Chapter D: G. Angliæ, Scotiæ, Franciæ Et Hiberniæ Regina (3)

a parody on a popular song, "The Banks of Banna"--expresses the disappearance of that portion of the body, which had previously been absurdly long. The ample flowered skirts of the middle of the century gave place to light gauze clinging coverings which exhibited as much of Nature's form as was--desirable. The _merveilleuses_ appeared in gossamer gowns, slit from the hips and buttoned at the knees after the fashion of the Macedonian girls alluded to in a previous chat, the legs encased in fleshings. "Behold her, that beautiful citoyenne, in costume of the ancient Greeks, such Greek as painter David could teach; her sweeping tresses snooded by glittering antique fillet; bright-dyed tunic of the Greek woman; her little feet naked as in antique statues, with mere sandals and winding strings of riband--defying the frost."[15]

_Engraved by Pierre-Louis Surugue._]

"English Costume from Pocket-books," 1799, tells of a Russian officer, who, having been accustomed at home to estimate the rank of a lady by the _warmth_ of her clothing, offered a woman of fashion a penny, in Bond Street, under the impression that from her nakedness she must be a pauper!

The Empire gown is figured in the illustration of a walking dress, 1810. It lasted practically until the advent of the crinoline in the forties, when it finally disappeared. There has been recent talk of its revival, but dancing men are found to be opposed to it, if for no other reason than the difficulty of knowing where to place their arms; and dancing men are apparently a necessity.

The really fashionable people are those who are not in the fashion. This may at first sight seem a paradox, but a moment's consideration will be sufficiently convincing. The Empress of Germany gives an order to her dressmaker for four dresses, on the strict understanding that no others are to be made like them (_vide_ daily paper). _This_ is the genuine woman of fashion. The people who are "in the fashion" are the sheep. "Bell-wether takes the leap and they all jump over." In other words, there can be no really beautiful dress unless the spirit of individualism is fostered. Dress should "express" the wearer and provide an index as to character. Indeed, it does, as the spectacle of a woman or a man following blindly the dictates of fashion is sufficient evidence that he or she possesses no character at all.

There is also a manner of dressing and of wearing, a certain elegance that distinguishes people of taste from the vulgar, which gives each portion of the dress its due importance, and imparts a harmony to the whole, as in the composition of a picture, which weaves every detail into one design and impresses the beholder as a masterpiece.

Moreover, there is a charm and piquancy of manner quite apart from the dress itself, or even the personal beauty of the wearer, which distinguishes the fascinating woman. A character in "The Belle's Stratagem" exclaims--with what degree of truth the reader himself must determine:

"Pho! thou hast no taste! English beauty! 'tis insipidity: it wants the zest, it wants poignancy, Frank! Why, I have known a Frenchwoman, indebted to Nature for no one thing but a pair of decent eyes, reckon in her suit as many counts, marquisses, and petits maîtres, as would satisfy three dozen of our first-rate toasts. I have known an Italian marquizina make ten conquests in stepping from her carriage, and carry her slaves from one city to another, whose real intrinsic beauty would have yielded to half the little grisettes that pace your Mall on a Sunday."

FOOTNOTES:

[13] The term "spencer" is a modern one, and is said to originate from an accident to Lord Spencer, in which he lost his coat-tails during a hunt, _temp._ George III.

[14] "This day I did first see the Duke of York's room of pictures of some Maids of Honour, done by Lilly; good, but not like."--_Pepys's Diary._

[15] Carlyle.

VI

THE RISE AND FALL OF THE CRINOLINE

"For I will goe frocked and in a French hood,
I will have my fine cassockes and my round verdingale."

_Booke of Robin Conscience._

_From Jacquemin._]

VI

THE RISE AND FALL OF THE CRINOLINE

Fielding, in his description of the beauty and many graces of Sophia Western, feeling his subject to be more than ordinarily sublime, introduces his heroine "with the utmost solemnity, with an elevation of style, and all the other circumstances proper to raise the veneration of the reader": "Hushed be every ruder breath. May the heathen ruler of the winds confine in iron chains the boisterous limbs of noisy Boreas, and the sharp-pointed nose of bitter-biting Eurus. Do thou, sweet Zephyrus, rising from thy fragrant bed, mount the western sky and lead on those delicious gales, the charms of which call forth the lovely Flora from her chamber, perfumed with pearly dews, when on the first of June, her birthday, the blooming maid, in loose attire, gently trips it over the verdant mead, where every flower rises to do her homage, until the whole field becomes enamelled, and colours contend with sweets which shall ravish her most.

"So charming may she now appear; and you, the feathered choristers of nature, whose sweetest notes not even Handel can excel, tune your melodious throats to celebrate her appearance. _From love proceeds your music, and to love it returns._ Awake, therefore," &c.

If one were fortunate enough to possess the power of description and imagination of a Fielding, methinks the crinoline would provide a sufficiently inspiring theme.

It has been said that Milton was a man from his birth. The crinoline, like Milton, is an exception to every law of development. It had, like Milton, neither infancy nor adolescence, but sprang full armed, like "Athene from the brain of Zeus," or perhaps, like Topsy in "Uncle Tom's Cabin," it never was born, but just "growed"--and it grew--like a mushroom (which indeed in form it somewhat resembles), in a night. Or, to adopt yet another comparison, like the sun, which bursts in the morning suddenly in its full refulgence, is obscured for a time by clouds, to blaze again in unabated splendour, and in its turn is again obscured, but only to reappear in glorious sunset.

The crinoletta, which followed, may be described as the twilight or sweet afterglow--beautiful, tender as the blush on a maiden's cheek, and almost as evanescent, but with none of the glory of the preceding day.

