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Pictures and Quotes about Bobbin Lace |
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This seems to be one of the first pictures of someone making bobbin lace. It is from the Nüw Modelbuch (new pattern book) printed in Zurich in 1561. This book said that lace was brought to Zurich from Italy in about 1536. The pillow is flat, tiled at an angle. I think that the lacemaker looks like a man which makes him unique among these pictures. I can't see what the other person is doing. |
I found this drawing on a German index of art. It says that it is in the Rijksmuseum. It is by Hendrick Goltzius, who lived from 1558 to 1617, and is called Spitzenklöpplerin, which means the Lacemaker. The pillow is similar to the previous one, tilted at quite an angle, and there are a nice lot of bobbins. And what a ruff! I'm not sure of the accuracy of the dating of this one, but the custume looks about right for the date. |
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| This comes from the Album Amicorum of Gervasius Fabricius of Salzburg, dated 1613. It shows a number of women doing different crafts in a garden. The woman on the left (next to the woman with the dog) is working bobbin lace. The pillow is on a stand, and looks similar to the previous two, but it's a bit hard to see due to the painter's problems with perspective! There certainly don't seem enough bobbins for a serious pattern, and the lace shown looks more like Punto in Aria, an Italian needlepoint, made in an entirely different way. Still, perhaps the painter knew about bobbin lace and was painting from memory. |
William Shakespeare wrote Twelfth Night around 1601-02, and its first recorded performance is in 1602. In this play, Duke Orsino says:
This is an early reference to bobbin lace: weave their thread with bones. Small bones used to be used as bobbins, to wind the thread round. Bobbin lace is essentially weaving, with the pins creating gaps to form the patterns. |
If you want to know about the song that Duke Orsino asked for, here it is:
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There are other possible references in the Winter's Tale, published in 1623. In Act IV, scene IV, a peddlar called Autolycus sings his wares:
Earlier a woman says to her lover: Come, you promis'd me a tawdry-lace, and a pair of sweet gloves. A tawdry-lace is a silk ‘lace’ or necktie, much worn by women in the 16th and early 17th c. |
Still earlier, Autolycus describes his wares as:
Of course these references to lace may not be bobbin lace. But perhaps the pins were used to make lace! |
I found this quote in a book "History of Lace" by Mrs. Bury Palliser, published originally in 1875. I don't know how accurate it is, but she seems to be careful with her references, and quotes dates, and so on. She says "In 1651, Jacob v. Eyck, a Flemish poet, sang the praises of lace-making in Latin verse:
A little glossing: Pallas Athene was the Greek goddess of domestic crafts. Jason and the Argonauts were Greek heros who sailed to find the Golden or Phrygian Fleece. Brabant was a duchy in 1651, including the city of Brussels, which was famous for bobbin lace. When he says needles, he means pins, and the 'balls' are the bobbins, which had balls at the ends. The description of making lace is wonderful. The 'thousand threads' are exaggerated, but with the 'innumerable needles' show that we are talking about a serious width of lace. The 'circle' must be the pillow, although the later 'globe' is the world. It describes the movement of the bobbins, and putting in and taking out pins. It also describes how it's used, to trim cloaks and tuckers, and provide collars and cuffs for kings. I like the comparison of the lightness of the lace and the 'heaviness' of the price! |
| I found this on the web:
A play Frik in 't Veurhuis by M. G. Tengnagel, published in Amsterdam in 1642, mentions the trade of spelderwerkster or bobbin lacemaker (literally 'pin worker'). Grietje, a seamtress, teaches lacemaking to children. She complains about a pupil whose work is loose and dirty: "How can you work so dirtily, as if it was the coldest part of the winter? What's to stop you from working as white as anyone else? Just look at Elsje's work: that's as white as hail and yours is as yellow as tan. Work a bit more tightly too: it looks as if it's all muddled." We hear about parchments (patterns) being given out, work cut off a pillow and a new parchment being set up. Later, Diewertje, a customer, asks to see samples of lace for some collars. Grietje shows her a whole box of lace, and tells her to put her spectacles on and look at it in the daylight: "There's Count Maurice's lace, the bosom lace, the doll, the mouse tooth, the death's head, the death's head with the arrow, the princess, the letter N lace, the tulip, the fan, the Italian floor, the double princess and so on." Earlier, Grietje scolds a lazy pupil, saying that the doll's pattern only has 18 bobbins, so she ought to be able to do a sixteenth of an ell in an hour, but she has only done one tiny scallop. A sixteenth of an ell is about 4.3 cms or 1.7 inches. 18 bobbins or 9 pairs will only make a narrow width of lace. The Dutch Lacemaker paintings of the period (see below) seem to have a similar number of bobbins. This is very few compared with modern ideas. |
Dutch oil painters of the 17th century liked to paint local scenes and people. Since lace was made there, it was a favourite subject of painters. They have closely observed their subjects, who are (Mostly) serious and intent on their work. The equipment is accurately painted, although there does sometimes seem to be rather few bobbins for a decent piece of lace. The pillows look similar - made of wood, with a flat base, and domed side to side, sloping towards the lacemaker. They often have a little drawer in the back. The bobbins have thin shanks and bulbs at the end, and of course, no spangles, as is common on mainland Europe today.
