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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10115 ***
+
+[Illustration]
+
+TWO CENTURIES OF COSTUME IN AMERICA
+MDCXX-MDCCCXX
+
+
+ALICE MORSE EARLE
+
+AUTHOR OF “SUN-DIALS AND ROSES OF YESTERDAY” “OLD TIME GARDENS,” ETC.
+
+
+VOLUME I
+
+Nineteen Hundred and Three
+
+
+
+
+Madam Padishal and Child Madam Padishal and Child.
+
+
+
+
+_To George P. Brett_
+
+
+_“An honest Stationer (or Publisher) is he, that exercizeth his Mystery
+(whether it be in printing, bynding or selling of Bookes) with more
+respect to the glory of God & the publike aduantage than to his owne
+Commodity & is both an ornament & a profitable member in a ciuill
+Commonwealth.... If he be a Printer he makes conscience to exemplefy
+his Coppy fayrely & truly. If he be a Booke-bynder, he is no meere
+Bookeseller (that is) one who selleth meerely ynck & paper bundled up
+together for his owne aduantage only: but he is a Chapman of Arts, of
+wisdome, & of much experience for a little money.... The reputation of
+Schollers is as deare unto him as his owne: For, he acknowledgeth that
+from them his Mystery had both begining and means of continuance. He
+heartely loues & seekes the Prosperity of his owne Corporation: Yet he
+would not iniure the Uniuersityes to advantage it. In a word, he is
+such a man that the State ought to cherish him; Schollers to loue him;
+good Customers to frequent his shopp; and the whole Company of
+Stationers to pray for him.”_
+
+—GEORGE WITHER, 1625.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+VOL. I
+
+I. APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS
+
+II. DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS
+
+III. ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS
+
+IV. A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER
+
+V. THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS
+
+VI. RUFFS AND BANDS
+
+VII. CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS
+
+VIII. THE VENERABLE HOOD
+
+IX. CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS
+
+X. THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN
+
+XI. PERUKES AND PERIWIGS
+
+XII. THE BEARD
+
+XIII. PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES
+
+XIV. BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOLUME I
+
+
+MADAM PADISHAL AND CHILD
+
+_Frontispiece_
+
+This fine presentation of the dress of a gentlewoman and infant child,
+in the middle of the seventeenth century, hung in old Plymouth homes in
+the Thomas and Stevenson families till it came by inheritance to the
+present owner, Mrs. Greely Stevenson Curtis of Boston, Mass. The artist
+is unknown.
+
+JOHN ENDICOTT
+
+Born in Dorchester, Eng., 1589. Died in Boston, Mass., 1665. He
+emigrated to America in 1628; became governor of the colony in 1644,
+and was major-general of the colonial troops. He hated Indians, the
+Church of Rome, and Quakers. He wears a velvet skull-cap, and a
+finger-ring, which is somewhat unusual; a square band; a richly fringed
+and embroidered glove; and a “stiletto” beard. This portrait is in the
+Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+EDWARD WINSLOW
+
+Born in England, 1595; died at sea, 1655. One of the founders of the
+Plymouth colony in 1620; and governor of that colony in 1633, 1636,
+1644. This portrait is dated 1651. It is in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth,
+Mass.
+
+JOHN WINTHROP
+
+Born in England, 1588; died in Boston, 1649. Educated at Trinity
+College, Cambridge; admitted to the Inner Temple, 1628. Made governor
+of Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1629. Arrived in Salem, 1630. His
+portrait by Van Dyck and a fine miniature exist. The latter is owned by
+American Antiquarian Society, Worcester, Mass. This picture is copied
+from a very rare engraving from the miniature, which is finer and even
+more thoughtful in expression than the portrait. Both have the
+lace-edged ruff, but the shape of the dress is indistinct.
+
+SIMON BRADSTREET
+
+Born in England, 1603; died in Salem, Mass., 1697. He was governor of
+the colony when he was ninety years old. The Labadists, who visited
+him, wrote: “He is an old man, quiet and grave; dressed in black silk,
+but not sumptuously.”
+
+SIR RICHARD SALTONSTALL
+
+A mayor of London who came to Salem among the first settlers. The New
+England families of his name are all descended from him. He wears
+buff-coat and trooping scarf. This portrait was painted by Rembrandt.
+
+SIR WALTER RALEIGH
+
+Born in Devonshire, Eng., 1552; executed in London, 1618. A courtier,
+poet, historian, nobleman, soldier, explorer, and colonizer. He was the
+favorite of Elizabeth; the colonizer of Virginia; the hero of the
+Armada; the victim of King James. In this portrait he wears a slashed
+jerkin; a lace ruff; a broad trooping scarf with great lace
+shoulder-knot; a jewelled sword-belt; full, embroidered breeches;
+lace-edged garters, and vast shoe-roses, which combine to form a
+confused dress.
+
+SIR WALTER RALEIGH AND SON
+
+This print was owned by the author for many years, with the written
+endorsement by some unknown hand, _Martin Frobisher and Son_. I am glad
+to learn that it is from a painting by Zucchero of Raleigh and his son,
+and is owned at Wickham Court, in Kent, Eng., by the descendant of one
+of Raleigh’s companions in his explorations. The child’s dress is less
+fantastic than other portraits of English children of the same date.
+
+ROBERT DEVEREUX, EARL OF ESSEX
+
+From an old print. A general of Cromwell’s army.
+
+OLIVER CROMWELL DISSOLVING PARLIAMENT
+
+From an old Dutch print.
+
+SIR WILLIAM WALLER
+
+A general in Cromwell’s army. Born, 1597; died, 1668. He served in the
+Thirty Years’ War. This portrait is in the National Portrait Gallery.
+
+LORD FAIRFAX
+
+A general in Cromwell’s army. From an old print.
+
+ALDERMAN ABELL AND RICHARD KILVERT
+
+From an old print.
+
+REV. JOHN COTTON, D.D.
+
+Born in Derby, Eng., 1585; died at Boston, Mass., in 1652. A Puritan
+clergyman who settled in Boston in 1633. He drew up for the colonists,
+at the request of the General Court, an abstract of the laws of Moses
+entitled _Moses His Judicials_, which was of greatest influence in the
+formation of the laws of the colony. This portrait is owned by Robert
+C. Winthrop, Esq.
+
+REV. COTTON MATHER, D.D.
+
+Born in Boston, Mass., 1683; died in Boston, Mass., 1728. A clergyman,
+author, and scholar. His book, _Magnalia Christi Americana_, an
+ecclesiastical history of New England, is of much value, though most
+trying. He took an active and now much-abhorred part in the Salem
+witchcraft. This portrait is owned by the American Antiquarian Society,
+Worcester, Mass.
+
+SLASHED SLEEVES
+
+From portraits _temp_. Charles I. The first is from a Van Dyck portrait
+of the Earl of Stanhope, and has a rich, lace-edged cuff. The second,
+with a graceful lawn undersleeve, is from a Van Dyck of Lucius Gary,
+Viscount Falkland. The third is from a painting by Mytens of the Duke
+of Hamilton. The fourth, by Van Dyck, is from one of Lord Villiers,
+Viscount Grandison.
+
+MRS. KATHERINE CLARK
+
+Born, 1602; died, 1671. An English gentlewoman renowned in her day for
+her piety and charity.
+
+LADY MARY ARMINE
+
+An English lady of great piety, whose gifts to Christianize the Indians
+make her name appear in the early history of Massachusetts. Her black
+domino and frontlet are of interest. This portrait was painted about
+1650.
+
+THE TUB-PREACHER
+
+An old print of a Quaker meeting. Probably by Marcel Lawson.
+
+VENICE POINT LACE
+
+Owned by Mrs. Robert Fulton Crary of Poughkeepsie, N.Y.
+
+REBECCA RAWSON
+
+The daughter of Edward Rawson, Secretary of State. Born in Boston in
+1656; married in 1679 to an adventurer, Thomas Rumsey, who called
+himself Sir Thomas Hale. She died at sea, in 1692. This portrait is
+owned by New England Historic Genealogical Society.
+
+ELIZABETH PADDY
+
+Born in Plymouth, Mass., in 1641. Daughter of William Paddy; she
+married John Wensley of Plymouth. Their daughter Sarah married Dr.
+Isaac Winslow. This portrait is in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.
+
+MRS. SIMEON STODDARD
+
+A wealthy Boston gentlewoman. This portrait was painted in the latter
+half of the seventeenth century. It is owned by the Massachusetts
+Historical Society.
+
+ANCIENT BLACK LACE
+
+Owned by Mrs. Robert Fulton Crary, Poughkeepsie, N.Y.
+
+VIRAGO-SLEEVE
+
+From a French portrait.
+
+NINON DE L’ENCLOS
+
+Born in Paris, 1615; died in 1705. Her dress has a slashed
+virago-sleeve and lace whisk.
+
+LADY CATHERINE HOWARD
+
+Grandchild of the Earl of Arundel. Aged thirteen years. Drawn in 1646
+by W. Hollar.
+
+COSTUMES OF ENGLISHWOMEN OF SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
+
+Plates from _Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus, or Several Habits of
+Englishwomen_, 1640. By Wenceslaus Hollar, an engraver of much note and
+much performance; born at Prague, 1607; died in England, 1677. This
+book contains twenty-six plates illustrating women’s dress in all ranks
+of life with absolute fidelity.
+
+GERTRUDE SCHUYLER LIVINGSTONE
+
+Second wife and widow of Robert Livingstone. The curiously plaited
+widow’s cap can be seen under her hood.
+
+MRS. MAGDALEN BEEKMAN
+
+Died in New York in 1730. Widow of Gerardus Beekman, who died in 1723.
+
+LADY ANNE CLIFFORD
+
+Born, 1590. Daughter of George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland. Painted in
+1603.
+
+LADY HERRMAN
+
+Of Bohemia Manor, Maryland. Wife of a pioneer settler. From _Some
+Colonial Mansions_. Published by Henry T. Coates & Co.
+
+ELIZABETH CROMWELL
+
+Mother of Oliver Cromwell. She died at Whitehall in 1654, aged 90
+years. This portrait is at Hinchinbrook, and is owned by the Earl of
+Sandwich. It was painted by Robert Walker. Her dress is described as “a
+green velvet cardinal, trimmed with gold lace.” Her hood is white
+satin.
+
+POCAHONTAS
+
+Daughter of Powhatan, and wife of Mr. Thomas Rolfe. Born 1593; died
+1619; aged twenty-one when this was painted. The portrait is owned by a
+member of the Rolfe family.
+
+DUCHESS OF BUCKINGHAM AND CHILDREN
+
+Painted in 1626 by Gerard Honthorst. In the original the Duke of
+Buckingham is also upon the canvas. He was George Villiers, the
+“Steenie” of James I, who was assassinated by John Felton. The duchess
+was the daughter of the Earl of Rutland. The little daughter was
+afterwards Duchess of Richmond and Lenox. The baby was George, the
+second Duke of Buckingham, poet, politician, courtier, the friend of
+Charles II. The picture is now in the National Portrait Gallery.
+
+A WOMAN’S DOUBLET
+
+Worn by the infamous Mrs. Anne Turner.
+
+A PURITAN DAME
+
+Plate from _Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus_.
+
+PENELOPE WINSLOW
+
+Painted in 1651. Dress dull olive; mantle bright red; pearl necklace,
+ear-rings and pearl bandeau in hair. The hair is curled as the hair in
+portraits of Queen Henrietta Maria. In Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.
+
+GOLD-FRINGED GLOVES OF GOVERNOR LEVERETT
+
+In Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+EMBROIDERED PETTICOAT-BAND, 1750
+
+Bright-colored crewels on linen. Owned by the Misses Manning of Salem,
+Mass.
+
+BLUE DAMASK GOWN AND QUILTED SATIN PETTICOAT
+
+These were owned by Mrs. James Lovell, who was born 1735; died, 1817.
+Through her only daughter, Mrs. Pickard, who died in 1812, they came to
+her only child, Mary Pickard (Mrs. Henry Ware, Jr.), whose heirs now
+own them. They are in the keeping of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
+
+A PLAIN JERKIN
+
+This portrait is of Martin Frobisher, hero of the Armada; explorer in
+1576, 1577, and 1578 for the Northwestern Passage, and discoverer of
+Frobisher’s Bay. He died in 1594.
