1Eugénie established St Michael’s Abbey, Farnborough, in 1884 after the death of her husband Louis Napoleon Bonaparte (Napoleon III) and their son, the Prince Imperial, in the preceding decade. The Abbey sits within the ample grounds of Farnborough Hill, a neo-gothic mansion first purchased by Eugénie from the Longman family in 1884. [1] The Empress was drawn to the property primarily by its being able to easily accommodate the building of an abbey in which to house her deceased family; the mansion is now a private girls’ school but the abbey still retains its original purpose and a set of religious apparel known as the Imperial Vestments. These vestments, part of the Imperial Collection at Farnborough, are all connected to Eugénie in different ways. This article aims to view evidence from various sources that would substantiate the oral history tradition of the Brothers of St Michael’s Abbey and thus bind these items to a wider Napoleonic heritage. It is my contention that this evidence confirms that the ‘Wedding Vestments’ in the Farnborough collection are composed of fabric used in Eugénie’s state wedding gown and that the ‘Sultan of Turkey’s Vestments’ have strong links with the Empress. This study draws on disparate avenues of research and sheds new light on Eugénie’s consumption and retention of textiles, particularly during the period of her exile (1870-1920).

I – Eugénie: A Political Clothes Horse or Intelligent Dresser?

2As Empress of the French between 1853 and 1870 Eugénie revealed a predilection for fine, modish clothing. [2] Indeed a myth has evolved whereby she is thought to have been frivolously obsessed with her clothes. [3] However, whilst European periodicals, magazines and newspapers made abundant and plentiful references to the clothes Eugénie wore, she was not, as I have shown elsewhere, ‘absorbed by chiffons’. [4]

3On the other hand, she did take her dressing seriously. Much of the available evidence indicates that when she was in the public sphere Eugénie adhered strictly to the rules of etiquette that she herself governed but when given the opportunity in private, was keen to exercise her own more relaxed taste in attire. She keenly felt the restrictions imposed on her and certainly appreciated the necessities of practical clothing. [5] We know from contemporary accounts that ‘the ladies of the household always appeared in low-necked dresses in the evening, as the Empress did herself, and on ordinary occasions they wore but few jewels’ as was the standard practise of the time. [6] We also know that Eugénie, as dictated by the rigors of her station, made frequent changes in her clothing during the course of a day, the result being a high demand for new fashion on a regular basis. To some extent it is perceptible that her exalted position led her to feel it ‘incumbent on her to foster the luxury trades’. [7] Indeed, it was a topos in France and elsewhere, that the monarchy had a responsibility to ‘set the example for luxury’, despite the extreme negativity that often arose from this conspicuous display of affluence. [8]

4One oft quoted example of this political or national responsibility is an incident whereby Worth (Eugénie’s primary couturier from 1860 onwards, [9] she continued to patronise her other dressmakers concurrently) presented his first creation to the Empress – a gown of beige Lyons silk: the design taken from a Chinese fan. [10] The Empress’ is said to have reacted with distaste: comparing the out-modish design of the fabric to curtain stuff and dubbing subsequent gowns of similar appearance her ‘robes politiques’. [11] Noting Eugénie’s reaction, Worth appealed to Louis-Napoleon, explaining the economic significance of promoting Lyons silk, particularly as a visit to the town was imminent. De Marly observes that the Emperor’s decision to overrule Eugénie’s own taste and appeal to her political duties set a precedent for Worth who then felt he was in a position to approach the Empress with any item if he felt it would be beneficial to that item or trade. [12]