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This lacemaker is by Nicolaes Maes, painted around 1655. She is sewing, with her lace pillow carefully put on a chair. This means that you can see the pillow from the lacemaker's side. The pillow slopes towards the lacemaker. There are a good lot of bobbins. |
This painting by Nicolaes Maes is called Old Woman Dozing. It was painted in 1656. The pillow is put to one side while she has a little nap. There seem to be less bobbins than the previous painting - perhaps half of them are on the other side of the pillow. The pillow is the other way round to the previous painting. |
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This lacemaker is also by Nicolaes Maes, painted around 1656–57, with her pillow on her lap. You can see scissors hanging down from a string. |
This lacemaker is also by Nicolaes Maes, in 1655, with her pillow on the table. |
Yet another lacemaker by Nicolaes Maes. The strip of lace seems quite narrow. |
This lacemaker is by Caspar Netscher, painted in 1662. This is more of a close-up, and you can see a good light (essential for lacemaking) coming over her shoulder. It would come from a window. She is alone without any other furniture except her chair. She seems to be putting in a pin, or possibly tightening the threads, but she seems to be left-handed. The painting is in the Wallace Collection, London. |
The most famous painting of a lacemaker must be by Johannes Vermeer. It was painted around 1669-1671. The lacemaker holds two bobbins in her left hand, while (I think) putting in a pin with her right. The pillow is resting on a wodden stand. This is a real close-up, which shows the intent, careful expression on the lacemaker's face and the delicate precision of the hands' position. This woman is definitely making lace. This painting is in the Louvre. |
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This lacemaker is by Pieter Jacobsz. Codde. I don't have a date for the painting but he lived from 1599 to 1678. The pillow seems the same as previously, and she is balancing it on her lap. The pillow is definitely flat on the bottom, unlike the next painting. I like her hat! |
Another lacemaker by Pieter Jacobsz. Codde. This is the first lacemaker who is not concentrating on her work. You can see that while she has the pillow on her lap, there is either a base to the pillow or something underneath it. This appears in several of the Dutch paintings. It could be just a style of pillow, or that it raises the pillow so you don't have to hunch over the pillow as much to see what you're doing. |
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This lacemaker is by Jan Miense Molenaer. I don't have a date for the painting but he lived from 1610 to 1669. This lacemaker seems more interested in the male company! She has some scissors hung from the pillow. |
This lacemaker is by Gabriel Metsu. I don't have a date for the painting but he lived from 1629 to 1667. The pillow is flat. The bobbins look similar, and again, there don't seem to be that many bobbins. |
Another lacemaker by Gabriel Metsu. His lacemakers don't seem to be able to keep their mind on their work! |
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This lacemaker is an engraving based on a painting by Gerrit Dou. I don't have a date for the painting but he lived from 1613 to 1675. This is the first painting which seems to show lace being made by artificial light (and in my opinion, vastly inadequate). |
Another lacemaker by Gerrit Dou, painted in 1667. This has a serious amount of bobbins, and you can see the pillow drawer (present in several paintings) is open. But again, she's not looking at what she's doing. A small genre piece by Dou could be sold between 500-1,000 guilders, where 500 guilders was approximately the price of an average house. |
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This lacemaker is by Pieter Cornelisz van Slingelandt and was painted in 1672-3. It rejoices in the title "A young lacemaker is interrupted by a birdseller who offers her ware through the window", which I take to be the equivalent of a phone cold-caller. What's more, she seems to be balancing her pillow on one knee, which isn't advised. A good spread of bobbins, though. |
Another lacemaker by Pieter Cornelisz van Slingelandt, painted around 1670 and just called A Lace Maker. A better balance of pillow, but she ought to be concentrating more. This is a detail of the whole picture. |
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This lacemaker is by Bernhard Keil. I don't have a date for the painting but he lived from 1624 to 1687. This pillow is different. It is a round pillow, sometimes called a bolster pillow. It is just resting on a chair, and the woman seems to be kneeling on the floor. That would be awkward for working lace, but perhaps she has put the pillow down while she gets on with her knitting. I hope that the dog (or is it a cat?) doesn't knock the lace pillow over. |
