Let us now consider, in all its opulence and refinement, the state bed. Swain describes how “Of all the articles of furniture, beds were the most important during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries” (1970:23). Reflecting its importance, beds and their trappings are usually listed first in household inventories (Swain 1970). In the best
houses, Elizabethan beds were furnished with cloth of gold, cloth of silver, velvet, or silk
damask, and often embellished with applique embroidery and lace fringes
(Digby 1963). Households
of lesser means usually employed woollen cloth or linen, “often ‘passemented’
or trimmed with braid and fringes” (Digby 1963:118) in emulation of other adornment. Expanding on her earlier point, Swain writes,
“The state bed, for royalty or nobility, must have been an imposing
affair with sumptuous hangings, a suitable stage for birth and death,
and the furnishings, the tester and valances, the curtains, coverings,
mattress and bolster, are often described in surprising detail” (Swain
1970:23). Digby concurs, adding that “the furnishing of a bed in one of the state rooms of a great house was often the most expensive part of the furniture, as inventories and accounts show” (Digby 1963:118). During his travels, Paul Hentzner wrote of having seen at Windsor Castle the beds which rested Henry VII, Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn, and Edward VI measuring at 11 square feet “‘and covered with quilts shining with gold and silver; Queen Elizabeth’s bed, with curious coverings of embroidery, but not quite so long and large..’” (Digby 1963:118). Certainly, we can be grateful for any written description history entails, since many aspects of these beds fail to endure the weathering of time.
The Blue Bed made for Christian Cavendish (1595-1675) at Hardwick Hall.
The tapestries in the background depict the gods and planets.
Photograph by Nadia McKenzie. Image courtesy of the National Trust.
Luckily, of the beds which saw to the comfort of Mary Queen of Scots and her retinue, much has been written. In a 1561 inventory, the listed items include a staggering eleven "'Beddis maid in Broderie'" (Swain 1970:24), nearly all outfitted with velvet, cloth of gold, or a combination of gold and silver, and two featured a ground of multicoloured satin (Digby 1963). Included in this inventory was one set of pands (a set of valances only), which are described as being embroidered with phoenixes of gold and falling tears, visual allusions to her mother Mary of Guise and her mother-in-law Catherine de Medici, whose impresas featured these motifs (Swain 1970). Additionally, the inventory lists three "'passmentit beds'", indicating that the trimmings of these bed furnishings had been ornamented with braid, or gold or silver lace (Swain 1970:23-24). There were also five "'plain beds of taffetas, velvet and damask'" and eleven "'auld Beddis'" adorned with salvaged pieces of tapestry, or sewed with silk on a worsted wool ground (Swain 1970:23-24). Of all the beds listed, only these humble beds featured any wool to speak of (Digby 1963).
The bedroom of Mary Queen of Scots during the years of her freedom, Holyrood House.
Image courtesy of the Official Website of the British Monarchy.
Some of these beds were even informally named by way of description; there was, of course, the Bed of Amitie, for which an order was issued in October of 1566 calling for 12 ells of violet taffeta for the making of the bedcover (Swain 1970). Among Mary's belongings, there was also a bed of crimson velvet “enriched with love knots" and the embellished Roman numerals II, perhaps in reference to her first husband Francis II, as well as a bed “‘maid in broderie work of gold of the historie of the Workis of Hercules’” (Swain 1970:24). The latter of these two beds was housed at Hampton Court (Swain 1970). One bed, likely from Linlithgow, sported an embroidered curtain in black velvet applique and outlined using yellow silk cord, worked over in silk thread using satin stitch on a red woollen cloth ground (Digby 1963). This curtain showed a bold pattern depicting pineapples, carnations, and “tree-like sprays of flowers spring[ing] from the backs of lions” (Digby 1963:119). Then there is, of course, the legendary bed described by William Drummond of Hawthornden in his 1619 letter to Ben Jonson, a bed believed to be owned by the late Queen Mary and embroidered all over with gold and silk, showing the impresas of her self, her mother, King Henry II of France, Henry's successor and her husband King Francis II, her uncle the Cardinal of Lorraine, her other uncle King Henry VIII, the Duke of Savoy (as to which one, the letter does not say), and countless other impresas and emblems (Digby 1963)
The Mary Queen of Scots Room at Hardwick Hall (note: it is almost entirely certain that this erroneously named room never housed Mary Queen of Scots).
