A volume on this subject might be made very curious and entertaining,
for our ancestors were not less vacillating, and perhaps more
capriciously grotesque, though with infinitely less taste, than the
present generation. Were a philosopher and an artist, as well as an
antiquary, to compose such a work, much diversified entertainment, and
some curious investigation of the progress of the arts and taste, would
doubtless be the result; the subject otherwise appears of trifling
value; the very farthing pieces of history.
The origin of many fashions was in the endeavour to conceal some
deformity of the inventor: hence the cushions, ruffs, hoops, and other
monstrous devices. If a reigning beauty chanced to have an unequal hip,
those who had very handsome hips would load them with that false rump
which the other was compelled by the unkindness of nature to substitute.
Patches were invented in England in the reign of Edward VI. by a foreign
lady, who in this manner ingeniously covered a wen on her neck.
Full-bottomed wigs were invented by a French barber, one Duviller, whose
name they perpetuated, for the purpose of concealing an elevation in the
shoulder of the Dauphin. Charles VII. of France introduced long coats to
hide his ill-made legs. Shoes with very long points, full two feet in
length, were invented by Henry Plantagenet, Duke of Anjou, to conceal a
large excrescence on one of his feet. When Francis I. was obliged to
wear his hair short, owing to a wound he received in the head, it became
a prevailing fashion at court. Others, on the contrary, adapted fashions
to set off their peculiar beauties: as Isabella of Bavaria, remarkable
for her gallantry, and the fairness of her complexion, introduced the
fashion of leaving the shoulders and part of the neck uncovered.
Fashions have frequently originated from circumstances as silly as the
following one. Isabella, daughter of Philip II. and wife of the Archduke
Albert, vowed not to change her linen till Ostend was taken; this siege,
unluckily for her comfort, lasted three years; and the supposed colour
of the archduchess's linen gave rise to a fashionable colour, hence
called _l'Isabeau_, or the Isabella; a kind of whitish-yellow-dingy.
Sometimes they originate in some temporary event; as after the battle of
Steenkirk, where the allies wore large cravats, by which the French
frequently seized hold of them, a circumstance perpetuated on the medals
of Louis XIV., cravats were called Steenkirks; and after the battle of
Ramilies, wigs received that denomination.
The _court_, in all ages and in every country, are the modellers of
fashions; so that all the ridicule, of which these are so susceptible,
must fall on them, and not upon their servile imitators the _citizens_.
This complaint is made even so far back as in 1586, by Jean des Caures,
an old French moralist, who, in declaiming against the fashions of his
day, notices one, of the ladies carrying _mirrors fixed to their
waists_, which seemed to employ their eyes in perpetual activity. From
this mode will result, according to honest Des Caures, their eternal
damnation. "Alas! (he exclaims) in what an age do we live: to see such
depravity which we see, that induces them even to bring into church
these _scandalous mirrors hanging about their waists_! Let all
histories, divine, human, and profane, be consulted; never will it be
found that these objects of vanity were ever thus brought into public by
the most meretricious of the sex. It is true, at present none but the
ladies of the court venture to wear them; but long it will not be before
_every citizen's daughter_ and every _female servant_, will have them!"
Such in all times has been the rise and decline of fashion; and the
absurd mimicry of the _citizens_, even of the lowest classes, to their
very ruin, in straining to rival the _newest fashion_, has mortified and
galled the courtier.
On this subject old Camden, in his Remains, relates a story of a trick
played off on a citizen, which I give in the plainness of his own
venerable style. Sir Philip Calthrop purged John Drakes, the _shoemaker
of Norwich_, in the time of King Henry VIII. of the _proud humour_ which
our _people have to be of the gentlemen's cut_. This knight bought on a
time as much fine French tawny cloth as should make him a gown, and sent
it to the taylor's to be made. John Drakes, a shoemaker of that town,
coming to this said taylor's, and seeing the knight's gown cloth lying
there, liking it well, caused the taylor to buy him as much of the same
cloth and price to the same intent, and further bade him to _make it of
the same fashion that the knight would have his made of_. Not long
after, the knight coming to the taylor's to take measure of his gown,
perceiving the like cloth lying there, asked of the taylor whose it was?