_After Gainsborough._]

In the charming passage from Fielding above quoted, Love, it will be seen, figures as the presiding spirit. This is peculiarly appropriate to the present subject, for, be it known, _Dan Cupid begat the crinoline_. It is said to have been originally invented for the purpose of concealing the illicit amours of a Princess of Spain; but singularly enough, and in a sort of contradictory spirit, is first identified with the august person of the "Maiden Queen."

The earlier portraits of Elizabeth exhibit her in a dress similar to that of her sister and predecessor, and in an interesting portrait of Catherine Parr at Glendon Hall, Northamptonshire, this Queen appears in a richly embroidered petticoat widened at the base. A similar petticoat or kirtle, widened a little at the hips, is shown in the portrait of Mary, Queen of Scots, with Darnley (p. 169). The hooped petticoat or _vardingale_, however, appears only in the later portraits of Elizabeth. In the famous print by William Rogers, of which a reproduction is given, she is figured in the great ruff with which she is most identified, the interminable stomacher, and the enormous wheel farthingale, with, as Walpole observes, "a bushel of pearls bestrewed over the entire figure"; she also wears a long light mantle edged with lace, a portentous collar, also edged with lace, expanding like wings on either side of the head. She carries the ball and sceptre in her hands.

_From an engraving by William Rogers._]

The legend at the foot of the plate runs as follows:--

"The admired Empresse through the worlde applauded
For supreme virtues rarest imitation,
Whose Scepters rule fame's loud-voyc'd trumpet lawdeth
Into the eares of every forraigne nation.
Cannopey'd under powerfull angells winges
To her Immortall praise sweete Science singes."

The great wheel farthingale was worn by the nobility during the latter half of the reign of Elizabeth, and during the whole of the succeeding reign. The engraving by Renold Elstracke of James I. and his Queen, Anne of Denmark, shows the latter in a farthingale, which in size and general structure is identical with that worn by Elizabeth. It is, however, box pleated round the top of the drum, the farthingale being divided in front and discovering the kirtle underneath.

The following story is told by Bulwer in his "Pedigree of the English Gallant": "When Sir Peter Wych was sent ambassador to the Grand Seignor from James I., his lady accompanied him to Constantinople, and the Sultaness having heard much of her, desired to see her; whereupon Lady Wych, attended by her waiting women, all of them dressed in their great vardingales, which was the Court-dress of the English ladies at that time, waited upon her highness. The Sultaness received her visitor with great respect, but, struck with the extraordinary extension of the hips of the whole party, seriously inquired if that shape was peculiar to the natural formation of English women, and Lady Wych was obliged to explain the whole mystery of the dress, in order to convince her that she and her companions were not really so deformed as they appeared to be."

_From an engraving by R. Elstracke._]

In the reign of Charles I. the farthingale, although still worn by the lower gentry and citizens' wives, is discarded by the upper classes, and disappears entirely; and it is not until the latter part of the reign of Queen Anne that it rises again, like the Phœnix from its own ashes, but in another form, however, that of the enormous hoop, which grew to such portentous proportions during the reigns of George I. and II., the outstanding steel or whalebone foundation being mainly at the bottom of the skirt instead of at the hips. Sir Roger de Coverley thus expresses the difference between the earlier hooped petticoats and those of the era of the _Spectator_: "You see, sir, my great-great-grandmother has on the new-fashioned petticoat, except that the modern is gathered at the waist; my grandmother appears as if she stood in a large drum, whereas the ladies now walk as if they were in a go-cart."

It is surprising to find in dress, as in ornamental design, the same ideas, the same ornamental _motifs_, occurring to the people of countries widely separate. There is a curious dress appropriated to the young women of Otaheite who are appointed to make presents from persons of rank to each other; one of these was deputed to present cloths to Captain Cook on his last voyage. A representation of the dress is given in the engraving, which is from Cook's Geography, 1801. The proportions of the drum exceed even that of Queen Elizabeth; in general shape, however, it is similar. It is decorated round the uppermost edge with ornamental festoons of feathers, &c., and constitutes the complete dress of the lady, with the exception of a sort of chemise which appears underneath the breasts, and, presumably, covers the loins and a portion of the lower limbs.

The hoop petticoat now approaches its highest meridian; its re-appearance was duly announced by Addison, who, in No. 129 of the _Spectator_, relates an adventure which happened in a little country church in Cornwall: "As we were in the midst of service, a lady, who is the chief woman of the place, and had passed the winter at London with her husband, entered the congregation in a little head-dress and a hooped petticoat. The people, who were wonderfully startled at such a sight, all of them rose up. Some stared at the prodigious bottom, and some at the little top, of this strange dress. In the meantime the lady of the manor _filled the area of the church_ and walked up to the pew with an unspeakable satisfaction, amid the whispers, conjectures, and astonishments of the whole congregation."

Between 1740 and 1745 the hoops spread out at the sides extensively in oblong fashion, resembling a donkey carrying its panniers. Indeed, the simile of the donkey was a favourite one with the caricaturists. In 1860 _Punch_ adopts the idea, and issues a warning to ladies who would ride in crinolines on donkeys, and gives a cut of a lady in an enormous crinoline riding on a donkey, with nothing but the donkey's hind legs seen below.

_From an engraving by R. Elstracke._]

A poetic description of ladies' dresses in 1773 directs:

"Make your petticoats short, that a hoop eight yards wide
May decently show how your garters are tied."

