CHAPTER XV.

REIGN OF LOUIS XIV.

1643 TO 1705.

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.

A king who knows how to command now appears upon the scene. In his youth

Louis XIV. ruled over pleasure, in his old age over conscience.

But whether in youth, middle age, or at the close of life, Louis XIV.

could not dispense with a numerous company of courtiers of both sexes,

whom he attracted by means of fêtes and fashion, by continual amusements,

and by pleasures of every kind.

In 1650, Mme. Belot, the wife of a “Maître des requêtes,” first wore and

set the fashion of the “justaucorps,” which was like the “hongreline” of

former years, but shaped in some respects like a man’s pourpoint. As a

riding or hunting costume it was also adopted by the bourgeoises.

Scarfs came again into fashion in 1656. But some disbanded soldiers

amused themselves by wandering through the streets of Paris and snatching

those light garments from the shoulders of ladies passing by, on the

pretext that Louis XIV. had forbidden the wearing of them. A few of these

scoundrels were hanged, without ceremony, by the police.

During the Carnival of 1659, “the court,” says Mdlle. de Montpensier,

“only arrived at the beginning of February.... We often masqueraded in

most delightful fashion. On one occasion, Monsieur, Mdlle. de Villeroy,

Mdlle. de Gourdon, and I, wore cloth of silver with rose-coloured braid,

black velvet aprons, and stomachers trimmed with gold and silver lace.

Our dresses were cut like those of the Bresse peasants, with collars and

cuffs of yellow cloth in the same style, but of somewhat finer quality

than is used by them, and edged with Venetian lace. We had black velvet

hats entirely covered with flame-coloured, pink, and white feathers.

My bodice was laced up with pearls and fastened with diamonds, and

had diamonds all about it. Monsieur and Mdlle. de Villeroy also wore

diamonds, and Mdlle. de Gourdon emeralds. Our black hair was dressed in

the Bresse peasant style, and we carried flame-coloured crooks ornamented

with silver. For shepherds we had the Duc de Roquelaure, the Comte de

Guiche, Péquilain, and the Marquis de Villeroy, &c.”

In 1662, “pleasure and plenty were reigning at court; the courtiers lived

high and played high. Money was abundant, every purse open, and young men

got as much cash as they chose from the notaries. There was a constant

succession of feasts, dances, and entertainments.”

In 1664, Louis XIV. distributed presents of dress-stuffs to all his

courtiers, who were positively no longer free to dress as they liked.

After he had built the pavilion at Marly, every court lady found a

complete costume, and a quantity of the most exquisite lace, in her

wardrobe. And when by special favour the royal princes were allowed to

obtain embroidery in blue silk, it was officially reckoned among the

“benefits” received from the king.

Materials were magnificent! Gros de Naples was brocaded with gold leaves

and red, violet, or gold and silver flowers.

The “Mercure Galant” of the same year contained the following letter on

the fashions, addressed to a countess in the country:—

“As I am aware, madame, that your country neighbours are much interested

in the new fashions, I paid a visit lately to one of those ladies who can

only talk of skirts and finery....

“Dresses painted with figures and flowers are still worn, but there is

more green in the bouquets of flowers. They are beginning to paint the

finest linen, and this is quite a novelty, for all those we have seen

hitherto were only printed.

“Jet and enamel buttons are mentioned, watered ribbons, and square

watches with looking-glass at the back; but this last fashion does not

meet with approval, as it is thought the corners of the watch might be

dangerous.

“Net-work coifs were at first dotted, and afterwards open worked; this

last is quite a novelty, as are also the skirts of ‘point d’Angleterre,’

printed on linen and mounted on silk with raised ornaments; every woman

has bought some.”

Jewellery had a large sale: some in coloured glass, manufactured by a

clever artisan in the Temple, was called “Temple jewellery.”

Fashion now became a question of etiquette, and Louis XIV. was lawgiver.

The court obeyed every fancy of the sovereign, and the town followed

suit, as far as was possible, and more than was reasonable. Debts were

incurred for dress. A tailor made a claim of 300,000 francs on the great

Condé!

