THE ORIENTAL RUG

Plate I.
ANTIQUE LADIK
Prayer Rug
From the Collection of Mr. George H. Ellwanger
Size: 3.10 x 6

Copyright, 1903
By Dodd, Mead and Company
Published September, 1903

PREFACE

That Oriental rugs are works of art in the highest sense of the term, and that fine antique specimens, of even modest size, have a financial value of ten, fifteen, or thirty-eight thousand dollars, has been recently determined at public auction. At this auction, several nations had a representative voice in the bidding, and the standard of price was fairly established. The value of rugs may have been imaginary and sentimental heretofore; it is now a definite fact, with figures apparently at the minimum. What the maximum may prove, remains to be seen.

Choice old rugs, therefore, to-day come into the same class with genuine paintings of the old Dutch School; with canvases of Teniers, Ruysdael, Cuyp, Ostade, or whatever similar artist’s work may have escaped the museums. They vie in prestige with the finest examples of Corot, Diaz, Troyon, or Daubigny; and in monetary supremacy they overtop the rarest and grandest of Chinese porcelains.

And yet the Oriental rug, as against such competitors for the wealthy collectors’ favour, has hardly a history, and is practically without a name or a pedigree. Experts will tell you at a glance whether or not your Wouverman is genuine, or inform you where every true Corot was owned or whence it was bartered or stolen. In Chinese porcelains, the knowing dealer will easily prove to you not only under what dynasty but in what decade or year a particular piece was produced.

The painting has descent, signature, or the brush mark of a school to father it. The Chinese vase, bowl, or jar has its marks, cyphers, stamps and dates, and an undoubted genealogy to vouch for its authenticity. The rug must speak for itself and go upon its intrinsic merits. It is its own guarantee and certificate of artistic and financial value.

The study of Oriental rugs, therefore, can never lead to an exact science or approximate dogmatic knowledge. Whoever is interested in them must needs rely upon his personal judgment or the seller’s advice. There is practically only one current book authority in the premises.

A new volume on the subject would thus seem to be well justified. It is the hope of the author that this book may prove itself sound and practical, and that it may help to make more clear and simple the right appreciation of a valuable rug.

W. D. ELLWANGER

Rochester, N.Y., 1903

CONTENTS

LIST OF PLATES

THE MYSTERY OF THE RUG

The Oriental Rug

Chapter I

If, on the other hand, we view our rugs with the light of a better wisdom and happier experience, we will see the richest and softest of colours, the most harmonious shadings and blendings, medallions brilliant as jewels, or geometrical designs beautiful as the rose windows of a cathedral; or, again, graceful combinations of charmingly conventionalized flowers and delicate traceries and arabesques,—all these displaying new glories of ever changing and never tiring beauty. Each woven picture, too, is as soft to tread upon as a closely mown lawn, and caresses the feet that sink into its pile. These are Oriental rugs as their admirers know and love them.

Perhaps the chief charm of all such beautiful rugs is in their mystery. Their designs are odd and strange and full of hidden meanings, and their effects are often evolved from the crudest and clumsiest figures, hooks and squares and angles; they owe their wealth of colour to simple vegetable dyes from the woods and fields and gardens, and yet the secret of many of these dyes is still a secret, or has long ago been lost. The places whence the rugs come, the people who make them and those who sell them, all are mysterious and hard to know and understand.

Moreover, broadly speaking, there are no experts on the subject, no authorities, no literature. He who would know them must learn them by experience. The rug dealers, for the most part, seem to treat their wares merely as so much merchandise, and what knowledge concerning them they are willing to impart is so contradictory as to be almost valueless. Few of them would agree upon the name of an example which might be out of the ordinary, or be able to tell where it was made. Ask of them what a “Mecca” is, and they will stammer in their varying answers. And yet the Armenians who handle most of the rugs in this country are often highly educated, and fully appreciate the beauty of their wares. Their taste, however, is not always our taste, and all the Orientalists seem to retain their barbaric fondness for crude and startling colours. When we would turn to books for information in the matter we find that the authorities are not many. They might be numbered on your fingers and thumbs. These few books, moreover, have been published only in limited editions at high prices, and are not easily obtainable. One of the most important of such works is the sumptuously illustrated, elephantine folio, issued in Vienna in 1892 by the Imperial and Royal Austrian and Commercial Museum. And, elaborate as this authority is, the modest editor, by way of apology, says in the preface that “no pretensions are made toward perfection owing to the little information that we can fall back upon.” A recent authority on the subject is John Kimberly Mumford, and his volume on Oriental Rugs, published in 1900, has thrown much light on the subject. Too great praise cannot be given to this work and to his later studies in the same field.