Indeed, the hoop of this period had attained to such enormous proportions that, as Fairholt observes, the figure of a lady was considerable; for they were now not only the better, but the larger, half of creation, and half a dozen men might be accommodated in the space occupied by a single lady.[16]

In a print entitled "The Review," of the latter part of the reign of George II., the inconveniences of the hoop petticoat are exhibited in a variety of ways, and various methods for their remedy are suggested. One of the most ingenious is that of a coach with a moveable roof and a frame with pulleys to drop the ladies in from the top, in order to avoid the disarranging of their hoops which would necessarily attend their entrance by the door.

Hoop petticoats disappeared early in the reign of George III., and the genius of extravagance then turned its attention to the head-dress.

_Engraved by Isidore-Stanilas Helman._]

In the expiring years of the fifties of the last century the crinoline _proper_ appeared. There had been hints of it earlier, not to say threats, in the bell-shaped skirts which obtained in about 1835, of which the charming creature in the London promenade dress (p. 55) provides an example.

The chief satirist of the crinoline is _Punch_, although, amongst others, an amusing skit on the difficulties and dangers of the crinoline appeared about 1870, with a number of coloured illustrations by "Quiz," now very rare.

_Punch_ appears to have been particularly impressed by the "roomy" character of the crinoline, as, in an amusing if somewhat laboured skit in the early days of 1860, he unbosoms himself as follows:

"Among the million objections to the use of the wide petticoats not the least well-founded is the fact that they are used for purposes of shoplifting. This has many times been proved at the bar of the police courts, and we wonder that more notice has not been attracted to it. For ourselves, the fact is so impressed upon our mind, that when we ever come in contact with a Crinoline which seems more than usually wide, we immediately put down the wearer as a pick-pocket, and prepare ourselves at once to see her taken up. Viewing Crinoline, indeed, as an incentive to bad conduct, we forbid our wives and daughters to wear it when out shopping, for fear that it may tempt them to commit some act of theft. A wide petticoat is so convenient a hiding-place for stowing away almost any amount of stolen goods, that we cannot be surprised at finding it so used, and for the mere sake of keeping them from roguery, the fewer women have it at their fingers' ends the better. Some ladies have a monomania for thievery, and when they go on a day's shopping can hardly keep their hands off what does not belong to them. Having a commodious receptacle in reach, wherein they may deposit whatever they may sack, they are naturally tempted to indulge in their propensity, by the chances being lessened that they will be found out.

"As an instance of how largely the large petticoats are used in acts of petty larceny, we may mention a small fact which has come within our knowledge, and which it may be to the interest of shopkeepers to know. Concealed beneath the skirts of a fashionably dressed female were, the other day, discovered by a vigilant detective the following choice proofs of her propensity to plunder: viz., twenty-three shawls, eleven dozen handkerchiefs, sixteen pairs of boots (fifteen of them made up with the military heel), a case of eau-de-Cologne, a ditto of black hair-dye, thirty pairs of stays, twenty-six chemises, five dozen cambric handkerchiefs, and eleven ditto silk, nineteen muslin collars, and four-and-forty crochet ones, a dressing case, five hair brushes (three of them made with tortoiseshell and two with ivory gilt backs), a pair of curling irons, eight bonnets without trimmings and nine-and-twenty with them, a hundred rolls of ribbon, half a hundredweight of worsted, ten dozen white kid gloves and twenty dozen coloured ones, forty balls of cotton, nine-and-ninety skeins of silk, a gridiron, two coal-scuttles, three packets of ham sandwiches, twenty-five mince pies, half a leg of mutton, six boxes of French plums, ten ditto of bonbons, nine pâtés de foie gras, a dozen cakes of chocolate and nine of portable hare soup, a warming pan, five bracelets, a brace of large brass birdcages, sixteen bowls of goldfish, half a score of lapdogs, fourteen dozen lever watches, and an eight-day kitchen clock.

"After this discovery, who will venture to deny that Crinoline with shoplifters is comparable to charity, inasmuch as it may cover a multitude of sins?"

A curious advertisement in the _Illustrated London News_ of October 10, 1863, announces that--"Ondina, or waved Jupons, do away with the unsightly results of the ordinary hoops, and so perfect are the wave-like bands that a lady may ascend a steep stair, lean against a table, throw herself into an armchair, pass to a stall in the opera, or occupy a fourth seat in a carriage without inconvenience to herself or to others, or provoking rude remarks of the observers, thus modifying in an important degree all those peculiarities tending to destroy the modesty of English women, and lastly, it allows the dress to fall into graceful folds. Price 21s. Illustrations free." With all these advantages, who would not wear a crinoline?

In the new year of 1860 _Punch_ gives a cut ("Some good account at last") of a skater in pot-hat and pegtops, encircled by the framework of an enormous crinoline, cutting graceful figures upon the ice and exclaiming, "Entirely my own idea, Harry--ease, elegance, and safety combined--I call it the skater's friend." "Some good account at last"? Unkind Mr. Punch! Must we, then, measure the value of everything in this world by its bare utility? The crinoline will endure as a sweet solace to senses tired by the ennui of this dull earth. The memory of it will outlive the ages.

In the early seventies we find our old friend _Punch_ again upon the warpath, and the Venus of Milo dons the crinoletta! This, however, is only a repetition of his satire on the crinoline in his "Essence of Parliament," May, 1860:--

"Lord Aberdeen's son, Lord Haddock, or some such name, made a supremely ridiculous speech upon the impropriety of allowing money to any school of Art in which the undraped she-model was studied from. His father, who was called Athenian Aberdeen, and has so earnest a love for Greek Art that he actually favoured Russia because she has a Greek Church, ought to have cured his Haddock of such nonsense. Poor old Mr. Spooner, naturally, took the same really indelicate view of the case. Sir George Lewis expressed his lofty contempt for the Haddock, and Lord Palmerston kippered him in a speech full of good fun. It is impossible that the same country which contains Macdowell's Eve, and Bailey's Eve at the Fountain, can hold Haddock and Spooner. Mr. Punch must avow that he prefers keeping the diviner images, and somehow getting rid of the coarser ones. Pam wanted to know whether the latter would like to stick crinoline on the models, or would be content with African garb. The other Wiscount observed, with more truth than politeness, 'Nude, indeed! I knewed Addock was a Nass.'"