+
+CLOTH DOUBLET
+
+This portrait is of Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire. Owned by the
+Duke of Bedford. It shows a plain cloth doublet with double row of
+turreted welts at the shoulder. Horace Walpole says of this portrait,
+“He is quite in the style of Queen Elizabeth’s lovers; red-bearded, and
+not comely.”
+
+JAMES, DUKE OF YORK
+
+Born, 1633. Afterwards James II of England. This scene in a
+tennis-court was painted about 1643.
+
+EMBROIDERED JERKIN
+
+This portrait is of George Carew, Earl of Totnes. It was painted by
+Zucchero, and is owned by the Earl of Verulam. He wears a rich jerkin
+with four laps on each side below the belt; it is embroidered in
+sprigs, and guarded on the seams. The sleeves are detached. He wears
+also a rich sword-belt and ruff.
+
+JOHN LILBURNE
+
+Born in Greenwich, Eng., in 1614; died in 1659. A Puritan soldier,
+politician, and pamphleteer. He was fined, whipped, pilloried, tried
+for treason, sedition, controversy, libel. He was imprisoned in the
+Tower, Newgate, Tyburn, and the Castle. He was a Puritan till he turned
+Quaker. His sprawling boots, dangling knee-points, and silly little
+short doublet form a foolish dress.
+
+COLONEL WILLIAM LEGGE
+
+Born in 1609. Died in 1672. He was a stanch Royalist. His portrait is
+by Jacob Huysmans, and is in the National Portrait Gallery.
+
+SIR THOMAS ORCHARD KNIGHT, 1646
+
+From an old print indorsed “S Glover ad vivum delineavit 1646.” He is
+in characteristic court-dress, with slashed sleeves, laced cloak, laced
+garters, and shoe-roses. His hair and beard are like those of Charles
+II.
+
+THE ENGLISH ANTICK
+
+From a broadside of 1646.
+
+GEORGE I OF ENGLAND
+
+Born in Hanover, 1660. Died in Hanover, 1727. Crowned King of England
+in 1714. This portrait is by Sir Godfrey Kneller, and is in the
+National Portrait Gallery. It is remarkable for its ribbons and curious
+shoes.
+
+THREE CASSOCK SLEEVES AND A BUFF-COAT SLEEVE
+
+_Temp_. Charles I. The first sleeve is from a portrait of Lord Bedford.
+The second, with shoulder-knot of ribbon, was worn by Algernon Sidney;
+the third is from a Van Dyck portrait of Viscount Grandison; the
+fourth, the sleeve of a curiously slashed buff-coat worn by Sir Philip
+Sidney.
+
+HENRY BENNET, EARL OF ARLINGTON
+
+Born, 1618; died, 1685. From the original by Sir Peter Lely. This is
+asserted to be the costume chosen by Charles II in 1661 “to wear
+forever.”
+
+FIGURES FROM FUNERAL PROCESSION OF THE DUKE OF ALBEMARLE IN 1670
+
+These drawings of “Gentlemen,” “Earls,” “Clergymen,” “Physicians,” and
+“Poor Men” are by F. Sanford, Lancaster Herald, and are from his
+engraving of the Funeral Procession of George Monk, Duke of Albemarle.
+
+EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, HENRY WRIOTHESLEY.
+
+Born, 1573. Died in The Netherlands in 1624. He was the friend of
+Shakespere, and governor of the Virginia Company. This portrait is by
+Mierevelt.
+
+A BOWDOIN PORTRAIT
+
+This fine portrait is by a master’s hand. The name of the subject is
+unknown. The initials would indicate that he was a Bowdoin, or a
+Baudouine, which was the name of the original emigrant. It has been
+owned by the Bowdoin family until it was presented to Bowdoin College,
+Brunswick, Me., where it now hangs in the Walker Art Building.
+
+WILLIAM PYNCHEON
+
+Born, 1590; died, 1670. This portrait was painted in 1657. It is in an
+unusual dress, with the only double row of buttons I have seen on a
+portrait of that date. It also shows no hair under the close cap.
+
+JONATHAN EDWARDS, D.D.
+
+Born, Windsor, Conn., 1703. Died, Princeton, N.J., 1758. A theologian,
+metaphysician, missionary, author, and president of Princeton
+University.
+
+GEORGE CURWEN
+
+Born in England, 1610; died in Salem, 1685. He came to Salem in 1638,
+where he was the most prominent merchant, and commanded a troop of
+horse, whereby he acquired his title of Captain. He is in military
+dress. Portrait owned by Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+WALKING-STICK AND LACE FRILL, 1660
+
+These articles are in the Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+WILLIAM CODDINGTON
+
+Born in Leicestershire, Eng., 1601; died in Rhode Island, 1678. One of
+the founders of the Rhode Island Colony, and governor for many years.
+
+THOMAS FAYERWEATHER
+
+Born, 1692; died, 1733, in Boston. Married, in 1718, Hannah Waldo,
+sister of Brigadier-general Samuel Waldo. This portrait is by Smybcrt.
+It is owned by his descendants, Miss Elizabeth L. Bond and Miss
+Catherine Harris Bond, of Cambridge, Mass.
+
+“KING” CARTER IN YOUTH
+
+CITY FLAT-CAP
+
+Worn by “Bilious” Bale, who died in 1563. His square beard, coif, and
+citizen’s flat-cap were worn by Englishmen till 1620.
+
+KING JAMES I OF ENGLAND
+
+This portrait was painted before he was king of England. It is now in
+the National Portrait Gallery.
+
+FULKE GREVILLE, LORD BROOKE
+
+In doublet, with curious slashed tabs or bands at the waist, forming a
+roll like a woman’s farthingale. The hat, with jewelled hat-band, is of
+a singular and ugly shape.
+
+JAMES DOUGLAS, EARL OF MORTON
+
+His hat, band, and jerkin are unusual.
+
+ELIHU YALE
+
+Born in Boston, Mass., in 1648. Died in England in 1721. He founded
+Yale College, now Yale University. This portrait is owned by Yale
+University, New Haven, Conn.
+
+THOMAS CECIL, FIRST EARL OF EXETER
+
+Died in 1621.
+
+CORNELIUS STEINWYCK
+
+The wealthiest merchant of New Amsterdam in the seventeenth century.
+This portrait is owned by the New York Historical Society.
+
+HAT WITH GLOVE AS A FAVOR
+
+From portrait of George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland. He died in 1605.
+
+GULIELMA SPRINGETT PENN
+
+First wife of William Penn. Born, 1644; died, 1694. The original
+painting is on glass. Owned by the heirs of Henry Swan, Dorking, Eng.
+
+HANNAH CALLOWHILL PENN
+
+Second wife of William Penn; from a portrait now in Blackwell Hall,
+County Durham, Eng.
+
+MADAME DE MIRAMION
+
+Born, 1629; died in Paris, 1696.
+
+THE STRAWBERRY GIRL
+
+From Tempest’s _Cries of London_.
+
+OPERA HOOD, OR CARDINAL, OF BLACK SILK
+
+It is now in Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
+
+QUILTED HOOD
+
+Owned by Miss Mary Atkinson of Doylestown, Pa.
+
+PINK SILK HOOD
+
+Owned by Miss Alice Browne of Salem, Mass.
+
+PUG HOOD
+
+Owned by Miss Alice Browne of Salem, Mass.
+
+SCARLET CLOAK
+
+This fine broadcloth cloak and hood were worn by Judge Curwen. They are
+in perfect preservation, owing, in later years, to the excellent care
+given them by their present owner, Miss Bessie Curwen, of Salem, Mass.,
+a descendant of the original owner.
+
+JUDGE STOUGHTON
+
+WOMAN’S CLOAK
+
+From Hogarth.
+
+A CAPUCHIN
+
+From Hogarth.
+
+LADY CAROLINE MONTAGU
+
+Daughter of Duke of Buccleuch. Painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds in 1776.
+
+JOHN QUINCY
+
+Born, 1686. This portrait is owned by Brooks Adams, Esq., Boston, Mass.
+
+Miss CAMPION
+
+From Andrew W. Tuer’s _History of the Hornbook_. This portrait has hung
+for two centuries in an Essex manor-house. Its date, 1661, is but nine
+years earlier than the portraits of the Gibbes children, and the dress
+is the same. The cavalier hat and cuffs are the only varying detail.
+
+INFANT’S CAP
+
+Tambour work, 1790.
+
+ELEANOR FOSTER
+
+Born, 1746. She married Dr. Nathaniel Coffin, of Portland, Me., and
+became the mother of the beautiful Martha, who married Richard C.
+Derby. This portrait was painted in 1755. It is owned by Mrs. Greely
+Stevenson Curtis of Boston, Mass.
+
+WILLIAM, PRINCE OF ORANGE
+
+From an old print.
+
+MRS. THEODORE S. SEDGWICK AND DAUGHTER.
+
+Mrs. Sedgwick was Pamela Dwight. This portrait was painted by Ralph
+Earle, and exhibits one of his peculiarities. The home of the subject
+of the portrait is shown through an open window, though the immediate
+surroundings are a room within the house. The child is Catherine M.
+Sedgwick, the poet. This painting is owned in Stockbridge by members of
+the family.
+
+INFANT CHILD OF FRANCIS HOPKINSON, THE SIGNER
+
+A drawing in crayon by the child’s father. The child carries a coral
+and bells.
+
+MARY SETON
+
+1763. Died in 1800, aged forty. Married John Wilkes of New York. White
+frock and blue scarf.
+
+THE BOWDOIN CHILDREN
+
+Lady Temple and Governor James Bowdoin in childhood. The artist of this
+pleasing portrait is unknown. I think it was painted by Blackburn. It
+is now in the Walker Art Gallery, at Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Me.
+
+Miss LYDIA ROBINSON
+
+Aged twelve years, daughter of Colonel James Robinson, Salem, Mass.
+Painted by M. Corné in 1808. Owned by the Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+KNITTED FLAXEN MITTENS
+
+These are knitted upon finest wire needles, of linen thread, which had
+been spun, and the flax raised and prepared by the knitter.
+
+MRS. ELIZABETH (LUX) RUSSELL AND DAUGHTER.
+
+CHRISTENING SHIRT AND MITTS OF GOVERNOR BRADFORD.
+
+White linen with pinched sleeves and chaney ruffles and fingertips.
+Owned by Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+FLANDERS LACE MITTS
+
+These infant’s mitts were worn in the sixteenth century, and came to
+Salem with the first emigrants. Owned by Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+INFANT’S ADJUSTABLE CAP
+
+This has curious shirring-strings to make it fit heads of various
+sizes. It is home spun and woven, and the lace edging is home knit.
+
+REV. JOHN P. DABNEY, WHEN A CHILD IN 1806
+
+This portrait of a Salem minister in childhood is in jacket and
+trousers, with openwork collar and ruffles. It is now owned by the
+Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+ROBERT GIBBES
+
+Born, 1665. This portrait is dated 1670. It is owned by Miss Sarah B.
+Hager of Kendal Green, Mass.
+
+NANKEEN BREECHES, WITH SILVER BUTTONS. 1790
+
+RALPH IZARD, WHEN A LITTLE BOY
+
+Born in Charleston, S. C., 1742; died in 1804. Painted in 1750. He was
+United States Senator 1789-1795. This debonair little figure in blue
+velvet, silk-embroidered waistcoat, silken hose, buckled shoes, and
+black hat, gold-laced, is a miniature courtier. The portrait is now
+owned by William E. Huger, Esq., of Charleston, S.C.
+
+GOVERNOR AND REVEREND GURDON SALTONSTALL
+
+Born in 1666; died in 1724. Governor of Connecticut, 1708-24. He was
+also ordained a minister of the church at New London.
+
+MAYOR RIP VAN DAM
+
+Mayor of New York in 1710.
+
+JUDGE ABRAHAM DE PEYSTER OF NEW YORK
+
+GOVERNOR DE BIENVILLE, JEAN BAPTISTE LEMOINE
+
+Born in Montreal, Can., 1680. Died in 1768. French Governor of
+Louisiana for many years. He founded New Orleans. The original is in
+Longeuil, Can.
