G. Woolliscroft Rhead Chats on Costume 
 
 
 Transcriber's Note Pg 1 
 Characters in the original which had macrons 
 above them are shown as [=a] in this version. 
 
 
 
 PREFACE Pg 2 
 Needless to say the present work is far from exhausting the subject 
 of costume, which extends, indeed, over the whole field of history. 
 For reasons of space, neither ecclesiastical nor military costume is 
 touched upon. The book makes no pretensions to being anything more than 
 what its title suggests--a series of chats upon a subject which fills a 
 considerable place in the minds of, at any rate, the larger half of the 
 community. 
   
 While many works germane to the subject of costume have, of necessity, 
 been here largely drawn upon in the way of quotation, there will, at 
 the same time, be found a certain proportion of what may be described 
 as fresh material, the result of the author's acquaintance with the 
 subject in his individual practice as an artist. Indeed, the subject of 
 dress is, or should be, an artistic matter; it was so in the past, and 
 it will again, in the very near future, come to be recognised as one of 
 the Decorative Arts, requiring artistic knowledge, and some perception 
 of the fundamental laws of Design. 
   
 The author's thanks are particularly due to Mr. J. S. Sargent, R.A., 
 for his kind permission to reproduce his portrait of Miss Ellen Terry. 
   
 
 
 
 I (A GENERAL SURVEY) 
 That singular clothes-philosopher, Diogenes Teufelsdröckh, whose 
 revolutionary theories upon the subject of the "vestural tissue" first 
 burst upon an astonished world some seventy odd years ago, has, with 
 characteristic emphasis, drawn attention, amongst other things, to 
 the fact that man is the only animal who is not provided with some 
 Nature-made protection against the elements--a protection either of 
 fur, feather, hide, or what not. Bounteous Nature, however, always 
 kind, who never withholds a good without affording ample compensation, 
 has endowed man with that fertile brain and cunning hand whereby he may 
 convert hide into leather, wool of sheep into cloth, web of worm into 
 silk, flax and cotton into linen of various kinds, and so restore that 
 balance of endowment without which man would be at the mercy of every 
 wind that blew. 
   
 The uses of clothes, or costume--the words may be here taken as 
 synonymous--may be said to be threefold: first, for decency, which was 
 their first and apparently only use, as we may assume that in Eden the 
 sun always shone; secondly, for comfort and protection; thirdly, for 
 beauty and adornment. 
   
 First, then, for decency. That is sufficiently clearly established if 
 we may accept the Mosaic account of the world's juvenescence: "And 
 the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were 
 naked; and they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons"; 
 "Unto Adam also and to his wife did the Lord God make coats of skins 
 and clothed them."[1] This habit of observance of the decencies of 
 life appears to be common to all nations. No people or tribe, however 
 primitive the civilisation, but makes some sort of provision in this 
 respect. The Veddas of Ceylon make girdles of leaves, which gives 
 them a strangely fantastic appearance. We learn from the accounts of 
 travellers in Central Africa that "clothing, though extremely simple, 
 consisting of a little grass-cloth, ornaments of feathers, fur, shells, 
 glass and metal beads, are worn, and the skin is decorated by stripes 
 of paint or an extensive series of cicatrices." Among the aborigines 
 of the Malay Peninsula (Sakais) "the men wear a strip of bark-cloth 
 twisted round the waist and drawn between the legs. The women sometimes 
 wear small cotton-cloth petticoats (sarongs) purchased from the 
 Malays, and the men occasionally adopt Chinese trousers; but in their 
 native forests, however, none of these luxuries are indulged in." 
   
 [Illustration: THE COMTE D'ARTOIS AND MADEMOISELLE CLOTHILDE.] 
   
 Secondly, for comfort and protection. The climatic influence on dress 
 is, and must necessarily be, considerable. This is well illustrated by 
 the well-known fable of "The Wind and the Sun." The more boisterously 
 the wind blows, the more closely the man enwraps himself with his 
 cloak; the more fiercely the sun shines, the more the man divests 
 himself of raiment;[2] but between the skins of the Laplander, 
 fashioned by the help of a thorn or a fishbone for a needle, and the 
 sinews of the animal for thread, and the light gossamer clothing of 
 the countries of the East there is a vast range, the extent of which, 
 indeed, is almost boundless. Climate not only determines the amount or 
 degree of warmth or otherwise, but also, as in architecture, influences 
 its character both as to form and colour. Moreover, clothes are an 
 index to the character or temper of an individual or nation. "What 
 meaning lies in Colour! If the Cut betoken intellect and talent, so 
 does the Colour betoken temper and heart."[3] 
   
 [Illustration: CHARLES HOWARD, EARL OF NOTTINGHAM. 
   
 _Engraved by Thomas Cockson._] 
   
 Thirdly, for beauty and adornment--and it is with this latter aspect 
 that this work is mainly concerned. That clothes _should_ be beautiful 
 is an axiom which, one would think, might readily be accepted; that 
 clothes _have been_ beautiful is a fact which cannot be denied. (It is 
 only during the present utilitarian age that the æsthetic principle has 
 been lost sight of.) That clothes _might again_ be beautiful, without 
 suffering any loss on the score of utility, is also unquestionable. To 
 attempt to follow the whims and vagaries of that jade, Fashion, through 
 all her endless diversities and constant changes, would indeed be a 
 Herculean task, and might well appal the boldest he (or she, for that 
 matter) who would wield pen or pencil. 
   
 The will-o'-the-wisp of Fashion is, however, a less capricious person 
 than would appear at first sight. There is some method in her madness. 
 Similar types, similar decorative _motifs_, appear and reappear 
 through the centuries with the regularity of the changing seasons. 
 The veracious chronicler may therefore take some comfort from this 
 fact; it lightens his burden, and makes his task less difficult than 
 it would otherwise be. Moreover, dress, as in architectural form, to 
 the careful student of decorative development, presents really less 
 inherent variety than one would suppose; historical accuracy is the 
 favourite bugbear of pedants, and, while appreciating to the full the 
 great distinctiveness of such periods as the Elizabethan, the Stuart, 
 and the Georgian, there are certain primitive forms, certain leading 
 characteristics, which are common to most periods, and which, like 
 the poor, are always with us. One might hazard the contention that a 
 painter would be perfectly safe in introducing a pot-hat and a pair 
 of trousers at practically any period of the world's history--_not in 
 conjunction, mind_; no, that glorious consummation was reserved for 
 this happy age of ours. The Greeks, however, as is well known, wore 
 trousers. Some form of the trouser was worn by the lower classes at 
 most periods of English history. Ben Jonson makes Peniboy junior walk 
 in his "gowne, waistcoate, and _trouses_," expecting his tailor. Nay, 
 do we not read in the Old Testament--in _some_ Old Testaments, at any 
 rate--that even Adam and Eve made themselves--ahem!--breeches? As for 
 the pot-hat, its origin is lost in the maze of antiquity. It crops up 
 in its various developments at all sorts of odd times and periods. A 
 fearsome variety of it is to be seen upon the head of Jan Arnolfini 
 in Van Eyck's picture in the National Gallery. It appears in Durer's 
 engravings and woodcuts, woolly, hairy structures, occasionally of 
 abnormal height. It is perhaps not generally known that it occurs in 
 the Raphael cartoons ("Paul preaching at Athens"). One would have 
 imagined such a singular appearance as a pot-hat, in such surroundings, 
 to have been evident at first sight. The reason it was not so was on 
 account of its colour (vermilion). Had it been black, one would have 
 spotted it at once; and this fact, when one comes to consider it, is 
 a little singular, since, if one were to march down Piccadilly some 
 fine afternoon crowned in a vermilion pot-hat, methinks one would not 
 _altogether_ escape notice. 
   
 There is, however, still another aspect of clothes which remains to 
 be considered, _i.e._, their symbolism. It has been written, "Manners 
 maketh man." It might also be written with even a still greater degree 
 of truth, "_Clothes_ maketh man," since clothes contribute so much 
 to man's dignity. Carlyle finds it difficult to imagine a naked Duke 
 of Windlestraw addressing a naked House of Lords, and asks, very 
 pertinently, "Who ever saw any Lord my-lorded in tattered blanket 
 fastened with a wooden skewer?" His King Toom-tabard (empty gown) 
 reigning over Scotland long after the man John Baliol had gone! His 
 quaint conceit of a suit of cast clothes, meekly bearing its honours, 
 without haughty looks or scornful gesture, has been imitated by 
 Thackeray in his amusing illustration of "Ludovicus Rex"--the "silent 
 dignity" of "Rex" as represented by the suit of clothes, the forlorn 
 appearance of Ludovicus, the magnificence of "Ludovicus Rex," all 
 testify to the great importance and value of costume, as contrasted 
 with the relatively trivial character of the wearer. 
   
 Who, then, shall dare to belittle the importance of costume? or to 
 affirm that character can rise superior to its environment? Our subject 
 is one of the most significant which can be presented to the reader's 
 consideration. It provides one of the most curious and fascinating 
 studies in the world. 
   
 [Illustration: "LUDOVICUS REX." 
   
 _From "Paris Sketches."_] 
   
 The materials upon which we base our knowledge of the dress of the 
 earlier periods of the world's history are necessarily scanty. For 
 the Egyptian and Assyrian period we are dependent upon monumental 
 inscriptions and carving, and the few papyri which have survived the 
 ravages of time. For the Greek and Roman period, upon sculpture, 
 pottery, and the written description of the more considerable authors. 
 For the Byzantine, Frankish, and Gothic periods, upon mosaic, 
 monumental effigies, and illuminated MSS. It is not until what may be 
 called the age of the _painter_ that we may be said to emerge into the 
 broad light of day, and the pencils of Holbein, Rubens, and Vandyke 
 make things clearer for us. The sumptuary laws, however, enacted at 
 various periods, against excess in apparel and extravagance in dress, 
 let in a flood of light on the manners and customs of the times, and in 
 them will be found many curious and interesting details. The principal 
 Acts are the following: 2 Edw. II. c. 4; 37 Edw. III. cc. 8, 14; 3 Edw. 
 c. 1; 22 Edw. IV. c. 1; 1 Hen. VIII. c. 14; 6 Hen. VIII. c. 1; 7 
 
 Hen. VIII. c. 6; 24 Hen. VIII. c. 13; 1 and 2 Phil. and Mary, c. 2; 8 
 Eliz. c. 11. All these laws were repealed by an Act of 1 Jac. I. 
   
 This grandmotherly legislation, which was never effective, always 
 evaded and even defied, had a double object in view, first to induce 
 habits of thrift amongst all classes of the people, and secondly on 
 æsthetic grounds. 
   
 In the thirty-seventh year of the reign of Edward III. (A.D. 
 1363), the Commons exhibited a complaint in Parliament against the 
 general usage of expensive apparel not suited either to the degree or 
 income of the people; and an Act was passed by which the following 
 regulations were insisted upon: Furs of ermine and lettice, and 
 embellishments of pearls, excepting for a head-dress, were strictly 
 forbidden to any but the Royal Family, and nobles possessing upwards of 
 £1,000 per annum. 
   
 Cloths of gold and silver, and habits embroidered with jewellery, lined 
 with pure miniver, and other expensive furs, were permitted only to 
 knights and ladies, whose incomes exceeded 400 marks yearly. 
   
 Knights whose income exceeded 200 marks, or squires possessing £200 
 in lands or tenements, were permitted to wear cloth of silver with 
 ribands, girdles, &c., reasonably embellished with silver, and woollen 
 cloth, of the value of six marks the whole piece; but all persons under 
 the rank of knighthood, or of less property than the last mentioned, 
 were confined to the use of cloth not exceeding four marks the piece, 
 and were prohibited wearing silks and embroidered garments of any sort, 
 or embellishing their apparel with any ornaments of gold, silver, or 
 jewellery. Rings, buckles, ouches, girdles, and ribands were forbidden 
 them, and the penalty annexed to the infringement of this statute was 
 the forfeiture of the dress or ornament so made or worn. 
   
 In the reign of Henry IV. these laws were so little regarded that it 
 was found necessary to revive them with considerable additions. It was 
 enacted that--"No man not being a banneret, or person of high estate," 
 was permitted to wear cloth of gold, of crimson, or cloth of velvet, 
 or motley velvet, or large hanging sleeves open or closed, or gowns so 
 long as to touch the ground, or to use the furs of ermine, lettice, 
 or marten, excepting only "gens d'armes quant ils sont armez." 
 Decorations of gold and silver were forbidden to all who possessed less 
 than £200 in goods and chattels, or £20 per annum, unless they were 
 heirs to estates of 50 marks per annum, or to £500 worth of goods and 
 chattels. 
   
 Four years afterwards it was ordained that no man, let his condition 
 be what it might, should be permitted to wear a gown or garment cut or 
 slashed into pieces in the form of letters, rose leaves, and posies 
 of various kinds, or any such-like devices, under the penalty of 
 forfeiting the same, and the offending tailor was to be imprisoned 
 during the King's pleasure. 
   
 In the third year of the reign of Edward IV. an Act was promulgated 
 by which cloth of gold, cloth of silk of a purple colour, and fur 
 of sables were prohibited to all knights under the estate of lords. 
 Bachelor knights were forbidden to wear cloth of velvet upon velvet, 
 unless they were Knights of the Garter; and simple esquires, or 
 gentlemen, were restricted from the use of velvet, damask, or figured 
 satin, or any counterfeit resembling such stuffs, except they possessed 
 a yearly income to the value of £100, or were attached to the King's 
 Court or household. 
   
 It was also forbidden to any persons who were not in the enjoyment of 
 £40 yearly income to wear any of the richer furs; also girdles of gold, 
 silver, or silver-gilt were forbidden. 
   
 [Illustration: TRAVELLING IN A HORSE LITTER. 
   
 _From the MS. 118 Français in the Bibliothèque Nationale (late 
 Fourteenth Century)._] 
   
 No one under the estate of a lord was permitted to wear indecently 
 short jackets, gowns, &c., mentioned by Monstrelet, or pikes or 
 poleines to his shoes and boots exceeding two inches in length. No 
 yeoman, or person under the degree of a yeoman, was allowed bolsters or 
 stuffing of wool, cotton, or cadis in his purpoint or doublet under a 
 penalty of six shillings and eightpence fine, and forfeiture awarded; 
 the unfortunate tailor making such short or stuffed dresses, or 
 shoemaker manufacturing such long-toed shoes for unprivileged persons, 
 being under the pain of cursing by the clergy for the latter offence, 
 as well as the forfeit of twenty shillings--one noble to the King, 
 another to the cordwainers of London, and the third to the Chamber of 
 London. 
   
 It will readily be seen that these laws were necessarily the cause of 
 great hindrance to trade, which was, indeed, not the least of the evils 
 occasioned by these absurd laws. Richard Onslow, Recorder of London, 
 1565 (given in Ellis's "Original Letters," vol. ii.), describes an 
 interview which he had with the civic tailors, who were puzzled to know 
 whether they might "line a slop-hose not cut in panes, with a lining of 
 cotton stitched to the slop, over and besydes the linen lining straight 
 to the leg." 
   
 The statutory laws, however, were not the _only_ hindrance to trade, 
 since it would appear that during the Plantagenet period _dishonesty_ 
 in trade was as rife as it is at the present time, and foreign 
 competition as keen; the conditions, however, were slightly different, 
 the foreign merchants obtaining high prices for their goods, instead 
 of dumping cheap goods into the country at low prices. The remedy was 
 directed to the enforcement of greater honesty in trade dealings, 
 rather than to fortify themselves behind tariff walls. 
   
 It was enacted in the third year of the reign of Edward IV. c. 
 1:--"Firste, whereas many yeres paste & nowe at this daye, the 
 workemanshyp of clothes & things requisite to the same, is & hath bene 
 of such fraude disceite & falsite, that the sayde clothes in other 
 landes & countreis, is had in small reputacyon, to the greate shame of 
 this lande. And by reason thereof a great quantite of clothes of other 
 strange landes be brought into this realme, & here solde at an highe 
 & excessyve pryce, evydently shewynge thossens defaulte & falsyte of 
 the maykynge of wollen clothes of this lande. Our soveraigne lorde 
 the Kynge, for the remedy of the premisses, & to the preferment of 
 such labours & occupacions, which hath been used by the makynge of the 
 sayde clothes, by thaduyse assent & request & auctoritie aforsayd, 
 hath ordeyned & establysshed, that every hole wollen clothe called 
 brodclothe, which shal be made & set to sale after the feaste of 
 Saynt Peter called ad vincula, which shal be in the yere of our Lorde 
 M.CCCC.LXV. after the ful waterynge & rackyng straynyng or tenturyng of 
 the same redy to sale, shall holde & conteyne in length xxiiii yardes, 
 & to every yarde an ynche, conteynynge the bredthe of a mannes ynche, 
 to be measured by the creste of the same clothe. And i brede ii yardes, 
 or vii quarters at the leaste wythyn the lystes. & if the clothe be 
 longer in measure than xxiiii yardes & the ynches than the byer therof 
 shall paye to the seller for for as moche as doth excede such measure 
 of xxiiii yardes, after the rate of the measure above ordeyned. Also 
 it is ordeined & establisshed by auctoritie of the sayd lordes, that 
 all maner clothes called streytes, to be made & put to sale after 
 the same feaste, after the full watering & rackyng, streynynge or 
 tenturynge therof redye to sale, shall holde & conteyne in lengthe xii 
 yardes & the ynches, after the measure aforsaid, & in brede one yarde 
 within the lystes. Also it is ordeyned & establysshed by thauctoritie 
 aforsaid, that every clothe called kersey, to be made & put to sale 
 after the sayde feaste, after the full waterynge & rackynge straynynge 
 or tenturynge of the same redy to sale, shall holde & conteyne in 
 lengthe xviii yardes & the ynches, as is aforsayd, & in brede one yarde 
 & a nayle, or at the leaste one yarde within the lystes. & also it is 
 ordeyned & establysshed, that every halfe clothe of every of the sayde 
 hole clothes, streytes, & kerseys, shall kepe his measure in length 
 & brede after the rate fourme & nature of his hole clothe aforsayde. 
 & that no persone, whiche shall make or cause to be made any maner 
 wollen clothe to sel after the said feaste shall medle or put in or 
 upon the same cloth, nor the wolle, whereof the sayd clothe shall be 
 made, any lambes wolle, flockes or corke in any maner, upon payne to 
 forfayt xx_s._ for every clothe or halfe clothe, wherein & wherupon any 
 such lambes wolle, flockes or corke shall be put or medled. The one 
 halfe thereof to be to the Kyng, & the other halfe to hym that shall 
 leyse the same clothe, & duely prove the same to be made contrarie to 
 this ordinance, excepte that he shall chose to make of lambes wolle by 
 itselfe without mynglyng with any other wolle. Excepte also that corke 
 may be used in dyenge upon woded wolle, & also in dyenge of all suche 
 clothe, that is onely made of woded wolle, so that the same wolle & 
 clothe be perfytly boyled & madered, except also that corke may be put 
 upon clothe, whiche is perfectly boyled & madered"--but enough of this. 
 The sumptuary laws continued to be enacted against this, that, or the 
 other abuse, or fancied abuse. If a new fashion sprung up, a brand new 
 law would be immediately fashioned for the purpose of keeping it within 
 bounds. It was to no purpose, however; the sumptuary laws continued 
 to be disregarded as heretofore. "How often hath her majestie with 
 the grave advice of her honorable Councell, sette downe the limits of 
 apparell to every degree, & how soon again hath the pride of our harts 
 overflowen the chanell!"[4] 
   
 [Illustration: GUILJELMUS III. 
   
 G. ANGLIÆ, SCOTIÆ, FRANCIÆ et HIBERNIÆ REX. 
 
   
 WILLIAM III.] 
   
 It was the same with the satirists, whether of horned head-dresses 
 or other extravagances; Monk Lydgate might rave, might shout himself 
 hoarse, but the women would have their horns. 
   
 It was indeed inevitable that the vagaries of fashion and the love 
 of fine feathers should become the favourite butt of the satirists, 
 purists, and other persons who assumed the character of mentor. Among 
 the most insistent of these were the priesthood. St. Bernard thus 
 admonishes his sister, perhaps with greater candour than politeness, on 
 her visiting him, "well arraied with riche clothing, with perles and 
 precious stones":-- 
   
 "Suster, yet ye love youre bodi, by reson ye shuld beter love youre 
 soule: wene ye not that ye displese God and his aungels to see in you 
 suche pompe and pride to adorn suche a carion as is youre body.... Whi 
 thenke ye not that the pore peple that deyen for hungir and colde, that 
 for the sixte part of youre gay arraye xl persones might be clothed, 
 refresshed, and kepte from the colde?... And thanne the ladi wepte, 
 and solde awey her clothes, and levid after an holy lyff, and had love 
 of God, aungeles, and holy seintes, the whiche is beter thanne of the 
 worldely pepille" ("Knight of La Tour Landry," 1371). 
   
 The sister of St. Bernard, however, evidently lacked the power of 
 repartee of St. Edith, daughter of King Edgar, who, though brought 
 up in a convent at Wilton, and destined to the life of the cloister, 
 nevertheless had a weakness for clothes which seemed too fine and 
 gay for a nun. St. Ethelwold, who, it is clear, must have shared the 
 opinions of St. Bernard upon the subject of finery, and ventured to 
 upbraid her, received this crushing reply: "God's doom, that may not 
 fail, is pleased only with conscience. Therefore I trow that as clean 
 a soul may be under those clothes that are arrayed with gold as under 
 thy slight fur-skins." He was reminded also that St. Augustine had said 
 that pride could lurk even in rags. This latter sally calls to mind 
 the story of Diogenes spitting upon the floor of Plato's house and 
 exclaiming, "Thus I trample on the pride of Plato." "With _greater_ 
 pride, O Diogenes," was the quiet rejoinder. 
   
 Dowglas, the monk of Glastonbury, writing against the extravagances 
 which were rife during the latter half of the reign of Edward III., 
 says: "The English haunted so much unto the foly of strangers, that 
 every year they changed them in diverse shapes and disguisings of 
 clothing, now long, now large, now wide, now strait, and every day 
 clothingges, new and destitute, and devest from all honesty of old 
 arraye or good usage; and another time in short clothes, and so strait 
 waisted, with full sleeves and tapetes of surcoats and hodes, over long 
 and large, all so ragged and knib on every side, and all so shattered, 
 and also buttoned, that I with truth shall say, they seem more like to 
 tormentors or devils in their clothing, and also in their shoying and 
 other arraye than they seemed to be like men." 
   
 The authors of the "Roman de la Rose," William de Lorris, who died 
 in 1260, and John de Meun, who continued and finished the poem about 
 1304, are amongst the most severe of these satirists. In alluding to 
 the unnecessary length of their trains, the author advises the ladies, 
 if their legs be not handsome, nor their feet small and delicate, to 
 wear long robes trailing on the pavement to hide them; those having 
 pretty feet are counselled to elevate their robes, as if for air and 
 convenience, that all who are passing may see and admire. This has been 
 imitated by Ben Jonson, who in his "Silent Woman" makes Truewit say:-- 
   
 "I love a good dressing before any beauty o' the world. Oh, a woman is 
 then like a delicate garden; nor is there one kind of it; she may vary 
 every hour; take often counsel of her glass, and choose the best. If 
 she have good ears, show them; good hair, lay it out; good legs, wear 
 short clothes; a good hand, discover it often; practise any art to 
 mend breath, cleanse teeth, repair eyebrows, paint, and profess it." 
   
 [Illustration: MARIA 
   
 G. ANGLIÆ, SCOTIÆ, FRANCIÆ ET HIBERNIÆ REGINA. 
 
   
 QUEEN MARY.] 
   
 The author of the "Roxburghe Ballads" ("A Woman's Birth and Education") 
 informs us that when Cupid first beheld a woman-- 
   
    "He prankt it up in Fardingals and Muffs, 
    In Masks, Rebatos, Shapperowns, and Wyers, 
    In Paintings, Powd'rings, Perriwigs, and Cuffes, 
    In Dutch, Italian, Spanish, French attires; 
    Thus was it born, brought forth, and made Love's baby, 
    And this is that which now we call a Lady." 
   
 Nor was it the fair sex only who were thus lampooned. The men also came 
 in for their share, and were as much the objects of the satirist's 
 wrath as were the women:-- 
   
    "Your ruffs and your bands, 
    And your cuffs at your hands, 
    Your pipes and your smokes, 
    And your short curtall clokes, 
    Scarfes, feathers and swerdes, 
    And their bodkin beards; 
    Your wastes a span long, 
    Your knees with points hung 
    Like morrice-dance bels 
    And many toyes els." 
   
            SKELTON, _Elinor Rummin_, 1625. 
   
 The Knight of La Tour Landry, writing towards the close of the 
 fourteenth century, in order to deter his daughters from extravagance 
 and superfluity of dress, recounts a story of a knight who, having 
 lost his wife, applied to "an heremyte hys uncle" to know whether she 
 was saved or not and how it "stode with her." The hermit, after many 
 prayers, dreamed that he saw "Seint Michelle & the develle that had her 
 in a balaunce, & alle her good dedes in the same balaunce, & a develle 
 & alle her evelle dedes in that other balaunce. & the most that grevid 
 her was her good & gay clothing, & furres of gray menivere & letuse; & 
 the develle cried & sayde, Seint Michel, this woman had tenne diverse 
 gownes & as mani cotes; & thou wost welle lesse myghte have suffised 
 her after the lawe of God; ... & he toke all her juellys and rynges, 
 ... & also the false langage that she had saide ... & caste hem in the 
 balaunce with her evelle dedes." The "evelle dedes passed the good, & 
 weyed downe & overcame her good dedes. & there the develle toke her, & 
 bare her away, & putte her clothes & aray brennyng in the flawme on her 
 with the fire of helle, & kist her doune into the pitte of helle; ... & 
 the pore soul cried, & made moche sorughe & pite ... but it boted not." 
   
 Lydgate, the famous monk of Bury, and one of the foremost poets of his 
 time, was unwearying in his condemnation of the extravagances of dress, 
 his pet aversion being the horned head-dresses which obtained during 
 the York and Lancastrian period. In a "Ditty of Women's Horns," he 
 unbosoms himself as follows:-- 
   
    "Clerkys recorde, by gret auctoryté, 
    Hornes wer yove to bestys for dyffence; 
    A thing contrarye to femynté, 
    To be maad sturdy of resystence. 
    But arche wives, egre in ther vyolence, 
    Fers as tygres for to make affray 
    They have despit, and ageyn concyence 
    Lyst nat of pryde, then hornes cast away." 
   
 But the most insistent of all the satirists was Philip Stubbes, who 
 wrote his "Anatomy of Abuses" in the reign of Elizabeth. In lampooning 
 the feminine habit of aping masculine dress, he says: "The women have 
 doublets and jerkins as the men have, buttoned up to the breast, and 
 made with wings, welts, and pinions on the shoulder-points, as man's 
 apparel in all respects; and although this be a kind of attire proper 
 only to a man, yet they blush not to wear it." 
   
 Artists also, as well as writers, joined in the general chorus of 
 condemnation of the extravagances of fashion. Strutt gives a cut from 
 the MS. copy of Froissart in the Harleian Library, of a pig walking 
 upon stilts playing the harp, and crowned with the high steeple 
 head-dress which prevailed during the reign of Edward IV. 
   
 In the Cotton MS. (Nero, C4) there is an illustration of a winged 
 devil arrayed in a costume with elongated sleeves tied in knots, the 
 prevailing fashion of the period. 
   
 It must be confessed that the satirists were occasionally a little too 
 severe in their strictures, for while doubtless extravagance prevailed 
 at most periods--indeed, must always prevail--the dress of such a 
 period as that of the Plantagenets, as well as that of Elizabeth, 
 was sumptuous to a degree. In fact, it is difficult for us moderns, 
 so surrounded as we are by commonness, cheapness, and vulgarity, to 
 realise the extreme splendour of the Middle Ages, either as regards 
 their dress or their surroundings. Plenty of extravagance there is at 
 the present time, but no real magnificence, either as to invention or 
 material. 
   
 [Illustration] 
   
 With respect to material, by far the most sumptuous fabric employed for 
 purposes of adornment in past times is undoubtedly cloth of gold. This 
 truly regal fabric has been in use from the earliest periods. "And they 
 shall make the ephod of _gold_, of blue, and of purple, of scarlet, 
 and fine twined linen, with cunning work. And the curious girdle of 
 the ephod, which is upon it, shall be of the same, according to the 
 work thereof; even of gold, of blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine 
 twined linen."[5] 
   
 It is recorded of the wife of the Emperor Honorius, who died about the 
 year 400, upon the re-opening of her grave in 1544, the golden tissues 
 which formed the shroud were melted, and amounted in weight to 36 lbs. 
   
 About the body of the Frankish King Childeric, when his grave was 
 discovered in 1653, were found numerous strips of pure gold, pointing 
 to the fact that the body must have been wrapped in a mantle of golden 
 stuff for burial. 
   
 The sumptuary laws which were enacted at various periods of English 
 history, regulating and restricting the wearing of this precious fabric 
 to persons of estate, have already been referred to, and serve to show 
 in what high estimation this fabric was held. 
   
 It will readily be imagined that cloth of gold was necessarily costly. 
 The Princess Mary (afterwards Queen), thirteen years before she came 
 to the throne, "Payed to Peycocke, of London, for xix yerds iii qrt of 
 clothe of golde at xxxviij_s._ the yerde. xxxvij_li._ x_s._ vj_d._" and 
 for "a yerde & dr qrt of clothe of silver xl_s._" In later times the 
 use of the pure gold thread was discontinued except for very costly 
 garments, and tissues were made of silver-gilt or copper-gilt thread. 
 The thin paper which we now know by the name of tissue paper was 
 originally made for the purpose of being placed between the pieces of 
 stuff to prevent tarnishing when laid by. 
   
 Silk, like the sun, and so many other good things comes to us from 
 the "sacred East." The earliest mention of it is in Aristotle, who 
 refers to the importation into the Western world of raw silk. Silken 
 garments were brought to Rome from a very early period, but on account 
 of their costliness were worn only by a very few. Heliogabalus was the 
 first Emperor who wore silk for clothing. By the revised code of laws 
 issued for the Roman Empire in 533 A.D., a monopoly of silk 
 weaving was given to the Court, looms being set up in the imperial 
 palace and worked by women. The raw material, however, had still to 
 be brought from abroad. The story of the introduction of the silkworm 
 into Constantinople will serve to show how jealously the secret of the 
 rearing of the worm was kept by the peoples of the East. The eggs of 
 the silkworm were brought, hidden in their walking staves, by two Greek 
 monks, who had lived many years amongst the Chinese and learnt the 
 process of rearing the worm, and who carried them to Constantinople and 
 presented them to the Emperor. Very soon afterwards the Western world 
 reared its own silk. 
   
 Silk was known under different names at various periods, according 
 to its colour, texture, or design. Samite, Samit, Examitum, is a 
 six-threaded tissue, and consequently costly. The hand which grasped 
 the sword Excalibur when it was thrown into the lake was clothed in 
 white samite-- 
   
    "Launcelot and the Queen were cledde 
      In robes of a rich wede, 
    Of samyte white, with silver shredde." 
   
 Ciclatoun was a substance of light texture, and was used both for 
 ecclesiastical purposes and for the more stately dresses of a secular 
 character. Chaucer, in his "Rime of Sire Thopas," says:-- 
   
    "Of Brugges were his hosen broun 
    His robe was of ciclatoun." 
   
 Cendal was a less costly fabric, and was also used largely in 
 ecclesiastical vestments. 
   
 Taffeta was a thin transparent textile, and was used, as well as 
 cendal, during the Middle Ages for linings. 
   
 Sarcenet also is a light webbed silk, and by degrees supplanted cendal. 
   
 Satin was also used in the Middle Ages, and is mentioned by Chaucer in 
 his "Man of Lawe's Tale," but was not brought into general use until 
 later. The beauties of the Court of Charles II., as pictured by Sir 
 Peter Lely, are usually clad in satin. 
   
 Velvet, that most sumptuous material, has always been held in high 
 estimation on account of the richness of its texture and fold. It has 
 always been used, since its introduction into the West, for robes of 
 state and for the more sumptuous kind of dress. The place of its origin 
 is not known, but it probably comes from China. 
   
 [Illustration: DUCHESS OF ANCASTER (AFTER HUDSON).] 
   
 In a letter preserved in the Record Office (_circa_ 1505) to Edmund de 
 la Pole, Earl of Suffolk, from his steward Killingworth (De la Pole had 
 been indicted of homicide and murder, "for slaying of a mean person in 
 his rage and fury," and had fled to Flanders), conveying excuses from 
 some person un-named, mentioned only as "your friend," for not having 
 communicated with De la Pole earlier, as he had hoped, to send him news 
 from England, the writer continues:-- 
   
 "For your gown he axked me howe many elles velvet wold serve you. 
 I told hym xiiij Englishe yerdis, and then he saied, 'What lynyng 
 thereunto?' I answerde 'Sarcenet' by cause of the lest coste to helpe 
 it forward. And he saide to me, 'Wel, I shal see what I can doo 
 therin.' Soo, sir, if it please you to write to him in Duche, and thank 
 him, and geve but oon worde therin towching your gown, I doubte not ye 
 shal have hyt." 
   
 The patternings of woven brocades, damasks and other textiles afford 
 an interest quite apart from mere utility, or the purpose for which 
 they were intended to serve as an ornamental adjunct to dress, since 
 by their means we are able to trace the great ornamental traditions to 
 their original source in the East. 
   
 The history of the art of weaving in China is lost in obscurity, but we 
 may reasonably infer from our knowledge of the character of its people 
 that neither their methods nor the character of the ornamentation have 
 materially changed during a period of as much as two thousand years. 
 Dionysius Periegetes informs us that the Seres "make precious figured 
 garments resembling in colour the flowers of the field, and rivalling 
 in fineness the work of spiders." 
   
