[454] The utter dispersal of accumulated family and household treasures has had a sad illustration in the loads of Turkish and Slav embroideries which have flooded the markets of Europe since the Russo-Turkish war. Work, treasured for generations, sold for a piece of bread, robbed from the deserted home or the bazaar, stolen from the dying or the dead. These are so suggestive of the horrors of war, and touch us so nearly in connection with the rights and wrongs of the Eastern question, that they cause us more pain than pleasure when we study these beautiful specimens of well-blended colours and designs, that show their Aryan (Persian or Indian) origin. Lady Layard’s residence in Constantinople was, perhaps, the “happy accident” which will have preserved the secrets and practice of this work for future generations, by her active and generous institution of a working organization for the poor exiled and starving women, and for the sale of their work in England.
[455] Semper, “Der Stil,” i. p. 30, § 10.
[456] This subject has been ably treated in the Introduction to “La Tapisserie,” by Eug. Müntz; Paris, 1885.
[457] I refer to the chapter on “[English Embroideries]” for the parsemé patterns of our mediæval hangings, and to the section on [tapestry] in the chapter on “[Stitches].”
[458] “Renaissance in Italy,” J. A. Symonds, p. 4.
[459] But to this rule there are notable exceptions, of which Charles the Bold’s hangings for his tent (now at Berne) furnish a brilliant example. Here the Order of the Golden Fleece is repeated on a field of flowers, exquisitely designed.
[460] “Life of Jeanne d’Albret,” by Miss Freer, pp. 68, 123, 330.