CHAPTER III

DRESS—WEDDINGS

In the Elizabethan age, the poet, satirists, and preachers are so full of the subject of feminine fashions that it becomes of great importance. The increase of wealth and the growing power of the middle class give a greater prominence to women’s dress, while the improvement in the streets and the roads, the introduction of coaches and the development of outdoor amusements, theatres, shows, masques, gardens, and water-parties bring the wives and daughters of London more into the open.

It was a time of great expenditure upon clothes; the fashions were rich and costly; the custom was to make what we should call an ostentatious display of wealth. Ben Jonson and the dramatists are full of the extravagance of City madams. Not only did the ladies wear rich dresses; they prided themselves upon possessing a great number—as many as they could afford; in every house there was a room called the Wardrobe, in which the clothes of the household were hung up and carefully watched and kept from moth and decay.

At the beginning of her reign the Queen, who set the fashion, wore a small ruff, with a kerchief about her neck; a kind of coat of black velvet and ermine fastened at the throat only; with a waistcoat and kirtle below of white silk or silver embroidered with black; on the shoulders were humps, and the sleeves were large. Stubbes abuses the fashion because it is “proper only to a man, yet they blush not to wear it.” The cap or coif was adorned with strings of pearls. Lawn and cambric ruffs came in shortly after Elizabeth’s accession. A Flemish woman named Van der Plasse came over and set up as a starcher of ruffs. The mere mention of starch made Stubbes furiously angry; the ruff was a “master devil”; the devil himself invented starch.

The custom of wearing whalebone to imprison the figure down to the hips also began early in the reign; a long stomacher descended in front, and from the hips stood out the farthingale, horizontally; a hideous thing which was perpetuated in the hoop for two hundred years. As for the gowns they were made, to the indignation of the satirist, “of silk, of velvet, of grograin, of taffata, and of fine cloth, ten, twenty, or forty shillings a yard”; they were decorated with lace two fingers broad, or with velvet edged with lace. The petticoats were also of the finest stuff, fringed with silk, and in addition, they had a kirtle also of fine stuff and fringed with lace and silk. It appears therefore that they had first a gown which was pulled back and showed the kirtle, which itself was pulled back and disclosed the petticoat.

Their stockings were made of the finest cloth, yarn, or worsted; silk stockings were presented to the Queen in her third year; knitted worsted stockings were introduced from Italy; the stockings of the fine ladies were “curiously indented in every point with quicks, clocks, and open seams.” They wore cork shoes made, like the petticoats and kirtle, of anything that was costly and rare and could be embroidered.

The fashions of wearing the hair were endless. It was curled in innumerable curls; it was crisped; it was built up over a cushion; it was laid out over the forehead; it was ornamented with jewels, gold, wreaths of silver and gold, and kept in place with hairpins; the women wore over their hair French hoods, hats, and caps; they wore cauls made of net-wire and cloth of gold and tinsel; they wore “lattice” caps with horns; and every merchant’s wife or mean gentlewoman indulged in these extravagant fashions.

“The cappe on hyre heade Is lyke a sowes mawe; Such another facion I thynke never Jewe sawe. Then fyne geare on the foreheade After the newe trycke, Though it coste a crowne or two, What then? They may not stycke. If theyr heyr wyl not take colour, Then must they buy newe, And laye it out in tussocks; This thynge is too true, At each syde a tussocke As bygge as a ball. Hyr face faire payned To make it shine bright And her bosom all bare, Hyr mydle braced in As small as a wande; And some buy water of qyre At the paste wyf’s hande.”

As for the merchants’ wives, their dress is described in the following lines:—

“You wore Satin on solemn days, a chain of gold, A velvet hood, rich borders, and sometimes A dainty miniver cap, a silver pin, Headed with a pearl worth threepence.”

It was a common practice to entice little children into private places and unfrequented courts there to cut off their long hair to be made up into false hair for women. Long and beautiful hair was in great request by the fashionable dames of the time. Brides especially went to the altar with flowing locks, the longer the better.

“Come, come, my Lord, untie your folded thoughts, And let them dangle loose as a bride’s hair.”