Quoth the taylor, it is John Drakes' the _shoemaker_, who will have it
_made of the self-same fashion that yours is made of_! 'Well!' said the
knight, 'in good time be it! I will have mine made _as full of cuts as
thy shears can make it_.' 'It shall be done!' said the taylor;
whereupon, because the time drew near, he made haste to finish both
their garments. John Drakes had no time to go to the taylor's till
Christmas-day, for serving his customers, when he hoped to have worn his
gown; perceiving the same to be _full of cuts_ began to swear at the
taylor, for the making his gown after that sort. 'I have done nothing,'
quoth the taylor, 'but that you bid me; for as Sir Philip Calthrop's
garment is, even so I have made yours!' 'By my latchet!' quoth John
Drakes, '_I will never wear gentlemen's fashions again_!'
Sometimes fashions are quite reversed in their use in one age from
another. Bags, when first in fashion in France, were only worn _en
déshabillé_; in visits of ceremony, the hair was tied by a riband and
floated over the shoulders, which is exactly reversed in the present
fashion. In the year 1735 the men had no hats but a little chapeau de
bras; in 1745 they wore a very small hat; in 1755 they wore an enormous
one, as may be seen in Jeffrey's curious "Collection of Habits in all
Nations." Old Puttenham, in "The Art of Poesie," p. 239, on the present
topic gives some curious information. "Henry VIII. caused his own head,
and all his courtiers, to be _polled_ and his _beard_ to be _cut short_;
_before that time_ it was thought _more decent_, both for old men and
young, to be _all shaven_, and weare _long haire_, either rounded or
square. Now _again at this time_ (Elizabeth's reign), the young
gentlemen of the court have _taken up the long haire_ trayling on their
shoulders, and think this more decent; for what respect I would be glad
to know."
When the fair sex were accustomed to behold their lovers with beards,
the sight of a shaved chin excited feelings of horror and aversion; as
much indeed as, in this less heroic age, would a gallant whose luxuriant
beard should
"Stream like a meteor to the troubled air."
When Louis VII., to obey the injunctions of his bishops, cropped his
hair, and shaved his beard, Eleanor, his consort, found him, with this
unusual appearance, very ridiculous, and soon very contemptible. She
revenged herself as she thought proper, and the poor shaved king
obtained a divorce. She then married the Count of Anjou, afterwards our
Henry II. She had for her marriage dower the rich provinces of Poitou
and Guienne; and this was the origin of those wars which for three
hundred years ravaged France, and cost the French three millions of men.
All which, probably, had never occurred had Louis VII. not been so rash
as to crop his head and shave his beard, by which he became so
disgustful in the eyes of our Queen Eleanor.
We cannot perhaps sympathise with the feelings of her majesty, though at
Constantinople she might not have been considered unreasonable. There
must be something more powerful in _beards_ and _mustachios_ than we are
quite aware of; for when these were in fashion--and long after this was
written--the fashion has returned on us--with what enthusiasm were they
not contemplated! When _mustachios_ were in general use, an author, in
his Elements of Education, published in 1640, thinks that "hairy
excrement," as Armado in "Love's Labour Lost" calls it, contributed to
make men valorous. He says, "I have a favourable opinion of that young
gentleman who is _curious in fine mustachios_. The time he employs in
adjusting, dressing, and curling them, is no lost time; for the more he
contemplates his mustachios, the more his mind will cherish and be
animated by masculine and courageous notions." The best reason that
could be given for wearing the _longest and largest beard_ of any
Englishman was that of a worthy clergyman in Elizabeth's reign, "that no
act of his life might be unworthy of the gravity of his appearance."
The grandfather of Mrs. Thomas, the Corinna of Cromwell, the literary
friend of Pope, by her account, "was very nice in the mode of that age,
his valet being some hours every morning in _starching his beard_ and
_curling his whiskers_; during which time he was always read to."
Taylor, the water poet, humorously describes the great variety of beards
in his time, which extract may be found in Grey's Hudibras, Vol. I. p.
300. The _beard_ dwindled gradually under the two Charleses, till it was
reduced into _whiskers_, and became extinct in the reign of James II.,
as if its fatality had been connected with that of the house of Stuart.
