Romsey Abbey

In 907 Edward the Elder founded a nunnery at Romsey. His daughter, Elfleda, became its first abbess. The nunnery was rebounded some sixty years later after a period of decline by King Edgar who established a group of Benedictine nuns there. Not that it was all plain sailing- the Danes attacked it once in 993 forcing the nuns to seek sanctuary in Winchester. When they returned, the nunnery was rebuilt from stone and the nuns continued to welcome the daughters of kings and nobles so that they might be educated.

By 1086, another Saxon princess was abbess at Romsey. Edward the Exile’s daughter, Christina, who originally went into exile with her sister Margaret to Scotland was at Romsey. Also in residence, receiving a royal education, were her nieces Edith and Mary. Edith would eventually become Henry I’s wife and take the name Matilda. The nuns continued to thrive during the Norman period. Between 1120 and 1140 work began on the current building including the choir, transepts and a Lady Chapel. The nave which was created at this time was extended between 1150 and 1180.

The nunnery was not without its scandals. In 1160, the abbess, Mary (a daughter of King Stephen) left her post to marry a son of the Earl of Flanders by whom she had two daughters before, according to Matthew Paris, returning to the abbey.

In 1349 the Black Death wrought havoc. At the end, only nineteen of the nuns remained. But the end came in the sixteenth century with the dissolution of the monasteries. The abbey church was saved because it became Romsey’s parish church when the town paid Henry VIII’s commissioners £100.

It means that today, despite damage done during the English Civil War, that the church is a beautiful example of Norman architecture with some wonderful Saxon features remaining, including a Saxon rood (cross) inside the church and an even older eleventh century one outside the building. There is also a capital depicting King Alfred’s victory over the Vikings at the Battle of Edington. The sixteenth century reredos screen, that was once on display behind the altar, was removed after 1539 and repurposed, surviving the destruction that occurred in many other churches at the time. Also among the survivals is a fifteenth century cope that was later turned into an altar cloth. It is made from Italian green velvet with hand embroidered stars of silver thread.

A more recent and no less beautiful addition is the Florence Nightingale window which was installed in 2020.

Bayeux stitch – laying and couching with wool thread.

It’s also called laid and couched work and it was something I looked at when exploring the development of Opus Anglicanum. I have grown to like the stitch very much.No thread is wasted on the back of the design unlike satin stitch which uses as much thread on the back as the front. I’m less keen on the wool which unravels if you pull it too hard – though that might have more to do with me than the wool.

The most famous example of this type of work is the Bayeux Tapestry, hence the name but it was used for household items and to decorate clothes. My example, is taken from Tanya Bentham – and if you check you will notice that I have not yet embroidered little scales made from stitched circles on the dragon’s leg – mainly because it turns out I’m not good at circles. I also have some pressing to do- so I’d probably be lucky to be allowed to sweep the floor in a medieval embroidery workshop. However, I’ve enjoyed doing it and am pleased with the end product.

With the passage of time different kinds of stitches became popular. Crewel work also uses wool threads but it is much simpler than the intricate style of Opus Anglicanum. As with everything, it goes through phases of popularity. I rather like this modern take on crewel work -designed by Nichola Jarvis. It took a lot less time to complete that the laid and couched work although it potentially looks as though it should have taken longer… and yes this one needs pressing as well.

And that leads me to Beverley Minster. When I visited last year there was a set of embroidered panels on display telling the story of St John of Beverley. I rather liked the combination of fabric and stitched patterns.

The Fishmongers’ Pall

I Spy Couching Stitch | PieceWork

The Fishmonger’s Pall was made specifically for the merchant’s guild, for use at the funeral of company members as the beginning of the sixteenth century . It is made from Italian cloth of gold and the four side panels which are linen are embroidered with silver gilt and silks. Unsurprisingly the embroidery has a ‘fishy’ theme. St Peter – the fisherman, appears at the top and bottom ends of the pall and there’s a mermaid and a merman as well as dolphins and the guild’s coat of arms. It was described in 1862 by the Gentleman’s Magazine as ‘perhaps as perfect a specimen of the various processes go embroidery as could be found anywhere, and the magnificent piece of cloth of gold and velvet forming the centre should be carefully noticed.’ (Vol 213, p.38).

Mermaid on Fishmonger's Pall embroidered with gold and silver wire

There is an awful lot of gold work in evidence. The couching creates density and texture while the embroidered figures composed of split stitches, satin stitches and brick stitch among others tell a story of immortality and a Christian soul on its journey to heaven -even the peacock feathers sported by the angels around St Peter speak of immortality and peacocks symbolise immortality because their feathers return better than ever each year. There are peacock feathers on the Toledo Cape as well – a reminder perhaps that just as the imogees and emoticons of today as readable there was an entire visual language of religion and belief which began to drain away with the Reformation. Perhaps just as important, the whole thing shouts abut the prestige of the Fishmonger’s Guild.

I Spy Couching Stitch | PieceWork

The embroiderer even used different kinds of gold thread to create the density of texture. Most gold thread was linen wrapped in sliver gilt ‘foil’ but they have also used drawn wires called ‘damask gold’ which doesn’t appear before the fourteenth century and purl thread which is a twisted coil of wire. It adds greater dimension to the coat of arms and crown. The embroideries themselves have a three dimensional look because there are padded areas that have been embroidered across. The mirror even shows a reflection because of the way that the silver thread surface of the mirror has been couched. For more information about embroidery stitches used on the pall follow http://www.zenzietinker.co.uk/opus-anglicanum/ which will open in a new tab. It also offers some excellent close up images of the pall.