Photograph by Nick Guttridge. Image courtesy of the National Trust.
Additionally, there are a number of beds (or bed fragments, as the case may be) surviving at Hardwick Hall, where Mary spent part of her period of prolonged captivity (Swain 1970). One surviving set of bed furnishings, “‘imbroidered with needlework flowares’” on
canvas worked during the 16th century, was remounted on black velvet in the
19th century (Black and Kaye 1986:89) for the sake of preservation. A second set shows canvas work dated to the 1620s, remounted on a 19th century ground of blue damask (Black and Kaye 1986).
Following the death of her husband, Catherine de Medici had made up a mourning bed (Lefebure 1888). It is described in written accounts penned after her death in 1589 as “‘a bed of black velvet, embroidered with pearls, powdered with crescents and suns, a foot-board, and head-board, nine valances, a coverlet of state similarly bedecked with crescents and suns, three damask curtains, with leafy wreaths and garlands figured upon a gold-and-silver ground, and fringed along the edges with broderies of pearls'” (Lefebure 1888:132). These crescents are likely a reference to the impresa of her dearly departed husband, King Henry II, who took as his visual signifier the crescent moon (Digby 1963). This is an action that boggles the modern mind; we think of the marital bed, but this seems quite the opposite. Who sleeps in the mourning bed, the mourner? Or is it left empty in memory of the departed?
The bedroom of Diane de Poitiers at the Chateau de Chenonceau..
Image courtesy of France Voyage.
All in all, what did these bed furnishings include? Indeed, there were the curtains, which were practically necessitated by a cold environment (Swain 1970). Four poster beds retained their use in Scotland and Northern England well into the 19th century (Swain 1970)
.
.
Ireton Bed at Packwood House, featuring 17th century needlework on the bed curtains, coverlet, cushions and stools.
Photo by Keith Hewitt. Image courtesy of the National Trust.
Above the curtains, there were the valances, which hang around the three exposed sides of the roof of the bed (Swain 1970). Valances, which could be contiguous, were usually divided into three pieces that vary in size in accordance with the dimensions of the bed (Digby 1963). Valances are generally better preserved than curtains, since they were lined and they were spared the wear and tear of frequent use (Swain 1970). In some cases, valances were made to match the coverlet and headboard (Digby 1963), although since they were enduring, they could be carried over (as the pands in Mary's inventories show). Digby points out that “as these valances hung fairly rigidly they formed a frieze which was particularly suitable for embroidery with figure subjects” (1963:134). According to Swain, valances from Scotland in the 16th century can be categorized according to three thematic trends (1970). There were Biblical scenes, designs which featured a tree with a heraldic animal at the base, and the final category showing mythological scenes and Genre scenes depicting courtiers attired in French costume (Swain 1970). This last fashion, particularly the francophile proclivity, was likely introduced by Mary (Digby 1963). Often these figures have been worked into hunting scenes and other idyllic renditions of rural life (Digby 1963). Of the mythological scenes, Ovid's Metamorphoses was a particularly popular source of inspiration (Digby 1963).
Late 16th century English valance, wool and silk embroidered on canvas. Courtiers and religious figures.
Image courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
These valances appear to have been worked in a variety of stitches, which seems reasonable given that they were lined (which would not necessitate the reversible aesthetic of a curtain, which might be seen from both sides) and durable. As a personal observation, it appears as though tent stitch (especially on canvas) was a popular choice for objects which would see daily use, such as cushions, while a greater variety of stitches is exhibited in objects with better preservation and gentler handling, such as caskets -- the bedspread being a possible exception.
Late 16th century Scottish or British valance depicting Adam and Eve.
Canvas ground with silk, wool, and gilt thread worked in chain, tent, split, and straight stitched with an applied gold braid.