The hair has in all ages been an endless topic for the declamation of
the moralist, and the favourite object of fashion. If the _beau monde_
wore their hair luxuriant, or their wig enormous, the preachers, in
Charles the Second's reign, instantly were seen in the pulpit with their
hair cut shorter, and their sermon longer, in consequence; respect was,
however, paid by the world to the size of the _wig_, in spite of the
_hair-cutter_ in the pulpit. Our judges, and till lately our physicians,
well knew its magical effect. In the reign of Charles II. the
hair-dress of the ladies was very elaborate; it was not only curled and
frizzled with the nicest art, but set off with certain artificial curls,
then too emphatically known by the pathetic terms of _heart-breakers_
and _love-locks_. So late as William and Mary, lads, and even children,
wore wigs; and if they had not wigs, they curled their hair to resemble
this fashionable ornament. Women then were the hair-dressers.
There are flagrant follies in fashion which must be endured while they
reign, and which never appear ridiculous till they are out of fashion.
In the reign of Henry III. of France, they could not exist without an
abundant use of comfits. All the world, the grave and the gay, carried
in their pockets a _comfit-box_, as we do snuff-boxes. They used them
even on the most solemn occasions; when the Duke of Guise was shot at
Blois, he was found with his comfit-box in his hand.--Fashions indeed
have been carried to so extravagant a length, as to have become a public
offence, and to have required the interference of government. Short and
tight breeches were so much the rage in France, that Charles V. was
compelled to banish this disgusting mode by edicts, which may be found
in Mezerai. An Italian author of the fifteenth century supposes an
Italian traveller of nice modesty would not pass through France, that he
might not be offended by seeing men whose clothes rather exposed their
nakedness than hid it. The very same fashion was the complaint in the
remoter period of our Chaucer, in his Parson's Tale.
In the reign of our Elizabeth the reverse of all this took place; then
the mode of enormous breeches was pushed to a most laughable excess. The
beaux of that day stuffed out their breeches with rags, feathers, and
other light matters, till they brought them out to an enormous size.
They resembled woolsacks, and in a public spectacle they were obliged to
raise scaffolds for the seats of these ponderous beaux. To accord with
this fantastical taste, the ladies invented large hoop farthingales; two
lovers aside could surely never have taken one another by the hand. In a
preceding reign the fashion ran on square toes; insomuch that a
proclamation was issued that no person should wear shoes above six
inches square at the toes! Then succeeded picked-pointed shoes! The
nation was again, in the reign of Elizabeth, put under the royal
authority. "In that time," says honest John Stowe, "he was held the
greatest gallant that had the _deepest ruff_ and _longest rapier_: the
offence to the eye of the one, and hurt unto the life of the subject
that came by the other--this caused her Majestie to _make proclamation
against them both_, and to _place selected grave citizens at every gate,
to cut the ruffes, and breake the rapiers' points_ of all passengers
that exceeded a yeard in length of their rapiers, and a nayle of a yeard
in depth of their ruffes." These "grave citizens," at every gate cutting
the ruffs and breaking the rapiers, must doubtless have encountered in
their ludicrous employment some stubborn opposition; but this regulation
was, in the spirit of that age, despotic and effectual. Paul, the
Emperor of Russia, one day ordered the soldiers to stop every passenger
who wore pantaloons, and with their hangers to cut off, upon the leg,
the offending part of these superfluous breeches; so that a man's legs
depended greatly on the adroitness and humanity of a Russ or a Cossack;
however this war against _pantaloons_ was very successful, and obtained
a complete triumph in favour of the _breeches_ in the course of the
week.
A shameful extravagance in dress has been a most venerable folly. In the
reign of Richard II. their dress was sumptuous beyond belief. Sir John
Arundel had a change of no less than fifty-two new suits of cloth of
gold tissue. The prelates indulged in all the ostentatious luxury of
dress. Chaucer says, they had "chaunge of clothing everie daie."
Brantome records of Elizabeth, Queen of Philip II. of Spain, that she
never wore a gown twice; this was told him by her majesty's own
_tailleur_, who from a poor man soon became as rich as any one he knew.
Our own Elizabeth left no less than three thousand different habits in
her wardrobe when she died. She was possessed of the dresses of all
countries.
The catholic religion has ever considered the pomp of the clerical habit
as not the slightest part of its religious ceremonies; their devotion is
addressed to the eye of the people. In the reign of our catholic Queen
Mary, the dress of a priest was costly indeed; and the sarcastic and
good-humoured Fuller gives, in his Worthies, the will of a priest, to
show the wardrobe of men of his order, and desires that the priest may
not be jeered for the gallantry of his splendid apparel. He bequeaths to
various parish churches and persons, "My vestment of crimson satin--my
vestment of crimson velvet--my stole and fanon set with pearl--my black
gown faced with taffeta," &c.
