flowers (point plat), and those of an inferior quality.
When, in 1756, Mrs. Calderwood visited the Béguinage at Brussels, she wrote to a friend describing the lace-making. "A part of their work is grounding lace; the manufacture is very curious. One person works the flowers. They are all sold separate, and you will see a very pretty sprig, for which the worker only gets twelve sous. The masters who have all these people employed give them the thread to make them; this they do according to a pattern, and give them out to be grounded; after this they give them to a third hand, who 'hearts' all the flowers with the open work. That is what makes this lace so much dearer than the Mechlin, which is wrought all at once."[337]
The thread used in Brussels lace is of extraordinary fineness. It is made of flax grown in Brabant, at Hal and Rebecq-Rognon.[338] The finest quality is spun in dark underground rooms, for contact with the dry air causes the thread to break, so fine is it as almost to escape the sight. The feel of the thread as it passes through the fingers is the surest guide. The thread-spinner closely examines every inch drawn from her distaff, and when any inequality occurs stops her wheel to repair the mischief. Every artificial help is given to the eye. A background of dark paper is placed to throw out the thread, and the room so arranged as to admit one single ray of light upon the work. The life of a Flemish thread-spinner is unhealthy, and her work requires the greatest skill; her wages are therefore proportionably high.
Fig. 57.
Brussels Needle-point.
To face page 118.
It is the fineness of the thread which renders the real Brussels ground (vrai réseau, called in Flanders, "droschel") so costly.[339] The difficulty of procuring this fine thread at any cost prevented the art being established in other countries. We all know how, during the last fifty years of the bygone century, a mania existed in the United Kingdom for improving all sorts of manufactures. The Anti-Gallican Society gave prizes in London; Dublin and Edinburgh vied with their sister capital in patriotism. Every man would establish something to keep our native gold from crossing the water. Foreign travellers had their eyes open, and Lord Garden, a Scotch Lord of Session, who visited Brussels in 1787, thus writes to a countryman on the subject: "This day I bought you ruffles and some beautiful Brussels lace, the most light and costly of all manufactures. I had entertained, as I now suspect, a vain ambition to attempt the introduction of it into my humble parish in Scotland, but on inquiry I was discouraged. The thread is of so exquisite a fineness they cannot make it in this country. It is brought from Cambrai and Valenciennes in French Flanders, and five or six different artists are employed to form the nice part of this fabric, so that it is a complicated art which cannot be transplanted without a passion as strong as mine for manufactures, and a purse much stronger. At Brussels, from one pound of flax alone they can manufacture to the value of £700 sterling."
There were two kinds of ground used in Brussels lace, the bride and the réseau. The bride was first employed, but, even a century back,[340] had been discontinued, and was then only made to order. Nine ells of "Angleterre à bride" appear in the bills of Madame du Barry.[341] The lace so made was generally of most exquisite workmanship, as many magnificent specimens of "bas d'aube,"[342] now converted into flounces, attest. Sometimes bride and réseau were mixed.[343] In the inventories the description of ground is always minutely specified.[344] (See Plates XXXVII., XLVII., XLVIII., XLIX., LI.)
Fig. 58.
Brussels Needle-point.
To face page 120.
Fig. 58a.
Brussels. Point à L'aiguille.—Formerly belonged to H.M. Queen Charlotte.
To face page 120.
The réseau was made in two ways,[345] by hand (à l'aiguille), and on the pillow (au fuseau). The needleground is worked from one flower to another, as in Fig. 44. The pillow is made in small strips of an inch in width, and from seven to forty-five inches long, joined together by a stitch long known to the lace-makers of Brussels and Bayeux only,[346] called "point de raccroc"—in English, "fine joining"—and consisting of a fresh stitch formed with a needle between the two pieces to be united. It requires the greatest nicety to join the segments of shawls and other large pieces. Since machine-made net has come into use the "vrai réseau" is rarely made, save for royal trousseaux (Figs. 57 and 58).
There are two kinds of flowers: those made with the needle are called "point à l'aiguille"; those on the pillow, "point plat."[347] The best flowers are made in Brussels itself, where they have attained a perfection in the relief (point brodé) unequalled by those made in the surrounding villages and in Hainault. The last have one great fault. Coming soiled from the hands of the lace-makers, they have a reddish-yellow cast. In order to obviate this evil the workwoman, previous to sewing the flowers on the ground, places them in a packet of white lead and beats them with the hand, an operation injurious to the health of the lace-cleaner. It also causes the lace to turn black when laid in trunks or wardrobes in contact with flannel or other woollen tissues bleached with sulphur, which discolours the white lead. Bottles containing scent, the sea air, or a heated room, will produce the same disagreeable change, and the colour is with difficulty restored. This custom of powdering yellow lace is of old date. We read in 1782[348]: "On tolère en même temps les dentelles jaunes et fort sales, poudrez-les à blanc pour cacher leur vetusté, dut la fraude paroître, n'importe, vous avez des dentelles vous êtes bien dispensé de la propreté mais non du luxe." Mrs. Delany writes in 1734: "Your head and ruffles are being made up, but Brussels always look yellow;" and she was right, for flax thread soon returns to its natural "crêmée" hue. Yet,
"How curled her hair, how clean her Brussels lace!"
exclaims the poet.[349] Later, the taste for discoloured lace became general. The "Isabelle" or cream-coloured tint was found to be more becoming than a dazzling white, and our coquettish grandmothers, who prided themselves upon the colour of their point, when not satisfied with the richness of its hue, had their lace dipped in coffee.
In the old laces the plat flowers were worked in together with the ground. (Fig. 59.) Application lace was unknown to our ancestors.[350] The making of Brussels lace is so complicated that each process is, as before mentioned, assigned to a different hand, who works only at her special department. The first, termed—
1. Drocheleuse (Flemish, drocheles), makes the vrai réseau.
2. Dentelière (kantwerkes), the footing.
3. Pointeuse (needlewerkes), the point à l'aiguille flowers.
4. Platteuse (platwerkes), makes the plat flowers.
5. Fonneuse (grondwerkes), is charged with the open work (jours) in the plat.
6. Jointeuse, or attacheuse (lashwerkes), unites the different sections of the ground together.
7. Striqueuse, or appliqueuse (strikes), is charged with the sewing (application) of the flowers upon the ground.
The pattern is designed by the head of the fabric, who, having cut the parchment into pieces, hands it out ready pricked. The worker has no reflections to make, no combinations to study. The whole responsibility rests with the master, who selects the ground, chooses the thread, and alone knows the effect to be produced by the whole.
The pattern of Brussels lace has always followed the fashion of the day. The most ancient is in the Gothic style (Gothique pur), its architectural ornaments resembling a pattern cut out in paper. This style was replaced by the flowing lines which prevailed till the end of the last century. (Fig. 60.)