Draught for a machine lace tablecloth

 

This is a draught, or the instructions, for a tablecloth to be made on the Nottingham lace curtain machine. The first step in producing this type of lace is to design the pattern, which is done by the designer drawing freehand onto paper. That design is then passed to the draughtsman who converts it into the draught, essentially by digitising the design into a series of squares, which are recorded on graph paper by hand painting the individual squares. The draught forms the coded instructions for the lace machine. It is then sent to the card puncher who produces a set of jacquard cards based on the draught, which are then used in the production of the lace.

The draught also includes hand written instructions including the size of the lace; this piece is 36 inches square. The written notes also specify that this tablecloth should be made in ‘single action filet’, meaning that it will resemble handmade filet lace when it is made. All Nottingham curtain lace is made in a series of blocks but they can be open or closed and thick or thin giving an appearance of shading. However when making single action filet lace all the blocks tend to be fairly solid, emphasising their similarity to handmade filet lace. There is also a stamp on the back of the draught giving the Nottingham address of the firm of designer draughtsmen who made it, as well as the pattern number and the date (April 1970). So this lovely image includes a wealth of information.

Early twentieth century tape lace

 

These tape laces are all advertised in one of the monthly issues of The lace and embroidery review in 1911. This was an American magazine produced for trade buyers which discussed the new seasonal trends and contained many advertisements for buyers and suppliers of lace and embroidery. This advertorial shows ‘some beautiful real tape laces’ available from P K Wilson and son. It shows a range of design styles and suggests that the top and bottom ones are possibly Bohemian lace (a term described later in the same issue and discussed in my blog of 14 November 2024).

The fact that these laces are labelled as ‘real’ implies that they are all handmade. It is hard to see from the image but the second piece does seem to include lines of tape that have been gathered and folded to make the pattern and then joined with simple filling stitches. So this piece is probably handmade, although the tape itself is machine made.

In the third piece machine-made tapes have also been gathered and folded to make the bold designs on each side. This was probably worked by hand over a machine made net, with the surplus net being cut away once the tape had been sewn in place and joined with simple filling stitches.

The piece on the fourth line was probably worked in a similar way with the edging tape and flowers added to machine made net. The central swirls could also be made using a fine tape, but I think it would be much easier to work this part of the design in tambour lace with a hook and thread producing a fine chain stitch. Tape lace was certainly popular in the early twentieth century; customers appreciated its bold designs and manufacturers liked it because it was quick and easy to make.

London landmarks in lace

 

This machine-made, lace panel of Westminster Abbey in London is one of a series and I have another one depicting Trafalgar Square. Many of these fairly small lace panels (they are 30 x 45 cm) were made from the 1960s to the end of the 1980s and I’ve seen others of famous UK landmarks such as Edinburgh Castle and Nottingham Castle. The two I have are made of a synthetic thread so are definitely fairly modern in construction. As you can see in the detail below, they are very cleverly shaded by using a limited range of stitches and the square format of this type of lace lends itself well to depicting architecture.

I don’t know how many different landmarks were part of this London series. I have seen lace panels of Buckingham Palace and St Paul’s Cathedral but they did not have the same border as my two examples so I don’t think that they are part of this series. A search on the internet does not reveal much and concentrates on the images of London shown in the Battle of Britain commemorative lace panel, which I know very well having researched it and written about it many times. However, the images on the commemorative panel are not views of London landmarks, but mainly images of bomb-damaged London buildings. I bought my panels online but I assume they were originally sold as souvenirs for tourists and that is why I think they must be part of a wider series of London landmarks in lace.

Alternative lace bobbins

 

I’ve started a new piece of work, which will be 3 or 4 m long and 20 cm or so wide. As you can imagine it requires quite a lot of thread and my usual lace bobbins aren’t big enough to hold it all so I had to find another solution. I had a look through my bobbin collection and found several continental bobbins that I’ve been given over the years by kind friends, which are just right for the job. So thank you to those of you who have given me gifts of bobbins over the years, they are proving very useful. I’m also enjoying using them as they remind me of my lace travels and they are pleasing to work with. However, even these lovely bobbins are not suitable for some of the thicker threads I’m working with. The ‘hairy’ thread you can see is actually made of paper and is too voluminous to wind round a conventional lace bobbin. I tried winding it round various other cylindrical items but none worked well, sticks were too thin, paper spools too light and toilet rolls too big. Then I discovered two old spools from reels of thread, which worked perfectly, and the thread holds a half hitch nicely to keep the thread in place.