Still, no one knows it all, and the mystery of Oriental rugs only deepens as we try to learn. The little that any one may really know of them through experience, through questioning and elusive answers, through conversations with obliging and polite vendors, and through foreign travel even, is, when all is said, only a patchwork of knowledge. Consider how stupendous and hopeless would be the task of one who would dare endeavour to analyze, criticise, classify, and co-ordinate the paintings of the past five centuries, were no names signed to them or no appreciable number of pictures painted by the same known artist.

He who would write of rugs has a like condition to face.

And alas! also, whoever would write on this subject must now treat of it principally as history. The characteristic rugs, the antique rugs, the rare specimens, are seldom to be bought. They are in museums, or in the hands of collectors who hold them in even a tighter fist.

Twenty years ago the warning was given that the choice old rugs were growing scarce; the years following found fewer still upon the market. Two or three years ago one of the largest wholesale houses in New York, carrying a stock of half a million or a million dollars, had no antiques to show. In the autumn of 1902, another large New York importer who had just returned from Persia, Tiflis, and Constantinople admitted that he had not brought back one valuable antique piece.

Nevertheless, the true enthusiast need not be discouraged. From wandering dealers, in odd corners, at the unexpected or by chance, one may happen on a choice specimen.

The very word “Persian” is a synonym for opulence, splendour, gorgeousness; and “Oriental” means beauty and wonder and the magic of the “Arabian Nights.” From the Aladdin’s cave of the mystical East, therefore, we may still hope to gather treasure and spoil.

GENERAL CLASSIFICATION

Chapter II

Most of the rugs of commerce in this country come from Persia, Turkey, Asia Minor, Turkestan, the southern part of Russia, Afghanistan, and Beluchistan; a few also from India. The rugs are named from the provinces or cities where they are woven, and to the uninitiated, the names seem to have been as fearfully and wonderfully made as the rugs themselves. They are spelled one way on the maps and every other way in catalogues and advertisements. In enumerating the most familiar ones it may be well to write their names as nearly phonetically and conventionally as possible. A few rugs have trade appellations only, without regard to topography; and, often, unknown towns are called into requisition for fanciful titles to please the purchaser.

Of course the names of rugs may mean nothing to your man-of-all-work, whose duty it is to chastise them upon the lawn. But there is poetry in the names of the roses, and you cannot half enjoy their beauty unless you know a Mabel Morrison from the Baroness Rothschild; Cécile Brunner from the Earl of Dufferin; or can give the proper rank and title to Captain Christy, General Jacqueminot, and Maréchal Niel. And who would dare to talk of laces that could not give a French or Dutch or Irish name to them? Or, when painted pictures instead of woven ones were under discussion, who would venture to admit that he had heard for the first time the names of some of the Old Masters, or did not know any of the Flemish School, or could not at least touch his hat to a Gainsborough or a Romney? There were “old masters” in wool as well as on canvas, as the Gheordez rugs most particularly prove, and though the artists’ signatures are missing or meaningless, their classification is important. Once learned, and then difficult to remember withal, rugs answer to their names like old and familiar friends. If Homer catalogued the ships, surely the masterpieces of the Eastern loom are worthy of brief nomenclature.

The Persians come first, and perhaps in the following order of excellence: Kirman, Sehna, Kurdistan, Khorassan, Serabend, Youraghan, Joshghan (Tjoshghan), Feraghan, Shiraz, Gulistan, Mousul, etc. The rug dealers frequently speak of a “Persian Iran,” but as Iran is the native expression for Persia, the name is as tautological as are the dealer’s laudatory adjectives. So far as the term “Iran” can be differentiated, it is now applied with some propriety to rare old Persian rugs of fine weave only, whose proper name may be in doubt.

