CHAPTER I.

THE HISTORY OF FASHION IN FRANCE.

THE

HISTORY OF FASHION

IN FRANCE;

OR,

THE DRESS OF WOMEN FROM THE GALLO-ROMAN

PERIOD TO THE PRESENT TIME.

_FROM THE FRENCH OF_

M. AUGUSTIN CHALLAMEL.

BY

MRS. CASHEL HOEY AND MR. JOHN LILLIE.

[Illustration]

London:

SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON,

CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.

1882.

[_All rights reserved._]

LONDON:

PRINTED BY GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LIMITED,

ST. JOHN’S SQUARE.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

INTRODUCTION.

Various definitions of fashion—The grave side of its

history—Quotations from the poets—Character of Frenchwomen—The

refinement of their tastes and fancies—Paris the temple of

fashion—The provinces—Mdlle. Mars’ yellow gown—The causes

of fashion—A saying of Mme. de Girardin’s—A remark of Mrs.

Trollope’s—The dress of actresses—Earliest theories of

fashion—The Gynæceum of Amman—First appearance of the “Journal

des Dames et des Modes”—Lamésangère—Other publications—An

anecdote concerning dolls—Plan of the History of Fashion in

France 1

CHAPTER I.

THE GALLIC AND GALLO-ROMAN PERIOD.

Gallic period—Woad, or the pastel—Tunics and boulgètes—“Mavors”

and “Palla”—Cleanliness of the Gallic women—The froth

of beer or “kourou”—The women of Marseilles; their

marriage-portions—Gallo-Roman period—The Roman garment—The

“stola”—Refinement of elegance—Extravagant luxury of

women—Artificial aids—A “vestiaire” or wardrobe-room of the

period—Shoes—Jewels and ornaments—The amber and crystal

ball—Influence of the barbarians 13

CHAPTER II.

THE MEROVINGIAN PERIOD.

Modifications in female dress after the Invasion of the

Franks—Customs of the latter—The Merovingians—Costumes of skins

and felt; cloaks and camlets—The coif, the veil, the skull-cap,

the “guimpe,” the cape—Fashionable Merovingian ladies adorn

themselves with flowers—Various articles of dress—The

“suint”—Young girls dress their hair without ornaments—St.

Radégonde—The hair of married women 21

CHAPTER III.

THE CARLOVINGIAN PERIOD.

Reign of Charlemagne—The women of the tenth century wear two

tunics—Judith’s belt—A veil is obligatory—Miniatures in the

Mazarin Library—Charles the Bald’s Bible—Shoes—Dress of Queen

Lutgarde—Dress of Rotrude and Bertha—Gisla and other kinswomen

of the Emperor—The successors of Charlemagne—Cannes—Adelaide of

Vermandois—The dress of widows 25

CHAPTER IV.

THE CARLOVINGIAN PERIOD.

Earliest times of the Carlovingian period—Variety of

costume in the provinces—Fashions in the Duchy of

France—French taste dating from the eleventh century—Luxury

increases with each generation—The dominical—The

“bliaud”—Canes of apple-wood—Women in the twelfth

century—Head-dresses—“Afiche”—Serpent-tails—Pelisses—The

thirteenth century—“Grèves” and veils are in fashion—The

“couvre-chef” in the fourteenth century—The skirt, or

“cotte-hardie,” surcoat, or overall, or over-skirt, cape,

trained skirt, and “gauzape”—Accessories—Emblazoned

gowns—Various kinds of stuffs 31

CHAPTER V.

THE INFLUENCE OF THE CRUSADES.

Severity of feminine costume—Long gowns and

_guimpes_—Marguerite of Provence—“Fermaux”—Reappearance

of splendour in dress—Eastern customs—The priests

of fashion—Haberdashery and peacock-feathers—Female

embroiderers—Taste for embroidery—Continual

temptations—Earliest sumptuary laws—Furs—St. Louis’s opinion

on dress—Prohibitions by Philippe le Bel; speech made by his

wife—Crépine 39

CHAPTER VI.

REIGNS OF JOHN AND OF CHARLES V.

The States of Languedoc—A young French lady in the

fourteenth and fifteenth centuries—Low dresses—Saying of

a mercer—_Damoiselles_—_Garnaches_ and _garde-corps_—_Le

Parement des dames_—Social distinctions—High character is worth

more than gilded belt—Precious stones—The castles and other

dwellings of the Middle Ages—Splendid furniture—Humble abodes

of the poor—Evening assemblies 45

CHAPTER VII.

REIGNS OF CHARLES VI. AND CHARLES VII.

Taste in dress becomes purer—Heart-shaped head-coverings,

the “cornette,” and the “hennin” in the reign of Charles

VI.—Husbands complain—Preachers denounce—Thomas Connecte

declaims against the diabolic invention—Brother Richard tries

to reform it—The “hennin” gains the victory—Costume of Jeanne

de Bourbon—“Escoffion”—An absurd figure—Gravouère—Isabeau

de Bavière—Gorgiasetés—Tripes—Splendour of the court—Agnes

Sorel—“Coiffe adournée;” diamonds; the carcan—Walking-sticks 51

CHAPTER VIII.

REIGNS OF LOUIS XI., CHARLES VIII., AND LOUIS XII.

Duchesses and bourgeoises under Louis XI.—“La grand’gorre,”

or sumptuosity—The “troussoire”—Allegorical and moral

costumes—Trains—Head-dresses—“Collets rebrassés”—Wigs

and false hair—Some results of the war in Italy—Italian

fashions—“Sollerets” and slippers—Gorgets—Garters—Jean Marot

writes against novelties—Anne of Brittany—Pins—Menot “the

golden-tongued”—A Parisian in the time of Louis XII.—Coat à

l’Italienne—Manufacture of stuffs 61

CHAPTER IX.

REIGN OF FRANCIS I.

The court of Francis I.—A speech of Charles V.—The

king’s liberality—Order of the Cordelière—Word-paintings

of the fashions of the day, by Rabelais—Costumes of

the seasons—Feather-fans—Sunshades—The “hoche-plis” or

vertugadin—Mme. de Tressan saves her cousin’s life—Satires

and songs—Mdlle. de Lacépède—“Contenances”—Silk shoes with

slashes—Head-dress called a “passe-filon”—Increase of love of

dress—The bean-flower—Artistic head-dresses—Twists of hair

called _ratraprenades_—Ferronières—Coaches in Paris; their

influence on the fashions 71

CHAPTER X.

REIGN OF HENRI II.

Fashions under Henri II.—The ruff—A satirical print of

the time—Catherine de Médicis eats soup—The Italian

taste—Regulations for dress—Crimson—Who shall wear silk?—Lines

on velvet, by Ronsard—Rotonde—“Collet monté”—Spring-water—Style

of gowns and head-dresses—Wired sleeves—Girdles—Caps, bonnets,

and hoods—The “touret de nez”—The “coffin à roupies”—Shoes—A

quotation from Rabelais 81

CHAPTER XI.

REIGN OF FRANCIS II.

