of the Earl of Albemarle wearing one. In the picture of the House of
Commons in the time of Sir Robert Walpole we get an excellent indication
of how popular the periwig was amongst the lawmakers of the land.
Farquhar, in a comedy called "Love and a Bottle," brought out in 1698,
says, "A full wig is imagined to be as infallible a token of wit as the
laurel."
Tillotson is usually regarded as the first amongst the English clergy to
adopt the wig. He said in one of his sermons: "I can remember since the
wearing of hair below the ears was looked upon as a sin of the first
magnitude, and when ministers generally, whatever their text was, did
either find or make occasion to reprove the great sin of long hair; and
if they saw any one in the congregation guilty in that kind, they would
point him out particularly, and let fly at him with great zeal." Dr
Tillotson died on November 24th, 1694. Wigs found favour with parsons,
and in course of time they appear to have been indispensable. A volume,
in 1765, was issued under the title of "Free Advice to a Young
Clergyman," from the pen of the Rev. John Chubbe, in which he
recommended the young preacher always to wear a full wig until age had
made his own hair respectable. Dr Randolph, on his advancement to the
bishopric, presumed to wait upon George IV. to kiss hands without
wearing a wig. This could not be overlooked by the king, and he said,
"My lord, you must have a wig." Bishops wore wigs until the days of
William IV. Bishop Blomfield is said to have been the first bishop to
set the example of wearing his own hair. Even as late as 1858, at the
marriage of the Princess Royal of England, Archbishop Sumner appeared in
his wig.
Medical men kept up the custom of wearing wigs for a long period:
perhaps they felt like a character in Fielding's farce, "The Mock
Doctor," who exclaims, "I must have a physician's habit, for a physician
can no more prescribe without a full wig than without a fee." The wig
known as the full-bottomed wig was worn by the medical profession:--
"Physic of old her entry made
Beneath the immense, full-bottom'd shade;
While the gilt cane, with solemn pride
To each suspicious nose applied,
Seemed but a necessary prop
To bear the weight of wig at top."
We are told Dr Delmahoy's wig was particularly celebrated in a song
which commenced:--
"If you would see a noble wig,
And in that wig a man look big,
To Ludgate Hill repair, my boy,
And gaze on Dr Delmahoy."
In the middle of the last century so much importance was attached to
this portion of a medical man's costume, that Dr Brocklesby's barber was
in the habit of carrying a bandbox through the High Change, exclaiming:
"Make way for Dr Brocklesby's wig!"
Professional wigs are now confined to the Speaker in the House of
Commons, who, when in the chair, wears a full-bottomed one, and to
judges and barristers. Such wigs are made of horse-hair, cleaned and
curled with care, and woven on silk threads, and shaped to fit the head
with exactness. The cost of a barrister's wig of frizzed hair is from
five to six guineas.
An eminent counsel in years agone wished to make a motion before Judge
Cockburn, and in his hurry appeared without a wig. "I hear your voice,"
sternly said his Lordship, "but I cannot see you." The barrister had to
obtain the loan of a wig from a learned friend before the judge would
listen to him.
Lord Eldon suffered much from headache, and when he was raised to the
peerage he petitioned the king to allow him to dispense with the wig. He
was refused, his Majesty saying he could not permit such an innovation.
In vain did his lordship show that the wig was an innovation, as the old
judges did not wear them. "True," said the king; "the old judges wore
beards."
In more recent times we have particulars of several instances of both
bench and bar discarding the use of the wig. At the Summer Assizes at
Lancaster, in 1819, a barrister named Mr Scarlett hurried into court,
and was permitted to take part in a trial without his wig and gown. Next
day the whole of the members of the bar appeared without their
professional badges, but only on this occasion, although on the previous
day a hope had been expressed that the time was not far distant when the
mummeries of costume would be entirely discarded.
We learn from a report in the _Times_ of July 24th, 1868, that on
account of the unprecedented heat of the weather on the day before, in
the Court of Probate and Divorce the learned judge and bar appeared
without wigs.
On July 22nd, 1873, it is recorded that Dr Kenealy rose to open the case
for the defence in the Tichborne suit; he sought and obtained permission
to remove his wig on account of the excessive heat.