5Some sources assert that while ensuring Imperial etiquette was observed on formal occasions Eugénie would soon simplify her dress while ‘at home’ or when partaking in physical exercise, of which, she was an enthusiastic observer. [13] A lady in Eugénie’s court, Mme Carette, commented in a letter to Eugénie’s sister, Paca, that ‘luxury is the necessary appendage of sovereigns; tastes in toilette the privilege of handsome and intelligent women’, and that while Eugénie would spend lavishly on her public representation (she felt herself a ‘slave of court etiquette’), she would observe practicalities in everyday dress that she could have otherwise shunned in favour of the sumptuousness of her formal attire. [14] Whilst it is true that such observations could be seen as conscious attempts to counter the general opinion that Eugénie was obsessed with luxury, and that this concerted emphasis on her very simple taste in fact simply proves the contrary (and indeed, it is no surprise that affable contemporaries at Eugénie’s court should wish to portray her in a more favourable light than other more journalistic sources), the very nature of procurement and consumption of the time demonstrates Eugénie’s flexibility in this area. At a time when it would have been typically expected of a head of state to bespeak their entire wardrobe, Eugénie is known to have reverted, on more than one occasion, to the convenience of the mass produced or ready made: the Empress owned at least one off the peg dressing gown, and was not above purchasing pre-made items from locals while on her travels. [15] Such items at the time were widely adopted by the lower classes, but rarely called upon by the upper echelons of society due to the inherent poor quality and duplicate nature.
The observational evidence we have, when collated, presents what can be considered a sound foundation on which to base an analysis of the clothes Eugénie wore. Decadently voluminous layers of tulle, silk and lace fill the descriptions in periodicals from 1857-1862, all of which serves to affirm the widely proliferated perception of the Empress, as do numerous reports from contemporaries including Queen Victoria. [16] Available in conjunction with this evidence are a variety of pictorial sources which go some way to illustrate how Eugénie chose to present her ‘formal’(and thus, Imperial) self. Winterhalter’s depictions of the Empress reflect in every way the lengthy descriptions in the Ladies’ Magazine and other texts. [17] Such is the overwhelming strength of these sources that when contemporary voices challenge the assumption that Eugénie wore such clothes all of the time it is tempting to make assumptions based on the other extreme. The truth concerning Eugénie’s own taste however must lie in striking a precarious equilibrium between the public and private spheres and concurrently analysing the two.
Capitalising on the national nostalgia for the First Empire, Louis-Napoléon chose to emulate the etiquette employed at the Court of Napoleon I. As a result, state occasions saw women in classical white and men in knee breeches. [18] Louis-Napoleon then went on to prohibit the wearing a gown more than once; a stricture which greatly stretched the resources of courtiers. [19] Such rigors seem to have impacted more evidently on Eugénie herself, although it has been suggested that this prohibition applied to state ensembles and not everyday dress, something that would indicate the possibility that a large number of state gowns, currently unconnected to the Empress, are still be extant. [20] This is particularly probable in light of the fact that it is known that her gowns were often sold in Paris to Americans, the custom being to pass on ‘old’attire to one’s ladies who would in turn sell them on, it not being socially acceptable to wear them publicly themselves [21]. This policy of mono-use (and so high turnover) might also explains the Empress’ prolific charitable donations, which over the years consisted of many things including large quantities of her very petite shoes. Eugénie was furthermore keen to publicize her philanthropy and was noted for her particular support of children and young women. It was very early on in her reign that she first showed a preference for donating fabric or items of clothing for charitable purposes, this trend can also be seen during the period of her exile. [22] Having been raised by her father in an atmosphere of austerity, it is likely that Eugénie attached greater importance to the ownership of fine textile items than she might have done had she been brought up surrounded by splendid things. [23]

II – Escape to England: What Survived the Fall of the Empire

6Constructing and verifying lost provenance is, in part, what this article aims to explore. It is by forging links between previously disparate sources that it becomes possible to elucidate how certain items within the Imperial group of vestments remain extant. Certain facts are known of these items that are most effectively verified through a chronological and causative approach.

7Eugénie’s flight to England has been well documented by eye witnesses: the Empress left without luggage, and indeed, with as little as a reticule containing a few handkerchiefs. [24] This poses the question of how many extant items dating from 1870 and before could be definitively linked with Eugénie, or in this instance, what textiles survived on English soil. Fundamental in determining what articles Eugénie retained while in England is the eye witness account of a Comte D’Hérisson, whose evidence will be addressed shortly. Following Louis-Napoleon’s capitulation the Tuileries Palace was defaced and all signs of dynastic occupation were removed, although it is unclear, if and to what extent, it was looted: some measures were taken by the new administration to restrict comings and goings at the Palace. It is likely that the wardrobe apartments were subject to minor pilfering after Eugénie’s flight, which would explain some, not inconsiderable, losses. (D’Hérisson himself mentions the ‘terrified household […] hastening along the corridors, looking for the keys to lock up the wardrobes’, before desirous hands could lay claim to HIM’s attire. [25] On 6 September 1870, the Republican Government of National Defence sequestered Louis- Napoleon’s estate and ordered its liquidation. [26] Subsequent reports suggest that personal items of clothing did not feature in the extensive sale of Imperial effects auctioned by the state in 1871. If this was the case, and no other intervention had been taken, the implication would have been that the skeletal remains of Eugénie’s wardrobe could have remained in situ up to when the Tuileries was burned down. [27] Worth considering are the changing prerogatives that would have accompanied the siege period; the prolonged isolation would give rise to the basest of priorities – and what use could fancy goods have other than for providing warmth as attire or kindling?