The earliest queens of fashion—Mary Stuart’s costumes;

her jewels—Description of bodices and sleeves of that

period—Crosses—The “loup” or small mask—Coiffure “en

raquette”—An anecdote concerning high heels—Regulations

respecting fashion—Remark of a lady of our own day on

distinctions in dress—Exordium of the Edict of July 12,

1549—Maximum of marriage portions—The first knitted silk

stockings 89

CHAPTER XII.

REIGN OF CHARLES IX.

The wars of religion—The fashions of Italy are brought

across the Alps, and are welcomed in France—Effects of

the expeditions into Italy—Articles from Venice and Genoa

are very fashionable—A cloud of sugar-plums, and a shower

of scents—Effeminate style of dress—Charles IX. and his

Edicts against extravagant display—Fashion rebels against

sumptuary laws—Women of high rank, bourgeoises, widows,

and spinsters—Wedding dresses—Observations of a Venetian

ambassador—“Corps piqué”—Drawers—Paint—Cosmetics—Breast

mirrors, girdle mirrors—Court dresses—“Arcelets” 95

CHAPTER XIII.

REIGN OF HENRI III.

Opposition to the laws of King Henri III. on dress—The wife

of President N——.—How both sexes evaded the edicts—Gowns

from Milan—Mixture of masculine and feminine fashions—Rage

for perfumes—Recognition of rank is demanded—Costumes

worn at Cognac by Marguerite de Valois in presence of the

Polish ambassadors, and her costume at Blois—Brantôme’s

opinion—Pointed bodices, puffed-out sleeves, and

“bourrelets”—Remarks on hair—Ridiculous dress of men—Poucet,

the preacher—Satirical lines on Joyeuse—Witty remark of Pierre

de l’Estoile—Starch used by Henri III.—Cushions 103

CHAPTER XIV.

REIGNS OF HENRI IV. AND LOUIS XIII.

Universal mourning on the death of the Guises; intolerance

of showy dress—Vertugadins, “espoitrement,” “corps

espagnolé”—Diversity of colours—The pearls, jewels,

and diamonds belonging to Gabrielle d’Estrées and

to the queen—Dress of Marguerite de France—Low-cut

bodices—Head-dresses of hair—Various styles—Venetian

slippers—Edicts of Louis XII.—Caricatures: “Pompe funèbre de

la Mode”—Words and fashions—Ribbons or “galants”—Dress of

widows—“Demi-ceint” girdles—Gloves of all sorts—Patches—Masks;

their use—“Cache-laid”—The Frondeuses—Mme. de Longueville 113

CHAPTER XV.

REIGN OF LOUIS XIV.

Louis XIV. commands—Court luxury and pleasure; disguises—The

Temple jewellery—Fashion and etiquette—Successive

fashions—Royal edicts—The “Tombeau du sens commun”—Dress

of La Vallière—Of Mme. de Montespan—Costume of a

lady of rank in 1668—The “échelles de Mme. de la

Reynie”—“Transparencies”—Manufactures—Champagne, the

hair-dresser—Female hair-dressers—“Hurluberlus” and Mme. de

Sévigné—Moustaches for women; patches—Palatines—Slippers;

high heels—Corsets; fans; sweet lemons—Dog-muffs—Hair

dressed “à la Fontanges”—English style of dressing

hair—“Esther”—Steinkerks—“Crémonas”—“Amadis” and Jansenist

sleeves—Hair dressed “à l’effrontée”—Dresses of the Duchesse de

Bourgogne—Mignardises 125

CHAPTER XVI.

REIGN OF LOUIS XIV. (CONTINUED).

Painted faces—Reply of a Turkish ambassador—Ineffectual

criticism—Mme. Turcaret’s “pretintailles”—Mme. Bonnet’s

law-suit—Brocaded materials—“Andriennes”—“Criardes”—Return

of “hoops” and paniers—A sailor’s leap—Actresses’ paniers,

and the Greek head-dress—Mme. de Létorières—D’Hèle arrives

frozen at the Café Procope—Waterproofs—Finishing touches—Fans

and fan-makers in the seventeenth century—What Mme. de

Staël-Holstein thought of fans—Transition 143

CHAPTER XVII.

REIGN OF LOUIS XV.

The Regency—War is declared against paniers—The Oratorian

Duguet—Opinion of the “Journal de Verdun”—Various

publications against paniers—Lines by Voltaire—Whale-fishery

company—Paragraph from the “Journal de Barbier”—Mmes. Jaucourt,

De Seine, Delisle, Clairon, and Hus—Lines in praise of

corsets—New bodices—Coloured prints are forbidden—“Perses”

or “Persiennes”—Bagnolette—Adjuncts of dress: necklaces,

ridicules, and poupottes—Contents of a patch-box—A sermon

by Massillon—“Les mouches de Massillon,” or Massillon’s

patches—“Filles de Mode,” or Fashion-girls—Some passing

fashions—Powder remains in fashion—“Monte-au-ciel”—Simply made

gowns—The first cachemire 151

CHAPTER XVIII.

REIGN OF LOUIS XVI.

The influence of Marie Antoinette on fashion—Letter from

Maria Theresa—Léonard and Mdlle. Bertin—Various styles

of head-dresses—“Pouf”—The “Journal de Paris”—Reign of

Louis XVI.—Male and female hair-dressers—Plumes—Hair

worn low—The queen’s “puce”-coloured gown; shades of

colour in dresses—Oberkampf and the Jouy prints—Expensive

satins—Trimmings, their great number and importance—Gauze,

blond, tulle, and ribbons—Some kinds of shoes—Venez-y-voir—The

“Archduchess” ribbons—A dress worn at the opera 161

CHAPTER XIX.

REIGN OF LOUIS XVI. (CONTINUED).

Peasant dress is universal—Fashion “à la

Marlborough”—Caps—Bonnets—Mdlles. Fredin and Quentin—Ruches—Low

bodices; “postiches”—Costume of Contat-Suzanne—Fashions “à

la Figaro”—Literature and politics signified in dress; the

Princess de Monaco’s pouf—Pouf “à la circonstance;” the

“inoculation” pouf—The “innocence made manifest” caraco—The

“harpy” costume—Coats, cravats, and waistcoats—Sailor jackets

and “pierrots”—Déshabillés; “the lying fichu”—Etiquette in

dress—Seasonable costumes—The queen’s card-table—State of trade

in Paris, _circa_ 1787—“Pinceauteuses,” or female colourers 171

CHAPTER XX.

THE FRENCH REPUBLIC.

The year 1789—Masculine style of dress—The double dress

vanishes—Caps “à la grande prêtresse,” “à la pierrot,”

and “à la laitière”—The “pouf” bonnet—Paint and powder

disappear—Prediction by the _Cabinet des Modes_—Anonymous

caps—Cap “à la Charlotte Corday”—Trinkets “à la Bastille”—Mme.

de Genlis’ locket—Cap “à la Bastille”—Federal uniforms—Claims

to equality in dress—Reaction under the Directory—“Incroyables”

and “merveilleuses”—Coiffures “à la victime” and “à la

Titus”—Blond wigs and black wigs—The Hôtel Thélusson—_Which is

the most ridiculous?_—Mme. Tallien’s costume—Epigram on bonnets

“à la folle”—Reticules—Transparent dresses—Lines by Despréaux 179

CHAPTER XXI.