Men and women alike endeavoured to shine in dress. “At the royal

residences,” says Voltaire, “every lady found a complete suit of clothes

in readiness for her. A princess had but to appear in some striking

costume, and every lady of rank immediately endeavoured to imitate, even

to outshine her. The most extravagant sums were paid for dresses that

were continually renewed.” “Scarcely had one fashion usurped the place of

another,” says La Bruyère, “when it was succeeded by a third, which in

its turn was replaced by some still newer fashion, not by any means the

last.” Never had the refinements of Fashion been pushed so far.

The poverty of a great part of the population in the time of the Fronde

has been admitted. But Dubosc-Montandré, the author of a pamphlet called

“Le Tombeau du Sens Commun,” is of a different opinion, and exclaims in

1650: “If the people were poor, should we see neckerchiefs worth twenty

or thirty crowns on the wives of cooks? or liveried lacqueys carrying

a cushion behind their mistress, a mere shopkeeper’s wife? Should we

see milliners and butchers’ daughters wearing dresses worth 300 or 400

francs? or gold trimmings brought down so low as to adorn laundresses

withal? And is it not true that clothes ought to be infallible tokens by

which to distinguish rank and conditions in life, and that in the gardens

of the Luxembourg or the Tuileries we ought to have no difficulty in

distinguishing a duchess from a bookseller’s spouse, a marchioness from a

grocer’s wife, or a countess from a cook?”

Our author forgets that extravagance does not always indicate general

wealth, though it frequently casts suspicion on the moral tone of society.

On the one hand, the king signed edicts against extravagance, while on

the other he encouraged it by his splendid fêtes. The bourgeois alone

approved of edicts forbidding gold or silver-laced liveries, and fixing

a limit to the price of the handsomest materials. The edict of 1700

was followed by the publication of a print, underneath which was the

following distich:—

“A femme désolée mari joyeux ...

Trêve à la bourse du mari jusqu’à nouvelle mode.”[29]

A decree of the council, dated August 21, 1665, set forth that no woman,

single or married, should be admitted “marchande lingère,” unless she

professed the Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman faith.

Fifteen years later, a poet wrote the following lines:—

“On ne distingue plus nos dames

D’avecque le commun des femmes:

Dès qu’une personne d’honneur

Prend quelque juppe de couleur,

Ou dès qu’elle change de mode,

Enfin, dès qu’elle s’accommode

Dedans un estat éclatant,

Une bourgeoise en fait autant;

Elle s’ornera de panaches,

Et s’appliquera des moustaches,

Des postiches, des faux cheveux,

Des tours, des tresses et des nœuds,

Des coëffes demi-blanche ou jaune,

Où les toiles entrent par aune;

De ces beaux taffetas rayez,

Qui parfois ne sont pas payez,

Car souvent tant de braverie (coquetterie)

Cache beaucoup de gueuserie.”[30]

The above satirical and descriptive tirade may, perhaps, have annoyed the

belles of the day, but it did not reform them.

Law and criticism were alike in vain, and the history of dress, both

masculine and feminine, from the minority of Louis XIV. to the year 1715,

presents a variety of phases that reflect the successive changes at his

court.

When Marie Thérèse arrived in Paris in August, 1660, she was attired in

“a gown enriched with gold, pearls, and precious stones, and was adorned

with the most splendid of the crown jewels.”

A year afterwards, at a fête at Vaux, Mdlle. de la Vallière wore a white

gown, “with gold stars and leaves in Persian stitch, and a pale blue sash

tied in a large knot below the bosom. In her fair waving hair, falling

in profusion about her neck and shoulders, she wore flowers and pearls

mingled together. Two large emeralds shone in her ears.” Her arms were

bare, and encircled above the elbow by a gold open-work bracelet set with

opals. She wore gloves of cream-coloured Brussels lace.

“Langlée, director of the royal sports,” says Mme. de Sévigné, “gave to

Mme. de Montespan a gown of gold upon gold, embroidered in gold, bordered

with gold, above which was a band (frise) of gold, worked in gold mixed

with a particular kind of gold; and forming the most divine material that

can be conceived....”

All women, including the queen-mother, had made use of masks until the

year 1663.

This fashion passed away as political adventures gradually ceased. But

in 1695 it still prevailed. “With regard to ladies,” says the “Traité de

la Civilité,” published in Paris, “it is well to know that in addition

to the curtsey, they have other means, such as the mask, the coif, and

the gown, with which they can express respect; for it is reckoned uncivil

for a lady to enter the room of a person deserving of consideration

with dress tucked up, face masked, and coif on head, unless the coif

be transparent. It is an incivility also to keep on her mask in any

place where a person of eminent rank is present, by whom she might be

perceived, except when in a coach with such person. It is uncivil to keep

on the mask when curtseying to any one, unless from afar off; and even

then it must be removed for a royal personage.”

