Part 11

"His beard was ruddy hue, and from his head A wanton lock itself did down dispread Upon his back; to which, while he did live, Th' ambiguous name of _Elf-lock_ he did give."

_The Great Oyer._

The absurd fashion of painting and patching the face, much ridiculed by the satirists, began in the reign of Elizabeth.

"Whers the Devill? He's got a boxe of women's paint-- Where pride is, thers the Divell too."

_Quips upon Questions, 1600._

"This is an Embleame for those painted faces, Where devine beautie rests her for awhile, Filling their browes with stormes and great disgraces, That on the pained soule yeelds not a smile, But puts true love into perpetuall exile; Hard-hearted Soule, such fortune light on thee That thou maist be transform'd as well as he."

CHESTER'S _Love's Martyr_, 1601.

By the reign of James I. this ridiculous fashion had become common. All sorts of curious devices were made use of--spots, stars, crescents, and in one woodcut a coach and coachman with two horses and postilions appear upon the lady's forehead. The fashion continued for a long period; in fact, during the greater part of the Georgian era, when it had degenerated into mere spots or small patches. At the close of the eighteenth century it had entirely disappeared.[27]

"Wherfor, faire doughtres, takithe ensaumple, and holde it in your herte that ye put no thinge to poppe, painte, and fayre youre visages, the which is made after Goddes ymage, otherwise thanne your Creatoure and nature hath ordeined; and that ye plucke no browes, nother temples, nor forhed; and also that ye wasshe not the here of youre hede in none other thing but in lye and water" ("Advice of the Knight of La Tour Landry to his iij doughtres").

THE INVINCIBLE PRIDE OF WOMEN.

I have a Wife, the more's my care, who like a gaudy peacock goes, In top-knots, patches, powder'd hair, besides she is the worst of shrows; This fills my heart with grief and care to think I must this burden bear.

It is her forecast to contrive to rise about the hour of Noon, And if she's trimm'd and rigg'd by five, why this I count is very soon; Then goes she to a ball or play, to pass the pleasant night away.

And when she home returns again, conducted by a bully spark, If that I in the least complain, she does my words and actions mark, And does likewise my gullet tear, then roars like thunder in the air.

I never had a groat with her, most solemnly I here declare; Yet she's as proud as Lucifer, and cannot study what to wear: In sumptuous robes she still appears, while I am forc'd to hide my ears.

The lofty Top-knots on her crown, with which she sails abroad withal, Makes me with care, alas! look down, as having now no hope at all, That ever I shall happy be in such a flaunting Wife as she.

In debt with every shop she runs, for to appear in gaudy pride, And when the milliner she duns, I then am forc'd my head to hide: Dear friends, this proud imperious wife she makes me weary of my life.

_Roxburghe Ballads, circa 1686._

Wigs of various kinds have been in use from very early periods, as the grace and ornament which the hair imparts to the human frame have always been generally recognised. The want of it has ever been deemed a subject of reproach, held in ridicule, in all climes; hence the constant recourse to false hair.

Strutt affirms that the beards of the Egyptians, as well as the coverings for the head, appear to have been made of false hair, and removed when the face was shaved. There is no doubt that the Egyptians wore wigs, as examples are to be seen in the British and other museums.

The wig given in the illustration is probably a woman's, and was found near the small temple of Isis at Thebes. It belongs to the seventeenth dynasty, about B.C. 1500; it is formed of natural curlings of the hair in the upper portion, and the lower portion, which was originally much longer, consists of long, thin plaits, a number of which have been broken off and decayed, the thin plaitings contrasting very happily with the natural curls.

Lamprideses describes the wig of the Emperor Commodus as powdered with scrapings of gold, and oiled with glutinous perfumes for the powder to hang by.

Wigs first appear in England during the reign of Stephen, but are seldom mentioned until the Tudor period. The "Maiden Queen" is popularly supposed to have had her head shaved, and to have worn a wig. Mary Queen of Scots had a most complete collection of wigs, and it is recorded that she wore one at her execution.