Chaucer has minutely detailed in "The Persone's Tale" the grotesque and
the costly fashions of his day; and the simplicity of the venerable
satirist will interest the antiquary and the philosopher. Much, and
curiously, has his caustic severity or lenient humour descanted on the
"moche superfluitee," and "wast of cloth in vanitee," as well as "the
disordinate scantnesse." In the spirit of the good old times, he
calculates "the coste of the embrouding or embroidering; endenting or
barring; ounding or wavy; paling or imitating pales; and winding or
bending; the costlewe furring in the gounes; so much pounsoning of
chesel to maken holes (that is, punched with a bodkin); so moche dagging
of sheres (cutting into slips); with the superfluitee in length of the
gounes trailing in the dong and in the myre, on horse and eke on foot,
as wel of man as of woman--that all thilke trailing," he verily
believes, which wastes, consumes, wears threadbare, and is rotten with
dung, are all to the damage of "the poor folk," who might be clothed
only out of the flounces and draggle-tails of these children of vanity.
But then his Parson is not less bitter against "the horrible disordinat
scantnesse of clothing," and very copiously he describes, though perhaps
in terms and with a humour too coarse for me to transcribe, the
consequences of these very tight dresses. Of these persons, among other
offensive matters, he sees "the buttokkes behind, as if they were the
hinder part of a sheap, in the ful of the mone." He notices one of the
most grotesque modes, the wearing a parti-coloured dress; one stocking
part white and part red, so that they looked as if they had been flayed.
Or white and blue, or white and black, or black and red; this variety of
colours gave an appearance to their members of St. Anthony's fire, or
cancer, or other mischance!
The modes of dress during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries were
so various and ridiculous, that they afforded perpetual food for the
eager satirist.
The conquests of Edward III. introduced the French fashions into
England; and the Scotch adopted them by their alliance with the French
court, and close intercourse with that nation.
Walsingham dates the introduction of French fashions among us from the
taking of Calais in 1347; but we appear to have possessed such a rage
for imitation in dress, that an English beau was actually a fantastical
compound of all the fashions in Europe, and even Asia, in the reign of
Elizabeth. In Chaucer's time, the prevalence of French fashions was a
common topic with our satirist; and he notices the affectation of our
female citizens in speaking the French language, a stroke of satire
which, after four centuries, is not obsolete, if applied to their faulty
pronunciation. In the prologue to the Prioresse, Chaucer has these
humorous lines:--
Entewned in her voice full seemly,
And French she spake full feteously,
_After the Scole of Stratford at Bowe_:
The _French of Paris_ was to her unknowe.
A beau of the reign of Henry IV. has been made out, by the laborious
Henry. They wore then long-pointed shoes to such an immoderate length,
that they could not walk till they were fastened to their knees with
chains. Luxury improving on this ridiculous mode, these chains the
English beau of the fourteenth century had made of gold and silver; but
the grotesque fashion did not finish here, for the tops of their shoes
were carved in the manner of a church window. The ladies of that period
were not less fantastical.
The wild variety of dresses worn in the reign of Henry VIII. is alluded
to in a print of a naked Englishman holding a piece of cloth hanging on
his right arm, and a pair of shears in his left hand. It was invented by
Andrew Borde, a learned wit of those days. The print bears the following
inscription:--
I am an Englishman, and naked I stand here,
Musing in my mind, what rayment I shall were;
For now I will were this, and now I will were that,
And now I will were what I cannot tell what.
At a lower period, about the reign of Elizabeth, we are presented with a
curious picture of a man of fashion by Puttenham, in his "Arte of
Poetry," p. 250. This author was a travelled courtier, and has
interspersed his curious work with many lively anecdotes of the times.