Among the Turkish rugs, which are mainly those from Asia Minor, the Yourdez (or Gheordez), the Koulahs, Koniahs, and Ladiks are by far the finest, and then come the Bergamas, vying often for like high honour, the Melez, and many others which are vaguely classed as Anatolians.

From Turkestan come the numerous Bokharas and the more uncommon Samarkands; from Afghanistan, the Afghans and the Khiva, and Yamoud-Bokharas. But the two rugs last named seem to have a doubtful paternity, and should perhaps be classed with the other Bokharas.

Beluchistan sends but one type, which is generally unmistakable, although Afghans, Bokharas, and Beluchistans all have a family likeness.

To Caucasia in Russia are credited the Kabistans, Shirvans, Chichis (Tzi-tzis), Darbends, Karabaghs, Kazaks, and Gengias, also the Soumacs, or so-called Cashmeres. The first four of these are somewhat similar in character, and not many years ago were generally sold in this country under the indiscriminate title of Daghestans. We are more specific in our knowledge now, and can classify and differentiate an old Baku rug, or a Kuba, which is a Kubistan, and therefore what we used to call an antique Kabistan.

India provides us only with some fine large carpets mostly of modern make, and also with many imitations of Persian rugs, made in part by machinery like the current substitute for a Turkish towel.

OF THE MAKING, & OF DESIGNS, BORDERS, ETC.

Chapter III

In order to appreciate the beauty of rugs, it is well to remember how they are made, and with what infinite patience the bits of wool are knotted onto the warp one after another, knot upon knot and tie after tie, until the perfect piece is finished. Yet, no! Finished it may be, but never perfect. Deliberately, if necessary, it must show some defect, in proof that Allah alone is perfect. Such at least is the poetical version of a crooked rug as the seller tells it. Yet never was a vendor but will expatiate fluently on the merits of a rug which lies true and straight and flat upon the floor, as a good rug should. It is a common sight nowadays in shop windows to see some wandering artisan plying his trade for the edification of the passer-by. In his own home it is generally a woman who does the weaving, and very commonly the whole family take part in it. More often still the rugs were woven by an Oriental maid for her prospective dowry, and the practice yet obtains. A specimen of her handicraft in textile art was a bride’s portion and marriage gift; it was considered as essential to the proceedings as the modern trousseau. This offering was a work of love and often a work of years. It is but natural, under such circumstances, with dreams, hopes, and fancies for inspiration, and the stimulus of rivalry, too, that masterpieces should result. These Eastern marriage portions correspond to the “linen chest” of our ancestral Puritan Priscillas; and similar customs now survive in many countries. Except that the “accomplishment” of the Oriental maiden is so much more important, it might also be compared to the beadwork so diligently done by our grandmothers. If the Persian bride gave infinite toil and pains to innumerable knots and ties, our belles of the last century were also unwearying in their tasks, and strung more and smaller beads than any would care to count or finger now. The designs on these bead-bags were mostly crude and “homely,” and their art was very simple. But though the handiwork of the Orientals was expended in a better cause with worthier skill, both linen and wool, and even beads, bespoke a labour of love in such employments; which, alas! is out of date to-day. Rugs of this character, gathered from house to house, together with some few stolen from mosque or palace, were the first ripe spoils of twenty years ago. Of course the supply was soon exhausted. It is an interesting question whether it might not be possible, in the East, to revive this high class of work among the girls. Instead of establishing great factories for machine-made products from set designs, could not the most skilful of the girls be induced by good prices to create original pieces and rejuvenate the old art?

Plate II.
ANTIQUE KONIAH
Prayer Rug
From the Collection of Mr. George H. Ellwanger
Size: 3.5 x 4.7

The method of weaving is most simple. The warp is stretched on a rude wooden frame, and this warp is either wool, linen, or cotton. The knotting is begun at the bottom and worked from right to left. A bit of woollen yarn about two inches long is deftly twisted between the strands of the warp, then tied in a secure knot, and the ends left as they are. This knot of yarn is then secured in place by one or more twists of the end of the warp, and then another knot of yarn is tied and the process repeated ad infinitum until the bottom row is finished and another row begun. Not till the rug is all made are the ends of the knots cut, according to the length of nap desired. Such, at least, was the original method, although the various knots are all a mystery to any but the initiated, by whom they are generally classified as two only. When one square inch of rug is completed, according to the quality of the rug and the coarseness or fineness of the yarn, there have been thus laboriously tied from one hundred to five hundred knots, not uncommonly a thousand and more in some museum pieces. And all this while the weaver is working with his brains as well as with his fingers and keeping true to the design and colour scheme which he carries only in his head. Except in the few intentioned copies, specially made, they had formerly no patterns to follow. Each particular weaver, however, was wont to keep to the general design and colouring which distinguished his particular locality.

