All the fripperies of fashion lay in pins for the wimple, the head

made as a figure of a patron saint; or girdles rich with precious

stones; or mirror-cases on whose ivory fronts were carved the Castle

of Love, or hunting scenes, or Calvary. The clasps of purses were rich

in design, and rings of every kind were worn on every finger and upon

the thumb. Charms against evil were hung about the neck or sewn into

the clothes. No matter who wrote, passed, and practised the many

sumptuary laws, still, one may know it to have been frequent for

persons owning less than L20 a year to wear gold and silver

ornaments, although expressly forbidden, and ladies of a lower estate

than wives of knights-banneret wore cloth of gold and velvet, and

gowns that reached and trailed upon the ground, while their husbands

braved it in ermine and marten-lined sleeves which swept the road.

The custom of wearing crowns was common to all people of rank, as

heraldic distinction of crowns did not commence until the sixteenth

century.

What a magnificent time for colour was this reign!--the rich

houppelandes, the furs, the long-piked shoes with pearls and gold upon

them, the massive chains about men's necks; ladies whose heads shone

with rich caps and cauls of pearl-embroidered gold, the rich-sheathed

baselard stuck in the girdle or hanging from it on a silver chain.

Even the poor begging friar was touched by all this finery, and,

forgetful of the rules of Saint Francis, he made great haste to

convert his alms into a furred cote 'cutted to the knee and quaintly

buttoned, hose in hard weather fastened at the ankle, and buckled

shoes.'

Imagine that amazing woman the Wife of Bath, in her great hat and

pound-weight kerchief; the carpenter's wife in her gored apron, at her

girdle a purse of leather hanging, decorated with silk tassels and

buttons of metal.

It is almost impossible to describe clearly the head-dresses--the

great gold net bags which encased the hair--for they were ornamented

in such different ways, always, or nearly always, following some

pattern in diaper in contrast to the patterns which came later when

the design followed such lines as are formed by wire-netting, while

later still the connecting-thread of the patterns was done away with

and the inside decoration alone remained.

Well, Richard the King no longer can whistle to Matthew, his favourite

greyhound, and Anne the Queen lies stately in the Abbey at Westminster

without solace of her little lap-dog; but we are not all modern in our

ways, and ladies hang charms about them, from scarabs to queer evil

eye coral hands, from silver shoes to month-stones. Crowns of flowers

have been worn and crowns of jewels too, just as men and women wore

them then, except on Fridays and the eves of fetes.

These things we do, and other ancient things beside, but let us hope

that Fashion has lost her cruel mood, and deems it wise to leave our

ladies' eyebrows where they be, nor schemes to inspire her faithful

devotees with mad desires to hide their hair and shave their napes.

The crinoline is threatened--let it come; sandals are here, with short

hair and the simple life, but leave me, I pray thee, royal dame, an

eyebrow on my lady, if only to give occupation to the love-lorn

sonneteer.

THE END OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY

[Illustration: Chaucer.]

In the last year of the fourteenth century there were still living two

men whose voices have made the century live for us. One of

them--Chaucer--remains to-day the father of English poetry, the

forerunner of Shakespeare; the other--Gower--less known to most of us,

was the author of three long poems--'Speculum Meditantis,' in French;

'Vox Clamantis,' in Latin; 'Confessio Amantis,' in English. Boccaccio

had written his 'Decameron,' and it was this method of writing a

series of poems or stories by means of connecting-links of narrative

that should run through the series, that inspired the form of the

'Confessio Amantis' and the 'Canterbury Tales'; indeed, many stories

in both of these works are retold out of the 'Decameron.'

Gower wrote of his age as a man giving advice, philosophically; he

did not attempt character studies, but framed his poems as narratives

with morals fit for application to his times.

Chaucer drew his characters clearly--so clearly that they have become

as living as have Uncle Toby or Mrs. Gamp--symbolic people, embracing

a type of national character.

A third writer--Langland--pictured his age from the poor man's point

of view, and the three writers, together with the artist of the

Loutrell Psalter, bring the age most vividly to our eyes.

Of course, in these days of hasty work, it seems hardly feasible to

suggest that artists who would illustrate these times should read the

works of these three men, and go to the British Museum to look at the

Psalter; but any writer must do this, and can do this, considering

that the works of the poets are cheap to obtain and the British Museum

is free to all.