The periwig first appears in history as the headgear of a fool. In the privy purse expenses of Henry VIII. for December, 1522, occurs the entry: "For a peryke for Sexton the King's fool xx shillings." By the middle of the same century their use had become general, and it was dangerous for children to wander alone, as they were liable to be deprived of their hair for the manufacture of these articles.

The periwig blossomed out during the reign of Charles II., and attained enormous proportions; it was often gaily decked with ribbons and allowed to hang over the front and back for some distance.

The gossiping Pepys, complaining in his diary of October 30, 1663, of his extravagant purchases in wigs, clothes, &c., mentions, amongst other things, two periwigs, "one whereof cost me £3 and the other 40s. I have worn neither yet, but will begin next week, God willing."

"A Londoner into the country went, To visit his tennants, and gather in rent; He on a brave gelding did gallantly ride, With boots and with spurs, and a sword by his side. Because that the Innkeepers they will not score He lined his pockets with silver good store; And he wore a wigg cost three guineas and more; His hat was cockt up, Sir, behind and before."

_Roxburghe Ballads, 1688._

Wigs when first worn were extremely expensive, costing as much as a hundred guineas, and their value often led to their being stolen from the head.

The different shapes which the wig assumed were innumerable, and the different classes of society were identified with particular shaped wigs. There were the clerical and the physical; the huge tie peruke for the man of law, the brigadier and the tremendous fox-ear or cluster of temple curls with a pigtail behind, for the Army and Navy. (The Army pigtail was shortened to seven inches in 1804, and in 1808 was cut off altogether.) The merchant, the man of business and of law affected the grave full-bottom; the tradesman was distinguished by the snug bob or natty scratch; the country gent by the natural fly and hunting peruke; "the coachman wore his, as do some to this day, in imitation of the curled hair of a water-dog."

There were also, as a writer in the _London Magazine_ of 1753 informs us, the pigeon's wing, the comet, the cauliflower, the royal bird, the staircase, the ladder, the brush, the wild boar's back, the temple, the rhinoceros, the corded wolf's paw, Count Saxe's mode, the she-dragon, the rose, the crutch, the negligent, the chancellor, the cut bob, the long bob, the half natural, the chain-buckle, the corded buckle, the snail back, and many others.

"The Judge," says Fortescue, "while he sitteth in the King's Courts, weareth a white quoife of silke, which is the principal and chiefe insignement of habite wherewith Sergeants-at-lawe are dekked, and neither the Justice nor the Sergeant shall ever put off the quoife, no, not in the King's presence, though he bee in talke with his majestie's highnesse."

The coif-cap is still worn on occasions when the Judge passes sentence of death, but with the colour changed to black, the cap being worn over the wig.

Samuel Rogers in his "Table Talk" tells a good story of Lord Ellenborough's wig. On one occasion when the distinguished Judge was about to go on circuit, his Lady intimated that she would like to accompany him. He replied that he had no objection, provided she did not encumber the carriage with band-boxes, which were his utter abhorrence. During the first day's journey, happening to stretch his legs, he struck his foot against something below the seat, and discovered that it was one of the detested band-boxes. Up went the window, and out went the band-box. The coachman stopped, and the footman, thinking that the band-box had tumbled out of the window by some extraordinary chance, was about to pick it up. "Drive on!" thundered his lordship. The band-box was accordingly left by the ditch. Upon his arrival at the court at which he was to officiate, and arraying himself for his appearance at the court-house, "Now," said he, "where's my wig?--where _is_ my wig?" "My lord," replied the attendant, "it was thrown out of the carriage window!"

From 1770 onwards was the period of the highest blossoming of feminine head-gear. The bodies of these enormous creations were formed of tow, over which the hair was drawn in great curls, rolls, bobs, &c., with false hair added, the whole freely plastered over with powder, pomatum, &c., decorated with huge bows, ribbons, feathers, and flowers.