Of designs it may be said, generally, that they were originally individual trademarks, and, of themselves, stamped the locality of their weavers. Later, as knowledge and civilization spread and tribe grew to communicate with tribe and nation with nation, local designs came to be used indiscriminately. For example, you will find in the semi-antique Feraghans or Shiraz, or Kiz-Killims as well, the distinctive and unmistakable Sehna models. On the other hand, certain definite, primal, and unchanged designs, both in the field and border, mark some rugs absolutely and exclusively; as the Bokharas and Afghans. In many, their classification is fixed, or at least approximated, rather by their borders than by the figuring of their fields. There are many border designs surely determining their origin and the region to which they properly belong. These borders may have been borrowed or stolen, or may have naturally spread to other regions, even in the old time; and they may be adapted to various other makes to-day. Their evident individuality of design tells its own history just the same.

It is not difficult to master the characteristic features of the borders of many types; and, once known, they make a fair foundation of knowledge for the collector. They are often truer and safer guides to classification than are the designs of centre or field. Indeed, the study of borders, inner, middle, and outer borders, and borders characteristic, modified, or exceptional would make a book of wondrous artistic interest and beauty of design. Even the item of selvedge, particularly in the Beluchistans, shows great skill in colouring and pattern.

The consideration of characteristic patterns in field and border is so involved with verbal description and specification in the various classes of rugs that an attempt at complete pictorial illustration of such figures in their proper place is practically impossible. A few reproductions are shown in this chapter which may serve as examples. Some of them are more particularly considered elsewhere in the text, as reference may show.

The Serabend border is referred to on p. 50, and is quite unmistakable; and the Persian border (p. 23) is familiar to every one, and appears frequently on Caucasian rugs of every quality and every age. The Feraghan leaf design is noticed on p. 52, and wherever used in the drawing, determines its class as absolutely as any figure may. The Rhodian border is referred to more particularly on p. 72, and the Koniah design and Koulah border are described in their proper place, p. 72. Other Persian borders are most interesting, although they may not particularize any class or locality. Such are the turtle and crab borders (pp. 28 and 29), and the lobster design, at the head of this page. The origin of these strange forms of ornament as applied to carpet-weaving adds only another mystery to the subject. But dyes were derived not only from leaves and roots, but also from insects, molluscs, and crustaceans. It must be that the origin of the colour originally suggested these symbols of marine or insect life for decorative effect. The more they were used, however, the more conventionalized and meaningless they appear, recent weavers not appreciating what they represented. Old pieces show more clearly the evident model. But old pieces also often show original creations in border and design, far more artistic than the usual types. The Kazak border of the titlepage is an example. The discriminating collector, when a choice offers, will do well to avoid the commonplace.

OF THE DYEING

Chapter IV

Of course every one knows that the colouring of the yarn of the best Oriental rugs is derived only from vegetable or animal dyes, and to this is due their beauty and durability. It may be noted also, in parenthesis, that it is the yarn and not the wool that is dyed. Alas, that modern weavers, Oriental and Occidental, have learned to substitute mineral or aniline dyes! These not only destroy the wool and fade badly, but when the fabric is cleaned or wet by any chance the colours run, and leave their stains and blemishes. Of course, too, they fail to give the richness, depth, and lustre of the good old method. Generally, their manifest crudity bespeaks the poor quality and coarseness of their make. Some vegetable dyes also fade, but they fade only into softer and more pleasing shades, and more delicate and harmonious blendings, as witness, in many antiques, the soft and beautiful tones of pink, salmon, and fawn which come from raw magentas, as the back of the rug will prove. But that magenta dye was of the old school. Modern magentas seem never to fade away gracefully and becomingly. It must be noted, however, while speaking of the dyes used in the fine old rugs and in the best rugs of to-day, that for one or two colours resort was, and is, had to mineral dyes. Many of the best old Turkish specimens have thus suffered in their blacks and browns, and many a museum exhibit is eaten to the warp where these colours occur. It may be well to remember this, as some varieties of Mousul and of Turkish weave, thus worn to the warp in spots, leaving the other figures raised and in relief, are palmed off on the innocent purchaser as rare, “embossed” pieces. Iron pyrites is the mineral from which these black dyes are made, and some Turkish weavers seem to know no vegetable black or brown. In some of the best Persians, Serabends particularly, the green which is used in the borders has the same fault as the Turkish blacks and browns; and if it does not “fade away suddenly like the grass,” at least it leaves the nap “cut down, dried up, and withered.”