8In fact, evidence suggests that a considerable quantity of textile goods and personal belongings escaped from the Tuileries in the immediate period following Eugénie’s flight; the memoirs of D’Hérisson provide valuable insight into the wardrobe apartments and also what was rescued for the Empress. As a staff officer in the French army, D’Hérisson was under the command of General Trochu. In his memoirs D’Hérisson paints himself as a devoted and somewhat star struck individual motivated by selflessness and a sense of patriotic dignity. His expression of wish to ‘save the petticoats’ of the Empress appears well meaning, though in his own words he received no reward for his efforts and it is hard to believe he undertook such a task without hope of some form of recognition. Nevertheless, as a direct result of D’Hérisson’s duly sanctioned and decisive action there are a large number of legitimately traceable extant items dating from this time, and this aids in determining exactly what textiles Eugénie had with her when she came to England. [28] It is certainly the case that clothes surviving in England dating from before the fall of the Empire could only have come into Eugénie’s immediate possession through D’Hérisson. D’Hérisson’s account of his undertaking provides a thorough description of Eugénie’s wardrobe ‘apartments’ that were above her living quarters at the Tuileries Palace. He tells us that ‘both of us, [ he and a chamber maid of the Empress] set to work on the most fantastic packing that can well be imagined. The chamber-maid emptied the wardrobes, and we bundled into the boxes, just as they were, the whole of the feminine belongings, which certainly had never previously been treated so unceremoniously and so rudely. Our fifteen boxes were crammed, and yet the wardrobes seemed as full as ever’. [29]

9D’Hérisson’s assertion that ‘the whole of the feminine belongings’ were packed at this stage, in fact, proves inaccurate as he goes on to express that further packing was required in order to send all the personal belongings of the Empress on their way. It is not difficult to imagine that the items that found themselves within one of these fifteen trunks were the only items of clothing Eugénie had in England to begin with, with the exception of those garments she travelled in and items given to her by Mrs Evans on route. [30] There were reports that Eugénie had only ‘two score new dresses ready to put on’, which may seem plentiful to modern standards, but this would have been painfully little for a sovereign accustomed to numerous changes according to the occasion and time of day. [31] D’Hérisson’s account makes it quite clear that when he concluded his task he had completely emptied the wardrobe apartments, which suggests that Eugénie, in time, was reacquainted with her entire wardrobe – with the exception of a collection of furs retained by the court furrier. [32] Later auction records document the textile goods listed within Farnborough Hill after Eugénie’s death and it is correlations between these records and D’Hérisson’s account that point us towards likely surviving items. [33] The discovery of a rare copy of the auctioneer’s catalogue from the 1924 Farnborough Hill auction further links Eugénie’s wardrobe with extant textiles - verifying the provenance of a collection in the care of the Bowes museum.
At least two sets of vestments at Farnborough Abbey have component fabrics originating from Eugénie’s reign in France. In addition to the items D’Hérisson is known to have rescued, other Imperial effects were purchased by family members in France and passed back to Eugénie after September 1870, although it is not believed that clothes were among these items; the only textiles known to be mentioned are household linens. [34] Further Imperial effects were returned to Eugénie many years after the fall of the Empire, and it is known that a quantity of historic and sentimental items were rescued on her behalf while she lived at Chislehurst. In addition, the heirs of Louis-Napoleon were reimbursed of 8,886,777.98f in 1873 to compensate for the sequestered personal effects of the late Emperor. [35]
Understanding what motivated the exiled Empress to donate fine textile mementoes of her reign to be made into vestments is key to understanding their provenance. While Eugénie was, of course, known for her piety and benevolence, which would be motive enough for donation, another significant contributory factor would have been her actual requirement for these items and her long term adoption of mourning dress. There are hints that Eugénie first began to ere towards austerity in dress during the last days of the Empire, which would reflect Taylor’s assertion that mourning might be adopted as an ‘expression of nationalism’ or familial conformity. [36] It is known that Eugénie formally adopted morning dress after the death of her husband, as dictated by contemporary etiquette. She reportedly laid off her black after the prescribed period in order not to unduly darken the youth of her son, for whom at that stage, she still had bright expectations. By 1879, Eugénie had lost both her husband and son and after the formal period of mourning had ended continued to wear her widow’s weeds. All photographs of her from this period show her in very dark colours; oral accounts affirm that these clothes were black. [37] In addition, many of the extant textiles held locally by Hampshire Museum Service and thought to have belonged to Eugénie, are items of mourning which exhibit the trefoil motif. This prevailing adoption of black implies that Eugénie would have no need for colourful silks of the sort rescued for her by D’Hérisson, except perhaps in household furnishings and vestiture; and this indicates an amendment in the strictures of etiquette she had always upheld. [38]

III – The Imperial Vestments

10Within the collection of Imperial Vestments at Farnborough there are two vestment groups that can be firmly tied to Eugénie, the origins of others in the collection are unsubstantiated and are based solely on the oral history tradition of the Farnborough monks. [39] The five vestment groups discussed here are the ‘Wedding Vestments’, the ‘Sultan of Turkey’s Vestments’, the ‘Roman Vestments’, the ‘Emperor’s Funeral Vestments’ and the ‘Empress’s Funeral Vestments’.

