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:
[11] Embroidery.
[12] Fairholt, "Costume in England."
V
THE
KIRTLE
OR PETTICOAT
"_Falstaff._ What trade art thou, Feeble?
"_Feeble._ A woman's tailor, sir.
"_Shallow._ Shall I prick him, sir?
"_Falstaff._ You may; but if he had been a man's tailor he would
have pricked you--Wilt thou make as many holes in an enemy's
battle, as thou hast done in a woman's petticoat?
"_Feeble._ I will do my good will, sir; you can have no more.
"_Falstaff._ Well said, good woman's tailor! well said, courageous
Feeble! Thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove, or most
magnanimous mouse--Prick the woman's tailor well, Master Shallow;
deep, Master Shallow."
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,
1810. 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."
[Illustration: PARIS EVENING DRESS, 1833.]
FOOTNOTES:
[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
"For I will goe frocked and in a French hood,
I will have my fine cassockes and my round verdingale."
_Booke of Robin Conscience._
[Illustration: THE CRINOLINE.
_From Jacquemin._]
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.