+
+DANIEL WALDO
+
+Born in Boston, 1724; died in 1808. Married Rebecca Salisbury.
+
+REV. JOHN MARSH, HARTFORD, CONN
+
+JOHN ADAMS IN YOUTH
+
+Born in Braintree, Mass., 1735; died at Quincy, Mass., 1826. Second
+President of the United States, 1797-1801. He was a member of Congress,
+signer of Declaration of Independence, Commissioner to France,
+Ambassador to The Netherlands, Peace Commissioner to Great Britain,
+Minister to Court of St. James. This portrait in youth is in a wig.
+Throughout life he wore his hair bushed out at the ears.
+
+JONATHAN EDWARDS, D.D.
+
+Born in 1745; died in 1801. He was a son of the great Jonathan Edwards,
+and was President of Union College, Schenectady, 1799-1801. This
+portrait shows the fashion of dressing the hair when wigs and powder
+had been banished and the hair hung lank and long in the neck.
+
+PATRICK HENRY
+
+Born in Virginia, 1736; died in Charlotte County, Va., in 1799. An
+orator, patriot, and a leader in the American Revolution. He organized
+the Committees of Correspondence, was a member of Continental Congress,
+1774, of the Virginia Convention, 1775, and was governor of Virginia
+for several terms. This portrait shows him in lawyer’s close wig and
+robe.
+
+“KING” CARTER
+
+Died, 1732.
+
+JUDGE BENJAMIN LYNDE, OF SALEM AND BOSTON, MASS
+
+Died, 1745. Painted by Smybert.
+
+JOHN RUTLEDGE
+
+Born, Charleston, S.C., 1739; died, 1800. He was member of Congress,
+governor of South Carolina, chief justice of Supreme Court. His hair is
+tied in cue.
+
+CAMPAIGN, RAMILLIES, BOB, AND PIGTAIL WIGS
+
+REV. WILLIAM WELSTEED
+
+From an engraving by Copley, his only engraving.
+
+THOMAS HOPKINSON
+
+Born in London, 1709. Came to America in 1731. Married Mary Johnson in
+1736. Made Judge of the Admiralty in 1741. Died in 1751. He was the
+father of Francis the Signer. This portrait is believed to be by Sir
+Godfrey Kneller.
+
+REV. DR. BARNARD
+
+A Connecticut clergyman.
+
+ANDREW ELLICOTT
+
+Born, 1754; died, 1820. A Maryland gentleman of wealth and position.
+
+HERBERT WESTPHALING
+
+Bishop of Hereford, Eng.
+
+HERALD CORNELIUS VANDUM.
+
+Born, 1483; died, 1577, aged ninety-four years. Yeoman of the Guard and
+usher to Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary, and Elizabeth. His beard is
+unique.
+
+SCOTCH BEARD
+
+Worn by Alexander Ross, 1655.
+
+DR. WILLIAM SLATER
+
+Cathedral beard.
+
+DR. JOHN DEE
+
+Born in London, 1527; died, 1608. An English mathematician, astrologer,
+physician, author, and magician. He wrote seventy-nine books, mostly on
+magic. His “pique-a-devant” beard might well “a man’s eye out-pike.”
+
+IRON AND LEATHER PATTENS, 1760
+
+Owned by author.
+
+OAK, IRON, AND LEATHER CLOGS
+
+In Museum of Bucks County Historical Society, Penn.
+
+ENGLISH CLOGS
+
+CHOPINES
+
+Drawing from Chopines in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. The tallest
+chopine had a sole about nine inches thick.
+
+WEDDING CLOGS
+
+These clogs are of silk brocade, and were made to match brocade
+slippers. The one with pointed toe would fit the brocaded shoes of the
+year 1760. The other has with it a high-heeled, black satin slipper of
+the year 1780, to show how they were worn. They forced a curious
+shuffling step.
+
+CLOGS OF PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH
+
+CHILD’S CLOGS
+
+About 1780. Owned by Bucks County Historical Society.
+
+COPLEY FAMILY PICTURE
+
+This group, consisting of the artist, John Singleton Copley, his wife,
+who was formerly a young widow, Susannah Farnham; his wife’s father,
+Richard Clarke, a most respected Boston merchant who was wealthy until
+ruined by the War of the Revolution; and the four little Copley
+children. Elizabeth is between four and five; John Singleton, Jr., is
+the boy of three, who afterwards became Lord Lyndhurst; Mary is aged
+two, and an infant is in the grandfather’s arms. Copley was born in
+1737, and must have been about thirty-seven when this was painted in
+1775. It is deemed by many his masterpiece. The portrait is owned by
+Mr. Amory, but is now in the custody of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
+It is most pronounced, almost startling, in color, every tint being
+absolutely frank.
+
+WEDDING SLIPPERS AND BROCADE STRIP, 1712
+
+Owned by Mrs. Thomas Robinson Harris, of Scarboro on the Hudson, N.Y.
+
+JACK-BOOTS
+
+Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia.
+
+JOSHUA WARNER
+
+A Portsmouth gentleman. This portrait is now in the Boston Museum of
+Fine Arts.
+
+SHOE AND KNEE BUCKLES
+
+They are shoe-buckles, breeches-buckles, garter-buckles, stock-buckles.
+Some are cut silver and gold; others are cut steel; some are paste.
+Some of these were owned by Dr. Edward Holyoke, of Salem, and are now
+owned by Miss Susan W. Osgood, of Salem, Mass.
+
+WEDDING SLIPPERS
+
+Worn in 1760 by granddaughter of Governor Simon Bradstreet. Owned by
+Miss Mary S. Cleveland, of Salem, Mass. Their make and finish are
+curious; they have paste buckles.
+
+ABIGAIL BROMFIELD ROGERS
+
+Painted by Copley in Europe. Owned by Miss Annette Rogers, of Boston,
+Mass.
+
+SLIPPERS
+
+Worn by Mrs. Carroll with the brocade silk sacque. They are embroidered
+in the colors of the brocade.
+
+WHITE KID SLIPPERS, 1810
+
+Owned by author.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS
+
+
+_“Deep-skirted doublets, puritanic capes
+Which now would render men like upright apes
+Was comelier wear, our wiser fathers thought
+Than the cast fashions from all Europe brought”_
+
+—“New England’s Crisis,” BENJAMIN TOMPSON, 1675.
+
+
+_“I am neither Niggard nor Cynic to the due Bravery of the true
+Gentry.”_
+
+—“The simple Cobbler of Agawam,” J. WARD, 1713.
+
+
+_“Never was it happier in England than when an Englishman was known
+abroad by his own cloth; and contented himself at home with his fine
+russet carsey hosen, and a warm slop; his coat, gown, and cloak of
+brown, blue or putre, with some pretty furnishings of velvet or fur,
+and a doublet of sad-tawnie or black velvet or comely silk, without
+such cuts and gawrish colours as are worn in these dayes by those who
+think themselves the gayest men when they have most diversities of
+jagges and changes of colours.”_
+
+—“Chronicles,” HOLINSHED, 1578.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS
+
+
+I
+
+
+t is difficult to discover the reasons, to trace the influences which
+have resulted in the production in the modern mind of that composite
+figure which serves to the everyday reader, the heedless observer, as
+the counterfeit presentment of the New England colonist,—the Boston
+Puritan or Plymouth Pilgrim. We have a very respectable notion, a
+fairly true picture, of Dutch patroon, Pennsylvania Quaker, and
+Virginia planter; but we see a very unreal New Englishman. This “gray
+old Gospeller, sour as midwinter,” appears with goodwife or dame in the
+hastily drawn illustrations of our daily press; we find him outlined
+with greater care but equal inaccuracy in our choicer periodical
+literature; we have him depicted by artists in our handsome books and
+on the walls of our art museums; he is cut in stone and cast in bronze
+for our halls and parks; he is dressed by actors for a part in some
+historical play; he is furbished up with conglomerate and makeshift
+garments by enthusiastic and confident young folk in tableau and
+fancy-dress party; he is richly and amply attired by portly,
+self-satisfied members of our patriotic-hereditary societies; we
+constantly see these figures garbed in semblance in some details, yet
+never in verisimilitude as a whole figure.
+
+We are wont to think of our Puritan forbears, indeed we are determined
+to think of them, garbed in sombre sad-colored garments, in a life
+devoid of color, warmth, or fragrance. But sad color was not dismal and
+dull save in name; it was brown in tone, and brown is warm, and being a
+primitive color is, like many primitive things, cheerful. Old England
+was garbed in hearty honest russet, even in the days of our
+colonization. Read the list of the garments of any master of the manor,
+of the honest English yeoman, of our own sturdy English emigrants from
+manor and farm in Suffolk and Essex. What did they wear across seas?
+What did they wear in the New World? What they wore in England, namely:
+Doublets of leathers, all brown in tint; breeches of various tanned
+skins and hides; untanned leather shoes; jerkins of “filomot” or
+“phillymort” (feuille morte), dead-leaf color; buff-coats of fine buff
+leather; tawny camlet cloaks and jackets of “du Boys” (which was wood
+color); russet hose; horseman’s coats of tan-colored linsey-woolsey or
+homespun ginger-lyne or brown perpetuana; fawn-colored mandillions and
+deer-colored cassocks—all brown; and sometimes a hat of natural beaver.
+Here is a “falding” doublet of “treen color”—and what is treen but
+wooden and wood color is brown again.
+
+It was a fitting dress for their conditions of life. The colonists
+lived close to nature—they touched the beginnings of things; and we are
+close to nature when all dress in russet. The homely “butternuts” of
+the Kentucky mountains express this; so too does khaki, a good, simple
+native dye and stuff; so eagerly welcomed, so closely cherished, as all
+good and primitive things should be.
+
+
+[Illustration: Governor John Endicott]
+
+So when I think of my sturdy Puritan forbears in the summer planting of
+Salem and of Boston, I see them in “honest russet kersey”; gay too with
+the bright stamell-red of their waistcoats and the grain-red linings of
+mandillions; scarlet-capped are they, and enlivened with many a great
+scarlet-hooded cloak. I see them in this attire on shipboard, where
+they were greeted off Salem with “a smell from the shore like the smell
+of a garden”; I see them landing in happy June amid “sweet wild
+strawberries and fair single roses.” I see them walking along the
+little lanes and half-streets in which for many years bayberry and
+sweet-fern lingered in dusty fragrant clumps by the roadside.
+
+“Scented with Cædar and Sweet Fern
+From Heats reflection dry,”
+
+
+wrote of that welcoming shore one colonist who came on the first ship,
+and noted in rhyme what he found and saw and felt and smelt. And I see
+the forefathers standing under the hot little cedar trees of the
+Massachusetts coast, not sober in sad color, but cheery in russet and
+scarlet; and sweetbrier and strawberries, bayberry and cedar, smell
+sweetly and glow genially in that summer sunlight which shines down on
+us through all these two centuries.
+
+We have ample sources from which to learn precisely what was worn by
+these first colonists—men and women—gentle and simple. We have minute
+“Lists of Apparell” furnished by the Colonization Companies to the male
+colonists; we have also ample lists of apparel supplied to individual
+emigrants of varied degree; we have inventories in detail of the
+personal estates of all those who died in the colonies even in the
+earliest years—inventories wherein even a half-worn pair of gloves is
+gravely set down, appraised in value, sworn to, and entered in the town
+records; we have wills giving equal minuteness; we have even the
+articles of dress themselves preserved from moth and rust and mildew;
+we have private letters asking that supplies of clothing be sent across
+seas—clothing substantial and clothing fashionable; we have ships’
+bills of lading showing that these orders were carried out; we have
+curiously minute private letters giving quaint descriptions and hints
+of new and modish wearing apparel; we have sumptuary laws telling what
+articles of clothing must not be worn by those of mean estate; we have
+court records showing trials under these laws; we have ministers’
+sermons denouncing excessive details of fashion, enumerating and almost
+describing the offences; and we have also a goodly number of portraits
+of men and a few of women. I give in this chapter excellent portraits
+of the first governors, Endicott, Winthrop, Bradstreet, Winslow; and
+others could be added. Having all these, do we need fashion-plates or
+magazines of the modes? We have also for the early years great
+instruction through comparison and inference in knowing the English
+fashions of those dates as revealed through inventories, compotuses,
+accounts, diaries, letters, portraits, prints, carvings, and effigies;
+and American fashions varied little from English ones.