The above rules show how greatly the mask had been in use.

In 1668, women of rank always wore an under-skirt of watered or glacé

satin, with an over-skirt trailing behind, and carried over the left

arm. Sleeves were puffed, and trimmed with lace and ribbon, and scarcely

covered half the arm. They were not slashed. The bodice reaching to the

hips, and fitting tightly to the waist, ended in a point. The under-skirt

had a double border of gold and silk embroidery, while the upper one had

but a single border, like the Greek and Roman tunics.

Here and there on the bodice were trimmings of gimp and ribbon, and a

lace collerette covered the shoulders and chest.

Women generally wore pearl necklaces. Cuffs held an important place in a

carefully arranged toilet. “I have been told,” writes Furetière, “that

the wife of President Tambonneau takes a whole hour to put on her cuffs.”

Knots of ribbon were placed everywhere among lace edgings. When arranged

in tiers each side of the busk in front, they were called “échelles,” or

ladders.

On one occasion Mme. de la Reynie’s “ladders” were being spoken of with

admiration before Mme. Cornuel, who replied somewhat maliciously: “I

wonder she does not wear a gibbet as well.” M. de la Reynie was Chief of

the Police.

Ornaments of ribbon and chenille succeeded to “ladders.” Buttons were

fixed on braid or chenille, and corresponded with “freluches” or

“fanfreluches,” that is, with tufts of silk.

“Transparents” came into fashion in 1676. “Have you heard of

‘transparents’?” writes Mme. de Sévigné. “They are complete dresses

of the very finest gold or azure brocade, and over them is worn a

transparent black gown, or a gown of beautiful English lace, or of

chenille velvet, like that winter lace that you saw. These form a

‘transparent,’ which is a black dress and a gold, silver, or coloured

dress, just as one likes, and this is the fashion.”

The black lace worn on skirts was called “quilles d’Angleterre.”

Colbert encouraged the manufacture of lace. By an edict of August 5,

1665, “a manufactory of French lace” was established on a liberal basis

at the Hôtel de Beaufort, in Paris. The towns designated as the cradles

of this valuable art were Arras, Quesnoy, Sedan, Château-Thierry, Loudun,

Aurillac, and above all, Alençon. The commoner kinds of lace hitherto

manufactured in Paris, Lyons, Normandy, and Auvergne, no longer sufficed

for the popular taste.

The finer sorts were also made subsequently at Valenciennes, Lille,

Dieppe, Hâvre, Honfleur, Pont-l’Evêque, Caen, Gisors, Fécamp, Le Puy, and

the Bois de Boulogne.

French lace vied with that of foreign manufacture, including Brussels and

Mechlin.

Colbert eagerly secured the services of a lady at Alençon, named Gilbert,

who knew the Venetian lace-stitch, and directed her to set up a factory

at Alençon.

Lace called “gueuse” and “neigeuse” was bought by persons of small

means,—other kinds, of marvellous beauty, could only be compassed by

women of fortune.

The fine ladies of the seventeenth century, like those of the sixteenth,

had their gowns made by men, viz. a certain Renaud, living opposite

the Hôtel d’Aligre; a Sieur Villeneuve, near the Place des Victoires;

Lallemand, Rue St. Martin; Le Brun, Le Maire and Bonjuste, all of the Rue

de Grenelle; and lastly, Chalandat, Rue de l’Arbre-Sec.

As real pearls were very costly, a Frenchman, named Jacquin, invented

a substitute for them in the century of which we are treating. He had

observed that the water in which small fish called “ablettes” (whitebait)

were washed, contained a quantity of bright and silvery particles, and

by filling hollow blown glass beads with this sediment, he succeeded in

producing an admirable imitation. But about twenty thousand whitebait

were required to supply one pound of essence of pearls!

Silks of every kind were manufactured at Lyons, and a workman employed

there succeeded in producing them with a bright lustrous finish; the

process is called “donner eau.”

The silkworm whose silk is a perfect white was now about to be introduced

into France.

The first period of feminine dress under Louis XIV. was chiefly

remarkable for its monumental head-dresses.