Anyone wishing to picture these times will find that Chaucer has

written very carefully of the costume of his Pilgrims. They will find

the pith of the costume in this book of mine; but since no book is

complete in every sense, they should see for themselves how men of

the day drew the costume they saw about them. It will give them a

sense of the spirit of the age which so many modern drawings lack.

I give you Gower's picture of an exquisite; no words of mine could

show so well the manner of the man:

'And therof thenketh he but a lite,

For all his lust is to delite

In newe thinges, proude and veine,

Als ferforth as he may atteine.

I trowe, if that he mighte make

His body newe, he wolde take

A newe form and leve his olde.

For what thing that he may behold

The which to common use is straunge,

Anone his olde guise chaunge

He woll, and falle therupon

Lich unto the camelion,

Whiche upon every sondry hewe

That he beholt he mote newe

His coloun; and thus unavised

Full ofte time he stand desguised.

More jolif than the brid in Maie,

He maketh him ever fressh and gaie

And doth all his array desguise,

So that of him the newe guise

Of lusty folke all other take.'

Now, if I have described the costume of these times clearly--and I

think I have done so--these lines should conjure up a gay fellow, with

his many changes of dress. If the vision fails, then allow me to say

that you are at fault, and have taken no pains with the description.

Because the coloured drawing to the chapter of Richard II. shows a

long houppelande and a chaperon tied in a certain way, you will very

possibly forget that this dandy would have also a short houppelande,

differently jagged sleeves, more ruffle about the twisting of his

chaperon, more curve to the points of his shoes.

You may see the image of Gower for yourself in St. Mary Overies

Church, now called St. Saviour's, on the Southwark side of London

Bridge. He is dressed in his sober black, his head resting upon his

three books.

In 1397 Gower retired from active life, and resigned his Rectory of

Great Braxted, Essex; he was seventy years of age, and at that age he

married Agnes Groundolf in a chapel of his own under the rooms where

he lived in the Priory of St. Mary Overies.

In 1400 his friend Chaucer died and Gower went blind. He died in 1408.

Chaucer, whose eyes saw England in her greatness after the Battle of

Crecy in 1346, and in her pitiful state at the downfall of Richard

II., saw such a pageant of clothes pass before him that, in describing

those wonderful national types, his Canterbury Pilgrims, he marks each

one with some hint of array that we may know what manner of habit was

proper to them. Here, then, is a list of the clothes he pictured them

as wearing:

[Illustration {The knight}]

THE KNIGHT

wears a fustian doublet, all rust-stained by his coat of mail. It is

interesting to note how old-fashioned is the character of this 'verray

parfit gentil knight,' for he belongs more rightly to the chivalrous

time of the first half of Edward III.'s reign rather than to the less

gentle time of Richard.

[Illustration: {The squire}]

THE SQUIRE.

His locks were curled, 'as they were leyed in presse.' His short gown

with wide sleeves was covered with embroidery of red and white

flowers.

THE YEOMAN

is in a coat and hood of green. He has a sheaf of peacock arrows in

his belt; across his shoulder is a green baldrick to carry a horn.

There is a figure of St. Christopher in silver hanging on his breast.

THE PRIORESS

is in a handsome cloak; she wears coral beads gauded with green, and a

brooch of gold--

'On which was first write a-crowned A,

And after, "Amor vincit omnia."'

THE MONK

wears his gown, but has his sleeves trimmed with gray squirrel. To

fasten his hood he has a curious gold pin, wrought at the greater end

with a love-knot.

THE FRIAR

has his cape stuck full of knives and pins 'for to yeven faire wyves.'

THE MERCHANT

is in a motley of colours--parti-coloured. His beard is forked; upon

his head is a Flaunderish beaver hat. His boots are elegantly

clasped.

THE CLERK

wears a threadbare tunic.

[Illustration: {The man of law}]

THE MAN OF LAW

is in a coat of parti-colours, his belt of silk with small metal bars

on it.

THE FRANKELEYN OR COUNTRY GENTLEMAN

has a white silk purse and a two-edged dagger, or akelace, at his

girdle.

'Then come the HABERDASHER, the CARPENTER, the WEAVER, the DYER, and

the TAPESTRY WORKER, all in the livery of their companies. They all

carry pouches, girdles, and knives, mounted in silver.'

THE SHIPMAN

is in a gown of falding (a coarse cloth), reaching to his knees. A

dagger is under his arm, on a lace hanging round his neck.

THE DOCTOR

wears a gown of red and blue (pers was a blue cloth) lined with

taffeta and sendal.