This is his fantastical beau in the reign of Elizabeth. "May it not
seeme enough for a courtier to know how to _weare a feather_ and _set
his cappe_ aflaunt; his _chain en echarpe_; a straight _buskin, al
Inglese_; a loose _à la Turquesque_; the cape _alla Spaniola_; the
breech _à la Françoise_, and, by twentie maner of new-fashioned
garments, to disguise his body and his face with as many countenances,
whereof it seems there be many that make a very arte and studie, who
can shewe himselfe most fine, I will not say most foolish or
ridiculous." So that a beau of those times wore in the same dress a
grotesque mixture of all the fashions in the world. About the same
period the _ton_ ran in a different course in France. There, fashion
consisted in an affected negligence of dress; for Montaigne honestly
laments, in Book i. Cap. 25--"I have never yet been apt to imitate the
_negligent garb_ which is yet observable among the _young men_ of our
time; to wear my _cloak on one shoulder_, my _bonnet on one side_, and
_one stocking_ in something _more disorder than the other_, meant to
express a manly disdain of such exotic ornaments, and a contempt of
art."
The fashions of the Elizabethan age have been chronicled by honest John
Stowe. Stowe was originally a _tailor_, and when he laid down the
shears, and took up the pen, the taste and curiosity for _dress_ was
still retained. He is the grave chronicler of matters not grave. The
chronology of ruffs, and tufted taffetas; the revolution of steel
poking-sticks, instead of bone or wood, used by the laundresses; the
invasion of shoe-buckles, and the total rout of shoe-roses; that grand
adventure of a certain Flemish lady, who introduced the art of starching
the ruffs with a yellow tinge into Britain: while Mrs. Montague emulated
her in the royal favour, by presenting her highness the queen with a
pair of black silk stockings, instead of her cloth hose, which her
majesty now for ever rejected; the heroic achievements of the Right
Honourable Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford, who first brought from Italy
the whole mystery and craft of perfumery, and costly washes; and among
other pleasant things besides, a perfumed jerkin, a pair of perfumed
gloves trimmed with roses, in which the queen took such delight, that
she was actually pictured with those gloves on her royal hands, and for
many years after the scent was called the Earl of Oxford's Perfume.
These, and occurrences as memorable, receive a pleasant kind of
historical pomp in the important, and not incurious, narrative of the
antiquary and the tailor. The toilet of Elizabeth was indeed an altar of
devotion, of which she was the idol, and all her ministers were her
votaries: it was the reign of coquetry, and the golden age of millinery!
But for grace and elegance they had not the slightest feeling! There is
a print by Vertue, of Queen Elizabeth going in a procession to Lord
Hunsdon. This procession is led by Lady Hunsdon, who no doubt was the
leader likewise of the fashion; but it is impossible, with our ideas of
grace and comfort, not to commiserate this unfortunate lady; whose
standing-up wire ruff, rising above her head; whose stays, or bodice, so
long-waisted as to reach to her knees; and the circumference of her
large hoop farthingale, which seems to enclose her in a capacious tub;
mark her out as one of the most pitiable martyrs of ancient modes. The
amorous Sir Walter Raleigh must have found some of the maids of honour
the most impregnable fortification his gallant spirit ever assailed: a
_coup de main_ was impossible.
I shall transcribe from old Stowe a few extracts, which may amuse the
reader:--
"In the second yeere of Queen Elizabeth, 1560, her _silke woman_,
Mistris Montague, presented her majestie for a new yeere's gift, a
_paire of black knit silk stockings_, the which, after a few days'
wearing, pleased her highness so well, that she sent for Mistris
Montague, and asked her where she had them, and if she could help her to
any more; who answered, saying, 'I made them very carefully of purpose
only for your majestie, and seeing these please you so well, I will
presently set more in hand.' 'Do so (quoth the queene), for _indeed I
like silk stockings so well, because they are pleasant, fine, and
delicate, that henceforth I will wear no more_ CLOTH STOCKINGS'--and
from that time unto her death the queene never wore any more _cloth
hose_, but only silke stockings; for you shall understand that King
Henry the Eight did weare onely cloath hose, or hose cut out of
ell-broade taffety, or that by great chance there came a pair of
_Spanish silk stockings_ from Spain. King Edward the Sixt had a _payre
of long Spanish silk stockings_ sent him for a _great present_.--Dukes'
daughters then wore gownes of satten of Bridges (Bruges) upon solemn
dayes. Cushens, and window pillows of velvet and damaske, formerly only
princely furniture, now be very plenteous in most citizens' houses."