Towards the close of the eighteenth century few were the young men at
the Universities who ventured to wear their own hair, and such as did
were designated Apollos. Women, as well as men, called into requisition,
to add to their charms, artificial accessories in the form of wigs and
curls. Ladies' hair was curled and frizzed with considerable care, and
frequently false curls were worn under the name of heart-breakers. It
will be seen from the illustration we give that these curls increased
the beauty of a pretty face.
Queen Elizabeth, we gather from Hentzner and other authorities, wore
false hair. We are told that ladies, in compliment to her, dyed their
hair a sandy hue, the natural colour of the queen's locks.
[Illustration: Heart-Breakers.]
It is recorded that Mary Queen of Scots obtained wigs from Edinburgh not
merely while in Scotland, but during her long and weary captivity in
England. From "The True Report of the Last Moments of Mary Stuart," it
appears that when the executioner lifted the head by the hair to show it
to the spectators, it fell from his hands owing to the hair being
false.
We have previously mentioned Pepys' allusions to women and wigs in 1666.
Coming down to later times, we read in the _Whitehall Evening Post_ of
August 17th, 1727, that when the King, George II., reviewed the Guards,
the three eldest Princesses "went to Richmond in riding habits, with
hats, and feathers, and periwigs."
[Illustration: With and Without a Wig.]
It will be seen from the picture of a person with and without a wig that
its use made a plain face presentable. There is a good election story of
Daniel O'Connell. It is related during a fierce debate on the hustings,
O'Connell with his biting witty tongue, attacked his opponent on account
of his ill-favoured countenance. But, not to be outdone, and thinking
to turn the gathering against O'Connell, his adversary called out, "Take
off your wig, and I'll warrant that you'll prove the uglier." The witty
Irishman immediately responded, amidst roars of laughter from the crowd,
by snatching the wig from off his own head and exposing to view a bald
pate, destitute of a single hair. The relative question of beauty was
scarcely settled by this amusing rejoinder, but the laugh was certainly
on O'Connell's side.
An interesting tale is told of Peter the Great of Russia. In the year
1716, the famous Emperor was at Dantzig, taking part in a public
ceremony, and feeling his head somewhat cold, he stretched out his hand,
and seizing the wig from the head of the burgomaster sitting below him,
he placed it on his own regal head. The surprise of the spectators may
be better imagined than described. On the Czar returning the wig, his
attendants explained that his Majesty was in the habit of borrowing the
wig of any nobleman within reach on similar occasions. His Majesty, it
may be added, was short of hair.
Wigs were not confined to men. At the commencement of the eighteenth
century little boys attended school in wigs and cocked hats. "Had I
lived in the reign of good Queen Anne," wrote Lord Lyttelton, "my baby
face must have been adorned with a full-bottomed periwig as large as
that which bedecks the head and shoulders of Mr Justice Blackstone when
he scowls at the unhappy culprit who is arraigned before him." We learn
from Miss Agnes Strickland that "Marie Antoinette was the first person
who broke the absurd fashion of dressing infant boys as droll miniatures
of their fathers. She attired the unfortunate Dauphin in a simple blue
jacket and trousers, for which she was reviled, as if little bag-wigs
and tiny cocked-hats, and all the paraphernalia of full dress, had been
points of moral obligation. There are noblemen yet in existence," she
says, when writing her history, "who can remember, at six years old,
joining the juvenile parties given by George III. and Queen Charlotte,
dressed after the models of their fathers' court costumes, with powdered
side-curls, single-breasted coat, knee-buckles, and shoe-buckles."
It will not be without interest to give a picture of a full-bottomed
wig, and we select as an example the one worn by the great Lord
Mansfield. It was made by Mr Williams, a noted barber in his day, who
had among his patrons many famous men, including Dr Samuel Johnson, but
he prided himself most on making the full state wig for Lord Mansfield,
and the one which is represented on his imposing monument in Westminster
Abbey. After the famous lawyer had been laid to rest, the wig which is
represented on his monument was the subject of a very odd litigation,
which was fully reported in the _Times_ for 1823. An action, it is
stated, was brought by Mr Williams, a barber, against Mr Lawrence, to
recover Lord Mansfield's full state wig, which had again come into the
possession of the perruquier after the death of his lordship. The wig
had been graciously lent by the barber to one Lawrence, belonging to the
legal profession, but also an amateur actor. In this wig, we are told,
he proposed to disport himself in the character of Shylock. The
plaintiff could not get it back again, and brought the action for its
recovery. The wig had been accidentally burnt, and the judge awarded the
plaintiff the sum of £2 as a compensation for the loss of the relic.