+
+
+[Illustration: Governor Edward Winslow]
+
+It is impossible to disassociate the history of costume from the
+general history of the country where such dress is worn. Nor could any
+one write upon dress with discrimination and balance unless he knew
+thoroughly the dress of all countries and likewise the history of all
+countries. Of the special country, he must know more than general
+history, for the relations of small things to great things are too
+close. Influences apparently remote prove vital. At no time was history
+told in dress, and at no period was dress influenced by historical
+events more than during the seventeenth century and in the dress of
+English-speaking folk. The writer on dress should know the temperament
+and character of the dress wearer; this was of special bearing in the
+seventeenth century. It would be thought by any one ignorant of the
+character of the first Puritan settlers, and indifferent to or ignorant
+of historical facts, that in a new world with all the hardships,
+restraints, lacks, and inconveniences, no one, even the vainest woman,
+would think much upon dress, save that it should be warm, comfortable,
+ample, and durable. But, in truth, such was not the case. Even in the
+first years the settlers paid close attention to their attire, to its
+richness, its elegance, its modishness, and watched narrowly also the
+attire of their neighbors, not only from a distinct liking for dress,
+but from a careful regard of social distinctions and from a regard for
+the proprieties and relations of life. Dress was a badge of rank, of
+social standing and dignity; and class distinctions were just as
+zealously guarded in America, the land of liberty, as in England. The
+Puritan church preached simplicity of dress; but the church attendants
+never followed that preaching. All believed, too, that dress had a
+moral effect, as it certainly does; that to dress orderly and well and
+convenable to the existing fashions helped to preserve the morals of
+the individual and general welfare of the community. Eagerly did the
+settlers seek every year, every season, by every incoming ship, by
+every traveller, to learn the changes of fashions in Europe. The first
+native-born poet, Benjamin Tompson, is quoted in the heading of this
+chapter in a wail over thus following new fashions, a wail for the
+“good old times,” as has been the cry of “old fogy” poets and
+philosophers since the days of the ancient classics.
+
+We have ample proof of the love of dignity, of form, of state, which
+dominated even in the first struggling days; we can see the governor of
+Virginia when he landed, turning out his entire force in most formal
+attire and with full company of forty halberdiers in scarlet cloaks to
+attend in imposing procession the church services in the poor little
+church edifice—this when the settlement at Jamestown was scarce more
+than an encampment.
+
+We can read the words of Winthrop, the governor of Massachusetts, in
+which he recounts his mortification at the undignified condition of
+affairs when the governor of the French province, the courtly La Tour,
+landed unexpectedly in Boston and caught the governor picnicking
+peacefully with his family on an island in the harbor, with no
+attendants, no soldiers, no dignitaries. Nor was there any force in the
+fort, and therefore no salute could be given to the distinguished
+visitors; and still more mortifying was the sole announcement of this
+important arrival through the hurried sail across the bay, and the
+running to the governor of a badly scared woman neighbor. We see
+Winthrop trying to recover his dignity in La Tour’s eyes (and in his
+own) by bourgeoning throughout the remainder of the French governor’s
+stay with an imposing guard of soldiers in formal attendance at every
+step he took abroad; ordering them to wear, I am sure, their very
+fullest stuffed doublets and shiniest armor, while he displayed his
+best black velvet suit of garments. Fortunately for New England’s
+appearance, Winthrop was a man of such aristocratic bearing and feature
+that no dress or lack of dress could lower his dignity.
+
+
+Governor John Winthrop. Governor John Winthrop.
+
+Our forbears did not change their dress by emigrating; they may have
+worn heavier clothing in New England, more furs, stronger shoes, but I
+cannot find that they adopted simpler or less costly clothing; any
+change that may have been made through Puritan belief and teaching had
+been made in England. All the colonists
+
+“ ... studied after nyce array,
+And made greet cost in clothing.”
+
+
+Many persons preferred to keep their property in the form of what they
+quaintly called “duds.” The fashion did not wear out more apparel than
+the man; for clothing, no matter what its cut, was worn as long as it
+lasted, doing service frequently through three generations. For
+instance, we find Mrs. Epes, of Ipswich, Massachusetts, when she was
+over fifty years old, receiving this bequest by will: “If she desire to
+have the suit of damask which was the Lady Cheynies her grandmother,
+let her have it upon appraisement.” I have traced a certain flowered
+satin gown and “manto” in four wills; a dame to her daughter; she to
+her sister; then to the child of the last-named who was a granddaughter
+of the first owner. And it was a proud possession to the last. The
+fashions and shapes then did not change yearly. The Boston gentlewoman
+of 1660 would not have been ill dressed or out of the mode in the dress
+worn by her grandmother when she landed in 1625.
+
+Petty details were altered in woman’s dress—though but slightly; the
+change of a cap, a band, a scarf, a ruffle, meant much to the wearer,
+though it seems unimportant to us to-day. Men’s dress, we know from
+portraits, was unaltered for a time save in neckwear and hair-dressing,
+both being of such importance in costume that they must be written upon
+at length.
+
+Let us fix in our minds the limit of reign of each ruler during the
+early years of colonization, and the dates of settlement of each
+colony. When Elizabeth died in 1603, the Brownist Puritans or
+Separatists were well established in Holland; they had been there
+twenty years. They were dissatisfied with their Dutch home, however,
+and had had internal quarrels—one, of petty cause, namely, a “topish
+Hatt,” a “Schowish Hood,” a “garish spitz-fashioned Stomacher,” the
+vain garments of one woman; but the strife over these “abhominations”
+lasted eleven years.
+
+James I was king when the Pilgrims came to America in 1620; but Charles
+I was on the throne in 1630 when John Winthrop arrived with his band of
+friends and followers and settled in Salem and Boston.
+
+The settlement of Portsmouth and Dover in New Hampshire was in 1623,
+and in Maine the same year. The settlements of the Dutch in New
+Netherland were in 1614; while Virginia, named for Elizabeth, the
+Virgin Queen, and discovered in her day, was settled first of all at
+Jamestown in 1607. The Plymouth colony was poor. It came poor from
+Holland, and grew poorer through various misfortunes and set-backs—one
+being the condition of the land near Plymouth. The Massachusetts Bay
+Company was different. It came with properties estimated to be worth a
+million dollars, and it had prospered wonderfully after an opening year
+of want and distress. The relative social condition and means of the
+settlers of Jamestown, of Plymouth, of Boston, were carefully
+investigated from English sources by a thoughtful and fair authority,
+the historian Green. He says of the Boston settlers in his _Short
+History of the English People_:—
+
+
+“Those Massachusetts settlers were not like the earlier colonists of
+the South; broken men, adventurers, bankrupts, criminals; or simply
+poor men and artisans like the Pilgrim Fathers of the _Mayflower_. They
+were in great part men of the professional and middle classes, some of
+them men of large landed estate, some zealous clergymen, some shrewd
+London lawyers or young scholars from Oxford. The bulk were God-fearing
+farmers from Lincolnshire and the Eastern counties.”
+
+
+A full comprehension of these differences in the colonies will make us
+understand certain conditions, certain surprises, as to dress; for
+instance, why so little of the extreme Puritan is found in the dress of
+the first Boston colonists.
+
+There lived in England, near the close of Elizabeth’s reign, a Puritan
+named Philip Stubbes, to whom we are infinitely indebted for our
+knowledge of English dress of his times. It was also the dress of the
+colonists; for details of attire, especially of men’s wear, had not
+changed to any extent since the years in which and of which Philip
+Stubbes wrote.
+
+He published in 1586 a book called _An Anatomie of Abuses_, in which he
+described in full the excesses of England in his day. He wrote with
+spirited, vivid pen, and in plain speech, leaving nothing unspoken lest
+it offend, and he used strong, racy English words and sentences. In his
+later editions he even took pains to change certain “strange, inkhorn
+terms” or complicate words of his first writing into simpler ones. Thus
+he changed _preter time_ to _former ages; auditory_ to _hearers;
+prostrated_ to _humbled; consummate_ to _ended_; and of course this was
+to the book’s advantage. Unusual words still linger, however, but we
+must believe they are not intentionally “outlandish” as was the term of
+the day for such words.
+
+The attitude of Stubbes toward dress and dress wearers is of great
+interest, for he was certainly one of the most severe, most determined,
+most conscientious of Puritans; yet his hatred of “corruptions desiring
+reformation” did not lead him to a hatred of dress in itself. He is
+careful to state in detail in the body of his book and in his preface
+that his attack is not upon the dress of people of wealth and station;
+that he approves of rich dress for the rich. His hatred is for the
+pretentious dress of the many men of low birth or of mean estate who
+lavish their all in dress ill suited to their station; and also his
+reproof is for swindling in dress materials and dress-making; against
+false weights and measures, adulterations and profits; in short,
+against abuses, not uses.
+
+
+Governor Simon Bradstreet. Governor Simon Bradstreet.
+
+His words run thus explicitly:—
+
+
+“Whereas I have spoken of the excesse in apparell, and of the Abuse of
+the same as wel in Men as in Women, generally I would not be so
+understood as though my speaches extended to any either noble honorable
+or worshipful; for I am farre from once thinking that any kind of
+sumptuous or gorgeous Attire is not to be worn of them; as I suppose
+them rather Ornaments in them than otherwise. And therefore when I
+speak of excesse of Apparel my meaning is of the inferiour sorte only
+who for the most parte do farre surpasse either noble honorable or
+worshipful, ruffling in Silks Velvets, Satens, Damaske, Taffeties, Gold
+Silver and what not; these bee the Abuses I speak of, these bee the
+Evills that I lament, and these bee the Persons my wordes doe concern.”
+
+
+There was ample room for reformation from Stubbes’s point of view.
+
+
+“There is such a confuse mingle mangle of apparell and such
+preponderous excess thereof, as every one is permitted to flaunt it out
+in what apparell he has himself or can get by anie kind of means. So
+that it is verie hard to know who is noble, who is worshipful, who is a
+gentleman, who is not; for you shall have those who are neither of the
+nobilytie, gentilitie, nor yeomanrie goe daylie in silks velvets satens
+damasks taffeties notwithstanding they be base by byrth, meane by
+estate and servyle by calling. This a great confusion, a general
+disorder. God bee mercyfull unto us.”
+
+
+This regard of dress was, I take it, the regard of the Puritan reformer
+in general; it was only excess in dress that was hated. This was
+certainly the estimate of the best of the Puritans, and it was
+certainly the belief of the New England Puritan. It would be thought,
+and was thought by some men, that in the New World liberty of religious
+belief and liberty of dress would be given to all. Not at all!—the
+Puritan magistrates at once set to work to show, by means of sumptuary
+laws, rules of town settlement, and laws as to Sunday observance and
+religious services, that nothing of the kind was expected or intended,
+or would be permitted willingly. No religious sects and denominations
+were welcome save the Puritans and allied forms—Brownists,
+Presbyterians, Congregationalists. For a time none other were permitted
+to hold services; no one could wear rich dress save gentlefolk, and
+folk of wealth or some distinction—as Stubbes said, “by being in some
+sort of office”
+
+We shall find in the early pages of this book frequent references to
+Stubbes’s descriptions of articles of dress, but his own life has some
+bearing on his utterances; so let me bear testimony as to his character
+and to the absolute truth of his descriptions. He was held up in his
+own day to contempt by that miserable Thomas Nashe who plagiarized his
+title and helped his own dull book into popularity by calling it _The
+Anatomie of Absurdities_; and who further ran on against him in a still
+duller book, _An Almand for a Parrat_. He called Stubbes “A MarPrelate
+Zealot and Hypocrite” and Stubbes has been held up by others as a
+morose man having no family ties and no social instincts. He was in
+reality the tenderest of husbands to a modest, gentle, pious girl whom
+he married when she was but fourteen, and with whom he lived in ideal
+happiness until her death in child-birth when eighteen years old. He
+bore testimony to his happiness and her goodness in a loving but sad
+and trying book “intituled” _A Christiall Glasse for Christian Women_.