REIGN OF NAPOLEON I.

Fashions under the Empire—Sacks—“Personnes cossues”—A saying of

Napoleon’s—White gowns—Valenciennes lace—Ball dresses; walking

dresses—Polish “toquets” and bonnets—Turbans—Muslins—Artificial

flowers—Wenzel’s manufactory; “The Offspring of Imposture,”

Campenon’s verses—Parisian ladies, as sketched by Horace

Vernet—Stays—Cashmeres—Protest by Piis—Ternaux assists

in establishing the manufacture of cashmere shawls in

France—Cotton stuffs—Richard Lenoir; importance of the Rouen

manufacture—Violets during the Hundred Days—The “eighteen

folds,” and white silk 191

CHAPTER XXII.

REIGNS OF LOUIS XVIII. AND CHARLES X.

Importation of foreign fashions in 1815—White dresses,

white feathers, and fleurs de lys—Emigrant ladies—Russian

toques—Male and female dressmakers—Ruchings—Short sleeves

and long gloves—Herbault’s bonnets—“Chefs”—Anglomania in

1815—Green gauze veils; spencers—The “canezou”—Lacroix, the

stay-maker—Dr. Pelletan and Charles X.—Wasps—The “Ourika”

fashions—The famous leg-of-mutton sleeves—Fashions “à

l’Ipsiboé,” “au Trocadéro,” and “à la Dame Blanche”—Blonde caps

and turbans—Head-dresses—Fashions “à la giraffe;” “the last

sigh of Jocko”—Female book-keepers; shopwomen—The Café des

Mille-Colonnes 197

CHAPTER XXIII.

REIGN OF LOUIS PHILIPPE.

The Revolution of July, 1830—Fashions in Louis

Philippe’s reign—Microscopical bonnets, called “bibis,”

“cabriolets”—Variety of caps—Fashions of the Middle Ages and

of the Renaissance—The stage—Historic costumes—Influence of

Rachel, the actress—Greek and Roman fashions—Colours—Various

designations of materials—Bedouin sleeves—Bonnets and

head-dresses—Pamela bonnets—Novel eccentricities—Taglioni

gowns, gathered “à la Vierge,” laced “à la Niobé,” &c.—The

“Sylvestrine”—Costumes to be worn on occasions of attempts on

the king’s life—Bouquets for balls 205

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE SECOND REPUBLIC.

Tricoloured stuffs of 1848—Girondin mantles—Open gowns—Summer

dresses—Kasawecks and their derivatives—Beaver bonnets; velvet

bonnets, and satin or crape drawn bonnets—Cloches, Cornelia,

Moldavian, and Josephine cloaks; mantles—Isly green—Opera

cloaks—Numerous styles of dressing the hair: à la Marie

Stuart, à la Valois, Léda, Proserpine, and Ceres—Marquise

parasols—Jewellery—Straw bonnets—“Orleans” and “armure”—Work

reticule or bag—“Chinés”—Pagoda sleeves—Waistcoats; basque

bodices—New and economical canezous 213

CHAPTER XXV.

REIGN OF NAPOLEON III.

Ready-made mantles—Talmas, mousquetaires, and rotondes—The

Second Empire; reminiscences of the reign of Napoleon

I.—Marriage of Napoleon III.; dress of the new Empress; her

hair dressed by Félix Escalier; court mantle and train—Four

kinds of dress—Opera dress in 1853-4—Bodices “à la Vierge,”

Pompadour bodices, and Watteau bodices—Skirt trimmings—A

new colour, “Théba”—Light tints—Social and theatrical

celebrities—The Eugénie head-dress and Mainnier bands—End of

the first period of Imperial fashions 221

CHAPTER XXVI.

REIGN OF NAPOLEON III. (CONTINUED).

Crinoline inaugurates the second era of Imperial fashions—The

reign of crinoline—Starched petticoats—Whaleboned

petticoats—Steel hoops—Two camps are formed, one in favour

of, and one inimical to crinoline—Large collars—Marie

Antoinette fichus and mantles—Exhibition of 1855—Cashmere

shawls—Pure cashmeres—Indian cashmere shawls—Indian woollen

shawls—“Mouzaia” shawls—Algerian burnouses—Pompadour

parasols—Straight parasols—School for fans—The fan drill—The

Queen of Oude’s fans—The Charlotte Corday fichu 227

CHAPTER XXVII.

REIGN OF NAPOLEON III. (CONTINUED).

Sea-bathing and watering-places—Special

costumes—Travelling-bags—Hoods and woollen shawls—Convenient

style of dress—Kid and satin boots; high heels—Introduction

of the “several” and the “Ristori”—Expensive

pocket-handkerchiefs—Waists are worn shorter—Zouave, Turkish,

and Greek jackets—Bonnet-fronts—Gold trimmings universally

used—Tarlatane, tulle, and lace 233

CHAPTER XXVIII.

REIGN OF NAPOLEON III. (CONTINUED).

Fashions in 1860 and 1861—Jewellery—Shape of “Russian”

bonnets—Nomenclature of girdles—Different styles of dressing

the hair—The “Ceres” wreath—Flowers and leaves for the

hair—Prohibition of green materials—Anecdotes from the

_Union Médicale_ and the _Journal de la Nièvre_—Cloth and

silk mantles—Braid and astrakan—Four types of bonnet—Morning

bonnets—Artificial flowers 237

CHAPTER XXIX.

REIGN OF NAPOLEON III. (CONTINUED).

Sunshades, en-tout-cas, _métis_, in 1862—Sailors’ jackets,

jerseys, and pilot-jackets—Princess or demi-princess gowns;

Swiss bodices; corset or postillion belts—Lydia and Lalla

Rookh jackets; Vespertina opera cloaks—“Longchamps is no

more”—Bois de Boulogne—Russian or Garibaldi bodices—Paletot

vest—Empress belt—1885 patents for inventions regarding

dress are taken out in 1864—Victoria skeleton skirts; Indian

stays; train-supporters—“Titian”-coloured hair—The Peplum in

1866—Épicycloïde steels; aquarium earrings—Description of a

court ball-dress—The fashions of Louis XV., Louis XVI., and the

Empire are revived—Sedan chairs—Handkerchiefs at all prices 241

CHAPTER XXX.

REIGN OF NAPOLEON III. (END).

Five different styles of dressing the hair in 1868 and

1869—“Petit catogan;” three triple bandeaus—The hair is

worn loose—Dress of the Duchess de Mouchy—Refinements of

fashion—Various journals—New shades—Crinoline is attacked; it

resists; it succumbs—Chinese fashions 247

CHAPTER XXXI.

THE THIRD REPUBLIC.