[Illustration: Lord Mansfield.]
STEALING WIGS
[Illustration: Stealing a Wig.]
In the palmy days of wigs the price of a full-wig of an English
gentleman was from thirty to forty guineas. Street quarrels in the olden
time were by no means uncommon; care had to be exercised that wigs were
not lost. Swift says:--
"Triumphing Tories and desponding Whigs,
Forget their feuds, and join to save their wigs."
Although precautions were taken to prevent wigs being stolen, we are
told that robberies were frequently committed. Sam Rogers thus describes
a successful mode of operation: "A boy was carried covered over in a
butcher's tray by a tall man, and the wig was twisted off in a moment by
the boy. The bewildered owner looked all round for it, when an
accomplice impeded his progress under the pretence of assisting him
while the tray-bearer made off." Gay, in _Trivia_, thus writes:--
"Nor is the flaxen wig with safety worn:
High on the shoulders in a basket borne
Lurks the sly boy, whose hand, to rapine bred,
Plucks off the curling honours of thy head."
THE WIG-MAKERS' RIOT
On February 11th, 1765, a curious spectacle was witnessed in the streets
of London, and one which caused some amusement. Fashion had changed; the
peruke was no longer in favour, and only worn to a limited extent. A
large number of peruke-makers had been thrown out of employment, and
distress prevailed amongst them. The sufferers thought that help might
be obtained from George III., and a petition was accordingly drawn up
for the enforcement of gentlefolk to wear wigs for the benefit of the
wig-makers. A procession was formed, and waited upon the king at St
James's Palace. His Majesty, it is said, returned a gracious answer, but
it must have cost him considerable effort to maintain his gravity.
Besides the monarch, the unemployed had to encounter the men of the
metropolis, and we learn from a report of the period they did not fare
so well. "As the distressed men went processionally through the town,"
says the account, "it was observed that most of the wig-makers, who
wanted other people to wear them, wore no wigs themselves; and this
striking the London mob as something monstrously unfair and
inconsistent, they seized the petitioners, and cut off all their hair
per force."
Horace Walpole alludes to this ludicrous petition in one of his letters.
"Should we wonder," he writes, "if carpenters were to remonstrate that
since the Peace there is no demand for wooden legs?" The wags of the
period could not allow the opportunity to pass without attempting to
provoke more mirth out of the matter, and a petition was published
purporting to come from the body-carpenters imploring his Majesty to
wear a wooden leg, and to enjoin his servants to appear in his royal
presence with the same graceful decoration.
THE MOUSTACHE MOVEMENT
At the present time, when moustaches are general, it is difficult to
realise the opposition raised against them in this country half a
century ago. Few outside the military had the courage to follow a
fashion which has become general. In the first year of the reign of
Queen Victoria, we gather from the police court proceedings at
Marlborough Street, London, how unpopular at that period was the
moustache. The following Report is drawn from the _Times_ of September
21st, 1837: "Yesterday, a young man, 'bearded like the pard,' who said
he was a carpenter employed on the London and Birmingham Railroad,
applied to Mr Rawlinson, the sitting magistrate, for an assault warrant,
under the following ludicrous circumstances.
"Mr Rawlinson: What do you want a warrant for?
"Applicant: I'll tell your worship, and you'll say it's the most
haggrawating, and provoking thing as ever was heard on. Vell then, I
goes to my vork, as usual, this 'ere morning, ven one of my shopmates
said to me, 'Bill, you arn't shaved your hupper lip lately,' says I.
'Vy,' says he 'Cos,' I replied, 'I intends vearing mustachios to look
like a gentleman,' 'Vell, then,' says he, 'as you intends to become a
fashionable gentleman, p'raps you'll have no objection to forfeit
half-a-gallon of ale, as it's the rule here that every workman vot
sports mustachios, to have them vetted a bit.' Vell, has I refused to
have my mustachios christened, they made game of them, and said they
weren't half fledged; and, more nor all that, they hustled me about, and
stole my dinner out of the pot, and treated me shameful, and so I want
your advice respecting my mustachios.