"Milloners or haberdashers had not then any _gloves imbroydered_, or
trimmed with gold, or silke; neither gold nor imbroydered girdles and
hangers, neither could they _make any costly wash_ or _perfume_, until
about the fifteenth yeere of the queene, the Right Honourable Edward de
Vere, Earl of Oxford, came from _Italy_, and brought with him gloves,
sweete bagges, a perfumed leather jerkin, and other _pleasant things_;
and that yeere the queene had a _pair of perfumed gloves_ trimmed only
with four tuffes, or _roses of coloured silk_. The queene took such
pleasure in those gloves, that she was pictured with those gloves upon
her handes, and for many years after it was called '_The Earl of
Oxford's perfume_.'"
In such a chronology of fashions, an event not less important surely was
the origin of _starching_; and here we find it treated with the utmost
historical dignity.
"In the year 1564, Mistris Dinghen Van den Plasse, borne at Tænen in
Flaunders, daughter to a worshipfull knight of that province, with her
husband, came to London for their better safeties and there professed
herself a _starcher_, wherein she excelled, unto whom her owne nation
presently repaired, and payed her very liberally for her worke. Some
very few of the best and most curious wives of that time, observing the
_neatness and delicacy of the Dutch for whitenesse and fine wearing of
linen_, made them _cambricke ruffs_, and sent them to Mistris Dinghen to
_starch_, and after awhile they made them _ruffes of lawn_, which was at
that time a stuff most strange, and wonderfull, and thereupon rose a
_general scoffe_ or _by-word_, that shortly they would make _ruffs of a
spider's web_; and then they began to send their daughters and nearest
kinswomen to Mistris Dinghen to _learn how to starche_; her usuall price
was at that time, foure or five pound, to teach them how _to starch_,
and twenty shillings how to _seeth starch_."
Thus Italy, Holland, and France supplied us with fashions and
refinements. But in those days there were, as I have shown from
Puttenham, as _extravagant dressers_ as any of their present supposed
degenerate descendants. Stowe affords us another curious extract.
"Divers noble personages made them _ruffes, a full quarter of a yeard
deepe_, and two lengthe in one ruffe. This _fashion_ in _London_ was
called the _French fashion_; but when Englishmen came to _Paris_, the
_French_ knew it not, and in derision called it _the English monster_."
An exact parallel this of many of our own Parisian modes in the present
day.
This was the golden period of cosmetics. The beaux of that day, it is
evident, used the abominable art of painting their faces as well as the
women. Our old comedies abound with perpetual allusions to oils,
tinctures, quintessences, pomatums, perfumes, paint white and red, &c.
One of their prime cosmetics was a frequent use of the _bath_, and the
application of _wine_. Strutt quotes from an old MS. a recipe to make
the face of a beautiful red colour. The person was to be in a bath that
he might perspire, and afterwards wash his face with wine, and "so
should be both faire and roddy." In Mr. Lodge's "Illustrations of
British History," the Earl of Shrewsbury, who had the keeping of the
unfortunate Queen of Scots, complains of the expenses of the queen for
_bathing in wine_, and requires a further allowance. A learned Scotch
professor informed me that _white wine_ was used for these purposes.
They also made a bath of _milk_. Elder beauties _bathed in wine_, to get
rid of their wrinkles; and perhaps not without reason, wine being a
great astringent. Unwrinkled beauties _bathed in milk_, to preserve the
softness and sleekness of the skin. Our venerable beauties of the
Elizabethan age were initiated coquettes; and the mysteries of their
toilet might be worth unveiling.
The reign of Charles II. was the dominion of French fashions. In some
respects the taste was a little lighter, but the moral effect of dress,
and which no doubt it has, was much worse. The dress was very
inflammatory; and the nudity of the beauties of the portrait-painter,
Sir Peter Lely, has been observed. The queen of Charles II. exposed her
breast and shoulders without even the gloss of the lightest gauze; and
the tucker, instead of standing up on her bosom, is with licentious
boldness turned down, and lies upon her stays. This custom of baring the
bosom was much exclaimed against by the authors of that age. That honest
divine, Richard Baxter, wrote a preface to a book, entitled, "A just and
seasonable reprehension of _naked breasts and shoulders_." In 1672 a
book was published, entitled, "New instructions unto youth for their
behaviour, and also a discourse upon some innovations of habits and
dressing; _against powdering of hair_, _naked breasts_, _black spots_
(or patches), and other unseemly customs."A whimsical fashion now
prevailed among the ladies, of strangely ornamenting their faces with
abundance of black patches cut into grotesque forms, such as a coach and
horses, owls, rings, suns, moons, crowns, cross and crosslets. The
author has prefixed _two ladies' heads_; the one representing _Virtue_,
and the other _Vice_. _Virtue_ is a lady modestly habited, with a black
velvet hood, and a plain white kerchief on her neck, with a border.