+It is a record of a life which was indeed pure as crystal; a life so
+retiring, so quiet, so composed, so unvarying, a life so remote from
+any gentlewoman’s life to day that it seems of another ether, another
+planet, as well as of another century. But it is useful for us to know
+it, notwithstanding its background of gloomy religionism and its air of
+unreality; for it helps us to understand the character of Puritan women
+and of Philip Stubbes. This fair young wife died in an ecstasy, her
+voice triumphant, her face radiant with visions of another and a
+glorious life. And yet she was not wholly happy in death; for she had a
+Puritan conscience, and she thought she _must_ have offended God in
+some way. She had to search far indeed for the offence; and this was
+it—it would be absurd if it were not so true and so deep in its
+sentiment of regret. She and her husband had set their hearts too much
+in affection upon a little dog that they had loved well, and she found
+now that “it was a vanitye”; and she repented of it, and bade them bear
+the dog from her bedside. Knowing Stubbes’s love for this little dog
+(and knowing it must have been a spaniel, for they were then being well
+known and beloved and were called “Spaniel-gentles or comforters”—a
+wonderfully appropriate name), I do not much mind the fierce words with
+which he stigmatizes the vanity and extravagance of women. I have a
+strong belief too that if we knew the dress of his child-wife, we would
+find that he liked her bravely even richly attired, and that he
+acquired his wonderful mastery of every term and detail of women’s
+dress, every term of description, through a very uxorious regard of his
+wife’s apparel.
+
+
+Sir Richard Saltonstall. Sir Richard Saltonstall.
+
+Of the absolute truth of every word in Stubbes’s accounts we have ample
+corroborative proof. He wrote in real earnest, in true zeal, for the
+reform of the foolery and extravagance he saw around him, not against
+imaginary evils. There is ample proof in the writings of his
+contemporaries—in Shakespere’s comparisons, in Harrison’s sensible
+_Description of England_, in Tom Coryat’s _Crudities_—and oddities—of
+the existence of this foolishness and extravagance. There is likewise
+ample proof in the sumptuary laws of Elizabeth’s day.
+
+It would have been the last thing the solemn Stubbes could have liked
+or have imagined, that he should have afforded important help to future
+writers upon costume, yet such is the case. For he described the dress
+of English men and women with as much precision as a modern reporter of
+the modes. No casual survey of dress could have furnished to him the
+detail of his description. It required much examination and inquiry,
+especially as to the minutiae of women’s dress. Therefore when I read
+his bitter pages (if I can forget the little pet spaniel) I have always
+a comic picture in my mind of a sour, morose, shocked old Puritan, “a
+meer, bitter, narrow-sould Puritan” clad in cloak and doublet, with
+great horn spectacles on nose, and ample note-book, penner, and
+ink-horn in hand, agonizingly though eagerly surveying the figure of
+one of his fashion-clad women neighbors, walking around her slowly,
+asking as he walked the name of this jupe, the price of that pinner,
+the stuff of this sleeve, the cut of this cap, groaning as he wrote it
+all down, yet never turning to squire or knight till every detail of
+her extravagance and “greet cost” is recorded. In spite of all his
+moralizing his quill pen had too sharp a point, his scowling forehead
+and fierce eyes too keen a power of vision ever to render to us a dull
+page; even the author of _Wimples and Crisping Pins_ might envy his
+powers of perception and description.
+
+The bravery of the Jacobean gallant did not differ in the main from his
+dress under Elizabeth; but in details he found some extravagances. The
+love-locks became more prominent, and shoe-roses and garters both grew
+in size. Pomanders were carried by men and women, and
+“casting-bottles.” Gloves and pockets were perfumed. As musk was the
+favorite scent this perfume-wearing is not over-alluring. As a
+preventive of the plague all perfumes were valued.
+
+Since a hatred and revolt against this excess was one of the conditions
+which positively led to the formation of the Puritan political party if
+not of the Separatist religious faith, and as a consequence to the
+settlement of the English colonies in America, let us recount the
+conditions of dress in England when America was settled. Let us regard
+first the dress of a courtier whose name is connected closely and
+warmly in history and romance with the colonization of America; a man
+who was hated by the Pilgrim and Puritan fathers but whose dress in
+some degree and likeness, though modified and simplified, must have
+been worn by the first emigrants to Virginia across seas—let us look at
+the portrait of Sir Walter Raleigh. He was a hero and a scholar, but he
+was also a courtier; and of a court, too, where every court-attendant
+had to bethink himself much and ever of dress, for dress occupied
+vastly the thought and almost wholly the public conversation of his
+queen and her successor.
+
+
+Sir Walter Raleigh. Sir Walter Raleigh.
+
+To understand Raleigh’s dress, you must know the man and his life; to
+comprehend its absurdities and forgive its follies and see whence it
+originated, you must know Elizabeth and her dress; you must see her
+with “oblong face, eyes small, yet black; her nose a little hooked, her
+lips narrow, her teeth black; false hair and that red,”—these are the
+striking and plain words of the German ambassador to her court. You
+must look at this queen with her colorless meagre person lost in a
+dress monstrous in size, yet hung, even in its enormous expanse of many
+square yards, with crowded ornaments, tags, jewels, laces,
+embroideries, gimp, feathers, knobs, knots, and aglets, with these
+bedizened rankly, embellished richly. You must see her talking in
+public of buskins and gowns, love-locks and virginals, anything but
+matters of seriousness or of state; you must note her at a formal
+ceremonial tickling handsome Dudley in the neck; watch her dancing,
+“most high and disposedly” when in great age; you must see her giving
+Essex a hearty boxing of the ear; hear her swearing at her ministers.
+You must remember, too, her parents, her heritage. From King Henry VIII
+came her love of popularity, her great activity, her extraordinary
+self-confidence, her indomitable will, her outbursts of anger, her
+cruelty, just as came her harsh, mannish voice. From her mother, Anne
+Boleyn, came her sensuous love of pleasure, of dress, of flattery, of
+gayety and laughter. Her nature came from her mother, her temper from
+her father. The familiarity with Robert Dudley was but a piece with her
+boisterous romps in her girlhood, and her flap in the face of young
+Talbot when he saw her “unready in my night-stuff.” But she had more in
+her than came from Henry and Anne; she had her own individuality, which
+made her as hard as steel, made her resolute, made her live frugally
+and work hard, and, above all, made her know her limitations. The
+woman, be she queen or the plainest mortal, who can estimate accurately
+her own limitations, who is proof against enthusiasm, proof against
+ambition, and, at a climax, proof against flattery, who knows what she
+can _not_ do, in that very thing finds success. Elizabeth was and ever
+will be a wonderful character-study; I never weary of reading or
+thinking of her.
+
+The settlement of Massachusetts was under James I; but costume varied
+little, save that it became more cumbersome. This may be attributed
+directly to the cowardice of the king, who wore quilted and
+padded—dagger-proof—clothing; and thus gave to his courtiers an example
+of stuffing and padding which exceeded even that of the men of
+Elizabeth’s day. “A great, round, abominable breech,” did the satirists
+call it. Stays had to be worn beneath the long-waisted,
+peascod-bellied, stuffed doublet to keep it in shape; thus a man’s
+attire had scarcely a single natural outline.
+
+We have this description of Raleigh, courtier and “servant” of
+Elizabeth and victim of James, given by a contemporary, Aubrey:—
+
+
+“He looked like a Knave with his gogling eyes. He could transform
+himself into any shape. He was a tall, handsome, bold man; but his
+naeve was that he was damnably proud. A good piece of him is in a white
+satin doublet all embroidered with rich pearls, and a mighty told me
+that the true pearls were nigh as big as the painted ones. He had a
+most remarkable aspect, an exceeding high forehead, long faced, and
+sour eie-lidded, a kind of pigge-eie.”
+
+
+We leave the choice of belief between one sentence of this personal
+description, that he was handsome, and the later plain-spoken details
+to the judgment of the reader. Certainly both statements cannot be
+true. As I look at his portrait, the “good piece of him” here, I wholly
+disbelieve the former.
+
+
+Sir Walter Raleigh and Son. Sir Walter Raleigh and Son.
+
+His laced-in, stiffened waist, his absurd breeches, his ruffs and
+sashes and knots, his great shoe-roses, his jewelled hatband, make this
+a fantastic picture, one of little dignity, though of vast cost. The
+jewels on his shoes were said to have cost thirty thousand pounds; and
+the perfect pearls in his ear, as seen in another portrait, must have
+been an inch and a half long. He had doublets entirely covered with a
+pattern of jewels. In another portrait (here) his little son, poor
+child, stands by his side in similar stiff attire. The famous portrait
+of Sir Philip Sidney and his brother is equally comic in its absurdity
+of costume for young lads.
+
+Read these words descriptive of another courtier, of the reign of
+James; his favorite, the Duke of Buckingham:—
+
+
+“With great buttons of diamonds, and with diamond hat bands, cockades
+and ear-rings, yoked with great and manifold knots of pearls. At his
+going over to Paris in 1625 he had twenty-seven suits of clothes made
+the richest that embroidery, gems, lace, silk, velvet, gold and stones
+could contribute; one of which was a white uncut velvet set all over
+suit and cloak with diamonds valued at £14,000 besides a great feather
+stuck all over with diamonds, as were also his sword, girdle, hat-band
+and spurs.”
+
+
+These were all courtiers, but we should in general think of an English
+merchant as dressed richly but plainly; yet here is the dress of
+Marmaduke Rawdon, a merchant of that day:—
+
+
+“The apparell he rid in, with his chaine of gold and hat band was
+vallued in a thousand Spanish ducats; being two hundred and seventy and
+five pounds sterling. His hatband was of esmeralds set in gold; his
+suite was of a fine cloth trim’d with a small silke and gold fringe;
+the buttons of his suite fine gold—goldsmith’s work; his rapier and
+dagger richly hatcht with gold.”
+
+
+The white velvet dress of Buckingham showed one of the extreme fashions
+of the day, the wearing of pure white. Horace Walpole had a full-length
+painting of Lord Falkland all in white save his black gloves. Another
+of Sir Godfrey Hart, 1600, is all in white save scarlet heels to the
+shoes. These scarlet heels were worn long in every court. Who will ever
+forget their clatter in the pages of Saint Simon, as they ran in
+frantic haste through hall and corridor—in terror, in cupidity, in
+satisfaction, in zeal to curry favor, in desire to herald the news, in
+hope to obtain office, in every mean and detestable spirit—ran from the
+bedside of the dying king? We can still hear, after two centuries, the
+noisy, heartless tapping of those hurrying red heels.
+
+
+Robert Devereux Earle of Essex His Excellency & Generall of y° Army.
+Pub April 1. 1799 by W Richardson York House N° 31 Strand Robert
+Devereux
+
+Look at the portrait of another courtier, Sir Robert Dudley, who died
+in 1639; not the Robert Dudley who was tickled in the neck by Queen
+Elizabeth while he was being dubbed earl; not the Dudley who murdered
+Amy Robsart, but his disowned son by a noble lady whom he secretly
+married and dishonored. This son was a brave sailor and a learned man.
+He wrote the _Arcana del Mare_, and he was a sportsman; “the first of
+all that taught a dog to sit in order to catch partridges.” His
+portrait shows clumsy armor and showy rings, a great jewel and a vast
+tie of gauze ribbon on one arm; on the other a cord with many aglets;
+he wears marvellously embroidered, slashed, and bombasted breeches,
+tight hose, a heavily jewelled, broad belt; and a richly fringed scarf
+over one shoulder, and ridiculous garters at his calf. It is so absurd,
+so vain a dress one cannot wonder that sensible gentlemen turned away
+in disgust to so-called Puritan plainness, even if it went to the
+extreme of Puritan ugliness.
+
+But in truth the eccentrics and extremes of Puritan dress were adopted
+by zealots; the best of that dress only was worn by the best men of the
+party. All Puritans were not like Philip Stubbes, the moralist; nor did
+all Royalists dress like Buckingham, the courtier.
+
+I have spoken of the influence of the word “sad-color.” I believe that
+our notion of the gloom of Puritan dress, of the dress certainly of the
+New England colonist, comes to us through it, for the term was
+certainly much used. A Puritan lover in Dorchester, Massachusetts, in
+1645, wrote to his lass that he had chosen for her a sad-colored gown.
