When our trade was in wealth Our women had health, We silks, rich embroideries and satins, Fine stuffs and good crapes For each ord'nary trapes That is destin'd to hobble in pattins; But now we've a Chince For the wife of a prince, And a butterfly gown for a gay dame, Thin painted old sheets For each trull in the streets To appear like a Callico Madam. [Illustration: HAND-PRINTED CHINTZ. Exotic-Bird style. Middle Eighteenth Century.] [Illustration: HAND-PRINTED CHINTZ. Gothic style. Late Eighteenth Century.] The poet in several long stanzas warms in his indignation, and finally directs his verse against the male friends of all fair wearers of chintzes, suggesting that-- "It's no matter at all If the Prince of Iniquity had 'em, Or that each for a bride Should be cursedly tied To some damn'd Callico Madam." It is not surprising that the weavers should find it difficult to set their productions against those of the cloth-printers, for the chintzes of this period are surpassingly beautiful. One of them is illustrated on p. 323. Here the material is no longer a rough canvas, but is now a light dress cambric, similar to the thin smooth chintz cloth which has survived till to-day. A delicate pattern of intertwining stems winds upwards, the stalks having blossoms of finely cut outline and brilliant colours. Old chintzes of this period may be recognised by their lightness and by the long thin designs of intermingling flowers of Indian type. These were all more or less borrowed from the Marsupalitan printed cloths brought over by the India trading companies, and the flowers and colourings of this date are nearly always very closely copied from Eastern originals, the cornflower and carnation being among those most frequently met with. The ill-feeling between the printers and weavers was of long duration, and eventually took the form of open riots and street demonstrations similar to those of to-day. On one occasion, in 1719, they went from Spitalfields to Westminster and protested against the popularity of chintzes and suggested that their use be forbidden. On the return journey they manifested their feelings by tearing off the chintz gowns of various ladies whom they met upon the route. Evidently Parliament pandered to these labour riots, for in 1736 printed cloths were forbidden by Act of Parliament, but this legislation was of short duration; the Act was soon repealed and the fascinating material became the rage once more.