One of the earliest modes of transmitting the history of important transactions to posterity was by recording them in long lines of pictorial representation. In the temples of Nimroud, in the sepulchres of Egypt, in the sculptures which entwine the columns of Trajan and Antonine at Rome, we have familiar examples of the practice. The Bayeux record is a large roll of historic drawings rather than a piece of tapestry; and it is remarkable as being the last example of this species of representation which antiquity has handed down to us. In the days of the Conqueror, and of some of his Saxon predecessors, the ladies of Engle-land were famous for their taste and skill in embroidery; and this species of lady-like manufacture was known throughout Europe as English work.[3] One effect of the Conquest was to bring the people of England and Normandy into closer alliance than before. On the first occasion on which William returned to Normandy, after the battle of Hastings, he took with him, “in honourable attendance,” a considerable number of the Saxon nobles,[4] who were doubtless accompanied by their wives and daughters. Assisted by English ladies, as well as by those of her own court, Matilda, the wife of the Conqueror, probably at this time constructed the Tapestry which for many ages was preserved in the Cathedral of Bayeux. Never, perhaps, was so important a document written in worsted. It is a full and a faithful chronicle of an event on which the modern history of the world has turned. It is referred to as an historical authority by nearly every writer who discusses the period. The way in which the subject is treated, the spirit shown in its design, and the harmony of its colouring, warrant us in pronouncing it to be a monument worthy of its reputed author, and of the event which it is designed to commemorate. It is, however, a double memorial; it is a record of the love and duty of William’s consort, as well as of the skill and valour of the great hero himself. A loving wife sympathizes with her husband in all his tastes. She takes an enthusiastic interest in his favourite pursuits; and she had “lever far,” to use an expression of Lady Payson’s, that success attended his efforts--that another leaf were added to his laurel crown--“than that she should have a new gown, though it were of scarlet.” Matilda could not bestride the war-horse, and do battle in the field by her husband’s side; but she could commit his exploits to the Tapestry. Surrounded by her ladies, all adroitly using their many-coloured threads, she-- Fought all his battles o’er again; And thrice [she] routed all his foes, and thrice [she] slew the slain.