 It is certain that the Egyptians practised the art of weaving from very 
 early times, although the earliest ornamental fabrics found in Egypt 
 are of the sixth century A.D. In later times, however, their 
 woven fabrics were exceedingly sumptuous. Shakespeare's description of 
 the barge of Cleopatra will be familiar to all-- 
   
    "The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne 
    Burned on the water: 
    Purple the sails, and so perfumed that 
    The winds were love-sick with them; she did lie 
    In her pavilion--cloth of gold, of tissue," &c. 
   
 The Sicilian brocades of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries were 
 the finest in the world. The character of their ornamentation betrays 
 their Eastern origin, and we may trace in them the various influences 
 which were brought to bear upon them by their successive conquerors, 
 and which left a lasting mark upon their art. The earliest ornamental 
 influence was that of Byzantium, which followed upon the conquest 
 of the island by Belisarius in 535. The patternings are made up of 
 grotesque animals, birds, griffins, chimeras, &c., intertwined with 
 conventional foliage or ornament of a purely abstract character. After 
 the Saracen conquest, resultant upon the preaching of Muhammad, we find 
 Arabic inscriptions freely introduced as part of the general decorative 
 motive. Gold thread is lavishly used, and, together with an admixture 
 of colour, usually forms the pattern, upon a coloured ground, dark or 
 light, as the case may be. 
   
 [Illustration: DAMASK IN SILK AND GOLD (SARACENIC, ELEVENTH TO 
 THIRTEENTH CENTURY).] 
   
 The tradition spread to the mainland of Italy, and looms were set up 
 in Lucca, Florence, Venice, Genoa, and elsewhere; the character of 
 the ornamentation gradually changing, however, as the Renascence 
 influence began to make itself felt. Even the most cursory study of 
 Italian painting will serve to give an idea of the splendour of the 
 dresses of the Italian Gothic and Renascence periods. 
   
 [Illustration: VENETIAN FABRIC IN SILK AND GOLD (THIRTEENTH CENTURY).] 
   
 It was Louis XI. who introduced the art of silk weaving into France, 
 and looms were established at Tours in 1480. In 1520 looms were set up 
 in Lyons by Francis I. 
   
 In England also the art of weaving flourished, and was employed for 
 ecclesiastical vestments, hangings, furniture, and other purposes, as 
 well as for civil dress. In the wardrobe accounts of Edward II. occurs 
 the item: "To a mercer in London for a green hanging of wool with 
 figures of Kings and Earls upon it, for the King's service in this hall 
 on solemn feasts at London," &c. 
   
 For the "mantell of the Garter" of Henry VII. "a pound and a half of 
 gold of Venys" was employed "aboute the making of a lace and boton." 
   
 Instances of the splendour of the costume at the different periods of 
 the past might be multiplied indefinitely. 
   
 The monk of Malmesbury describes the banner under which Harold fought 
 at Hastings as having been "embroidered in gold with the figure of 
 a man in the act of fighting, studded with precious stones, woven 
 sumptuously." 
   
 Chaucer describes the King's daughter in the "Squire of Low Degree" as 
 having-- 
   
    "Mantell of ryche degre 
    Purple palle and armyne fre." 
   
 In the "Romaunt of the Rose" the dress of Mirth is described as 
 follows:-- 
   
    "Full yong he was, and merry of thought, 
    And in samette, with birdes wrought, 
    And with gold beten full fetously 
    His bodie was clad full richely." 
   
            .       .       .       .       . 
   
    "A coronell on hur hedd sett, 
    Hur clothys wyth bestes and byrdes wer bete, 
    All abowte for pryde." 
   
 And now contrast all this with the extreme poverty of the dress of 
 the present day, and turn our thoughts for a moment to those terrible 
 cylindrical enormities the pot-hat and trousers. 
   
 Dress? we don't dress--we simply cover our nakedness--as in 
 architecture we are content if we keep out wind and wet. We have 
 forgotten how to dress as we have forgotten how to build, and beauty 
 has forsaken dress as it has forsaken the rest of the decorative arts. 
 Dress is, or should be, one of the decorative arts; the adornment of 
 a "human," assuming that Nature's marvel must be covered, is, to say 
 the very least, as important as the adornment of a brick wall. What 
 is the explanation of the wave of Philistinism which swept not only 
 England but the rest of the world at the beginning of the nineteenth 
 century? Can it be the rise of science, which, bringing in its wake 
 the mechanical fiend, has reduced everything to rule and compass, and 
 thus brought about the death of the æsthetic sense? No other period of 
 the world's history but some country forged ahead and kept alight the 
 sacred lamp of beauty. 
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
 Trousers are apparently eternal; they date from the beginning, and will 
 endure, one fears, to the end of sublunary time. Of late there has 
 been a tendency, especially amongst middle-aged and elderly men, to 
 affect the knickerbocker, although whether the æsthetic principle is 
 the mainspring of this tendency, coupled with a natural and pardonable 
 desire to exhibit a well-developed calf, or whether, peradventure, the 
 "too old at twenty" cry is at the bottom of it, is a question which 
 provides food for reflection. 
   
 What, then, in view of this eternity of the trouser, can be done to 
 bring it abreast of modern taste and thought? because we _do_ move 
 in matters of taste, although almost imperceptibly. Speaking as a 
 designer, it seems only possible to develop the trouser in one of 
 two different directions--that of the peg-top or the bell-bottom. 
 Bell-bottoms may at once be ruled out of the running, since they have 
 become so identified with the coster fraternity that no man of fashion 
 would dream of adopting them. These, then, are the two extremes or 
 opposite poles. There is, however, as the late Mr. Gladstone would have 
 said, a third and middle course--_their columnar character might be 
 retained, and even emphasised_. The shafts might be fluted, as in the 
 Corinthian Order, or festooned, as in the "Prentice pillar." 
   
 [Illustration: LONDON PROMENADE DRESS, 1836.] 
   
 In all seriousness, however, the trouser is an absurdity even from 
 the point of view of mere comfort. A man cannot sit down without 
 first hitching himself up at the knee. The knee is the natural place 
 for the garment to be drawn in, as a certain degree of looseness is 
 necessary at that point in order to allow of the free movement of the 
 limb. Nature herself rebels against the trouser, and does her level 
 best to produce variety of fold, which makes for beauty. Philistine 
 man, however, decides otherwise, and that singular invention the 
 trouser-stretcher--true emblem of the modern spirit of incongruity--is 
 called into play, to undo during the night Nature's doings of the 
 previous day. 
   
 The late Lord Salisbury, in his speech at the Royal Academy Banquet on 
 April 30, 1887, is reported as saying: "Then consider the costume of 
 the period. Dresses seem to have been selected by the existing English 
 generation with a special desire to flout and gibe at and repudiate 
 all possibility of compliance with any sense of beauty. I am taxing my 
 memory, but I cannot remember any sculptor who has been bold enough to 
 give a life statue of any English notability in the evening dress of 
 the period. I am quite sure that if that man exists he must be strongly 
 tempted to commit suicide the moment his work appears." 
   
 The _Tailor and Cutter_--delightfully fascinating print!--has thrown 
 out many dark hints lately of impending startling changes in men's 
 attire. By the way, _who_ are the Rhadamanthine spirits who sit 
 mysteriously in judgment upon these high matters, issuing their fateful 
 decrees, regulating the delicate and subtle curves of the brim of a 
 pot-hat or the turn of a coat collar? Perhaps the _Tailor and Cutter_ 
 knows, but, upon the principle that knowledge is power, declines to 
 say; anyway, whatever changes the immediate future may have in store 
 for us, we may take comfort from the fact that they must necessarily 
 be in the direction of betterment, since, having recently emerged from 
 that bottomless pit of all that is æsthetically terrible--the Victorian 
 era: the era of the crinoline, the antimacassar, and of wax flowers 
 under glass--we could not possibly strike a lower depth. 
   
 
 
 
 FOOTNOTES Pg 3 
 [1] Gen. iii. 7, 21. 
   
 [2] This fable is so quaintly told in Lyly's "Euphues" (1580), that 
 it may be worth while to repeat it. "A gentleman walking abroard, the 
 Winde thought to blowe of(f) his cloake, which with great blastes and 
 blustering striving to vnloose it, made it to stick faster to his 
 backe, for the more the winde encreased the closer his cloake clapt to 
 his body, then the Sunne, shining with his hoat beames began to warme 
 this gentleman, who waxing som(e)what faint in this faire weather, 
 did not on(e)ly put of(f) his cloake but his coate, which the Wynde 
 perceiuing, yeelded the conquest to the Sunne." 
   
 [3] Carlyle, "Sartor Resartus." 
   
 [4] Stephen Gosson, "The School of Abuse." 
   
 [5] Exodus xxviii. 6-8. 
   
 
 
 
 II (THE TUNIC) 
 The earliest made-up garment, that in which the art of the tailor was 
 called into play, was doubtless a simple bag, more or less closely 
 fitting to the body and of varying length, with holes for the arms 
 and an opening for the neck. Such a primitive garment has been worn 
 in varying forms at all periods of the world's history, and is in use 
 at the present time in the form of the ordinary singlet. The modern 
 singlet is, in fact, the simple, primeval type of the tunic. 
   
 The coat of many colours which Israel made for his son Joseph was 
 unquestionably an embroidered tunic, although probably made loose and 
 ample. The little coat which the mother of Samuel made for her child 
 when he was dedicated to the priesthood, and brought to him from year 
 to year, was doubtless of the same character. 
   
 Sir Henry Layard, describing the dresses of the Assyrians, says "many 
 are represented naked, but the greater number are dressed in short 
 chequered tunics with a long fringe attached to the girdle." 
   
 [Illustration: TUNIC, PETTICOAT AND GIRDLE, BRONZE AGE. 
   
 _From "Industrial Arts of Old Denmark" (Worsaae)._] 
   
 Some remarkable discoveries have been made during the last thirty years 
 in different portions of Scandinavia, which serve to give us a very 
 clear idea of the dress of both men and women of the remote period of 
 the Bronze Age. The dresses were found in coffins made of an oak-tree 
 split in two and hollowed out, the bodies having been buried completely 
 dressed. An illustration is given of a simple woollen tunic with short 
 sleeves and a petticoat with girdle. This was found at Borum, in the 
 neighbourhood of Aarhus, Jutland. 
   
 [Illustration: HUNEFER AND HIS WIFE IN ATTITUDE OF ADORATION. 
   
 _From the Papyrus of Hunefer, or "Book of the Dead," c. B.C. 
 1370._] 
   
 The tunic was worn by the Egyptians. It is seen in their sculptures, 
 paintings, and papyri, and may be said to have formed their principal 
 garment, after the mere loin cloth. The illustrations given are taken 
 from the papyrus of Hunefer, or "Book of the Dead," in the British 
 Museum. The first cut discovers Hunefer, "overseer of the palace of 
 the lord of two lands, Men-maât-R[=a] (Seti I., King of Egypt about 
 B.C. 1370), and overseer of the cattle of the lord of the two 
 lands, the royal scribe," and his wife Nasha, a lady of the college of 
 the god Amen-R[=a] at Thebes, in the attitude of adoration. 
   
 Hunefer wears a long tunic with sleeves, ornamented at the throat 
 and neck, with a broad sash around the waist. His wife also wears a 
 long tunic with sleeves, probably tied in with a band underneath the 
 breasts; it is not clear in the drawing. The material is of a light 
 tissue, semi-transparent. 
   
 The second illustration shows a priest wearing nothing but a loin cloth 
 and a leopard skin. 
   
 In the Victoria and Albert Museum is a child's tunic, discovered in a 
 tomb at Alkmîm (Panopolis), Upper Egypt. It is of unbleached linen, 
 dyed blue, with a pattern produced by means of what is called "a 
 reserve," the design being first stamped on the fabric by means of a 
 waxy substance which protected those portions of the dress from the dye 
 into which it was afterwards dipped. The "reserve" was then removed by 
 a second bath, leaving the pattern in the original colour of the fabric. 
   
 [Illustration: _From the Papyrus of Hunefer, or "Book of the Dead," c. 
 B.C. 1370._] 
   
 With the Greeks the tunic was the principal article of attire. It was 
 worn next to the skin, and was of a light tissue. In the earlier time 
 it was composed of wool, in later periods of flax, and in the latest 
 periods it was either of flax mixed with silk or of pure silk. The 
 illustration given will serve to show its construction. It was a simple 
 square bag, open at the two ends, made sufficiently wide to admit of 
 the folds being ample, and sufficiently long to allow of its being 
 gathered up about the waist and breasts. It was kept in its place by 
 various means, either by a simple girdle round the waist or by cords 
 drawn crosswise between the breasts, over the shoulders, looped at the 
 back, and again drawn round the waist, or by an arrangement of cords or 
 ribbons drawn over each shoulder and attached to the girdle. 
   
 Over the tunic was a second garment, intended to afford additional 
 protection to the upper part of the body. This was a kind of bib or 
 super-tunic, and was composed of a square or rather oblong piece of 
 stuff, suspended round the chest and back and secured at the shoulders 
 by means of fibulæ or buttons. In some cases the bib was made deeper 
 under the arms, so as to allow the garment to fall in regular zigzag 
 folds, ending in a point, which was weighted with little pellets of 
 lead in order to ensure a better falling of the folds. 
   
 [Illustration: THE TUNIC.] 
   
 The tunic, as well as the super-tunic, was often ornamented with rich 
 borders and diapered with sprigs, spots, stars, &c. The tunic of the 
 Roman women reached to the feet, with the exception of that worn by 
 the Lacedemonian girls, which was short, and also divided at the sides 
 so as to show their thighs; and "this indecency," says Strutt, was 
 countenanced by the laws of Lycurgus. 
   
 [Illustration: THE TUNIC. 
   
 _From Hope's "Costume of the Ancients."_] 
   
 Horace, in his twenty-fifth Ode, addressing an old woman affecting 
 youth--"flaunting wife of the indigent Ibycus"--exclaims-- 
   
    "What becomes thee best is a warm woollen dress; 
    Get thee fleeces from famous Luceria." 
   
 Broadly speaking, classic dress consisted of but two elements--the 
 tunic and mantle, both being worn of a thicker material during cold 
 weather. Ulysses exclaims, in the "Odyssey"-- 
   
    "I have no cloak; the fates have cheated me, 
    And left alone my tunic." 
   
 Dion Cassius has given us an account of the dress of Boadicea, Queen of 
 the Iceni. He says she wore a tunic woven chequerwise in purple, red 
 and blue, and over it a shorter garment open on the bosom. Her yellow 
 hair floated in the wind, and upon her shoulders was a mantle fastened 
 by a fibula. It was, in fact, a variation of the Roman dress of tunic 
 and mantle or toga. This was the dress which was common to all nations, 
 both Gaul, Goth, Visigoth, and Vandal, from the Roman period to the 
 time of Charlemagne, varied, however, according to climatic conditions, 
 and ornamented in the manner peculiar to the particular country. 
   
 Mr. Planché ("Cyclopædia of Costume") says: "That in this chequered 
 cloth we see the original _breacan feile_, the garb of old Gaul, still 
 the national dress of the Scotch Highlanders, there can be no doubt; 
 and that it was at this time the common habit of every Keltic tribe, 
 though now abandoned by all their descendants except the hardy and 
 unsophisticated Gaelic mountaineers, is admitted, I believe, by every 
 antiquary who has made public his opinion on the subject." 
   
 Eginhart, a writer of the ninth century, has left us a detailed 
 description of the dress of Charlemagne. It consisted of the following 
 parts: The shirt, the drawers, the tunic, the stockings, the leg 
 bandages, the shoes, the sword-belt, and sword. In the winter he added 
 the mantle and the _thorax_, which was, as its name implies, a covering 
 for the chest and throat. It was made of otter's skin, and was probably 
 worn underneath the tunic, as no pictured or other representation of 
 this garment is available. 
   
 His tunic was ornamented with a _border of silk_. The material of the 
 tunic itself is not mentioned, but Strutt thinks that, according to the 
 custom of the time, it was made of linen. It was the _short_ tunic, 
 as the historian positively asserts that he wore the longer tunic but 
 twice in his life.[6] 
   
 Another French writer quoted by Strutt mentions stockings and 
 _trowsers_, the latter of linen, but ornamented with precious 
 workmanship, _i.e._, embroidery as forming part of the dress of the 
 Franks. 
   
 [Illustration: GREEK FIGURE. 
   
 _From Hope's "Costume of the Ancients."_] 
   
 Fortunately, we are able to form a very complete idea of Frankish dress 
 from the sculptured effigies of Clovis and his Queen Clothilde on the 
 façade of the Cathedral of Chartres, and other records which have 
 come down to us. The pencil, or the sculptor's chisel, must necessarily 
 be more eloquent and convincing than any written description can 
 possibly be. The general appearance of the Queen may, however, be 
 described as follows: She wears a long loose tunic of soft material, 
 reaching to the ground, confined by a falling girdle with an oval clasp 
 in front, in which emeralds, amethysts and rubies vie with each other 
 in their brilliance. The sleeves are long and ample, the edges serrated 
 in the form of leaves. The long flowing embroidered mantle is fastened 
 by a gold fibula at the throat. Her flaxen hair falls in two long 
 double plaits in front of her person, reaching almost to the ground; 
 the plaits being first bound singly by a dark ribbon, and each pair 
 bound together by a lighter ribbon. A thin gauze veil covers the head, 
 which is surmounted by a crown of exquisite workmanship. 
   
 [Illustration: GREEK FIGURE. 
   
 _From Hope's "Costume of the Ancients."_] 
   
 The dress of the Byzantine women, at the time of the dismemberment of 
 the Roman Empire in 395, was still the loose or semi-loose tunic, with 
 sleeves added, elaborately ornamented in the rich diapered patterns 
 peculiar to that period and nation, and confined at the waist by a 
 girdle. This costume, with variations, obtained until the Norman 
 Conquest, when costume began to be more complex. The long loose gown 
 is variously described in documents of the period by the names of the 
 tunic, the _gunna_ or gown, and the kirtle. There was a short tunic, 
 with sleeves reaching only to the elbows, and there was a long tunic, 
 with tight sleeves, worn underneath. The kirtle, such as we are 
 familiarised with in the dress of a later period, had not come into 
 being. As a matter of fact, the term "kirtle" is indiscriminately used 
 in the description of various garments. Tyrwhitt describes it as "a 
 tunic or waistcoat." 
   
 In the "Romaunt of the Rose" the "damoselles right young" are arrayed-- 
   
    "In kirtles and noon other wede," 
   
 evidently here intended for a long gown or tunic. 
   
 The dress of the twenty young squires chosen by Guy of Warwick is thus 
 described:-- 
   
    "Kyrtyls they had oon of sylke 
    Also whyte, as any mylke. 
    Of gode sylke and of purpull palle 
    Mantels above they caste all. 
    Hosys they had uppon, but no schone; 
    Barefote they were everychone." 
   
 Both Strutt and some other writers on the subject of costume appear to 
 be puzzled by the _colouring_ of the earlier illuminators, principally, 
 however, with respect to the colour of the hair and beard, but 
 also in regard to the various details of costume. They remark the 
 curious circumstance of the hair and beard being painted _blue_. "In 
 representations of old men this might be considered only to indicate 
 _grey hair_; but even the flowing locks of Eve are painted blue in 
 one MS., and the heads of youth and age exhibit the same cerulean 
 tint." Strutt argues from this that some art of tinting or dyeing was 
 practised. A writer who quotes Strutt says: "The hair being painted 
 sometimes _green_ and _orange_ is in favour of this argument, but 
 such instances are very rare, and may have arisen from the idleness 
 of the illuminator, who daubed it, perhaps, with the nearest colour 
 at hand." This, however, was not in the least so. The explanation 
 is, as any _educated_ artist knows (artists are not _all_ educated), 
 that with the old illuminator _the decoration of the page_ was his 
 first consideration--rightly so; and the colour of the hair and beard, 
 together with the precise tint of the gown, would incline to either 
 blue, red, or yellow, accordingly as the exigencies of the general 
 colour scheme demanded. This fact should always be kept in mind in 
 considering the colour of any illuminated MS. 
   
 This colouring is amusingly parodied by Mr. Punch in his book of 
 British costumes (1860). He gives a fragment of a love song, "commonly 
 believed to have been written by King Vortigern, who was inveigled into 
 marriage with the daughter of old Hengist":-- 
   
    "Rowena is my ladye-love, 
      Her robe itte is a gunna; 
    Shee wears blewe haire her ears above, 
      O is shee notte a stunna!" 
   
 He adds: "Critics disagree as to the meaning of the word 'stunna,' but 
 we incline, ourselves, to think it was a bit of Saxon slang, and from 
 the context we imagine it was used by way of compliment." 
   
 [Illustration: "TREUTHE'S PILGRYME ATTE PLOW." 
   
 _From the MS. R. 3, 14 in the Library of Trinity College, Cambridge._] 
   
 A development of the super-tunic was the surcoat, which was worn by 
 either sex during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. It assumed 
 a variety of forms, and was either a long loose outer garment, 
 variously shaped and sleeveless, or, as during the reign of Richard 
 II., was a shorter, closely-fitting jacket or coat with sleeves, and 
 usually trimmed with miniver or other fur. 
   
 The surcoat, or super-tunic, during the Anglo-Saxon period, was worn by 
 the nobility only, and was therefore made of the most costly material, 
 of silk or of finest linen, and often richly embroidered. As a matter 
 of fact, embroidery always forms a conspicuous element in Anglo-Saxon 
 dress, the Anglo-Saxon women being famous for their skill with the 
 needle. We learn from Eginhart that the four Princesses, daughters of 
 Edward the Elder, and sisters to Æthelstan, were celebrated for their 
 skill in spinning, weaving, and embroidering, and Editha, the wife of 
 Edward the Confessor, was a perfect mistress of the needle. 
   
 [Illustration: ANGLO-SAXON DRESS (EIGHTH CENTURY).] 
   
 A somewhat remarkable feature of Anglo-Saxon dress of the eighth 
 century was the long super-tunic with long sleeves, worn in travelling 
 or during cold weather. The sleeves not only cover the hands, but 
 reach considerably below the tips of the fingers. The sleeves worn by 
 the Chinese mandarins at the present time are identical with the long 
 sleeves of the Anglo-Saxon period. 
   
 The tunic, so far as women's dress is concerned, may be said to have 
 finally disappeared by the time of the Tudors, when a woman's dress 
 consisted of kirtle or petticoat, and bodice or stomacher. Indeed, the 
 tunic proper may be said to have disappeared with the general change 
 which came about in costume immediately after the Norman Conquest, 
 the Saxon word "gunna" and the Norman "surcoat" better describing the 
 dresses of that period. 
   
 The term "tunic" is also applied to the military surcoat of the present 
 time, this article of military costume, however, bearing no sort of 
 affinity to the original tunic. 
   
 An important adjunct of the tunic was the girdle, by which the garment 
 was looped up and confined within reasonable limits. In the case of the 
 men, as Strutt observes, it served a double purpose, that of confining 
 the tunic, and supporting the sword. 
   
 Girdles were of various kinds--a sash of silk or other materials; or 
 formed of leather, either a simple thong or ornamented in various ways; 
 or of different cloths, richly embroidered and studded with jewels; or 
 of metal. The girdle of Charlemagne was composed of gold and silver. 
   
    "A girdel ful riche for the nanes 
    Of perry and of precious stanes." 
   
            _Ywaine and Gawin._ 
   
 The Imperial girdle of the Holy Roman Empire was woven in silk and 
 gold, having a woven inscription upon the narrow border, and clasped by 
 means of a heavy gilt buckle. 
   
 It is recorded that upon the return of Henry VI. to England after his 
 coronation in France in 1432 the Lord Mayor of London rode to meet him 
 at Eltham, "being arrayed in crimson velvet, a great velvet hat furred, 
 a girdle of gold about his middle, and a baldrick of gold about his 
 neck trailing down behind him." 
   
 Numerous fine examples of the girdle occur among the early brasses. It 
 was used also by both sexes for the purpose of suspending or sustaining 
 the pouch or purse which was invariably worn during the Middle Ages, as 
 it was the only form of pocket-- 
   
    "And by his gurdil hyng a purs of lethir, 
    Tassid with silk, and perled with latoun." 
   
            _Miller's Tale._ 
   
 The name "cut-purse" applied to thieves is derived from the 
 circumstance of the leather thongs which attached the pouch to the 
 girdle being slit with a knife. 
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
 Some few years ago a movement, having its origin, singularly enough, 
 in the United States, above all places, was instituted for the purpose 
 of inducing the modern Greeks to adopt the ancient costume of their 
 forefathers, several prominent Americans masquerading in the streets 
 of Athens in tunic and peplum. The only result of the movement was to 
 create a diversion amongst the inhabitants, who probably regarded their 
 would-be instructors as harmless lunatics. The result was, indeed, 
 inevitable; such sentimental movements are predestined to failure. 
 A national costume is of slow growth; it is the natural outcome of 
 the general habits, mode of thought, and temper of a people. It is as 
 impossible to bring about a sudden change in dress as it is to create a 
 new style of architecture. 
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
 At the annual congress of Prussian female elementary school teachers 
 held recently at Altona, some interesting papers were read which are 
 germane to this subject of costume, and which serve to show that some 
 of the continental peoples are more alive to the importance of this 
 subject than we are. We give a short _résumé_ which appeared in the 
 pages of the _Daily Chronicle_ a short while ago. The italics are ours. 
   
 "School-Inspector Muller urged the necessity of reform of children's 
 clothes, stating _that the human body is a most magnificent work of art 
 which is frequently maltreated with corsets and other tightly fitting 
 garments_. 
   
 "Fraulein Lischnevska, of Spandau, said a return must be made to the 
 pure art of the ancient Greeks. During gymnastic exercises children 
 must be naked, and only immoral persons would regard this as immoral. 
 This remark was greeted with a storm of applause. 
   
 "Fraulein Bertha Jordan, of Mulhausen, _deplored the fact of people 
 becoming so greatly estranged from art, a circumstance which she 
 ascribed to the degradation of work and the severance from nature, both 
 resulting from industrialism_. The remedy, she considers, lies with 
 schools and school education, and she argued that much can be done by 
 a careful selection of pictures on the class-room walls, by awakening 
 faculties of observation in children and arousing their interest in 
 nature which surrounds them." 
   
 
 
 
 FOOTNOTES Pg 4 
 [6] With the object of making more complete a work on ancient textile 
 fabrics which the Prussian Government is issuing, the sarcophagus at 
 Aix-la-Chapelle Cathedral in which the remains of Charlemagne rest has 
 been opened, and certain pieces of valuable silk have been extracted in 
 order that they may be examined and photographed. The great Frankish 
 Emperor's bones were wrapped in these costly cloths. One of them is 
 ancient Constantinople work, the production of the celebrated Imperial 
 Byzantine workshops, and represents a brilliantly coloured surface with 
 elephants embroidered in circles. The other piece is believed to be of 
 Sicilian origin, with a design of birds and hares. 
   
 Charlemagne's bones are still intact, with the exception of the 
 skull and one arm, which are in another part of the Cathedral. 
 Medical men who have examined these bones say that the Emperor was 
 a man of huge proportions. The Kaiser is greatly interested in the 
 preparation of this work on ancient tissues, and it was his Majesty 
 who induced the Archbishop of Cologne to consent to the opening of the 
 sarcophagus.--_Daily Paper._ 
   
 
 
 
 III (THE MANTLE) 
 Of the famous mantles recorded in history, one of the first which will 
 occur to the mind is that of Elijah, in which he hid his face when he 
 stood in the cave at Horeb, and heard the still, small voice, which 
 came after the fire, which came after the earthquake, which came after 
 the great strong wind which rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the 
 rocks before the Lord. And afterwards, when he "found Elisha the son 
 of Shaphat who was plowing with twelve yoke of oxen before him, and he 
 with the twelfth, Elijah passed by him and _cast his mantle upon him_." 
   
 And again, on the shores of Jordan, "Elijah took his mantle, and 
 wrapped it together, and smote the waters, and they were divided hither 
 and thither, so that they two went over on dry ground." 
   
        .       .       .       .       . 
   
 "And it came to pass as they still went on, and talked, that, behold, 
 there appeared a chariot of fire, and horses of fire, and parted them 
 both asunder; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven." 
   
 "And Elisha saw it, and he cried, My father, my father, the chariot of 
 Israel, and the horsemen thereof. And he saw him no more; and he took 
 hold of his own clothes, and rent them in two pieces." 
   
 "He took up also the mantle of Elijah that fell from him, and went 
 back, and stood by the bank of Jordan." 
   
        .       .       .       .       . 
   
 "And when the sons of the prophets which were to view at Jericho saw 
 him, they said, The spirit of Elijah doth rest on Elisha. And they came 
 to meet him, and bowed themselves to the ground before him." 
   
 St. Martin, Bishop of Tours, soldier of God, dividing his mantle with 
 the beggar at the gates of Amiens, is one of many similar stories in 
 the earlier history of the Christian Church. It is a variation of the 
 story of St. Christopher, and is intended as a lesson in charity. The 
 legend recounts that Christ appeared to him the following night covered 
 with the half of his mantle. 
   
 What schoolboy but does not remember the story of Raleigh's mantle, 
 which he cast into the mire in order that Queen Elizabeth's feet might 
 not be soiled? "The night had been rainy, and just where the young 
 gentleman stood, a small quantity of mud interrupted the Queen's 
 passage. As she hesitated to pass on, the gallant, throwing his cloak 
 from his shoulders, laid it on the miry spot, so as to ensure her 
 stepping over it dryshod. Elizabeth looked at the young man, who 
 accompanied this act of devoted courtesy with a profound reverence, and 
 a blush that overspread his whole countenance. The Queen was confused, 
 and blushed in her turn, nodded her head, hastily passed on, and 
 embarked in her barge without saying a word."[7] 
   
 The mantle is the cloak or outermost covering to the body, and was 
 originally worn either when the weather was unpropitious, or, as 
 occasion demanded. 
   
 The peplum of the Greeks was, in fact, a mantle, worn by both sexes, 
 and was occasionally very long, passing twice round the body, first 
 underneath the arms and then over the shoulder. In rainy or cold 
 weather it was pulled over the head, and also in times of mourning. 
   
 The peplum had no clasps or fastenings of any sort, but was kept in its 
 place by its own involutions, of which the combinations were almost 
 endless. 
   
 It will readily be understood that the natural foldings of drapery, 
 possessing in themselves so much variety and interest, when thrown 
 over a form so beautifully proportioned as is the human figure, gave 
 the utmost grace of line and form, and this fact makes it all the more 
 surprising that the natural foldings of drapery are not taken greater 
 advantage of in modern dress. The peplum was often diapered with 
 sprigs, spots, stars, or other patternings, and was occasionally richly 
 bordered. 
   
 The Greeks also occasionally wore a shorter and simpler cloak, called 
 chlamys, in lieu of the more ample peplum; such a short mantle is the 
 one which we see upon the shoulders of the Apollo Belvidere. 
   
 [Illustration: PLAN OF THE TOGA.] 
   
 The Roman toga corresponded to the Greek peplum, but differed from 
 it in shape, and was more ample, for while the peplum was square, or 
 rather oblong, the toga assumed the form of two semicircles--a larger 
 and a smaller one, or, more correctly speaking, a semicircle and the 
 smaller segment of a circle, which was doubled over the semicircle 
 before adjustment. One end of the toga was then placed upon the left 
 shoulder in such a position that the end or point just touched the 
 ground, the rest of the garment drawn round the back of the figure, 
 underneath the right arm, and flung again over the left shoulder; a 
 sort of loop or bag was then drawn out at the waist in front and 
 served as a pocket. The toga measured 18 feet from tip to tip, or three 
 times the height of a man. It was worn always over the tunic--at any 
 rate during the later Roman time. Horace, in his fourth Epode, thus 
 satirises an upstart:-- 
   
    "Mark, as along the Sacred Way thou flauntest, 
    Puffing thy toga, twice three cubits wide." 
   
 [Illustration: THE TOGA. 
   
 _From Hope's "Costume of the Ancients."_] 
   
 The material of the toga was wool, in the earlier time and for the 
 common people; afterwards silk and other materials were used, coloured 
 or bordered according to the rank or station of the wearer. 
   
 The mantle--that is, the simple square or oblong cloak which was 
 derived from the Greek peplum--was worn in different ways from the 
 Roman period onwards, either thrown loosely over the shoulders as was 
 the peplum, or fastened at the shoulder or breast by means of fibulæ, 
 rings, or cords. In a bas-relief found at Autun and engraved in 
 Montfaucon, an archdruid is represented with a long mantle reaching to 
 the ground, the ends drawn through a ring upon the left shoulder. 
   
 The large coronation mantle of the Holy Roman Empire, preserved in 
 the Imperial Treasury at Vienna, is semicircular in shape, of red 
 silk, richly embroidered in gold thread, the outlines emphasised by 
 rows of seed pearls. The design, which is divided in the middle by a 
 representation of a palm tree, figures on either side a lion springing 
 upon a camel, and is treated with that noble convention characteristic 
 of early Sicilian design. On the border of the curved edge is worked an 
 Arabic inscription (common in earlier Sicilian fabrics), stating that 
 the robe was worked in the Royal factory at Palermo in 1134. 
   
 One of the gifts which the five maidens present to Beryn from Duke 
 Isope is a purple mantle-- 
   
    "The thirde had a mantell of lusty fressh coloure 
    The uttir part of purpell i-furred with peloure." 
   
            _The Tale of Beryn._ 
   
 The mantle was a distinguishing feature of the costume of the Franks, 
 which was a variation of Roman or classic dress, _i.e._, the loose 
 tunic and mantle, with the addition of hose or leg covering with cross 
 gartering; both tunic and mantle were often elaborately bordered in a 
 style of ornament which strongly betrayed, in fact, was a development 
 of, Byzantine influences. 
   