"Mr Rawlinson: My advice is, go to the barber and have them shaved off
without loss of time.
"Applicant: Can't part with a single hair.
"Mr Rawlinson: You want to look like a grenadier, I suppose?
"Applicant: My granny-dear (God bless her dear old soul!), she never had
such a fashionable and warlike appendage in her life.
"Mr Rawlinson: What business has a carpenter with a quantity of long
hair hanging from his lip?
"Applicant: The reason vy I rears it is 'cos it's fashionable, and makes
me look like a man of some courage.
"Mr Rawlinson: Fashionable, indeed! I wish, with all my heart, that the
fashion was discontinued. Why need an Englishman make a Jew of himself?
It is disgusting to see persons strutting through the streets with
mustachios, and sometimes a fringe of hair round the face and chin,
which is dignified by the name of whiskers. As you won't take my advice,
I can't assist you.
"Applicant: Vot! not for striking me on the hupper lip?
"Mr Rawlinson: Then your moustachios must have saved you.
"Applicant: No, they didn't.
"Mr Rawlinson: How's that?
"Applicant: 'Cos the hair ain't long and thick enough; they're only
young 'uns as yet. There was no occasion to strike me.
"Mr Rawlinson: And there's no occasion for you to wear mustachios. You
may have a warrant if you like, but I think you had better not."
"The man with the mustachios then withdrew."
About 1855 the beard movement took hold of Englishmen. The Crimean War
had much to do with it, as our soldiers were permitted to forego the use
of the razor as the hair on the face protected them from the cold and
attacks of neuralgia. About this period only one civilian of position in
England had the hardihood to wear the moustache. He was Mr George
Frederick Muntz, a member of Parliament for Birmingham. He was a notable
figure in the House of Commons, and is described as manly in appearance,
with a handsome face, a huge black beard, and moustache. He died 30th
July, 1857, and is regarded as the father of the modern moustache
movement. Another early moustache member was Colonel Sibthorp, the
representative for Lincoln, who bore Mr Muntz company for some time in
the House of Commons. Daniel O'Connell wrote a biting epigram on
Colonels Sibthorp, Percival, and Verner, the first of whom was
remarkable for his length of beard, whilst the others had none:--
Three Colonels, in three distant counties born,
Lincoln, Armagh, and Sligo did adorn.
The first in matchless impudence surpass'd,
The next in bigotry, in both the last,
The force of nature could no further go,
To beard the first she shaved the other two.
It will be noticed that the foregoing is a parody on Dryden's celebrated
tribute to Milton.
[Illustration: George Frederick Muntz, M.P.]
The enlightened electors, however, did not take kindly to the bearded
politician. It is related by Dr Hedderwick, the well-known Glasgow
journalist, that at the time the moustache movement was making slow
progress, the candidate for Linlithgowshire was an officer in the
Lancers, a man of ability, family, and fashion, who wore a heavily
hirsute upper lip. He received an intimation from a leader of his party
that his moustache might prejudice him in the eyes of a rural
population. The candidate replied that he had already considered the
point, but it was the rule in his regiment that it would be cowardly to
succumb, and that he was "determined to face it out."
We have it on good authority that a Cabinet Minister, about 1855, caused
a gentleman to be told that the beard and moustache did not look well on
a man holding a civic position under the Crown. This Minister did not
then imagine that shortly men with beards and moustaches would sit by
his side as members of the Cabinet. Even a Colonial Governor about half
a century ago was not supposed to wear a moustache. Dr Hedderwick, in
his "Backward Glances" (Edinburgh, 1891), tells us that on a certain
Sunday he was rambling with his friend, Mr Charles Maclaren, the
well-known editor of the _Scotsman_, to Loch Long, when he saw some
carriages conveying a number of ladies and gentlemen to church. "Sitting
obliquely on an Irish jaunting-car," says the doctor, "was a portly
personage with a dark heavy fringe on his upper lip, and otherwise
distinguished appearance. I suggested that it might be Sir Henry
Pottinger, the celebrated diplomatist and Colonial Governor. We knew he
had returned to England, and I had heard he was visiting in Scotland on
the banks of Loch Long. 'No, no,' said Mr Maclaren, 'it's quite
impossible it can be he. A civilian of great intelligence and sense
would never wear a moustache.'" We may gather from the foregoing the
prejudice of the period against facial adornments.