Another problem was the thick thread in the ball, which is made from hemp, and was too bulky to thread onto a spool. Also I want to use a long quantity of it without having to keep joining it, so I decided to keep it in the ball. I started by pinning it down while I made the lace but that was fiddly and time consuming so in the end I just tied a rubber band round it to keep the thread in place, which is working well. The thread does have a tendency to twist, but I find that if I hang the ball over the edge of my pillow as I work it untwists itself and provides the tension I need. I feel quite pleased with my alternative lace bobbins and working with such thick thread means the lace is progressing quickly too.

Swiss embroidered lace curtains

I’m back doing more lace curtain research this week and have discovered these very pretty Swiss embroidered curtains in a lace curtain catalogue from the west London department store Whiteley. The catalogue was produced in the early twentieth century but unfortunately no actual date is given. Swiss is a confusing term in the context of lace curtains because it can signify various different techniques. The Nottingham lace curtain machine can produce Swiss and Swiss combination stitches and Swiss lace is also a term for chemical lace. However, The very light open design of these curtains makes me think that they were made using the Schiffli embroidery machine straight onto a net background.

The three designs of curtains here were all available in white or ecru. The curtain with the design of irises (main image) cost 12/9 for a pair in the sale and each one was 126 inches long and 50 inches wide. The curtains in the lower image are both 126 x 60 inches in size, but are more expensive. The ones on the left cost 17/9 per pair and the others cost 24/3 per pair. I’m not sure why there is such a discrepancy in price as they both seem to have equally complicated designs, requiring similar amounts of work. All three curtain designs are sold in fairly large lengths and widths indicating that they are for a house with large, but not lavish, windows and their price, even in a sale, suggests they would have been bought by a well-to-do customer.

Raised petals in Bedfordshire lace

 

Raised petals are added to lace to give a more three-dimensional appearance to the design. The group of raised petals that you see on the left here were worked separately to the main design and then sewn in place once the work was finished. It is probably possible to make the petals directly over the main piece of lace, and attach it to the lower edge with sewings as you work, but I think making it separately and then attaching it with needle and thread is much quicker and easier. Also, Bedfordshire lace does not traditionally use sewings, so the old lacemakers would not have been familiar with the technique.

The addition of raised petals seems to be left to the worker's discretion as the pricking for the lace does not indicate that the petals should be raised. Perhaps raised petals were only included in the lace if they were specifically requested by the lace buyer for a special piece.

I haven’t seen many examples of Bedfordshire lace with raised petals so I don’t think it was a commonly used technique. However, in this pattern by Thomas Lester the inner row of petals in the large flowers could easily be raised, and Lester’s work was just the type of high quality lace that would have been likely to contain such a detailed embellishment.

Tambour lace: frame, hook and thread

 

Tambour lace is a fine, delicate lace made by working chain stitches through a machine-made net background, using a tambour hook. The net is held taught in a frame so both hands are free to accomplish the tambouring. One hand holds the tambour hook above the net and the other controls the thread beneath the work. The hook is inserted through a space in the net, it then picks up a loop of thread and pulls this through to the front. Keeping the loop round the hook, the hook is then inserted into an adjacent space in the net and another loop is picked up through the first one. When this second loop is pulled through to the front of the work, the first loop will be left as a chain on the front of the net. The work then progresses forming a line of chain stitches, which are used to outline the pattern. Filling stitches can then be added either with the tambour hook or using a needle and thread. 

When I make tambour lace I pin my pattern below the net, but this does mean I have to keep moving it out of the way to make the chain stitches, which is time consuming. Commercial workers often had the design printed onto the net, which made the work faster. They would also have had a larger frame for the net so that several people could work on one design together and speed up the work. Large and small frames both allow a length of lace to be made, as the completed part can be wound around the roller at the end of the frame and a new area of net moved to the working area. Attaching the net in the way I show here using a binding also allows the work to be moved up easily when you move to a new section.

In the early nineteenth century, embroidery and tambouring on net were the only ways to make decorated lace. It wasn’t until later in the century that the ability to make patterned lace entirely by machine was invented. Tambouring on net later became the speciality of Coggeshall in Essex and Limerick in Ireland.

Queen Elizabeth’s ruffs

 

Looking at images of Queen Elizabeth I of England reveals the development of lace ruffs throughout the sixteenth century. The fashion for ruffs began in the 1530s with a small ruffle on the neckband of the smock. As the century progressed the ruffles became box pleated and fuller, often with an edging of simple needlelace, embroidery, or cording. They tended to be full at the back and sides of the head but were shallower at the chin.