 King John of Gascogny having been counselled by his barons to yield 
 up to Charlemagne the four sons of Aymon, after much sorrow, summons 
 his secretary--"Come forth, syre Peter, and write a letter from me to 
 the Kinge Charlemagne, as I shall telle you: It is that I sende hym 
 salutacyon wyth goode love, and yf he wyll leve me my londe in peas, I 
 promyse hym that afore ten dayes ben paste, I shall delyver unto hym 
 the foure sones of Aymon, and he shall fynde theym in the playne of 
 Valcolours clothed with scarlette furred wyth ermynes, and ridynge upon 
 mewles, berynge in theyr handes flowres and roses for a token, bycause 
 that men shall better knowe them." 
   
 Charlemagne calls then his chamberlain--"Make a lettre to Kyng Yon of 
 Gascoyne in my behalve. Wryte that I sende hym salutacyon and goode 
 love, and that yf he dooth for me as he sayth, I shall encrease his 
 royame wyth fourtene goode castelles, and therof I gyve hym for surete 
 our lorde and saynte Denys of Fraunce, and that I sende hym four 
 mauntelles of scarlette furred wyth ermynes, for to clothe wythall the 
 traytoures, when they shall goo to the playne of Valcoloures, and there 
 they shall be hanged, yf God wyll."[8] 
   
 The Venetian mantle which Charlemagne wore was, according to an early 
 French writer quoted by Strutt, of a grey or blue colour. It was 
 quadrangular in its form, and so doubled that when placed upon the 
 shoulders it hung down as low as the feet before and behind, but on the 
 sides it scarcely reached to the knees. 
   
 In the Anglo-Saxon dress of the earlier period, the mantle is a simple 
 square with a border on the outer side, the two upper corners being 
 gathered together at the shoulders and fastened with brooches connected 
 by a chain. It is an instance of a very decorative effect being 
 produced by simple means. 
   
 The coronation mantle of Edward the Confessor was richly embroidered by 
 his Queen, Editha. 
   
 William of Malmesbury mentions a mantle presented to Henry I. by Robert 
 Bloet, Bishop of Lincoln, which was lined with black sables with white 
 spots, and cost £100, a large sum in those days. 
   
 The mantle, during the Norman period, underwent little change. It was 
 fastened, either upon one of the shoulders, generally the right, or in 
 front, by means of fibulæ or pins of an ornamental character. In the 
 earliest sculptured effigies of English Sovereigns which we possess, 
 those of Henry I. and his Queen Matilda at the west door of Rochester 
 Cathedral, the King is represented in a long dalmatic, with a loose 
 mantle thrown over his left arm. The Queen has a more formal mantle, 
 resting upon either shoulder, the system of fastening of which is 
 hidden by the two long plaits of hair which fall down on either side, 
 but which was probably some kind of ornamental strap. The ordinary 
 mantles of this period were often provided with a "capa" or cowl, which 
 was drawn over the head and frequently used in lieu of a hat. 
   
 [Illustration: STATUE OF QUEEN MATILDA AT ROCHESTER.] 
   
 In the effigies of the Plantagenet Kings, the mantles are generally of 
 the long flowing character above described, varied by rich borderings 
 or embroiderings. Henry II., however, introduced a shorter mantle 
 (cloak of Anjou), from which circumstance he obtained the sobriquet of 
 "Curt manteau." The effigy of Eleanor of Castile, his Queen, in the 
 Abbey of Fontevraud in Normandy, shows a mantle embroidered with a 
 "powdering" of gold crescents. That of Coeur de Lion, in the same 
 Abbey, has a square-bordered mantle fastened at the breast by a fibula 
 at the upper corners. The two lower corners are plainly shown in the 
 statue folded over each other. 
   
 During the reign of Henry III. costume generally increased in 
 splendour. The effigy of this monarch, however, exhibits a loose plain 
 mantle, fastened by a fibula on the right shoulder, the folds of the 
 mantle hanging in a series of regular festoons over the front of the 
 figure. 
   
 In the Harleian MSS. is a satirical Latin "Song upon the Tailors" of 
 this reign (Henry III.), an English version of which is included in Mr. 
 Wright's "Political Songs," published by the Camden Society. Addressing 
 the tailors, it commences:-- 
   
 "I have said ye are gods; why should I omit the service which should 
 be said on festival days? Gods certainly ye are, who can transform an 
 old garment into the shape of a new one. The cloth, while fresh and 
 new, is made either a cape or mantle; but, in order of time, first it 
 is a cape, after a little space this is transformed into the other: 
 Thus ye change bodies. When it becomes old, the collar is cut off; 
 when deprived of the collar it is made a mantle: Thus in the manner 
 of Proteus are garments changed. When at length winter returns, many 
 engraft immediately upon the cape a capuce; then it is squared; after 
 being squared it is rounded, and so it becomes an amice. If there 
 remain any morsels of the cloth or skin which is cut, they do not want 
 a use: of these are made gloves. This is the general manner, they all 
 make one robe out of another, English, Germans, French, and Normans, 
 with scarcely an exception. Thus _cape_ is declined, but _mantel_ 
 otherwise: in the first year while it is fresh, the skin and the cloth 
 being both new, it is laid up in a box; when, however, the fur begins 
 to be worn off, and the thread of the seams broken, the fur is clipped 
 and placed on a new mantle, until at last, in order that nothing may be 
 lost, it is given to the servant for his wages." 
   
 [Illustration: LORD BURLEIGH, 1520-1598. 
   
 _National Portrait Gallery._ 
   
 _Photo by Emery Walker._] 
   
 The vestments of the most noble Order of the Garter, founded, as every 
 student of history knows, in the reign of Edward III.,[9] consisted 
 originally of a mantle, a tunic, and capuchon, of blue woollen cloth, 
 cut to the fashion of the period, the knights differing only from the 
 monarchs in respect of the tunic being lined with miniver instead of 
 ermine. All three garments were closely diapered or powdered with 
 garters of gold, the mantle having one larger than the rest on the left 
 shoulder, enclosing a shield, Argent, with the cross of St. George, 
 Gules. 
   
 The vestments of this Order have been constantly altered during 
 different periods. In the seventh year of Richard II. the surcoat or 
 tunic was of "violet in grain," in the eleventh year white, and in the 
 twelfth and nineteenth of "long blue cloth." They were changed again to 
 white in the first year of Henry V., another change to scarlet in the 
 reign of Henry VI., and afterwards back again to white. 
   
 The number of embroidered garters on the coat and chaperon were in 
 this reign limited to 120 for a duke, 110 for a marquis, 90 for an 
 earl, decreasing in the same ratio to 60 in the case of a knight 
 bachelor. The King's was unlimited; on the surcoat and hood of Henry 
 there were 173. 
 
   
 The material of the mantle was changed to velvet during this reign, 
 lined with white damask or satin. 
   
 In the reign of Henry VII. an important addition was made to the 
 insignia of this Order, that of the _collar_. The whole habit sent to 
 the King of Castile in the twenty-seventh year of this reign consisted 
 of mantle, kirtle, hood and _collar_, and was of purple velvet lined 
 with silk or sarcenet, the embroidered garters entirely disappearing. 
   
 The Statutes of the Order were reformed by Henry VIII., who also 
 altered the dress to the fashion of the period. The flat velvet hat 
 or cap, so familiar in Holbein's portraits, superseded the chaperon 
 or hood, which was, however, still worn hung or depending upon the 
 shoulder, and called the _humerale_. Both hat and surcoat were of 
 crimson velvet. 
   
 The lesser _George_, or jewel of the Order, was introduced during this 
 reign, suspended upon the breast by either a gold chain or riband, 
 which latter was _black_. 
   
 In the reign of Elizabeth, the flat hat gives place to one with a 
 higher crown, being more in keeping with the fashion of the time, but 
 no other alteration of the habit was made. 
   
 During the reign of Charles II. ostrich or heron plumes appear in the 
 cap, and the broad blue riband was worn over the left shoulder and 
 under the right arm. 
   
 As at present worn, the mantle is of purple velvet lined with taffetas, 
 bearing on the left shoulder the badge of the Order, viz., a silver 
 escutcheon charged with the red cross of St. George and enriched with 
 the garter and motto. In chapters it is worn over the uniform or Court 
 dress. The surcoat, or short gown without sleeves, is made of crimson 
 velvet, lined, like the mantle, with white taffetas silk. The hood, 
 worn on the right shoulder of the mantle, is made of the same velvet as 
 the surcoat, and lined with the same material. 
   
 Matthew Paris, describing the solemnisation of the marriage of 
 Alexander III. of Scotland with the Princess Margaret, sister of Henry 
 III., says:-- 
   
 "There were great abundance of people of all ranks, multitudes of the 
 nobility of England, France, and Scotland, with crowds of Knights and 
 military Officers, the whole of them pompously adorned with garments 
 of silk, and so transformed with excess of Ornaments that it would 
 be impossible to describe their dresses without being tiresome to 
 the reader, though it would excite his astonishment. Upwards of one 
 thousand Knights on the part of the King of England attended the 
 nuptials in vestments of silk, curiously wrought in embroidery; and 
 these vestments on the morrow were laid aside; and the same Knights 
 appeared in new robes of still more magnificent decoration. The nobles 
 of Scotland and of France did not fall a whit below those of England 
 in their show and parade. The Barons and the Knights were habited in 
 robes of divers colours; sometimes they appeared in green, sometimes 
 in blue, then again in grey, and afterwards in scarlet, varying the 
 colours according to their fancies, or the wills of the ladies to whom 
 they had dedicated their amorous vows. Their breasts were adorned with 
 fibulæ, or brooches of gold; and their shoulders with precious stones 
 of great magnitude, such as emeralds, sapphires, jacinths, pearls, 
 rubies, and other rich ornaments. The ladies who attended had rings of 
 gold, set with topaz stones and diamonds, upon their fingers; their 
 heads were adorned with elegant crests or garlands; and their wimples 
 were composed of the richest stuffs, embroidered with pure gold, and 
 embellished with the rarest jewellery." 
   
 [Illustration: LODOWICK, DUKE OF RICHMOND AND LENNOX. 
   
 _Engraved by J. Barrà._] 
   
 In an inventory of the wardrobe and jewels of Henry V., taken in 1423 
 at his decease, mention is made of _heukes_ of scarlet cloth and 
 camlet, and _pilches_ of grey fur. The word _pilche_ is a corruption 
 of the Latin _pelliceus_, or the Saxon _pylce_, and represented a coat 
 of fur worn during cold weather. The modern word _pelisse_ used to 
 describe a child's coat is derived from the same source.[10] 
   
    "After grete hete comith colde, 
    No man cast his pilche away." 
   
            CHAUCER. 
   
 A farewell letter of Bishop Ridley (Foxe's "Book of Martyrs"), 
 describing the sufferings of Christ's true soldiers, says:-- 
   
 "They were stoned, hewn asunder, tempted, fell, and were slain upon the 
 edge of the sword; some wandered to and fro in sheep's pilches, in 
 goats' pilches, forsaken, oppressed, afflicted." 
   
 [Illustration: PORTION OF THE PICTURE OF THE MIRACLE OF ST. BERNARD. 
   
 _By Fiorenzo di Lorenzo, Pinacoteca, Perugia._] 
   
 In the inventory above referred to are mentioned, "gounes de noier 
 damask, furrez de sides de foynes et marterons." The cost of these furs 
 is also given--"iii pares de foyns, chascun cont' c. bestes, pris le 
 pec' x_d._ xii_li._ x_s._," the marteron being more costly. 
   
 The foyne appears to have been the same as the polecat or fitchet. 
   
 The pylce was in common use during the Anglo-Saxon period, and worn by 
 all classes. In Michel's "Chroniques Anglo-Normandes," _c._ 1185, is 
 described a meeting on a little bridge near Westminster between Tosti, 
 Earl of Huntingdon, and Siward, Earl of Northumberland. "The said Earl 
 approached so near to Siward on the bridge that he dirtied his pelisse 
 (_pelles_) with his miry feet; for it was then customary for noblemen 
 to use skins without cloth." This evidently referring to a long mantle 
 or cloak. 
   
 The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle mentions the great gifts and many treasures 
 of skins decked with purple, pelisses of marten skin, weasel skin, and 
 ermine skin, which King Malcolm of Scotland and his sister Margaret 
 gave to the Conqueror in 1074. 
   
 During the general change which came about in costume in the reign of 
 Richard II. a shorter mantle or cloak began to be worn, which continued 
 at intervals and under various forms until the universal adoption of 
 coats at the close of the reign of Charles II. 
   
 In the tempera painting of the miracle of St. Bernard by Fiorenzo 
 di Lorenzo in the Pinacoteca at Perugia, a young man is wearing a 
 short cloak or mantle, hanging in very formal folds from the shoulder 
 and reaching a little below the middle. The mantle is buttoned upon 
 the right shoulder, thus repeating the principle of the Roman toga, 
 which leaves the right arm free. A similar short cloak is figured in 
 a copy of Froissart's Chronicles in the Harleian MSS. in the British 
 Museum. There was a reason for the mantle being fastened upon the right 
 shoulder; it was that the right arm is the sword-arm. This, however, 
 does not apply to the toga, which is the last garment that a man would 
 fight in. Two other figures in the picture above mentioned are habited 
 in long cloaks reaching to the feet, with full sleeves; the cloak of 
 the dark figure lined and bordered with miniver, and the other of a 
 different fur. 
   
 These long robes with ample sleeves constantly occur in Benozzo 
 Gozzoli's frescoes in the Campo Santo at Pisa, either flowing loosely 
 or confined by a girdle, and generally lined and bordered with miniver, 
 which appears to be a favourite enrichment with Benozzo. These garments 
 are worn usually by more elderly persons. 
   
 In a small but extremely elaborate and beautiful picture by Fra 
 Angelico, in the Convent of San Marco at Florence, a figure appears 
 habited in one of these long robes, having openings for the sleeves of 
 the under garment, which are of a different material, to pass through. 
 The dress is confined by a rich girdle. 
   
 During the reign of Elizabeth the short cloak, or cape cloak, continued 
 to be worn. It reached scarcely below the waistbelt, was provided with 
 a collar, which was often deep, and was lined with silk or satin of a 
 different colour to the outside, often extremely rich. 
   
    "Here is a cloke cost fifty pound, wife, 
    Which I can sell for thirty when I have seen 
    All London in't, and London has seen me." 
   
            BEN JONSON, _The Devil is an Ass_. 
   
 The Spanish cloak was thrown loosely over the shoulders somewhat after 
 the manner of the toga. It was customary to wrap it around the left arm 
 to serve as a shield in duels. 
   
 In the portrait of Prince Henry, eldest son of James I. (p. 103), the 
 Prince is figured as wearing a long mantle reaching to the knees. It 
 has a collar, a richly jewelled border, and is lined with silk damask. 
   
 The Puritan cloak did not differ materially in shape from that worn by 
 the Cavaliers, but, like the rest of Puritan dress, was entirely bare 
 of ornament:-- 
   
 "He was tall and fair, and had plain but very good cloaths on his back" 
 (Bunyan, "Life of Mr. Badman"). 
   
 There are a number of references to dress in Pepys's "Diary," which 
 covers a period of ten years, 1659-69. 
   
 Under date July 1, 1660, he writes: "This morning came home my fine 
 camlett cloak, with gold buttons, and a silk suit, which cost me much 
 money, and I pray God to make me able to pay for it." 
   
 About this time a shorter cloak, reaching to a little below the waist, 
 came into fashion. On October 7th (Lord's Day) of the same year, 1660, 
 occurs the entry: "To Whitehall on foot, calling at my father's to 
 change my long black cloake for a short one, (long cloakes being now 
 quite out), but he being gone to church, I could not get one." 
   
 [Illustration: PRINCE HENRY, ELDEST SON OF JAMES I.] 
   
 Under date October 22, 1663, occurs an entry which refers to the 
 _material_ of the cloak. The Queen was ill of the spotted fever, and, 
 upon hearing that she had grown worse, he sends to his tailor to stop 
 the making of his velvet cloak (presumably coloured) "till I see 
 whether she lives or dies." 
   
 The velvet, however, referred to the lining of the cloak, which was 
 often richer than the outside. On the 29th of the following month (the 
 Queen had recovered and was about again) he dons his best black cloth 
 suit, trimmed with scarlet ribbon, very neat, and his "cloak lined with 
 velvet, and a new beaver, which altogether is very noble." 
   
 In the reign of William III. the long skirted coats of the men, 
 with waistcoats reaching to the knees, rendered any outer clothing 
 unnecessary, except for the coldest weather, when long cloaks were 
 worn, together with muffs, by the beaux. 
   
 Muffs were at this period worn as commonly by men as by women, and this 
 fashion continued for nearly a century. 
   
 The beau with his muff is thus satirised in the comic opera "Lionel and 
 Clarissa," by Isaac Bickerstaff, _c._ 1768:-- 
   
    "A coxcomb, a fop, a dainty milk-sop; 
    Who, essenc'd and dizen'd from bottom to top, 
    Looks just like a doll for a milliner's shop. 
    A thing full of prate, and pride and conceit; 
            All fashion, no weight; 
    Who shrugs and takes snuff; and carries a muff; 
    A minnikin, finicking, French powder-puff!" 
   
 [Illustration: EARL OF ROCHESTER, 1641-1711. 
   
 _Kneller, National Portrait Gallery._ 
   
 _Photo by Walker & Cockerell._] 
   
 The mantle does not appear to have particularly excited the wrath of 
 the satirists. It is, indeed, so entirely reasonable a garment both 
 for men and women, that it is difficult to see how it could possibly 
 provide material for satire. 
   
 Broadly speaking, there are three conditions necessary to beautiful 
 dress, namely, beauty of material, excellence of workmanship, and 
 variety of fold. If ornament be introduced, it should be of a good 
 character, and employed rather in accordance with those well understood 
 laws of contrast than an indiscriminate covering of the whole field; in 
 fact, this defeats its own purpose, as richness of effect depends upon 
 concentration, as a painter focusses light, colour, or other interest 
 in a particular part of his work and allows nothing to detract from it. 
 As a general rule, plain spaces are best adapted for ornamentation, 
 although in the rich brocades of the fine periods the foldings of the 
 material give an added richness and variety to the patterning. 
   
 The mantle, therefore, is usually bare of ornament or simply bordered, 
 except for occasions of high ceremony; certainly plain if worn loosely, 
 and many foldings ensue; and any richness of ornament is confined 
 to the more closely fitting portions of the dress. In a word, the 
 decorative conditions of dress are as well defined, as absolute, as in 
 any other of the ornamental arts. 
   
 
 
 
 FOOTNOTES Pg 5 
 [7] Scott's "Kenilworth." 
   
 [8] "The Four Sons of Aymon," Caxton's version. 
   
 [9] This chivalrous monarch not only founded the Order of the Garter, 
 but even contemplated the revival of the Round Table. 
   
 [10] Pilch or pilcher, a scabbard, a _covering_ for the sword. 
   
 
 
 
 IV (THE DOUBLET AND HOSE) 
 The absence of wrinkle or fold, alluded to in the above quotation, 
 is commonly suggestive of the modern spirit in dress. The first 
 thing an artist does in painting a figure in hose is to indicate the 
 little wrinkles or folds at the knee and ankle. This, as serving two 
 purposes, first as a decorative enrichment to the limb, and secondly 
 as indicating, together with the colour of the material, the fact that 
 the limb is clothed. There are, however, such things as "fleshings," 
 which are made of some material possessing elasticity, and so reducing 
 the wrinkles and folds to a minimum; but if there is one thing more 
 than another which is characteristic of clothing or drapery, it is its 
 _folds_--their constant and endless change varying with every movement. 
 The ideal of modern tailoring appears to be something which shall have 
 as near as possible the appearance of a deal board, to eliminate as far 
 as possible the foldings of drapery with their infinite variety and 
 almost endless play of light and shade. 
   
 With the doublet and hose we deal with a comparatively recent period, 
 when dress generally assumed a more formal character, and the loose 
 tunic gave place to the more closely fitting doublet. 
   
 Long before this, however, the sleeves had developed in various ways, 
 in strange and fantastic shapes. In the reign of Richard II.-- 
   
    "Cut worke was great both in Court and townes, 
    Bothe in men's hoodes and also in their gownes, 
    Broudur[11] and furre and goldsmith's worke all newe 
    In many a wyse each day they did renewe." 
   
            HARDING'S _Chronicle_. 
   
 The tight sleeves of the reigns of the three Edwards had given place 
 to a sleeve of more ample proportions. The monk of Evesham speaks of 
 "pokys" shaped like a bagpipe: "The devil's receptacles, for whatever 
 was stolen could be popped into them." 
   
 The "cut work" above alluded to was extremely fantastic, the jagged 
 edgings of the sleeves, and, indeed, the rest of the costume, taking 
 the shape of the serrations of leaves, as well as other ornamental 
 devices. 
   
 In the reign of Edward IV. the short jackets, doublets, or pourpoints, 
 were provided with closely fitting sleeves, which were divided at the 
 elbow and shoulder, allowing the shirt or under-garment to appear as 
 puffing, tied with ribbons at these points, and laced underneath up the 
 whole length of the arm. 
   
 [Illustration: FIGURE FROM THE MIRACLE OF ST. BERNARD. 
   
 _By Fiorenzo di Lorenzo, Pinacoteca, Perugia._] 
   
 Another development of the sleeve, which lasted for a long period, was 
 the addition of an outer sleeve with a slit in the middle to allow of 
 the arm with its tight sleeve being passed through, the rest of the 
 sleeve hanging down. This was ornamented in a variety of ways, either 
 by edgings of fur or by embroidery. 
   
 Hose, that is, the more or less tightly fitting nether garments, 
 be they breche, hosen, or what not, have been worn from a very 
 early period. An illustration is given, from Hope's "Costume of the 
 Ancients," of Paris on Mount Ida, in which he is figured as wearing a 
 closely fitting garment which covers the whole body and limbs, being 
 buttoned all the way up the legs and arms; a short tunic, also buttoned 
 up the front, being worn over this dress. A similar tightly fitting 
 dress was, in fact, worn by the Amazonian women. 
   
 The cross-gartering, worn by the Goths, Franks, Anglo-Saxons, and other 
 nations, is referred to under the "shoe," of which it usually formed 
 a part. Some kind of hose, stockings, or bandages was invariably worn 
 underneath the gartering, which often extended the whole length of the 
 leg. This cross-gartering probably originated with the practice among 
 the peasants of enswathing the legs with hay-bands. 
   
 The short trouser of the Normans, or tunic and trouser in one, with 
 short sleeves attached, of which so many examples occur in the Bayeux 
 tapestry, is a garment which has puzzled many writers, on account of 
 the apparent difficulty of putting it on. It appears to have been put 
 on from below upwards, by being drawn on the thighs, and afterwards 
 putting the arms in the sleeves. In the illustration given of a similar 
 dress (p. 116), the metal plates or pieces of leather which serve as 
 armour are added to the front of the dress only. The cross-gartering in 
 this instance would probably not reach above the knees. 
   
 [Illustration: PARIS ON MOUNT IDA. 
   
 _From Hope's "Costume of the Ancients."_] 
   
 From the Norman period onwards, tight hose continued to be worn, and 
 presented little variation except in the matter of colour and material. 
 The parti-coloured hose of the Plantagenet period and later called 
 forth many strictures from the satirists and moralists, chiefly 
 clerical, of the time. "The red side of a gentleman, they declared, 
 gave them the idea of his having been half roasted, or that he and his 
 dress were afflicted by _St. Anthony's fire_!"[12] 
   
 [Illustration: ANGLO-SAXON RETAINER.] 
   
 This parti-colouring presented many variations. The legs were either 
 plain, dark and light alternately, of various colours, black and red, 
 black and yellow; or a variation of one colour, red, yellow, or grey, 
 as the case may be; or one leg was striped in various ways; or the 
 parti-colouring would assume various forms, as a zig-zag on the thigh, 
 or calf, or both; in fact, the leg was regarded as a field for the 
 dress designer to exercise his ingenuity in the matter of contrast, 
 upon the principle of what is known in ornament as counterchange. 
   
 In Field's play of "A Woman is a Weathercock," 1612, one of the 
 characters exclaims, "Indeed, there's reason there should be some 
 difference in my legs, for one cost me twenty pounds more than the 
 other." 
   
 At the beginning of the sixteenth century a new development appears, 
 which began as an upper garment reaching only to the knees, also at 
 this period called hose, upper stocks, and "trawses," which were 
 puffed, slashed, and embroidered in various ways; this was the 
 precursor of the _breeches_, or trunk-hose, which by the end of the 
 century had developed to such enormous proportions. 
   
 Numerous examples of the "slashed" period will be found in the drawings 
 by Holbein and Durer, and the engravings by Hans Burgkmair. The 
 "slashings," which may be regarded as ornament _in relief_, presented 
 as many variations as did the flat ornament of the earlier period on 
 the plain surface of the leg. The garment was either slashed downwards, 
 horizontally, or diagonally, and occasionally slashed to such an extent 
 that it appeared merely as a system of ribbons. Variety of colour was 
 arrived at either by the under-garment, stocking, or hose being of a 
 different hue to the upper; or by a system of puffing, in which another 
 or third colour was introduced. The puffing was also of a different 
 material, either of silk or other light material, while the upper or 
 slashing was of cloth or velvet. 
   
 It was an exceedingly rich, ornate, and fantastic period; the _jerkin_, 
 or body garment, together with the sleeves, were also cut and slashed 
 on the same principle as the lower garment, or _vice versâ_, the 
 slashings on the body usually appearing diagonally on either side. 
 In two female portraits, however, by Holbein at Basle, the slashings 
 appear perpendicularly underneath the breast, the sleeve being slashed 
 on the same principle. 
   
 The greatest richness of slashing always appears in the sleeve, a 
 common form being to slash the sleeve in ribbons, which hang loose from 
 the shoulder to the elbow. In the instances of several of the foot 
 soldiers in Hans Burgkmair's "Triumphs of Maximilian," the outer sleeve 
 is simply cut to ribbons, which stream loosely from the shoulder; and 
 it seems, indeed, a little curious that at present, when all sorts of 
 devices are employed for the purpose of producing variety, that some 
 fashion of this sort has not been adopted for women. It represents, 
 however, the most extreme development of the slash; it would be 
 impossible to carry the principle farther. 
   
 We now arrive at the period of the enormous trunk-hose, _temp._ 
 Elizabeth and James I., of which an example of their highest 
 development appears in the illustration of "Knightly Pastimes--Hawking, 
 1575," and in which the middle of the body appears inflated like a 
 balloon, the "bombasting" of the breeches being carried to its utmost 
 limit. Their gipcieres are well in evidence in each instance. This 
 article of costume was, no doubt, originally a game bag, but was 
 afterwards generally used as a pocket or pouch-- 
   
    "An anlas and a gipser al of silke 
    Heng at his gerdul white as morne mylke." 
   
            CHAUCER. 
   
 [Illustration: KNIGHTLY PASTIMES: HAWKING, 1575.] 
   
 The trunk-hose are, according to Stubbes ("Anatomy of Abuse"), of three 
 kinds--the French, the Gallic, and the Venetian hosen. The French hose 
 "are of two divers making; the common sort contain length, breadth, 
 and sideness sufficient, and they are made very round; the other sort 
 contain neither length, breadth, nor sideness proportionable, being not 
 past a quarter of a yard on the side, whereof some be paned or striped, 
 cut and drawn out with costly ornaments, with _canions_ adjoined, 
 reaching down beneath the knees. 
   
 "The Gallic hosen are made very large and wide, reaching down to the 
 knees only, with three or four gardes apiece laid down along the thigh 
 of either hose. The Venetian hosen reach beneath the knee to the 
 gartering-place of the leg, where they are tied finely with silken 
 points, and laid on also with rows or gardes, as the other before. And 
 yet notwithstanding, all this is not sufficient, except they be made 
 of silk, velvet, satin, damask, and other precious stuffs besides; 
 so that it is a small matter to bestow twenty nobles, ten pounds, 
 twenty pounds, forty pounds, yea, an hundred pounds, upon one pair of 
 breeches; and yet this is thought no abuse neither." 
   
 It has been stated by various writers that silk hose, _i.e._, stockings 
 of silk, were unknown in England prior to the middle of the sixteenth 
 century. However this may be, silk stockings were, in the reign of 
 Edward VI., considered as a gift worthy of a king's acceptance; it is 
 recorded that Sir Thomas Gresham (whose portrait appears on p. 121) 
 presented this monarch with a pair of long Spanish silk hose. 
   
 [Illustration: SIR THOMAS GRESHAM, 1519-1579. 
   
 _Sir Antonio More, National Portrait Gallery._ 
   
 _Photo by Emery Walker._] 
   
 In the inventory of the wardrobe of Henry VIII., taken after his 
 decease, appears: "One pair of short hose, of black silk and gold woven 
 together; one pair of hose, of purple silk and Venice gold, woven 
 like unto a cawl, and lined with blue silver sarsenet, edged with a 
 passemain of purple silk and of gold, wrought at Milan; one pair of 
 hose of white silk and gold knit, bought of Christopher Millener; six 
 pair of black silk hose knit." 
   
 We learn from Stow that Mistress Montague, the Queen's silk-woman, 
 presented Elizabeth with "a pair of black knit silk stockings, 
 which pleased her so well, that she would never wear any cloth hose 
 afterwards." 
   
 The "bombasting" of the trunk-hose (the word is usually applied to 
 the doublet, but may be applied equally well to the trunk-hose) was 
 effected by means of a stuffing of rags, wool, tow, hair, and even 
 bran. Holinshed relates a story of a man "who is said to have exhibited 
 the whole of his bed and table furniture, taken from these extensive 
 receptacles." The name trunk-hose would seem a peculiarly appropriate 
 one! The story is probably apocryphal (although quite plausible) of 
 the young man who, engaged in animated, and apparently rather excited 
 conversation with several ladies, caught his trunk-hose in a nail, and 
 let out the bran, the hose collapsing suddenly, to the consternation of 
 their wearer and the corresponding amusement of the ladies. 
 Ben Jonson, "Every Man out of his Humour," thus recounts a misfortune 
 which happened to Fastidio in a duel: "I had on a gold cable hatband, 
 then new come up, of massie goldsmith's work, which I wore about a 
 murrey French hat, the brims of which were thick embroidered with 
 gold twist and spangles; I had an Italian cut-work band, ornamented 
 with pearls, which cost three pounds at the Exchange.... He, making 
 a reverse blow, falls upon my embossed girdle--I had thrown off the 
 hangers a little before; strikes off a skirt of a thick satin doublet 
 I had, lined with four taffataes; cuts off two panes of embroidered 
 pearls; rends through the drawings out of tissue; enters the lining, 
 and skips the flesh; and not having leisure to put off my silver 
 spurs, one of the rowels catched hold of the ruffle of my boot, it 
 being Spanish leather, and subject to tear; overthrows me, and rends 
 me two pairs of stockings, that I had put on being a raw morning--a 
 peach-colour and another." 
   
 In the same play, Fungoso, reckoning up the price of Fastidio's dress, 
 says: "Let me see; the doublet--say fifty shillings the doublet--and 
 between three and four pounds the hose,--then the boots, hat, and 
 band;--some ten or eleven pounds will do it all." 
   
 By the year 1583 the trunks are rifled of their contents in order to 
 provide stuffing for the doublet. It will be noticed in the cut of 
 knightly pastimes that the girdle meets at a point in front. This shape 
 was emphasised, the doublet protruded in front, and hung down for some 
 distance, and the peas-cod bellied doublet was developed. We must again 
 turn to our old "anatomist" Stubbes: "Certain I am there was never any 
 kind of apparel invented that could more disproportion the body of a 
 man than their doublets with great bellies do, hanging down beneath the 
 groin, as I have said, and stuffed with four or five, or six pounde 
 of bombast at the least. I say nothing of what their doublets be 
 made; some of satin, taffata, silk, grograine, chamlet, gold, silver, 
 and what not; slashed, jagged, cut, carved, pinched, and laced with 
 all kinds of costly lace of divers and sundry colours, of all which, 
 if I could stand upon particularly, rather time than matter would be 
 wanting." The peas-cod bellied doublet is still perpetuated in the 
 person of our esteemed contemporary, Mr. Punch. 
 An excellent example of the trunk-hose of the latter part of the reign 
 of James I. appears in the engraved portrait of Henry, Prince of Wales. 
 The hose consists of a series of richly embroidered straps discovering 
 the silk or velvet trunk in the narrow intervals between. 
   
 With the reign of the "martyr King" Charles, both peas-cod bellied 
 doublets and trunk-hose disappear, and the costume of this period is 
 strikingly picturesque. Charles was a man of cultivated taste, and 
 handsome to boot; he undoubtedly influenced the costume of his time. 
 The earliest engraved portraits, by Francis Delaram and William Hole, 
 exhibit him in long, loose breeches reaching to the knees, with the 
 doublet still pointed at the waist. The more familiar costume of this 
 monarch is, however, that which is seen in the various portraits by 
 Vandyke. The costume of the Cavaliers is well described in a little 
 book on British costume published in the "Library of Entertaining 
 Knowledge" in 1834: "It consisted of a doublet of silk, satin, or 
 velvet, with large loose sleeves, slashed up the front; the collar, 
 covered by a falling band of the richest point lace, with that 
 peculiar edging now called Vandyke; a short cloak was worn carelessly 
 on one shoulder. The long breeches, fringed or pointed, as we have 
 already mentioned, met the tops of the wide boots, which were also 
 ruffled with lace or lawn. A broad-leafed Flemish beaver hat, with a 
 rich hatband and plume of feathers, was set on one side of the head, 
 and a Spanish rapier, hung from a magnificent baldrick or sword-belt, 
 worn sashwise over the right shoulder." 
   
 We now arrive at the period of the dandiacal Pepys, who describes 
 with great unction the various changes and details of his costume. 
 On September 13, 1660, the Duke of Gloucester died of the small-pox 
 "by the great negligence of the doctors." He was buried on the 21st 
 at Westminster, and on the 22nd our chronicler "purchased a pair of 
 short black stockings to wear over a pair of silk ones for mourning." 
 On April 23, 1661, the occasion of the King's going from the Tower to 
 Whitehall, he rose with the lark, made himself as fine as he could, and 
 put on his velvet coat, the first day that he put it on, "though made 
 half a year ago." 
   
