Perhaps the handkerchief immortalized by Drummond of Hawthornden, embroidered for him by the beautiful Lesbia to whom he was betrothed, was likewise ominous, for she died “in the fresh April of her years,” and the handkerchief she gave him was steeped in tears at her loss.
Calderon says:
“She gave me too a handkerchief—a spell—
A flattering pledge, my hopes to animate,
An astrologic favor, fatal prize
That told too true what tears must wipe these eyes.”
The significance of the handkerchief is referred to in Horace Walpole’s letters: “Lord Tavistock has flung his handkerchief to Lady Elizabeth Keppel. They all go to Woburn on Thursday, and the ceremony is to be performed as soon as her brother, the bishop, can arrive from Exeter.”
Miss Strickland tells us that when Anne Boleyn dropped her handkerchief from the balcony at the feet of Henry Norris, the latter, heated from the part he had just been taking in the jousts, took it up, presumptuously wiped his face with it, and then returned it to the queen on the point of his lance. At this, King Henry changed color, abruptly retired in a fury of jealousy, and gave orders for the arrest of the queen and of all who were suspected of being favored by her. It proved a fatal handkerchief to him also, for he was soon after executed.
The handkerchief may be regarded as one of the great indications of civilization. Though the Celestials have not yet arrived at this climax, and still carry their small sheets of delicate paper as a substitute, but which possess no moral significance whatever, so far as we know, more refined nations have made its use universal. Even the poorest may whip out of his pocket, in these days, not that red cotton flag of abomination that used to offend the sight, but one of pure white linen, betokening a higher state of cultivation.
We are quite well aware that the handkerchief is, notwithstanding, a luxury some of the laboring classes reserve for Sundays and high festivals, which alone should invest the article with a quasi sanctity, associated as it is with religious observances. With what careful deliberation such an one draws it forth from the receptacle devoted to its use! With what a tremulous awkwardness he applies it, as though he were making an unaccustomed experiment; or losing his caution, perhaps he charges with desperation, like Miss Wix, one of whose peculiarities was that she always blew her nose as if it belonged to an enemy! And how carefully it is refolded and returned to the secret depository. What heaps of “wipes” the astonished Oliver Twist saw in the Jew’s den, and all so badly marked, too, that the stitches had to be picked out!
We cannot help rejoicing over the handkerchief the Artful Dodger drew from Mr. Brownlow’s pocket which led to such a change in Oliver’s fortunes.
The handkerchief is an important article in many a romance, as well as in real life. Tears more touching than those of Mr. Mantalini have brought it into requisition. If all the handkerchiefs in the world could tell their experience, how many a sad tale they would unfold!—We cannot help regarding Adam and Eve with the deepest commiseration without a handkerchief between them, as hand in hand through Eden they took their solitary way. What bitter tears poor Eve shed!—but those that fell on the ground were turned into roses, and those that dropped into the water were changed into pearls, as ours too will be shown not wholly lost at some future day.
Many a hero’s bleeding wounds have been bound up by the handkerchief of some Sister of Charity on the battle-field, and many such handkerchiefs have been sent as sacred remembrances to dear ones at home, ensanguined like that Orlando sent his Rosalind, but, alas! not always so happy an omen.