The years 1870 and 1871—The siege of Paris—General

mourning—Simplicity and economy—Parisian velvet and

pekin—A concert costume—A cloth costume—Alsatian bows and

costumes—Soirées at the Presidency—Marie Stuart and Michael

Angelo bonnets—“Hunting stockings”—Rabagas hats—The years

1872 and 1873—Fan parasols—“Leopold Robert” bonnets—The

year 1873—Return of luxury—“Regent” belts and “sovereign”

dress-improvers—Silks—“Moderate” costumes—The burning of

the Opera House—Sale on behalf of those made orphans by the

war—The ball for the Lyons weavers—Cashmere tunics—Dislike

to gloves—Petticoats—Charles IX. shoes—Slippers—The

year 1874—“Page” bonnets and “Margot” hats—Hair in the

Swiss style; false hair—The ball given by the Chamber of

Commerce—Green—Jet—Various costumes—Hair-dressing—“Mercury”

bonnets 251

CHAPTER XXXII.

FASHIONS OF THE PRESENT DAY.

Dinner, casino, and ball dresses in

1875—Importation of false hair—Manufacture in

France—Modification of waterproofs—“Estelle”

bonnets—Tunic aprons—Cuirass bodices—“Montespan”

sleeves—“Saut-du-lit”—Shoes of past times—“Bonnes-femmes”

pockets—Henri III. plumes—“Inez” veils—Ribbons and

flowers—Heavy style of dress—“Pouf” petticoats—Composite

fashions of 1876—Armenian toques—“Ophelia” bonnets; “Danichef”

bonnets—Mdlle. Bettina Rothschild’s wedding trousseau—A

splendid parasol—Gondolier hair-nets—“Baby” sashes and

“Baby” bonnets—“Fontanges” fichus—“Platitudes”—Red, as a

colour—Pockets of various kinds—Majestic appendages—Princess

dresses—Bouquets on the bodices—Hair dressed in the

Greek style—A thousand curls—Breton style—Organ-pipe

frills—Coat-bodices—Trinkets in black and silver 263

CHAPTER XXXIII.

FASHIONS OF THE PRESENT DAY (CONTINUED).

The International Exhibition of 1878—Foreign countries—Japanese

fans—The little lace-makers of Peniche—Retrospective exhibition

of costume in France—“Considérations sur le vêtement des

femmes”, by M. Charles Blanc—Historical Exhibition at

the Trocadéro—Comprehensive glance at the curiosities of

that exhibition—“The Movement” in 1879—“Merveilleuse,”

“Niniche,” and other bonnets—Plush—Gown-stuff at a

hundred francs the yard—Scarfs, casaques, and various

bodices—Madras costumes—Under-clothing; chemise-corsets,

morning-gowns—“Housewife” fans; fan-holders—Trinkets—New

materials—Visites; jackets; bows; neckties—The year

1880—“Cabriolet” bonnets; “passe-montagnes”—The pilgrim

costume—Satins—Favourite colours—Vests—Art buttons—Bulgarian

costumes—Jerseys—Scented gloves—Flowers in profusion; a bridal

bouquet—Midshipman bonnets—Nordenskiold—Dust-cloaks—Revolution

in bonnets—Art and fashion—“Porte-veines” 277

CHAPTER XXXIV.

CONCLUSION 289

[Illustration]

THE HISTORY OF FASHION IN FRANCE.

INTRODUCTION.

Various definitions of fashion—The grave side of its

history—Quotations from the poets—Character of Frenchwomen—The

refinement of their tastes and fancies—Paris the temple of

fashion—The provinces—Mdlle. Mars’ yellow gown—The causes

of fashion—A saying of Mme. de Girardin’s—A remark of Mrs.

Trollope’s—The dress of actresses—Earliest theories of

fashion—The Gynæceum of Amman—First appearance of the “Journal

des Dames et des Modes”—Lamésangère—Other publications—An

anecdote concerning dolls—Plan of the History of Fashion in

France.

Fashion is the expositor, from the standpoint of costume, of our habits

and our social relations; in a word, of everything appertaining to the

charm of life.

Therefore to write the history of female fashion in France is a more

serious task than it might seem to be at the first glance. The levity

of the subject is mastered by its moral interest. Montesquieu remarks,

in his “Lettres Persanes,” “A certain lady takes it into her head that

she must appear at an assembly in a particular costume; from that moment

fifty artisans have to go without sleep, or leisure either to eat or

drink. She commands, and is obeyed more promptly than a Shah of Persia,

because self-interest is the mightiest ruler upon the earth.”

Far from serving only as a source of frivolous talk, even when it is

specially concerned with our dress and ornamentation, the subject

of fashion, it has been wisely observed, has its value as a moral

sign-post, and supplies the historian, the philosopher, and the novelist

with a guide to the prevailing ideas of the time.

Fashion, in fact, acts as a sort of thermometer of the infinitely various

tastes of the day, which are influenced by many external circumstances.

It is the continuous development of clothing in its thousand varying

forms, in its most striking improvements, in its most graceful or most

whimsical fancies. The type of dress scarcely changes within the limits

of a century; but its adjuncts and characteristics vary frequently every

year.

To the proverb, “Tell me your friends, and I will tell you who you are,”

might we not add, after serious reflection, “Tell me how such a person

dresses, and I will tell you her character”?

Numerous poets have defined Fashion, and for the most part petulantly and

disdainfully. One of them says,—

“La mode est un tyran, des mortels respecté,

Digne enfant du dégoût et de la nouveauté.”[1]

Another adds,—

“Les modes sont certains usages

Suivis des fous, et quelquefois des sages,

Que le caprice invente et qu’approuve l’amour.”[2]

A third remarks with truth, and less severity,—

“Le sage n’est jamais le premier à les suivre,

Ni le dernier à les quitter.”[3]

And La Bruyère asserts that “it shows as much weakness to fly from

Fashion as to follow it closely.” We must not limit the causes of Fashion

to three only,—love of change, the influence of those with whom we live

and the desire of pleasing them, and the interests of traders in the

transient reign of objects of luxury, so that their place may be supplied

with fresh novelties. There remains to be pointed out a fourth and

nobler cause; it is the frequently though not always successful desire

to improve the art of dress, to increase its charm, and to advance its

progress.

We do not undertake to relate the history of fashion in male attire,

albeit its variations and singularities are by no means less numerous and

remarkable than those of the history of fashion for women, which in every

age has proved itself both powerful and tyrannical.

We must restrict ourselves to the garments worn by women in each

succeeding age, and indeed we must confine ourselves to France alone, if

we would achieve as complete a picture as possible of the transformations

in female dress from the time of the Gauls to the day on which we shall

have accomplished our task.

Grace, vivacity, and, we must add, caprice, are the distinguishing

characteristics of Frenchwomen. With some very few exceptions we

shall find the qualities or the failings of our charming countrywomen

reproduced in their mode of dress. Be she a peasant or a dweller in

cities, a working woman or a duchess, every Frenchwoman in town or

country reveals herself frankly by the clothes she wears. Her innate

desire to please makes her especially object to wear garments of any one

particular fashion for long. She is ingenious in devising countless novel

accessories to her dress, and adding to its effect. She adorns herself

with embroidery, with lace, and with jewels, and, if need be, with

flowers, that she may be irresistibly attractive.

A Frenchwoman endeavours to supplement those gifts bestowed upon her

by nature by the refinements of the toilet. She maintains that fashion

is never ridiculous, because good sense is never wanting in France to

curb extravagance, and good taste will ever preserve the harmonious

proportions that are an inherent necessity in dress.

