Part 3 (1/2)
CHAPTER V.
NEEDLEWORK OF THE GREEKS AND ROMANS.
”------Supreme Sits the virtuous housewife, The tender mother-- O'er the circle presiding, And prudently guiding; The girls gravely schooling, The boys wisely ruling; Her hands never ceasing From labours increasing; And doubling his gains With her orderly pains.
With piles of rich treasure the storehouse she spreads, And winds round the loud-whirring spindle her threads: She winds--till the bright-polish'd presses are full Of the snow-white linen and glittering wool: Blends the brilliant and solid in constant endeavour, And resteth never.”
J. H. Merivale.
It was an admitted opinion amongst the cla.s.sical nations of antiquity, that no less a personage than Minerva herself, ”a maiden affecting old fas.h.i.+ons and formality,” visited earth to teach her favourite nation the mysteries of those implements which are called ”the arms of every virtuous woman;” viz. the distaff and spindle. In the use of these the Grecian dames were particularly skilled; in fact, spinning, weaving, needlework, and embroidery, formed the chief occupation of those whose rank exonerated them, even in more primitive days, from the menial drudgery of a household.
The Greek females led exceedingly retired lives, being far more charily admitted to a share of the recreations of the n.o.bler s.e.x than we of these privileged days. The ancient Greeks were very magnificent--very: magnificent senators, magnificent warriors, magnificent men; but they were a people trained from the cradle for exhibition and publicity; domestic life was quite cast into the shade.
Consequently and necessarily their women were thrown to greater distance, till it happened, naturally enough, that they seemed to form a distinct community; and apartments the most distant and secluded that the mansion afforded were usually a.s.signed to them. Of these, in large establishments, certain ones were always appropriated to the labours of the needle.
”Je ne dirai” (says the sarcastic author of Anacharsis) ”qu'un mot sur l'education des filles. Suivant la difference des etats, elles apprennent a lire, ecrire, coudre, filer, preparer la laine dont on fait les vetemens, et veiller aux soins du menage. En general, les meres exhortent leurs filles a se conduire avec sagesse; mais elles insistent beaucoup plus sur la necessite de se tenir droites, d'effacer leurs epaules, de serrer leur sein avec un large ruban, d'etre extremement sobres, et de prevenir, par toutes sortes de moyens, un embonpoint qui nuirait a l'elegance de la taille et a la grace des mouvemens.”
Homer, the great fountain of ancient lore, scarcely throughout his whole work names a female, Greek or Trojan, but as connected naturally and indissolubly with this feminine occupation--needlework. Thus, when Chryses implores permission to ransome his daughter, Agamemnon wrathfully replies--
”I will not loose thy daughter, till old age Find her far distant from her native soil, Beneath my roof in Argos, at her task Of tissue-work.”
And Iris, the ”amba.s.sadress of Heaven,” finds Helen in her own recess--
”----weaving there a gorgeous web, Inwrought with fiery conflicts, for her sake Wag'd by contending nations.”
Hector foreseeing the miseries consequent upon the destruction of Troy, says to Andromache--
”But no grief So moves me as my grief for thee alone, Doom'd then to follow some imperious Greek, A weeping captive, to the distant sh.o.r.es Of Argos; there to labour at the loom For a taskmistress.”
And again he says to her--
”Hence, then, to our abode; there weave or spin, And task thy maidens.”
And afterwards--
”Andromache, the while, Knew nought, nor even by report had learn'd Her Hector's absence in the field alone.
She in her chamber at the palace-top A splendid texture wrought, on either side All dazzling bright with flow'rs of various hues.”
Though ”Penelope's web” is become a proverb, it would be unpardonable here to omit specific mention of it. Antinous thus complains of her:--
”Elusive of the bridal day, she gives Fond hope to all, and all with hope deceives.
Did not the Sun, through heaven's wide azure roll'd, For three long years the royal fraud behold?
While she, laborious in delusion, spread The s.p.a.cious loom, and mix'd the various thread; Where, as to life the wondrous figures rise, Thus spoke th' inventive queen with artful sighs:-- 'Though cold in death Ulysses breathes no more, Cease yet a while to urge the bridal hour; Cease, till to great Laertes I bequeath A task of grief, his ornaments of death.
Lest, when the Fates his royal ashes claim, The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame: When he, whom living mighty realms obey'd, Shall want in death a shroud to grace his shade.'
Thus she: At once the generous train complies, Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue's fair disguise.
The work she plied; but, studious of delay, By night revers'd the labours of the day.