Another lacemaker by Bernhard Keil, again undated. This pillow is another bolster pillow, and she is holding it on her lap. Keil's name is also written as Keyl or Keilhau. I don't know much about Bernhard Keil. He seems to be Danish. He may be a puil of Rembrandt (or a pupil of a pupil). He worked in Rome. You may have worked out that I'm using Wikipedia here! The different style of the lace pillow to the Dutch pillows seems to suggest a different lace tradition, but since we don't know whether this is Danish, Italian, or elsewhere, it is a little unhelpful. |
These later paintings seem to have more idea of the number of bobbins required, but the lacemakers themselves are less convincing. Look at how far apart their hands are, and compare this to the Dutch paintings, which show close together hands doing precise movements.
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This was painted by Vasili Andreevich Tropinin, a Russian, in 1823. The pillow is flat, but tilted upwards at quite a sharp angle. The hands seem to be doing the right things, but the effect is spoiled by the lacemaker, who seems to be more interested in the artist than the lace. In fact, the hands are very similar to Vermeer's lacemaker, so it's tempting to wonder if Tropinin copied them. |
This is called The Old Lacemaker, by Josephus Laurentius Dyckmans who lived from 1811 to 1888. He was born in Lier, Holland and settled in Antwerp, Belgium in 1833. He taught at the Academy of Antwerp. The lacemaker has a flat pillow, and does have enough bobbins for a decent piece of lace. She is certainly looking at the lace, but the hands don't seem to be working lace. Perhaps she is just clearing the bobbins before starting on the next piece. |
This was painted by Joseph Bail, a French artist, who lived from 1862 to 1921. The pillow looks like a bolster-style pillow. The lacemaker looks as if she's bored with her lace! Also, she's facing the window, which would tend to put her lace working into shadow, I would have thought. Most lacemakers on this page are sitting sideways to the window, or with the light behind them, or outside. |
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This was painted by Otto Henry Bacher, an American, who lived from 1856 to 1909. It is called Lace Makers, Venice. It's a bolster pillow and you can see the lacemaker lifting a bobbin over its neighbour. |
This was painted in 1887 by Robert Frederick Blum, an American. It is called Venetian Lace Makers. These ladies seem far more interested in gossip than their work. |
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This was painted by John Fairburn, an English painter, in 1795. A bolster pillow, and I don't know what her fingers are doing! She is working outside, which lacemakers often did, as the light was better. |
This was painted by Thomas Woolner, an English painter, who lived from 1825 to 1892. The bobbins look convincing, and she has her bolster pillow on her lap, and looks as if she is working seriously, although I'm not quite sure what her hands are doing. Perhaps she is pulling the threads tight. |
This was painted by Myles Birket Foster, an English painter, who lived from 1825 to 1899. A sentimental picture, but the lacemaker is intent on her work. There are pieces of cloth on her pillow, to protect the pillow and the lace. |
The Hunting of the SnarkThe Hunting of the Snark - an Agony in Eight Fits by Lewis Carroll was published in 1876. It's a long nonsense poem. Here's a few quotes from it - the only reference to lace. There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,Or would sit making lace in the bow: .... But the Beaver went on making lace, and displayed No interest in the concern: Though the Barrister tried to appeal to its pride, And vainly proceeded to cite A number of cases, in which making laces Had been proved an infringement of right. .... The picture shows the beaver and the butcher. Unfortunately the butcher only killed beavers, which worries the beaver, rather. They do end up best of friends, though. The picture unfortunately is not very convincing, with pins stuck in at random all over the pillow, and no bobbins at all. The pillow looks like a domed one. |
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"Alden's Handy Atlas Of The World" was published by John B. Alden, in New York, 1888. It is an American atlas with statistics in it. It has the following snippet:
LACE
| Nottingham | Persons employed: | 10,500 | Value products: | $29,782,980 |
| The Continent | Persons employed: | 585,000 | Value products: | $28,128,370 |
These are startling figures! Nottingham has one fiftieth of the people employed, yet makes more money! The figures may be inaccurate, or incomplete. Even for America, it seems an odd division, especially as lace was being made in other parts of England, and it is downright insulting to the famous lacemaking areas of mainland Europe to lump them all as "the Continent"! But the atlas might have been trying to make a point. Nottingham did make a little hand-made lace, but it is chiefly famous, especially by this time, for machine made lace. Perhaps the atlas was pointing out that the future of lace was machine-made, not hand-made. The other possibility is that the figures are only for machine made lace, and it is showing that Nottingham is pre-eminant.