By the 1570, the ruff had become a uniform size around the head and was formed of figure-of-eight shaped pleats often 3-4 inches in height. Wide lengths of lace were used to edge the ruff often incorporating spangles, or sequins, which would have sparkled as they caught the light. These ruffs were separate items of clothing and no longer attached to the smock. This made them easier to launder and starch into their stiffened shape.

The 1580s saw the development of much wider and more ornate ruffs, which appeared to be made entirely of lace, or were embroidered and edged with a wide lace edging. These ruffs required a support behind them to maintain their shape and the effect was quite stunning, as we can see in this miniature by Nicholas Hilliard.

By the 1590s necklines were lower and ruffs were often worn open with their edges pinned to the corners of the bodice. These ruffs tended to be more delicate than the solid styles of the previous decade. They also needed a support, known as a rebato, to maintain their height and shape. These supports were finer than the earlier ones and were made of wire covered with thin gauze or cotton, some also had an edging of lace. This detail of the Rainbow portrait by Isaac Oliver also shows the Queen’s delicate wired head rail. We are very fortunate that painting styles of the time depicted clothing so accurately, providing a beautiful record of these changing fashions.

Lace bobbins made by the Haskins family

 

The Haskins family were prolific makers of beautiful lace bobbins, in both bone and wood, from the late eighteenth to the late nineteenth century and many are now found in museums. The examples above are all made from bone and give a brief glimpse of their output. Joseph Haskins was born in 1779, lived in Bedford, and made highly decorated bobbins that included coloured spots, pewter wire and tinsel. He also turned bobbins with loose rings around the shank and made lovely ‘church window’ bobbins, with openings along the shank that contained tiny miniature lace bobbins inside them. In the image above the bobbin on the left is a church window bobbin with tiny green dyed bone bobbins inside the shank. Joseph is the only maker known to decorate these small inserted bobbins with a spiral groove. The second bobbin in the image is one of the few inscribed bobbins Joseph made. His lettering is distinctive and lies between two spirals of red and blue. The inscription reads ‘Eliza Ward is no moor’. Another unusual feature is that the text has to be read by holding the bobbin head down; the more usual direction is with the head up.

David Haskins was one of Joseph’s sons and he learnt bobbin making from his father. He later moved to Leighton Buzzard and established his business there. Like his father, he produced many decorated bobbins but relied on coloured dots, inlaid pewter and wire decoration, often including tiny lines of bead work (the two central bobbins in the image are his work). He did produce inscribed bobbins but the lettering is quite simple and plain and long inscriptions read up the shank of the bobbin in the conventional way. His nephew, Robert Haskins (Joseph’s grandson), also became a bobbin maker and seems to have learnt the skill from his grandfather. He records as a young teenager sawing bones into blanks for his grandfather to turn into bobbins. An example of Robert’s work is on the right in the image above. It is much simpler than that of his relatives, with coloured slashes and turned rings. He also used inlaid pewter and wire but does not seem to have made any inscribed bobbins. The Haskins family were clearly very skilled and prolific bobbin makers, whose work spans the entire nineteenth century and beyond. The style of their work also mirrors the fortunes of the lacemaking areas they worked in. With ornate and expensive bobbins being produced at the end of the eighteenth century but plainer functional designs being made by the end of the nineteenth century, when the handmade lace industry was in decline.

Filet lace patterns

 

I’ve been studying filet lace patterns again and found some lovely ones in a French book of designs. Unfortunately it isn’t dated but I think it was probably published in Paris in the early twentieth century. The booklet is basically a catalogue of designs that can be purchased by mail order.

There are a variety of types and styles of pattern. Several are ecclesiastical in nature including those shown here, as well as some vignettes of biblical figures such as David and Goliath and Judith and Holofernes, which are a bit bloodthirsty, and some more benign ones of angels and cherubs.

Other items are designed for the home such as these small table mats and there are also patterns for larger mats and chair backs and arm covers. Although several of these patterns are quite large and complicated I think they were designed to be worked by amateurs in the home. No instructions are given in the booklet but the text states that they are included with the patterns. However, from previous patterns I have seen I think they would have assumed a high level of skill from the worker and would not be very detailed. The booklet also includes advertisements for the type of thread required to make the patterns but I do not know if the instructions included the amount required or not. It would be lovely to see some of these beautiful pieces worked, but failing that, the designs are a lovely reminder of times past.

