Milan, though now-a-days she stands in such high repute for the richness and beauty of her silks of all sorts, was not, we believe, at any period during mediæval times as famous for her velvets, her brocades, or cloths of gold, as for her armour, so strong and trustworthy for the field, so exquisitely demascened for courtly service. Still, in the sixteenth century, she earned a name for rich cut velvets as may be seen in the specimen, no. 698; for her silken net-work, no. 8336, which may have led the way to weaving silk stockings; and for her laces of the open tinsel kind once in great vogue for both sacred and secular use, as in no. 8331.
England, from her earliest period, had textile fabrics varying in design and material; the colours in the woollen garments worn by each of the three several classes into which the Bardic order was divided, and of the chequered pattern in Boadicea’s cloak, have been already mentioned. It would seem from John Garland, whose witness is referred to above, p. 12, that the lighter and more tasteful webs wrought here came from women’s hands; and the loom, one of which must have been in almost every English nunnery and homestead, was of the simplest make.
In ancient times the Egyptians wove in an upright loom, and beginning at top so as to weave downwards sat at their work. In Palestine also the weaver had an upright loom, but, beginning at bottom and working upwards, was obliged to stand. During the mediæval period the loom in England was horizontal, as is shown by that figured in the Bedford book of Hours (preserved in the British museum), fol. 32; at which the blessed Virgin is seated weaving curtains for the temple.
There are several examples at South Kensington of the work of English women, showing the excellence of their handicraft as well as elegance in design during the thirteenth century. Nos. 1233, 1256, and 1270 may be referred to. But for specimens of the commoner sorts of silken textiles and of wider breadth, which began to be woven in this country under Edward the third, it would be hazardous to direct the reader. Recent examples, velvets among the rest, may be found in the Brooke collection. To some students the piece of old English printed chintz, no. 1622, will not be without an interest.
For the finer sort of linen napery Eylisham or Ailesham in Lincolnshire was famous during the fourteenth century. Exeter cathedral, in 1327, had a hand towel of “Ailesham cloth.”
Our coarser native textiles in wool or in thread, or in both woven together, formed a stuff called “burel.” St. Paul’s in 1295 had a light blue chasuble, and Exeter cathedral in 1277 a long pall of this texture. Burel and, in short, all the coarser kinds of work were wrought by men: sometimes in monasteries. The old Benedictine rule obliged the monks to give a certain number of hours every week-day to hand-work, either at home or in the field.
The weaving in this country of woollen cloth, as a staple branch of trade, is very old. Of the monks at Bath abbey we are told by a late writer, “that the shuttle and the loom employed their attention (about the middle of the fourteenth century), and under their active auspices the weaving of woollen cloth (which made its appearance in England about the year 1330, and received the sanction of an act of parliament in 1337) was introduced, established, and brought to such perfection at Bath as rendered the city one of the most considerable in the west of England for this manufacture.” Worcester cloth was so good that, by a chapter of the Benedictine order held in 1422 at Westminster abbey, it was forbidden to be worn by the monks and declared smart enough for military men. Norwich also wove stuffs that were in demand for costly household furniture; and Sir John Cobham, in 1394, bequeathed “a bed of Norwich stuff embroidered with butterflies.” In one of the chapels at Durham priory there were four blue cushions of Norwich work. Worsted, a town in Norfolk, by a new method of its own for the carding of the wool with combs of iron well heated, and then twisting the thread harder than usual in the spinning, enabled our weavers to produce a woollen stuff of a peculiar quality, to which the name itself of worsted was immediately given. To such a high repute did the new web grow that church vestments and domestic furniture of the choicest sorts were made out of it. Exeter cathedral among its chasubles had several “de nigro worsted” in cloth of gold. Vestments made of worsted, variously spelt “worsett” and “woryst,” are enumerated in the fabric rolls of York minster. Elizabeth de Bohun, in 1356, bequeathed to her daughter the countess of Arundel “a bed of red worsted embroidered;” and Joane lady Bergavenny leaves to John of Ormond “a bed of cloth of gold with lebardes, with those cushions and tapettes of my best red worsted.”
Irish cloth, white and red, in the reign of king John was much used in England; and in the household expenses of Swinford, bishop of Hereford in 1290, an item occurs of Irish cloth for lining.
English weavers knew also how to work artificially designed and well-figured webs. In the wardrobe accounts of Edward the second is this item: “to a mercer of London for a green hanging of wool wove with figures of kings and earls upon it, for the king’s service in his hall on solemn feasts at London.” Such “salles,” as they were called in France, and “hullings” or rather “hallings” the name they went under here, were much valued abroad and in common use at home. Under the head of “Salles d’Angleterre” among the articles of costly furniture belonging to Charles the fifth of France, in 1364, one set of hangings is thus entered: “une salle d’Angleterre vermeille brodée d’azur, et est la bordeure à vignettes et le dedens de lyons, d’aigles et de lyepars.” Here in England, Richard earl of Arundel in 1392 willed to his dear wife “the hangings of the hall which was lately made in London, of blue tapestry with red roses with the arms of my sons,” etc.; and lady Bergavenny, after bequeathing her hullying of black, red, and green to one friend, left to another her best stained “hall.”
Flemish textiles, at least of the less ambitious kinds such as napery and woollens, were much esteemed centuries ago; and our countryman Matthew of Westminster says of Flanders that, made from the material which we sent her, the wool, she sent us back precious garments. So important was the supply of wool to the Flemings in the fourteenth century that the check given to it by the wars between England and France at that time led to a special treaty between Edward the third and the burghers of the Flemish communes under the guidance of James van Artevelde.