 "_September 29th, 1661._--This day I put on my half cloth black 
 stockings, and my new coate of the fashion, which pleases me well, and 
 with my beaver I was (after office was done) ready to go to my Lord 
 Mayor's feast, as we were all invited." 
   
 The long laced coats, familiar during the latter part of the reign of 
 the "Merry Monarch" and the succeeding reign, had already come into 
 vogue. On May 11, 1662, Pepys repaired in the afternoon to Whitehall, 
 and "walked in the parke," where he saw the King, "now out of mourning 
 in a suit laced with gold and silver, which it was said was out of 
 fashion." 
   
 The costume of the masses during the Commonwealth and Restoration, was 
 the well-known knee breeches and stockings, with doublet or jerkin. 
   
 In a poem called "Wit Restored," _c._ 1658, is described the holiday 
 dress of a countryman when courting:-- 
   
    "And first chill put on my Zunday parell 
    That's lac't about the Quarters; 
    With a pair of buckram slopps, 
    And a vlanting pair of garters. 
    With a sword tide vast to my side, 
    And my grandfather's dugen and dagger, 
    And a peacock's veather in my capp, 
    Then, oh, how I shall swagger!" 
   
 About the year 1658 petticoat breeches crossed the silver streak 
 from Versailles, and became the vogue at the Court of Charles II. 
 Randal Holme, writing in 1659, describes the dress as follows:--"A 
 short-waisted doublet and petticoat breeches, the lining being lower 
 than the breeches and tied above the knees; the breeches are ornamented 
 with ribands up to the pocket, and half their breadth upon the thigh; 
 the waistband is set about with ribands, and the shirt hanging out over 
 them." The petticoat breeches were not ridiculous in themselves--the 
 modern Scotch kilt, which is an extremely picturesque and even 
 reasonable costume, is made upon precisely the same principle; it was 
 the absurd lace ruffles, which hung drooping below the knee, which 
 were worn with the petticoats during the earlier period, and in which 
 Charles II. is figured in Heath's Chronicle, 1662, which made the 
 costume a banality. The figure of the exquisite of 1670 from Jacquemin 
 wears the petticoat breeches, but without the ruffles or frills at the 
 knees. It must be confessed, however, that the gentleman possesses a 
 sufficiency of frill! 
   
 [Illustration: AN EXQUISITE. 
   
 _From Jacquemin._] 
   
 Petticoat breeches had disappeared by the end of the reign of Charles 
 II., and we have now to deal with another distinct change in the 
 national costume. In an inventory of apparel of Charles II. in 1679 
 appears a suit of clothes of one material, and consisting of _coat_, 
 waistcoat, and breeches. William III. is figured in 1694 in a long 
 laced coat with enormous sleeve cuffs, the waistcoat almost as long as 
 the coat, with large flaps and pockets also richly laced, the nether 
 garments being knee breeches and stockings with buckled shoes, the hat 
 cocked according to the fancy of the wearer. This coat, indeed, has, 
 with variations, existed up to the present time. The gold lacings, 
 the rows of buttons down the front, the huge cuffs, indeed, have 
 vanished; but the modern coat is, fundamentally, the same as its 
 earliest prototype. The two buttons at the back, which now serve no 
 purpose other than an ornamental one, once buttoned up the flaps, and 
 constitute the last remains of the coat's former glories. 
   
 Towards the middle of the eighteenth century the coat fits tightly 
 to the body, the skirts being long and ample, and made to stand out 
 stiffly by being lined with buckram; the large Kevenhuller hat has 
 given place to one of much more moderate proportions. 
   
 [Illustration: PHILIPPE DE VENDÔME, GRAND PRIEUR DE FRANCE. 
   
 _From an old print in the British Museum._] 
   
 The fop of the day is thus ridiculed by Diana in the play of "Lionel 
 and Clarissa," by Isaac Bickerstaff, 1768:-- 
   
    "Ladies, pray admire a figure, 
    Fait selon le dernier gout. 
    First, his hat, in size no bigger 
    Than a Chinese woman's shoe; 
    Six yards of ribbon bind 
    His hair en baton behind; 
    While his foretop's so high, 
    That in the crown he may vie 
    With the tufted cockatoo. 
    Then his waist so long and taper 
    'Tis an absolute thread-paper: 
    Maids, resist him, you that can. 
    Odd's life, if this is all th' affair, 
    I'll clap a hat on, club my hair, 
    And call myself a man." 
   
 The short hair and large bishop's sleeves of the clergy are satirised 
 in the same play:-- 
   
 "Lauk! Madam, do you think, when Mr. Lionel's a clergyman, he'll be 
 obliged to cut off his hair? I'm sure it will be a thousand pities, 
 for it is the sweetest colour! and your great pudding-sleeves, Lord! 
 they'll quite spoil his shape, and the fall of his shoulders. Well, 
 Madam, if I was a lady of large fortune, I'll be hanged if Mr. Lionel 
 should be a parson, if I could help it." 
   
 
 
 
 FOOTNOTES Pg 6 
 [11] Embroidery. 
   
 [12] Fairholt, "Costume in England." 
   
 
 
 
 V (THE KIRTLE OR PETTICOAT) 
 The kirtle or petticoat is in reality a development of the tunic. It 
 is the tunic which has become a closely fitting bodice, with long 
 draperies, more or less formal, attached. The names of the different 
 portions of dress have at different periods varied almost indefinitely. 
 The first item of the habit of the Order of the Garter is successively 
 described as tunic, coat, surcoat, and _kirtle_. 
   
 The kirtle, therefore, takes up the story of costume from the time when 
 the loose tunic gave place to a more formal attire--broadly speaking, 
 from the Norman Conquest. 
   
 During the eleventh century, however, woman's dress was still the loose 
 tunic, the principal change being in the remarkable development of 
 the sleeves, which, although close fitting along the whole length of 
 the arm, either had an extraordinary attachment at the wrist in the 
 form of a bag or pouch, or were abnormally extended and widened at the 
 wrist and tied in knots to avoid treading on them. This fashion is 
 satirised in the figure of the devil from the Cotton MSS., given in 
 the introductory chat of this work. 
   
 In the "Romaunt of the Rose," written at the close of the thirteenth 
 century, John de Meun relates the story of Pygmalion, representing 
 him as adorning the statue he had created with a succession of the 
 garments of the fashion of the period of the poem, with the purpose of 
 discovering which became her best:--"He clothed her in many guises; 
 in robes, made with great skill, of the finest silk and woollen 
 cloths; green, azure, and brunette, ornamented with the richest skins 
 of ermines, minivers, and greys: these being taken off, other robes 
 were tried upon her, of silk, cendal, mallequins, mallebruns, satins, 
 diaper, and camelot, and all of divers colours. Thus decorated, she 
 resembled a little angel; her countenance was so modest. Then, again, 
 he put a wimple upon her head, and over that a coverchief, which 
 concealed the wimple, but hid not her face. All these garments were 
 then laid aside for gowns, yellow, red, green, and blue; and her hair 
 was handsomely disposed in small braids, with threads of silk and 
 gold adorned with little pearls, upon which was placed, with great 
 precision, a crestine; and over the crestine, a crown or circle of 
 gold, enriched with precious stones of various sizes. Her little ears 
 were decorated with two beautiful pendants of gold, and her necklace 
 was confined to her neck by two clasps of gold. Her girdle was 
 exceedingly rich, and to it was attached an aulmoniere, or small purse, 
 of great value." 
   
 In the reign of Edward III. the close-fitting bodice appears, with 
 the girdle over the hips, the sleeves either tight or provided with 
 an upper sleeve with long tippets or streamers from the elbow. Later 
 a kind of "spencer"[13] jacket, or waistcoat, was worn, faced and 
 bordered with miniver or other fur. These "spencer"-like jackets lasted 
 for a considerable period. An example appears in the effigy of Joan of 
 Navarre, Queen of Henry IV. A similar jacket again appears in the reign 
 of Henry VI. 
   
 [Illustration: THE CLOSE FITTING JACKET. 
   
 TEMP. EDWARD III.] 
   
 The Italian _cassone_, or marriage chests, of the fourteenth and 
 fifteenth centuries, furnish us with many examples of graceful dresses 
 of a character peculiar to that period and nation, but which fashion 
 obtained to some extent elsewhere; a good deal of the grace of these 
 things is due, however, to the fine convention adopted in the work of 
 this period. A feature of this dress is the long wide sleeves streaming 
 from the shoulders, part sleeve and part cloak. The illustration which 
 forms the heading of Chat IV. will serve to give some idea of this 
 dress. 
   
 At the commencement of the Tudor period the costume of the ladies is 
 still that of the period of high head-dresses of the middle of the 
 century. The waist is still high and narrow, the gown long, ample 
 and flowing, often edged with fur, and with fur collar and cuffs. By 
 the end of the reign of Henry VIII., however, costume had undergone 
 a marked change. The waist suddenly drops, the stomacher appears, 
 together with the bell-shaped open gown, with richly embroidered 
 petticoat, which lasted for a considerable time--to the time of Charles 
 I., in fact. Both cut gown and inner petticoat were ornamented, either 
 by woven patterns or embroidery, the richest ornaments being reserved 
 for the petticoat; the turnovers or "collars" of the skirts being 
 plain, in contrast to the rich ornaments of the upper surface. 
   
 An interesting portrait of Queen Mary (Red Mary) by Lucas de Heere, 
 in the possession of Sir William Quilter, was recently shown at the 
 exhibition at the Guildhall of the works of Flemish painters. She 
 wears a black dress with stiffened collar behind, ornamented with gold 
 embroidery, open at the neck, disclosing a pink bodice also richly 
 embroidered, the sleeves furred at the elbows. 
   
 The era of petticoat inflation began about this time; it was such a 
 remarkable development that the consideration of it is reserved for a 
 separate chat. 
   
 In Holinshed's Chronicle, 1577, appears an amusing cut of "Makbeth 
 and Banquho" met by "the iij weird Sisters or Feiries." "Makbeth" is 
 figured as wearing an astonishing Life Guard helmet and plume. "The iij 
 weird Feiries" are fascinating creatures, gaily dressed in ornamented 
 kirtles, with panniers, puffed sleeves and shoulders, and, in one 
 instance, with a remarkable peaked turban with streamer on her head. 
   
 [Illustration: A LADY OF BASLE. 
   
 _Holbein._] 
   
 The dress of the Tudor period was magnificent beyond description. In a 
 wardrobe account of Henry VIII., seven yards of purple cloth-of-gold 
 damask is apportioned for a kirtle for Catherine of Arragon. As in the 
 case of the men, the sleeves were invariably the richest portion of 
 women's dress. "Amongst the inventories of this reign we find: three 
 pair of purple satin sleeves for women; one pair of linen sleeves, 
 paned with gold over the arm, quilted with black silk, and wrought with 
 flowers between the panes and at the hands; one pair of sleeves of 
 purple gold tissue damask wire, each sleeve tied with aglets of gold; 
 one pair of crimson satin sleeves, four buttons of gold being set on 
 each sleeve, and in every button nine pearls." 
   
 This extravagance was more than continued during the reign of 
 Elizabeth. It is thus satirised by Beaumont and Fletcher in "Four Plays 
 in One." 
   
    "I went then to Vanity, whom I found 
    Attended by an endless troop of taylors, 
    Mercers, embroiderers, feather-makers, fumers; 
    All occupations opening like a mart, 
    That serve to rig the body out with bravery; 
    And through the room new fashions flew like flies, 
    In thousand gaudy shapes; Pride waiting on her, 
    And busily surveying all the breaches 
    Time and decaying nature had wrought in her, 
    Which still with art she piec'd again, and strengthened. 
    I told your wants; she shew'd me gowns and headtires, 
    Embroider'd waste coats, smocks seamed through with cut-work, 
    Scarfs, mantles, petticoats, muffs, powders, paintings, 
    Dogs, monkies, parrots; all of which seem'd to show me 
    The way her money went." 
   
 The beauties of the Court of the Merry Monarch are made familiar to us 
 by the pencil of Sir Peter Lely.[14] The age was distinguished in the 
 case of the women not so much for the magnificence of its costume as 
 for the scantiness of it. It was to a certain extent a return to the 
 simplicity of Nature! 
   
 "If," says Addison, writing in the _Spectator_, "we survey the 
 pictures of our great-grandmothers in Queen Elizabeth's time, we see 
 them clothed down to the very wrists, and up to the very chin. The 
 hands and face were the only samples they gave of their beautiful 
 persons. The following age of females made larger discoveries of their 
 complexion. They first of all tucked up their garments to the elbow, 
 and, notwithstanding the tenderness of the sex, were content for the 
 information of mankind to expose their arms to the coldness of the air, 
 and injuries of the weather." 
   
 They affected a mean between dress and nakedness, which occasioned the 
 publication of a book entitled "A Just and Seasonable Reprehension of 
 Naked Breasts and Shoulders," with a preface by Richard Baxter, _temp._ 
 Charles II. 
   
 Herrick's lines may be said to foreshadow the period:-- 
   
    "A sweet disorder in the dress 
    Kindles in clothes a wantonness; 
    A lawn about the shoulders thrown 
    Into a fine distraction; 
    An erring lace, which here and there 
    Enthrals the crimson stomacher; 
    A cuff neglected, and thereby 
    Ribbons to flow confusedly; 
    A winning wave, deserving note 
    In the tempestuous petticoat. 
    A careless shoe-string, in whose tie 
    I see a wild civility;-- 
    Do more bewitch me, than when art 
    Is too precise in every part." 
   
 The remarks of our diarist Pepys on the subject of dress are always 
 entertaining, although he displays perhaps less interest in his wife's 
 dresses than in his own. 
   
 "_April 15th, 1662._--With my wife, by coach, to the new Exchange, 
 to buy her some things; where we saw some new-fashion petticoats of 
 sarcanett with a black broad lace printed round the bottom and before, 
 very handsome, and my wife had a mind to one of them." 
   
 [Illustration: THE CHILDREN OF CHARLES I. 
   
 _After Vandyck. Engraved by Sir Robert Strange._] 
   
 His wife's dressmaker's bill is apparently a much less serious item 
 than his own dress expenses, which is perhaps the reverse of the 
 present order of things. 
   
 "_October 30th, 1663._--To my great sorrow find myself £43 worse than I 
 was the last month.... But it hath chiefly arisen from my layings-out 
 in clothes for myself and wife; viz., for her about £12, and for myself 
 £55--or thereabouts,(!) having made myself a velvet cloak, two new 
 cloth skirts, a new shag gown, trimmed with gold buttons and twist, 
 with a new hat, and silk tops for my legs, and many other things, being 
 resolved, henceforward, to go like myself"(!!). 
   
 "_March 2nd, 1669._--My wife this day put on her first French gown, 
 called a Sac, which becomes her very well." 
   
 May Day of the same year: "My wife extraordinary fine with her flowered 
 tabby gown that she made two years ago, now laced exceeding pretty; 
 and indeed was fine all over. And mighty earnest to go, though the day 
 was very lowering; and she would have me put on my fine suit--which I 
 did"(!). 
   
 A certain affectation by the ladies of male costume made its appearance 
 towards the close of the century. Laced and buttoned coats and 
 waistcoats were worn, together with a smartly cocked hat surmounted 
 with a feather. It also appeared earlier, during the reign of 
 Elizabeth, and was satirised by Stubbes, and later, in the _Spectator_, 
 by Addison. We picture Die Vernon in a habit of this kind, which was 
 chiefly worn for riding, but also for walking. Fielding describes the 
 appearance of Sophia Western at the inn at Upton in a similar habit. 
   
 [Illustration: MISS LEWIS. 
   
 _Engraved by James Macardell._] 
   
 The rigidity of the bodice at the commencement of the Hanoverian 
 period was an echo of an earlier time, when Good Queen Bess strutted 
 it in wheeled farthingale. It was strongly fortified with whalebone 
 strips, and formed a V in front. 
   
 One of the chief characteristics of the dresses of this period was 
 the naturalistic floral patternings, which were seen everywhere, and 
 even invaded the dress of the men, whose waistcoats were gay with 
 embroidered flowers. This floral patterning was the outward and visible 
 sign of the general interest which was then taken in natural form. 
 Linnæus, at Upsala, was propounding his botanical system; gardening 
 was generally popular. Mrs. Delany thus describes a dress which she 
 saw at Court in February, 1741, and which is sufficiently indicative 
 of the generally prevailing taste: "The Duchess of Queensberry's 
 clothes pleased me best; they were white satin embroidered--the bottom 
 of the petticoat brown hills covered with all sorts of weeds, and 
 every breadth had an old stump of a tree that ran up almost to the top 
 of the petticoat, broken and ragged and worked with brown chenille, 
 round which twined nastersians, ivy, honeysuckles, periwinkles, 
 convolvuluses, and all sorts of twining flowers, which spread and 
 covered the petticoat; vines with the leaves variegated as you have 
 seen them by the sun, all rather smaller than nature, which makes them 
 look very light; the robings and facings were little green banks with 
 all sorts of weeds; and the sleeves and the rest of the gown loose, 
 twining branches of the same sort as those on the petticoat. Many of 
 the leaves were finished with gold, and part of the stumps of the 
 trees looked like the gilding of the sun." 
   
 [Illustration: THE GAMUT OF LOVE. 
   
 _From an engraving after Watteau._] 
   
 The quilted petticoat with figured panniers which is associated with 
 the name of Dolly Varden is a charming dress of the rustic or idyllic 
 sort. Like the rigid bodice, it was a development of the dress of 
 an earlier period; it was, in fact, the stiff outer kirtle of the 
 Elizabethan and Stuart periods looped up in folds. 
   
 The fashionable luxuries of the latter half of the eighteenth century 
 are thus commented upon in the _London Magazine_ of February, 1773:-- 
   
 "The modes of dress, as well as those of house-keeping, are articles of 
 incredible expense. Here the ladies are beyond description extravagant. 
   
 "They have spring and summer, autumn and winter silks; brocades, gold 
 and silver stuffs; some of which are bought at the enormous price 
 of thirty guineas a yard. The birthday suit is never worn a second 
 time. Their heads are adorned with Dresden and Mechlin lace, enriched 
 with jewels of immense value: large estates hang upon their ears. How 
 brilliant are their diamond necklaces and stomachers, their watches, 
 and other trinkets!--their very buckles are set with pearls and 
 precious stones." 
   
 A character in "Bon Ton; or, High Life Above Stairs," by David Garrick, 
 1775, exclaims:-- 
   
 "This fellow would turn rake and maccaroni if he was to stay here a 
 week longer--bless me, what dangers are in this town at every step! 
 O, that I were once settled safe again at Trotley-place!--nothing 
 to save my country would bring me back again: my niece, Lucretia, 
 is so be-fashioned and be-devilled, that nothing, I fear, can save 
 her; however, to ease my conscience, I must try; but what can be 
 expected from the young women of these times, but sallow looks, wild 
 schemes, saucy words, and loose morals!--they lie a-bed all day, sit 
 up all night; if they are silent they are gaming; and if they talk, 
 'tis either scandal or infidelity; and that they may look what they 
 are, their heads are all feather, and round their necks are twisted 
 rattlesnake tippets--O tempora, O mores!" 
   
 In the _Lady's Magazine_ for April, 1782, the following announcement of 
 fashionable dress at Paris is given:-- 
   
 "The Queen of France has appeared at Versailles in a morning dress that 
 has totally eclipsed the levée robe, and is said to be the universal 
 rage. The robe is made of plain sattin, chiefly white, worn without 
 a hoop, round, and a long train. It is drawn up in the front, on one 
 side, and fastened with tassels of silver, gold, or silk, according 
 to the taste of the wearer; and this discloses a puckered petticoat 
 of gauze or sarsenet, of a different colour. The sleeves are wide 
 and short, drawn up near the shoulder with small tassels, or knots 
 of diamonds; under sleeves of the finest cambrick, full plaited, and 
 trimmed at the elbow with Brussels or point, give infinite charms to 
 the whole. The fastening of the waist is not straight down the stays, 
 but gently swerved, and trimmed with narrow fur, as is the bottom of 
 the robe. A round pasteboard hat, covered with the same sattin, and 
 without any other ornaments than a diamond buckle, or an embroidered 
 one, finishes the dress, which, it is said, will be worn through the 
 summer, made of lighter materials." 
   
 The French Revolution was productive of many things--not the least of 
 which was the change it brought in the matter of dress. The revival 
 of classicism in costume during the Empire, which was to a great 
 extent due to the influence of the painter David, was an echo of the 
 earlier classic revival in architecture, mainly represented in this 
 country by the work of the brothers Adam, who designed, as well as 
 architecture, carriages, furniture, plate, and even a sedan chair for 
 Queen Charlotte. With the advent of the Revolution the fashion suddenly 
 changes. The oft-quoted couplet-- 
   
    "Shepherds, I have lost my waist; 
    Have ye seen my body?" 
   
 a parody on a popular song, "The Banks of Banna"--expresses the 
 disappearance of that portion of the body, which had previously been 
 absurdly long. The ample flowered skirts of the middle of the century 
 gave place to light gauze clinging coverings which exhibited as much 
 of Nature's form as was--desirable. The _merveilleuses_ appeared in 
 gossamer gowns, slit from the hips and buttoned at the knees after the 
 fashion of the Macedonian girls alluded to in a previous chat, the 
 legs encased in fleshings. "Behold her, that beautiful citoyenne, in 
 costume of the ancient Greeks, such Greek as painter David could teach; 
 her sweeping tresses snooded by glittering antique fillet; bright-dyed 
 tunic of the Greek woman; her little feet naked as in antique 
 statues, with mere sandals and winding strings of riband--defying the 
 frost."[15] 
   
 [Illustration: MADAME DE MOUCHY, IN BALL DRESS. 
   
 _Engraved by Pierre-Louis Surugue._] 
   
 "English Costume from Pocket-books," 1799, tells of a Russian officer, 
 who, having been accustomed at home to estimate the rank of a lady by 
 the _warmth_ of her clothing, offered a woman of fashion a penny, in 
 Bond Street, under the impression that from her nakedness she must be a 
 pauper! 
   
 [Illustration: WALKING DRESS, 1810.] 
   
 The Empire gown is figured in the illustration of a walking dress, 
 It lasted practically until the advent of the crinoline in the 
 
 forties, when it finally disappeared. There has been recent talk of its 
 revival, but dancing men are found to be opposed to it, if for no other 
 reason than the difficulty of knowing where to place their arms; and 
 dancing men are apparently a necessity. 
   
 The really fashionable people are those who are not in the fashion. 
 This may at first sight seem a paradox, but a moment's consideration 
 will be sufficiently convincing. The Empress of Germany gives an 
 order to her dressmaker for four dresses, on the strict understanding 
 that no others are to be made like them (_vide_ daily paper). _This_ 
 is the genuine woman of fashion. The people who are "in the fashion" 
 are the sheep. "Bell-wether takes the leap and they all jump over." In 
 other words, there can be no really beautiful dress unless the spirit 
 of individualism is fostered. Dress should "express" the wearer and 
 provide an index as to character. Indeed, it does, as the spectacle 
 of a woman or a man following blindly the dictates of fashion is 
 sufficient evidence that he or she possesses no character at all. 
   
 There is also a manner of dressing and of wearing, a certain elegance 
 that distinguishes people of taste from the vulgar, which gives each 
 portion of the dress its due importance, and imparts a harmony to the 
 whole, as in the composition of a picture, which weaves every detail 
 into one design and impresses the beholder as a masterpiece. 
   
 [Illustration: PROMENADE COSTUME, 1833.] 
   
 Moreover, there is a charm and piquancy of manner quite apart from 
 the dress itself, or even the personal beauty of the wearer, which 
 distinguishes the fascinating woman. A character in "The Belle's 
 Stratagem" exclaims--with what degree of truth the reader himself must 
 determine: 
   
 "Pho! thou hast no taste! English beauty! 'tis insipidity: it wants 
 the zest, it wants poignancy, Frank! Why, I have known a Frenchwoman, 
 indebted to Nature for no one thing but a pair of decent eyes, reckon 
 in her suit as many counts, marquisses, and petits maîtres, as would 
 satisfy three dozen of our first-rate toasts. I have known an 
 Italian marquizina make ten conquests in stepping from her carriage, 
 and carry her slaves from one city to another, whose real intrinsic 
 beauty would have yielded to half the little grisettes that pace your 
 Mall on a Sunday." 
   
 
 
 
 FOOTNOTES Pg 7 
 [13] The term "spencer" is a modern one, and is said to originate from 
 an accident to Lord Spencer, in which he lost his coat-tails during a 
 hunt, _temp._ George III. 
   
 [14] "This day I did first see the Duke of York's room of pictures of 
 some Maids of Honour, done by Lilly; good, but not like."--_Pepys's 
 Diary._ 
   
 [15] Carlyle. 
   
 
 
 
 VI (THE RISE AND FALL OF THE CRINOLINE) 
 Fielding, in his description of the beauty and many graces of Sophia 
 Western, feeling his subject to be more than ordinarily sublime, 
 introduces his heroine "with the utmost solemnity, with an elevation of 
 style, and all the other circumstances proper to raise the veneration 
 of the reader": "Hushed be every ruder breath. May the heathen ruler of 
 the winds confine in iron chains the boisterous limbs of noisy Boreas, 
 and the sharp-pointed nose of bitter-biting Eurus. Do thou, sweet 
 Zephyrus, rising from thy fragrant bed, mount the western sky and lead 
 on those delicious gales, the charms of which call forth the lovely 
 Flora from her chamber, perfumed with pearly dews, when on the first of 
 June, her birthday, the blooming maid, in loose attire, gently trips 
 it over the verdant mead, where every flower rises to do her homage, 
 until the whole field becomes enamelled, and colours contend with 
 sweets which shall ravish her most. 
   
 "So charming may she now appear; and you, the feathered choristers 
 of nature, whose sweetest notes not even Handel can excel, tune your 
 melodious throats to celebrate her appearance. _From love proceeds your 
 music, and to love it returns._ Awake, therefore," &c. 
   
 If one were fortunate enough to possess the power of description and 
 imagination of a Fielding, methinks the crinoline would provide a 
 sufficiently inspiring theme. 
   
 It has been said that Milton was a man from his birth. The crinoline, 
 like Milton, is an exception to every law of development. It had, like 
 Milton, neither infancy nor adolescence, but sprang full armed, like 
 "Athene from the brain of Zeus," or perhaps, like Topsy in "Uncle 
 Tom's Cabin," it never was born, but just "growed"--and it grew--like 
 a mushroom (which indeed in form it somewhat resembles), in a night. 
 Or, to adopt yet another comparison, like the sun, which bursts in the 
 morning suddenly in its full refulgence, is obscured for a time by 
 clouds, to blaze again in unabated splendour, and in its turn is again 
 obscured, but only to reappear in glorious sunset. 
   
 The crinoletta, which followed, may be described as the twilight or 
 sweet afterglow--beautiful, tender as the blush on a maiden's cheek, 
 and almost as evanescent, but with none of the glory of the preceding 
 day. 
   
 [Illustration: QUEEN CHARLOTTE. 
   
 _After Gainsborough._] 
   
 In the charming passage from Fielding above quoted, Love, it will be 
 seen, figures as the presiding spirit. This is peculiarly appropriate 
 to the present subject, for, be it known, _Dan Cupid begat the 
 crinoline_. It is said to have been originally invented for the purpose 
 of concealing the illicit amours of a Princess of Spain; but singularly 
 enough, and in a sort of contradictory spirit, is first identified with 
 the august person of the "Maiden Queen." 
   
 The earlier portraits of Elizabeth exhibit her in a dress similar to 
 that of her sister and predecessor, and in an interesting portrait of 
 Catherine Parr at Glendon Hall, Northamptonshire, this Queen appears 
 in a richly embroidered petticoat widened at the base. A similar 
 petticoat or kirtle, widened a little at the hips, is shown in the 
 portrait of Mary, Queen of Scots, with Darnley (p. 169). The hooped 
 petticoat or _vardingale_, however, appears only in the later portraits 
 of Elizabeth. In the famous print by William Rogers, of which a 
 reproduction is given, she is figured in the great ruff with which she 
 is most identified, the interminable stomacher, and the enormous wheel 
 farthingale, with, as Walpole observes, "a bushel of pearls bestrewed 
 over the entire figure"; she also wears a long light mantle edged with 
 lace, a portentous collar, also edged with lace, expanding like wings 
 on either side of the head. She carries the ball and sceptre in her 
 hands. 
   
 [Illustration: QUEEN ELIZABETH. 
   
 _From an engraving by William Rogers._] 
   
 The legend at the foot of the plate runs as follows:-- 
   
    "The admired Empresse through the worlde applauded 
    For supreme virtues rarest imitation, 
    Whose Scepters rule fame's loud-voyc'd trumpet lawdeth 
    Into the eares of every forraigne nation. 
      Cannopey'd under powerfull angells winges 
      To her Immortall praise sweete Science singes." 
   
 The great wheel farthingale was worn by the nobility during the latter 
 half of the reign of Elizabeth, and during the whole of the succeeding 
 reign. The engraving by Renold Elstracke of James I. and his Queen, 
 Anne of Denmark, shows the latter in a farthingale, which in size and 
 general structure is identical with that worn by Elizabeth. It is, 
 however, box pleated round the top of the drum, the farthingale being 
 divided in front and discovering the kirtle underneath. 
   
 The following story is told by Bulwer in his "Pedigree of the English 
 Gallant": "When Sir Peter Wych was sent ambassador to the Grand Seignor 
 from James I., his lady accompanied him to Constantinople, and the 
 Sultaness having heard much of her, desired to see her; whereupon Lady 
 Wych, attended by her waiting women, all of them dressed in their great 
 vardingales, which was the Court-dress of the English ladies at that 
 time, waited upon her highness. The Sultaness received her visitor with 
 great respect, but, struck with the extraordinary extension of the hips 
 of the whole party, seriously inquired if that shape was peculiar to 
 the natural formation of English women, and Lady Wych was obliged to 
 explain the whole mystery of the dress, in order to convince her that 
 she and her companions were not really so deformed as they appeared to 
 be." 
   
 [Illustration: JAMES I. AND HIS QUEEN, ANNE OF DENMARK. 
   
 _From an engraving by R. Elstracke._] 
   
 In the reign of Charles I. the farthingale, although still worn by the 
 lower gentry and citizens' wives, is discarded by the upper classes, 
 and disappears entirely; and it is not until the latter part of the 
 reign of Queen Anne that it rises again, like the Phoenix from its 
 own ashes, but in another form, however, that of the enormous hoop, 
 which grew to such portentous proportions during the reigns of George 
 and II., the outstanding steel or whalebone foundation being 
 
 mainly at the bottom of the skirt instead of at the hips. Sir Roger 
 de Coverley thus expresses the difference between the earlier hooped 
 petticoats and those of the era of the _Spectator_: "You see, sir, my 
 great-great-grandmother has on the new-fashioned petticoat, except that 
 the modern is gathered at the waist; my grandmother appears as if she 
 stood in a large drum, whereas the ladies now walk as if they were in a 
 go-cart." 
   
 [Illustration: FESTAL DRESS, OTAHEITE.] 
   
 It is surprising to find in dress, as in ornamental design, the same 
 ideas, the same ornamental _motifs_, occurring to the people of 
 countries widely separate. There is a curious dress appropriated to the 
 young women of Otaheite who are appointed to make presents from persons 
 of rank to each other; one of these was deputed to present cloths to 
 Captain Cook on his last voyage. A representation of the dress is 
 given in the engraving, which is from Cook's Geography, 1801. The 
 proportions of the drum exceed even that of Queen Elizabeth; in general 
 shape, however, it is similar. It is decorated round the uppermost edge 
 with ornamental festoons of feathers, &c., and constitutes the complete 
 dress of the lady, with the exception of a sort of chemise which 
 appears underneath the breasts, and, presumably, covers the loins and a 
 portion of the lower limbs. 
   
 The hoop petticoat now approaches its highest meridian; its 
 re-appearance was duly announced by Addison, who, in No. 129 of the 
 _Spectator_, relates an adventure which happened in a little country 
 church in Cornwall: "As we were in the midst of service, a lady, who 
 is the chief woman of the place, and had passed the winter at London 
 with her husband, entered the congregation in a little head-dress and a 
 hooped petticoat. The people, who were wonderfully startled at such a 
 sight, all of them rose up. Some stared at the prodigious bottom, and 
 some at the little top, of this strange dress. In the meantime the lady 
 of the manor _filled the area of the church_ and walked up to the pew 
 with an unspeakable satisfaction, amid the whispers, conjectures, and 
 astonishments of the whole congregation." 
   
 Between 1740 and 1745 the hoops spread out at the sides extensively in 
 oblong fashion, resembling a donkey carrying its panniers. Indeed, the 
 simile of the donkey was a favourite one with the caricaturists. In 
 1860 _Punch_ adopts the idea, and issues a warning to ladies who would 
 ride in crinolines on donkeys, and gives a cut of a lady in an enormous 
 crinoline riding on a donkey, with nothing but the donkey's hind legs 
 seen below. 
   
 [Illustration: PORTRAITS OF MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS, AND DARNLEY. 
   
 _From an engraving by R. Elstracke._] 
   
 A poetic description of ladies' dresses in 1773 directs: 
   
    "Make your petticoats short, that a hoop eight yards wide 
    May decently show how your garters are tied." 
   
 Indeed, the hoop of this period had attained to such enormous 
 proportions that, as Fairholt observes, the figure of a lady was 
 considerable; for they were now not only the better, but the larger, 
 half of creation, and half a dozen men might be accommodated in the 
 space occupied by a single lady.[16] 
   
 In a print entitled "The Review," of the latter part of the reign of 
 George II., the inconveniences of the hoop petticoat are exhibited in 
 a variety of ways, and various methods for their remedy are suggested. 
 One of the most ingenious is that of a coach with a moveable roof and 
 a frame with pulleys to drop the ladies in from the top, in order to 
 avoid the disarranging of their hoops which would necessarily attend 
 their entrance by the door. 
   
