Mary Jameson’s tapestries
October 2007
The wondrous embroidered panels which hang in the Kirk of St Nicholas.
by Alison Mann
Few Aberdonians are aware of the wondrous embroidered panels which have hung in the Kirk of St Nicholas for over 300 years. Known as Mary Jamesone’s Tapestries, they are not woven as you might expect, but embroidered, being sewn on finely-wrought linen, completely covered in stitches to give a woven effect. Far from being dainty drawing-room pieces, these tapestries depicting scenes from Bible stories are huge; the largest, of Jephthah and his Daughter, is 12feet x 5feet10inches.
Mary Jamesone, to whom they are credited, was the daughter of George Jamesone, the 17th century portrait painter, who studied under Rubens in Antwerp. The Lord Lichfield of his day, Jameson painted the likenesses of the cream of Scottish society.
Though no written evidence remains, it is highly probable that the scenes attributed to Mary were designed by her father; but as she was only seven at the time of his death, we can surmise that the work for intended for someone else – perhaps several others given the size of the task, and the fact that there were other needlewomen in the family.
The respected craft of Broderer, originally practised by men, had a long history. Cartoons delineated on a backing material by an artist would be filled in and embellished. The practitioner was at liberty to apply his own touches – exaggerated facial expressions, for example; little vignettes in unexpected places, small creatures, plants or birds.
These pictures are worked with real skill and even now, so long after their completion, the shading which portrays the sparkle of an eye, the rustling of leaves on a tree, or the gleam on a soldier’s helmet is magnificent. Here the ladies of Pharaoh’s court find the baby Moses in the bullrushes; there the Elders play Peeping Tom as Susannah takes her bath. In another scene Queen Esther throws herself on her knees in supplication before the king, as the malefactor hangs from the gibbet.
In our modern times when even sewing on a buttton is a chore too far, the virtuosity in Mary’s tapestries fills the viewer with admiration. Wool, silk and flax threads have been used for stitching in rich rainbow shades, as well as darker tones of browns, black and buff in the detail. Jewellery is depicted by metallic threads, though some of these have gone.
Romanian and French knots
The repertoire of stitches we still use today – chain, satin, stem, Romanian and French knots – and differing techniques have been cleverly employed to create an undulating effect on the river, a terrain-like surface on the fields, or light and shade on foliage.
The Moses picture has some quirky touches. Ten baby-bundles (the first-born of Egypt), float down the river; meanwhile Moses’ cradle is safely hidden on the bank, his sister Miriam holding up her hands in mock surprise at finding him. Pharaoh’s daughter and her attendants are kitted out in costumes of the time of Charles I, with lace-trimmed bodices, looped petticoats and high-heeled shoes. A bridge spans the Nile, but we can see that it is really the Brig o’ Dee with steps down to the water’s edge, and the watchtower that used to stand at the southern end.
Experts hold that Jephtha’s daughter welcoming her father home from the wars, ignorant of the fate that awaits her, is a finer work. The joy of the girl as she runs out with her musical instruments, the horror in the father’s eyes as he realises what he has done, the stolid soldiers, the powerful horses. It’s a horrid Beauty and the Beast tale which would have had a powerful grip on people in those superstitious times.
The tapestry of Esther pleading for her people before the throne is crammed with detail; through an arch can be seen a gibbet with its grim burden, against an elegant township. The pleasant composition of the Susannah piece depicts a garden with a trellised wall. The lecherous Elders, eyes on stalks as they watch the lovely lady in her bath, are wearing gowns and turbans. To preserve them, the pictures were glazed and framed in ebony when they were re-mounted.
The Jamesone house on the Schoolhill
Aberdeen was a dangerous place during Mary’s childhood, the religious wars in full swing and Montrose menacing the town, first at the head of a Covenanter army, then leading a rabble of mercenaries in support of the king. On each occasion the townsfolk bore the brunt, but in the fortress-like Jamesone house on the Schoolhill, the women would have been safe at their needlework with the child looking on.
Mary was 17 when her mother died, but strangely in those days of early marriages, she stayed unwed for a further 10 years. During this time, it is assumed, she worked at her sewing.
Then on 12 April 1664, the diary of Revd. John Rowe tells us: “…today John Burnet Dean of Guild and Marie Jameson were married.” John Burnet was a merchant adventurer, sailing with his goods to Virginia and shipping back tobacco, a vastly fashionable commodity at the time. Burnet had become rich and bought an estate, so was now Burnet of Elrick, and having been recently widowed, was in need of a wife to care for his three bairns. But the marriage was short-lived, for John died in 1666 leaving Mary to look after her own two babies and oversee the estate for her eldest stepson.
James Gregorie, mathematician and astronomer
Life was soon to change for the busy young dowager, for into the frame now steps her illustrious cousin and childhood playmate, James Gregorie, mathematician and astronomer, lately returned from Padua where he had been ruffling a few canonical feathers with his ‘heretical’ pamphlets. Soon they were married, and Mary had to up sticks and move to St Andrews, where a new professorship in mathematics had been created for James.
A falling-out with the authorities caused the Gregories to move once more, this time to Edinburgh. James, ill-fated, was struck blind one night after showing his students the planet Jupiter through his new telescope. He died three days later.
Mary moved north, where in no time at all she married again, this time to a hard-headed merchant with Baltic connection, by name of George Aedie. The tapestries were lent to the Kirk, ‘for the decorement of the King’s Loft…”
But Mary’s time was running out, and in 1684 she died, her husband paying 20 merks for the ringing of the kirk bells at her funeral. In August 1688 the Master of Kirk and Brig Works purchased the tapestries, in the name of the Council, from Baillie George Aedie for £400 Scots. They were itemized as ‘Four Pieces of Tapestrie’ or ‘Hangings for the decorement of the King’s loft in the Nicholas Kirk in dayes of Solemnitie.”
St Nicholas Kirk has an ambitious project on its hands at the moment, which will include many innovations. Might we hope that these plans will include a more sympathetic home for these unique tapestries, where the work of Mary Jameson could be cherished for the people of Aberdeen.
Alison Mann was born in Aberdeen and educated at the Mackie Academy Stonehaven. Delving in dusty archives is her hobby. Put her down among old books and documents with regular refreshments and she would stay there for days on end. She is now retired and living in Angus.
This is an article from the October 2007 edition of Leopard Magazine. To read much more like this every month, see our subscription details.