ture. We repulse the thought that these things are all of the
past. The factory still lives. Will not the Twentieth Century see a
restoration of its former prestige?

If it were only for the reproduction of the sets of furniture of the
style known as Louis XVI, the Beauvais loom would have sufficient
reason for existing at the present day. Scenes from Don Quixote,
however, and the pictured fables of La Fontaine which we see on old
chairs, seem to need age to ripen them. These sets, when made new,
shown in all the freshness and unsoiled colour, and unworn wool, and
unfaded silk do not give pleasure.

[Illustration: BEAUVAIS TAPESTRY]

[Illustration: CHAIR COVERING

Beauvais Tapestry. First Empire]

But the familiar garlands and scrolls adapted from the Greek, that
were woven for the court of Marie Antoinette, these are ever old and
ever new, like all things vital. On a background of solid colour, pale
and tawny, is curved the foliated scroll to reach the length of a
sofa, and with this is associated garlands or sprays of flowers that
any flower-lover would worship. Nothing more graceful nor more
tasteful could be conceived, and by such work is the Beauvais factory
best known, and on such lines might it well continue.

CHAPTER XV

AUBUSSON

Perhaps because of certain old and elegant carpets lying under-foot in
the glow and shadows of old drawing-rooms that we love, the name of
Aubusson is one of interesting meaning. And yet history of tapestry
weaving at Aubusson lacks the importance that gilds the Gobelins and
Beauvais.

It just escaped that _sine qua non_, the dower of a king's favour. But
let us be chronological, and not anticipate.

If antiquity is the thing, Aubusson claims it. There is in the town
this interesting tradition that when the invincible Charles Martel
beat the enemies of Christianity and hammered out the word peace with
his sword-blade, a lot of the subdued Saracens from Spain remained in
the neighbourhood. It was at Poitiers in 732 that the final blow was
given to show the hordes of North Africa that while a part of Spain
might be theirs, they must stop below the Pyrenees.

When swords are put by, the empty hand turns to its accustomed crafts
of peace. Poitiers is a weary journey from Africa if the land ways are
hostile, and all to be traversed afoot. Rather than return, the
conquered Saracens stayed, so runs the legend of Aubusson, and quite
naturally fell into their home