 Hoop petticoats disappeared early in the reign of George III., and the 
 genius of extravagance then turned its attention to the head-dress. 
   
 [Illustration: "DON'T BE AFRAID, MY DEAR." 
   
 _Engraved by Isidore-Stanilas Helman._] 
   
 In the expiring years of the fifties of the last century the crinoline 
 _proper_ appeared. There had been hints of it earlier, not to say 
 threats, in the bell-shaped skirts which obtained in about 1835, of 
 which the charming creature in the London promenade dress (p. 55) 
 provides an example. 
   
 The chief satirist of the crinoline is _Punch_, although, amongst 
 others, an amusing skit on the difficulties and dangers of the 
 crinoline appeared about 1870, with a number of coloured illustrations 
 by "Quiz," now very rare. 
   
 _Punch_ appears to have been particularly impressed by the "roomy" 
 character of the crinoline, as, in an amusing if somewhat laboured skit 
 in the early days of 1860, he unbosoms himself as follows: 
   
 "Among the million objections to the use of the wide petticoats not 
 the least well-founded is the fact that they are used for purposes of 
 shoplifting. This has many times been proved at the bar of the police 
 courts, and we wonder that more notice has not been attracted to it. 
 For ourselves, the fact is so impressed upon our mind, that when we 
 ever come in contact with a Crinoline which seems more than usually 
 wide, we immediately put down the wearer as a pick-pocket, and prepare 
 ourselves at once to see her taken up. Viewing Crinoline, indeed, as an 
 incentive to bad conduct, we forbid our wives and daughters to wear it 
 when out shopping, for fear that it may tempt them to commit some act 
 of theft. A wide petticoat is so convenient a hiding-place for stowing 
 away almost any amount of stolen goods, that we cannot be surprised 
 at finding it so used, and for the mere sake of keeping them from 
 roguery, the fewer women have it at their fingers' ends the better. 
 Some ladies have a monomania for thievery, and when they go on a day's 
 shopping can hardly keep their hands off what does not belong to them. 
 Having a commodious receptacle in reach, wherein they may deposit 
 whatever they may sack, they are naturally tempted to indulge in their 
 propensity, by the chances being lessened that they will be found out. 
   
 [Illustration: KING AND MRS. BADDELEY.] 
   
 "As an instance of how largely the large petticoats are used in acts 
 of petty larceny, we may mention a small fact which has come within 
 our knowledge, and which it may be to the interest of shopkeepers to 
 know. Concealed beneath the skirts of a fashionably dressed female 
 were, the other day, discovered by a vigilant detective the following 
 choice proofs of her propensity to plunder: viz., twenty-three shawls, 
 eleven dozen handkerchiefs, sixteen pairs of boots (fifteen of them 
 made up with the military heel), a case of eau-de-Cologne, a ditto 
 of black hair-dye, thirty pairs of stays, twenty-six chemises, five 
 dozen cambric handkerchiefs, and eleven ditto silk, nineteen muslin 
 collars, and four-and-forty crochet ones, a dressing case, five hair 
 brushes (three of them made with tortoiseshell and two with ivory 
 gilt backs), a pair of curling irons, eight bonnets without trimmings 
 and nine-and-twenty with them, a hundred rolls of ribbon, half a 
 hundredweight of worsted, ten dozen white kid gloves and twenty dozen 
 coloured ones, forty balls of cotton, nine-and-ninety skeins of silk, 
 a gridiron, two coal-scuttles, three packets of ham sandwiches, 
 twenty-five mince pies, half a leg of mutton, six boxes of French 
 plums, ten ditto of bonbons, nine pâtés de foie gras, a dozen cakes 
 of chocolate and nine of portable hare soup, a warming pan, five 
 bracelets, a brace of large brass birdcages, sixteen bowls of goldfish, 
 half a score of lapdogs, fourteen dozen lever watches, and an eight-day 
 kitchen clock. 
   
 "After this discovery, who will venture to deny that Crinoline with 
 shoplifters is comparable to charity, inasmuch as it may cover a 
 multitude of sins?" 
   
 A curious advertisement in the _Illustrated London News_ of October 
 10, 1863, announces that--"Ondina, or waved Jupons, do away with 
 the unsightly results of the ordinary hoops, and so perfect are the 
 wave-like bands that a lady may ascend a steep stair, lean against a 
 table, throw herself into an armchair, pass to a stall in the opera, or 
 occupy a fourth seat in a carriage without inconvenience to herself or 
 to others, or provoking rude remarks of the observers, thus modifying 
 in an important degree all those peculiarities tending to destroy the 
 modesty of English women, and lastly, it allows the dress to fall 
 into graceful folds. Price 21s. Illustrations free." With all these 
 advantages, who would not wear a crinoline? 
   
 In the new year of 1860 _Punch_ gives a cut ("Some good account at 
 last") of a skater in pot-hat and pegtops, encircled by the framework 
 of an enormous crinoline, cutting graceful figures upon the ice and 
 exclaiming, "Entirely my own idea, Harry--ease, elegance, and safety 
 combined--I call it the skater's friend." "Some good account at last"? 
 Unkind Mr. Punch! Must we, then, measure the value of everything in 
 this world by its bare utility? The crinoline will endure as a sweet 
 solace to senses tired by the ennui of this dull earth. The memory of 
 it will outlive the ages. 
   
 In the early seventies we find our old friend _Punch_ again upon the 
 warpath, and the Venus of Milo dons the crinoletta! This, however, is 
 only a repetition of his satire on the crinoline in his "Essence of 
 Parliament," May, 1860:-- 
   
 "Lord Aberdeen's son, Lord Haddock, or some such name, made a supremely 
 ridiculous speech upon the impropriety of allowing money to any school 
 of Art in which the undraped she-model was studied from. His father, 
 who was called Athenian Aberdeen, and has so earnest a love for Greek 
 Art that he actually favoured Russia because she has a Greek Church, 
 ought to have cured his Haddock of such nonsense. Poor old Mr. Spooner, 
 naturally, took the same really indelicate view of the case. Sir George 
 Lewis expressed his lofty contempt for the Haddock, and Lord Palmerston 
 kippered him in a speech full of good fun. It is impossible that the 
 same country which contains Macdowell's Eve, and Bailey's Eve at the 
 Fountain, can hold Haddock and Spooner. Mr. Punch must avow that he 
 prefers keeping the diviner images, and somehow getting rid of the 
 coarser ones. Pam wanted to know whether the latter would like to stick 
 crinoline on the models, or would be content with African garb. The 
 other Wiscount observed, with more truth than politeness, 'Nude, 
 indeed! I knewed Addock was a Nass.'" 
   
 [Illustration: THE CRINOLETTA DISFIGURANS. 
   
 AN OLD PARASITE IN A NEW FORM. 
   
 _By Linley Sambourne ("Punch")._] 
   
 An illustration is appended to the article of a figure resembling 
 a fish in the act of adjusting a crinoline on the Venus de Medici. 
 The crinoline rests upon the shoulders of the statue like a huge 
 extinguisher. 
   
 As previously hinted, the crinoletta was only a faint echo of the 
 glories of its earlier prototype. It was a cylindrical contrivance, 
 made up of steels or whalebones, either covered with a series of 
 flounces, or worn underneath the dress like a big bustle. In fact, it 
 began as a bustle, and gradually extended its proportions, wagging and 
 swaying from side to side like the tail of a dragon, as the wearer 
 moved. One well remembers--shall we, indeed, ever forget?--these 
 singular "contraptions" displayed unblushingly in drapers' shops, and 
 even hanging in bundles at the doors. 
   
    "Hang out our banners on the outward walls; 
    The cry is still, 'They come.'" 
   
 FOOTNOTES: 
   
 [16] Fairholt, "Costume in England." 
   
 
 
 
 VII (COLLARS AND CUFFS) 
 It is to be understood that the terms "collar" and "cuff" are here only 
 intended to refer to those of linen, lace, or similar material, which 
 are more or less separate from the rest of the costume. A "collar" is 
 simply a neck-band, and may be of any material; in the case of Gurth, 
 "born thrall of Cedric the Saxon," it was of iron, and was the symbol 
 of his servitude. The term "collar" is also applied to certain articles 
 of jewellery-- 
   
    "The collar of some order, which our King 
    Hath newly founded, all for thee, my soul." 
   
            TENNYSON, _Last Tournament_. 
   
 Collars are of a comparatively modern origin, although some form of 
 covering for the neck has been employed from a very early period. The 
 Romans made use of chin-cloths for the protection of the neck and 
 throat, which were termed "focalia." These were worn by public orators, 
 who from professional considerations were fearful of taking cold, and 
 who, doubtless, contributed in no small degree to render the fashion 
 of chin-cloths general. Some, says a writer on Roman antiquities (the 
 Rev. Father Adam), made use of a handkerchief (sudarium) for this 
 purpose. This is probably the origin of the cravat, which is in many 
 countries called neck-handkerchief. 
   
 [Illustration: HENRIETTA, MARQUISE D'ENTRAGUES. 
   
 _Engraved by Wierix._] 
   
 The thorax, of otter's skin, worn by Charlemagne during the colder 
 months, has already been referred to in a previous chat. 
   
 The wimple, also, which was a development of the Roman chin-cloth, and 
 which was worn for such an extended period from the Norman Conquest 
 onwards, is noticed under head-coverings. 
   
 During the greater part of the period of York and Lancaster necks were 
 worn bare, the "camise" appearing at the V-shaped junction of the 
 bodice, the neck being ornamented with jewellery. 
   
 Shirt-bands were originally connected with neck-ruffs, and the ornament 
 adjoined to the wristband of the shirt was known by the denomination of 
 "ruffle," and was originally called the hand-ruff. In the inventory of 
 apparel belonging to Henry VIII. occurs the item, "4 shirts with bands 
 of silver and ruffles to the same, whereof one is perled with gold." 
   
 The ruff is said to have been first invented in the reign of Henry VI. 
 by a Spanish lady of quality, to hide a wen which grew upon her neck. 
 Its first appearance in England was about the time of the marriage of 
 Queen Mary with Philip of Spain, these personages being represented 
 upon the Great Seal of England in 1554 with small ruffs on the necks 
 and wrists. The ruff appears in none of the portraits by Holbein, 
 with the exception of one at Antwerp, which is dated 1543, the year 
 before the painter's death, and is, moreover, a doubtful work. In many 
 portraits by this master, however, the lawn or cambric shirt appears 
 at the neck with the edges ruffled, and often delicately embroidered. 
 In the well-known portrait of the Duchess of Milan belonging to the 
 Duke of Norfolk, and at present in the National Gallery, such a ruffle 
 appears at the neck and also at the wrists, the edges emphasised by a 
 narrow embroidered border in black silk. This black embroidering was 
 very generally employed during the reign of Henry VIII. It appears in 
 a number of Holbein's portraits, both at the wrists and at the neck, 
 and is quite probably due to Holbein's influence. There can be no 
 reasonable doubt that this great painter influenced the dress of his 
 time. The influence of his artistic personality would be considerable, 
 and it is known that he designed dresses for the ladies of the court, 
 several drawings for which are in the Basle Museum. In the inventory of 
 the apparel of Henry VIII. appears: "One payer of sleves, passed over 
 the arms with gold and silver, quilted with black silk, and ruffled at 
 the hand with strawberry leaves and flowers of gold, embroidered with 
 black silk." 
   
 Starching at this period had not reached England; ruffs, therefore, 
 must have been an expensive luxury, as the starched linen, imported 
 from Flanders, could not be worn after being washed. 
   
 In 1564, one Madame Dinghen, who, as her name suggests, hailed from 
 Flanders, set up as a clear starcher in London, and appears to have 
 made the trade of clear starching an extremely lucrative one. Her terms 
 were four or five pounds for teaching "the most curious wives"[17] to 
 starch, and one pound for the art of seething starch. The "curious 
 wives" subsequently made themselves ruffs of lawn; whereupon arose 
 the general scoffing by-word that they would shortly make their ruffs 
 of spider's web. 
   
 [Illustration: HENRY IV. OF FRANCE. 
   
 _From an engraving by Goltzius._] 
   
 A certain Richard Young, described as a justice, for a long time held 
 the monopoly of the manufacture of starch in this country. From the 
 Elizabethan State Papers we learn that in 1589 there was a prosecution 
 against an infringer of the patent, to wit, Charles Glead, a gentleman 
 of Kent, who declared to the Queen's messengers that he would make 
 starch in the face of any patent or warrant yet granted, unless set 
 down by Act of Parliament. 
   
 Setting-sticks, strutts, and poking-sticks were the tools used in the 
 process of starching; the first made of wood or bone, and the latter 
 of iron, which was heated in the fire. It was this heated tool which 
 produced that beautiful regularity characteristic of this article of 
 attire. 
   
 "They be made of yron or steele, and some of brass kept as bright as 
 silver, yea, and some of silver itselfe; and it is well if in processe 
 of time they grow not to be gold. The fashion whereafter they be made, 
 I cannot resemble to anything so well as to a squirt, or a squibbe, 
 which little children used, to squirt out water withall; and when 
 they come to starching and setting of their ruffes, then must this 
 instrument be heated in the fire, the better to stiffen the ruffe ... 
 and if you woulde know the name of this goodly toole, forsooth, the 
 devill hath given it to name a putter, or else a putting sticke, as I 
 heare say" (Stubbes, "Anatomy of Abuses"). 
   
 Upon the introduction of these tools, together with starch, ruffs 
 rapidly increased in their proportions. 
   
 [Illustration: THE INFANTA ISABELLA CLARA EUGENIA. 
   
 _Engraved by Jan Muller._] 
   
 "They became," says Stow, "intolerably large," and were known in 
 London as the "French fashion," in Paris as the "English monster." 
 The greatest gallant was he who possessed the longest rapier and the 
 deepest ruff. It became necessary to apply one of the usual remedies 
 against these and other extravagances of dress--a proclamation, or 
 an Act of Parliament; in this instance a proclamation. Citizens were 
 compelled to reduce their rapiers to a yard in length and their ruffs 
 to "a nail of a yard" in depth. 
   
 The unfinished engraving of the Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia, 
 Archduchess of Austria,[18] will serve to give a very good idea of the 
 dimensions and general appearance of these articles of attire. 
   
 Thus friend Philip Stubbes:--"They have now newly found out a more 
 monstrous kind of ruff, of twelve, yea, sixteen lengths apiece, set 
 three or four times double, and it is of some, fitly called, 'three 
 steps and an half to the gallows.'" 
   
 The "divells cartwheele" attained its greatest circumference in 1582, 
 when that love of change, inherent in the feminine breast, or possibly 
 the grave and reverend appearance of the ruff, occasioned a revolt 
 amongst the younger women, who were disinclined to hide the beauties 
 of their swan-like necks and throats. The ruff was therefore opened in 
 front and elevated behind. This was the gorget or whisk, which was used 
 both plain and laced. 
   
 A curious advertisement appears in the _Mercurius Publicus_, of May 8, 
 1662:-- 
   
 "A cambric whisk, with Flanders lace, about a quarter of a yard broad, 
 and a lace turning up about an inch broad, with a stock in the neck and 
 strap hangers down before, was lost between New Palace and Whitehall. 
 Reward, twenty shillings." 
   
 These whisks appear to have had a special proclivity for getting lost. 
 Planché ("Cyclopedia of Costume") gives a similar advertisement:-- 
   
 "'Lost, a tiffany whisk, with a great lace down and a little one up, 
 large flowers, with a rail for the head and peak' (_The Newes_, June 
 20, 1664)." 
   
 On account of the weight of the "whisk"--it was formed of a wire 
 framework covered with point lace--the "piccadilly" or stiffened collar 
 was devised. 
   
 Hone in his "Everyday Book" writes-- 
   
 "The picadil was the round hem, or the piece set about the edge or 
 skirt of a garment, whether at top or bottom; also a kind of stiff 
 collar, made in fashion of a band, that went about the neck and round 
 about the shoulders: hence the term 'wooden picadilloes' (meaning the 
 pillory) in Hudibras. At the time that ruffs and picadils were much 
 in fashion, there was a celebrated ordinary near St. James's, called 
 Piccadilly, because, as some say, it was the outmost or skirt house, 
 situate at the end of the town; but it more probably took its name from 
 one Higgins, a tailor, who made a fortune by picadils, and built this 
 with a few adjoining houses. The name has by a few been derived from a 
 much frequented house for the sale of these articles; but this probably 
 took its rise from the circumstance of Higgins having built houses 
 there, which, however, were not for selling ruffs." 
   
 Picardil is the diminutive of "picca," a pike or spear head, and was 
 given to this article of attire from the resemblance of its stiffened 
 edges to the points of spears. Philips ("World of Words," 1693) defines 
 pickardil as the "hem about the skirt of a garment--the extremity or 
 utmost end of everything." Whether the collar gave the name to the 
 district or the district to the collar is a matter of some uncertainty; 
 probably, however, the former. The thoroughfare which we now know as 
 Piccadilly certainly did not exist at the time the picadil was first 
 worn, and the district was then "the utmost end of everything"--that 
 is, beyond the confines of the town. 
   
 Piccadilly as a place, or thoroughfare, is mentioned in "The 
 Rehearsal," by George Villiers, second Duke of Buckingham, produced in 
 the winter of 1671:-- 
   
    "His servants he into the country sent, 
    And he himself to Piccadillé went." 
   
 A pickadil is mentioned in the old comedy of "Northward Ho" as part of 
 a woman's dress. 
   
 On the visit of James I. to Cambridge in 1615, the Vice-Chancellor of 
 the University thought fit to issue an order prohibiting "the fearful 
 enormity and excess of apparel seen in all degrees, as, namely, 
 _strange piccadilloes_, vast bands, huge cuffs, shoe-roses, tufts, 
 locks and tops of hair, unbeseeming that modesty and carriage of 
 students in so renowned a university." 
   
 The Church was still more fierce in its denunciation of these articles 
 of attire. Hall, Bishop of Exeter, in a sermon, after having severely 
 censured ruffs, farthingales, feathers, and paint, concludes with these 
 words, which more than equal anything in Stubbes: "Hear this, ye 
 popinjays of our time: hear this, ye plaster-faced Jezabels: God will 
 one day wash them with fire and with brimstone." 
   
 [Illustration: SON OF THE PAINTER DIRCK DE VRIES. 
   
 _Engraved by Goltzius._] 
   
 There appears to be considerable contradiction of terms, as applied 
 to the different collars, both with the writers of the time and with 
 subsequent writers. Barnabe Rich, in his "Honesty of the Age," says: 
 "The body is still pampered up in the very dropsy of excess.... He 
 that some forty years sithence should have asked after a pickadilly, 
 I wonder who should have understood him or could have told what a 
 pickadilly had been, either fish or flesh." 
   
 There was, however, the small ruff, such as is seen in the portraits of 
 Sir Thomas Gresham and Philip II. of Spain (pp. 121-123). There was the 
 large formal ruff which appears in the portrait of Lord Burleigh (p. 
 93), and the still larger ruff of the Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia 
 (p. 187). There was the less formal ruff which fell upon the shoulders, 
 which is seen in many portraits by Franz Hals. There was the high 
 standing pointed collar, such as appears in William Rogers's print of 
 Queen Elizabeth. There was a plain high-standing collar without lace, 
 which went round the back of the head. There was the plain collar of 
 the Cromwellians, which covered the shoulders, and there was also the 
 rich lace collar of the latter part of the reign of Charles I. The 
 plaits of the ruff were occasionally pinned, the rows being sometimes 
 two and three deep. In the "Antiquary," a comedy by Shakerley Marmion, 
 1641, quoted by Strutt, a lover says to his mistress: "Do you not 
 remember what taskes you were wont to put upon me when I bestowed 
 you gowns and petticoats: and you in return gave me bracelets and 
 shoe-ties? How you fool'd me, and set me sometimes to pin pleats in 
 your ruff two hours together?" 
   
 [Illustration: CHARLES I. (IN THREE VIEWS). 
   
 _After Vandyck. Engraved by W. Sharp._] 
   
 In an old play called "Lingua; or, the Combat of the Tongue and the 
 Five Senses for Superiority," 1607, one of the characters remarks:-- 
   
 "It is five hours ago since I set a dozen maids to attire a boy like a 
 nice gentlewoman; but there is such doing with their looking-glasses; 
 pinning, unpinning, setting, unsetting, formings and conformings; 
 painting of blue veins, and rosy cheeks; such a stir with combs, 
 cascanets, purls, falls, squares, busks, bodices, scarfs, necklaces, 
 carkonels, rabatoes, borders, tires, fans, palisadoes, puffs, ruffs, 
 cuffs, muffs, pustles, fusles, partlets, frislets, bandlets, fillets, 
 corslets, pendulets, amulets, annulets, bracelets, and so many lets 
 that the poor lady of the toilet is scarce dressed to the girdle. 
 And now there is such calling for fardingales, kirtles, busk-points, 
 shoe-ties and the like, that seven pedlars' shops, nay, all Stourbridge 
 fair, will scarcely furnish. A ship is sooner rigged by far than a nice 
 gentlewoman made ready." 
   
 Towards the latter part of the reign of Charles I. both ruff and whisk 
 give place to the falling band, which was worn both plain and laced. It 
 had, indeed, appeared earlier, even in the latter years of Elizabeth, 
 but was not in general use until the time of Charles. The trouble 
 occasioned by the ruff and whisk appears to have been a factor of their 
 downfall. A character in the "Malecontent," 1604, exclaims: "There is 
 such a deal of pinning these ruffles when a fine cleane _fall_ is worth 
 all." 
   
 The cravat, or neckcloth, which succeeded the ruff and band, did not 
 come into general use until the latter part of the reign of the Merry 
 Monarch; indeed, some similar form of neck covering became a necessity, 
 on account of the monstrous size of the periwigs. It formed a large 
 bow at the chin, with the ends richly laced. There was a variety of 
 the neckcloth which was twisted like a corkscrew, the ends being drawn 
 through a ring. This was called a "Steinkirk," from the circumstance 
 of the French officers at the battle of that name in 1692, who could 
 not find time to arrange their cravats, and adopted the readier means 
 of twisting them in a knot. The laced ends of the cravat afterwards 
 increased in size, and were drawn through the button-hole of the 
 waistcoat. 
   
 "One of the knots of his tye hanging down his left shoulder, and his 
 fringed cravat nicely twisted down his breast, and thrust through his 
 gold button-hole, which looked exactly like my little Barbet's head in 
 his gold collar" (David Garrick, "Bon Ton; or, High Life Below Stairs," 
 1775). 
   
 From a singular little pocket-manual upon the art of tying the cravat, 
 by H. Le Blanc, Esq., published in 1828, it would appear that there 
 are no less than two-and-thirty different styles of tying the cravat. 
 These are demonstrated in sixteen lessons, with illustrations, together 
 with portrait of the author, figured, as a matter of course, in an 
 irreproachable cravat. 
   
 "When a man of rank makes his _entrée_ into a circle distinguished 
 for taste and elegance, and the usual compliments have passed on both 
 sides, he will discover that his coat will attract only a slight degree 
 of attention, but that the most critical and scrutinising examination 
 will be made on the _set_ of his Cravat. Should this unfortunately not 
 be correctly and elegantly put on--no further notice will be taken 
 of him; whether his coat be of the reigning fashion or not will be 
 unnoticed by the assembly--all eyes will be occupied in examining the 
 folds of the fatal Cravat. 
   
 "His reception will in the future be cold, and no one will move 
 on his entrance; but if his Cravat is _savamment_ and elegantly 
 formed--although his coat may not be of the last _cut_--every one will 
 rise to receive him with the most distinguished marks of respect, 
 will cheerfully resign their seats to him, and the delighted eyes 
 of all will be fixed on that part of his person which separates the 
 shoulders from the chin--let him speak down-right nonsense he will be 
 applauded to the skies; it will be said--'This man has critically and 
 deeply studied the thirty-two lessons on the Art of Tying the Cravat.' 
 But again reverse the picture--it will be found that the unfortunate 
 individual who is not aware of the existence of this justly celebrated 
 work--however well informed he may be on other subjects--will be 
 considered as an ignorant pretender, and will be compelled to suffer 
 the impertinence of the fop, who will treat him with disdain, merely 
 because his Cravat is not correctly disposed--he will moreover be 
 obliged to hear in silence, and to approve (under pain of being 
 considered unacquainted with the common rules of politeness) all the 
 remarks which he will thus subject himself to--occasionally relieved by 
 hearing a whisper of, 'He cannot even put on a Cravat properly.'" 
   
 The reader will not expect, possibly will experience little desire, to 
 be taken through the whole of the two-and-thirty lessons in the art of 
 tying the cravat; a single illustration will probably suffice. It shall 
 be, however, "the sovereign of cravat ties, the 'Noeud Gordien,' the 
 origin of which is lost in the obscurity of antiquity." 
   
 The discovery of the name of the brilliant genius to whom the honour 
 of this invention is due has, apparently, defied the most laborious 
 researches on the part of the author. He can only tell us (what he 
 believes is generally known) that Alexander the Great, although he 
 could conquer a whole world, and, like a youthful character in the 
 works of the immortal Dickens, _sigh for more_ (soup, however, in the 
 case of the juvenile), was still unable to comprehend the theory of its 
 construction, and adopted the shorter and easier method of cutting it 
 with his sword. 
   
 "Attention!" 
   
 Cravats when sent from the laundress should undergo a careful 
 examination as to the washing, ironing, and folding, as the set of the 
 cravat and neatness of the tie _entirely depends upon this_. Whether 
 it be plain or coloured is apparently of little moment, and does not 
 in the least affect its formation, but a stout one is recommended as 
 offering more facilities to the daring fingers of the tyro who would 
 accomplish this _chef-d'oeuvre_. 
   
 It now becomes necessary to meditate deeply and seriously upon the five 
 following directions:-- 
   
 Having carefully chosen the cravat, it must be placed on the neck, 
 
 the ends left hanging (first time). 
   
 Take point K, pass it on the inside of point Z, and raise it (second 
 
 time). 
   
 Lower point K on the tie, now half formed O (third time). 
 
   
 Then, without leaving point K, bend it inside and draw it between 
 
 the point Z, which you repass to the left Y; in the tie now formed, Y 
 O, thus accomplishing the formation of the knot. 
   
 "And last." Having accomplished the knot, flattened it with thumb 
 
 and fore-finger, or with the iron (a small iron is recommended, with a 
 handle, made expressly for the purpose, and moderately warm), you lower 
 the points K Z, cross them, place a pin at the point of junction H, 
 at once solving the problem which defied the greatest of the world's 
 conquerors. 
   
 "_The slightest error in the first fold of this tie will render all 
 succeeding efforts, with the same handkerchief, entirely useless--we 
 have said it._"[19] 
   
 Although, as previously intimated, it is not proposed to wander 
 through the labyrinth of the whole of the two-and-thirty lessons, two 
 others may with advantage be referred to. Our author, though somewhat 
 facetious, is distinctly entertaining. 
   
 [Illustration: DIAGRAMS ILLUSTRATING THE TYING OF THE "NOEUD GORDIEN." 
   
 The Cravat folded. B. The Cravat à la Byron. S. The Cravat 
 
 Sentimentale.] 
   
   
 "The Cravat Sentimentale." 
   
 This, as its name implies, should only be adopted by those whose 
 physiognomy inspires the tender passion. It may be worn from the age of 
 "seventeen to twenty-seven; after that age it cannot, with propriety, 
 be patronised even by the most agreeable." 
   
 "You, then, whom Nature has not gifted with eyes of fire--with 
 complexions rivalling the rose and lily; you, to whom she has denied 
 pearly teeth and coral lips--a gift which, in our opinion, would 
 be somewhat inconvenient; you, in fact, whose faces do not possess 
 that sympathetic charm which, in a moment--at a glance--spreads 
 confusion o'er the senses," &c., pause before adopting the cravat 
 sentimentale--avoid it, in fact; leave it to more highly favoured 
 mortals. 
   
   
 "The Cravat à la Byron." 
   
 This must be worn by none but those who would mount the topmost slopes 
 of Parnassus, and drink deeply of the Castalian spring.[20] Our author 
 does not, indeed, say so, but the fact is sufficiently evident. 
   
 It is universally allowed that the least constraint on the body has 
 a corresponding effect on the mind; a tight cravat, therefore, will 
 "cramp the imagination and, as it were, suffocate the thoughts." This 
 is the reason why Lord Byron submitted to the inconveniences of a 
 cravat, only "when accommodating himself to the _bienséances_ of 
 society," and explains the fact that "whenever he is painted in the 
 ardour of composition his neck is always free from the trammels of the 
 neckcloth." 
   
 Black silk cravats, at the time of our author's writing (1828), 
 were generally worn, and coloured silk handkerchiefs occasionally 
 patronised. It appears that Napoleon invariably wore a black silk 
 cravat, but at Waterloo it was observed that, contrary to his usual 
 custom, he wore a white neckerchief with a flowing bow, although the 
 day previous he appeared in his black cravat. The superstitiously 
 inclined will note this fact; it is, however, extremely unlikely that 
 the change influenced in the slightest degree the result of the battle. 
   
 In the late thirties and early forties Dame Fashion turned her 
 attention in the direction of embroidered muslin. Delicate floral 
 patterns, often displaying considerable taste in design and a high 
 degree of technical skill, were wrought upon collarettes, cuffs, 
 chemisettes, &c.; it was chiefly produced in the north of Ireland, and 
 an extensive trade arose, finding employment for large numbers of women 
 and girls in the counties of Donegal, Tyrone, and Down. The delicacy 
 of the material and the absence of colour, lent itself insensibly to a 
 naturalistic treatment. 
   
 As is usual with the caprices of fashion, the art only lasted for a 
 comparatively brief period. It still survives, however, in the form of 
 embroidered handkerchiefs, for which there is even now a demand. 
   
 
 
 
 FOOTNOTES Pg 8 
 [17] Stow. 
   
 [18] This lady, in 1601, registered a vow not to change her linen until 
 the town of Ostend was taken. The siege lasted three years and three 
 months, by which time her under-clothing had attained a colour which is 
 perhaps easier to imagine than to describe. It provided a name for a 
 stuff, "Couleur Isabella," which was fashionable in France for over a 
 century. 
   
 [19] "What I have said, I have said" (the Right Hon. Joseph 
 Chamberlain). 
   
 [20] The Castalian spring is at the _foot_ of the mountain, but it 
 should have been at the top, where the tired and thirsty traveller 
 would be most likely to need it. Besides, it is not to be expected that 
 we could reverse the order of the paragraph--"_we have said it_." 
   
 
 
 
 VIII (HATS, CAPS, AND BONNETS) 
 Mad as a hatter? How comes an honest craft to be thus maligned? Hatters 
 were never mad--that is, not more so than the rest of us--until they 
 adopted the pot of the chimney as a model.[21] 
   
 Nature has provided in the hair a natural covering for the head. Hats 
 are not really a necessity. 
   
 Dr. Jaeger ("Health Culture") discusses the probable reasons for the 
 greater prevalence of baldness among men than among women. While 
 rejecting the theory that the competition of the beard is precarious to 
 the hair of the head, abstracting from the latter its due nourishment, 
 and pointing out that the long beards and luxuriant heads of hair of 
 our ancestors refute this theory that the more strenuous head-work 
 which falls to the share of the male sex is responsible for the loss 
 of hair; that the unnatural custom of cutting men's hair, first adopted 
 when nature was abandoned in favour of the fashions of civilisation, 
 is to blame for it; that drink, dissolute habits, or heredity is the 
 cause--he finds that a far more probable cause is the difference 
 between the male and female head-covering, "which latter is, as a rule, 
 lighter, more airy, and more porous than the usually almost waterproof 
 and exceedingly absurd male head-coverings, such as the stiff felt 
 hats, and high hats, with the strip of leather which encircles the 
 forehead and effectually retains the perspiration." 
   
 "The best head-covering would certainly be--none at all. But usage, 
 and in many cases weather conditions, render this impracticable."... 
 "Not only are the hard hats, now in such general use, injurious on 
 account of the pores of the material being closed, impeding the passage 
 of the exhalation from the head; but the shellac used in stiffening 
 them has an injurious effect, from which the cherry gum used in the 
 case of the soft hats is comparatively free." He adds: "Of course, 
 soft hats cannot be worn in all cases--on ceremonial occasions the 
 hard hat may be chosen; but ordinarily the hygienically superior soft 
 hat should be worn." Why, however, on occasions of ceremony? Was 
 ceremonial non-existent before the advent of the nineteenth century? 
 It would rather appear that if the nineteenth century is conspicuous 
 for anything it is for its _absence_ of ceremonial. There is absolutely 
 no reason why a hat of a particular density, or even of a particular 
 shape, should be necessary to occasions of high ceremonial. Moreover, 
 in this connection it may be very pertinently asked, Is artistic 
 invention so utterly dead that it cannot devise a head-gear which 
 shall fit in with its surroundings on such occasions as call for more 
 dignity and impressiveness in the matter of costume? It is, however, an 
 incontrovertible fact, as a well-known present-day writer has pointed 
 out, that "revolutions are practicable in everything--in manners, 
 morals, government, even religion--sooner than in clothes; and that 
 sumptuary laws are the only laws that have always failed of being 
 obeyed." It is universally admitted that modern dress is intolerably 
 ugly; that it fails, not only upon its artistic side, but also upon the 
 score of utility; yet every suggestion for its improvement is always 
 met by a flat _non possumus_. 
   
 [Illustration: MRS. ANNE WARREN. 
   
 _After Romney._] 
   
 Some form of hood was, doubtless, the earliest covering for the 
 head, either as a separately made-up article, or, as in the case of 
 the Greeks and Romans, formed by the drawing of the pallium or toga 
 over the head to serve as protection during inclement weather. The 
 Romans had a hooded cloak (cucullus) which was worn by the commoner 
 people, and which, in some form or another, has been in use during 
 all subsequent periods. It is, in fact, generally worn at the present 
 day in most parts of the Continent of Europe, and forms an extremely 
 reasonable and convenient article of attire. 
   