Parchment prickings

 

The pricking is the pattern used for bobbin lace. However, before the use of cardboard they were made from parchment and were often known just as parchments. My sources say that old parchments were generally 12 to 14 inches long but the one I have is only 10 inches in length plus the cloth extensions at each end which are about 4 inches long and are used to attach the pattern to the lace pillow.

Thomas Wright in The romance of the lace pillow says that the lace designer not only drew the pattern but also pricked it. This was done by making holes in the pattern where the lacemaker would need to use pins to support the work, using a needle fixed in a holder. Wright names several lace designers from the East Midlands and praises their skilled work. He explains that the design was first pricked on cardboard and the position of the outlining, or gimp threads, drawn on to the pattern to produce a draught. Transparent parchment was then laid over the draught, which was used as a template to prick the pin holes through the parchment. The position of the gimp threads would then be inked on to the parchment. Subsequent patterns would probably have been pricked from a template by the person organising the lace trade or occasionally by the lacemaker herself. This copying would probably have been done by laying the original over a piece of fresh parchment and pricking through the holes in the original to make a new copy of the holes into the lower parchment, which would then be inked. My example here has rolled up with age and it is so well used that some of the holes have torn to leave a gap in the foot side, both of which are common problems with old parchments and is why many of them have not survived.

Veiled shadows

 

Veiled shadows is such an evocative theme. Veils and shadows have such resonance. They both reveal and conceal but tend not to do so completely, leaving an impression or hint of what they are covering. The shadows of these veils highlight their transience while appearing to give them volume and substance. The dual shadows of Belladonna in the image above hint at the layers of obfuscation hidden behind this widow’s mourning veil.

The text on the No, no, no veil is projected onto the wall behind, reinforcing the message, yet softening it, transforming it into a whisper as it appears to echo from the lace.

The shadow on the Vampire veil highlights the shapes of the fangs and the drops of blood on the lace reinforcing the image of dripping blood.

In this image of Pinned down the light shines on the pins edging this bridal veil, highlighting their sharp piercing nature but also produces a maze of shadows behind the work suggesting the tangle of problems that will result from this marriage. Lighting is so important when trying to produce shadows from lace and is often difficult to adjust. I was lucky that the lighting at this exhibition of the veils was ideal, producing multiple shadows and enhancing the appearance of the lace.

 

Reading the thread

 

I’m delighted to have a chapter in this fascinating new book about textiles edited by Lesley Millar and Alice Kettle. Entitled Reading the thread: Cloth and communication it considers the abilities of thread to record or communicate a story. The contributions are wide ranging including the history, construction and future of threads and their use in contemporary practice.

My chapter builds on my research into the Battle of Britain commemorative lace panel made by the Nottingham machine lace company, Dobson and Browne, at the end of the second world war. In this study I compare it with the handmade needlelace tablecloth made for Queen Elisabeth of Belgium, as part of the Belgian war lace initiative during the first world war. Although both these lace works seem quite different in technique and manufacture, there are many similarities between them. Both were designed as artworks rather than everyday lace and both incorporate iconography and symbols representative of the events of their time.

Importantly for the theme of the book, both lace artefacts communicate a story, literally and metaphorically. They both include the facts and dates of their respective wars but also the hidden story of the resilience of lacemakers and the power of lace to transcend war and result in two beautiful war memorials. The book will be published on 23 January by Bloomsbury, so not long to wait now.

Lettering in handmade lace

I often use lettering in my work and have tried various ways of incorporating it into lace. Generally I only include a phrase or a short sentence and often the idea behind the work is that the words have been caught up or trapped in the net of the lace on a curtain or veil. I have used a Bedfordshire bobbin lace technique to incorporate text into my subversive doilies project and also on some of my lace curtains (in the image above) and veils.

I have also added lace to net curtains using a tambouring technique. This involves producing a fine line of continuous chain stitches using a tambour hook and thread and is a good way of incorporating cursive script into the work.

In other curtains I have worked bobbin lace and then used threads from the lace to embroider the text across the background fabric of the curtain. I used this technique in ‘Whisperings’ where I wanted to incorporate a conversation of different threads of speech interacting with one another. I think these simple techniques suit the style of my work where I am trying to represent the thoughts of the lacemaker or imply that the words have merely been sifted from the air and trapped by the lace itself.