In a word, the Elizabethan fine lady was very fine indeed; much more artificial than her grandmother, and much less beautiful therefore. She painted her face; she dyed her hair, sometimes changing the colour from time to time, a practice which explains the different colour of the hair in Queen Mary’s portraits. She used perfumes copiously; she carried a large feather fan with a costly handle of silver or ivory. She also carried a mirror hanging from her girdle with which to contemplate the thing she loved best—her own face, made up, painted, and set in the frame of ruff and cap; strings of pearls were round the cap and a gold chain round the throat. And she frequented, but secretly, the wise women—there were scores of them in the city—who knew secrets ineffable—secrets that were like magic; perhaps they were magic—for the improvement and preservation of the complexion, the brightness of the eyes, the gloss of the hair, the softness and smoothness of the arm and the throat, and everything that was open to the gaze of man. Ben Jonson preserves as in a phonograph the words and voice of the wise woman.

FOR LADIES’ COMPLEXIONS

“_Wit._ They have Water of gourds, of radish, the white beans, Flowers of glass, of thistles, rose-marine, Raw honey, mustard seed, and bread dough baked, The crums of bread, goat’s-milk, and whites of eggs, Camphire, and lily-roots, the fat of swans, Marrow of veal, white pigeons, and pine-kernals, The seeds of nettles, purseline, and hare’s-gall: Lemons, thin-skinn’d——

_Lady E._ How her ladyship has studied All excellent things!

_Wit._ But ordinary, madam: No, the true rarities are the alvagada And argentata of queen Isabella.

_Lady T._ Ay, what are their ingredients, gentle madam?

_Wit._ Your allum scagliola, or pol di pedra: And zuccarino: turpentine of Abezzo, Wash’d in nine waters: soda dilevants, Or your fern ashes: benjamin di gotta: Grasso di serpe: porceletto marino: Oils of lentisco: zucche mugia: make The admirable varnish for the face, Gives the right lustre: but two drops rubb’d on With a piece of scarlet, makes a lady of sixty Look as sixteen. But above all, the water Of the white hen, of the lady Estifania’s.

_Lady T._ O, ay, that same, good madam, I have heard of: How is it done?

_Wit._ Madam, you take your hen, Plume it, and skin it, cleanse it o’ the inwards: Then chop it bones and all: add to four ounces: Of carravicins, pipitas, soap of Cyprus, Make the decoction, strain it: then distil it, And keep it in your gallipot well gliddered: Three drops preserves from wrinkles, warts, spots, moles, Blemish, or sun-burnings: and keeps the skin In decimo sexto, ever bright and smooth, As any looking-glass: and indeed is call’d A ceruse, neither cold or heat, oglio reale: And mix’d with oil of myrrh and the red gilliflower, Call’d cataputia, and flowers of rovistico, Makes the best muta or dye of the whole world.”

The stuffs worn by gentlemen were taffeta; mockado—an inferior velvet; grogram—a cheaper taffeta; quellio for the ruff; tamin; sendall; and many others which are now mere words. The poorer women, not to be outdone more than was necessary, bought the same clothes, made in the same style, of the fripperer, or broker, who dealt in second-hand clothes. Now the great danger of buying second-hand clothes was that you might at the same time buy the plague.

Men were never so affected and so splendid in their dress as in the sixteenth century. They wore earrings; they wore costly brooches in their hats; the great nobles wore strings of pearls; they had thumb rings; they carried jewelled daggers; they carried a case of toothpicks with them; they carried their own napkins to the taverns; they had a favourite lock of hair, which they curled and treated tenderly, tying a rose to it or a bunch of ribbons; they wore their hair and their beards in fantastic ways, either after the French, Italian, or Spanish manner. As for the younger men, they played the usual tricks. That is to say, they tried to make the waist small; they wore “grulled calves”; they “bleached their hands at midnight, gumming and triding their beards.” Sleeves were slashed; girdles were hung with mirrors; the head was set in a ruff; high-heeled shoes raised the stature; men’s cloaks were of velvet trimmed with lace; buttons, buckles, and clasps were of gold; the hats were adorned with feathers.

Tavern life in the time of the Tudors was picturesque and pleasant. The taverns were frequented not only by gallants and merchants, but by ladies. Suppers, it is true, were given to bona robas; the viol de gamba played for companies not always the most respectable; but there were rooms which the City madams used as a resort for parties of their own friends; and that without any question of offence.