It has been said by a woman of tact and observation, “It is perhaps

allowable to be sentimental in a sky-blue bonnet, but one must not cry in

a pink one.”

This remark as to the fitness of dress shows that Frenchwomen are

properly attentive to the harmony that should exist between the moral

state of a person and the garments suitable for her wear. Mme. Emile de

Girardin observes acutely, “There is but one way of wearing a beautiful

gown, and that is to forget it.”

“Go where you will,” wrote (in 1835) the travelled Englishwoman Mrs.

Trollope, “and you see French fashions, but only in Paris do you see

how they should be worn.... The dome of the Invalides, the towers of

Notre-Dame, the column of the Place Vendôme, the windmills of Montmartre

belong to Paris less essentially and less exclusively than the style of a

bonnet, a cap, a shawl, a curl, or a glove ... when worn by a Parisian in

the city of Paris.”

It is therefore perfectly true to say that a history of fashion in

women’s dress in France has a singular likeness to a history of the

French female character. There exists not a woman, according to Mme. de

Genlis, who does not possess at least one secret in the art of dress, and

that secret she is sure to keep to herself.

In France, the classic land of fancy, the empire of Fashion has assuredly

been more deeply felt than elsewhere. From time immemorial Frenchwomen

have altered their fashions each succeeding day. An eminently French poet

was thinking of his countrywomen when he composed the following lines,

which sum up all that has been said on our present interesting subject:—

“Il est une déesse inconstante, incommode,

Bizarre dans ses goûts, folle en ses ornements,

Qui paraît, fuit, revient, renaît en tous les temps;

Protée était son père et son nom est la Mode.”[4]

Now, Proteus the sea-god, in order to escape from questioning upon the

future, changed his shape at pleasure.

It might be said that the poet we have just quoted was referring to

Parisian ladies in particular; but this would be a mistake; for a great

number of elegant women reside in the provinces, and have quite as

fervent a devotion to the inconstant goddess as their Parisian sisters.

In former times Fashion reserved its great effects and its utmost

brilliancy for the rich only; in the present day it pervades every rank

of society, and exercises its influence even over the national costume of

the peasant; for a cotton gown will now be cut on the same pattern as a

velvet one.

All Frenchwomen like perpetual change in dress, and foreigners follow

French fashions almost implicitly. Spanish women only, actuated by their

national pride, refused for a long time to make any change in their

costume, yet even they are now beginning to dress “à la Française.”

At present the type of feminine dress always originates in Paris, and

spreads thence, throughout France, into the most distant regions of

Europe, and even into Asia and America. In both those countries our

fashion-books are widely circulated. “Paris,” writes a contemporary

author, “possesses the undisputed privilege of promulgating sumptuary

laws for nations. The fashions of Paris are and will be the fashions of

the world; that of which Paris approves will endure; that which Paris

condemns must disappear. But for the good taste and the fickleness of

Parisians, but for the inventive genius and manual dexterity of their

artisans, mankind might be clothed indeed, but never dressed.”

And what of womankind? Where is the Frenchwoman, the Englishwoman, the

Italian, the German, or the Russian, who does not require her milliner to

make her a bonnet on the pattern of those which emanate from a Parisian

‘atelier’? “France,” as Victor Hugo has said, “will always be in fashion

in Europe.” Those nations who are least in sympathy with her accept and

observe her laws on elegance and ‘ton.’

This can be proved by figures. The exportation of articles of fashion

manufactured in France reaches a very high figure; our importations of

foreign goods of the same kind are, on the contrary, quite insignificant.

The word “fashion” seems to convey to young people an almost absolute

sense of novelty. Yet are there distinctions. There is new and new, just

as, according to Molière, there are “fagots” and “fagots.” That which

is new to-day may be but a revival of what is old, a reminiscence of

the past. The axiom, “There is nothing new under the sun,” applies with

special force to Fashion.

What! nothing new? No, absolutely nothing. Who knows whether the pretty

trifles, the “mouches” worn by women at the present day, are not a

reproduction or at any rate an imitation of similar adornments once worn

by the Egyptians, the Greeks, the Romans, or the Gauls?

The ruffs which are so generally worn at present were in fashion in the

time of Henri III. They were then an adjunct to masculine dress; they

hold their place now in a lady’s wardrobe.

As we study the history of the variations of Fashion in France alone,

we perceive that feminine fancy describes an endless circle; that a

particular garment is readily cast aside just in proportion as it has

been eagerly adopted; that supreme, unjust, and unreasonable contempt

succeeds to irresistible attraction.

Fashion changes her idols at times with such rapidity, that one might

exclaim with reference to female dress,—

“Je n’ai fait que passer, il n’était déjà plus!”

It frequently happens that the general public will adopt any costume,

however eccentric, which has been worn by a celebrated person. That which

seemed hideous before the whim of a celebrity induced her to appear in

it, becomes the height of fashion immediately afterwards.

We may quote as an instance of this an anecdote that appears in the

“Indiscrétions et Confidences” of Audebert, a work published a few years

ago.

Mdlle. Mars was giving some performances at Lyons, and was not a little

astonished, on the day after her first appearance, to receive a morning

visit from one of the principal manufacturers in that city.

“Mademoiselle,” said he, “I hope you will pardon the motive of my visit;

you can make my fortune.”

“I, monsieur? I should be delighted, but pray tell me how?”

“By accepting this piece of velvet.”

So saying, he spread out on the table several yards of yellow terry

velvet. Mdlle. Mars began to think she was being “interviewed” by a

madman.

“Mon Dieu!” she exclaimed in an agitated voice, “what do you wish me to

do with that velvet?”

“To have a gown made of it, mademoiselle. When once you have been seen

in it, everybody will wear it, and my fortune will be made.”

“But nobody has ever worn a yellow gown.”

“Exactly so; the point is to set the fashion. Do not refuse me, I implore

you.”

“No, monsieur, I will not refuse you,” replied Mdlle. Mars. And she moved

towards a writing-table on which lay her purse.

“Mademoiselle will not affront me by offering payment. All I ask is that

mademoiselle will have the goodness to give the address of my factory,

which I may say stands high in reputation.”

Mdlle. Mars promised, and was delighted to be rid of her visitor. On her

return to Paris she saw her dressmaker, and in the course of conversation

said, “By-the-bye, I must show you a piece of terry velvet that I have

brought back from Lyons; you must tell me how it can be used.”

“It is of beautiful quality—quite superfine. But what is to be done with

it?”

“It was given to me for a gown.”

“A yellow gown! I never sent one out in my life!”

“Well, then, suppose we make the experiment.”

“Madame can venture on anything.”

A few days later, Mdlle. Mars, who had gone early to the theatre, put on

the yellow terry velvet gown. When her toilet was finished, she inspected

herself in the glass from every point of view, and exclaimed,—

“It is impossible for me to appear on the stage in such a gown!”

Vainly did the manager, vainly did her fellow-actors implore her not to

ruin the performance by refusing to appear. Mdlle. Mars was obstinate.

