le praise for notability in the

"Apron set with mony a dice
Of needlework sae rare,"

we certainly look with more regard on such work as that of the Danish
princesses who wrought a standard with the national device, the
Raven,[129] on it, and which was long the emblem of terror to those
opposed to it on the battle-field. Of a gentler character was the
stupendous labour of Queen Matilda--the Bayeux tapestry--on which we
have dwelt too long elsewhere to linger here, and which was wrought by
her and under her superintendence.

Queen Adelicia, the second wife of Henry I., was a lady of
distinguished beauty and high talent: she was remarkable for her love
of needlework, and the skill with which she executed it. One peculiar
production of her needle has recently been described by her
accomplished biographer; it was a standard which she embroidered in
silk and gold for her father, during the memorable contest in which he
was engaged for the recovery of his patrimony, and which was
celebrated throughout Europe for the exquisite taste and skill
displayed by the royal Adelicia in the design and execution of her
patriotic achievement. This standard was unfortunately captured at a
battle near the castle of Duras, in 1129, by the Bishop of Liege and
the Earl of Limbourg, the old competitor of Godfrey for Lower
Lorraine, and was by them placed as a memorial of their triumph in the
great church of St. Lambert, at Liege, and was for centuries carried
in procession on Rogation days through the streets of that city. The
church of St. Lambert was destroyed during the French Revolution. The
plain where this memorable trophy was taken is still called the "Field
of the Standard."

Perhaps, second only to Queen Matilda's work, or indeed superior to
it, as being entirely the production of her own hand, were the
needlework pieces of Joan D'Albert, who ascended the throne of
Navarre in 1555. Though her own career was varied and eventful, she is
best known to posterity as the mother of the great Henry IV. She
adopted the reformed religion, of which she became, not without some
risk to her crown thereby, the zealous protectress, and on
Christmas-day, 1562, she made a public profession of the Protestant
faith; she prohibited the offices of the Catholic religion to be
performed in her domains, and suffered in consequence many alarms from
her Catholic subjects. But she possessed great courage and fortitude,
and baffled all open attacks