The City Trained Bands were gorgeous in white doublets, with the City arms before and behind; the men-servants wore gorgeous liveries. Dress to a certain extent indicated class. Law and Divinity wore black. Furred gowns and satin sleeves marked the Sheriff or the Alderman. The plain citizen wore a cloak of brown or chocolate colour; the craftsman wore a doublet of cloth, or leather, with a leather belt, and in winter an overcoat down to the knees or the ankles. The following is the description of a runaway page:—

“One doblet of yelow million fustian, th’one halfe therof buttoned with peche-colour buttons, and th’other halfe laced downewardes; one payer of peche-colour hose, laced with smale tawnye lace; a graye hat with a copper edge rounde aboute it, with a bande p’cell of the same hatt; a payer of watchet (blue) stockings. Likewise he hath twoe clokes; th’one of vessey collor, garded with twoe gards of black clothe and twisted lace of carnacion colour, and lyned with crymsone bayes; and th’other is a red shipp russet colour, striped about th’cape, and downe the fore face, twisted with two rows of twisted lace, russet and gold buttons afore and uppon the sholdier, being of the clothe itselfe, set with the said twisted lace, and the buttons of russet silke and golde.”

’Prentices wore a dress very much like that of the Blue Coat Boys, but with a flat cap. A citizen’s servant wore a blue livery. Knots of ribbons were tied on the shoes. The women gathered round the conduit and the bakehouse for gossip. The tradesmen issued their own tokens which passed current. Girls who served in the shops were taken on Sundays by their sweethearts to Islington or Pimlico. Shops were furnished with cudgels for the use of ’prentices in case of a fight. The cudgels were called by various endearing names, but the favourite name was a “Plymouth Cloak.” Clothes were washed at the riverside on wood or a flat stone. The love of fine dress is charged as a fault of the fair Londoners. Why they should be blamed for desiring what all men desire, viz. the appearance of bravery and splendour, is hard to understand. The sumptuary laws which were passed from time to time appear to have been intended not so much to prevent the gratification of this instinctive desire as to make different classes proclaim their rank and station by their dress. A tradesman, in fact, must not appear as a gentleman; nor a craftsman as a master. In a word, there was a constant feeling that rank should be indicated by outward apparel, and that every one should proclaim his station by his garments. Thus the Act of 1464 ordered

“That none below the dignity of a lord or knight of the garter, or their wives, should be allowed to wear purple, or any manner of cloth of gold, velvet or sable furs, under a penalty of 20 marks. That none below knights, bachelors, mayors, and aldermen, and their wives, should wear satin or ermine, under a penalty of 10 marks. That none but such as had possessions to the amount of 40s. per annum should be permitted to wear fustian, bustian, or scarlet cloth, and no fur, but black or white lamb, on forfeiture of 40s.

That no yeoman, nor any under that degree, should be allowed to stuff or bolster their doublets, to wear short cloaks or jackets, or shoes with pikes passing the length of eleven inches, under a penalty of 20s.

That no husbandman should use broad cloth at above 11s. a yard, nor hose above 14d. a pair: nor their wives kerchiefs whereof the price should exceed 12d. nor girdles harnessed with silver, upon pain of forfeiting at every default 40d.

And because foreign kerchiefs were brought into the country, and sold at such extravagant prices, it was ordained that any one selling lawne, nyfell, umple, or other manner of kerchief whereof the price should exceed 10s. the seller should forfeit a mark for every one that he sold above that price.”

To those who take the worthy Philip Stubbes quite seriously and literally, the Elizabethan age will appear more than commonly wicked and unscrupulous; to those who are ready to make allowance for the exaggerated indignation of the satirist, the narrowness of the Puritan, and the real and genuine craving after equity, justice, and honesty, it will become manifest that the age contained, like every other age, grave abuses, great injustices, and much small meanness and trickery. Laws were passed attempting to restrain the tricks of clothiers, tanners, shoemakers, and “brokers,” _i.e._ pawnbrokers and marine store-dealers. These laws failed, as all such laws must fail, because men who wish to cheat will cheat in spite of any laws that may be passed. In truth there is very little in Stubbes but does not belong to every town and every age. He laments the pride of the age. So does every satirist. Especially he laments Pride of Apparel. Take their hats for instance:—

“Sometimes they use them sharp on the crowne, pearking up like a spere, or shafte of a steeple, standing a quarter of a yard above the crowne of their heades; some more, some lesse, as please the phantasies of their inconstant mindes. Othersome be flat and broad on the crowne, like the battlementes of a house. An other sort have round crownes, sometymes with one kinde of bande, sometymes with an other; now blacke, now white, now russet, now red, now grene, now yellowe, now this, nowe that, never content with one colour or fashion two daies to an ende....