Panel from the fishmonger's pall featuring a mermaid and merman worked in goldwork embroidery.

The fishmongers’ pall is not the only one in existence but it is certainly the finest because of the depth of its embroideries and the finesse with which the shading has been applied – it certainly has to make you wonder what was destroyed at the time of England’s Reformation. And it also goes to show that the Reformation took something of a toll on an industry that had thrived throughout the medieval period. The embroidery on the Fishmongers’ Pall have depth and nuance that develop the earlier forms, even though the themes and images may be the same.

V and A, English Medieval Embroidery Opus Anglicanum (London and New Haven: Yale University Press)

Embroidery for horses

Who would have thought that embroidery was something that an armourer might worry about? Clearly Sir Geoffrey Luttrell pictured at the start of the post would have understood. Records show that artists were commissioned to paint various flags and horse trappings for jousts – much less expensive than employing a posse of embroiderers and quicker as well. These might be stencilled or stamped, especially if many of the same thing was required.

Sir Geoffrey’s horse seems to be covered from the end of his ears to his tail. This item is a caparison or even a trapper. Clearly it was so that the audience at a joust was able to recognise each of the contestants and they clearly had their value on ceremonial occasions. Quilted caparisons became popular during the crusades as a practical part of its protection from arrows. The horse might also be equipped with a chainmail trapper – in which case a cloth draped over the mail also helped the horse not to overheat.

If embroidery was needed, the design might be hand drawn and then stitched. Layers might be appliquéd and then embroidered. The British Museum is home to the remnants of en embroidered medieval horse trapping showing the arms of William of Fortibus, Earl of Albemarle (d. 1260). The Museé de Cluny holds some fourteenth century horse trappings manufactured in England on a ground of red velvet depicting lions. These are heavily embroidered with gilt thread and date from the reign of Edward III. Records of heraldic horse-wear can be found in many royal account books of the medieval period including royal armourers records and the royal wardrobe accounts.

Alternative sources of information about what the well-dressed-medieval-horse-about-town was wearing include Froissart’s Chronicles which depict decorated horse trappings from the fifteenth century while Les Tres Riches Heures depicts 14th century trappings. I may admit to looking forward to revisiting several of my Books of Hours texts to see how much embroidery I can spot in the illustrations. Elaborate illustrations reveal tassels, as well as jagged or leaf like edges. The same illustrations depict decorative reins. Of course, my difficulty is then to find the associated images to illustrate this post…we’ll start with Froissart and the French jousts of St Ingelvert and the Salisbury Museum’s medieval illustration of a horse harness not to mention a rather wonderful tasselled saddle cloth which is just visible.

Now – I will admit that I didn’t think that I would travel seamlessly from a post about cope chests to another linked by embroidery threads and appliqué to caparisons!

Papal preference for English embroidery and pattern books

Pope Innocent IV AnonymousUnknown author, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Matthew Paris, who wrote the Chronica Major, recorded in 1246 that the Pope Innocent IV had noticed that English bishops and priests were well kitted out with copes and mitres embroidered with gold thread in the ‘most desirable fashion’. Having discovered their source and described England as a ‘garden of delights’ the pope write to the abbots of the Cistercian order and demanded similar payment for himself, noting that he rather liked the gold work. By 1295 the Vatican had more than 100 vestments described as Opus Anglicanum and the English royal family had found a new and well received gift for the Holy Father of the day and nothing about the robes and vestments were cheap.

The Ascoli Cope at Ascoli Piceno, Italy belonged to Pope Gregory X and is a fine example of English work. It was a gift to him from King Edward I who also gave Nicholas IV and Boniface VIII lots of lovely embroidered goodies.

Survivals across Europe depict some of the richness of the vestments, not to mention the skills of the embroiderers. Samuel Pepys better known for his diaries and love of a buxom wench than his historical interest left papers to Magdalene College, Cambridge which included a book of drawings dating from the fourteenth and fifteenth century, including pattern sheets for medieval glaziers – there are designs for animals and birds, people, angels, the Virgin Mary, and various decorative motifs. During the Victorian period the idea that the designs might have been used for embroiderers was discounted but the images on Gothic stained glass windows are echoed by the glittering vestments worn by the clergy.

The idea behind a model book is that all the creative crafts could draw from the same designs and adapted according to the craft whether it was embroidery, window manufacture or illuminated manuscripts. You name the decorative craft – the chances are that a model book would have been useful, especially if you wanted to create the same design on several occasions – which would help reduce production time. Not everyone could afford to arrange for an artist or illustrator to draw the design on the fabric before it was embroidered.

The Göttingen Model Book which dates to about 1450 provides instruction on penmanship and illustration for the creation of foliage – which could be adapted by embroiderers. Just as today the model books were designed to help artisans learn a skill. Seven year apprenticeships were based on observation and ‘learning on the job’ but model and pattern books were essential for the transmission of images. They would also have been helpful for wealthy patrons who wanted to commission vestments. And, by the fourteenth century wealthy patrons wanted their own clothes richly embroidered as well.

It was really only during the sixteenth century that pattern books became widely available – and lets face it anyone who could afford it decorated everything that could be stitched but by then the heyday of English work was over.

Ascoli Cope, early 20th century (original dated 13th century) Italian, Watercolor on paper; 24 1/2 × 49 in. (62.2 × 124.5 cm) Framed: 26 in. × 50 7/8 in. × 1 1/2 in. (66 × 129.2 × 3.8 cm) The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Gift of J. Pierpont Morgan, 1906 (06.1313) http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/462871