, the whole scene is laid in the open air, amid a charming landscape scattered all over with buildings. To the left, in the foreground, we behold a maid with a pitcher getting water out of a large square tank, ready, as it seems, for a second serving-woman to carry off, and who is coming back with another pitcher empty to be again refilled. In the middle ground a young woman, who carries a large pot of water on her head, is clambering over a wooden fence, and going towards an arch or bridge leading to a house.
Right in the centre of the piece stands Rebecca, with one foot resting on a slab of veined marble, on which is placed a richly ornamented vase; and from out another like vessel, which she holds up in both her hands, she is giving drink to the steward Eliezer, who is respectfully bending forwards while carrying to his lips this same pitcher to slake his thirst. A kind of short sword, or anelace, dangles from his girdle, and a long stout staff lies by his feet upon the ground. Two tall trees with vines twining about them overshadow the spot. In the distance stand several camels burdened; but behind him, some of his men, having unloaded one or two of those beasts, are opening certain gaily ornamented trunks, and looking out, no doubt, the bracelets and earrings to be afterwards given to Rebecca. In the background are fine large buildings, fortifications, a castle, and a palace-like erection conspicuous for its tall tower and cupola, besides the walls of a little town.
The piece is framed with a very elaborately designed broad border, containing accessories which show a strong leaning towards the ornamentation that grew out of the classicism that burst forth at the end of the fifteenth century all over Europe.
On the lower band, standing one at each side of a short pedestal, or rather low dado, are, back to back, two bearded grotesques, each of which is made up of a human head and face having three goats’ horns growing out of the forehead, and of a wyvern’s body, holding aloft in one of its claws a tall tapering torch. Further on comes a series of spaces peopled with emblematic personages, and separated from one another by two little naked winged boys standing on a highly elaborate zocle, and with the left hand swinging by a cord, at each end of which hang from a ring, and done up in bunches, fruits and flowers. In the first space is “Prudentia,” bearing in her right hand a long-handled convex mirror, in her left, a human skull; in the second space, upon a sort of throne, sits “Sollicitudo,” upholding in her right hand an oblong square time-piece, while on her left, with her elbow propped up by one arm of her chair, she leans her head as if buried in deep thought; in the third space sits “Animi-(Probitas)” with both her arms outstretched, as if reprovingly; in the fourth space we have “Ceres,” the heathen goddess of corn: crowned with a wreath of the centaurea flowers, she carries ears of wheat in her right hand, in her left, a round flat loaf of bread; in the fifth space, “Liberalitas,” who, from the emblems in her hands, must have been meant to personify not generosity but freedom, for in her right hand she shows us a hawk’s jesses, with the bells and their bewits, and on her left wrist, or, as it should be phrased, the “fist,” the hawk itself without jesses, bells, lunes, or tyrrits on—in fact quite free.
At the left side of the upright portion of the border, stands first, within an architectural niche, “Circumspectio,” or Wariness, who, while she gathers up with her right hand her flowing garments from hindering her footsteps, with her left, holds an anchor upright, and carries on her wrist a hawk with two heads, one looking behind, the other before, fit token of keen-sightedness, which, from a knowledge of the past, strives to learn wisdom for the future. Higher up “Adjuratio” is standing, with her right hand outstretched afar, as if in warning of the awfulness of the act, and her left hand held upon her bosom in earnest of the truth of what she utters, whilst all about her head, as if enlightened from heaven, shines a nimb of glory. Last of all on this side, we have “Bonus zelus,” or Right-Earnestness, in the figure of a stout, hale husbandman, who is about clasping within his right arm two straight uprooted saplings, evidently apple-trees, by the fruit hanging from the wisp which binds them at their middle height.
Going to the right-hand strip, we find, at the lower end, occupying her niche, “Pudicitias,” (sic), figured as a young maiden, who holds upon her breast with her left arm a little lamb, which, with her uplifted right hand, and the first two fingers put out according to the Latin rite, she seems to be blessing. In his own niche, and just overhead, we see “Requisicio,” or Hot-wishfulness, who is shown to us under the guise of a young knight, girt with an anelace, which hangs in front of him: in the hollow of his left outstretched hand he carries a heart—very likely as his own—all on fire. The last of this very curious series is “Diligentia,” as a matronly woman, who, with one hand keeping the ample folds of her gown from falling about her feet, carries the branch of a vine in the other hand.
From the quantities of dulled and blackish spaces all over the border-ground, and amid the draperies upon the figures in this tapestry, it is evident that much gold thread was woven into it, so that when fresh from the loom it must have had a splendour and a richness of which at present we can image to ourselves but a very faint idea. Though the glitter of its golden material is gone for ever, its artistic beauty cannot ever fade. Much gracefulness in the attitudes, several happy foreshortenings, and a great deal of good drawing all about this design, show that the man who made the cartoon must have deeply studied the great masters of Italy, and, in an especial manner, those belonging to the Roman school: unfortunately, like all of them, he too had forgot to learn what was the real Oriental costume, and followed a classic style in dress, which, as he has given it, is often very incorrect.
Tapestry Wall-hanging; subject, Tobit, the father, sending his son to the city of Rages for the recovery of the moneys lent to Gabael. Flemish, late 17th century.