In the "Macaroni Dialogue"--a colloquy between Sir Harry Dimple and Lady Betty Frisky--in the _Lady's Magazine_, iv. 1773, which is illustrated by a picture of a lady and gentleman discussing with great animation the merits of the male and female costumes of this period, in which they are clad, the gentleman is presenting to the lady a nosegay, and she invites his interest in the excessively lofty coiffure which she is wearing.

"Permit me to present your ladyship with this boquet--it has been to Warren's, doubly perfumed and scented; so that _positively_, my lady, it has not the least of the vulgar odour of the flowers." "I vow, Sir Harry, you are a man of such nice sensations that you would do honour to nobility. I am surprised you have hitherto been overlooked in the creation of Lords." "To be sure, my lady, my taste has never yet been called into question. It was I who first dethroned those abominable monsters the Bucks, and established the reign of the Macaronies--who first improved upon the Poudre à la maréchale by throwing in a dash of the violet. This hat your ladyship sees is of my own cocking--those barbarians the hatters have no more idea of 'de retrousser un chapeau' for a man of genuine taste, than they know how to wear it, and send it home with the smell of the dye, almost sufficient to make one faint. I always order my valet to give it a thorough perfume before it comes into my presence." "O! exquisite refinement--what do you think of my cap?" "Amazing, my lady, beyond description--yet, had it been but an inch higher, it would have been at the very summit of the mode--you would then have been unable to come into a room without stooping, or riding in a coach without the top being heightened." "You see, Sir Harry, I have anticipated you: that upon the table is _two_ inches higher; I shall wear it to-morrow night at the Pantheon." "I hope I shall have the felicity of your ladyship's hand to walk a minuet. We shall have all eyes upon us, no doubt!" "I beg, Sir Harry, that your club may be increased in proportion to my head, else we shall not be fit partners." "My lady, I shall have it as large again--my toupee shall be heightened three inches." "You will then, Sir Harry, be the emperor of the Macaronies." "And you, my lady, their empress."

In a print of the period of the French lady in London, by J. H. Grimm, published by Carrington Bowles, who appears to have been somewhat of a wag amongst publishers, devoting himself to the curious and extraordinary, the lady is seen bowing as she enters the room, the head-dress reaching to the top of the ceiling. The good man of the house is so astonished and overcome that he falls to the ground, bringing the table with him. A large picture upon the wall represents the Peak of Teneriffe.

Another print, issued by the same publisher, representing the fashionable head-dresses for the year 1776, shows two ladies out walking, attended by their black servant, with head-dresses two yards high.

In the illustration given of "Ridiculous Taste, or the Lady's Absurdity," Monsieur le Friseur is mounted on a high pair of steps, and is operating upon the summit of the lady's coiffure; a gentleman is taking stock, and giving orders from below.

In the example given from "Jacquemin," the head-dress represents a ship in full sail.

In 1776 an etching appeared entitled "Bunker's Hill, or America's Head-dress." The enormous headgear of the lady represents the battle, with tents, fortifications, cannon, and battalions. From the crests of the three hills of the head-dress, which are duly fortified and defended with soldiery and cannon, three banners are flying, on which are figured, respectively, a goose, a monkey, and two ladies holding arrows. The lower portion of the head-dress represents a sea fight.

In the same year appeared "The New Fashioned Phaeton," a mezzotint representing a conveyance provided with springs, which lifts the lady and her headgear up to the first-floor window, and does away with the need for walking up and down stairs.

Another print issued by the same publisher is a "hint to the ladies to take care of their heads." The ladies' head-dress having caught alight from a chandelier hanging from the ceiling of a high room, and people are putting out the fire by means of large squirts.