The Sieur Champagne, by reason of his skill, and also of the value he

contrived to confer on himself, was in great demand by all the fine

ladies of the time.

“Their foolish behaviour made him quite insupportable, and he made the

most impertinent remarks to them; some ladies he would leave with their

hair half dressed.” Maître Adam petulantly exclaims:—

“J’enrage quand je vois Champagne

Porter la main à vos cheveux.”[31]

It was on this account, perhaps, that many of the most refined women

of fashion preferred female hair-dressers, some of whom were widely

celebrated, viz. “Mesdemoiselles Canillat, Place du Palais Royal;

D’Angerville, in the same neighbourhood; De Gomberville, Rue des

Bons-Enfants; Le Brun, at the Palais; and Poitier, near the Hospice des

Quinze-Vingts.” They were all wives of wig-makers.

The hair was dressed “à la Ninon,” carefully parted in front and flowing

in loose ringlets, and partly concealed at the back by a white gauze veil.

An “appretador,” consisting of a row of diamonds or string of pearls, was

sometimes mixed with the hair; or twists of hair of various colours, and

“postiches” or false hair.

At the time of the marriage of the Duke of Orleans with the Princesse

Palatine (1671), the fashionable style of hair was called “hurlupée”

or “hurluberlu.” Mme. de Sévigné thought it most extraordinary.

“I was greatly amused at the head-dresses,” she says, “and felt

inclined to give a slap to some of them.” The word “hurluberlu” meant

inconsiderate, brusque, thoughtless. Certain ladies were blamed for being

“hurluberlu.”[32]

Mme. de Sévigné afterwards changed her mind.

A female hair-dresser named Martin, who succeeded to the favour accorded

to Champagne, introduced a fashion that was very becoming to some faces.

The hair on each side was cut in graduated lengths, and hung in thick

curls, the longest not falling much lower than the ear. Ribbons were

fixed into it in the usual way, and a large curl drooped on the neck.

The “hurluberlu” developed into many varieties, among others into

“paresseuses,” the false wigs or long ringlets that fine ladies put on in

their dressing-rooms on rising.

When Mme. de Montespan was at the height of favour, “she wore point

de France, and her hair in numberless curls, one on each side of the

temples, falling low on her cheeks. Black ribbons in her hair, pearls

which had belonged to the Maréchale de l’Hôpital, and buckles and

ear-drops of magnificent diamonds. Three or four hair-bodkins; no

coif....”

On the whole the seventeenth century was prolific in pretty head-dresses.

When the head was dressed “à la garçon,” a parting was made horizontally

along the forehead, a few little curls waving loose, while all the rest

of the hair was drawn up, and cut short on the neck. Mme. de Sévigné

advised Mme. de Grignan to adopt the above style, somewhat modified: “the

hair knotted low at the back of the head, so as not to conceal either its

purity of outline or its harmonious proportions; the short undergrowth of

hair in light curls on the forehead gives piquancy to the physiognomy,

while showers of filmy ringlets on the temples add softness to the

expression.”

For two years “le faire brelander” was in fashion, that is, the hair was

cut short and curled. On the other hand, Nanteuil, the famous engraver,

has bequeathed to us portraits of women with most luxuriant hair; long

ringlets mixed with pearls rise from the crown of the head, and fall down

on either side.

The “capeline” of the seventeenth century was a hat worn by ladies when

hunting, or at a ball or masquerade. It was generally made of straw, with

a deep brim lined with silk or satin, and was covered with feathers.

Sometimes it was merely a velvet cap, trimmed with feathers of no great

value.

Long ringlets were called “moustaches.” “Women wore curled moustaches

hanging down over the cheeks, and reaching to the bosom. Servants and

bourgeoises met with great disfavour when they wore moustaches like young

ladies.”

From the time of the Fronde, many Frenchwomen had continued very partial

to patches. A poet, writing under the name of “La Bonne Faiseuse,” says:—

“Tel galant qui vous fait la nique,

S’il n’est pris aujourd’hui, s’y trouve pris demain;

Qu’il soit indifférent ou qu’il fasse le vain,

A la fin la _mouche_ le pique.”[33]

In the “Adresses de Paris” (1691), De Pradel informs us that “The best

patch-maker lives in the Rue St. Denis, at the sign of ‘La Perle des

Mouches.’”