_Vice_ wears no handkerchief; her stays cut low, so that they display
great part of the breasts; and a variety of fantastical patches on her
face.
The innovations of fashions in the reign of Charles II. were watched
with a jealous eye by the remains of those strict puritans, who now
could only pour out their bile in such solemn admonitions. They affected
all possible plainness and sanctity. When courtiers wore monstrous wigs,
they cut their hair short; when they adopted hats with broad plumes,
they clapped on round black caps, and screwed up their pale religious
faces; and when shoe-buckles were revived, they wore strings. The
sublime Milton, perhaps, exulted in his intrepidity of still wearing
latchets! The Tatler ridicules Sir William Whitelocke for his
singularity in still affecting them. "Thou dear _Will Shoestring_, how
shall I draw thee? Thou dear outside, will you be _combing your wig_,
playing with your _box_, or picking your teeth?" &c. _Wigs_ and
_snuff-boxes_ were then the rage. Steele's own wig, it is recorded, made
at one time a considerable part of his annual expenditure. His large
black periwig cost him, even at that day, no less than forty
guineas!--We wear nothing at present in this degree of extravagance. But
such a wig was the idol of fashion, and they were performing perpetually
their worship with infinite self-complacency; combing their wigs in
public was then the very spirit of gallantry and rank. The hero of
Richardson, youthful and elegant as he wished him to be, is represented
waiting at an assignation, and describing his sufferings in bad weather
by lamenting that "his _wig_ and his linen were dripping with the hoar
frost dissolving on them." Even Betty, Clarissa's lady's-maid, is
described as "tapping on her _snuff-box_," and frequently taking
_snuff_. At this time nothing was so monstrous as the head-dresses of
the ladies in Queen Anne's reign: they formed a kind of edifice of three
stories high; and a fashionable lady of that day much resembles the
mythological figure of Cybele, the mother of the gods, with three towers
on her head.[66]
It is not worth noticing the changes in fashion, unless to ridicule
them. However, there are some who find amusement in these records of
luxurious idleness; these thousand and one follies! Modern fashions,
till, very lately, a purer taste has obtained among our females, were
generally mere copies of obsolete ones, and rarely originally
fantastical. The dress of _some_ of our _beaux_ will only be known in a
few years hence by their _caricatures_. In 1751 the dress of a _dandy_
is described in the Inspector. A _black_ velvet coat, a _green_ and
silver waistcoat, _yellow_ velvet breeches, and _blue_ stockings. This
too was the æra of _black silk breeches_; an extraordinary novelty
against which "some frowsy people attempted to raise up _worsted_ in
emulation." A satirical writer has described a buck about forty years
ago;[67] one could hardly have suspected such a gentleman to have been
one of our contemporaries. "A coat of light green, with sleeves too
small for the arms, and buttons too big for the sleeves; a pair of
Manchester fine stuff breeches, without money in the pockets; clouded
silk stockings, but no legs; a club of hair behind larger than the head
that carries it; a hat of the size of sixpence on a block not worth a
farthing."
As this article may probably arrest the volatile eyes of my fair
readers, let me be permitted to felicitate them on their improvement in
elegance in the forms of their dress; and the taste and knowledge of art
which they frequently exhibit. But let me remind them that there are
universal principles of beauty in dress independent of all fashions.
Tacitus remarks of Poppea, the consort of Nero, that she concealed _a
part of her face_; to the end that, the imagination having fuller play
by irritating curiosity, they might think higher of her beauty than if
the whole of her face had been exposed. The sentiment is beautifully
expressed by Tasso, and it will not be difficult to remember it:--
"Non copre sue bellezze, e non l'espose."
I conclude by a poem, written in my youth, not only because the late Sir
Walter Scott once repeated some of the lines, from memory, to remind me
of it, and has preserved it in "The English Minstrelsy," but also as a
memorial of some fashions which have become extinct in my own days.