And as the fashions bee rare and straunge, so is the stuffe wherof their hattes be made, divers also; for some are of silke, some of velvet, some of taffatie, some of sarcenet, some of wooll, and, whiche is more curious, some of a certaine kind of fine haire.... And so common a thinge it is, that everie servingman, countrieman, and other, even all indifferently, do weare of these hattes. For he is of no account or estimation amongst men, if hee have not a velvet or a taffatie hatte, and that muste bee pincked and cunningly carved of the beste fashion. And good profitable hattes bee these, for the longer you weare them the fewer holes they haue. Besides this, of late there is a new fashion of wearyng their hattes sprung up amongst them, which they father upon the Frenchmen, namely, to weare them without bandes; but how unseemely (I will not saie how assie) a fashion that is, let the wise judge; notwithstanding, howe ever it be, if it please them, it shall not displease me. And an other sort (as phantasticall as the rest) are content with no kinde of hat without a greate bunche of feathers of divers and sundrie colours, peakyng on top of their heades, not unlike (I dare not saie) Cockescombes, but as sternes of pride and ensigns of vanitie.” (Stubbes, 1836 edition, p. 38.)

Marriages took place at an earlier age than is now common, both for men and for women. An unmarried girl of twenty was regarded as an old maid. Thus in the _Crowne Garland of Golden Roses_ the maiden laments her virginity:—

“Twenty winters have I seen, And as many summers greene, ’Tis long enough to breed despaire So long a maidenhead to beare; ’Tis a burden of such waight That I would faine be eas’d of’t straight; But alasse! I am afraid I shall live and die a maid.”

The betrothal took place forty days before the wedding:—

“A contract of eternal bond of love, Confirmed by mutual joinder of your hands, Attested by the holy close of lips, Strengthened by interchangement of your rings; And all the ceremony of this compact Seal’d in my function, by my testimony.”

To make the betrothal binding there were, therefore, four points to be observed: (1) The joining of hands; (2) the exchange of kisses; (3) the exchange of rings; (4) the testimony of witnesses.

After the betrothal, the wedding:—

“The procession accompanying a rural bride, of some consequence, or of the middle rank, to church was as follows:—The bride, being attired in a gown of sheep’s russet, and a kirtle of fine worsted, her hair attired with a ‘billement of gold’ (decorated with long chains of gold), and her hair as yellow as gold hanging down behind her, which was curiously combed and plaited, was led to the church between two sweet boys, with bride laces and rosemary tied about their silken sleeves. There was carried before her a fair bride-cup of silver, gilt, filled with hippocras and garnished with a goodly branch of rosemary, which stands for constancy. The cup was hung about with silken ribbands of all colours. Musicians followed, then a group of maidens, some bearing bride-cakes, others garlands of wheat finely gilded; and thus they passed on to the church.”

The wedding customs were very pretty. The bride, like all unmarried women, wore a dress which exposed a portion of her bosom—you may see how far the exposure went by looking at any portrait of Queen Elizabeth; she wore her hair flowing. Some girls married very early, even at fifteen, which was considered quite old enough to undertake the duties of a wife. On the way to and from the church, wheat was thrown on the head of the bride, just as rice is thrown now, as a symbol of fruitfulness to follow. The wedding guests wore scarves, gloves, and favours; cake—the bride-cake—was taken to the Church and distributed after the ceremony; brooches were also given to the young men and maidens present. Then the cup of wine was sent round: the “knitting” cup, or the “contracting” cup; and then, carrying in her hand a piece of gilt rosemary, the bride led the way home, where, for three days, festivities, masques, mumming, music, dancing, feasting, and drinking were carried on. In some of the churches special pews were provided for newly married couples, who sat in them and listened, while the preacher discoursed on “The Bride’s Bush” or “The Wedding Garment Beautified.”

In 1584 the Puritans got in a Bill permitting to marry at all seasons and on every day of the year. It had been the endeavour of the Bishops to keep Lent as a season in which there was to be no marrying or giving in marriage. Meantime, the keeping of Lent remained, if only as an outward sign of revolt against the Puritans.

When there was a christening it was conducted in the mother’s bedroom. After the service, the sponsors presented “Postle Spoons”; then, of course, they sat down to a solid feast, or, at least, a drink—nothing could be done without a drink; comfits were handed round with the wine, and it was not unusual for some of the guests to go away royally drunk.