11As might be expected, both the colours and the iconography exhibited on the vestments within the Imperial collection have meaning within a broader historical context. The principle colours used in the manufacture of vestiture were laid down ‘at the end of the twelfth century […] by Innocent III’. [40] Despite this edict, over time, individual locales continually diverged from this canon and secular fashions have impacted on the hues employed in vestiture. Having said this, the last two centuries have seen a universal re-adoption of the tenet. [41] Items in the Imperial collection broadly adhere to the Roman canon, which specifies that: white should be used for Easter Sunday, Trinity Sunday, for all feasts of the Virgin, for St Michael and All Angels, for the feast days of the Apostles and of the principle saints; red should be employed for Whitsun and for the martyrs; black or violet could be used more or less inter-changeably […]for Good Friday and for mourning; green and yellow were also similarly indistinguishable and used for the Sundays from Trinity to Advent and Epiphany to Lent. The diversity of choice in secular textiles was rapidly absorbed into ecclesiastics and by the nineteenth century the practice of using specifically designed textiles was as established as the custom of refashioning dress textiles for use in vestments. [42] The possibilities in vestment colour and design by the end of the nineteenth century, as a result, were limitless.

12While the colours employed in vestiture have undergone a slow process of alteration since the transition from secular to religious use, so too has their physical construction. The cut of ecclesiastical attire is inherited from secular clothing worn in the late classical period, during which time the majority of garments were voluminous and loose fitting. [43] The cut of the vestments within the Imperial group are typical of the Gothic-Revival style that took precedence during the nineteenth century, whereby the streamlined shapes of the eighteenth century were enlarged to resemble the earlier, medieval cut.

13The cut of such vestments is detailed in Viollet le duc’s text Dictionnaire raisonné du Mobilier Franc?ais de l’époque carolingienne à la Renaissance. Wherein it can be noted that a bell chasuble dating from the eleventh century was composed of a single circular piece of fabric with a central hole for the head to pass through, with the opposite points around the circumference falling in lateral folds across the body of the wearer. [44] Examples of the ‘Latin’ or ‘Straight’ chasuble from the sixteenth, seventeenth and eighteenth centuries exhibit flatter sides, appearing rather more oval than circular. [45]

14The revival style that the Imperial vestments are influenced by was a broad artistic phenomenon in England and the United States that emerged during the first half of the nineteenth century; sparked by a resurgence in interest in a medieval way of life. Ruskin and Pugin were two of the key figures instrumental in proliferating a renaissance of the Gothic. There was a focus on Gothic as an expression of architectural honesty – on composing architectural forms in such a way that their logic and fluidity gave explanation for their existence. While Pugin’s stance reflected a Christian ideal of purity in architecture, Ruskin was more secular in his approach and advocated an appreciation of the seven ‘lamps’ or spirits of the art form. [46] Examples of the revival style are limited outside of England and the United States, where the resurgence was more widespread. However, isolated individuals on the continent did attempt to lead the way in their own countries. Eugène-Emmanuel Viollet le Duc was one such individual. The revival style gathered popularity in France during the period of the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy and during the Second Empire the regime was similarly committed to enhancing a sense of historicism in France’s great Cathedrals and palaces. [47] Rheims, Carcassonne and Amiens were all worked on extensively by Viollet and Louis Napoléon employed him to ‘restore’ the palace at Pierrefonds. [48] While known as an advocate for the medieval style, Viollet’s approach was purist in the extreme and would insist on removing historic features that did not conform to his ideal of ‘gothic’. As a result, much of Viollet’s work represents a very nineteenth-century interpretation of Gothic; the embellishments he added often went far beyond restoration. [49] As a favoured artisan, Viollet was employed in producing the interior decoration for the Imperial wedding, which appears to have been a feast of medieval pageantry: ‘Streamers of immense length floated from the lofty towers […] the spaces in the belfries were covered with tapestry.[…]. The niches, […] have been restored, at least in appearance; and the rich crimson tint, imitating velvet, the variety of the tapestries, of escotcheons [sic], of crowns and garlands, and streamers and oriflammes, which adorn the interior and the exterior of the building presented a coup-d’œil of the most striking kind’ [50].
Eugénie’s preference for this style can thus be traced to her patronage of Viollet. It is not surprising that Farnborough Hill is a prime example of neo –Gothicism in England, an appropriate choice for Eugénie; many of the motifs that appear in the Imperial vestments are resonant of the medieval style, including the trefoil, quatrefoil and cross fleury. [51] Within this homage to Gothic, Eugénie retained a private chapel, evidence of her devotional activities and perhaps reason to retain vestiture within her home. [52]