 The hood formed the principal covering for the head of both sexes 
 during the twelfth, thirteenth, and part of the fourteenth centuries. 
 The hood (chaperon) was a separate article of dress as distinct 
 from the cowl (capuchon), which was attached to and formed part 
 of the cloak or other article of dress, although the two terms are 
 indiscriminately used by the earlier writers. 
   
 The hood assumed, in the first instance, more or less the form of 
 the Phrygian cap. The tippet, or tail, was afterwards developed to a 
 considerable length, in the thirteenth century reaching almost to the 
 ground. Dante is usually represented in such a hood, with long tippet, 
 and in the portrait of Cimabue by Simon Memmi, _c._ 1300, the painter 
 appears wearing a hood with a tippet reaching a little below the middle. 
   
 The cap or hood worn by "fools" was simply the hood of the fashion of 
 the particular period, with the addition of the cock's comb, the pair 
 of ass's ears and the bells, occasionally worn all together, and often 
 parti-coloured. 
   
 In the wardrobe accounts of Henry VIII. occurs--"Item, for making a 
 doublet of worsted, lined with canvass and cotton, for William Som'ar, 
 our fool; item, for making of a coat and cap of green cloth fringed 
 with red crule and lined with frize for our said fool." 
   
 The men's turbaned head-dress of the reign of Richard II. and later is 
 sufficiently remarkable to warrant a description. It was a long cloth, 
 wound round and round the head--the edges cut, clipped and jagged in 
 various ways--one end of which either stood up on the top of the head 
 or was allowed to fall over the side of the turban, the other end 
 hanging down in front of the body, longer or shorter according to the 
 fancy or caprice of the wearer, the whole presenting a very fantastic 
 appearance, occasionally, however, not ungraceful. 
   
 [Illustration: HUNTING HAT. 
   
 _Orcagna, Campo Santa, Pisa._] 
   
 The beginning of this head-dress was simply a different way of wearing 
 the hood, as Mr. Planché has shown by means of two diagrams in his 
 "Encylopedia of Costume." It occurred to some ingenious soul to insert 
 his head in the oval opening in the hood made for the face, to gather 
 up in the form of a fan the portion which covered the shoulders, and 
 to bind it in position by winding the long tippet round the head and 
 tucking in the end of it. Later, no doubt, the head-dress was formally 
 made up by the hatter or tailor, as the case may be, and assumed a more 
 complex character. 
   
 [Illustration: HUNTING HAT. 
   
 _Orcagna, Campo Santa, Pisa._] 
   
 The Greeks, when travelling, protected their heads from the heat or 
 the wet by means of a flat broad-brimmed hat, tied underneath the chin, 
 and allowed to hang on the back when not required on the head. This 
 fashion or device was continued during the Middle Ages, and the hat 
 was often worn over the hood (although this would seem a superfluity), 
 the strings were secured at the breast by means of a moveable ring, 
 which, by being moved up underneath the chin, kept the hat in its place 
 on the head. Such a hat was figured on the wall of the old Palace at 
 Westminster, and has been published in the "Vetusta Monumenta" of the 
 Society of Antiquaries. 
   
 During the greater part of the Norman and Plantagenet period the 
 _wimple_ or neck-cloth was common. It was a development of the 
 Anglo-Saxon veil or head-cloth (couvre-chef), and an echo of the mailed 
 coif of the period. It is thus referred to by John de Meun: "Par Dieu! 
 I have often thought in my heart, when I have seen a lady so closely 
 tied up, that her neck-cloth was nailed to her chin, or that she had 
 the pins hooked into her flesh." 
   
 Such a wimple is figured from Orcagna (Campo Santo, Pisa) on the 
 opposite page. 
   
 The golden net-caul (crestine, creton, crespine, crespinette) appeared 
 during the reigns of Henry III. and Edward I., worn either with or 
 without the wimple and veil, and lasted, in its varying forms, well 
 into the sixteenth century. It either enclosed the hair as within a 
 bag or pouch, or assumed the form of a netted cap, as in the so-called 
 "Beatrice d'Este," attributed to Leonardo da Vinci in the Brera at 
 Milan; or the net-bag above alluded to was elongated so as to form a 
 long pigtail, tied at intervals, often extending almost to the feet, as 
 in the marriage scene in the fresco by Pinturicchio in the Piccolomini 
 Library at Siena. It was often richly ornamented with jewels-- 
   
    "Their heads were dight well withal, 
    Everich had on a jolyf coronal 
    With sixty gems and mo." 
   
 [Illustration: FIGURE WITH LONG NET-CAUL.] 
   
 This, however, refers to the chaplet or garland commonly worn by the 
 ladies of the fourteenth century. 
   
    "Thenne was I war of a wommon wonderliche clothed, 
    Purfylet with pelure the ricchest uppon eorthe, 
    I-crouned with a coroune, the King hath no bettre; 
    Alle hir fyve fyngres weore frettet with rynges, 
    Of the preciousest perre, that prince wered evere; 
    In Red Scarlet her Rod i-rybaunt with gold; 
    Ther nis no Qweene qweyntore, that quik is alyve." 
   
            PIERS PLOWMAN, _Description of Meed_ (Bribery). 
   
 [Illustration: _From Fra Angelico, Florence._] 
   
 The hair was now wound up on either side of the head, the coils either 
 worn without any covering or enclosed within a caul; the veil or 
 curtain being extended at the sides. This marked the commencement of 
 those horned head-dresses which were speedily developed to such an 
 extravagant degree, and so excited the wrath of the satirists of the 
 time. 
   
 John de Meun, who completed "The Romaunt of the Rose," observes that 
 these horns appear to be designed to wound the men, and adds: "I know 
 not whether they call gibbets or corbels that which sustains their 
 horns, which they consider so fine, but I venture to say that St. 
 Elizabeth is not in Paradise for having carried such baubles." 
   
 [Illustration: _From Fra Angelico, Florence._] 
   
 In a volume entitled "Jougleurs et Trouvères," by M. Jubinal, is a 
 satire on horned head-dresses, under the title of "Des Cornetes," from 
 a MS. in the Bibliothèque Royale at Paris, of the beginning of the 
 fourteenth century. In this poem it appears that the Bishop of Paris 
 had preached a sermon directed against extravagance in women's dress, 
 their horns and the bareness of their necks. "If we do not get out of 
 the way of the women we shall be killed; for they carry horns with 
 which to kill men." 
   
 This same sermon is quaintly referred to by the Knight of la 
 Tour-Landry in his advice to his daughters: "He said that the women 
 that were so horned were lyche to be horned snails and hertis and 
 unicornes." "I doute that the develle sitte not betwene her hornes, and 
 that he make hem bowe doun the hede for ferde of the holy water." Also 
 the good knight told how there was "onis a gentille woman that come to 
 a fest so straungely atyred and queintly arraied to haue the lokes of 
 the pepille, that all that sawe her come ranne towardes her to wonder 
 lik as on a wilde beaste, for she was atyred with highe longe pynnes 
 lyke a jebet, and so she was scorned of alle the company, and saide she 
 bare a galous on her hede."[22] 
   
 The preaching in the Middle Ages appears to have been remarkably 
 effective. Monstrelet, in his Chronicles, relates a story of one Thomas 
 Conecte, a preaching friar, who attacked the steeple head-dresses with 
 great zeal and resolution. His eloquence was such that the women flung 
 down their head-dresses in the middle of his sermon and made a bonfire 
 of them within sight of the pulpit. He frequently had an audience of 
 20,000 people, the men ranging themselves on one side of the pulpit and 
 the women on the other, the latter appearing "like a forest of cedars 
 with their heads reaching to the clouds." 
   
 The impression he created was, however, not a lasting one; as soon as 
 his back was turned the horns again began to grow: "The women that, 
 like snails in a fright, had drawn in their horns, shot them out again 
 as soon as the danger was over." 
   
 The horn-shaped head-dress appears in no pictorial documents or 
 monuments older than the reign of Henry IV. The heart-shaped head-dress 
 began with a flat pad on the top of the head, with the sides slightly 
 turned up, enclosed in a silken net, which was often jewelled, the hair 
 being worn in coils above the ears, at the back, or hanging down, as 
 the case may be. The sides were then turned up sharply in the shape of 
 a V, and the head-dress heightened. This was developed in a variety of 
 ways. 
   
 The steeple head-dress varied in its height--from a matter of 18 
 inches or less, to 3 feet--in its ornamentation and colour; it 
 was either plain, or decorated with simple bands or ribbons wound 
 crosswise; it varied, however, chiefly in the veiling. There was a veil 
 thrown over the whole, and falling over the sides of the face, or, the 
 veil was attached to the summit of the steeple and allowed either to 
 hang loose, or was looped at some point at the back. There was also a 
 veil which was attached to the lower border of the steeple at its point 
 of contact with the head, and which completely shrouded the head, front 
 and back; there was also the remarkable arrangement of the veil, which 
 was built up on a system of wires, and which was called the "hennin." 
   
 [Illustration: HEART-SHAPED HEAD-DRESS.] 
   
 A variation of the "hennin" was the "butterfly," in which the steeple 
 which formed the base of the head-dress was reduced to a comparatively 
 short "caul," and the veil extended itself on either side like the 
 wings of an insect; this, in a slightly different form, continued to 
 the Tudor period. 
   
 [Illustration: HORNED HEAD-DRESS.] 
   
 There was also the "balloon" or turban. This, like the heart-shaped 
 head-dress, commenced with a flat pad, like a cake, which in its 
 earlier stage was invariably richly ornamented, offering no particular 
 variety in its form; when it became round, it developed a second 
 roll around the forehead, with bands at intervals, which formed its 
 constructive elements. 
   
 Notwithstanding the strictures passed upon these head-dresses by 
 contemporary moralists or purists and by subsequent writers, who simply 
 echo their sentiments without bringing any independent judgment to bear 
 upon the matter, and who often possess no artistic knowledge or even 
 perception, these head-dresses are often extremely piquant and quaint; 
 extravagance there was, doubtless, and even ugliness; but even the high 
 steeple was not out of proportion, as it must be remembered that the 
 gowns and trains were correspondingly long, thus balancing the high 
 tapering steeple. As a matter of fact, the whole dress was in keeping, 
 the high tapering head-dress, the long tapering toes, the close-fitting 
 sleeves (which, however, were occasionally provided with an outer 
 hanging sleeve, also long), forming an _ensemble_ which would compare 
 favourably with the dress of any period. 
   
 The Tudor period brought about a complete change in the head-dresses of 
 both men and women; as a matter of fact, dress generally of this period 
 assumed a graver character. Horns, hearts, steeples, and butterflies 
 suddenly disappeared, and the head-dress of the ladies of the Court 
 assumed that diamond-shaped form with which we are familiar in the 
 portraits by Holbein, who doubtless materially influenced the costume 
 of this period. It consisted of a cap and coverchief, and sometimes a 
 hood, the coverchief being generally allowed to fall down on the right 
 side. The cap was invariably richly jewelled and embroidered. Good 
 examples may be seen in the drawing of the Lady Vaux at Windsor and the 
 portrait of Jane Seymour at Vienna. It was a dignified, restrained, and 
 exceedingly beautiful head-dress; if any confirmation of this statement 
 were needed, it is to be found in the remarks of the various lay 
 writers on costume, who invariably describe it as harsh and ugly. 
   
 An excellent example of the beautiful flat cap or bonnet worn generally 
 during the Tudor period is to be seen in the portrait of William, 
 Duke of Juliers and Cleves, by Aldegrever (p. 6). The cap, in this 
 instance, is tilted to one side of the head, instead of being worn flat 
 on the top; it is jewelled at intervals along the brim, and plumed. 
 The material is most certainly velvet, which is that most generally 
 used by the nobility, but, in 1571, with the view of encouraging 
 English manufactures, it was by Parliament enacted that all persons 
 above the age of six years, except only the nobility and persons of 
 degree, should on Sabbaths and holydays wear caps of wool, of English 
 manufacture. Twenty-six years afterwards this law was repealed. 
   
 [Illustration: FRANCIS BACON. 
   
 _Engraved by W. Marshall._] 
   
 This flat cap appears in a number of portraits by Holbein, worn both 
 tilted on one side and flat on the top of the head. A cap of this kind 
 might very well be worn by men at the present day, minus, of course, 
 the plume and jewels, without appearing startlingly obtrusive. It could 
 be made in any cloth, and would be a great improvement on the caps 
 which are at present in use. The extreme refinement, however, of the 
 Tudor cap is due to the material, to the quality of the workmanship, 
 and, in the instance of the portrait above-mentioned, to the rich 
 jewels which adorn it. 
   
 Similar shaped headgear has, as a matter of fact, been recently 
 adopted by girls, but they are for the most part vulgar productions, 
 indifferently made, and sold cheaply, and afford abundant evidence of 
 the fact that the milliner possessed no artistic knowledge, or even 
 taste, and had not taken the trouble, possibly had not considered it 
 advisable, to refer to fine examples. 
   
 The simple flat cap above mentioned was developed in various ways 
 during the Tudor period, both for men and for women; the brim was 
 either divided in two or more parts, or it was doubled, slashed, and 
 puffed in various ways, the puffing being of a different material and 
 colour to the rest of the hat. For women and for the military, large 
 plumes of ostrich feathers were added. Many examples of the latter may 
 be seen in Hans Burgkmair's "Triumphs of Maximilian." In the equestrian 
 portrait of Charles Howard, Earl of Nottingham (p. 23), we get the 
 pot-hat proper (Elizabethan version), differing very little as to shape 
 from that at present in use, but plumed, with three ostrich feathers 
 and three other pointed ones. The horse is similarly plumed. The hat 
 can scarcely be said to be a thing of beauty, even with the addition 
 of its ostrich plume, and adds nothing to the decorative beauty of the 
 plate, but rather detracts from it. 
   
 [Illustration: THOMAS KILLEGREW. 
   
 _Engraved by William Faithorne._] 
   
 The centenary of the modern pot-hat was celebrated in Paris only last 
 year, and, amid much jubilation, a number of caustic remarks were 
 made by Madame Sarah Bernhardt and others on the subject of "man's 
 cylindrical attire." 
   
 On looking at the various developments during the century, as 
 illustrated in a well-known weekly magazine, the contour of the pot-hat 
 has changed perhaps less than one might suppose. It has not been a 
 continuous development, but, rather, an oscillation backwards and 
 forwards. In point of fact, a continuous development was impossible 
 without taking leave of the pot-hat altogether; one must either 
 retrace one's steps or start upon a new track, as will be seen by a 
 reference to the accompanying diagrams, which must be considered, be it 
 understood, _merely as diagrams_, and not in any sense as representing 
 the limits of the artist's power of realism. 
   
 The scale of decorative development is, like the scale of tones in 
 music, _absolute_. It is the principle upon which Nature herself works, 
 and this principle may be as well illustrated by means of the pot-hat 
 as by anything else, as the principle holds good, and may be applied to 
 any "demned thing," as Mr. Mantalini would say. 
   
 [Illustration: THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHIMNEY-POT HAT.] 
   
 We have, then, the two primal, elemental forms to work with, the 
 straight line and the curved. Fig. 1 represents the pot-hat in what 
 may be called its primordial state, in which state it stands in 
 the same relation to headgear generally as did Millbank Prison to 
 architecture; it would not be possible to produce less variety except 
 by reducing its height and making its shape an exact parallelogram. 
 In the next figure, by substituting the curved line for the straight 
 lines of the sides and brim, we get a hint of those delicate and subtle 
 curves for which the pot-hat is famous. In Fig. 4--not to weary the 
 gentle reader with a long dissertation, he will at once perceive the 
 principle--the degree of curvature is carried as far as is consonant 
 with dignity or propriety; to carry it further would be to border upon 
 buffoonery; such vagaries could not by any possibility be entertained 
 in a work of such gravity and seriousness as the present. The same may 
 be said of development in the direction of _height_. It only remains 
 to develop the hat by means of reducing the width of its crown at the 
 top, since the dimension AA is absolute, as the article must 
 conform itself to the human cranium, which for present purposes is 
 a fixed quantity. It is at this point that we take an affectionate 
 and regretful leave of the pot-hat proper. Fig. 5 represents the 
 high-crowned hat of the reign of James I., and which, in fact, was worn 
 during the greater part of the Stuart period. "I send you," writes the 
 King (James I.) to his son, in 1623, "for youre wearing, the three 
 bretheren that ye knowe full well, but newlie sette, and the mirroure 
 of Fraunce, the fellow of the Portugall dyamont, quiche I wolde wishe 
 you to weare alone in your hatte, with a little blakke feather"; and 
 to Buckingham he says, "As to thee, my sweete gossippe, I send thee a 
 faire table dyamont, quiche I wolde once have givin thee before if thou 
 wolde have taken it, and I have hung a faire pearle to it for wearing 
 on thy hatte or quhaire thou plaisis, and if my Babie will spaire thee 
 the two long dyamonts in forme of an anker, with the pendant dyamont, 
 it were fit for an admiral to weare.... If my Babie will not spaire the 
 anker from his mistresse, he may well lend thee his rounde broocke to 
 weare, and yett he shall have jewells to weare in his hatte for three 
 great dayes." 
   
 It was customary to wear jewels either in front of the hat or upon the 
 brim when turned up. Often a single pearl was depended over the edge 
 of the brim. Such a pearl may be seen in William Rogers's portrait of 
 Robert Devereux, second Earl of Essex (Elizabeth's Essex), the hat, in 
 this instance, having a broad brim. 
   
 [Illustration: ROBERT DEVEREUX, SECOND EARL OF ESSEX. 
   
 _Engraved by William Rogers._] 
   
 To return to our diagrams. No. 6, a further narrowing of the top of the 
 crown, represents the quaint extinguisher hats which have been worn 
 at various periods, and which are still worn by the Welsh peasantry. 
   
    "There came up a Lass from a country town, 
        intending to live in the City, 
    In a steeple-crown Hat and a Paragon Gown, 
        who thought herself wondrous pretty; 
    Her Petticoat serge, her Stockings were green, 
        her Smock cut out of a sheet, Sir; 
    And under it all, was seldom yet seen so fair 
        a young maid for the street, Sir!" 
   
            _Roxburghe Ballads, 1685._ 
   
 By lowering the crown and widening the brim we arrive at the sombrero, 
 No. 7. 
   
 The slouch hat turned up on one side, of the Stuart period, was the 
 precursor, historically and decoratively, of the three-cornered hat of 
 the period of the House of Orange. It was afterwards turned up on two 
 sides, and in this stage decorated with feathers, and finally turned 
 up at the back, thus forming the three-cornered hat, which lasted for 
 a century, the feathers disappearing, and the edges trimmed with lace. 
 Such turning up of the brim was called "cocking" the hat. 
   
 The different modes of cocking the hat were almost innumerable--in 
 fact, according to the fancy of the wearer; there was the "Monmouth 
 cock," after the unfortunate Duke of that name; the "Ramillie cock," 
 which came in at the Battle of Ramillies in 1706; the military cock and 
 the mercantile cock; and upon the accession of George III. (1760) "a 
 hat worn upon an average six inches and three-fifths broad in the brim, 
 and cocked between Quaker and Kevenhuller." 
   
    "When Anna ruled, and Kevenhuller fought, 
    The hat its title from the Hero caught." 
   
            _Art of Dressing the Hair, 1770._ 
   
 From a chapter on hats in the _London Chronicle_ for 1762 we learn 
 that--"Some wear their hats with the corner that should come over their 
 foreheads high in the air; these are the Gawkies. Others do not above 
 half cover their heads, which is, indeed, owing to the shallowness 
 of their crowns; but, between beaver and eyebrows, expose a blank 
 forehead, which looks like a sandy road in a surveyor's plan.... A gold 
 button and loop to a plain hat distinguishes a person to be a little 
 lunatic; a gold band round it shows the owner to be very dangerously 
 infected; and if a tassel is added, the patient is incurable. A man 
 with a hat larger than common represents the fable of the mountain in 
 labour, and the hats edged round with a gold binding belong to brothers 
 of the turf." 
   
 [Illustration: LETITIA BONAPARTE, MOTHER OF NAPOLEON.] 
   
 With the advent of the French Revolution in 1789 the three-cornered 
 cocked hat disappears, and in 1803 we find a noticeable change in 
 costume. "The French anticipated this invasion by sending over the most 
 unsightly fashions that have ever appeared. The most distinguishing 
 features were the coverings of the head, which consisted, in the one 
 sex of an enormous military cap, and in the other of a bonnet, 
 probably of straw, of a very ungraceful form. They are represented in 
 the accompanying cut, taken from a caricature entitled 'Two of the 
 Wigginses--Tops and Bottoms of 1803,' published on the 2nd of July in 
 that year" (Thomas Wright, "Works of Gillray"). 
   
 [Illustration: ANNE DAY. 
   
 _Engraved by James Macardell._] 
   
 In 1765 a large hood appeared called calash, made of a framework of 
 whalebone hoops, resembling the hood of a carriage (_calèche_), and 
 pulled over the head by means of a string. It is said to have been 
 introduced into England by the Duchess of Bedford. 
   
 [Illustration: "TWO OF THE WIGGINSES--TOPS AND BOTTOMS OF 1803." 
   
 _Gillray._] 
   
 What shall we say to the page of Parisian head-dresses from _Bell's 
 Fashionable Magazine_ for April, 1812, three years before the Battle of 
 Waterloo? 
   
 Goldsmith, in a short essay "on the ladies' passion for levelling all 
 distinction of dress," says: "Foreigners observe that there are no 
 ladies in the world more beautiful or more ill-dressed than those of 
 England. Our countrywomen have been compared to those pictures where 
 the face is the work of a Raphael, but the draperies thrown out by some 
 empty pretender, destitute of taste, and entirely unacquainted with 
 design." 
   
 [Illustration: PARISIAN HEAD-DRESSES FOR APRIL, 1812. 
   
 _Bell's Fashionable Magazine._] 
   
 He adds, by way of compensation to the ladies, "If I were a poet I 
 might observe, on this occasion, that so much beauty, set off with 
 all the advantages of dress, would be too powerful an antagonist for 
 the opposite sex; and therefore it was wisely ordered that our ladies 
 should want taste, lest their admirers should entirely want reason." 
   
 It has always been, however, and is still, a stock saying with 
 foreigners that English women are ill-dressed, but the saying has 
 little point in it, since the majority of English fashions still come 
 from abroad. On the comparatively rare occasions when English women 
 rely upon their own invention, taste, and judgment, they appear better 
 dressed than the women of any European country. English women under 
 these circumstances, therefore, if the above statement as to their 
 personality be true, must necessarily be the most charming creatures in 
 the world. 
   
 Amongst modern head-dresses the Spanish mantilla undoubtedly stands 
 out in pleasant relief from the general rule of the commonplace 
 which obtains at present. It is an entirely becoming head-dress, and 
 reasonable, as is also the habit of Spanish women of carrying fans, 
 which are usually attached to the waist, and serve also the purpose of 
 sunshades, being held up to the head on the sunny side of the street. 
 The action is a most graceful one, and the convenience is obvious. 
   
 The panama hat is certainly the most satisfactory male headgear, both 
 as regards appearance, health, durability, and comfort. 
   
 The "bowler" can scarcely be said to be a thing of beauty. It has, 
 however, been rendered historic by the Right Honourable John Burns, 
 who has established a precedent by appearing at Buckingham Palace in 
 this form of head-covering for the purpose of receiving his seals of 
 office. 
   
 To return once again, and finally, to the chimney-pot. Milan has just 
 recently inaugurated her third International Exposition of Industries, 
 Commerce, and Art:-- 
   
 "An amusing sidelight of the Exhibition is the unprecedented stimulus 
 to the sale of stovepipe hats occasioned by a rigid regulation 
 excluding every other kind from the inaugural function. Such a rigid 
 enforcement is quite unknown in Rome itself, where there are said to 
 be Cabinet Ministers, Senators, and Deputies who are innocent of ever 
 having donned one. The story is told that several provincial Deputies 
 who were invited to Milan were so fearful of mishap that they bought 
 tall hats _for their wives as well as themselves_" (_Vide_ daily paper). 
   
 
 
 
 FOOTNOTES Pg 9 
 [21] It would appear to be a corruption of "mad as an atter (adder)". 
 The word "adder" is _atter_ in Saxon, _natter_ in German. Its origin, 
 however, is apparently somewhat obscure. 
   
 [22] The above story was told to the knight by a lady of his 
 acquaintance who was an eye-witness of the event. We give here Caxton's 
 version:--"For her clothyng and araye was different and no thyng lyke 
 to theyr, and therefore she had wel her part beholdyng and lokyng. 
 Thenne said the good ladyes to her, 'My frende, telle ye us, yf it 
 please yow, how ye name that aray that ye have on your heed?' She 
 answerde and saide, 'The galhows aray.' 'God bless us,' said the good 
 lady, 'the name of hit is not faire.'... 'As ferre as I me remembre 
 of it,' continued the knight's informant, 'hit was highe culewed with 
 longe pynnes of sylver uppon her hede, after the makynge and maner of a 
 gybet or galhows, right straunge and merveylous to se.'" 
   
 
 
 
 IX (THE DRESSING OF THE HAIR, MOUSTACHIOS, AND BEARD) 
 There was nothing new, even in the days of Solomon; wigs, curling 
 irons, hair powder, and turned-up moustachios being no exception to the 
 rule. 
   
 We have abundant evidence, both from the concurring testimony of 
 authors and from the actual works which have come down to us, that 
 heated irons were employed from a very early period for the purpose of 
 curling the hair and beard. Both with the Assyrians, and the Greeks 
 of the earlier period, the hair and beard were plaited in a series 
 of symmetrical curls and ringlets, displaying the utmost degree of 
 formality in their arrangement. 
   
 [Illustration: ASSYRIAN BAS-RELIEF. 
   
 _Layard's "Nineveh."_] 
   
 The hair and beard of Belshazzar when he "made a great feast to a 
 thousand of his lords," and received an intimation of an unpleasant 
 character, conveyed to him in an unusual manner, were certainly curled 
 in such wise, and probably dyed and powdered, as was the custom, the 
 powder, however, being gold instead of flour, as in more recent days. 
 As a matter of fact, gold was employed in various ways as an enrichment 
 to the hair. The Kings of Egypt had their beards interwoven with gold 
 thread. 
   
 Herodotus assures us that the skulls of the Egyptians were much harder 
 than those of the Persians, owing to the national custom of shaving 
 the heads of their children at a very early age. He adds, "In other 
 countries the priests of the gods wear long hair; in Egypt they have 
 it shaved. With other men it is customary in mourning for the nearest 
 relations to have their heads shorn; the Egyptians, on occasions of 
 death, let the hair grow both on the head and face, though till then 
 they used to shave." 
   
 The ceremonies and customs relating to the beard are innumerable. The 
 management of the beard formed a considerable part of the religion 
 of the Tartars, who waged a long and bloody war with the Persians, 
 declaring them infidels, though in other respects of the same faith as 
 themselves, because they refused to cast their whiskers after the mode 
 or rite of the Tartars. 
   
 [Illustration: BEARDED BACCHUS. 
   
 _Hope's "Costume of the Ancients."_] 
   
 It has been recorded that the Greeks wore their beards until the time 
 of Alexander, who, fearful lest the length of their beards should prove 
 a handle to their enemies, commanded the Macedonians to be shaven, and 
 the first who shaved at Athens ever after bore the addition of 
 [Greek: choroês] (shaven) on medals. Notwithstanding this statement, 
 however, Philip, the father of Alexander, as well as Amyras and 
 Archelous, his predecessors, are represented without beards. 
   
 According to Pliny, the Romans did not begin to shave until the year of 
 Rome 454, when P. Titinius brought over a stock of barbers from Sicily. 
 Pliny adds that Scipio Africanus was the first to introduce the fashion 
 of shaving daily. It became the custom to have visits of ceremony at 
 the cutting of the beard for the first time. The first fourteen Roman 
 Emperors shaved until the time of the Emperor Adrian, who discontinued 
 the practice and wore a beard, for the purpose, however, of hiding the 
 scars on his face. 
   
 From Gregory of Tours we learn that in the Royal family of France it 
 was for a long time the peculiar privilege of Kings and Princes of the 
 blood to wear long hair, artfully dressed and curled; everybody else 
 was polled, as a sign of inferiority and obedience. To cut off the hair 
 of a son of France under the first race of Kings was to exclude him 
 from the right of succession to the crown, and to reduce him to the 
 condition of a subject. 
   
 French historians, however, tell us that Charlemagne wore his hair 
 short, his son much shorter, and Charles the Bald, as his surname 
 indicates, none at all. 
   
 Good Luitprand furiously declaimed against the Emperor Phocyas for 
 wearing long hair, after the manner of all the other Emperors of the 
 East, with the exception of Theophilus, who, being bald, enjoined 
 all his subjects to shave their heads, like the fox of Æsop, who, 
 having survived the experience of a trap by the sacrifice of his tail, 
 harangued the other foxes on the inconvenience of tails in general, and 
 endeavoured to persuade them to cut off theirs also. 
   
 [Illustration: GREEK HEAD-DRESSES. 
   
 _Hope's "Costume of the Ancients."_] 
   
 In the Church, too, in spite of the beard of Aaron, "that went down 
 to the skirts of his garments," the Nazarite law, and the reputed 
 long hair of the founder of Christianity, the priesthood habitually 
 condemned long hair as being inconsistent with the sacred character 
 of the priest's office. Pope Anictus is supposed to have been the 
 first to forbid the clergy to wear long hair. "The Holy Prelate, 
 Wulstan, reproved the wicked of all ranks with great boldness but he 
 rebuked those with the greatest severity who were proud of their long 
 hair."[23] The Nazarite vow is an act of sacrifice in accordance with 
 the terms of the law laid down in Num. vi. 1-21: "All the days of the 
 vow of his separation shall no razor come upon his head"; "He shall be 
 holy, and shall let the locks of his hair grow." 
   
 The Nazarite has been regarded as a conqueror who subdued his 
 temptations, and who wore his long hair as a crown, the hair being worn 
 _rough_ as a protest against foppery. Another view, however, is that it 
 was kept elaborately dressed, a proof of the existence of the custom 
 being seen in the seven locks of Samson:-- 
   
 "And she made him sleep upon her knees; and she called for a man, and 
 she caused him to shave off the _seven locks of his head_; and she 
 began to afflict him, and his strength went from him" (Judg. xvi. 19). 
   
 Let us listen to the story in the quaint, silvery music of Chaucer:-- 
   
    "This Sampson neyther siser dronk ne wyn 
    Ne on his heed com rasour noon ne schere 
    By precept of the messager divyn 
    For alle his strengthes in his heres were. 
   
            .       .       .       .       . 
   
    Unto his lemman Dalida he tolde 
    That in his heres al his strengthe lay 
    And falsly to his foomen sche him solde 
    And slepying in hir barm upon a day 
    Sche made to clippe or schere his heres away 
    And made his foomen al his craft espien 
    And whan thay fond him in this array 
    Thay bound him fast and put out bothe his yen. 
   
    "But er his heer clipped was or i-schave 
    Ther was no bond with which men might him bynde 
    But now is he in prisoun in a cave 
    Ther as thay made him at the querne grynde 
    O noble Sampson strengest of al man kynde 
    O whilom jugge in glory and in richesse 
    Now maystow wepe with thine eyyen blynde 
    Sith thou fro wele art falle to wrecchednesse." 
   
            _Monk's Tale._ 
   
 [Illustration: ROMAN HEAD-DRESSES. 
   
 _Hope's "Costume of the Ancients."_] 
   
 While the hair was the pride, the glory, and the strength of Samson, it 
 was the bane of Absalom, for by the abundance of his hair he met his 
 death. "In all Israel there was none to be so much praised as Absalom 
 for his beauty: from the sole of his foot even to the crown of his 
 head there was no blemish in him. And when he polled his head (for it 
 was at every year's end that he polled it: because the hair was heavy, 
 therefore he polled it), he weighed the hair of his head at two hundred 
 shekels after the king's weight."[24] Had he polled it at more frequent 
 intervals he might have made good his succession to the crown, and 
 Solomon never have been king, for Absalom had "stolen the hearts of the 
 people of Israel." 
   
 As in a mighty river we may trace back its course to the little rill 
 or rivulet which trickles from the mountain side, so we may often 
 trace the origin of great events to very small beginnings. How might 
 the face of both French and English history have been changed but for 
 Peter Lombard's dislike of a beard! Louis VII. imagined it a matter 
 of conscience to give an example of submission to the command of 
 the bishops on the subject of long hair, and to atone for his many 
 cruelties by being shaved in public. He reckoned, however, without 
 his--wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine, a jocose madcap, who rallied him upon 
 his short hair and shaven chin. "I thought I had married a prince, but 
 find I have wedded nothing but a monk." The breach occasioned by a bare 
 face was widened, and the marriage dissolved. Six weeks afterwards 
 Eleanor was again a wife--Henry, Duke of Normandy, who afterwards 
 reigned as Henry II. of England, being the husband, who obtained 
 with her fair Aquitaine with its three provinces. Hence arose those 
 wars which ravaged France for near three centuries, in which upwards 
 of three millions of Frenchmen perished on the fields of Cressy, 
 Agincourt, and Poitiers, and on many a lesser field. 
   
 Henry I. issued an edict for the suppression of long hair, and as a 
 natural consequence long hair immediately became the rage. This edict, 
 however, was the result of a visit to Normandy, and the preaching of 
 a prelate named Serlo, whose eloquence was such that the monarch and 
 his courtiers were moved to tears. The astute priest, perceiving the 
 impression he had created, immediately whipped a pair of scissors from 
 his sleeve and cropped the whole congregation! 
   
 The patriarchal beard and long hair of Edward III., as exhibited in 
 his effigy at Westminster, is in strict conformity with the general 
 character of this serious minded monarch, strongly contrasting with the 
 character of his successor, Richard of Bordeaux, who was the greatest 
 fop of the day. 
   