“She would not,” she declared, “look like a canary bird.” At length Talma

succeeded in persuading her that her dress was in perfect taste, and

eminently becoming.

Convinced by his arguments, Mdlle. Mars at length ventured, though with

some misgiving, on the stage, where she was received with a murmur of

admiration. All the ladies inspected her through their opera-glasses;

there was loud applause, and “What a charming gown!” was uttered on all

sides.

The next day all Paris was ringing with Mdlle. Mars’ yellow gown, and

the week was hardly over before a similar one was to be seen in every

drawing-room. Dressmakers were overwhelmed with work, and from that day

yellow has held its own among the colours considered as the right thing

for gowns.

A few years later Mdlle. Mars revisited Lyons; the manufacturer, whose

fortune she had made, gave a splendid fête in her honour, at his charming

country house on the banks of the Saône. He had paid for the mansion out

of the profits arising from the enormous sale of yellow terry velvet.

How often since Mdlle. Mars’ time have actresses decisively set the

fashion in dress! The Théâtre-Français, the Gymnase, and the Vaudeville

have been, as it were, exhibitions, where the feminine world has taken

lessons in dress. Who does not recollect Sardou’s comedy, “La Famille

Benoîton,” in which for several years there was a continuous show of

eccentric costumes?

It must be admitted that actresses, who charm by their genius, their

gestures, and their diction, confer on costume all the expression of

which it is capable, and lend a significance all their own to the

achievements of the mantua-maker.

Is it enough to be brilliantly attired? to be remarkable for

eccentricities in dress? to display costumes of the most fantastic kinds?

Certainly not. Besides these things the wearer must know how to make the

very most of her attire. Fashion and coquetry are twins. It matters not

how far we may look back into antiquity, among the Egyptians, the nations

of the East, the Greeks, the Romans, or the inhabitants of Gaul, we shall

always find these two sisters linked together, giving each other mutual

help, and adapting themselves to the climate, to the peculiarities of the

soil, and to the passions of the inhabitants.

From earliest childhood our French girls are trained in coquetry by their

own parents, innocently enough no doubt, but still such training is not

without its dangers.

“Louise,” says a mother to her little daughter, “if you are a good child

you shall wear your pretty pink frock on Sunday, or your lovely green

hat, or your blue socks,” &c. The little girl accordingly is “good,” in

order to gratify her taste for dress, and her budding love of admiration:

both of these qualities will develope as her years increase.

“Cast a glance on the graceful perfection, on the inimitably attractive

charm which distinguishes the dress of a Frenchwoman from that of all

other women on earth,” says a contemporary writer, “and you will soon see

a difference between mademoiselle and madame; the very sound of their

voices is not the same. The heart and the mental faculties of a young

girl seem to be wrapped in slumber, or at any rate dozing, until the day

comes when they are to be roused by the marriage ceremony. So long as

only mademoiselle is speaking, there is in the tone, or rather in the key

of her voice, something limp, monotonous, and insipid; but let madame

address you, and you will be fascinated by the charm with which rhythm,

cadence, and accentuation can invest a woman’s voice.”

As we have said, Paris and the whole of France have for a very long

time inaugurated the fashions which every other nation has adopted.

Yet the first journal especially devoted to fashion was not published

in France. One Josse Amman, a painter, who was born at Zurich, and

who died at Nuremberg, brought out, in 1586, a charming series of

plates on the fashions of his day, under the title of “Gynæceum, sive

Theatrum Mulierum,” &c. (“The Gynæceum or Theatre of Women, in which

are reproduced by engraving the female costumes of all the nations of

Europe”). This work was published at Frankfort, and although it cannot

be duly appreciated by women, because it is written in Latin, it must be

regarded as the origin of all the Journals of Fashion which have since

grown and multiplied.

Under the title, “Les Modes de la Cour de France, depuis l’an 1675

jusqu’à l’année 1689,” two folio volumes of coloured fashion-plates were

published in Paris; but they principally related to special costumes

for the courtiers of Louis XIV.; the “city” was treated with contempt,

and admiration was reserved for fine “court-dresses.” There was no

periodical paper in France, relating to novelties in female dress,

before the time of the Directory, in the closing years of the eighteenth

century. Until then there had been no development of theories on this

interesting subject. Our neighbours imitated our dress, after having

visited our salons or our promenades, or they consulted some desultory

drawings of costume.

In June 1797, Selléque, in partnership with Mme. Clément, _née_ Hémery,

founded the “Journal des Dames et des Modes.” They were joined, in the

matter of engraving only, by an ecclesiastic named Pierre Lamésangère, a

sober and grave personage, who a few years before had been Professor of

Literature and Philosophy at the College of La Flèche, and who by reason

of the evil times was embarking on a career very far opposed to that of

the Professor’s chair. On the death of Selléque, Lamésangère carried on

the journal, and made it his chief business from the year 1799.

The “Journal des Dames et des Modes” was published at intervals of five

days, with a pretty coloured plate of a lady in fashionable dress. On

the 15th of each month there were two plates. Lamésangère himself kept

the accounts, edited the magazine with as light a touch as possible, and

superintended the engraving of the plates. He attended the theatres and

all places of public resort in order to observe the ladies’ dresses.

So successful was the undertaking that Lamésangère acquired a

considerable fortune. His own attire was above criticism. At his death

his wardrobe contained a thousand pairs of silk stockings, two thousand

pairs of shoes, six dozen blue coats, one hundred round hats, forty

umbrellas, and ninety snuffboxes.

Truly a well-provided wardrobe! and greatly exceeding that of a wealthy

person at the present day.

The “Journal des Dames et des Modes” reigned without a rival for more

than twenty years, viz. from 1797 to 1829. It forms an amusing collection

of three-and-thirty volumes, and may be consulted with profit both by

philosophers and fine ladies.

Some of his contemporaries used to compare Lamésangère to Alexander. His

empire over the world of fashion was as wide as that of Alexander. At his

death his kingdom was divided, even as the possessions of the King of

Macedonia were. “Le Petit Courrier des Dames,” “Le Follet,” “La Psyché,”

and a hundred other fashion-books appeared: among them we must name “La

Mode,” a journal published under the patronage of the Duchess de Berri,

sumptuously printed, and which became a sort of arbiter of fashion in

“high life.”

At the present day there are innumerable guide-books to Fashion.

Women are at no loss for description, history, practical details, or

information concerning the business of their toilet. Intelligent minds

are daily at work to invent or to perfect the numberless trifles that are

either aids or snares to beauty.

In addition to books, albums, and newspapers, Fashion also makes use of

dolls for its propaganda. Dolls serve as models to the women of foreign

nations, and for a length of time they have played their part in this

important matter. In 1391, Isabeau de Bavière, the Queen of Charles VI.,

made a present of dolls dressed in the latest fashion to the Queen of

England; and the books of the Royal Household mention a similar gift from

Anne of Brittany to the celebrated Isabella of Castile, Queen of Spain,

in 1496.

In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries these gifts of dolls became

very frequent. They were so highly valued, that during the terrible war

of the Succession in Spain between the English and French, the Cabinets

of Versailles and of St. James’s granted a free pass for an alabaster

doll, which, with dress and hair arranged in the newest fashion of the

Court of France, conveyed our latest novelties across the Channel.