AN OLD PARASITE IN A NEW FORM.

_By Linley Sambourne ("Punch")._]

An illustration is appended to the article of a figure resembling a fish in the act of adjusting a crinoline on the Venus de Medici. The crinoline rests upon the shoulders of the statue like a huge extinguisher.

As previously hinted, the crinoletta was only a faint echo of the glories of its earlier prototype. It was a cylindrical contrivance, made up of steels or whalebones, either covered with a series of flounces, or worn underneath the dress like a big bustle. In fact, it began as a bustle, and gradually extended its proportions, wagging and swaying from side to side like the tail of a dragon, as the wearer moved. One well remembers--shall we, indeed, ever forget?--these singular "contraptions" displayed unblushingly in drapers' shops, and even hanging in bundles at the doors.

"Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
The cry is still, 'They come.'"

FOOTNOTES:

[16] Fairholt, "Costume in England."

VII

COLLARS AND CUFFS

"_Theodorus._ Have they not also houses to set their ruffes in, to
trim them and to trick them, as well as to starch them in?

"_Amphilogus._ Yea, marry have they, for either the same starching
houses do serve the turn, or else they have their other chambers
and secret closets to the same use, wherein they tricke up these
cartwheeles of the divels charet of pride, leading the direct way
to the dungeon of hell."

STUBBES, _Anatomy of Abuses_.

VII

COLLARS AND CUFFS

It is to be understood that the terms "collar" and "cuff" are here only intended to refer to those of linen, lace, or similar material, which are more or less separate from the rest of the costume. A "collar" is simply a neck-band, and may be of any material; in the case of Gurth, "born thrall of Cedric the Saxon," it was of iron, and was the symbol of his servitude. The term "collar" is also applied to certain articles of jewellery--

"The collar of some order, which our King
Hath newly founded, all for thee, my soul."

TENNYSON, _Last Tournament_.

Collars are of a comparatively modern origin, although some form of covering for the neck has been employed from a very early period. The Romans made use of chin-cloths for the protection of the neck and throat, which were termed "focalia." These were worn by public orators, who from professional considerations were fearful of taking cold, and who, doubtless, contributed in no small degree to render the fashion of chin-cloths general. Some, says a writer on Roman antiquities (the Rev. Father Adam), made use of a handkerchief (sudarium) for this purpose. This is probably the origin of the cravat, which is in many countries called neck-handkerchief.

_Engraved by Wierix._]

The thorax, of otter's skin, worn by Charlemagne during the colder months, has already been referred to in a previous chat.

The wimple, also, which was a development of the Roman chin-cloth, and which was worn for such an extended period from the Norman Conquest onwards, is noticed under head-coverings.

During the greater part of the period of York and Lancaster necks were worn bare, the "camise" appearing at the V-shaped junction of the bodice, the neck being ornamented with jewellery.

Shirt-bands were originally connected with neck-ruffs, and the ornament adjoined to the wristband of the shirt was known by the denomination of "ruffle," and was originally called the hand-ruff. In the inventory of apparel belonging to Henry VIII. occurs the item, "4 shirts with bands of silver and ruffles to the same, whereof one is perled with gold."

The ruff is said to have been first invented in the reign of Henry VI. by a Spanish lady of quality, to hide a wen which grew upon her neck. Its first appearance in England was about the time of the marriage of Queen Mary with Philip of Spain, these personages being represented upon the Great Seal of England in 1554 with small ruffs on the necks and wrists. The ruff appears in none of the portraits by Holbein, with the exception of one at Antwerp, which is dated 1543, the year before the painter's death, and is, moreover, a doubtful work. In many portraits by this master, however, the lawn or cambric shirt appears at the neck with the edges ruffled, and often delicately embroidered. In the well-known portrait of the Duchess of Milan belonging to the Duke of Norfolk, and at present in the National Gallery, such a ruffle appears at the neck and also at the wrists, the edges emphasised by a narrow embroidered border in black silk. This black embroidering was very generally employed during the reign of Henry VIII. It appears in a number of Holbein's portraits, both at the wrists and at the neck, and is quite probably due to Holbein's influence. There can be no reasonable doubt that this great painter influenced the dress of his time. The influence of his artistic personality would be considerable, and it is known that he designed dresses for the ladies of the court, several drawings for which are in the Basle Museum. In the inventory of the apparel of Henry VIII. appears: "One payer of sleves, passed over the arms with gold and silver, quilted with black silk, and ruffled at the hand with strawberry leaves and flowers of gold, embroidered with black silk."

Starching at this period had not reached England; ruffs, therefore, must have been an expensive luxury, as the starched linen, imported from Flanders, could not be worn after being washed.

In 1564, one Madame Dinghen, who, as her name suggests, hailed from Flanders, set up as a clear starcher in London, and appears to have made the trade of clear starching an extremely lucrative one. Her terms were four or five pounds for teaching "the most curious wives"[17] to starch, and one pound for the art of seething starch. The "curious wives" subsequently made themselves ruffs of lawn; whereupon arose the general scoffing by-word that they would shortly make their ruffs of spider's web.