Plate III.
ANTIQUE KAZAK
From the Collection of Mr. Erickson Perkins
Size: 5.9 x 7.2

The subject of the various dyes might be extended to a separate monograph, for really the whole history of rug making depends upon the dyes used. The day that the aniline, petroleum dyes came into use doomed the perfect making of carpet or rug; and not all the strictest laws of the Medes and Persians—which is to say, the Shah of Persia—have availed to prevent the use of the mineral dyes, and the complete demoralization of modern weaving. You may find even in choice, closely woven, artistic Shirvans and Kabistans of fifteen and twenty years ago some few figures in certain colours which are clearly and manifestly aniline. They are the strong reds and especially the bright orange. And in some modern Kurdistans, which should be free from guile, a few figures betray the same telltale glaring media. Used with a sparing hand, as they are, they do not ruin a rug, but they are none the less a blotch upon its fair repute. The theory is, so far as concerns the new Kurdistans, for instance, that these few mineral dyes are bought by the weavers from some traveller or agent by chance and inadvertently, and without knowledge of their character. Otherwise they would hardly be used for a few figures in a finely woven piece, where all the other dyes are vegetable.

One expert Armenian has a sure test for mineral dyes in his tongue. When in doubt he cuts a bit of wool from the rug, nibbles it a minute or so, and then pronounces his sure verdict. But the test is a delicate one, and the fruit of knowledge is, presumably, bitter.

Again, in speaking of colours and shadings, it may be interesting to know why solid colours so often come in streaks, changing abruptly, for instance, from dark blue to light blue, or dark red to light red. You may have any of several explanations: that the weaver, dipping his wool into the dye, stopped, for any trivial word or interruption, and the wool took on a stronger hue; or, that another hand or one of the women or children took up the work; or, again, that the plant, from which he bruised that particular hue, gave out in his back garden. Any of these reasons may be right. But the more credible one is to believe that the artistic weaver knew how effective is this change of colour, and what a pleasing, changing, varying light and shade it gives to his masterpiece.

OF PERSIAN RUGS, SPECIFICALLY

Chapter V

To describe in detail the characteristics of all the classes of rugs and carpets that have been mentioned would be hardly possible, even with a hundred object lessons. The peculiar features of some of them, however, may be noted. But first be it observed that the term “antique” as applied to rugs is generally sadly abused. A rug is not beautiful simply because it is old. It must have been fine when new, it must have been carefully preserved, and it must rejoice in a ripe old age. Time must have dealt kindly with it, and only softened and mellowed its original beauties. Let the antiques which are but rags and tatters, however valuable for their design, hang in the museums, where they belong! The only merit of one of these genuine remnants of three or four centuries ago is in their originality of design. They were creations and not imitations, and made by true artists and not merely skilled weavers. Choose you, instead, a more modern rug of fine quality which will improve from year to year as long as you may live to enjoy it.

It may also be premised that the sizes of rugs run from about three feet to six feet wide by four to ten feet long. Few rugs approach squareness, and rugs wider than seven or eight feet are classed as carpets.

Some of the most beautiful pieces used to come, and still do, in the form of “strips,” “hall rugs,” or “stair rugs,” according to trade parlance. They are worthy of a better name, which is their Persian term, “Kinari.” They were made in pairs to complete the carpeting of a Persian room, being placed on either side of a centre rug, with two shorter strips at the top and bottom. More fine specimens of these long strips are now to be found than of smaller sizes, and they should not be neglected by the collector. By artistic arrangement and device they will accommodate themselves to almost any house, somewhere, and few choicer prizes can be bought to-day.