Note that with few exceptions the fringe and selvedge on a rug were not made for beauty but for protection. When the fringe is ropy, long, or uneven, or the selvedge eaten into or ragged, do not leave the rug to its unkemptness, but trim it religiously. A man should have his hair cut and put in order at proper times; and the propriety of this observance is commonly preached on very many prayer rugs, where the comb is prominently pictured, to remind the devout that “cleanliness is next to godliness.” Indeed, the comb in various forms is so common a feature in the angular arch of most prayer rugs that its suggestiveness almost detracts from their beauty. The counsel is most persistent.
Even the clean white fringe of a fine Persian is often so long as to need clipping. Two inches or so is a plenty. If more is left, the strings only curl under and show a ragged and broken line, and the rug never appears trim and orderly.
When the selvedge is gone, and the end borders or sides of the rug itself are encroached upon and sawed by the tooth of Time, more than half of the value and beauty of the piece is lost; but to preserve its usefulness it should be overcast and further damage prevented. Never buy a rug as a perfect or even choice specimen if any border at the sides or ends is gone beyond repair. Every border should have its corresponding end, and vice versa, or the piece is imperfect. Selvedge is of slight importance, but, like a woman’s skirts or a man’s trousers, it is unforgivable if worn or frayed. The side edges which are otherwise still perfect are apt to become more or less ragged with wear. That is a detail, if the borders themselves are intact; and the edges only need overcasting before it is too late.
When the good housewife has the rugs and carpets beaten, let it be done on the grass, if possible, and not when they are hung on a line and so allowed to break with their own weight. Also let the severity of the beating be tempered with kindness and discretion. In winter, sweeping with snow will clean and brighten them most wonderfully.
This whole matter of cleaning is a neglected science and worthy of a thesis all to itself. The face of a rug will stand the slapping which is its usual punishment for being dirty; but do not forget, in the end, to stroke it, with the nap, and so soothe its feelings. Do not beat a rug or carpet on the back. That has no defence of nap, and you are liable to break the warp and loosen the knots. Frequent sweeping is far better than the brutality of constant beating. The wool of a rug is really a sentient thing. However dead it may seem, it has a life and vitality all its own. It can be quickened, rejuvenated, and made alive again by proper washing.
Rugs in our modern houses easily accumulate dust and grime and smoke. But it is absurd to think that a rug is antique because it is dirty; or, more foolish still, that because it is dirty it is both antique and beautiful. Wash some of your treasures and you will wonder at their real glory and colour. Generally speaking, every rug should be washed about once a year. It is the Oriental custom; and carpets there are otherwise kept much cleaner than with us, by reason of many usages and observances. That the Orientals wash their rugs in cold water is not so. Wherever and whenever their laundering is done, the water is as warm as can be had, naturally.
Milady washes her laces with her own fair hands, and delights in the task. The rug collector will do well, perhaps, to follow her example; except for the tender specimens, which must needs do without it, and the carpets, which are unmanageable. At all events, he will do wisely not to send his valued specimens to the ordinary carpet-cleaner. They may come back expurgated, but some virtue has gone out of them. The wool has lost its oil and life.
It is hardly within the province of this volume to prescribe the exact methods of washing. Wool soap will do wonders, it being always remembered to stroke softly with the nap, while the rug is drying. In Kurdistan and neighbouring provinces the rugs are first soaked in milk of some kind and then rinsed, cleaned, and rubbed dry. The milk gives back to the wool its essential oil, and it becomes at once soft, shining, silky, and alive with glowing colour. This process, simple as it is, is kept as a profound secret by the few who know it in this country. Another Eastern method is to rub the rug with a mixture of rice-meal and oil, but the first recipe is by far the better.
Rugs must be cared for particularly as to moths. When they are in general use the moth will not corrupt, rust, or break through and steal, as may be paraphrased from the Scriptures. The criminal indictment against the moth in this regard cannot be drawn too strongly. He is the collector’s great enemy, because he destroys. Age and even wear only ripen the perfections of fine modern pieces. Carpets and rugs stored, or laid aside, are not mothproof, wherever they may be; unless they are treated as in the great wholesale houses, where they are lifted and moved once a week and protected with the odorous moth-ball.
When rugs have to be moved and packed frequently they should be folded differently each time, and not always in the same creases. Otherwise, wear and tear will soon show in the folds. For many obvious reasons they always should be folded away with the nap inside.