+Winthrop wrote, “Bring the coarsest woolen cloth, so it be not flocks,
+and of sad colours and some red;” and he ordered a “grave gown” for his
+wife, “not black, but sad-colour.” But while sad-colored meant a quiet
+tint, it did not mean either a dull stone color or a dingy grayish
+brown—nor even a dark brown. We read distinctly in an English list of
+dyes of the year 1638 of these tints in these words, “Sadd-colours the
+following; liver colour, De Boys, tawney, russet, purple, French green,
+ginger-lyne, deere colour, orange colour.” Of these nine tints, five,
+namely, “De Boys,” tawny, russet, ginger-lyne, and deer color, were all
+browns. Other colors in this list of dyes were called “light colours”
+and “graine colours.” Light colors were named plainly as those which
+are now termed by shopmen “evening shades”; that is, pale blue, pink,
+lemon, sulphur, lavender, pale green, ecru, and cream color. Grain
+colors were shades of scarlet, and were worn as much as russet. When
+dress in sad colors ranged from purple and French green through the
+various tints of brown to orange, it was certainly not a _dull_-colored
+dress.
+
+Let us see precisely what were the colors of the apparel of the first
+colonists. Let us read the details of russet and scarlet. We find them
+in _The Record of the Governor and Company of the Massachusetts Bay in
+New England_, one of the incontrovertible sources which are a delight
+to every true historian. These records are in the handwriting of the
+first secretary, Washburn, and contain lists of the articles sent on
+the ships _Talbot, George, Lion’s Whelp, Four Sisters_, and _Mayflower_
+for the use of the plantation at Naumkeag (Salem) and later at Boston.
+They give the amount of iron, coal, and bricks sent as ballast; the red
+lead, sail-cloth, and copper; and in 1629, at some month and day
+previous to 16th of March, give the order for the “Apparell for 100
+men.” We learn that each colonist had this attire:—
+
+
+“4 Pair Shoes.
+2 Pair Irish Stockings about 13d. a pair.
+1 Pair knit Stockings about 2s. 4d. a pair.
+1 Pair Norwich Garters about 5s. a dozen.
+4 Shirts.
+2 Suits of Doublet and Hose; of leather lined with oiled skin leather,
+the hose and doublet with hooks and eyes.
+1 Suit of Northern Dussens or Hampshire Kerseys lined, the hose with
+skins, the doublet with linen of Guildford or Gedleyman serges, 2s.
+10d. a yard, 4-1/2 to 5 yards a suit.
+4 Bands.
+2 Plain falling bands.
+1 Standing band.
+1 Waistcoat of green cotton bound about with red tape.
+1 Leather Girdle.
+2 Monmouth Cap, about 2s. apiece.
+1 Black Hat lined at the brim with leather.
+5 Red knit caps milled; about 5d. apiece.
+2 Dozen Hooks and eyes and small hooks and eyes for mandillions.
+1 Pair Calfs Leather gloves (and some odd pairs of knit and sheeps
+leather gloves).
+A number of Ells Sheer Linen for Handkerchiefs.”
+
+
+On March 16th was added to this list a mandillion lined with cotton at
+12d. a yard. Also breeches and waistcoats; a leather suit of doublet
+and breeches of oiled leather; a pair of breeches of leather, “the
+drawers to serve to wear with both their other suits.” There was also
+full, yes, generous for the day, provision of rugs, bedticks, bolsters,
+mats, blankets, and sheets for the berths, and table linen. There were
+fifty beds; evidently two men occupied each bed. Folk, even of wealth
+and refinement, were not at all sensitive as to their mode of sleeping
+or their bedfellows. The pages of Pepys’s _Diary_ give ample examples
+of this carelessness.
+
+Arms and armor were also furnished, as will be explained in a later
+chapter.
+
+A private letter written by an engineer, one Master Graves, the
+following year (1630), giving a list of “such needful things as every
+planter ought to provide,” affords a more curt and much less expensive
+list, though this has three full suits, two being of wool stuffs:—
+
+
+“1 Monmouth Cap.
+3 Falling Bands.
+3 Shirts.
+1 Waistcoat.
+1 Suit Canvass.
+1 Suit Frieze.
+1 Suit of Cloth.
+3 Pair of Stockings.
+4 Pair of Shoes.
+Armour complete.
+Sword &; Belt.”
+
+
+The underclothing in this outfit seems very scanty.
+
+I am sure that to some of the emigrants on these ships either outfit
+afforded an ampler wardrobe than they had known theretofore in England,
+though English folk of that day were well dressed. With a little
+consideration we can see that the Massachusetts Bay apparel was
+adequate for all occasions, but it was far different from a man’s dress
+to-day. The colonist “hadn’t a coat to his back”; nor had he a pair of
+trousers. Some had not even a pair of breeches. It was a time when
+great changes in dress were taking place. The ancient gown had just
+been abandoned for doublet and long hose, which were still in high
+esteem, especially among “the elder sort,” with garters or points for
+the knees. These doublets were both of leather and wool. And there were
+also doublets to be worn by younger men with breeches and stockings.
+
+When doublet and hose were worn, the latter were, of course, the long,
+Florentine hose, somewhat like our modern tights.
+
+The jerkin of other lists varied little from the doublet; both were
+often sleeveless, and the cassock in turn was different only in being
+longer; buff-coat and horseman’s coat were slightly changed. The
+evolution of doublet, jerkin, and cassock into a man’s coat is a long
+enough story for a special chapter, and one which took place just while
+America was being settled. Let me explain here that, while the general
+arrangement of this book is naturally chronological, we halt upon our
+progress at times, to review a certain aspect of dress, as, for
+instance, the riding-dress of women, or the dress of the Quakers, or to
+review the description of certain details of dress in a consecutive
+account. We thus run on ahead of our story sometimes; and other times,
+topics have to be resumed and reviewed near the close of the book.
+
+The breeches worn by the early planters were fulled at the waist and
+knee, after the Dutch fashion, somewhat like our modern knickerbockers
+or the English bag-breeches.
+
+The four pairs of shoes furnished to the colonists were the best. In
+another entry the specifications of their make are given thus:—
+
+
+“Welt Neats Leather shoes crossed on the out-side with a seam. To be
+substantial good over-leather of the best, and two soles; the under
+sole of Neats-leather, the outer sole of tallowed backs.”
+
+
+They were to be of ample size, some thirteen inches long; each
+reference to them insisted upon good quality.
+
+There is plentiful head-gear named in these inventories,—six caps and a
+hat for each man, at a time when Englishmen thought much and deeply
+upon what they wore to cover their heads, and at a time when hats were
+very costly. I give due honor to those hats in an entire chapter, as I
+do to the ruffs and bands supplied in such adequate and dignified
+numbers. There was an unusually liberal supply of shirts, and there
+were drawers which are believed to have been draw-strings for the
+breeches.
+
+In _New England’s First Fruits_ we read instructions to bring over
+“good Irish stockings, which if they are good are much more serviceable
+than knit ones.” There appears to have been much variety in shape as
+well as in material. John Usher, writing in 1675 to England, says,
+“your sherrups stockings and your turn down stocking are not salable
+here.” Nevertheless, stirrup stockings and socks were advertised in the
+Boston News Letter as late as January 30, 1731. Stirrup-hose are
+described in 1658 as being very wide at the top—two yards wide—and
+edged with points or eyelet holes by which they were made fast to the
+girdle or bag-breeches. Sometimes they were allowed to bag down over
+the garter. They are said to have been worn on horseback to protect the
+other garments.
+
+Stockings at that time were made of cotton and woollen cloth more than
+they were knitted. Calico stockings are found in inventories, and often
+stockings as well as hose with calico linings. In the clothing of
+William Wright of Plymouth, at his death in 1633, were
+
+
+“2 Pair Old Knit Stockins.
+2 Pair Old Yrish Stockins.
+2 Pair Cloth Stockins.
+2 Pair Wadmoll Stockins.
+4 Pair Linnen Stockins,”
+
+
+which would indicate that Goodman Wright had stockings for all
+weathers, or, as said a list of that day, “of all denominations.” He
+had also two pair of boot-hose and two pair of boot-briches; evidently
+he was a seafaring man. I must note that he had more ample
+underclothing than many “plain citizens,” having cotton drawers and
+linen drawers and dimity waistcoats.
+
+That petty details of propriety and dignity of dress were not
+forgotten; that the articles serving to such dignity were furnished to
+the colonists, and the use of these articles was expected of them, is
+shown by the supply of such additions to dress as Norwich garters.
+Garters had been a decorative and elegant ornament to dress, as may be
+seen by glancing at the portraits of Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir Robert
+Orchard, and the _English Antick_, in this book. And they might well
+have been decried as offensive luxuries unmeet for any Puritan and
+unnecessary for any colonist; yet here they are. The settlers in one of
+the closely following ships had points for the knee as well as garters.
+
+From all this cheerful and ample dress, this might well be a Cavalier
+emigration; in truth, the apparel supplied as an outfit to the Virginia
+planters (who are generally supposed to be far more given over to rich
+dress) is not as full nor as costly as this apparel of Massachusetts
+Bay. In this as in every comparison I make, I find little to indicate
+any difference between Puritan and Cavalier in quantity of garments, in
+quality, or cost—or, indeed, in form. The differences in England were
+much exaggerated in print; in America they often existed wholly in
+men’s notions of what a Puritan must be.
+
+At first the English Puritan reformers made marked alterations in
+dress; and there were also distinct changes in the soldiers of
+Cromwell’s army, but in neither case did rigid reforms prove permanent,
+nor were they ever as great or as sweeping as the changes which came to
+the Cavalier dress. Many of the extremes preached in Elizabeth’s day
+had disappeared before New England was settled; they had been abandoned
+as unwise or unnecessary; others had been adopted by Cavaliers, so that
+equalized all differences. I find it difficult to pick out with
+accuracy Puritan or Cavalier in any picture of a large gathering. Let
+us glance at the Puritan Roundhead, at Cromwell himself. His picture is
+given here, cut from a famous print of his day, which represents
+Cromwell dissolving the Long Parliament. He and his three friends, all
+Puritan leaders, are dressed in clothes as distinctly Cavalier as the
+attire of the king himself. The graceful hats with sweeping ostrich
+feathers are precisely like the Cavalier hats still preserved in
+England; like one in the South Kensington Museum. Cromwell’s wide boots
+and his short cape all have a Cavalier aspect.
+
+
+Cromwell dissolving Parliament. Be gone you rogues/You have Sate long
+enough. Cromwell dissolving Parliament.
+
+While Cromwell was steadily working for power, the fashion of plain
+attire was being more talked about than at any other time; so he
+appeared in studiously simple dress—the plainest apparel, indeed, of
+any man prominent in affairs in English history. This is a description
+of his appearance at a time before his name was in all Englishmen’s
+mouths. It was written by Sir Philip Warwick:—
+
+
+“The first time I ever took notice of him (Cromwell) was in the
+beginning of Parliament, November, 1640. I came into the house one
+morning, well-clad, and perceived a gentleman speaking whom I knew not,
+very ordinary apparelled, for it was a plain cloth suit which seemed to
+have been made by an ill country tailor. His linen was plain and not
+very clean, and I remember a speck or two of blood upon his band which
+was not much larger than his collar; his hat was without a hat-band;
+his stature was of good size; his sword stuck close to his side.”
+
+
+Lowell has written of what he terms verbal magic; the power of certain
+words and sentences, apparently simple, and without any recognizable
+quality, which will, nevertheless, fix themselves in our memory, or
+will picture a scene to us which we can never forget. This description
+of Cromwell has this magic. There is no apparent reason why these
+plain, commonplace words should fix in my mind this simple, rough-hewn
+form; yet I never can think of Cromwell otherwise than in this attire,
+and whatever portrait I see of him, I instinctively look for the spot
+of blood on his band. I know of his rich dress after he was in power;
+of that splendid purple velvet suit in which he lay majestic in death;
+but they never seem to me to be Cromwell—he wears forever an ill-cut,
+clumsy cloth suit, a close sword, and rumpled linen.