IV – The Wedding Vestments: The Vestments Today

15It is believed by the monks of St Michael’s Abbey that the fabric used in this set of vestments was taken from Eugénie’s State wedding gown: carefully unpicked and reused. [53] This oral history tradition can be substantiated through a series of sources, both documentary and pictorial. While the traditional view of the monastery is that a Brother Zerr made these items, though one documentary source suggests that at least a chasuble was made by one of the Empress’s ladies: ‘Her Majesty’s wedding dress was converted into white vestments, which are used at the great festivals of the church. The Duchesse de Mouchy made one of the chasubles’. [54]

16The items comprising the wedding vestment set are: one chasuble, a tunicle, a dalmatic, three stoles and a chalice veil. We know from Legge [55] that it is likely that Eugénie’s ladies helped to work these items – his suggestion that there may have been more than one chasuble implies that this set is not complete and indeed, of the whole collection, this group has the fewest items. [56] The main body of each item is composed of ivory or white coloured ribbed silk or velvet épinglé, much sewn together, see Figure 1.

Figure 1

Detailing on rear of the Wedding Chasuble

Detailing on rear of the Wedding Chasuble

Figure 2

IHS detailing on the Wedding Chasuble

IHS detailing on the Wedding Chasuble

17The fabric has been described in numerous secondary sources simply as ‘velvet’ but examination of the vestments revealed a much shorter pile than expected and a description in the Illustrated London News verifies that the gown was velvet épinglé; otherwise known as Genoa velvet and available in all weights from the most robust through to lighter examples such as that employed in Eugénie’s gown. [57] The chasuble is made with approximately six pieces of silk, the two principal pieces being central on both front and back. The set is lined with vivid ochre silk. The lining does not appear to have been cut from another garment as it has no joins or cuts. The orphreys of both back and front of the chasuble are heavily adorned with thick gold and silk embroidery of a floral design edged with red and some green couched silk. The rear orphrey is a Latinate fork cross and has been worked separately from the chasuble and attached at a later date, as is often the case with ecclesiastical textiles. [58] The ground of the orphrey and apparels are of yellow silk damask, edging this ground are narrow bands of red and gold braid. The braid has been attached independently of the orphrey and is of deep red and gold. The front of the chasuble is surmounted by a decorative lozenge bounded by floral scrolls in raised giltwork. The outline of the figuring is in red silk and reads I H S with a cross Trefflée, the lettering has gold sequins applied centrally to each letter [59] falling vertically through the H. (The first three letters of Jesus’ name in Greek majuscule). The hems are not banded but the collar does have a braid of gold. The cuffs of the dalmatic and tunicle have apparels that match the decoration across the set. Attached to the dalmatic are two large gold tassels, a fashion much used in sixteenth century Spanish vestments and seen revived in a diluted form here, possibly by preference of the Empress. (see figure 3)

Figure 3

Tassel detail on the ‘Wedding Vestments’

Tassel detail on the ‘Wedding Vestments’

V – The Wedding Gown

18From noting the measurements of the pieces now present in the group it is possible to begin to deduce how much fabric was available to Brother Zerr and the others who are reported to have made the vestments. [60] Calculations from these items and the remnant pieces suggest that up to seven metres of silk may have been employed in its production. Since a fashionable gown of 1853 could use up to thirty metres of fabric, it seems reasonable to suggest that the whole of the original garment is not present in the imperial wedding vestments. [61] It is possible that parts of the gown were unusable once they had been unpicked: for example, the bodice would have been composed of approximately eight pieces (varying according to cut) of irregular shape and size. [62] In addition to the foundation textile the gown was adorned with extensive flounces of point Alençon lace.

Figure 4

Eugenie in her wedding gown

Eugenie in her wedding gown

19Given the description ‘Wedding Vestments’, it is perhaps logical to consider Eugénie’s trousseau as the source of the material. From the numerous reports on the Empress’ nuptial trousseau, we get a clear image of the garments involved. Records show that Eugénie patronised ‘Palmyre and Vignon [and that she had] ordered fifty-two dresses for her trousseau […] from them. All the French textile manufacturers had been requested to produce their most beautiful materials, taffetas and antique moiré silks. […’]’. [63] The Illustrated London News regaled its readers with an extensive description of the trousseau in its 5 March 1853 edition, noting that the trousseau apparently contained numerous gowns luxuriously furnished variously with ‘embossed gold and silver bees and violets’, ‘gold blonde flounces’, ‘net sprinkled with violet bouquets mingled with gold and silver’ amongst profusions of lace and tulle. [64]
The wedding gown worn on 30 January, 1853, would have had a vastly different appearance to those items now stored at Farnborough Abbey. The original garment that the vestments are thought to be made from can be seen depicted in Figure 4. This image corresponds with several descriptions of the Empress during her religious marriage (at the Civil ceremony the day before Eugénie wore rose taffeta). Most descriptions place emphasis on the flounces. Indeed the flounces were so extensive that the only word one German observe could find for the creation was ‘duft’. [65] The Illustrated London News informed its readers that ‘the dress for the religious marriage was made by Mme. Vignon; it is in velvet épinglé, with a train, and covered with point d’Angleterre; the corsage à basques, decked with diamonds. Point à Angleterre was chosen for this dress, on account of the veil, which could not be obtained in point d’Alençon’. [66] It is presumed that after the festivities the wedding gown in question was safely packed away within the Empress’ wardrobe apartments and was thus present when D’Hérisson made his salvage attempt on Eugénie’s behalf and subsequently found itself in one of the fifteen trunks.