An example of a marriage feast is that of one Coke, citizen, with the daughter of Mr. Nicolls, Master of London Bridge. My Lord Mayor and all the Aldermen, with many ladies and other worshipful men and women, were present at the wedding. Mr. Bacon, an eminent divine, preached the wedding sermon. After the discourse the company went home to the Bridge House to dinner, where was as good cheer as ever was known—Stow says so, and he knew very well—with all manner of music and dancing, and at night a masque till midnight. But this was only half the feast, for next day the wedding was again kept at the Bridge House with great cheer. After supper more mumming, after that more masques. One was in cloth of gold, the next consisted of friars, and the third of nuns. First the friars and the nuns danced separately, one company after the other, and then they danced together.

At a funeral the mourners first assembled at the house where lay the coffin. Here the clergyman made a speech on the virtues of the deceased. On the coffin stood a jug or pot of wine which was passed round as a loving-cup. Then every one laid branches on the coffin; money was given to the children; to the mourners ribbons, scarves, and gloves were distributed; rosemary was laid in the coffin and placed in the mourners’ hats; as for what followed, we may take the funerals described by Machyn. First, the Company to which the deceased belonged, attended in their livery; the Company of Clerks attended the funerals of the better class and sang over the grave; black gowns were given to as many poor men and poor women as the condition of the deceased permitted. When a great citizen died, like Master Husee, “squire and a grett marchand ventorer and of Muskovia and haberdasher,” he was followed by a hundred mourners; he had five pennons of arms, and a “cotte armur,” and “two heralds of arms, Master Clarenshux and Master Somerset.” He was attended by the Choir of St. Paul’s and by the Company of Clerks; they buried him at St. Martin’s, Ludgate Hill; the church was hung with black and with escutcheons of arms; the Reader of St. Paul’s preached “both days.”

Master Flammock, grocer, who died in 1560, was apparently a Puritan. Many gowns were bestowed by his executors; he was taken to the church without singing or clerks, and was buried with a psalm, “after Genevay,” and a sermon.

Lady Dobbes, the wife of Sir Richard Dobbes, was buried with a pennon of armes and four dozen and five escutcheons; many black gowns were given. “Master Recherdson mad the sermon, and the clarkes syngyng and a dolle of money of xx nobulles, and a grete dinner after and the compane of the Skynners in ther leverey.”

Master Hulson, scrivener, was one of the Masters in Bridewell; so the Masters of Bridewell attended his funeral with green staves in their hands, and all their children, “and there was great syngyng as ever was heard.” And when we have added that after most of these notes occur this passage, “And all dune to the place, fir there was a great dener,” we have said all that need be said about a civic funeral.

One detail is not mentioned by Machyn. This is the custom observed till quite recently in Yorkshire, of hanging a garland or wreath of ribbons in the chancel of a church when a girl died unmarried. This custom had many forms, one or other of which was certainly observed in London. It was considered unlucky to carry away a piece of ribbon; if the wreath dropped to pieces, all the pieces were buried in the churchyard.

Persons of distinction continued to be buried within the walls of the church.

Some Companies and some parish churches still preserve funeral palls which have been presented to them at various times for the use of the members and parishioners. Thus, in May 1848, Mr. William Wansey, Prime Warden of the Fishmongers’ Company, exhibited a funeral pall of most beautiful and elaborate workmanship, formed of cloth of gold richly embroidered.

“This interesting relic has been preserved in the possession of the Fishmongers’ Company, having doubtless been originally used at the interments of its more distinguished members. No account of the acquisition of this fine specimen of decoration, or of the precise period when it was executed, has been preserved, and the earlier records of the Company were destroyed in the fire of London; its date may be attributed to the earlier part of the sixteenth, or the close of the previous century. The designs which decorate the head and foot of the pall are precisely similar, and the two sides likewise correspond exactly in design. On the former is presented St. Peter, the patron of fishermen, receiving from the Saviour the keys of heaven and hell; the embroideries on the two sides represent St. Peter enthroned, crowned with the tiara, with angels kneeling one on either side, throwing their censers towards him. On each side of this subject is introduced an escutcheon of the arms of the Company, with supporters. Nothing can exceed the delicacy of execution displayed in this remarkable specimen of needle-work: the countenances are full of expression, and the colours are generally remarkable for freshness and brilliancy. Another funeral pall of great beauty is in the possession of the Saddlers’ Company, and has been accurately represented in Mr. Shaw’s _Dresses and Decorations_.” (_Archæologia_, xxxi.)