+
+The noble portraits of Cromwell by the miniaturist, Samuel Cooper,
+especially the one which is at Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, are
+held to be the truest likenesses. They show a narrow band, but the hair
+curls softly on the shoulders. The wonderful portrait of the Puritan
+General Ireton, in the National Portrait Gallery, has beautiful, long
+hair, and a velvet suit much slashed, and with many loops and buttons
+at the slashes. He wears mustache and imperial. We expect we may find
+that friend of Puritanism, Lucius Carey, Lord Falkland, in rich dress;
+and we find him in the richest of dress; namely, a doublet made, as to
+its body and large full sleeves, wholly of bands an inch or two wide of
+embroidery and gold lace, opening like long slashes from throat to
+waist, and from arm-scye to wrist over fine white lawn, and with extra
+slashes at various spots, with the full white lawn of his “habit-shirt”
+pulled out in pretty puffs. His hair is long and curling. General
+Waller of Cromwell’s army, here shown, is the very figure of a
+Cavalier, as handsome a face, with as flowing hair and careful
+mustache, as the Duke of Buckingham, or Mr. Endymion Porter,—that
+courtier of courtiers,—gentleman of the bed-chamber to Charles I.
+Cornet Joyce, the sturdy personal custodian of the king in captivity,
+came the closest to being a Roundhead; but even his hair covers his ear
+and hangs over his collar—it would be deemed over-long to-day.
+
+
+Sir William Waller. Sir William Waller.
+
+Here is Lord Fairfax in plain buff coat slightly laced and slashed with
+white satin. Fanshawe dressed—so his wife tells us—in “phillamot
+brocade with 9 Laces every one as broad as my hand, a little gold and
+silver lace between and both of curious workmanship.” And his suit was
+gay with scarlet knots of ribbon; and his legs were cased in white silk
+hose over scarlet ones; and he wore black shoes with scarlet shoe
+strings and scarlet roses and garters; and his gloves were trimmed with
+scarlet ribbon—a fine “gaybeseen”—to use Chaucer’s words.
+
+Surprising to all must be the portrait of that Puritan figurehead, the
+Earl of Leicester; for he wears an affected double-peaked beard, a
+great ruff, feathered hat, richly jewelled hatband and collar, and an
+ear-ring. Shown here is the dress he wore when masquerading in Holland
+as general during the Netherland insurrection against Philip II.
+
+It is strange to find even writers of intelligence calling Winthrop and
+Endicott Roundheads. A recent magazine article calls Myles Standish a
+Roundhead captain. That term was not invented till a score of years
+after Myles Standish landed at Plymouth. A political song printed in
+1641 is entitled _The Character of a Roundhead_. It begins:—
+
+“What creature’s this with his short hairs
+His little band and huge long ears
+     That this new faith hath founded?
+
+“The Puritans were never such,
+The saints themselves had ne’er as much.
+     Oh, such a knave’s a Roundhead.”
+
+
+
+
+The right Honourable Ferdinand Lord Fairfax. The right Honourable
+Ferdinand—Lord Fairfax.
+
+Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson was the wife of a Puritan gentleman, who was
+colonel in Cromwell’s army, and one of the regicide judges. She wrote a
+history of her husband’s life, which is one of the most valuable
+sources of information of the period wherein he lived, the day when
+Cromwell and Hampden acted, when Laud and Strafford suffered. In this
+history she tells explicitly of the early use of the word Roundhead:—
+
+
+“The name of Roundhead coming so opportunely, I shall make a little
+digression to show how it came up: When Puritanism grew a faction, the
+Zealots distinguished themselves by several affectations of habit,
+looks and words, which had it been a real forsaking of vanity would
+have been most commendable. Among other affected habits, few of the
+Puritans, what degree soever they were, wore their hair long enough to
+cover their ears; and the ministers and many others cut it close around
+their heads with so many little peaks—as was something ridiculous to
+behold. From this custom that name of Roundhead became the scornful
+term given to the whole Parliament Party, whose army indeed marched out
+as if they had only been sent out till their hair was grown. Two or
+three years later any stranger that had seen them would have inquired
+the meaning of that name.”
+
+
+It is a pleasure to point out Colonel Hutchinson as a Puritan, though
+there was little in his dress to indicate the significance of such a
+name for him, and certainly he was not a Roundhead, with his light
+brown hair “softer than the finest silk and curling in great loose
+rings at the ends—a very fine, thick-set head of hair.” He loved
+dancing, fencing, shooting, and hawking; he was a charming musician; he
+had judgment in painting, sculpture, architecture, and the “liberal
+arts.” He delighted in books and in gardening and in all rarities; in
+fact, he seemed to care for everything that was “lovely and of good
+report.” “He was wonderfully neat, cleanly and genteel in his habit,
+and had a very good fancy in it, but he left off very early the wearing
+of anything very costly, yet in his plainest habit appeared very much a
+gentleman.” Such dress was the _best_ of Puritan dress; just as he was
+the best type of a Puritan. He was cheerful, witty, happy, eager,
+earnest, vivacious—a bit quick in temper, but kind, generous, and good.
+He was, in truth, what is best of all,—a noble, consistent, Christian
+gentleman.
+
+Those who have not acquired from accurate modern portrayal and
+representation their whole notion of the dress of the early colonists
+have, I find, a figure in their mind’s eye something like that of
+Matthew Hopkins the witch-finder. Hogarth’s illustrations of Hudibras
+give similar Puritans. Others have figures, dull and plainly dressed,
+from the pictures in some book of saints and martyrs of the Puritan
+church, such as were found in many an old New England home. _My_
+Puritan is reproduced here. I have found in later years that this
+Alderman Abel of my old print was quite a character in English history;
+having been given with Cousin Kilvert the monopoly of the sale of wines
+at retail, one of those vastly lucrative privileges which brought forth
+the bitterest denunciations from Sir John Eliot, who regarded them as
+an infamous imposition upon the English people. The site of Abel’s
+house had once belonged to Cardinal Wolsey; and it was popularly
+believed that Abel found and used treasure of the cardinal which had
+been hidden in his cellar. He was called the “Main Projector and
+Patentee for the Raising of Wines.” Unfortunately for my theory that
+Abel was a typical Puritan, he was under the protection of King Charles
+I; and Cromwell’s Parliament put an end to his monopoly in 1641, and
+his dress was simply that of any dull, uninteresting, commonplace, and
+common Englishman of his day.
+
+
+Alderman Abell and Richard Kilvert, the two maine Projectors for Wine,
+1641. Mr. Alderman Abell and Richard Kilvert, the two maine Projectors
+for Wine, 1641.
+
+Another New England man who is constantly called a Roundhead is Cotton
+Mather; with equal inconsequence and inaccuracy he is often referred
+to, and often stigmatized, as “the typical Puritan colonist,” a narrow,
+bigoted Gospeller. I have open before me an editorial from a reputable
+newspaper which speaks of Cotton Mather dressed in dingy, skimped,
+sad-colored garments “shivering in the icy air of Plymouth as he
+uncovered his close-clipped Round-head when he landed on the Rock from
+the _Mayflower_.” He was in fact born in America; he was not a Plymouth
+man, and did not die till more than a century after the landing of the
+_Mayflower_, and, of course, he was not a Roundhead. Another drawing of
+Cotton Mather, in a respectable magazine, depicts him with clipped
+hair, emaciated, clad in clumsy garments, mean and haggard in
+countenance, raising a bundle of rods over a cowering Indian child.
+Now, Cotton Mather was distinctly handsome, as may be seen from his
+picture here, which displays plainly the full, sensual features of the
+Cotton family, shown in John Cotton’s portrait. And the Roundhead is in
+an elegant, richly curled periwig, such as was fashionable a hundred
+years after the _Mayflower_. And though he had the tormenting Puritan
+conscience he was not wholly a Puritan, for the world, the flesh, and
+the devil were strong in him. He was much more gentle and tender than
+men of that day were in general; especially with all children, white
+and Indian, and was most conscientious in his relations both to Indians
+and negroes. And in those days of universal whippings by English and
+American schoolmasters and parents, he spoke in no uncertain voice his
+horror and disapproval of the rod for children, and never countenanced
+or permitted any whippings.
+
+
+Reverend John Cotton. Reverend John Cotton.
+
+
+Reverend Cotton Mather. Reverend Cotton Mather.
+
+There was certainly great diversity in dress among those who called
+themselves Puritans. Some amusing stories are told of that strange,
+restless, brilliant creature, the major-general of Cromwell’s
+army,—Harrison. When the first-accredited ambassador sent by any great
+nation to the new republic came to London, there was naturally some
+stir as to the wisdom of certain details of demeanor and dress. It was
+a ticklish time. The new Commonwealth must command due honor, and the
+day before the audience a group of Parliament gentlemen, among them
+Colonel Hutchinson and one who was afterwards the Earl of Warwick, were
+seated together when Harrison came in and spoke of the coming audience,
+and admonished them all—and Hutchinson in particular, “who was in a
+habit pretty rich but grave and none other than he usually wore”—that,
+now nations sent to them, they must “shine in wisdom and piety, not in
+gold and silver and worldly bravery which did not become saints.” And
+he asked them not to appear before the ambassador in “gorgeous habits.”
+So the colonel—though he was not “convinced of any misbecoming bravery
+in a suit of sad-coloured cloth trimmed with gold and with silver
+points and buttons”—still conformed to his comrade’s opinion, and
+appeared as did all the other gentlemen in solemn, handsome black. When
+who should come in, “all in red and gold-a,”—in scarlet coat and cloak
+laden with gold and silver, “the coat so covered with clinquant one
+could scarcely discern the ground,” and in this gorgeous and glittering
+habit seat himself alone just under the speaker’s chair and receive the
+specially low respects and salutes of all in the ambassador’s
+train,—who should thus blazon and brazon and bourgeon forth but
+Harrison! I presume, though Hutchinson was a Puritan and a saint, he
+was a bit chagrined at his black suit of garments, and a bit angered at
+being thus decoyed; and it touched Madam Hutchinson deeply.
+
+But Hutchinson had his turn to wear gay clothes. A great funeral was to
+be given to Ireton, who was his distant kinsman; yet Cromwell, from
+jealousy, sent no bidding or mourning suit to him. A general invitation
+and notice was given to the whole assembly, and on the hour of the
+funeral, within the great, gloomy state-chamber, hung in funereal
+black, and filled with men in trappings of woe, covered with great
+black cloaks with long, weeping hatbands drooping to the ground, in
+strode Hutchinson; this time he was in scarlet and cliquante, “such as
+he usually wore,”—so wrote his wife,—astonishing the eyes of all,
+especially the diplomats and ambassadors who were present, who probably
+deemed him of so great station as to be exempt from wearing black. The
+master of ceremonies timidly regretted to him, in hesitating words,
+that no mourning had been sent—it had been in some way overlooked; the
+General could not, thus unsuitably dressed, follow the coffin in the
+funeral procession—it would not look well; the master of ceremonies
+would be rebuked—all which proved he did not know Hutchinson, for
+follow he could, and would, and did, in this rich dress. And he walked
+through the streets and stood in the Abbey, with his scarlet cloak
+flaunting and fluttering like a gay tropical bird in the midst of a
+slowly flying, sagging flock of depressed black crows,—you have seen
+their dragging, heavy flight,—and was looked upon with admiration and
+love by the people as a splendid and soldierly figure.
+
+We must not forget that the years which saw the settlement of Salem and
+Boston were not under the riot of dress countenanced by James. Charles
+I was then on the throne; and the rich and beautiful dress worn by that
+king had already taken shape.
+
+There has been an endeavor made to attribute this dress to the
+stimulus, to the influence, of Puritan feeling. Possibly some of the
+reaction against the absurdities of Elizabeth and James may have helped
+in the establishment of this costume; but I think the excellent taste
+of Charles and especially of his queen, Henrietta Maria, who succeeded
+in making women’s dress wholly beautiful, may be thanked largely for
+it. And we may be grateful to the painter Van Dyck; for he had not only
+great taste as to dress, and genius in presenting his taste to the
+public, but he had a singular appreciation of the pictorial quality of
+dress and a power of making dress appropriate to the wearer. And he
+fully understood its value in indicating character.