Like Dandin, the judge in “Les Plaideurs,” who begs Intimé the lawyer to

“pass on to the deluge” so as to escape his lecture on the creation of

the world, our fair readers must hope that we are not about to begin our

history with the origin of our country.

But while we restrict ourselves within proper limits, it is not possible

to avoid speaking of the dress of the most remote ancestresses who are

known to us, of the women of Gaul and Roman-Gaul.

We must, for a short space, return to those far-off ages, because certain

attributes of dress which existed of old have reappeared at different

times, and at the very date at which we write, more than one Gallic or

Gallo-Roman fashion may be recognized in the garments or the head-dresses

of our countrywomen.

We therefore ask permission to dwell for a short time on the earlier

centuries of our history. Then the Merovingian period will supply us

with curious documents. The Carlovingians and the early branches of the

family of Capet will claim a larger share of our attention. Finally we

shall dwell on the Middle Ages, and the period of the Renaissance, which

were remarkable for luxury, love of wealth, and splendour of Art, and so

we shall pass on to the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, over which

Fashion reigned an absolute monarch.

The Revolution of 1789, the Empire, the Restoration, the Monarchy of

July, the Second Empire—in a word, Contemporary History as it is called,

will bring us to 1881, and the fashions of which our fair readers can

judge for themselves: we have no intention of taking a place among

archæologists, or arraying a multitude of historical notes before them.

Moreover documents are few, and even if we wished to relate our story

in full, it would not be possible, since we are bound to observe the

limits of historical truth. We may, indeed, endeavour to present it in a

pleasant light, but we must not change its natural expression.

CHAPTER I.

THE GALLIC AND GALLO-ROMAN PERIOD.

Gallic period—Woad, or the pastel—Tunics and boulgètes—“Mavors”

and “Palla”—Cleanliness of the Gallic women—The froth

of beer or “kourou”—The women of Marseilles; their

marriage-portions—Gallo-Roman period—The Roman garment—The

“stola”—Refinement of elegance—Extravagant luxury of

women—Artificial aids—A “vestiaire” or wardrobe-room of the

period—Shoes—Jewels and ornaments—The amber and crystal

ball—Influence of the barbarians.

We learn with horror from ancient writers that certain women of Gaul were

accustomed to dye their skin with a whitish matter, procured from the

leaves of the woad or pastel, a cruciform plant from which is derived

a starchy substance, that may be substituted for indigo for certain

purposes. Others were tattooed in almost the same manner as the savages

of America.

Such were our mothers in primitive Gaul, a country which differed little

in extent from modern France.

But time did its work, and a little later, when the inhabitants began

to practise industrial arts, the costume of a Gallic woman consisted of

a wide plaited tunic and of an apron fastened round the hips. She would

sometimes wear as many as four tunics, one over the other, a mantle,

part of which veiled her face, and a “mitre” or Phrygian cap. She made

use also of pockets or of leathern bags, and of “bouls” or “boulgètes,”

made of network, which are still in use in Languedoc, and are called

“reticules.”

Rich women remarkable for their beauty and elegance adorned themselves

with many-coloured linen mantles, fastening with a clasp on the shoulder;

or else they were entirely unclothed to the waist, and draped themselves

in a large mantle, which floated over their skirts, and was kept in its

place by a clasp or fibula of gold or silver, greatly resembling the

modern brooch.

A veil covered the head and bosom; when short, it was called a ‘mavors;’

when long, falling for instance to the feet, it bore the name of ‘palla.’

The cleanliness of the Gallic women, which has been praised by

historians, added another charm to their unrivalled natural beauty. No

Gallic woman, whatever her rank, would have consented or even ventured

to wear dirty, untidy, or torn garments; nor did any one of them fail

to frequent the baths which were established everywhere, even in the

very poorest localities. The Gallo-Roman woman was admired for her fair

complexion, her tall and elegant figure, and her beautiful features; and

she neglected nothing that might tend to procure her that homage. Cold

bathing, unguents for the face and often for the entire body were to her

a delight, a duty, and a necessity. In order to preserve the freshness

of her complexion, she bathed her face in the froth of beer or _kourou_,

dyed her eyebrows with tallow, or with a juice taken from the sea-pike,

a fish found on the coast of Gaul. She made frequent use at her toilet

of chalk dissolved in vinegar, a mixture injurious to health, but very

efficacious as a pommade; she coloured her cheeks with vermilion, put

lime on her hair, which she covered with a net, or plaited it into narrow

bands, either throwing it back or giving it the curve of a helmet.

Her luxury was not limited to ornaments only, to necklaces, bracelets,

rings, or waist-bands of metal; she borrowed her charms from Nature too,

and, as we have seen, had little reason to complain. Bracelets, which

still held their place under the Merovingians, do not seem to have been

worn in the Middle Ages.

In the south, on the shores of the Mediterranean, the women were

strikingly beautiful. They wore a quantity of jewels, a short garment

reaching only to the knees, and a gorgeously bright red apron, such as is

worn by the Neapolitans to this day.

At Marseilles the civilization of the Greeks had spread among the people.

The young girls of the city were always dressed with elegance, and,

doubtless lest drink might impair the ivory white of their complexion,

custom forbade them to partake of wine; also in order to guard against

an excess of luxury, the law required that the highest marriage-portion

of a woman should not exceed one hundred golden crowns, nor her finest

ornaments five hundred crowns. And that arbitrary law seems to have been

strictly enforced.

After the conquest of Gaul by Cæsar, Roman civilization and Roman

corruption were introduced into our country.

It is difficult to resist the attractions of beautiful things, and

however great may have been the hatred of their husbands towards the

conquerors, the Gallic women, now become Gallo-Romans, were very ready,

as may easily be imagined, to follow the example of the ladies from

Italy. They declined to be beaten in the art of pleasing, as their

warriors had been vanquished on the battle-field.

The fair Gallo-Roman adopted the fashions of Rome. Extravagance in dress

became boundless, and dissimilarity of garments denoted various degrees

of wealth. The “stola,” a tunic reaching to the ground, and gathered by

a girdle round the hips, while a band adjusted it to the bosom, allowed

only the tips of the feet to be seen. It fell in numerous rich folds, and

was as characteristic of the matron as was the “toga” of a citizen of

Rome.

One lady might be satisfied with a chemise, with the wide drapery of the

tunic scolloped at the edge, a short apron and sandals; while another

would load herself with tunics, the upper one being sleeveless, sometimes

embroidered and sometimes not, confined by a band round the waist, and by

a clasp on either shoulder. A sort of mantilla veiled the entire figure.

Some few ladies chose to wear garments which on account of their great

breadth were called “palissades” by Horace, the satirical poet of the

Augustan age.

From these the first idea of those vertugadins and crinolines, which we

shall frequently be called upon to notice in the course of the present

history, appears to have been derived.

An elegant town lady would also adorn herself with a mantle that half

covered her head, and with the “pallium,” a golden tissue without either

clasps or pins, thrown across the left shoulder and round the figure.