_From an engraving by Goltzius._]

A certain Richard Young, described as a justice, for a long time held the monopoly of the manufacture of starch in this country. From the Elizabethan State Papers we learn that in 1589 there was a prosecution against an infringer of the patent, to wit, Charles Glead, a gentleman of Kent, who declared to the Queen's messengers that he would make starch in the face of any patent or warrant yet granted, unless set down by Act of Parliament.

Setting-sticks, strutts, and poking-sticks were the tools used in the process of starching; the first made of wood or bone, and the latter of iron, which was heated in the fire. It was this heated tool which produced that beautiful regularity characteristic of this article of attire.

"They be made of yron or steele, and some of brass kept as bright as silver, yea, and some of silver itselfe; and it is well if in processe of time they grow not to be gold. The fashion whereafter they be made, I cannot resemble to anything so well as to a squirt, or a squibbe, which little children used, to squirt out water withall; and when they come to starching and setting of their ruffes, then must this instrument be heated in the fire, the better to stiffen the ruffe ... and if you woulde know the name of this goodly toole, forsooth, the devill hath given it to name a putter, or else a putting sticke, as I heare say" (Stubbes, "Anatomy of Abuses").

Upon the introduction of these tools, together with starch, ruffs rapidly increased in their proportions.

_Engraved by Jan Muller._]

"They became," says Stow, "intolerably large," and were known in London as the "French fashion," in Paris as the "English monster." The greatest gallant was he who possessed the longest rapier and the deepest ruff. It became necessary to apply one of the usual remedies against these and other extravagances of dress--a proclamation, or an Act of Parliament; in this instance a proclamation. Citizens were compelled to reduce their rapiers to a yard in length and their ruffs to "a nail of a yard" in depth.

The unfinished engraving of the Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia, Archduchess of Austria,[18] will serve to give a very good idea of the dimensions and general appearance of these articles of attire.

Thus friend Philip Stubbes:--"They have now newly found out a more monstrous kind of ruff, of twelve, yea, sixteen lengths apiece, set three or four times double, and it is of some, fitly called, 'three steps and an half to the gallows.'"

The "divells cartwheele" attained its greatest circumference in 1582, when that love of change, inherent in the feminine breast, or possibly the grave and reverend appearance of the ruff, occasioned a revolt amongst the younger women, who were disinclined to hide the beauties of their swan-like necks and throats. The ruff was therefore opened in front and elevated behind. This was the gorget or whisk, which was used both plain and laced.

A curious advertisement appears in the _Mercurius Publicus_, of May 8, 1662:--

"A cambric whisk, with Flanders lace, about a quarter of a yard broad, and a lace turning up about an inch broad, with a stock in the neck and strap hangers down before, was lost between New Palace and Whitehall. Reward, twenty shillings."

These whisks appear to have had a special proclivity for getting lost. Planché ("Cyclopedia of Costume") gives a similar advertisement:--

"'Lost, a tiffany whisk, with a great lace down and a little one up, large flowers, with a rail for the head and peak' (_The Newes_, June 20, 1664)."

On account of the weight of the "whisk"--it was formed of a wire framework covered with point lace--the "piccadilly" or stiffened collar was devised.

Hone in his "Everyday Book" writes--

"The picadil was the round hem, or the piece set about the edge or skirt of a garment, whether at top or bottom; also a kind of stiff collar, made in fashion of a band, that went about the neck and round about the shoulders: hence the term 'wooden picadilloes' (meaning the pillory) in Hudibras. At the time that ruffs and picadils were much in fashion, there was a celebrated ordinary near St. James's, called Piccadilly, because, as some say, it was the outmost or skirt house, situate at the end of the town; but it more probably took its name from one Higgins, a tailor, who made a fortune by picadils, and built this with a few adjoining houses. The name has by a few been derived from a much frequented house for the sale of these articles; but this probably took its rise from the circumstance of Higgins having built houses there, which, however, were not for selling ruffs."

Picardil is the diminutive of "picca," a pike or spear head, and was given to this article of attire from the resemblance of its stiffened edges to the points of spears. Philips ("World of Words," 1693) defines pickardil as the "hem about the skirt of a garment--the extremity or utmost end of everything." Whether the collar gave the name to the district or the district to the collar is a matter of some uncertainty; probably, however, the former. The thoroughfare which we now know as Piccadilly certainly did not exist at the time the picadil was first worn, and the district was then "the utmost end of everything"--that is, beyond the confines of the town.

Piccadilly as a place, or thoroughfare, is mentioned in "The Rehearsal," by George Villiers, second Duke of Buckingham, produced in the winter of 1671:--

"His servants he into the country sent,
And he himself to Piccadillé went."

A pickadil is mentioned in the old comedy of "Northward Ho" as part of a woman's dress.

On the visit of James I. to Cambridge in 1615, the Vice-Chancellor of the University thought fit to issue an order prohibiting "the fearful enormity and excess of apparel seen in all degrees, as, namely, _strange piccadilloes_, vast bands, huge cuffs, shoe-roses, tufts, locks and tops of hair, unbeseeming that modesty and carriage of students in so renowned a university."

The Church was still more fierce in its denunciation of these articles of attire. Hall, Bishop of Exeter, in a sermon, after having severely censured ruffs, farthingales, feathers, and paint, concludes with these words, which more than equal anything in Stubbes: "Hear this, ye popinjays of our time: hear this, ye plaster-faced Jezabels: God will one day wash them with fire and with brimstone."

_Engraved by Goltzius._]

There appears to be considerable contradiction of terms, as applied to the different collars, both with the writers of the time and with subsequent writers. Barnabe Rich, in his "Honesty of the Age," says: "The body is still pampered up in the very dropsy of excess.... He that some forty years sithence should have asked after a pickadilly, I wonder who should have understood him or could have told what a pickadilly had been, either fish or flesh."