La Fontaine tells us in verse the use of patches. He puts the following

lines into the mouth of an ant:—

“Je rehausse d’un teint la blancheur naturelle,

Et la dernière main que met à sa beauté

Une femme allant en conquête,

C’est un ajustement des _mouches_ emprunté.”[34]

As a little fanciful adjunct, ladies wore “palatines” of white gauze, or

of English point or French lace in summer, and miniver in winter. They

were so called after Charlotte Elizabeth of Bavaria, daughter of the

Elector Palatine, and second wife of Monsieur, who was the first to make

use of them, in order, it is said, to avoid the immodesty of exposing her

shoulders and bosom.

She was called by the courtiers “toute d’une pièce,” on account of

her frankness and worth, but the “palatine” was her only success at

Versailles.

Until the reign of Louis XIV., leather gloves had been worn by men only,

and resembled the war-gauntlets of the ancient monarchy; but during his

reign women displayed the beauty of their hands by wearing either kid

gloves reaching to the upper arm, or long mittens in netted silk; while

charming pink or blue satin slippers, with rosettes on the instep, clad

their feet. “This reminds me,” says Tallemant, “of some of the queen’s

ladies, who, that they might wear pretty shoes, tightly bound their feet

with bands of their hair, and fainted from pain in the queen’s room.”

High heels soon made their appearance, and continued increasing in height

until heels of eight centimètres were considered quite an ordinary size.

François Colletet exclaims in “Les Tracas de Paris:”—

“Mais considère leur patin

Qui d’un demi-pied les élève.”[35]

And Regnard:—

“Lise veut être grande en dépit de nature.”[36]

While Voltaire adds, more recently:—

“Vous aurez maussades actrices,

Moitié femme et moitié patin.”[37]

Among the best shoemakers for ladies were Raveneau, Rue des Cordeliers;

Vernon, Couteaux, Gaborry, Rue des Fossés-St.-Germain; Bisbot, Rue

Dauphine; Sulphour, Rue St. Sévérin. The shoemaker Des Noyers, Rue St.

Anne, only made “very neat shoes,” and charged a gold louis for them,

from which we may conclude that those of a more elegant sort were

excessively dear.

The tight stays, so injurious to health, were adopted by the ladies of

the seventeenth century, and to conceal the discomfort occasioned by

them, fans were in constant use; these were beautifully painted and

mounted in wood, mother-of-pearl, ivory, steel, or gold.

In 1656, Christina of Sweden, while journeying through France, astonished

everybody by her eccentricities and the strangeness of her dress. Some

French ladies asked her opinion as to whether they should use fans in

summer as well as in winter.

The Queen of Sweden replied, somewhat coarsely,—

“I think not; you are windy enough as you are.”

But they used their fans in summer, Christina’s advice notwithstanding.

They also carried a sweet lemon in the left hand, and occasionally set

their teeth in it, so as to redden their lips.

From 1660 to 1680 there was little material alteration in feminine

attire. There were, however, a few changes in minor details. The long

pointed bodices, the short sleeves, and the full skirts tucked up over

narrower petticoats, remained in fashion. Scarfs reappeared frequently.

Masks had not been given up; and muffs, that were very generally worn,

often served to carry about little dogs. “Dog-muffs” were sold in the

shops.

An unexpected variation took place in head-dresses. The Duchesse de

Fontanges was present at one of the royal hunting parties, when a gust

of wind blew her head-dress aside; she tied it in its place with her

ribbon-garters, the ends falling over her forehead. Louis XIV. was

delighted with this curious, improvised, and, so to speak, historical

invention, which was due to a mere chance. It was consequently adopted

by the ladies of the court, in the first instance, and afterwards by the

Parisian bourgeoises, under the name of “coiffure à la Fontanges.”

Imagine a framework of cap-wire, at least half a yard in height, divided

into several tiers, and covered with bands of muslin, ribbons, chenille,

pearls, flowers, aigrettes, &c.

Each separate part of the wondrous structure had its own appellation,

viz. the solitary one, the duke, the duchess, the Capuchin, the cabbage,

the asparagus, the cat, the organ-pipe, the first or second sky, and the

mouse. The last named was a little bow of nonpareil, fixed in the mass of

frizzed hair that was arranged below the curled “fontange.”

