Curiosities of Literature Volume I Part 32

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 fas.h.i.+ons 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 coa.r.s.e for me to transcribe, the consequences of these very tight dresses. Of these persons, among other offensive matters, he sees "the b.u.t.tokkes 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 fas.h.i.+ons 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 fas.h.i.+ons 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 fas.h.i.+ons in Europe, and even Asia, in the reign of Elizabeth. In Chaucer's time, the prevalence of French fas.h.i.+ons 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 p.r.o.nunciation. 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 fas.h.i.+on 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 fas.h.i.+on 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 _a la Turquesque_; the cape _alla Spaniola_; the breech _a la Francoise_, and, by twentie maner of new-fas.h.i.+oned 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 fas.h.i.+ons in the world. About the same period the _ton_ ran in a different course in France. There, fas.h.i.+on 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 fas.h.i.+ons 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 fas.h.i.+on; 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 circ.u.mference 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 a.s.sailed: 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 fas.h.i.+ons, 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 Pla.s.se, borne at Taenen in Flaunders, daughter to a wors.h.i.+pfull 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 s.h.i.+llings how to _seeth starch_."

Thus Italy, Holland, and France supplied us with fas.h.i.+ons 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 n.o.ble personages made them _ruffes, a full quarter of a yeard deepe_, and two lengthe in one ruffe. This _fas.h.i.+on_ in _London_ was called the _French fas.h.i.+on_; 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 "Ill.u.s.trations 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 fas.h.i.+ons. 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, ent.i.tled, "A just and seasonable reprehension of _naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s and shoulders_." In 1672 a book was published, ent.i.tled, "New instructions unto youth for their behaviour, and also a discourse upon some innovations of habits and dressing; _against powdering of hair_, _naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s_, _black spots_ (or patches), and other unseemly customs."A whimsical fas.h.i.+on 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s; and a variety of fantastical patches on her face.

The innovations of fas.h.i.+ons 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 sanct.i.ty. 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 fas.h.i.+on, and they were performing perpetually their wors.h.i.+p 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 a.s.signation, and describing his sufferings in bad weather by lamenting that "his _wig_ and his linen were dripping with the h.o.a.r 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 fas.h.i.+onable lady of that day much resembles the mythological figure of Cybele, the mother of the G.o.ds, with three towers on her head.[66]

It is not worth noticing the changes in fas.h.i.+on, unless to ridicule them. However, there are some who find amus.e.m.e.nt in these records of luxurious idleness; these thousand and one follies! Modern fas.h.i.+ons, 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 aera 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 b.u.t.tons 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 fas.h.i.+ons.

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 Ta.s.so, 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 fas.h.i.+ons which have become extinct in my own days.

STANZAS

ADDRESSED TO LAURA, ENTREATING HER NOT TO PAINT, TO POWDER, OR TO GAME, BUT TO RETREAT INTO THE COUNTRY.

AH, LAURA! quit the noisy town, And FAs.h.i.+ON'S persecuting reign: Health wanders on the breezy down, And Science on the silent plain.

How long from Art's reflected hues Shalt thou a mimic charm receive?

Believe, my fair! the faithful muse, They spoil the blush they cannot give.

Must ruthless art, with tortuous steel, Thy artless locks of gold deface, In serpent folds their charms conceal, And spoil, at every touch, a grace.

Too sweet thy youth's enchanting bloom To waste on midnight's sordid crews: Let wrinkled age the night consume, For age has but its h.o.a.rds to lose.

Sacred to love and sweet repose, Behold that trellis'd bower is nigh!

That bower the verdant walls enclose, Safe from pursuing Scandal's eye.

There, as in every lock of gold Some flower of pleasing hue I weave, A G.o.ddess shall the muse behold, And many a votive sigh shall heave.

So the rude Tartar's holy rite A feeble MORTAL once array'd; Then trembled in that mortal's sight, And own'd DIVINE the power he MADE.[68]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 66: It consisted of three borders of lace of different depths, set one above the other, and was called a _Fontange_, from its inventor, Mademoiselle Font-Ange, a lady of the Court of Louis XIV.]

[Footnote 67: This was written in 1790.]

A SENATE OF JESUITS.

In a book ent.i.tled "Interets et Maximes des Princes et des Etats Souverains, par M. le duc de Rohan; Cologne, 1666," an anecdote is recorded concerning the Jesuits, which neither Puffendorf nor Vertot has noticed in his history.