Image courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
The bedspread was known as a coverlet. Few Elizabethan bed coverlets have survived, but they usually matched other bed hangings, and like these, they often wore out through continual use (Digby 1963). For example, of the Hardwick furnishings, two small segments of a few bed coverlets survive, showing a similar design and employing "contiguous compartments set with floral motifs" with each fragment sporting a different border (Digby 1963:104). These coverlets were apparently multiuse objects, since some were used as hangings; the Hardwick inventory lists under the belongings of “'My Ladie’s Bed Chamber'” “‘a coverlett to hang before a dore… thre coverlets to hang before a windowe… a counterpoynt of tapestrie before an other dore’” (Digby 1963:106), so the applications of a coverlet or tapestry were really quite varied, being put to many uses and salvaged for use on other objects. A fine example of a coverlet can be seen in the enigmatic Shepherd's Buss, featuring its many “emblems and rebus devices” (Digby 1963:105). Digby, who considers it a possible contender for a bedcover of unusual dimensions, points out that “the subject of the design is tantalizing and still has not been satisfactorily explained” (Digby 1963:105). It bears the initials K.B., which has been attributed to Kalendrier des Bergers by Guy Marchant (Digby 1963), but its authorship is also more or less unknown. The central scene of this incredible piece is enclosed within an oval sincribed with the phrase “Di di in di vo cangiando il pelo e il mio miserabile viso" (Digby 1963:106), which apparently from Italian makes some reference to misery and changes of appearance. In the spandrels outside of this oval framing device are four emblems taken from Paradin’s emblem book Les Devices Heroqiues (Digby 1963). Otherwise, this well preserved specimen is a complete mystery.
Image courtesy of the Victoria and Albert Museum.
Pillows were covered in either plain or embroidered pillow beres, which were commonly among the proffered gifts granted the Queen on News Year’s day, and frequently were ornamented with silk on white linen (Digby 1963). Although these pillow beres bore similar dimensions to Elizabethan cushions (an average of 40" by 20" or 22"), they were distinct from cushions in that they often lacked a border (Digby 1963). Additionally, they provided a suitable medium for display of the famous Elizabethan blackwork (Digby 1963). Fun fact: in 1602, at Durham House in London, in the dead of night on April 1st, “'Thomas Nicholls yeoman and John Moore Taylor alias John West yeoman, both late of London, broke burglariously into the dwelling-house of Sir Walter Raleighe knight in the said parish, and stole therefrom two linen pillowbeeres… fitted with silke and golde worth £10, a linen cushinge cloth adorned with silk and gold worth £5…’” (Digby 1963:130). I assume it was not taken from the bed in which he slept, unless -- hilariously -- it was, in which case (no pun intended) I assume he woke up yelling, "Curse you Thomas Nicholls and John Moore Taylor alis John West, yeoman, respectively!"
English pillow cover dating to 1592. Linen embroidered with silk and gilt thread, commemorating the marriage of Bernard Grenville and Elizabeth Beville.
Image courtesy of The Victoria and Albert Museum.
So how was the accomplished needlewoman to outfit such a richly bedecked bed? Well, of course, there were professionals, but Swain answers the tedium with variety. Variety in colours and in stitching, and “This love of variety for its own sake, in colours, or in stitches ... is characteristic of all domestic embroidery in Britain, as if the needlewoman were obliged to relieve the tedium of working a large piece by trying the effect of a new colour combination, or a new stitch” (Swain 1970:38). Readily can I attest to this, since the only thing that seems to bolster my perseverance when working a piece as large as mine. Having lately shaded in the majority of the hippocamp's body, and tiring of the endless array of short and long stitch -- which requires no small amount of mental input, since I must carefully consider both the angle of the stitch to work a contour as well as the uniform length and spacing of each stitch, I have returned to couching the waves. Since couching requires no especial concentration, as I am now simply in-filling large pre-determined segments, it makes for a nice reprieve.
Sources Cited
Black, David, and Raymond Kaye, eds.
1986 The Royal School of Needlework Book of Needlework and Embroidery. London, England: The Oregon Press.
Digby, George Wingfield
1963 Elizabethan Embroidery. London, England: Faber and Faber.
Lefebure, Ernest
1888 Embroidery and Lace: Their Manufacture and History from the Remotest Antiquity to the Present Day: A Handbook for Amateurs, Collectors, and General Readers. Alan Cole, trans. London, England: H. Grebel and Co.
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