Nothing that has been told of Princess Henry of Battenberg has brought her so near to the hearts of the poor as the piece of news that "when she is in sorrow or perplexity she is greatly soothed by sitting down and sewing a long seam." It is something they can understand and appreciate, for it is most likely the very thing they themselves would do in like circumstances.
It has been of no slight benefit to us women and girls that our queens and princesses should have been good needlewomen, for we are, to a great extent, influenced by the daily life of those in high places; indeed, the influence of queens upon their women subjects has always been noticeable; their personal and private character, their passions and prejudices, are always more or less reflected in the women of the kingdom.
Proficiency in the art of needlework is by no means confined to the great ladies of our nation, for we hear that the princesses in the Court of Charlemagne were splendid needlewomen, and the work of Bertha, wife of Rudolph the Second of Burgundy, has a world-wide fame. She is represented on seals and monuments of her time as sitting on the throne spinning, and even when out riding continuing her work. In the old town of Payerne Canton de Freiburg, a residence of the kings of Burgundy, her bones, together with those of her husband and son, Conrad, were discovered in 1817 below the tower of the old church which she herself had built, and they were buried in the parish church, where the Queen's saddle is shown with a hole for her distaff. To this day the expression is used, as a regretful allusion to the good old times, "ce n'est pas le temps où Berthe filait."
Gisela, also, the wife of St. Stephen, king of Hungary, was a splendid needlewoman, and organised embroidery work-rooms near her palace.
The mother of Charles the Bold and Adelaide the Consort of Hugh Capet were also celebrated needlewomen.
Even nations far removed from civilisation have not been ignorant of needlework, as the discovery of gold needles, etc., in the Scandinavian tumuli testify.
To come back to our own country, the palm is certainly accorded to the Anglo-Saxon ladies for excellence in this womanly accomplishment. We have proof that those of rank and royal blood were skilled not only in the use of the needle for necessary purposes but also in elegant and intricate embroidery.
The fleece which was brought home by the Anglo-Saxon men in summer was spun into clothing by the female part of each family during the winter.
Alfred the Great in his will calls the women-part of his family the spindle side, and it was understood by our forefathers that no young woman was fit to be a wife till she had spun for herself a set of body, table and bed linen; this is why the maiden was called a spinner or spinster, and the married woman a wife or one who has been a spinner (from Anglo-Saxon wif, the verb being wyfan or wifan, to weave). Perhaps you have noticed that the armorial bearings of women are not painted on a shield like those of men but on a spindle called a lozenge. The spindle half is a Saxon term for the female line, while the spear half is the male side.
Among the Anglo-Saxon ladies Adelfleda and her three sisters, daughters of Edward the Elder, stand out as famous for their skill in all kinds of needlework, and are known in history as cunning workers.