 During the century which followed the reign of Edward III. beards were 
 worn of every imaginable cut. There was the fantail beard, with its 
 wadded nightcap for protection during sleep, of the stiffening which 
 was applied. There was, as later, the cathedral beard, the spade beard, 
 the stiletto beard, and there was an extraordinary curled tuft which 
 resembled a corkscrew. There was apparently as much variety of colour 
 as of form-- 
   
 "I will discharge it in either your straw-colour beard, your orange 
 tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your French-crown-colour 
 beard, your perfect yellow" ("A Midsummer Night's Dream," Act I. sc. 2). 
   
 Our Royal "Bluebeard" registered a solemn vow before the French 
 Ambassador that he would never touch razor till he had visited "his 
 good brother" upon the Field of the Cloth of Gold, the "good brother" 
 making a similar vow. With characteristic "English perfidy" Henry broke 
 his vow, while the Frenchman remained true; it was therefore found 
 necessary for Sir Thomas Boleyn to apologise for his master's bad faith 
 by saying that "the Queen of England felt an insuperable antipathy to a 
 bushy chin." 
   
 Henry, indeed, not only shaved his own chin and wore his hair short, 
 but commanded all his subjects to do the same. He granted the barbers a 
 new charter, incorporated them with the surgeons, and became a member 
 of their company. 
   
 It was found that the "science and connyng of Physyke and Surgerie" 
 was practised by unskilful persons, "common artificers, as Smythes, 
 wevers, and women,"[25] who "boldely and custumably take upon theim 
 grete curis, and thyngys of great difficultie, in which they partely 
 use socery and whichcrafte" to the grievous hurt of the Kyng's liege 
 people. It was therefore enacted that none should practise as a 
 physician and surgeon in London except by examination, duly approved by 
 the Bishop of London or Dean of St. Paul's(!). As it seemed needful to 
 provide skilful surgeons for the "helth of mans body whan infirmities 
 and seckness shal happen," and as there are many surgeons in London who 
 give instructions to students, who exercise of the said science "to the 
 greate relief, comforte, and soccour of muche people, and to the sure 
 savegard of their bodily helth, their lymmes and lyves," and as two 
 companies of surgeons exist in London, one "the Barbours of London, and 
 thother company the Surgeons of London," which company of barbours were 
 first incorporated "undre the greate Seale of the late King of famous 
 memory, Edwarde the iiijth, dated at Westminster the xxiiijth day of 
 February in the first yere of his reigne," these two companies ought 
 therefore to be united into one body, with a common seal, power to hold 
 lands, and all the rights of both the old companies. 
   
 [Illustration: HEAD-DRESS. 
   
 _From Viollet le Duc (Fifteenth Century)._] 
   
 It was further found that surgeons were in the habit of taking diseased 
 persons into their houses, where they "doo use and exercise barbery, 
 as wasshing and shaving, and other feates therunto belonging," very 
 perilous to the King's people. Now, "after the feast of the Nativitie 
 of our Lorde God next coming," no barber in London shall practise 
 surgery, "letting of bludde, or any other thing belonging to surgery, 
 _drawing of teth onelye except_." And no surgeon shall "occupye or 
 exercise the feate or crafte of barbarye or shaving," either by himself 
 or by any other for him, to his or their use. 
   
 It was also provided that any person may keep a barber or a surgeon as 
 his servant, who may practise in his master's house. 
   
 It would appear that the observance of the Lord's day was more strictly 
 enforced in the seventeenth century than it is at present-- 
   
 "Att the Councell Chamber on Ouze bridge at York ye xxth of June, 
 A.D. 1676," it was declared and enacted that whereas barber 
 surgeons have been shaving and cutting hair on the Lord's day, We 
 order, that if "any brother of the said company tonse, barbe, or trim 
 any person on the Lord's day, in any Inn," or other place, public or 
 private, of which the Lord Mayor shall judge, he shall be fined ten 
 shillings, and the searchers of the said company for the time being are 
 to make diligent search in all public and private houses as aforesaid, 
 for discovery of such offenders. 
   
 1745 was the fatal year of the separation of the barbers from their 
 more dignified colleagues. Their wings were clipped, their privileges 
 curtailed, the barber's pole and basin, however, still remaining, in 
 silent, eloquent testimony of their former glory and greatness.[26] 
   
 In the reign of Good Queen Bess the campaign against long hair is 
 continued. Philip Stubbes extols barbers to the skies: "There are no 
 finer fellowes under the Sunne, nor experter in their noble science of 
 barbing than they be." Barbers are necessary. "I cannot but marvell at 
 the beastlinesse of some ruffians (for they are no sober Christians) 
 that will have their hair grow over their faces like monsters, and 
 savage people; rather like mad men than otherwise, hanging downe over 
 their shoulders, as womens haire doth; which indeed is an ornament to 
 them, being given them as a sign of subjection." In man it is a "shame 
 and reproch, as the Apostle proveth." 
   
 During the reign of the Stuarts long hair was the vogue--with 
 "love-locks" and "heart breakers." 
   
    "A long love-lock on his left shoulder plight, 
    Like to a woman's hair, well showed a woman's sprite." 
   
    "His beard was ruddy hue, and from his head 
    A wanton lock itself did down dispread 
    Upon his back; to which, while he did live, 
    Th' ambiguous name of _Elf-lock_ he did give." 
   
            _The Great Oyer._ 
   
 The absurd fashion of painting and patching the face, much ridiculed by 
 the satirists, began in the reign of Elizabeth. 
   
    "Whers the Devill? 
    He's got a boxe of women's paint-- 
      Where pride is, thers the Divell too." 
   
            _Quips upon Questions, 1600._ 
   
    "This is an Embleame for those painted faces, 
    Where devine beautie rests her for awhile, 
    Filling their browes with stormes and great disgraces, 
    That on the pained soule yeelds not a smile, 
    But puts true love into perpetuall exile; 
      Hard-hearted Soule, such fortune light on thee 
      That thou maist be transform'd as well as he." 
   
            CHESTER'S _Love's Martyr_, 1601. 
   
 [Illustration: A PAINTED FACE. 
   
 _Roxburghe Ballads._] 
   
 By the reign of James I. this ridiculous fashion had become common. All 
 sorts of curious devices were made use of--spots, stars, crescents, 
 and in one woodcut a coach and coachman with two horses and postilions 
 appear upon the lady's forehead. The fashion continued for a long 
 period; in fact, during the greater part of the Georgian era, when it 
 had degenerated into mere spots or small patches. At the close of the 
 eighteenth century it had entirely disappeared.[27] 
   
 "Wherfor, faire doughtres, takithe ensaumple, and holde it in your 
 herte that ye put no thinge to poppe, painte, and fayre youre visages, 
 the which is made after Goddes ymage, otherwise thanne your Creatoure 
 and nature hath ordeined; and that ye plucke no browes, nother temples, 
 nor forhed; and also that ye wasshe not the here of youre hede in none 
 other thing but in lye and water" ("Advice of the Knight of La Tour 
 Landry to his iij doughtres"). 
   
   
 THE INVINCIBLE PRIDE OF WOMEN. 
   
    I have a Wife, the more's my care, who like a gaudy peacock goes, 
    In top-knots, patches, powder'd hair, besides she is the worst of shrows; 
    This fills my heart with grief and care to think I must this burden bear. 
   
    It is her forecast to contrive to rise about the hour of Noon, 
    And if she's trimm'd and rigg'd by five, why this I count is very soon; 
    Then goes she to a ball or play, to pass the pleasant night away. 
   
    And when she home returns again, conducted by a bully spark, 
    If that I in the least complain, she does my words and actions mark, 
    And does likewise my gullet tear, then roars like thunder in the air. 
   
    I never had a groat with her, most solemnly I here declare; 
    Yet she's as proud as Lucifer, and cannot study what to wear: 
    In sumptuous robes she still appears, while I am forc'd to hide my ears. 
   
    The lofty Top-knots on her crown, with which she sails abroad withal, 
    Makes me with care, alas! look down, as having now no hope at all, 
    That ever I shall happy be in such a flaunting Wife as she. 
   
    In debt with every shop she runs, for to appear in gaudy pride, 
    And when the milliner she duns, I then am forc'd my head to hide: 
    Dear friends, this proud imperious wife she makes me weary of my life. 
   
            _Roxburghe Ballads, circa 1686._ 
   
 Wigs of various kinds have been in use from very early periods, as 
 the grace and ornament which the hair imparts to the human frame have 
 always been generally recognised. The want of it has ever been deemed 
 a subject of reproach, held in ridicule, in all climes; hence the 
 constant recourse to false hair. 
   
 Strutt affirms that the beards of the Egyptians, as well as the 
 coverings for the head, appear to have been made of false hair, and 
 removed when the face was shaved. There is no doubt that the Egyptians 
 wore wigs, as examples are to be seen in the British and other museums. 
   
 The wig given in the illustration is probably a woman's, and was found 
 near the small temple of Isis at Thebes. It belongs to the seventeenth 
 dynasty, about B.C. 1500; it is formed of natural curlings 
 of the hair in the upper portion, and the lower portion, which was 
 originally much longer, consists of long, thin plaits, a number of 
 which have been broken off and decayed, the thin plaitings contrasting 
 very happily with the natural curls. 
   
 [Illustration: WIG, EGYPTIAN, B.C. 1500. 
   
 _British Museum._] 
   
 Lamprideses describes the wig of the Emperor Commodus as powdered with 
 scrapings of gold, and oiled with glutinous perfumes for the powder to 
 hang by. 
   
 Wigs first appear in England during the reign of Stephen, but are 
 seldom mentioned until the Tudor period. The "Maiden Queen" is 
 popularly supposed to have had her head shaved, and to have worn a wig. 
 Mary Queen of Scots had a most complete collection of wigs, and it is 
 recorded that she wore one at her execution. 
   
 The periwig first appears in history as the headgear of a fool. In 
 the privy purse expenses of Henry VIII. for December, 1522, occurs 
 the entry: "For a peryke for Sexton the King's fool xx shillings." By 
 the middle of the same century their use had become general, and it 
 was dangerous for children to wander alone, as they were liable to be 
 deprived of their hair for the manufacture of these articles. 
   
 The periwig blossomed out during the reign of Charles II., and attained 
 enormous proportions; it was often gaily decked with ribbons and 
 allowed to hang over the front and back for some distance. 
   
 The gossiping Pepys, complaining in his diary of October 30, 1663, of 
 his extravagant purchases in wigs, clothes, &c., mentions, amongst 
 other things, two periwigs, "one whereof cost me £3 and the other 40s. 
 I have worn neither yet, but will begin next week, God willing." 
   
    "A Londoner into the country went, 
    To visit his tennants, and gather in rent; 
    He on a brave gelding did gallantly ride, 
    With boots and with spurs, and a sword by his side. 
    Because that the Innkeepers they will not score 
    He lined his pockets with silver good store; 
    And he wore a wigg cost three guineas and more; 
    His hat was cockt up, Sir, behind and before." 
   
            _Roxburghe Ballads, 1688._ 
   
 Wigs when first worn were extremely expensive, costing as much as a 
 hundred guineas, and their value often led to their being stolen from 
 the head. 
   
 The different shapes which the wig assumed were innumerable, and the 
 different classes of society were identified with particular shaped 
 wigs. There were the clerical and the physical; the huge tie peruke for 
 the man of law, the brigadier and the tremendous fox-ear or cluster of 
 temple curls with a pigtail behind, for the Army and Navy. (The Army 
 pigtail was shortened to seven inches in 1804, and in 1808 was cut off 
 altogether.) The merchant, the man of business and of law affected the 
 grave full-bottom; the tradesman was distinguished by the snug bob or 
 natty scratch; the country gent by the natural fly and hunting peruke; 
 "the coachman wore his, as do some to this day, in imitation of the 
 curled hair of a water-dog." 
   
 There were also, as a writer in the _London Magazine_ of 1753 informs 
 us, the pigeon's wing, the comet, the cauliflower, the royal bird, the 
 staircase, the ladder, the brush, the wild boar's back, the temple, the 
 rhinoceros, the corded wolf's paw, Count Saxe's mode, the she-dragon, 
 the rose, the crutch, the negligent, the chancellor, the cut bob, the 
 long bob, the half natural, the chain-buckle, the corded buckle, the 
 snail back, and many others. 
   
 [Illustration: BEAU FIELDING. 
   
 _After Wissing._] 
   
 "The Judge," says Fortescue, "while he sitteth in the King's Courts, 
 weareth a white quoife of silke, which is the principal and chiefe 
 insignement of habite wherewith Sergeants-at-lawe are dekked, and 
 neither the Justice nor the Sergeant shall ever put off the quoife, no, 
 not in the King's presence, though he bee in talke with his majestie's 
 highnesse." 
   
 The coif-cap is still worn on occasions when the Judge passes sentence 
 of death, but with the colour changed to black, the cap being worn over 
 the wig. 
   
 Samuel Rogers in his "Table Talk" tells a good story of Lord 
 Ellenborough's wig. On one occasion when the distinguished Judge 
 was about to go on circuit, his Lady intimated that she would like 
 to accompany him. He replied that he had no objection, provided she 
 did not encumber the carriage with band-boxes, which were his utter 
 abhorrence. During the first day's journey, happening to stretch 
 his legs, he struck his foot against something below the seat, and 
 discovered that it was one of the detested band-boxes. Up went the 
 window, and out went the band-box. The coachman stopped, and the 
 footman, thinking that the band-box had tumbled out of the window 
 by some extraordinary chance, was about to pick it up. "Drive on!" 
 thundered his lordship. The band-box was accordingly left by the 
 ditch. Upon his arrival at the court at which he was to officiate, and 
 arraying himself for his appearance at the court-house, "Now," said 
 he, "where's my wig?--where _is_ my wig?" "My lord," replied the 
 attendant, "it was thrown out of the carriage window!" 
   
 [Illustration: PORTRAIT OF THE PAINTER HYACINTHE RIGAUD.] 
   
 From 1770 onwards was the period of the highest blossoming of feminine 
 head-gear. The bodies of these enormous creations were formed of tow, 
 over which the hair was drawn in great curls, rolls, bobs, &c., with 
 false hair added, the whole freely plastered over with powder, pomatum, 
 &c., decorated with huge bows, ribbons, feathers, and flowers. 
   
 In the "Macaroni Dialogue"--a colloquy between Sir Harry Dimple and 
 Lady Betty Frisky--in the _Lady's Magazine_, iv. 1773, which is 
 illustrated by a picture of a lady and gentleman discussing with great 
 animation the merits of the male and female costumes of this period, in 
 which they are clad, the gentleman is presenting to the lady a nosegay, 
 and she invites his interest in the excessively lofty coiffure which 
 she is wearing. 
   
 "Permit me to present your ladyship with this boquet--it has been to 
 Warren's, doubly perfumed and scented; so that _positively_, my lady, 
 it has not the least of the vulgar odour of the flowers." "I vow, Sir 
 Harry, you are a man of such nice sensations that you would do honour 
 to nobility. I am surprised you have hitherto been overlooked in the 
 creation of Lords." "To be sure, my lady, my taste has never yet been 
 called into question. It was I who first dethroned those abominable 
 monsters the Bucks, and established the reign of the Macaronies--who 
 first improved upon the Poudre à la maréchale by throwing in a dash of 
 the violet. This hat your ladyship sees is of my own cocking--those 
 barbarians the hatters have no more idea of 'de retrousser un 
 chapeau' for a man of genuine taste, than they know how to wear it, and 
 send it home with the smell of the dye, almost sufficient to make one 
 faint. I always order my valet to give it a thorough perfume before it 
 comes into my presence." "O! exquisite refinement--what do you think of 
 my cap?" "Amazing, my lady, beyond description--yet, had it been but 
 an inch higher, it would have been at the very summit of the mode--you 
 would then have been unable to come into a room without stooping, or 
 riding in a coach without the top being heightened." "You see, Sir 
 Harry, I have anticipated you: that upon the table is _two_ inches 
 higher; I shall wear it to-morrow night at the Pantheon." "I hope I 
 shall have the felicity of your ladyship's hand to walk a minuet. We 
 shall have all eyes upon us, no doubt!" "I beg, Sir Harry, that your 
 club may be increased in proportion to my head, else we shall not be 
 fit partners." "My lady, I shall have it as large again--my toupee 
 shall be heightened three inches." "You will then, Sir Harry, be the 
 emperor of the Macaronies." "And you, my lady, their empress." 
   
 [Illustration: RIDICULOUS TASTE, OR THE LADY'S ABSURDITY.] 
   
 In a print of the period of the French lady in London, by J. H. Grimm, 
 published by Carrington Bowles, who appears to have been somewhat 
 of a wag amongst publishers, devoting himself to the curious and 
 extraordinary, the lady is seen bowing as she enters the room, the 
 head-dress reaching to the top of the ceiling. The good man of the 
 house is so astonished and overcome that he falls to the ground, 
 bringing the table with him. A large picture upon the wall represents 
 the Peak of Teneriffe. 
   
 [Illustration: THE FRENCH LADY IN LONDON.] 
   
 Another print, issued by the same publisher, representing the 
 fashionable head-dresses for the year 1776, shows two ladies out 
 walking, attended by their black servant, with head-dresses two yards 
 high. 
   
 In the illustration given of "Ridiculous Taste, or the Lady's 
 Absurdity," Monsieur le Friseur is mounted on a high pair of steps, and 
 is operating upon the summit of the lady's coiffure; a gentleman is 
 taking stock, and giving orders from below. 
   
 In the example given from "Jacquemin," the head-dress represents a ship 
 in full sail. 
   
 [Illustration: HEAD-DRESS. 
   
 _From Jacquemin._] 
   
 In 1776 an etching appeared entitled "Bunker's Hill, or America's 
 Head-dress." The enormous headgear of the lady represents the battle, 
 with tents, fortifications, cannon, and battalions. From the crests 
 of the three hills of the head-dress, which are duly fortified and 
 defended with soldiery and cannon, three banners are flying, on which 
 are figured, respectively, a goose, a monkey, and two ladies holding 
 arrows. The lower portion of the head-dress represents a sea fight. 
   
 In the same year appeared "The New Fashioned Phaeton," a mezzotint 
 representing a conveyance provided with springs, which lifts the lady 
 and her headgear up to the first-floor window, and does away with the 
 need for walking up and down stairs. 
   
 Another print issued by the same publisher is a "hint to the ladies to 
 take care of their heads." The ladies' head-dress having caught alight 
 from a chandelier hanging from the ceiling of a high room, and people 
 are putting out the fire by means of large squirts. 
   
 A charming design for a fancy head-dress is entitled "Betty the Cook 
 maids Head drest." It is in the form of a heart, the centre of which is 
 occupied by a Cheshire cheese with mice, surrounded with a border of 
 greengrocery, &c. On the summit is a stove, with fire alight and meat 
 cooking. A monkey sits upon the stove, wearing a fool's cap and bells, 
 and admiring himself in a mirror. On either side of the head-dress are 
 two trophies composed respectively of a mop and fire-irons and a besom 
 and cooking utensils. 
   
 The legend runs-- 
   
    "The taste at present all may see, 
    But none can tell what is to be. 
    Who knows, when fashion's whims are spread, 
    But each may wear this kitchen head? 
    The noddle that so vastly swells, 
    May wear a fool's cap hung with bells." 
   
 High plumes of feathers re-appeared in 1796. Gillray produced a 
 caricature of a fashionable belle journeying to the Assembly Rooms 
 at Bath in a sedan chair. The top of the conveyance is opened to 
 accommodate the lady's head-dress, a monstrous feather projecting yards 
 above the sedan--a parasol is fastened to a long pole strapped on the 
 back of the hindermost portion and protecting the top. 
   
 During the feather period, a favourite idea was to represent attacks 
 by ostriches, peacocks, and other interested birds. This occurs in a 
 number of prints of the period. The print by John Collet, 1779, of 
 "The Feathered Fair is a Fright; or, Restore the Borrowed Plumes," 
 represents two girls attacked by ostriches:-- 
   
    "Two lassies who would like their mistresses shine, 
    On their heads clap'd some feathers to make them look fine; 
    When two ostriches suddenly came within sight, 
    And put the poor girls in a terrible fright. 
   
    "But how the Birds got to England's no matter, 
    Tho' they certainly made a most terrible clatter; 
    Fanny screamed as she ran, and scampering Polly, 
    With her Fan fought the birds in defence of her folly." 
   
 If the reader be curious in regard to the _modus operandi_ of these 
 astonishing creations, he (or more probably it will be she) is referred 
 to "Plocacosmos; or, The Whole Art of Hairdressing," by James Stewart, 
 1782, wherein the mysteries of the art are set forth with great 
 minuteness and elaboration, far too long to be explained here. The 
 directions for the lady's "nightcap" may, however, be given:-- 
   
 "All that is required at night is to take the cap or toke off, as 
 any other ornament, and as you put them on, you can easily know how 
 to take them off: with regard to the hair, nothing need be touched 
 but the curls; you may take the pins out of them, and, with a little 
 soft pomatum in your hands, stroke the hairs that may have started; 
 do them with nice long rollers, wind them up to the roots, and turn 
 the end of each roller firmly in to keep them tight, remembering at 
 the same time the hair should never be combed at night, having always 
 so bad an effect as to give a violent headache next day. After the 
 curls are rolled up, touch them with your pomatumy hands, and stroke 
 the hair behind; after that take a very large net fillet, which must 
 be big enough to cover the head and hair, and put it on, and drawing 
 the strings to a proper tightness behind, till it closes all round the 
 face and neck like a purse, bring the strings round the front and back 
 again to the neck, where they must be tied; this, with the finest lawn 
 handkerchief, is night covering sufficient for the head." 
   
 "Heads" usually lasted a matter of three weeks, when--'twould be 
 dangerous, madam, to delay longer the opening of your head. We get a 
 glimpse of the possible state of a lady's head at the expiration of 
 that time from the many recipes and advertisements for the destruction 
 of insects in the magazines of the period, which reminds us of Julian, 
 who likened his beard to a "forest grown populous with troublesome 
 little animals." 
   
    "Still to be neat, still to be drest, 
    As you were going to a feast; 
    Still to be powdered, still perfumed: 
    Lady, it is to be presumed, 
    Though art's hid causes are not found, 
    All is not sweet, all is not sound. 
    Give me a look, give me a face, 
    That makes simplicity a grace; 
    Robes loosely flowing, hair as free: 
    Such sweet neglect more taketh me, 
    Than all the adulteries of art; 
    They strike mine eyes, but not mine heart." 
   
            BEN JONSON, _The Silent Woman_. 
   
 The apeing by the tradespeople of the manners of the great is amusingly 
 told in the _Lady's Magazine_ for August, 1782, in the form of a letter 
 to the editor, purporting to be from a respectable greengrocer, who 
 signs himself "Artichoke Pulse." He says: "I wish to God you would 
 write something smart against fashion. My family is almost ruined by 
 the article of dress." It appeared that his son Tom had worked himself 
 into a gentleman's family as footman, and from this circumstance his 
 troubles began. "You can scarcely conceive, my dear Sir, what an 
 alteration this acquaintance with the great family has made. Sally, 
 my eldest daughter, talks of taste and the mode, aye faith, and the 
 dresses too. I will give you a description of her going to see the 
 new comedy of the 'East Indian' the other night, in company with her 
 brothers and sisters, and a lord's footman, who presented them with 
 orders for the two-shilling gallery. 
   
 [Illustration: LOUIS XVI., MARIE ANTOINETTE, AND THE DAUPHIN. 
   
 _Engraved by Augustin de St. Aubin._] 
   
 "Dick Dusty, the hairdresser's apprentice, who lives in a court 
 near us, was sent for at two o'clock, and two pound of Sangwine's 
 eightpenny-halfpenny powder being procured, with a proper quantity 
 of grease, the operation of the head was begun among the cabbages, 
 lettuces, turnips, carrots, peas, and beans that surrounded us. Dick, 
 who was but a novice at his business, cut and slashed away until 
 he had left just as much hair as he could conveniently dress, and 
 then, having worked the grease and the flour into a kind of paste, he 
 plaistered over the head, using his hand as a trowel, until it was 
 fairly encrusted so as to hide the colour of the hair, or to deceive 
 the eye into a belief that the head was a pudding bag turned inside out! 
   
 "As it was summer, my daughters chose to go without caps, and an 
 artificial bouquet was stuck in the front of those puddings. The gowns 
 were silk; but being purchased at a pawnbroker's they were not properly 
 cut for the fashionable hoop. Hoops, however, were to be wore, and even 
 my wife resolved for once, to figure away in one of those oval pieces 
 of nonsense." 
   
        .       .       .       .       . 
   
 "Perhaps in nature, there was never such a figure! Only fashion 
 to yourself a greengrocer's wife issuing from her cellar in Drury 
 Lane, with a monstrous hoop, exposing a pair of legs, the ankles as 
 thick as the calf, and the calf as thick as the modern waist; her 
 hair bepuddened, her cheeks bedaubed with red, her neck of a crimson 
 hue, her arms bursting through a pair of white gloves, the contrast 
 between the two skins being almost the very opposite to each other; a 
 thick-flowered silk exposing the whole front of a quilted petticoat 
 that once was white, and then you have the appearance of my wife! Her 
 daughters made as ridiculous a figure, and Will, I do assure you, was 
 not the least remarkable in the group." 
   
 This sally, recounting the woes of the hapless "Artichoke," provoked 
 an indignant reply from a champion of the women, which duly appeared in 
 the next number:-- 
   
 "I think it high time, then, for every female to exert the little 
 knowledge she may be possessed of in the scribbling line, when the 
 wits, under the characters of Green Grocers, dare to insult us, and 
 speak of our hoops, and other parts of our dress, as freely as they 
 exercise their authority over the ostlers at a country inn. 
   
 "The favour, dear Madam, we wish of you, is to remonstrate with 
 these smart gentlemen, and, with us, tell them they are incapable 
 of correcting the foibles in the ladies' dresses, till they have 
 established a criterion for their own. Did they adopt no other fashions 
 than useful and becoming ones, they might have some solid reasons for 
 reprehending us; but how is this to be done? Can they point out of 
 what use are the high-crowned hats, their shoes tied with strings, the 
 number of buttons lately added to their coats: of what real service 
 that ponderosity of their watches and canes? We will even attend to the 
 Green Grocer, if he can defend them, and no longer despise the opinions 
 of those scrutators of our dress; but till then we must insist that the 
 hoop (the battery at which most of their present artillery is played 
 off against), when of a moderate size, is an addition to the appearance 
 of a fine woman; it is a finishing grace to their persons, and gives 
 them that dignity of appearance that every woman in a genteel line of 
 life has a right to assume." 
   
 Although Kings have often vainly endeavoured to impose their will upon 
 the people in the matter of apparel it has often happened that monarchs 
 have set the prevailing fashion of the period. This is especially 
 noticeable in the Cavaliers of Charles I., numbers of whom adopted the 
 short, pointed beard and moustachios and long hair of their master, in 
 striking contrast to the close cropped and shaven round heads of the 
 Cromwellians. It was so with the Bonapartists of the Third Empire, when 
 the "imperial" became the vogue. 
   
 [Illustration: A REIGNING MONARCH.] 
   
 At a still more recent period, the illustrious personage who is figured 
 here, and who, be it known, appears here _strictly incognito_ (we would 
 fain escape the dire consequences of _lèse-majesté_), has imposed his 
 imperious will, not only upon his own countrymen, but upon the world at 
 large, in the matter of the turned up moustachio. 
   
 "When you come to be trimed, they will aske you whether you will be cut 
 to looke terrible to your enimie, or amiable to your freend, grime and 
 sterne in countenance, or pleasant and demure,--how their mowchatowes 
 must be preserved and laid out, from one cheke to another, yea, almost 
 from one eare to another, and turned up like two hornes towards the 
 forehead" (Stubbes, "Anatomy of Abuses," 1583). 
   
 [Illustration: PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN.] 
   
 The angle at which it is pointed provides an index as to character, 
 and of the degree of pugnacity of the wearer. At an angle of, say, 45 
 degrees forward we may expect to see its owner enter a crowded omnibus 
 with the point of his umbrella held at the same angle, or as a soldier 
 makes ready to present arms. 
   
 In the dressing of the hair, as in costume generally, the lowest depth 
 of the commonplace has been reached during the nineteenth century. It 
 is, however, extremely dangerous to indulge in any kind of sweeping 
 generalities with respect to our own epoch; we are either, from long 
 habit and custom, prejudiced in favour of a particular _régime_, or 
 we are afflicted with that contempt which is born of a too great 
 familiarity. The chignon, in its many developments, is within the 
 memory of most of us; the odious Piccadilly fringe still endures with 
 those persons who are either slaves to habit or who find that the 
 curling and frizzing of the hair of the forehead destroys its capacity 
 for growth. Dundreary and mutton-chop whiskers are even now to be found 
 in out-of-the-way country places. Goldsmith, in one of his delightful 
 essays, tells a story of a traveller who, on his way to Italy, found 
 himself in a country where the inhabitants had each a large excrescence 
 depending from the chin--a deformity which, as it was endemic and 
 the people little used to strangers, it had been the custom, time 
 immemorial, to look upon as the greatest beauty. Ladies grew toasts 
 from the size of their chins, and no men were beaux whose faces were 
 not broadest at the bottom. It was Sunday; a country church was at 
 hand, and our traveller was willing to perform the duties of the day. 
 Upon his first appearance at the church door the eyes of all were fixed 
 upon the stranger; but what was their amazement when they found that he 
 actually wanted that emblem of beauty, a pursed chin! Stifled bursts 
 of laughter, winks, and whispers circulated from visage to visage; the 
 prismatic figure of the stranger's face was a fund of infinite gaiety. 
 Our traveller could no longer patiently continue an object of deformity 
 to point at. "Good folks," said he, "I perceive that I am a very 
 ridiculous figure here, but I assure you I am reckoned no way deformed 
 at home." 
   
 Lord Dundreary would have been impossible in any other epoch than 
 the Victorian, although the Dundreary whisker is but a glorified 
 development of earlier forms-- 
   
    "A marchaunt was ther with a forked berd, 
    In motteleye high on horse he sat." 
   
            _Canterbury Tales._ 
   
 Dundreary, with his striped peg-tops, his eyeglass, and his drawl, 
 exactly fitted his environment. His whiskers represent the very 
 antithesis of the "Piccadilly fringe," also happily gone, or relegated 
 to the coster fraternity, together with the bell-bottomed trouser with 
 which it is in singular affinity. 
   
 The Piccadilly fringe was persistently condemned by artists, notably 
 Mr. G. F. Watts, who pointed out that it obscured and destroyed 
 the beautiful way in which the hair springs from the forehead. Mr. 
 Watts, however, was not the first to warn the ladies against the sin 
 of cropping short and pulling out the hair of the forehead. If there 
 should, peradventure, be any fair readers who are enamoured of the 
 beauties of either the Piccadilly or other fringe, or who should be 
 smitten with the insane desire to pop, paint, or powder the face, let 
 them listen to the sound advice and good counsel which the Knight of 
 La Tour Landry gave to his daughters, and to the terrible "ensaumples" 
 which he held up to them for their consideration and avoidance: 
   
 "Alas!" he exclaims, "whi take women non hede of the gret love that God 
 hathe yeve hem to make hem after hys figure? and whi popithe they, and 
 paintithe, and pluckithe her visage otherwise than God hath ordeined 
 hem?" Why indeed! There was once a lady who died and suffered great 
 tortures in hell, the devil holding her "bi the tresses of the here of 
 her hede, like as a lyon holdithe his praie...." and the same "develle 
 putte and thruste in her browes, temples, and forehede hote brenninge 
 alles and nedeles"; and why was she subjected to all this torment? 
 _Because she had "plucked her browes, front and forehed, to have awey 
 the here, to make her selff the fayrer to the plesinge of the worlde._" 
   
 It is a very far cry from the good Knight of La Tour Landry to the 
 wicked Mr. Punch of Fleet Street, who satirises the variations in the 
 form of the short side whisker still beloved of butlers and ostlers, 
 and which, in the early days of the Volunteer movement of the 
 beginning of the sixties, became identified with particular regiments 
 or companies:-- 
   
 "HAIRDRESSER: South Middlesex or Keveens, sir? (_Customer 
 looks bewildered._) Why, sir, many corpses, sir, 'as a rekignised 
 style of 'air, sir, accordin' to the Reg---- (_Customer storms._) Not 
 a wolunteer, sir?--Jus' so, sir. Thought not, sir; leastways I was 
 a-wonderin' to myself d'rectly I see you, what corpse you could a 
 belonged to, sir." 
   
 
 
 
 FOOTNOTES Pg 10 
 [23] William of Malmesbury. 
   
 [24] 2 Sam. xiv. 25, 26. 
   
 [25] "Phisicke is good, and yet I would wish that every ignorant doult, 
 and especially women, that have as much knowledge in phisick or surgery 
 as hath jackeanapes, being but smatterers in the same noble sciences, 
 should be restrained from the publike use therof" unless they do it 
 _gratis_ (Stubbes, "Anatomy of Abuses," 1583). 
   
 [26] The fillet which encircles the barber's pole indicates the ribbon 
 used for bandaging the arm in bleeding, and the basin the vessel to 
 receive the blood. 
   
 [27] "He speaks like a lady for all the world, and never swears, as 
 Mr. Flash does, but wears nice white gloves, and tells me what ribands 
 become my complexion, where to stick my patches, who is the best 
 milliner, where they sell the best tea, and which is the best wash for 
 the face and the best paste for the hands; he is always playing with my 
 fan, and showing his teeth; and when ever I speak, he pats me--so--and 
 cries, 'The devil take me, Miss Biddy, but you'll be my perdition--ha, 
 ha, ha!'" (David Garrick, "Miss in Her Teens," 1747). 
   