[Illustration: {The wife of Bath}]

THE WIFE OF BATH.

Her wimples of fine linen--

'I dorste swere they weyeden ten pound

That on a Sonday were upon hir heed.'

Her hose was of fine scarlet red; her shoes were moist and new. Her

hat was as broad as a buckler, and she wore a foot-mantle about her

hips.

THE PLOUGHMAN

wears a tabard, a loose smock without sleeves.

THE REVE OR STEWARD

wears a long surcoat of blue cloth (pers).

THE SOMNOUR

(an officer who summoned persons before the ecclesiastical courts)

wears on his head a garland--'as greet as it were for an ale-stake.'

[Illustration: {The pardoner}]

THE PARDONER

has long yellow hair falling about his shoulders; his hood is turned

back, and he wears a tall cap, on which is sewn a Vernicle. This is

the handkerchief of St. Veronica on which there was an impression of

our Lord's face.

This completes the list of Pilgrims, but it will be useful to give a

few more descriptions of dress as described by Chaucer. The

Carpenter's wife in the Miller's Tale is described:

'Fair was this yonge wyf, and ther-with-al

As any wesele hir body gent (slim) and small.

A ceynt (belt) she werede barred al of silk,

A barneclooth (apron) eek as whyt as morne milk

Upon hir lendes (loins), ful of many a gore.

Whyt was hir smok and brouded al before

And eek behinde, on hir coler aboute,

Of col-blak silk, within and eek withoute.

The tapes of his whyte voluper (a cap)

Were of the same suyte--of hir coler;

Hir filet broad of silk, and set ful hye.

* * * * *

And by hir girdel heeng a purs of lether

Tasseld with silk and perked with latoun (a compound

of copper and zinc).

* * * * *

A brooch she bare upon hir lowe coler,

As broad as is the bos of a buckler.

Her shoes were laced on hir legges hye.'

Here also, from the Parson's Tale, is a sermon against the vain

clothing of his time, that will serve to show how you may best paint

this age, and to what excess of imagination you may run. I have

reduced the wording into more modern English:

'As to the first sin, that is in superfluitee of

clothing, which that maketh it so dere, to the harm of

the people; not only the cost of embroidering, the

elaborate endenting or barring, ornamenting with waved

lines, paling, winding, or bending, and semblable waste

of cloth in vanity; but there is also costly furring in

their gowns, so muche pounching of chisels to make

holes, so much dagging of shears; forthwith the

superfluity in the length of the foresaid gowns,

trailing in the dung and the mire, on horse and eek on

foot, as well of man as of woman, that all this trailing

is verily as in effect wasted, consumed, threadbare, and

rotten with dung, rather than it is given to the poor;

to great damage of the aforesaid poor folk.

'Upon the other side, to speak of the horrible

disordinate scantiness of clothing, as be this cutted

sloppes or hainselins (short jackets), that through

their shortness do not cover the shameful members of

man, to wicked intent.'

After this, the good Parson, rising to a magnificent torrent of

wrathful words, makes use of such homely expressions that should move

the hearts of his hearers--words which, in our day, are not seemly to

our artificial and refined palates.

Further, Chaucer remarks upon the devices of love-knots upon clothes,

which he calls 'amorettes'; on trimmed clothes, as being 'apyked'; on

nearly all the fads and fashions of his time.

It is to Chaucer, and such pictures as he presents, that our minds

turn when we think vaguely of the Middle Ages, and it is worth our

careful study, if we wish to appreciate the times to the full, to

read, no matter the hard spelling, the 'Vision of Piers the Plowman,'

by Langland.

I have drawn a few of the Pilgrims, in order to show that they may be

reconstructed by reading the chapters on the fourteenth century.

HENRY THE FOURTH

Reigned fourteen years: 1399-1413.

Born 1366. Married, 1380, Mary de Bohun; 1403, Joan of

Navarre.

THE MEN AND WOMEN

The reign opens sombrely enough--Richard in prison, and twenty-five

suits of cloth of gold left, among other of his butterfly raiment, in

Haverford Castle.

We are still in the age of the houppelande, the time of cut edges,

jagging, big sleeves and trailing gowns. Our fine gentlemen take the

air in the long loose gown, or the short edition of the same with the

skirts cut from it. They have invented, or the tailor has invented, or

necessity has contrived, a new sleeve. It is a bag sleeve, very full

and fine, enormous at the elbow, tight at the wrist, where it may fall

over the hand in a wide cuff with dagged edges, or it may end in a

plain band.