There was, however, the small ruff, such as is seen in the portraits of Sir Thomas Gresham and Philip II. of Spain (pp. 121-123). There was the large formal ruff which appears in the portrait of Lord Burleigh (p. 93), and the still larger ruff of the Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia (p. 187). There was the less formal ruff which fell upon the shoulders, which is seen in many portraits by Franz Hals. There was the high standing pointed collar, such as appears in William Rogers's print of Queen Elizabeth. There was a plain high-standing collar without lace, which went round the back of the head. There was the plain collar of the Cromwellians, which covered the shoulders, and there was also the rich lace collar of the latter part of the reign of Charles I. The plaits of the ruff were occasionally pinned, the rows being sometimes two and three deep. In the "Antiquary," a comedy by Shakerley Marmion, 1641, quoted by Strutt, a lover says to his mistress: "Do you not remember what taskes you were wont to put upon me when I bestowed you gowns and petticoats: and you in return gave me bracelets and shoe-ties? How you fool'd me, and set me sometimes to pin pleats in your ruff two hours together?"

_After Vandyck. Engraved by W. Sharp._]

In an old play called "Lingua; or, the Combat of the Tongue and the Five Senses for Superiority," 1607, one of the characters remarks:--

"It is five hours ago since I set a dozen maids to attire a boy like a nice gentlewoman; but there is such doing with their looking-glasses; pinning, unpinning, setting, unsetting, formings and conformings; painting of blue veins, and rosy cheeks; such a stir with combs, cascanets, purls, falls, squares, busks, bodices, scarfs, necklaces, carkonels, rabatoes, borders, tires, fans, palisadoes, puffs, ruffs, cuffs, muffs, pustles, fusles, partlets, frislets, bandlets, fillets, corslets, pendulets, amulets, annulets, bracelets, and so many lets that the poor lady of the toilet is scarce dressed to the girdle. And now there is such calling for fardingales, kirtles, busk-points, shoe-ties and the like, that seven pedlars' shops, nay, all Stourbridge fair, will scarcely furnish. A ship is sooner rigged by far than a nice gentlewoman made ready."

Towards the latter part of the reign of Charles I. both ruff and whisk give place to the falling band, which was worn both plain and laced. It had, indeed, appeared earlier, even in the latter years of Elizabeth, but was not in general use until the time of Charles. The trouble occasioned by the ruff and whisk appears to have been a factor of their downfall. A character in the "Malecontent," 1604, exclaims: "There is such a deal of pinning these ruffles when a fine cleane _fall_ is worth all."

The cravat, or neckcloth, which succeeded the ruff and band, did not come into general use until the latter part of the reign of the Merry Monarch; indeed, some similar form of neck covering became a necessity, on account of the monstrous size of the periwigs. It formed a large bow at the chin, with the ends richly laced. There was a variety of the neckcloth which was twisted like a corkscrew, the ends being drawn through a ring. This was called a "Steinkirk," from the circumstance of the French officers at the battle of that name in 1692, who could not find time to arrange their cravats, and adopted the readier means of twisting them in a knot. The laced ends of the cravat afterwards increased in size, and were drawn through the button-hole of the waistcoat.

"One of the knots of his tye hanging down his left shoulder, and his fringed cravat nicely twisted down his breast, and thrust through his gold button-hole, which looked exactly like my little Barbet's head in his gold collar" (David Garrick, "Bon Ton; or, High Life Below Stairs," 1775).

From a singular little pocket-manual upon the art of tying the cravat, by H. Le Blanc, Esq., published in 1828, it would appear that there are no less than two-and-thirty different styles of tying the cravat. These are demonstrated in sixteen lessons, with illustrations, together with portrait of the author, figured, as a matter of course, in an irreproachable cravat.

"When a man of rank makes his _entrée_ into a circle distinguished for taste and elegance, and the usual compliments have passed on both sides, he will discover that his coat will attract only a slight degree of attention, but that the most critical and scrutinising examination will be made on the _set_ of his Cravat. Should this unfortunately not be correctly and elegantly put on--no further notice will be taken of him; whether his coat be of the reigning fashion or not will be unnoticed by the assembly--all eyes will be occupied in examining the folds of the fatal Cravat.

"His reception will in the future be cold, and no one will move on his entrance; but if his Cravat is _savamment_ and elegantly formed--although his coat may not be of the last _cut_--every one will rise to receive him with the most distinguished marks of respect, will cheerfully resign their seats to him, and the delighted eyes of all will be fixed on that part of his person which separates the shoulders from the chin--let him speak down-right nonsense he will be applauded to the skies; it will be said--'This man has critically and deeply studied the thirty-two lessons on the Art of Tying the Cravat.' But again reverse the picture--it will be found that the unfortunate individual who is not aware of the existence of this justly celebrated work--however well informed he may be on other subjects--will be considered as an ignorant pretender, and will be compelled to suffer the impertinence of the fop, who will treat him with disdain, merely because his Cravat is not correctly disposed--he will moreover be obliged to hear in silence, and to approve (under pain of being considered unacquainted with the common rules of politeness) all the remarks which he will thus subject himself to--occasionally relieved by hearing a whisper of, 'He cannot even put on a Cravat properly.'"

The reader will not expect, possibly will experience little desire, to be taken through the whole of the two-and-thirty lessons in the art of tying the cravat; a single illustration will probably suffice. It shall be, however, "the sovereign of cravat ties, the 'Nœud Gordien,' the origin of which is lost in the obscurity of antiquity."