This comes from Puck of Pook's Hill, published in 1906, but talking about the past. The 'Gentlemen' are the smugglers, and a young girl is being told not to be nosy, not to talk to the soldiers about the smugglers, and to 'watch the wall' when they pass by, so she can honestly say that she saw nothing. 'Laces for a lady' (not usually plural!) are one of the items being smuggled. Lace was taxed heavily, possibly to protect British lacemakers, or possibly just because being expensive, it was a good earner of revenue. The doll's 'cap of Valenciennes' would be made of lace.
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If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse's feet, Don't go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street, Them that asks no questions isn't told a lie. Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by! Five-and-twenty ponies, Trotting through the dark - Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk; Laces for a lady; letters for a spy, And watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by! Running round the woodlump if you chance to find Little barrels, roped and tarred, all full of brandy-wine; Don't you shout to come and look, nor take 'em for your play; Put the brishwood back again, - and they'll be gone next day! If you see the stable-door setting open wide; If you see a tired horse lying down inside; If your mother mends a coat cut about and tore; If the lining's wet and warm—don't you ask no more! If you meet King George's men, dressed in blue and red, You be careful what you say, and mindful what is said. If they call you 'pretty maid,' and chuck you 'neath the chin, Don't you tell where no one is, nor yet where no one's been! Knocks and footsteps round the house - whistles after dark - You've no call for running out till the house-dogs bark. Trusty's here, and Pincher's here, and see how dumb they lie - They don't fret to follow when the Gentlemen go by! If you do as you've been told, 'likely there's a chance, You'll be give a dainty doll, all the way from France, With a cap of Valenciennes, and a velvet hood - A present from the Gentlemen, along o' being good! Five-and-twenty ponies, Trotting through the dark - Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk. Them that asks no questions isn't told a lie - Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by! |
I don't know whether this is about lace bobbins or some other type of bobbins, such as weaving. I have heard that children were set to wind bobbins to help their lacemaking mothers. It's a children's action rhyme. If it is about winding lace bobbins, I have a vivid image of the tangle they'd get into if they did all those actions!
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Wind the bobbin up, wind the bobbin up, Pull, pull, clap, clap. Point to the ceinling, point to the floor, Point to the window, point to the door. Put your hands together, one, two, three, Place your hands upon your knee. |
A couple of attractive paintings to finish off. These look like real lacemakers!
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This was painted by Edward Atkinson Hornel, a Scottish painter, in 1908 and it is called Ceylon Lacemakers. I think this is a lovely picture. There are lots of bobbins, and serious pillows with rollers. You can see the lace as well, which other pictures miss, but not the pattern unfortunately. |
This was painted by Charles Spencelayh, an English painter, around 1920. Its title is "The Lacemaker (Mrs Newell Making Lace)". I think it's a bolster pillow. Mrs Newell looks like a convincing lacemaker, and I like her bobbins! |
I found these lacemaker prayers on the web. I don't know their origins.
Lord, let me grow old like beautiful lace, cherished and treasured and care for with grace.
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Guide my hands with speed and grace To weave the intricacies of this lace. Let the bobbins weave with ease To create a pattern that will please. Let there be Love in its creation And give it Artistry in its inspiration. May special Care keep the threads from breaking And give me Energy for its making. Allow this lace to bring joy and pleasure And give to others a lifelong treasure. |
And finally, my favourite. This was found on the website of Chris Parsons (Bobbin Maker and Supplier of Beautiful Lace Bobbins) and he sells bobbins engraved with it.
From breaking thread and bending pins, brittle parchment and unmarked pricking, lumpy pillows, half hitches that run, and people who say 'is that all you've done', Good Lord deliver us.