[Illustration: A MAN AND WOMAN OF THE TIME OF HENRY IV. (1399-1413)

Very little change in dress; the man in the loose gown called the

houppelande. The woman also in a houppelande.]

Let us take six gentlemen met together to learn the old

thirteenth-century part-song, the round entitled 'Sumer is icumen in.'

[Illustration: {Two men of the time of Henry IV.}]

The first, maybe, is in the high-collared houppelande with the long

skirts; his sleeves are of a different colour to his gown, and are

fastened to it under cut epaulettes at his shoulders; he wears a

baldrick, hung with bells, over his shoulder; his houppelande is split

on one side to show his parti-coloured hose beyond his knee; his shoes

are long and very pointed; his hair is cut short, and he wears a

twisted roll of stuff round his head.

The second is in the latest mode; he wears the voluminous sleeves

which end in a plain band at his wrist, and these sleeves are of a

different colour to his houppelande, the skirts of which are cut short

at the knee, and then are cut into neat dags. This garment is not so

full as that of the first gentleman, which is gathered in at the waist

by a long-tongued belt, but is buttoned down the front to the waist

and is full in the skirt; also it has no collar. This man wears his

hair long and curled at the nape of his neck.

[Illustration: {A man of the time of Henry IV.}]

A third of these gentlemen, a big burly man, is in a very short tunic

with wide sleeves; his tights are of two colours, his left leg red,

his right blue. Over his tunic he wears a quilted waistcoat, the

collar and armholes of which are trimmed with fur.

[Illustration {A man of the time of Henry IV.}]

A fourth wears a loose houppelande, one half of which is blue and the

other half black; it is buttoned from throat to foot; the sleeves

are wide. His hair is long, and his beard is brushed into two points.

[Illustration: {Four men of the time of Henry IV.; five types of hat;

a pouch}]

[Illustration: {Two men of the time of Henry IV.}]

The fifth gentleman wears a houppelande of middle length, with a very

high collar buttoned up the neck, the two top buttons being undone;

the top of the collar rolls over. He has the epaulette, but instead of

showing the very full bag sleeves he shows a little loose sleeve to

the elbow, and a tight sleeve from the elbow to the hand, where it

forms a cuff. He wears a very new-fashioned cap like a stiff

sugar-bag, with the top lopping over.

[Illustration: {A man of the time of Henry IV.}]

The sixth and last of this group is wearing an unbound

houppelande--that is, he wears no belt. He wears a plain hood which is

over his head, and a soft, loose, peaked hat.

'Sumer is icumen in,' the six sing out, and the shepherd, who can

hear them from outside, is considering whether he can play the air

upon his pipe. He is dressed in a loose tunic, a hood, and a

wide-brimmed straw hat; his pipe is stuck in his belt.

Let us suppose that the wives of the six gentlemen are seated

listening to the manly voices of their lords.

The first wears a dress of blue, which is laced from the opening to

the waist, where the laces are tied in a neat bow and hang down. Her

dress is cut fairly low; it has tight sleeves which come over her

hands to the knuckles in tight cuffs. There is a wide border, about a

foot and a half, of ermine on the skirt of her dress. She wears a

mantle over her shoulders. Her hair is enclosed in a stiff square caul

of gold wire over cloth of gold.

[Illustration: {A woman of the time of Henry IV.}]

The second lady is wearing a houppelande with wide, hanging sleeves

all cut at the edge; the cut of this gown is loose, except that it

fits across her shoulders; she also wears a caul, from the back of

which emerges a linen wimple.

The third lady is in surcoat and cotehardie; the surcoat has a

pleated skirt, and the borders of it are edged thickly with fur; it is

cut low enough at the sides to show a belt over the hips. The

cotehardie, of a different colour to the surcoat, has tight sleeves

with buttons from elbow to little finger. This lady has her hair cut

short at the nape of her neck, and bound about the brows with a golden

circlet.

[Illustration: {Three women of the time of Henry IV.}]

A fourth wears a very loose houppelande, encircled about the waist

with a broad belt, the tongue of which hangs down and has an

ornamented end. This houppelande falls in great folds from the neck to

the feet, and is gathered into the neck; it has loose, but not wide,

sleeves, falling just below the elbow. The gown is worn over a

cotehardie, the sleeves of which show through the other sleeves, and

the skirt of which shows when the gown skirt is gathered up.