A charming design for a fancy head-dress is entitled "Betty the Cook maids Head drest." It is in the form of a heart, the centre of which is occupied by a Cheshire cheese with mice, surrounded with a border of greengrocery, &c. On the summit is a stove, with fire alight and meat cooking. A monkey sits upon the stove, wearing a fool's cap and bells, and admiring himself in a mirror. On either side of the head-dress are two trophies composed respectively of a mop and fire-irons and a besom and cooking utensils.

The legend runs--

"The taste at present all may see, But none can tell what is to be. Who knows, when fashion's whims are spread, But each may wear this kitchen head? The noddle that so vastly swells, May wear a fool's cap hung with bells."

High plumes of feathers re-appeared in 1796. Gillray produced a caricature of a fashionable belle journeying to the Assembly Rooms at Bath in a sedan chair. The top of the conveyance is opened to accommodate the lady's head-dress, a monstrous feather projecting yards above the sedan--a parasol is fastened to a long pole strapped on the back of the hindermost portion and protecting the top.

During the feather period, a favourite idea was to represent attacks by ostriches, peacocks, and other interested birds. This occurs in a number of prints of the period. The print by John Collet, 1779, of "The Feathered Fair is a Fright; or, Restore the Borrowed Plumes," represents two girls attacked by ostriches:--

"Two lassies who would like their mistresses shine, On their heads clap'd some feathers to make them look fine; When two ostriches suddenly came within sight, And put the poor girls in a terrible fright.

"But how the Birds got to England's no matter, Tho' they certainly made a most terrible clatter; Fanny screamed as she ran, and scampering Polly, With her Fan fought the birds in defence of her folly."

If the reader be curious in regard to the _modus operandi_ of these astonishing creations, he (or more probably it will be she) is referred to "Plocacosmos; or, The Whole Art of Hairdressing," by James Stewart, 1782, wherein the mysteries of the art are set forth with great minuteness and elaboration, far too long to be explained here. The directions for the lady's "nightcap" may, however, be given:--

"All that is required at night is to take the cap or toke off, as any other ornament, and as you put them on, you can easily know how to take them off: with regard to the hair, nothing need be touched but the curls; you may take the pins out of them, and, with a little soft pomatum in your hands, stroke the hairs that may have started; do them with nice long rollers, wind them up to the roots, and turn the end of each roller firmly in to keep them tight, remembering at the same time the hair should never be combed at night, having always so bad an effect as to give a violent headache next day. After the curls are rolled up, touch them with your pomatumy hands, and stroke the hair behind; after that take a very large net fillet, which must be big enough to cover the head and hair, and put it on, and drawing the strings to a proper tightness behind, till it closes all round the face and neck like a purse, bring the strings round the front and back again to the neck, where they must be tied; this, with the finest lawn handkerchief, is night covering sufficient for the head."

"Heads" usually lasted a matter of three weeks, when--'twould be dangerous, madam, to delay longer the opening of your head. We get a glimpse of the possible state of a lady's head at the expiration of that time from the many recipes and advertisements for the destruction of insects in the magazines of the period, which reminds us of Julian, who likened his beard to a "forest grown populous with troublesome little animals."

"Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast; Still to be powdered, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face, That makes simplicity a grace; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free: Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art; They strike mine eyes, but not mine heart."

BEN JONSON, _The Silent Woman_.

The apeing by the tradespeople of the manners of the great is amusingly told in the _Lady's Magazine_ for August, 1782, in the form of a letter to the editor, purporting to be from a respectable greengrocer, who signs himself "Artichoke Pulse." He says: "I wish to God you would write something smart against fashion. My family is almost ruined by the article of dress." It appeared that his son Tom had worked himself into a gentleman's family as footman, and from this circumstance his troubles began. "You can scarcely conceive, my dear Sir, what an alteration this acquaintance with the great family has made. Sally, my eldest daughter, talks of taste and the mode, aye faith, and the dresses too. I will give you a description of her going to see the new comedy of the 'East Indian' the other night, in company with her brothers and sisters, and a lord's footman, who presented them with orders for the two-shilling gallery.