VI – Oriental Splendour – The Sultan of Turkey’s Vestments

20The oral history tradition of the brothers of St Michael’s suggests that the fabric used in this set of vestments was a gift to Eugénie on her voyage to attend the opening of the Suez Canal. Its very survival suggests that it was rescued by D’Hérisson and kept by Eugénie until she chose to have it made into vestments for the Abbey some time after 1883 and was possibly part embroidered by the Empress and her ladies. [67] D’Hérisson, during his foray into the Imperial wardrobe, described the quantities of similarly exotic items present: ‘wardrobes […] containing […] mantles, petticoats, supplies of linen, lace, materials in pieces, and a considerable stock of Chinese silks’. [68]

21This group of vestments is comprised of: one chasuble, three copes, a dalmatic, a tunicle, a humeral veil, two stoles (one a deacon’s), a burse, a chalice veil and three maniples. It is immediately clear that when this set of vestments was made there was much more fabric to work with, than seen in other sets within the Imperial collection. The decorative theme across the group features apparels and orphreys [69] of a dark red velvet ground embellished with symmetrical floral motifs in gold. The small flower that is repeated in five pairs on the rear of the chasuble is a quatrefoil and it has four leaves in addition to its petals; it appears with regularity on both the orphrey and on other apparels. [70] In addition to the five pairs of quatrefoils, the rear orphrey displays three Greek or quadrate cross fleurettée. [71] The ground employed on all the items in this set is formed of unbroken lengths of crimson silk heavily woven with gold filé thread. (Figures 5 & 6)

Figure 5

Close up of gold thread, the Turkish Vestments

Close up of gold thread, the Turkish Vestments

Figure 6

Detailing from the Turkish Vestments

Detailing from the Turkish Vestments

22Examination of this set of vestments reveals that the items were cut from a previously unused piece of fabric; there are no unnecessary seams, no unsightly joins and certainly no signs of previous use. This evidence combined with the fact that it is known that Eugénie was a great hoarder of beautiful fabrics, lends credence to the monks’ gift claim. [72] The cut of the chasuble is typical of the Gothic-Revival style popular in the mid to late nineteenth century and as such is rather wider than its earlier counterparts, and the garment was cut from one piece of fabric and features some key gothic motifs. The orphrey is linear in form - a standard latin fimbriated cross - and is applied in burgundy velvet banded with gold braid. [73] The Gothic-Revival style and the apparent age of the silk all seem to corroborate the oral history tradition that the silk used was gifted to Eugénie by the Sultan of Turkey. Consultation with a group of textile specialists has also strengthened the possibility of Turkish origin for the fabric. [74]
The original fabric was purportedly acquired in October 1869 when Eugénie travelled, with a considerable retinue, to Ismailia for the ceremonial opening of the Suez canal accompanied by her cousin, Ferdinand de Lesseps (17 November, 1869). She travelled from Venice to Athens and then on to Constantinople. During her stay with the Khedive (or Viceroy) of Egypt it is known that she was offered gifts including a sumptuous carpet. [75] The Empress’ homeward journey saw her as the guest of the Sultan of Turkey (Abdul Aziz) at various locations along the canal, and it was on one of these occasions that it is believed a bolt of silk was gifted to her: ‘At eleven o’clock on the evening before H.I.M’s party was due to depart, the Sultan came to take leave of the Empress, presenting her with some beautiful stuffs and marvellous carpets’. [76] It may also be the case that the Empress purchased the fabric herself, as there is evidence that she had the opportunity to do so: ‘That evening we turned the bales of the Turkish merchants who had come to the palace inside out and the Empress bought a number of things’. [77]

Figure 7

Close up of the embroidery on the Roman Vestments

Close up of the embroidery on the Roman Vestments

VII – Evocative Imagery - The ‘Roman’ Vestments

23It is thought that these vestments were given to St Michael’s Abbey by the Empress as a gift during her lifetime. It would appear from the heavily patriotic imagery that they either originate from France and were recovered by D’Hérisson (which seems unlikely, though not impossible, given what we know about the contents of Eugénie’s personal wardrobe) or they were made on Eugénie’s orders in England. It is rumoured that they date from the First Empire. Though this latter claim is difficult to substantiate, if it is to be believed, the survival of at least the decorative apparels could be as a result of D’Hérisson’s rescue efforts; and if this is not the case, they could still have come from France and were recovered in the Civil List auctions of 1871.