[Illustration: {Two women of the time of Henry IV.}]

The fifth lady also wears a cotehardie with a skirt to it; she wears

over it a circular mantle, buttoned by three buttons on the right

shoulder, and split from there to the edge on both sides, showing the

dress; the front semicircle of the cloak is held to the waist by a

belt so that the back hangs loose. Her hair is in a caul.

The sixth is in a very plain dress, tight-fitting, buttoned in front,

with full skirts. She wears a white linen hood which shows the shape

of the caul in which her hair is imprisoned.

So is this queer old round sung, 'Sumer is icumen in.'

Afterwards, perhaps one of these ladies, wishing to get some spite

against one of the gentlemen, will ride away in a heavy riding-cloak,

the hood over her head and a peaked hat on that, and she will call

upon a witch. The witch will answer the rapping at her humble door,

and will come out, dressed in a country dress--just an ill-fitting

gown and hood, with some attempt at classical ornament on the gown,

or a cloak sewn with the sacred initials thrown over her back. These

two will bargain awhile for the price of a leaden image to be made in

the likeness of the ill-fated gentleman, or, rather, a rough figure,

on which his name will be scratched; then the puppet will be cast into

the fire and melted while certain evil charms are spoken, and the

malicious accident required to befall him will be spoken aloud for the

Devil's private ear. Possibly some woman sought a witch near Evesham

in the year 1410, and bought certain intentions against a tailor of

that place, Badby by name; for this much is certain: that the tailor

was burnt for Lollardy ten years after the first victim for Lollard

heresy, William Sawtre.

HENRY THE FIFTH

Reigned nine years: 1413-1422.

Born 1388. Married, 1420, Katherine of France.

THE MEN

[Illustration: {A man of the time of Henry V.}]

I think I may call this a transitional period of clothes, for it

contains the ragged ends of the time of Richard II. and the old

clothes of the time of Henry IV., and it contains the germs of a

definite fashion, a marked change which came out of the chrysalis

stage, and showed itself in the prosperous butterflies of the sixth

Henry's time.

We retain the houppelande, its curtailments, its exaggerations, its

high and low collar, its plain or jagged sleeves. We retain the long

hair, which 'busheth pleasauntlie,' and the short hair of the

previous reign. Also we see the new ideas for the priest-cropped hair

and the roundlet hat.

I speak of the men only.

It was as if, in the press of French affairs, man had but time to

ransack his grandfather's and his father's chests, and from thence to

pull out a garment or two at a venture. If the garment was a little

worn in the upper part of the sleeve, he had a slash made there, and

embroidered it round. If the baldrick hung with bells was worn out in

parts, he cut those pieces away and turned the baldrick into a belt.

If the skirts of the houppelande were sadly frayed at the edge, enter

Scissors again to cut them off short; perhaps the sleeves were

good--well, leave them on; perhaps the skirts were good and the

sleeves soiled--well, cut out the sleeves and pop in some of his

father's bag sleeves. Mind you, my honest gentleman had trouble

brewing: no sooner had he left the wars in Normandy and Guienne than

the siege of Harfleur loomed to his vision, and after that

Agincourt--Agincourt, where unarmoured men prevailed over mailed

knights at the odds of six to one; Agincourt, where archers beat the

great knights of France on open ground! Hear them hammer on the

French armour with their steel mallets, while the Frenchmen, weighed

down with their armour, sank knee-deep in the mud--where we lost 100

men, against the French loss of 10,000!

[Illustration: A Belt with Bells.]

See the port of Le Havre, with the English army landed there--Henry in

his full-sleeved gown, his hair cropped close and shaven round his

head from his neck to an inch above his ears, buskins on his feet, for

he wore buskins in preference to long boots or pointed shoes. The

ships in the harbour are painted in gay colours--red, blue, in

stripes, in squares; the sails are sewn with armorial bearings or some

device. Some of our gentlemen are wearing open houppelandes over their

armour; some wear the stuffed turban on their heads, with a jewelled

brooch stuck in it; some wear the sugar-bag cap, which falls to one

side; some are hooded, others wear peaked hats. One hears, 'By

halidom!' I wonder if all the many, many people who have hastily

written historical novels of this age, and have peppered them with 'By

halidoms,' knew that 'By halidom' means 'By the relics of the saints,'

and that an 'harlote' means a man who was a buffoon who told ribald

stories?

[Illustration: The Turban.]

English Costume · 第 6 / 19 段