The discovery of the name of the brilliant genius to whom the honour of this invention is due has, apparently, defied the most laborious researches on the part of the author. He can only tell us (what he believes is generally known) that Alexander the Great, although he could conquer a whole world, and, like a youthful character in the works of the immortal Dickens, _sigh for more_ (soup, however, in the case of the juvenile), was still unable to comprehend the theory of its construction, and adopted the shorter and easier method of cutting it with his sword.

"Attention!"

Cravats when sent from the laundress should undergo a careful examination as to the washing, ironing, and folding, as the set of the cravat and neatness of the tie _entirely depends upon this_. Whether it be plain or coloured is apparently of little moment, and does not in the least affect its formation, but a stout one is recommended as offering more facilities to the daring fingers of the tyro who would accomplish this _chef-d'œuvre_.

It now becomes necessary to meditate deeply and seriously upon the five following directions:--

1. Having carefully chosen the cravat, it must be placed on the neck, the ends left hanging (first time).

2. Take point K, pass it on the inside of point Z, and raise it (second time).

3. Lower point K on the tie, now half formed O (third time).

4. Then, without leaving point K, bend it inside and draw it between the point Z, which you repass to the left Y; in the tie now formed, Y O, thus accomplishing the formation of the knot.

5. "And last." Having accomplished the knot, flattened it with thumb and fore-finger, or with the iron (a small iron is recommended, with a handle, made expressly for the purpose, and moderately warm), you lower the points K Z, cross them, place a pin at the point of junction H, at once solving the problem which defied the greatest of the world's conquerors.

"_The slightest error in the first fold of this tie will render all succeeding efforts, with the same handkerchief, entirely useless--we have said it._"[19]

Although, as previously intimated, it is not proposed to wander through the labyrinth of the whole of the two-and-thirty lessons, two others may with advantage be referred to. Our author, though somewhat facetious, is distinctly entertaining.

A. The Cravat folded. B. The Cravat à la Byron. S. The Cravat Sentimentale.]

"The Cravat Sentimentale."

This, as its name implies, should only be adopted by those whose physiognomy inspires the tender passion. It may be worn from the age of "seventeen to twenty-seven; after that age it cannot, with propriety, be patronised even by the most agreeable."

"You, then, whom Nature has not gifted with eyes of fire--with complexions rivalling the rose and lily; you, to whom she has denied pearly teeth and coral lips--a gift which, in our opinion, would be somewhat inconvenient; you, in fact, whose faces do not possess that sympathetic charm which, in a moment--at a glance--spreads confusion o'er the senses," &c., pause before adopting the cravat sentimentale--avoid it, in fact; leave it to more highly favoured mortals.

"The Cravat à la Byron."

This must be worn by none but those who would mount the topmost slopes of Parnassus, and drink deeply of the Castalian spring.[20] Our author does not, indeed, say so, but the fact is sufficiently evident.

It is universally allowed that the least constraint on the body has a corresponding effect on the mind; a tight cravat, therefore, will "cramp the imagination and, as it were, suffocate the thoughts." This is the reason why Lord Byron submitted to the inconveniences of a cravat, only "when accommodating himself to the _bienséances_ of society," and explains the fact that "whenever he is painted in the ardour of composition his neck is always free from the trammels of the neckcloth."

Black silk cravats, at the time of our author's writing (1828), were generally worn, and coloured silk handkerchiefs occasionally patronised. It appears that Napoleon invariably wore a black silk cravat, but at Waterloo it was observed that, contrary to his usual custom, he wore a white neckerchief with a flowing bow, although the day previous he appeared in his black cravat. The superstitiously inclined will note this fact; it is, however, extremely unlikely that the change influenced in the slightest degree the result of the battle.

In the late thirties and early forties Dame Fashion turned her attention in the direction of embroidered muslin. Delicate floral patterns, often displaying considerable taste in design and a high degree of technical skill, were wrought upon collarettes, cuffs, chemisettes, &c.; it was chiefly produced in the north of Ireland, and an extensive trade arose, finding employment for large numbers of women and girls in the counties of Donegal, Tyrone, and Down. The delicacy of the material and the absence of colour, lent itself insensibly to a naturalistic treatment.

As is usual with the caprices of fashion, the art only lasted for a comparatively brief period. It still survives, however, in the form of embroidered handkerchiefs, for which there is even now a demand.

FOOTNOTES:

[17] Stow.

[18] This lady, in 1601, registered a vow not to change her linen until the town of Ostend was taken. The siege lasted three years and three months, by which time her under-clothing had attained a colour which is perhaps easier to imagine than to describe. It provided a name for a stuff, "Couleur Isabella," which was fashionable in France for over a century.

[19] "What I have said, I have said" (the Right Hon. Joseph Chamberlain).

[20] The Castalian spring is at the _foot_ of the mountain, but it should have been at the top, where the tired and thirsty traveller would be most likely to need it. Besides, it is not to be expected that we could reverse the order of the paragraph--"_we have said it_."

VIII

HATS, CAPS, AND BONNETS

"'In _that_ direction,' the Cat said, waving his right paw round,
'lives a Hatter; and in _that_ direction,' waving the other paw,
'lives a March Hare. Visit either you like; they're both mad.'"

_Alice's Adventures in Wonderland._

_Bodleian MS. (free rendering)._]

VIII

HATS, CAPS, AND BONNETS

Mad as a hatter? How comes an honest craft to be thus maligned? Hatters were never mad--that is, not more so than the rest of us--until they adopted the pot of the chimney as a model.[21]

Nature has provided in the hair a natural covering for the head. Hats are not really a necessity.