"Dick Dusty, the hairdresser's apprentice, who lives in a court near us, was sent for at two o'clock, and two pound of Sangwine's eightpenny-halfpenny powder being procured, with a proper quantity of grease, the operation of the head was begun among the cabbages, lettuces, turnips, carrots, peas, and beans that surrounded us. Dick, who was but a novice at his business, cut and slashed away until he had left just as much hair as he could conveniently dress, and then, having worked the grease and the flour into a kind of paste, he plaistered over the head, using his hand as a trowel, until it was fairly encrusted so as to hide the colour of the hair, or to deceive the eye into a belief that the head was a pudding bag turned inside out!

"As it was summer, my daughters chose to go without caps, and an artificial bouquet was stuck in the front of those puddings. The gowns were silk; but being purchased at a pawnbroker's they were not properly cut for the fashionable hoop. Hoops, however, were to be wore, and even my wife resolved for once, to figure away in one of those oval pieces of nonsense."

. . . . .

"Perhaps in nature, there was never such a figure! Only fashion to yourself a greengrocer's wife issuing from her cellar in Drury Lane, with a monstrous hoop, exposing a pair of legs, the ankles as thick as the calf, and the calf as thick as the modern waist; her hair bepuddened, her cheeks bedaubed with red, her neck of a crimson hue, her arms bursting through a pair of white gloves, the contrast between the two skins being almost the very opposite to each other; a thick-flowered silk exposing the whole front of a quilted petticoat that once was white, and then you have the appearance of my wife! Her daughters made as ridiculous a figure, and Will, I do assure you, was not the least remarkable in the group."

This sally, recounting the woes of the hapless "Artichoke," provoked an indignant reply from a champion of the women, which duly appeared in the next number:--

"I think it high time, then, for every female to exert the little knowledge she may be possessed of in the scribbling line, when the wits, under the characters of Green Grocers, dare to insult us, and speak of our hoops, and other parts of our dress, as freely as they exercise their authority over the ostlers at a country inn.

"The favour, dear Madam, we wish of you, is to remonstrate with these smart gentlemen, and, with us, tell them they are incapable of correcting the foibles in the ladies' dresses, till they have established a criterion for their own. Did they adopt no other fashions than useful and becoming ones, they might have some solid reasons for reprehending us; but how is this to be done? Can they point out of what use are the high-crowned hats, their shoes tied with strings, the number of buttons lately added to their coats: of what real service that ponderosity of their watches and canes? We will even attend to the Green Grocer, if he can defend them, and no longer despise the opinions of those scrutators of our dress; but till then we must insist that the hoop (the battery at which most of their present artillery is played off against), when of a moderate size, is an addition to the appearance of a fine woman; it is a finishing grace to their persons, and gives them that dignity of appearance that every woman in a genteel line of life has a right to assume."

Although Kings have often vainly endeavoured to impose their will upon the people in the matter of apparel it has often happened that monarchs have set the prevailing fashion of the period. This is especially noticeable in the Cavaliers of Charles I., numbers of whom adopted the short, pointed beard and moustachios and long hair of their master, in striking contrast to the close cropped and shaven round heads of the Cromwellians. It was so with the Bonapartists of the Third Empire, when the "imperial" became the vogue.

At a still more recent period, the illustrious personage who is figured here, and who, be it known, appears here _strictly incognito_ (we would fain escape the dire consequences of _lèse-majesté_), has imposed his imperious will, not only upon his own countrymen, but upon the world at large, in the matter of the turned up moustachio.

"When you come to be trimed, they will aske you whether you will be cut to looke terrible to your enimie, or amiable to your freend, grime and sterne in countenance, or pleasant and demure,--how their mowchatowes must be preserved and laid out, from one cheke to another, yea, almost from one eare to another, and turned up like two hornes towards the forehead" (Stubbes, "Anatomy of Abuses," 1583).