24The set comprises a chasuble, two maniples, two stoles, a burse, a tunicle and a dalmatic. The chasuble is not in the original ground; the orphrey has been applied at a later date. This can be seen simply from evidenced in the differing grounds, which can be seen to contrast in Figures 7. The decorative motifs used in this set are elaborate and heavily worked. The imagery used is highly evocative of the First Empire – combining militarism with concepts of ancient Roman democracy. Given Louis-Napoleon’s foundation of the Second Empire on a revival of his uncle’s success, it is fully possible that similar symbols would have been employed to the same effect had these orphrey’s been produced during either the First or Second Empire. (Figures 8 & 9)

25Whilst holding overt political meaning the decorative motifs employed across the set may also stem from a biblical analogy: St Paul’s ‘whole armour of God’. Padfield identifies the ‘girdle of truth’, ‘the breastplate of righteousness’, ‘feet shod with […] preparation’, ‘the shield of faith’, ‘the helmet of salvation’ and the ‘sword of the spirit’. [78] This is perhaps a convenient coincidence that combines the religious with the political in this vestment set. As is customary, the rear of the chasuble is the most decorative: with the overlarge Latinate orphrey dominating the surface. Interspersed across the ground of the orphrey are palm, olive and laurel leaves; the colours in each leaf are heavily variegated. Below the central roundel the heavy embellishment continues: first in the form of an armorial crest with the ‘N’ cipher prominent in the centre. [79] The shield is mounted in front of a crossed axe and military staff, with the Napoleonic laurel and eagle. Napoleonic imagery was mindfully selected to invoke Roman ideals of military prowess and classical republican luxury, without carrying the connotations of Royalty so abhorred in the new Republic. The bee is omitted from this design. Below the ‘N’ blazon is a roman military helmet (of salvation), the relief of which raises it some way above the ground of the fabric. At the foot of the orphrey, it is interesting to note the continual reaffirmation of Napoleonic values in the presence of violet coloured ribbons. Also present on the group is a shield, with a girdle draped over it -with a sword in the background. Motifs of blazon, helmet, sword, shield, girdle, pike and tunic appear across the whole group and represent the most heavily worked element of the design. They are primarily manufactured in gold and silver and both filé and grisé thread has been utilised.

Figure 8

Napoleonic imagery on the Roman Vestments

Napoleonic imagery on the Roman Vestments

26These vestments appear to have been variously altered over time: there are two different grounds used in the set, which have been matched sufficiently well to give the outward appearance of uniformity. It is only on closer inspection that one realises that in fact, the ground of the orphrey, the burse and parts of the tunicle and dalmatic are of an older textile. The fabric is an ivory-coloured watered-silk damask with additional pale ochre elements. (Figure 7) The ground is lightly ribbed giving a slightly darker appearance. At Eugénie’s death, vestment sets were listed in the clearance of Farnborough Hill which indicates that the Empress had a propensity to retain vestiture within her own collection. It is possible that this Roman vestment set was just such a one and that it originates from D’Hérisson’s rescued hoard.

Figure 9

Detail on the Roman Vestments

Detail on the Roman Vestments

VIII – Funereal Display: The Emperor’s Funeral Vestments

27We know that these vestments were created for use during the Emperor’s funeral on 15 January, 1873, [80] and that the funeral pall used to cover the coffin was of the same fabric: ‘A pall of violet velvet, embroidered with the Napoleonic bees and traversed by a large cross, is thrown over the coffin and over those who carry it with solemn steps’. [81] The set that now rests in St Michael’s is comprised of a Gothic-Revival style chasuble, two dalmatics, a humeral veil, stole, tunicle, chalice veil and a bourse. There is also a quantity of excess fabric.

28The decorative theme continued across all items in this set and comprises an uncut purple velvet ground embellished with appliquéd gold coloured silk which has been outlined with couched gold thread (Figure 10). The centre of the orphrey exhibits a large diagonal cross and the symbols ? ?. (the Greek capital letters alpha and the omega, symbolising the beginning and the end of all things). As with the Sultan of Turkey’s vestments, the apparels in this set exhibit some of the key gothic revival motifs.

29It is quite probable that this set of vestments in purple, cut or worked velvet is the same as that mentioned in a 1927 inventory taken from Farnborough Hill:
2531: A set of Ecclesiastical vestments, in purple velvet, with gold braided borders and fringes: Chasuble, stole, maniple, chalice veil and bourse.