Dr. Jaeger ("Health Culture") discusses the probable reasons for the greater prevalence of baldness among men than among women. While rejecting the theory that the competition of the beard is precarious to the hair of the head, abstracting from the latter its due nourishment, and pointing out that the long beards and luxuriant heads of hair of our ancestors refute this theory that the more strenuous head-work which falls to the share of the male sex is responsible for the loss of hair; that the unnatural custom of cutting men's hair, first adopted when nature was abandoned in favour of the fashions of civilisation, is to blame for it; that drink, dissolute habits, or heredity is the cause--he finds that a far more probable cause is the difference between the male and female head-covering, "which latter is, as a rule, lighter, more airy, and more porous than the usually almost waterproof and exceedingly absurd male head-coverings, such as the stiff felt hats, and high hats, with the strip of leather which encircles the forehead and effectually retains the perspiration."

"The best head-covering would certainly be--none at all. But usage, and in many cases weather conditions, render this impracticable."... "Not only are the hard hats, now in such general use, injurious on account of the pores of the material being closed, impeding the passage of the exhalation from the head; but the shellac used in stiffening them has an injurious effect, from which the cherry gum used in the case of the soft hats is comparatively free." He adds: "Of course, soft hats cannot be worn in all cases--on ceremonial occasions the hard hat may be chosen; but ordinarily the hygienically superior soft hat should be worn." Why, however, on occasions of ceremony? Was ceremonial non-existent before the advent of the nineteenth century? It would rather appear that if the nineteenth century is conspicuous for anything it is for its _absence_ of ceremonial. There is absolutely no reason why a hat of a particular density, or even of a particular shape, should be necessary to occasions of high ceremonial. Moreover, in this connection it may be very pertinently asked, Is artistic invention so utterly dead that it cannot devise a head-gear which shall fit in with its surroundings on such occasions as call for more dignity and impressiveness in the matter of costume? It is, however, an incontrovertible fact, as a well-known present-day writer has pointed out, that "revolutions are practicable in everything--in manners, morals, government, even religion--sooner than in clothes; and that sumptuary laws are the only laws that have always failed of being obeyed." It is universally admitted that modern dress is intolerably ugly; that it fails, not only upon its artistic side, but also upon the score of utility; yet every suggestion for its improvement is always met by a flat _non possumus_.

_After Romney._]

Some form of hood was, doubtless, the earliest covering for the head, either as a separately made-up article, or, as in the case of the Greeks and Romans, formed by the drawing of the pallium or toga over the head to serve as protection during inclement weather. The Romans had a hooded cloak (cucullus) which was worn by the commoner people, and which, in some form or another, has been in use during all subsequent periods. It is, in fact, generally worn at the present day in most parts of the Continent of Europe, and forms an extremely reasonable and convenient article of attire.

The hood formed the principal covering for the head of both sexes during the twelfth, thirteenth, and part of the fourteenth centuries. The hood (chaperon) was a separate article of dress as distinct from the cowl (capuchon), which was attached to and formed part of the cloak or other article of dress, although the two terms are indiscriminately used by the earlier writers.

The hood assumed, in the first instance, more or less the form of the Phrygian cap. The tippet, or tail, was afterwards developed to a considerable length, in the thirteenth century reaching almost to the ground. Dante is usually represented in such a hood, with long tippet, and in the portrait of Cimabue by Simon Memmi, _c._ 1300, the painter appears wearing a hood with a tippet reaching a little below the middle.

The cap or hood worn by "fools" was simply the hood of the fashion of the particular period, with the addition of the cock's comb, the pair of ass's ears and the bells, occasionally worn all together, and often parti-coloured.

In the wardrobe accounts of Henry VIII. occurs--"Item, for making a doublet of worsted, lined with canvass and cotton, for William Som'ar, our fool; item, for making of a coat and cap of green cloth fringed with red crule and lined with frize for our said fool."

The men's turbaned head-dress of the reign of Richard II. and later is sufficiently remarkable to warrant a description. It was a long cloth, wound round and round the head--the edges cut, clipped and jagged in various ways--one end of which either stood up on the top of the head or was allowed to fall over the side of the turban, the other end hanging down in front of the body, longer or shorter according to the fancy or caprice of the wearer, the whole presenting a very fantastic appearance, occasionally, however, not ungraceful.

_Orcagna, Campo Santa, Pisa._]

The beginning of this head-dress was simply a different way of wearing the hood, as Mr. Planché has shown by means of two diagrams in his "Encylopedia of Costume." It occurred to some ingenious soul to insert his head in the oval opening in the hood made for the face, to gather up in the form of a fan the portion which covered the shoulders, and to bind it in position by winding the long tippet round the head and tucking in the end of it. Later, no doubt, the head-dress was formally made up by the hatter or tailor, as the case may be, and assumed a more complex character.

_Orcagna, Campo Santa, Pisa._]

The Greeks, when travelling, protected their heads from the heat or the wet by means of a flat broad-brimmed hat, tied underneath the chin, and allowed to hang on the back when not required on the head. This fashion or device was continued during the Middle Ages, and the hat was often worn over the hood (although this would seem a superfluity), the strings were secured at the breast by means of a moveable ring, which, by being moved up underneath the chin, kept the hat in its place on the head. Such a hat was figured on the wall of the old Palace at Westminster, and has been published in the "Vetusta Monumenta" of the Society of Antiquaries.

During the greater part of the Norman and Plantagenet period the _wimple_ or neck-cloth was common. It was a development of the Anglo-Saxon veil or head-cloth (couvre-chef), and an echo of the mailed coif of the period. It is thus referred to by John de Meun: "Par Dieu! I have often thought in my heart, when I have seen a lady so closely tied up, that her neck-cloth was nailed to her chin, or that she had the pins hooked into her flesh."