 
 
 
 X (BOOTS, SHOES, AND OTHER COVERINGS FOR THE FEET) 
 The good St. Crispin, of blessed memory, cobbling shoes for the poor by 
 the light of his candle and filling up the interval with preaching, is 
 a figure which all shoemakers regard with reverence. How did Crispin 
 become the tutelary saint of shoemakers? Well, it was in this wise. 
 Crispin, travelling with his brother Crispinian, in company with 
 St. Denis, to Soissons in France to propagate the Christian faith, 
 towards the close of the third century, in order that he might not be 
 a burden to others for his maintenance, exercised at night the trade 
 of shoemaker, preaching the Gospel by day. The shoes were sold at a 
 low price to the poor, an angel (so the legend recounts) miraculously 
 furnishing the leather. According to another version of the legend, 
 the saint _stole_ the leather, so as to enable him to benefit the poor. 
 Crispin's efforts, like those of so many other benefactors of their 
 kind, were poorly rewarded. He was ordered to be beheaded, and suffered 
 martyrdom in 287 A.D., not, however, for his shoemaking, or 
 for his thefts, but on account of his religious tenets. Some accounts 
 state that he and his brother were flung into a cauldron of molten lead. 
   
 [Illustration: CLOG, OR PATTEN. 
   
 FIFTEENTH CENTURY.] 
   
 The brotherhood of the shoemakers has always included men of remarkable 
 character and parts. Hans Sachs, born at Nuremburg in 1494, the most 
 eminent German poet of his time; George Fox, first of Quakers, true 
 follower of Crispin, dividing his time and energies between shoemaking 
 and preaching; William Gifford, less remembered perhaps as a shoemaker 
 than for his editorship of the famous _Quarterly_--these are a few 
 only of the men "who have imparted a glory to the 'gentle craft,' as 
 shoemaking has been called since the days of the illustrious Crispin," 
 and invested it with distinction.[28] 
   
 The universal observance by Eastern nations of the custom of removing 
 the shoes as a mark of reverence is in obedience to the command given 
 to Moses from the burning bush at Horeb: "Put off thy shoes from off 
 thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground." The 
 Western practice of uncovering the reverse end of the human anatomy 
 presents a curious and somewhat startling contrast. 
   
 Footgear began as a protection to the _soles_ of the feet, since it 
 is the soles which necessarily demand some sort of protection until 
 that time when the "rough places shall be made plain," although Nature 
 provides her own protection to the soles of feet which are habitually 
 bare, by thickening the skin. The skin of the habitually barefooted 
 Irish lassie varies, we are told, from a quarter to half an inch in 
 thickness, and even more. 
   
 The sandal, then, may be considered as the precursor of the shoe. 
 Most of the early nations wore sandals. The Egyptians, however, were 
 usually barefooted, with the exception of the priests, who wore shoes 
 of _byblus_, and were not permitted to wear any other. The Greek sandal 
 consisted of a strip of thick hide, tanned or untanned, for the sole, 
 with a thinner piece, assuming some ornamental form, upon the instep, 
 the whole connected or drawn together with straps drawn crosswise over 
 the instep and round the ankle, or a cord or thong passing between the 
 great toe and the first of the smaller toes. 
   
 Sandals were worn either with bare feet or with stockings or hose, 
 in which case a division of the stocking would be necessary between 
 the great and little toes. Some modern hygienic reformers have, 
 indeed, recommended toed stockings for present use, _i.e._, stockings 
 provided with a separate receptacle for each toe, like the fingers 
 of a glove, to be worn even with the modern shoe or boot, on the 
 ground of healthiness, and this would seem to be reasonable, since the 
 objectionable condition of the skin between the toes, which no amount 
 of cleanliness and care can wholly avert, is due to the inability 
 of the perspiration to escape when the surfaces are in contact. 
 "The interposition in the five-toed socks of a layer of woollen or 
 other material between each toe absorbs the perspiration and rapidly 
 effects a remarkable change. The skin between the toes becomes dry and 
 wholesome, and the squeezed, crippled appearance of the toes greatly 
 alters for the better."[29] 
   
 Both the Greeks and Romans wore buskins, which reached to about the 
 middle of the calf. These were variously ornamented and laced, and were 
 usually lined with the skins of the smaller animals, the heads and 
 claws being allowed to fall over the top by way of ornament. Buskins 
 have, as a matter of fact, been worn at all periods; several examples 
 are given, notably in the portraits by Vandyke, of Lords John and 
 Bernard Stuart (p. 287). 
   
 [Illustration: ROMAN SANDALS. 
   
 _Hope's "Costume of the Ancients."_] 
   
 The footgear of the Italian peasant of the present day may be 
 considered as the most primitive form of sandal. It consists of a 
 simple oblong piece of thick leather, perforated at the sides and ends 
 to allow of straps being drawn through, crosswise over the instep 
 and round the ankle, and half way up the leg, to the knee, either in 
 circular bands or crosswise, the foot and leg being encased in a more 
 or less loose stocking or hose, in many instances the whole of the leg 
 being cross gartered. 
   
 [Illustration: SANDALS OF THE ITALIAN PEASANTRY.] 
   
 The early Britons wore a shoe which was almost as simple in 
 construction as the last mentioned. It consisted of a piece of raw 
 cowhide, with a leather thong fastened at the heel, threaded along the 
 upper edge, drawing the shoe like a purse over the foot. This form of 
 shoe, however, was not confined to the early Britons, but was adopted 
 by most primitive peoples at different periods; in fact, it is the 
 first and readiest method of covering the feet which would occur to the 
 primitive mind. 
   
 [Illustration: LORDS JOHN AND BERNARD STUART. 
   
 _Engraved by James Macardell._] 
   
 The Anglo-Saxon shoe was provided with long thongs of leather or other 
 material attached to the shoe at the ankles and wound crosswise round 
 the leg to the knee, or round the whole of the leg to the middle, 
 always, however, with some form of hose. This fashion obtained, more 
 or less, during the whole of the Anglo-Saxon period, and was common to 
 most of the Northern nations. 
   
 During the reign of William the Conqueror, short boots reaching above 
 the ankle, with a plain band round the tops, prevailed. Robert, Duke 
 of Normandy, eldest son of the Conqueror, who died in 1134, was called 
 "Curta Ocrea," or Short Boots, either from his setting the fashion or 
 from retaining it when abandoned by the beaux of the day. 
   
 The usual footgear of the period, however, is the close shoe, made of 
 cloth, velvet, leather, or other material, and terminating in a point. 
 From this period for more than a century onward, shoes varied very 
 little, except in the character of their ornamentation. 
   
 During the reigns of Henry II. and Richard I., a kind of loose top-boot 
 appeared. These boots resembled loose socks or galoches, drawn over the 
 hose, sometimes reaching as high as the knee, and occasionally to the 
 middle of the thigh, but more often half way up the leg only. They were 
 worn in various forms by all classes, and by the common people during 
 a long period. They had no fastenings or lacings, but were allowed to 
 fall at will, according to the stiffness or otherwise of the material 
 of which they were made. 
   
 In the miniatures of the "Facta et Dicta Memorabilia" of Valerius 
 Maximus, begun by Simon de Hesdin for Charles V. of France in 1375, 
 and completed by Nicholas de Gonesse for Jean, Duc de Berry, in 1405, 
 a number of figures have boots, made apparently of soft leather 
 and coloured either red or white, reaching to the knee; in some 
 instances the tops turned down, with long, pointed toes. This series 
 of miniatures is extremely interesting as giving an insight into the 
 domestic life of the fourteenth century, some of the interiors being 
 especially so. 
   
 During the reign of the Plantagenets, footgear, like the rest of the 
 costume of that period, was exceedingly sumptuous. The shoes were 
 usually close-fitting, with pointed toes, and ornamented with the 
 richest variety of patterning. The tops were of various materials, 
 soft leather, silk, cloth, cloth-of-gold, &c. The soles were usually 
 of thicker leather, but occasionally of wood, and even of cork. Upon 
 the opening of the tomb of Henry VI. of Sicily, the dead monarch was 
 discovered wearing shoes of which the uppers were of cloth-of-gold 
 embroidered with pearls, and the soles of cork, covered with 
 cloth-of-gold. 
   
 The reign of Richard II. was the period of abnormally long pointed 
 toes, which occasionally reached the length of six inches and more, 
 and assumed various shapes, the toes being stuffed with tow or other 
 substance to keep them in shape. 
   
 This fashion of long pointed toes lasted during the three succeeding 
 reigns. "Even boys wore doublets of silk, satin, and velvet; and almost 
 all, especially in the Courts of Princes, had points at the toes of 
 their shoes a quarter of an ell long and upwards, which they now called 
 _poulaines_." Paradin describes the men as "wearing shoes with a point 
 before, half a foot long: the richer and more eminent personages more 
 than a foot, and Princes _two feet long_, which was the most ridiculous 
 thing that ever was seen; and when men became tired of these pointed 
 shoes, they adopted others in their stead denominated duck-bills, 
 having a bill or beak before, of four or five fingers in length." 
   
 The sumptuary laws regulating these matters have been referred to in 
 the introduction to this work. The Act of 3 Edward IV. restricted the 
 length of toe to two inches. 
   
 [Illustration: FRENCH. FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 
   
 FRENCH. SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.] 
   
 Clogs and pattens were worn from the time of Richard II. onwards as a 
 protection to the soles of the shoes, and were variously shaped. Randal 
 Holme calls _pattanes_ "irons to be tied under the shoes to keep them 
 out of the dirt." In an anonymous work called the "Eulogium," cited 
 by Camden, it states: "Their shoes and pattens are snouted and piked, 
 more than a finger long, crooking upwards, which they call _crackowes_, 
 resembling devils' claws, and fastened to the knees with chains of gold 
 and silver." 
   
 [Illustration: CHILD'S SHOES, FRONT AND SIDE VIEW, GERMAN (SIXTEENTH 
 CENTURY). 
   
 MAN'S SHOE, GERMAN (SIXTEENTH CENTURY).] 
   
 This fashion of appending chains to the peaks of the shoes lasted 
 intermittently for a considerable time. In a work on "Ancient Costume," 
 by Major Hamilton Smith, a portrait of James I. of Scotland is 
 mentioned, in which the peaks of the monarch's shoes are fastened by 
 chains of gold to his girdle. 
   
 There is a manuscript in the Royal collection in which the Duke of 
 Gloucester, afterwards Richard III., is depicted as wearing a clog. 
 This has been adopted by Abbey in his famous picture of "Gloucester 
 and the Lady Anne." 
   
 Clogs were of wood, thickened at the heel and ball of the foot for the 
 purpose of raising it from the ground. Afterwards it was further raised 
 by means of two pieces set at right angles to the foot, on precisely 
 the same principle as the Japanese shoes of to-day. An illustration is 
 given from the Cluny Museum (p. 282). 
   
 Another means of raising the foot was the "chopine," which was a kind 
 of stilt; it was, in fact, the sole, elongated to an extravagant 
 degree. Hamlet thus addresses the lady players: "What! my young lady 
 and mistress! By'r-lady, your ladyship is nearer heaven than when I saw 
 you last, by the altitude of a chopine!" 
   
 Towards the close of the fifteenth century it became the fashion 
 to bend the long toe over the shoe backwards. The two examples 
 figured at the head of this chat are from the Cluny Museum, and are 
 characteristic. Both have high heels, and resemble the shoes with which 
 the Chinese ladies until quite recently tortured and mutilated their 
 feet, for the purpose, it is said, of pleasing the distorted fancy of 
 the men and to be qualified for marriage.[30] 
   
 [Illustration: SHOES OF THE SIXTEENTH AND SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES. 
   
 _Musée de Cluny._] 
   
 A number of examples of shoes of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and 
 seventeenth centuries are given from the interesting collection in 
 the Musée de Cluny, and will serve, far better than any written 
 description, to give an idea of the character of the footgear of these 
 periods. The two child's shoes given on p. 291 are of leather, and 
 are typical of the shoe worn during the greater part of the fifteenth 
 century. The side view shows the point turned upwards. The man's shoe 
 is short-toed, richly worked in stamped leather. The ladies' shoes of 
 the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries given on p. 293 are of various 
 materials, and for the most part richly embroidered; two of the three 
 lower ones show the clog of leather which was fixed from the heel to 
 the toe, the centre one of the three having a sharp pointed heel and 
 a rounded sole, surely a most uncomfortable thing to wear. Sir Thomas 
 Parkins ("Treatise on Wrestling," 1714) says: "For shame, let us 
 leave off aiming at the outdoing our Maker in our true symmetry and 
 proportion; let us likewise, for our own ease, secure treading and 
 upright walking, as He designed we should, and shorten our heels." 
   
 [Illustration: CARVED WOODEN SHOE, FRENCH (SEVENTEENTH CENTURY).] 
   
 During the reign of the Tudors the character of the shoe suddenly 
 changed from the long pointed toe to the broad-toed shoe, made either 
 of various cloths, kid, or velvet, slashed and puffed with silk, 
 an example of which will be seen in Holbein's picture of the "Two 
 Ambassadors." The shoes of this period afford a minimum of protection 
 to the feet, the whole of the instep being uncovered. It was again 
 found necessary for legislation to step in--this time, however, to 
 restrict their _breadth_, instead of the length of the toes, as 
 heretofore. 
   
 Bulwer's "Pedigree of the English Gallant" says: "In the reign of 
 Queen Mary, the people in general had laid aside the long points they 
 formerly wore at the end of their shoes, and caused them to be made 
 square at the toes, with so much addition to the breadth, that their 
 feet exhibited a much more preposterous appearance than they had done 
 in the former instance; therefore," says the author, "a proclamation 
 was made, that no man should wear his shoes above six inches square at 
 the toes." He then tells us that "picked shoes soon after came again in 
 vogue, but they did not, I presume, continue any great time in use." 
   
 In the figure of the exquisite of 1670, after Mitelli (p. 129), the 
 squareness of the toes is emphasised, the two corners even projecting 
 from the flat edge. There are small bunches of ribbons at the toes, an 
 abnormally large stiffened bow at the instep, and, by way of "piling 
 Pelion upon Ossa," the bend of the stiffened bows is supplemented by 
 smaller bows, representing the very acme of whimsical extravagance. 
   
 Usually these bows or ribbons were allowed to fall loose, in which 
 case, however, they never reached such extravagant proportions as in 
 the before-mentioned instance. A square-toed shoe of a Dutch officer 
 of the Guards, 1662, is given, having a loose bow, also a shoe of a 
 musketeer with a small buckle on the instep and a large tongue or flap 
 in front. 
   
 [Illustration: DUTCH OFFICER OF GUARDS, 1662.] 
   
 Buckles have been worn from quite an early period, an example of a 
 circular buckle occurring on a brass of 1376. They formed the usual 
 fastening of the shoe during the Commonwealth, and were worn until 
 the close of the eighteenth century, when they fell into disuse. The 
 buckle-makers of 1800, alarmed at their declining trade, petitioned the 
 Prince of Wales to discard his new strings and adopt the buckle, but, 
 although the Prince complied with the wishes of the petition, it was of 
 no avail. 
   
 Buckles were often richly jewelled, and consequently very costly. Those 
 worn by the Hon. John Spencer on the occasion of his marriage were said 
 to be worth £30,000. 
   
 [Illustration: MOUSQUETAIRE, 1697.] 
   
 In the anonymous portrait of Prince Henry, eldest son of James I. (p. 
 103), the shoes are of leather, slashed, showing the coloured stocking 
 underneath, and otherwise ornamented, with the strap drawn over the 
 instep, covered by a jewelled rosette, or "shoe-rose." These shoe-roses 
 had a great vogue during the time of Elizabeth; they were usually 
 of bunches of ribbons made to form a rose, and were occasionally 
 ornamented with costly jewels. 
   
    "With two Provencal roses on my razed shoes." 
   
            _Hamlet_, Act III, sc. 2. 
   
 In "Hæc-Vir, or the Womanish Man," 1621, is described a fashionable 
 man, who "takes a full survey of himself, from the highest sprig in his 
 feather to the lowest spangle that shines in his shoe-string." 
   
 We now come to the period of high-topped boots, which continued with 
 variations to the time of George II. In the portrait of Charles I. by 
 Daniel Mytens in the National Portrait Gallery will be seen an example 
 of the earlier form of top-boot. The tops fit close, and are turned 
 down at the knee, and the edges again turned up half-way down the calf 
 of the leg. A large flap with double edges protects the instep. 
   
 [Illustration: LOUIS XIII., 1611.] 
   
 The form of top-boots was developed in various ways, until it reached 
 an extravagant pitch in France in the reign of Louis XIV. The 
 variations were mainly in the shape or adjustment of the tops, rather 
 than in that portion of the boot which covered the foot. They were worn 
 by the dandies with a profusion of costly lace. Several examples are 
 given. 
   
 This was the period of the highest, or rather widest, development of 
 the tops of the boots; so wide, indeed, did they become, that the gait 
 of a man might be described as straddling rather than walking. 
   
 An example is given of a boot worn by the Comte de Soissons, 1628, 
 which has a stiff rounded top like a basin, with a short hose worn over 
 the hose proper, turned down below the knee and edged with rich lace. 
   
 A variation of the top-boot worn from the time of Elizabeth onwards is 
 a kind of soft leather hose or buskin drawn up to the middle of the 
 thigh, the edge folded over and slashed; these were worn during the 
 slashed period, when everything was slashed--hat, sleeves, doublet, and 
 tunic (p. 297). 
   
 [Illustration: COMTE DE SOISSONS, 1628.] 
   
 The "Wellington" boot of the present day is practically identical with 
 that worn by the illustrious soldier from whom it takes its name, and 
 is a very slight variation of the form of riding boot which was in use 
 at the beginning of the eighteenth century, except that it is of softer 
 leather, allowing the boot to fall into folds at the ankle. The boot 
 in the portrait of Napoleon by Isabey, in the Musée de Versailles, may 
 be described as a sort of half Wellington, but the top-boot which is 
 usually associated with Napoleon is cut away at its upper edge at the 
 back, the front forming a kind of mask to the knee, a form of boot 
 which, in fact, had been worn from the time of William III. 
   
 [Illustration: BRAVOES. 
   
 _Martin Schongauer._] 
   
 Cloth and woollen boots and shoes, as were worn in the Middle Ages, 
 have been recommended for _modern_ wear as being more healthy, and as 
 allowing the natural perspiration of the foot to exhale, their sponsors 
 affirming that "cloth and wool are perfectly suitable and safe for wet 
 weather, as the wetting of the wool does not chill the feet, the heat 
 of which promptly evaporates the moisture from the covering, which soon 
 dries." It must, however, be admitted that with a cloth covering, the 
 dirt and mud of a London winter would be a trial, and here, doubtless, 
 we have a reason for the cobblestones of mediæval towns. Cobble-stones 
 are clean, but must at once be ruled out of the question for London. 
 Cobble-stones would indeed add a fresh horror to London life. But is it 
 too much to expect the richest city in the world, with its thousands of 
 unemployed, to keep its streets clean? Is there any reason why large 
 cities should not be kept clean as well as small cities? 
   
 "Boots and shoes should be roomy, to prevent the toes from being 
 squeezed together, and should be so made that the great toe is not 
 pressed against its neighbours, but is encouraged to lie in a straight 
 line drawn from the heel to the root of the great toe. The heel of the 
 boot should be low and broad."[31] 
   
 The Greek ideal of the foot is the true one. The Greeks rightly 
 regarded the foot as an undeveloped hand, and they endeavoured in their 
 sculpture to impart that hand-like character to their feet. One has 
 only to notice the flexible toes of new-born and young babies, in order 
 to perceive the reasonableness of this position. The Greeks in their 
 sculpture made a distinct division between the great toe and the rest 
 of the toes, as between the thumb and the fingers of the hand--the 
 three toes well forward in a bunch; the first the longest, the next a 
 little shorter, and the third shorter still; the little toe by itself, 
 raised up. Now compare with this any natural foot habituated to shoes 
 or boots. The bunch of three toes is pressed back, and also sideways 
 against the great toe, thus losing the division between them and the 
 great toe, and destroying the true contour of the foot. The pads of 
 all the toes are pressed sideways instead of being immediately under 
 the nails, and the foot has entirely lost its original character, 
 and has become grotesquely malformed by corns, bunions, and similar 
 growths. The most beautiful natural foot, the _only_ beautiful foot 
 which we ever remember having seen, was a cast in Sir Edgar Boehm's 
 studio of the foot of a black woman who had never worn shoes. 
   
 Of late there has been a disposition to return to the sandal as a 
 covering or rather protection for children's feet (one fears that it 
 will be long before grown-ups adopt the sandal, except perhaps at the 
 seaside or in the country). The change is a healthy one from every 
 point of view. Upon æsthetic grounds it is especially welcome. One 
 walks along the street during the summer months, the mind perhaps 
 preoccupied, and the eye suddenly lights upon the rosy feet of one of 
 these little ones as they trip along the street. One involuntarily 
 exclaims, "What a charming design! What a beautiful piece of ornament!" 
 Of a truth, in place of the uninteresting product of the shoemaker, 
 which we had become so inured and accustomed to, one is suddenly 
 introduced to that masterpiece of the Great Designer, the human foot, 
 and the foot, too, in its natural state, before it has become crippled 
 and distorted by long confinement in a leather prison. 
   
 
 
 
 FOOTNOTES Pg 11 
 [28] Thomas Deloney's "booke called the Gentle Crafte, intreating of 
 Showmakers," tells how Crispin and Crispianus, sons of King Logrid 
 of Britain and of Queen Estreda, were sheltered at Faversham, Kent. 
 Crispin wooed and married Princess Ursula, whose son was born in the 
 shoemaker's house. Hence the saying, "A shoemaker's son is born a 
 Prince." From their high lineage, shoemaking is named "The Gentle 
 Craft." 
   
    "I am of Crispin's trade, a brave Shooemaker, 
    He loved a Princess dear, and ne'r forsak't her.... 
    This craft was never held in scorn, Sir Thomas Eyer did it adorn, 
    A Shoemaker's son a Prince is born." 
   
            _Roxburghe Ballads._ 
   
 [29] "Health Culture," G. Jaeger, M.D. 
   
 [30] A movement, headed by the Empress, has been instituted recently 
 for the abolition of the practice of mutilating the feet of Chinese 
 women, which was universal throughout all classes of society. In the 
 cities, ladies were carried through the streets pick-a-back, and moved 
 about their houses on their knees. In the fields the women worked on 
 their knees, being unable to stand. 
   
 [31] "Health Culture," G. Jaeger, M.D. 
   
 
 
 
 INDEX Pg 12 
 Addison, scantiness of dress, 141 
   
 Angelico, Fra, painting by, at Florence, 101 
   
 Anglo-Saxon super-tunic, 76; 
 embroidery, 76; 
 Chronicle, treasures of King Malcolm of Scotland, 100 
   
   
 Barbers, introduction of in Rome, 239; 
 charter granted by Henry VIII., 247 
   
 Barber-Surgeons, 247-249 
   
 Beard, formality of Assyrian and Greek, 237; 
 dyeing and powdering, 238; 
 ceremonies and customs relating to, 238; 
 Peter Lombard's dislike of, 245; 
 edict by Henry I. for suppression of, 245; 
 various shapes of, 246; 
 vow of Henry VIII. relating to, 246 
   
 
 
 
 INDEX Pg 13 
 Beaumont and Fletcher, quotation from, 140 
   
 Bloet, Robert, Bishop of Lincoln, mantle presented by to Henry I., 90 
   
 Boadicea, tunic of, 68 
   
 Bodice, rigidity of, 144 
   
 Boots, shoes, and other foot coverings, 281-301 
   
 ---- short, 288; 
 top, 288, 297, 298; 
 Wellington, 298 
   
 Buckles, 296 
   
 Buskins, 284-286 
   
 Byzantine women, dress of, 72 
   
   
 Calash, introduction of, 230 
   
 Cap, flat, of Tudor period, 218-220; 
 fool's, 209 
   
 Carlyle, T., 18, 26, 110 
   
 Charlemagne, dress of, 68; 
 letter to King John of Gascogny, 89; 
 mantle of, 90 
   
 Charles I., costume of, 126 
   
 Chaucer, quotations from, 52, 46, 78, 82, 98, 118, 242, 275 
   
 Chopine, 292 
   
 Chlamys, 85 
   
 Cloak, Spanish, 102; 
 Puritan, 102 
   
 Clothes, index as to character, 22; 
 climatic influence on, 22; 
 uses of, 20; 
 their symbolism, 26 
   
 Coif-caps, 258 
   
 Collar, Gurth's, 181 
   
 Collars and cuffs, 181-201 
   
 Cotton MS. caricature of winged devil, 42 
   
 "Couleur Isabella," 188 
   
 
 
 
 INDEX Pg 14 
 Coverley, Sir Roger de, remarks on hooped petticoat, 164 
   
 Cravat, origin of, 182; 
 general use of, 195; 
 art of tying the, 195-201 
   
 Crestine or net-caul, 211 
   
 Crinoletta, 160; 
 "disfigurans," 177; 
 echo of earlier prototype, 178 
   
 Crinoline, rise and fall of, 159-178; 
 invention of, 162 
   
 Crispin, St., 281 
   
 Cross gartering, 114, 286 
   
 Cut-purse, 78 
   
   
 Dickens, quotation from "Pickwick," 280 
   
 Doublet and hose, 111-132 
   
 Dowglas, monk of Glastonbury, extravagances of dress of reign 
        of Edward III., 37 
   
 Dress: 
 should be one of the decorative arts, 53; 
 conditions of beautiful, 106; 
 floral patternings of, 146; 
 modes of, 1773, 148; 
 fashionable, 1782, 149 
   
   
 Elizabeth, Queen, short cloak, 101 
   
 Embroidery, a conspicuous element in Anglo-Saxon dress, 76 
   
 Empire gown, 152 
   
   
 Fabrics: 
 cloth of gold, 43; 
 silk, 44; 
 ciclatoun, cendal, taffetas, sarcenet, 46; 
 patternings of, 48; 
 satin, 46; 
 velvet, 46; 
 Sicilian brocades, 49-51 
   
 Farthingale, 162; 
 great wheel, 164 
   
 
 
 
 INDEX Pg 15 
 Fashion, genuine woman of, 153 
   
 French Revolution, influence on dress, 150; 
 disappearance of three-cornered hat, 227 
   
 Froissart, Harleian Library, caricature of pig walking upon stilts, 42 
   
   
 Garter, mantle of, 52, 94; 
 vestments of, 94; 
 jewel of, 95; 
 embroiderings of, 94; 
 as at present worn, 96 
   
 General survey, 19-57 
   
 Girdle, various kinds of, 77; 
 of Charlemagne, 77; 
 imperial girdle of Holy Roman Empire, 77; 
 of Henry VI., 77; 
 in brasses, 78 
   
 Gosson, Stephen, "Schoole of Abuse," 36 
   
 Gozzoli, Benozzo, frescoes at Pisa, 101 
   
 Greeks, costumes of modern, 78 
   
 Gresham, Sir Thomas, gift of silk stockings to Edward VI., 120 
   
   
 Hair, moustachios, and beard, 237-277 
   
 ---- length of, privilege of Kings and Princes of the Franks, 240; 
 condemnation of by the priesthood, 240 
   
 Harold, King, banner under which he fought at Hastings, 52 
   
 Hat, chimney-pot, 25, 57, 205, 220, 222-224; 
 development of, 222-224; 
 centenary of modern, 222; 
 Greek broad-brimmed, 210; 
 cocked, 130; 
 Kevenhuller, 132, 227; 
 slouch, Stuart period, 226; 
 panama, 232; 
 bowler, 232 
   
 Hats, caps, and bonnets, 205-233 
   
 Headcoverings not a necessity, 205 
   
 Head-dresses, extravagances of, 260-271; 
 horned, 36, 41, 213-215; 
 heart-shaped, 215; 
 steeple, 215 
   
 
 
 
 INDEX Pg 16 
 Hennin, 216 
   
 Hood, Roman hooded cloak, 208; 
 variations of, 209 
   
 Hooped petticoat, 159-175; 
 inconveniences of, 170; 
 disappearance of, 170 
   
 Hose, tight-fitting, 114; 
 parti-coloured, 115; 
 Gallic, 120; 
 silk, 120; 
 Venetian, 120 
   
   
 Illuminated MSS., colouring of, 73 
   
   
 Jerkin, 117 
   
 Jewels, worn in hats, 224 
   
 Jonson, Ben, quotations from "Silent Woman," 38, 236, 268; 
 "Every Man out of his Humour," 122 
   
   
 Kirtle or petticoat, the, 135-156 
   
 Kirtle "Romaunt of the Rose," 73-136; 
 a development tunic, 135 
   
   
 La Tour Landry, Knight of, St. Bernard's admonition of his sister, 36; 
 extravagance in dress, 41; 
 horned head-dresses, 214; 
 painted faces, 276 
   
 Lorenzo, Fiorenzo di, paintings by, 99, 100, 113 
   
 Love locks, 250 
   
 Lydgate, monk of Bury, satires, 41 
   
 Lyly's "Euphues," 1580, fable of wind and sun, 22 
   
   
 Macaronies, 260 
   
 Malay Peninsula, clothing of aborigines, 20 
   
 Mantle, the, 83-106; 
 of Elijah, 83; 
 St. Martin, 84; 
 Raleigh, 84; 
 Archdruid's, 88; 
 coronation mantle of Holy Roman Empire, 88; 
   
 
 
 
 INDEX Pg 17 
 Frankish, 89; 
 colour of Charlemagne's, 90; 
 Edward the Confessor's, 90; 
 Norman period, 90; 
 Queen Matilda's, 91; 
 of the Order of the Garter, 94 
   
 Mary, Queen, description of portrait of, 138 
   
 Merry Monarch, beauties of the Court of, 141 
   
 Merveilleuses, 150 
   
 Moustachios, Charles I., third Empire, a reigning monarch, 272 
   
 Muffs, 104 
   
   
 Nazarite law, 240-244 
   
   
 Ondina or waved Jupons, advertisement in _Illustrated London News_, 1863, 175 
   
 Otaheite, festal dress, 166 
   
   
 Painted faces, 250-252 
   
 Paris, Matthew, description of marriage of Alexander III. of Scotland, 96 
   
 Pattens, 290-292 
   
 Pegtops, 54; 
 Dundreary's, 275 
   
 Peplum of the Greeks, 85, 88 
   
 Pepys, references to dress, 102-104, 142-144, 255 
   
 Periwig, first appearance of in history, 255; 
 proportions of, during the reign of Charles II., 255 
   
 Petticoat breeches, 128-130 
   
 ---- inflation, era of, 138 
   
 Picadil, 189-192 
   
 Piccadilly, 190; 
 fringe, 275 
   
 Piers Plowman, description of Meed (Bribery), 212 
   
 Pilche, 98-100 
   
 Pole, Edmund de la, letter to, 46 
   
 
 
 
 INDEX Pg 18 
 Pot-hat, examples of in past art, 25 
   
 Puffing, 117 
   
 Punch, Mr., fragments of a love-song, 74; 
 satire of crinoline, 172-176; 
 crinoletta, 176; 
 short side-whiskers, 276; 
 warning to ladies riding in crinolines, 170 
   
   
 "Roman de la Rose," satire on dress, 38; 
 dress of Mirth, 53; 
 horned head-dresses, 213 
   
 Roxburghe ballads, 40, 252, 255, 283 
   
 Ruff, invention of, 183; 
 extravagances of, 187; 
 various kinds of, 192; 
 disappearance of, 194 
   
 Ruffle, 183-184 
   
   
 St. Bernard, admonition of his sister, 36 
   
 Salisbury, Lord, remarks on modern costume, 56 
   
 Sandal, Greek, 283; 
 of Italian peasantry, 286; 
 modern, 301 
   
 Shoe roses, 296 
   
 Shoes, early British, 286; 
 Anglo-Saxon, 288; 
 pointed toed, 289-291; 
 broad toed, 294-296 
   
 Slashings, 117-118 
   
 Sleeves, serrated, 72; 
 development of, 112-113; 
 tight, 112; 
 cut work of, 112; 
 "pokys," 112 
   
 "Spencer" jacket, 137 
   
 Starching, 184 
   
 Stow, reference to ruffs, 187 
   
 Strutt, 73 
   
 Stubbes, "Anatomy of Abuses," feminine habit of aping masculine dress, 42; 
   
 
 
 
 INDEX Pg 19 
 peascod bellied doublets, 124; 
 ruffs, 180, 186, 188; 
 praise of barbers, 250; 
 moustachios, 272 
   
 Sumptuary laws, principal Acts, 28-36, 290 
   
 Surcoat, Anglo-Saxon period, 76; 
 thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, 74 
   
   
 _Tailor and Cutter_, hints of impending changes in men's attire, 56 
   
 Tailors, Latin song upon the, 92 
   
 "Tale of Beryn," the, quotation from, 89 
   
 Toga, plan of, 86; 
 dimensions of, 88 
   
 Trouser stretcher, 56 
   
 Trousers, their antiquity, 25; 
 the apparent eternity of, 54; 
 development of, 54; 
 inconveniences of, 56; 
 Frankish, 69; 
 Norman, 114 
   
 Trunk hose, bombasting of, 118, 122; 
 of period of James I., 126 
   
 Tudor period, magnificence of dress of, 140 
   
 Tunic, the, 61-80; 
 primitive form of, 61; 
 Egyptian, 63; 
 Greek, 64; 
 child's tunic, Egyptian, 64; 
 plan of, 66; 
 super-tunic, 66; 
 Lacedemonian girls', 67; 
 Charlemagne's, 69; 
 military, 77 
   
 Turban, 209 
   
   
 Uses of clothing, the, 20-24 
   
   
 Veddas of Ceylon, 20 
   
   
 Weaving, silk, in France and England, 52 
   
 Whisk, 188-189 
   
 
 
 
 INDEX Pg 20 
 Whiskers, Dundreary and mutton chop, 274; 
 short side, 276 
   
 Wigs, Egyptian, 254; 
 first appearance in England, 255; 
 cost of when first worn, 256; 
 different shapes of, 256; 
 Lord Ellenborough's, 258 
   
 William III., long-skirted coats, 104 
   
 Wimple, 183, 211  
 
 
 Publication Date: March 6th 2015 https://www.bookrix.com/-mk496e398f1e345