Figure 10

The Emperor’s Funeral Vestments detail

The Emperor’s Funeral Vestments detail

30Despite the discrepancy in the components of the set, the description of the fabric and the dates involved seem too similar not to be connected, and indeed the colour (deep purple) being popularly employed for occasions of royal morning. [82] If we compare the contents of what is assumed to be the original set (as mentioned in Lot 2536) with what now exists, it becomes clear that more items have materialised during the lapse of time between 1927 and the present. It has been suggested that these ‘magnificent purple vestments, in velvet, were made from the pall which covered the Emperor’s coffin’, [83] but it would seem more likely that the original set of vestments was added to using material from the pall, itself variously used in order to both create new ecclesiastical items and to repair and replace those items worn or damaged over time. There are also reports that the drapes hung in the room where Napoleon III lay in state were employed in the making of the vestments. This latter theory is problematic; the short space of time between the lying in State and funeral would mean a very quick turnaround if the vestments were to be produced in time. And although the apparels could have been quite easily have been taken from another vestment set and applied to newly made garments, there is no evidence that the apparels use a different ground. [84]

IX – Community Remembrance: The Empress’s Funeral Vestments

31This set was given to the Abbey in 1902 by Lady Stuart and then went on to be used for the Empress’s own funeral. ‘The coffin was transported back to England and met at Farnborough station by monks and military, thence borne by gun carriage to the Abbey Church where the Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster celebrated the solemn requiem Mass and the Abbot of Farnborough preached. The congregation included King George V, Queen Mary, His Most Catholic Majesty King Alfonso of Spain and his Queen, the King of Portugal and his mother Queen Amalia. Prince Victor Napoleon and his wife Princess Clementine represented the Imperial family’. [85]

32This set comprises two chalice veils, a cope, chasuble, dalmatic, tunicle, three maniples, a bourse and two stoles.

33In this case the links with Eugénie are minimal and it is not thought that the component fabric is linked to the Empress in any other way. It is perhaps fitting that the quality of the fabric used in the vestments was high, and something that Eugénie would certainly have appreciated.(Figure 11)

Figure 11

The Empress’s Funeral Vestments, detail

The Empress’s Funeral Vestments, detail

X – Conclusion

34It is apparent for several of the vestment sets analysed here that the oral history tradition of St Michael’s Abbey can be substantiated. And that despite its weakness, the written oral evidence offers a strong and captivating explanation for the vestment’s origins. We know that Eugénie founded St Michael’s Abbey and was sufficiently religious to retain a chapel in her own home a mere two hundred metres from the abbey; Eugénie was a patron of Gothic-Revival style architects and had St Michael’s designed in this style, suggesting her tendency towards Neo-Gothic styling; Eugénie’s religious belief strengthened after the death of her son and she took strength from travelling and from her devotional activities; Eugénie had been known to donate textiles to religious and charitable establishments as early as 1853 and perhaps the most convincing argument for evidencing the survival of Eugénie’s textiles lies in the known significance they had for her, during her reign and exile.

35We know a great deal about the vicissitudes of the Wedding Vestments before their arrival at St Michael’s. We know precisely what Eugénie wore for the Civil and Religious ceremonies of her wedding, from the minutely documented wedding trousseau, from the thousands of people who were present for Louis-Napoleon and Eugénie’s processional to Nôtre Dame for the religious ceremony, and from the eye witnesses who documented the proceedings. [86] The establishment of the component fabrics of Eugénie’s State wedding gown made it possible to make the first connection with the vestments, and the numerous contemporary descriptions of the fabric offer an exact match for the vestment fabric. The second phase of analysis of these vestments explains the wedding gown’s survival, and phase three indicates how the gown found its way to Farnborough, both latter phases substantiated by primary accounts. The Sultan of Turkey’s vestments have a somewhat less concrete provenance; nevertheless the fabric is almost certainly of Turkish origin. Knowing a definite origin and a similarly definite final destination it is quite reasonable to suggest that the Turkish textile was rescued by D’Hérisson. The Roman vestments exhibit key Napoleonic motifs, their present location and component parts suggest that they are at least contemporary with Eugénie; it cannot however be definitively established that they derive from the time of the First Empire. The Emperor’s funeral vestments offer an insight into the methods of procurement that could be called into play should items be required at short notice. The violet fabric used originally as the pall served a dual purpose – as an embodiment of Napoleonic ideals, and as the colour employed for Royal mourning. And given Eugénie’s enthusiasm for interior decorating, [87] it is possible that her choice of violet velvet drapes may well be evidence an astute economic foresight. The final vestment group, employed for the Eugénie’s Funeral Mass, is set apart from the earlier groups since it does not originate from Eugénie.