“Une palissade de fer

Soutient la superbe structure

Des hauts rayons d’une coiffure;

Tel, au temps de calme sur mer,

Un vaisseau porte sa mâture.”[38]

“If a woman only moves, the edifice trembles and seems about to fall.”

But neither the difficulty of their construction, nor the care required

for their preservation, prevented women from wearing these things.

Yet the king disapproved, and for a few months after the death of Mme.

de Fontanges the ladies of the court submitted to his taste, after that

interval they followed their own.

For thirty years those gigantic “heads” held their place at Versailles,

under the eyes of the old monarch who “protested in vain against towering

head-dresses.”

There were “tignons,” or “torsades,” in many plaits, to annoy his

majesty; there was the “passagère,” a bunch of curls on the temples;

the “favorite,” a cluster falling on the cheek; “cruches,” little curls

on the fore part of the head; “confidants,” still smaller ones near the

ears; and “crève-cœurs,” two curls on the nape of the neck.

Each day brought forth some new complication. When was a limit to be

reached?

Two English ladies, with their hair worn low, having been presented

at the Versailles court in 1714, Louis XIV. said to the wives of his

courtiers,—

“If Frenchwomen were reasonable beings, they would at once give up their

ridiculous head-dresses, and wear their hair in the English fashion.”

Notwithstanding their spirit of insubordination, how could the court

ladies bear to be called “ridiculous,” especially by their king?

They went from one extreme to the other; and the desire to imitate the

English ladies induced them to do that which the king’s authority had

failed to obtain from them. They very soon made their appearance in the

king’s “circle” with their hair dressed low. The poet Chaulieu mentions

the fact:—

“Paris cède à la mode et change ses parures;

Ce peuple imitateur et singe de la cour

A commencé depuis un jour

D’humilier enfin l’orgueil de ses coiffures.”[39]

Besides the stars of Versailles, Mdlle. de la Vallière, Mme. de

Fontanges, and Mme. de Maintenon, there shone also, and not always with

the approbation of the sovereign, the stars of the Paris stage. The

influence of actresses was increasing. “All the mantles now made for

women,” says “Le Mercure Galant” in 1673, “are no longer plaited, but

quite plain, so that the figure is better shown off. They are called

mantles “à la Sylvie,” although invented by Mdlle. de Molière, but they

are named after a book called ‘La Sylvie de Molière.’ Those, however, who

have read the book, know well enough that it was not his story.” Mdlle.

de Molière composed most splendid costumes for herself.

After the representation of _Esther_ in 1689, the fashions suddenly

changed. The Ninon and Montespan styles had lasted until the year of

the famous jubilee of 1676. “In the early and doubtful dawn of Mme. de

Maintenon’s career,” says J. Michelet, “and especially in those equivocal

years preceding her marriage, she had adopted a head-dress which was

at once coquettish and devout, which in part concealed, and in part

displayed, the scarf she had bestowed on the ladies of St. Cyr, and which

had been imitated by all. After _Esther_, the scarf was put aside, and

the face boldly exposed. The head-dress was raised higher and higher in

various ways, and resembled a mitre or a Persian tiara. Gigantic combs

were worn, or towers or spires of lace, and, later, a scaffolding of

hair; or the diadem-cap adopted by Mme. de Maintenon, the helmet cap,

or dragoon’s crest, with which the more audacious beauties (like Mme.

la Duchesse) adorned their bolder charms. Her portraits, and those of

De Caylus, are the prettiest of the time, and seem to be the types of

Fashion.”

The battle of Steinkirk, in which the Prince of Orange was defeated, was

commemorated in women’s dress. They wore “Steinkirk” ties, or kerchiefs,

twisted round the throat with studied and graceful negligence. This was

in honour of the French officers, who, taken by surprise, had only time

to throw their cravats about their necks, rush out on the English, and

defeat them. Mdlle. Marthe le Rochois, a singer of the day, had set

the fashion by loosely tying on a cravat over her stage dress in the

opera of _Thétis et Pelée_. This was a delicate compliment, and it was

appreciated and copied.

All novelties in jewellery were “à la Steinkirk.” The fashion of the

cravats did not last long, but was revived later in the shape of

“fichus,” or three-cornered silk neckerchiefs, trimmed with lace, gold

fringe, or gold and silver thread.