From about 1855 to some years afterwards we resided at the small town of
Alfreton, Derbyshire, where, if by chance the boys saw a man with a
moustache, with one accord they commenced calling after him, "Jew, Jew,
Jew," or "Frenchy, Frenchy, Frenchy," and, if that did not make any
impression, they commenced stoning the offender against the unwritten
laws of the land. In later years our barber at Wakefield was somewhat of
a dandy, and would, perhaps, have preferred being called a tonsorial
artist. He was the first to cultivate a moustache in that West Riding
town, and he told the writer with pride that in those distant days he
was one of the sights of the place, but his vanity had many checks from
the rough lads, and even men, of Wakefield. Before his death he saw many
follow his lead.
A teacher of music was the first to wear a moustache in Nottingham. He
attracted the attention of young and old, and was deemed a great
curiosity. The younger generation made matters lively for the music
master. Speaking on this theme to an old Nottinghamshire friend, with
whom we often discuss olden days and ways, he stated to us how he won
his wife because he had not a moustache. It appears another eligible
young man was anxious to win the young lady, but his character was
regarded as doubtful because he cultivated a moustache. After a short
engagement our friend was married in the year 1855. At this period the
moustache movement was making slow progress in Nottingham.
Mr W.P. Frith, R.A., published in 1887 an amusing "Autobiography," and
devotes not the least attractive chapter of his work to "The Bearded
Model." He relates how difficult it was to find a bearded model, and how
at last he discovered one. He says that in crossing Soho Square one day
his attention was drawn to a crowd of little boys, who seemed to be
teasing an old man in the manner of the London street boy. "Why don't
you get your 'air cut?" said one. "Yah! where's your bundle of old
clothes? Yer ain't got 'em in that 'ere basket, 'ave you?" said another,
"Let's 'ave a look. You're a Jew, you know; now, ain't you?" and so on.
All this, observes the artist, because the old man wore a long grey
beard, then such a rarity. The young gentlemen had mistaken their man.
He soundly punished two elder boys, and Mr Frith found he was not a Jew.
How he became a model does not come within the scope of our present
studies.
Mr Frith says that the head of a well-known firm of drapers in Regent
Street refused to employ shopmen who wore moustaches, or men who parted
their hair down the middle. In days before the moustache was popular, Mr
Frith shows how even in art circles its adoption retarded progress. "I
well remember," says Mr Frith, "a book illustrator named Stuart, who,
according to his own notion, ought to have been on the throne of England
instead of drawing on insensible wood blocks. He could trace his descent
from James I. He could sing Jacobite songs, and very well, too, and he
was certainly like Charles I. There was not the least doubt about his
pedigree in his own mind; and he was such a nuisance when once launched
into the long list of Royal blood, that we declared our unanimous
conviction of the justice of his claims, and implored him to put them
forward in the proper quarter, as we were powerless in the matter. The
Stuart beard, exactly like the Vandyke portrait of Charles, was the
treasured ornament of our friend's face, and though he was assured that
the publishers felt such doubt of his abilities, and such a conviction
of his utterly unreliable character and general dishonesty in
consequence of his beard--one man going so far as to tell him it cost
him £200 a year--he refused to remove it." Mr Frith says when the
Vandyke beard became white his poor friend would have died in extreme
poverty had he not received well-deserved assistance from a fund
established to meet cases like his.
The directors and managers of banks made a stand against the moustache
movement. It is asserted that the authorities of the Bank of England
issued an order "that the clerks were not to wear moustaches during
business hours." It is not surprising to learn that the amusing order
was soon cancelled. At the present time, at one of the great banks in
the Strand, the clerks have to be clean shaven. To illustrate the rigid
manner of enforcing the order, Mr Frith quotes the case of an old
servant of the bank, who was severely attacked by erysipelas in the face
and head. Even after convalescence the tenderness of the skin made
shaving impossible, but the old clerk begged to be allowed to return to
his desk. He was told by one of the principals, in a kind note in answer
to his application, that the bank would endeavour to get on without him
until his face was in a condition to bear the attention of his razor.