Another would, like a Gallic woman, wear the Phrygian cap, which allowed

her beautiful hair to be seen and admired. This was fastened back with

the “vitta,” a ribbon or band which only patricians had the right to

use, crossed with narrow bands or confined in a net, and arranged with

much skill. The hair was frequently dyed red or yellow; or brown plaits

would be concealed under the fair locks taken from some German slave, and

lightly sprinkled with gold-dust.

The face of a Gallo-Roman lady was resplendent in beauty, thanks to the

refined arts of dress, and her complexion remained incomparably fair in

spite of the lapse of years. Beneath the tunic she wore the “strophium,”

a sort of corset which defined the figure, and in which she could carry

her letters. Ovid observes that to equalize the shoulders, if one were

rather higher than the other, it was sufficient to drape lightly the

lower of the two. Thus did “postiches” and padding originate.

The Gallo-Roman lady soon began to make use of the “sudarium” or

pocket-handkerchief, a piece of stuff, either plain or embroidered,

which she held in her hand to wipe the damp from her forehead, or to

use as we use our handkerchiefs. We can imagine her leaving her gilded

chariot, a sort of palanquin whose shafts were supported by a pair of

horses, mules, or oxen. This was a closed carriage lined with skins and

strewn with straw, and the noble lady lay within it, softly reposing on a

“pulvinar,” or large silken cushion scented with roses. She had adopted

the manners, if not the morals of the East. She could appreciate and

admire and amass rings of gold, silver ornaments for her dressing-table,

for the bath-room, for travelling; mirrors, earrings of incrusted glass,

rings, and necklaces. She made use of many different perfumes: scented

and hygienic pomatums, essence of lilies, roses, and myrrh, unguents made

from the cock and from pure spikenard. She delighted in waist-bands and

ribbons, in cushions, furs, and felt,—in one word, in all the luxuries

that contribute to cleanliness and elegance. She had a decided taste for

showy colours.

The wardrobe of a Gallic-Roman lady would consist of tissues of linen,

cotton, or silk, taking the place of the modern chemise; of a sort of

boneless corset to support the bosom, of a dressing-gown, of robes of

ceremony, of tunics, half tunics, and violet-coloured mantles, shaped

much like a modern pelerine. A Frenchwoman of the present day has not a

better assorted wardrobe.

On going out Gallic-Roman ladies donned a short mantle, which covered

their shoulders, and a scarf for their head, the light and transparent

veil of which their head-dress was composed sparkled with gold and silver

spangles, mingled with narrow bands, ribbons, and beads. They left their

pointed and cork-soled slippers, turned up at the toes and without heels,

at home. Similar shoes may be seen to this day in the Museum at Clermont,

in Auvergne.

Whenever an elegant patrician lady left her home to take a drive or pay

visits, she changed her shoes. Sandals took the place of the “lancia,”

or house-slippers. She sometimes wore the “cothurnus,” a walking-boot,

unrivalled, except by the light shoes called “campodes,” habitually worn

by the peasant women. Shoes were marks of distinction. For instance,

those called “peribarides” denoted that the Gallo-Roman lady, their

wearer, belonged to one of the highest families.

In Gaul, as in Rome, extravagance in jewels and ornaments defied all

the sumptuary laws, although the latter were as plentiful as they were

useless. Gallo-Romans would not be denied their gold and silver ornaments.

Cameos and engraved stones, emeralds, amethysts, sapphires, and the

finest pearls give immense value to the necklaces, rings, bracelets,

large circular earrings, and even garters, of that remote period.

Garters, we beg to point out, were not used to keep up stockings, which

were not worn in those times, but served to confine a sort of trouser of

fine linen. Some of the Gallo-Roman ladies wore these garters or anklets

on the bare leg, as they wore bracelets on the arm.

Parasols, steel mirrors, fans—all these things were known to the

Gallo-Roman period. Perfumers were constantly making fresh discoveries,

and there were dentists who manufactured marvellous false teeth, so as

“to repair the irreparable injuries of Time.” Any defects in the face

were remedied by drugs of all kinds. The eyelids were stained in order to

give brilliancy to the eyes.

At least twenty women were in the service of each patrician lady, and the

latter always devoted much time and thought to her dress. These women

attired her with exceeding care; they were admirable hair-dressers, and

used pomatum profusely. One was the proud bearer of a parasol. A Roman

fashion, borrowed from the Egyptians, prescribed that slaves should

carry in silver or golden nets the amber and crystal balls used by their

mistresses.

With what grace and skill did these noble ladies twist and press the

crystal balls in their fingers at a public fête, or at the circus or

theatre! They subdued by this means the excessive warmth of their hands,

and secured a constant coolness. When the crystal ball became heated,

it was succeeded by one of amber, which as it warmed gave forth a most

delightful odour.

In like manner the fan offered opportunities for the Gallo-Roman ladies

to display all their grace and skill, and the fan has retained its place

down to our own time, while it has found an historian in M. Blondel, who

has published a very curious monograph on fans among ancient and modern

peoples.

The Gauls of both sexes had a patriotic love of their national costume,

which they would not discard even when travelling in Asia. Nevertheless,

they did not refuse to learn from their Roman conquerors, whose

advanced civilization took gradual hold of our ancestors, and ended by

metamorphosing them.

Did they borrow something from the costumes of the Vandals, Huns, Goths,

and Burgundians, from the various barbarians who appeared in succession

on the soil of Gaul? We may believe that they did, for the women who

accompanied those wild invaders must have left everywhere behind them

some trace of their passage. As they sat making their garments in their

tents, they must have inspired the Gallo-Roman women with a wish to

imitate this or that accessory of the toilet, so soon as the terror

caused by the presence of the soldiery had passed away. And though some

of these strangers wore only the skins of beasts, others were accustomed

to “the purple,” and to tissues from the East; some few combined Greek

elegance with Latin wealth, and were covered with valuable ornaments.

The Visigoths mingled with the peoples of Southern Gaul, and the women

were sufficiently civilized to be not unpleasing to the vanquished.

At Toulouse, where the Gothic kings had fixed their abode, a large and

splendid court, which was destined to exercise an undisputed sway during

many centuries, had risen round them.

The Burgundians, who had established themselves between the banks of

the Lake of Geneva and the confluence of the Moselle and the Rhine,

looked upon the Gallo-Romans not as subjects, but as brethren; nor did

their laws forbid marriage between themselves and the inhabitants of

a conquered country. They evidently followed more or less slowly the

progress of civilization in Gaul, and their manners and customs and even

their dress influenced and were influenced in their turn by those of the

inhabitants of the occupied country.

It may be that no history of the art of Dress will ever be verified by

the documents necessary for the accurate reconstruction of the details of

female costume from the first invasion of the barbarians until the last,

that of the Franks, of which we are now about to note the most striking

effects.

Such lapses are to be regretted, but they could not be filled up without

venturing on unfounded hypotheses or unsupported fancy. It is better to

restrict ourselves to the exact truth than to change the pen of history

for that of romance.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: GALLIC

GALLO-ROMAN

MEROVINGIAN

CARLOVINGIAN]

The history of fashion in France · 第 1 / 34 章