Another fashion was derived from war. “Crémonas,” or light trimmings

either puffed or plaited, and sewn to both edges of a ribbon, made their

appearance in 1702. They were intended to commemorate Prince Eugène’s

entry into Cremona, where the Maréchal de Villeroi was made prisoner.

In 1684, women still wore under-skirts trimmed with “falbalas” or bands

of plaitings, or puffs either placed high up or low down on the skirt—and

upper gowns with long trains, like those of 1668; but the bodice of the

same colour as the train, was made with a small basque cut away in front.

It was half open, and disclosed a braided stomacher, above which was a

chemisette of fine muslin or lace, or a “follette,” a very light kind of

fichu.

Sleeves were no longer puffed, but were worn close fitting, with a lace

frill.

Rosettes in satin ribbon were out of fashion. “Amadis” sleeves were seen

for the first time in the stage dresses of _Amadis des Gaules_, an opera,

of which the music was by Lulli, and the words were by Quinault. They had

been designed by the Chevalier Bernin for Mdlle. le Rochois, in order to

conceal the ugliness of her arms.

Half dress, or “négligé,” consisted of a black gown, black adjuncts, and

a white apron. Widows dressed in white.

Another kind of sleeve, covering the arm, was called the “Jansenist,”

in allusion to the severe morals of the Port Royalists, who were always

warring against insufficient or light clothing.

The hair was dressed in artistically arranged curls, beneath a coif of

moderate height, not unlike a hollow toque, generally speaking goffered,

and made either of starched muslin or magnificent lace.

There were many sorts of caps, with hanging lappets, or one lappet or

“jardinière.” Wasps or butterflies made of brilliants, says Boursault,—

“Paraissaient voltiger dans les cheveux des dames.”[40]

There was also a fashionable head-dress, placed at the back of the head,

and showing the ear; this was called the “effrontée,” or “barefaced.”

The costume was completed by a necklace, the inevitable fan, and the

high-heeled shoes that are characteristic of a whole epoch in dress.

On the occasion of the betrothal of the daughter of Monsieur with the Duc

de Lorraine, the Duchesse de Bourgogne wore on the first day a gown of

silver tissue, with gold flowers, touched with a little flame-colour and

green, and in her hair the finest of the crown diamonds. The next day her

gown was of grey damask, with silver flowers, and she wore diamonds and

emeralds. Mademoiselle wore a coat of gros de Tours richly embroidered in

gold; her skirt, of silver tissue, was embroidered in gold touched with

flame-colour. She wore a splendid set of diamonds, and a mantle of gold

point d’Espagne, six yards and a half long, and her train was carried by

the Grand Duchess. Another time her coat and skirt were both of cloth of

silver, all laced with silver. Her jewels were diamonds and rubies.

“Towards 1700,” says Michelet, “the women of the time no longer show the

classic features of a Ninon, or a Montespan, nor the rich development

that they so freely displayed. But the devil was no loser. If backs and

shoulders are concealed from our gaze, the small portion that we are

permitted to admire, and that is, as it were, offered to our inspection,

is but the more attractive. There is a sort of audacity about the

uncovered brow, the hair drawn back so as to show its every root, the

high comb, or diadem-cap, that seems little in harmony with the soft and

childish features of the day. This childishness, so devoid of innocence,

combined with the masculine Steinkirk, gives them the appearance of pets

of the seraglio, or of impudent pages who have stolen women’s garments.”

For a long time the artist Mignard enjoyed the pleasant monopoly of

painting portraits of the court ladies, and these Madonnas of his

were so completely the rage, that the Versailles ladies wished to be

distinguished by their “mignarde” faces; they endeavoured to obtain

“mignardise” of expression, they smiled “mignardement,” and put on little

“mignard” affectations. The word became part of our language, and was

used with great frequency in the complimentary talk addressed to women.

Mignard was succeeded by a painter called Largillière; and “mignardise”

began to give way to a colder and simpler style, though still somewhat

tinged with affectation. Mme. de Maintenon on one occasion wore a gown

of dead-leaf damask, quite plain, a head-dress “en battant l’œil,” and a

cross composed of four diamonds on her neck—a cross à la Maintenon. The

_quasi_-queen having thus set the fashion of veils and grim coifs, all

her faithful followers looked like heaps of black and sombre materials.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: Louis XIV 1668 to 1694

Louis XV 1720 to 1760]

The history of fashion in France · 第 15 / 34 章