+
+Since Van Dyck formed and painted these fine and elegant modes, they
+are known by his name,—it is the Van Dyck costume. We have ample
+exposition of it, for his portraits are many. It is told that he
+painted forty portraits of the king and thirty of the queen, and many
+of the royal children. There are nine portraits by his hand of the Earl
+of Strafford, the king’s friend. He painted the Earl of Arundel seven
+times. Venetia, Lady Digby, had four portraits in one year. He painted
+all persons of fashion, many of distinction and dignity, and some with
+no special reason for consideration or portrayal.
+
+The Van Dyck dress is a gallant dress, one fitted for a court, not for
+everyday life, nor for a strenuous life, though men of such aims wore
+it. The absurdity of Elizabeth’s day is lacking; the richness remains.
+It is a dress distinctly expressive of dignity. The doublet is of some
+rich, silken stuff, usually satin or velvet. The sleeves are loose and
+graceful; at one time they were slashed liberally to show the fine,
+full, linen shirt-sleeve. Here are a number of slashed sleeves, from
+portraits of the day, painted by Van Dyck. The cuffs of the doublet are
+often turned back deeply to show embroidered shirt cuffs or lace
+ruffles, or even linen undersleeves. The collar of the doublet was
+wholly covered with a band or collar of rich lace and lawn, or all
+lace; this usually with the pointed edges now termed Vandykes. Band
+strings of ribbon or “snake-bone” were worn. These often had jewelled
+tassels. Rich tassels of pearl were the favorite. A short cloak was
+thrown gracefully on one shoulder or hung at the back. Knee-breeches
+edged with points or fringes or ribbons met the tops of wide, high
+boots of Spanish leather, which often also turned over with ruffles of
+leather or lace. Within-doors silken hose and shoes with rich
+shoe-roses of lace or ribbon were worn. A great hat, broad-leafed,
+often of Flemish beaver, had a splendid feather and jewelled hatband. A
+rich sword-belt and gauntleted and fringed gloves were added. A peaked
+beard with small upturned mustache formed a triangle, with the mouth in
+the centre, as in the portrait of General Waller. The hair curled
+loosely in the neck, and was rarely, I think, powdered.
+
+
+Slashed Sleeves Slashed Sleeves, _temp_. Charles I.
+
+Other great painters besides Van Dyck were fortunately in England at
+the time this dress was worn, and the king was a patron and appreciator
+of art. Hence they were encouraged in their work; and every form and
+detail of this beautiful costume is fully depicted for us.
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS
+
+
+_“Nowe my deare hearte let me parlye a little with thee about trifles,
+for when I am present with thee, my speeche is preiudiced by thy
+presence which drawes my mind from itselfe; I suppose now, upon thy
+unkles cominge there wilbe advisinge &; counsellinge of all hands; and
+amongst many I know there wilbe some, that wilbe provokinge thee, in
+these indifferent things, as matter of apparell, fashions and other
+circumstances; I hould it a rule of Christian wisdome in all things to
+follow the soberest examples; I confesse that there be some ornaments
+which for Virgins and Knights Daughters &;c may be comly and
+tollerrable which yet in soe great a change as thine is, may well
+admitt a change allso; I will medle with noe particulars neither doe I
+thinke it shall be needfull; thine own wisdome and godliness shall
+teach thee sufficiently what to doe in such things. I knowe thou wilt
+not grieve me for trifles. Let me intreate thee (my sweet Love) to take
+all in good part.”_
+
+—JOHN WINTHROP TO MARGARET TYNDALE, 1616.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS
+
+
+I
+
+
+have expressed a doubt that the dress of Cavalier and Puritan varied as
+much as has been popularly believed; I feel sure that the dress of
+Puritan women did not differ from the attire of women of quiet life who
+remained in the Church of England; nor did it vary materially either in
+form or quality from the attire of the sensible followers of court
+life. It simply did not extend to the extreme of the mode in gay color,
+extravagance, or grotesqueness. In the first severity of revolt over
+the dissoluteness of English life which had shown so plainly in the
+extravagance and absurdity of English court dress, many persons of deep
+thought (especially men), both of the Church of England and of the
+Puritan faith, expressed their feeling by a change in their dress.
+Doubtless also in some the extremity of feeling extended to fanaticism.
+It is always thus in reforms; the slow start becomes suddenly a violent
+rush which needs to be retarded and moderated, and it always is
+moderated. I have referred to one exhibition of bigotry in regard to
+dress which is found in the annals of Puritanism; it is detailed in the
+censure and attempt at restraint of the dress of Madam Johnson, the
+wife of the Rev. Francis Johnson, the pastor of the exiles to Holland.
+
+There is a tradition that Parson Johnson was one of the Marprelate
+brotherhood, who certainly deserved the imprisonment they received,
+were it only for their ill-spelling and ill-use of their native tongue.
+The Marprelate pamphlet before me as I write had an author who could
+not even spell the titles of the prelates it assailed; but called them
+“parsones, fyckers and currats,” the latter two names being intended
+for vicars and curates. The story of Madam Johnson’s revolt, and her
+triumph, is preserved to us in such real and earnest language, and was
+such a vital thing to the actors in the little play, that it seems
+almost irreverent to regard it as a farce, yet none to-day could read
+of it without a sense of absurdity, and we may as well laugh frankly
+and freely at the episode.
+
+When the protagonist of this Puritan comedy entered the stage, she was
+a widow—Tomison or Thomasine Boyes, a “warm” widow, as the saying of
+the day ran, that is, warm with a comfortable legacy of ready money.
+She was a young widow, and she was handsome. At any rate, it was
+brought up against her when events came to a climax; it was testified
+in the church examination or trial that “men called her a bouncing
+girl,” as if she could help that! Husband Boyes had been a haberdasher,
+and I fancy she got both her finery and her love of finery in his shop.
+And it was told with all the petty terms of scandal-mongering that
+might be heard in a small shop in a small English town to-day; it was
+told very gravely that the “clarkes in the shop” compared her for her
+pride in apparel to the wife of the Bishop of London, and it was
+affirmed that she stood “gazing, braving, and vaunting in shop doores.”
+
+Now this special complaint against the Widow Boyes, that she stood
+braving and vaunting in shop doors, was not a far-fetched attack
+brought as a novelty of tantalizing annoyance; it touches in her what
+was one of the light carriages of the day, which were so detestable to
+sober and thoughtful folk, an odious custom specified by Stubbes in his
+_Anatomy of Abuses_. He writes thus of London women, the wives of
+merchants:—
+
+
+“Othersome spend the greater part of the daie in sittyng at the doore,
+to shewe their braveries, to make knowen their beauties, to behold the
+passers by; to view the coast, to see fashions, and to acquaint
+themselves of the bravest fellows—for, if not for these causes, I know
+no other causes why they should sitt at their doores—as many doe from
+Morning till Noon, from Noon till Night.”
+
+
+Other writers give other reasons for this “vaunting.” We learn that
+“merchants’ wives had seats built a purpose” to sit in, in order to
+lure customers. Marston in _The Dutch Courtesan_ says:—
+
+
+“His wife’s a proper woman—that she is! She has been as proper a woman
+as any in the Chepe. She paints now, and yet she keeps her husband’s
+old customers to him still. In troth, a fine-fac’d wife in a
+wainscot-carved seat, is a worthy ornament to any tradesman’s shop. And
+an attractive one I’le warrant.”
+
+
+This handsome, buxom, bouncing widow fell in love with Pastor Johnson,
+and he with her, while he was “a prisoner in the Clink,” he having been
+thrown therein by the Archbishop of Canterbury for his persistent
+preaching of Puritanism. Many of his friends “thought this not a good
+match” for him at any time; and all deemed it ill advised for a man in
+prison to pledge himself in matrimony to any one. And soon zealous and
+meddlesome Brother George Johnson took a hand in advice and counsel,
+with as high a hand as if Francis had been a child instead of a man of
+thirty-two, and a man of experience as well, and likewise older than
+George.
+
+George at first opened warily, saying in his letters that “he was very
+loth to contrary his brother;” still Brother Francis must be sensible
+that this widow was noted for her pride and vanity, her light and
+garish dress, and that it would give great offence to all Puritans if
+he married her, and “it (the vanity and extravagance, etc.) should not
+be refrained.” There was then some apparent concession and yielding on
+the widow’s part, for George for a time “sett down satysfyed”; when
+suddenly, to his “great grief” and discomfiture, he found that his
+brother had been “inveigled and overcarried,” and the sly twain had
+been married secretly in prison.
+
+It must be remembered that this was in the last years of Elizabeth’s
+reign, in 1596, when the laws were rigid in attempts at limitation of
+dress, as I shall note later in this chapter. But there were certain
+privileges of large estate, even if the owner were of mean birth; and
+Madam Johnson certainly had money enough to warrant her costly apparel,
+and in ready cash also, from Husband Boyes. But in the first good
+temper and general good will of the honeymoon she “obeyed”; she
+promised to dress as became her husband’s condition, which would
+naturally mean much simpler attire. He was soon in very bad case for
+having married without permission of the archbishop, and was still more
+closely confined within-walls; but even while he lingered in prison,
+Brother George saw with anguish that the bride’s short obedience had
+ended. She appeared in “more garish and proud apparell” than he had
+ever before seen upon the widow,—naturally enough for a bride,—even the
+bride of a bridegroom in prison; but he “dealt with her that she would
+refrain”—poor, simple man! She dallied on, tantalizing him and daring
+him, and she was very “bold in inviting proof,” but never quitting her
+bridal finery for one moment; so George read to her with emphasis, as a
+final and unconquerable weapon, that favorite wail of all men who would
+check or reprove an extravagant woman, namely, Isaiah iii, 16 _et
+seq_., the chapter called by Mercy Warren
+
+“... An antiquated page
+That taught us the threatenings of an Hebrew sage
+Gainst wimples, mantles, curls and crisping pins.”
+
+
+I wonder how many Puritan parsons have preached fatuously upon those
+verses! how many defiant women have had them read to them—and how many
+meek ones! I knew a deacon’s wife in Worcester, some years ago, who
+asked for a new pair of India-rubber overshoes, and in pious response
+her frugal partner slapped open the great Bible at this favorite third
+chapter of the lamenting and threatening prophet, and roared out to his
+poor little wife, sitting meekly before him in calico gown and checked
+apron, the lesson of the haughty daughters of Zion walking with
+stretched-forth necks and tinkling feet; of their chains and bracelets
+and mufflers; their bonnets and rings and rich jewels; their mantles
+and wimples and crisping-pins; their fair hoods and veils—oh, how she
+must have longed for an Oriental husband!
+
+Petulant with his new sister-in-law’s successful evasions of his
+readings, his letters, and his advice, his instructions, his pleadings,
+his commands, and “full of sauce and zeal” like Elnathan, George
+Johnson, in emulation of the prophet Isaiah, made a list of the
+offences of this London “daughter of Zion,” wrote them out, and
+presented them to the congregation. She wore “3, 4, or even 5 gold
+rings at one time” Then likewise “her Busks and ye Whalebones at her
+Brest were soe manifest that many of ye Saints were greeved thereby.”
+She was asked to “pull off her Excessive Deal of Lace.” And she was
+fairly implored to “exchange ye Schowish Hatt for a sober Taffety or
+Felt.” She was ordered severely “to discontinue Whalebones,” and to
+“quit ye great starcht Ruffs, ye Muske, and ye Rings.” And not to wear
+her bodice tied to her petticoat “as men do their doublets to their
+hose contrary to I Thessalonians, V, 22.” And a certain stomacher or
+neckerchief he plainly called “abominable and loathsome.” A “schowish
+Velvet Hood,” such as only “the richest, finest and proudest sort
+should use,” was likewise beyond endurance, almost beyond forgiveness,
+and other “gawrish gear gave him grave greevance.”
+
+
+Mrs. William Clark. Mrs. William Clark.
+
+But here the young husband interfered, as it was high time he should;
+and he called his brother “fantasticall, fond, ignorant,
+anabaptisticall and such like,” though what the poor Anabaptists had to
+do with such dress quarrels I know not. George’s cautious reference in
+his letter to the third verse of the third chapter of Jeremiah made the
+parson call it “the Abhominablest Letter ever was written.” George, a
+bit frightened, answered pacificatorily that he noted of late that “the
+excessive lace upon the sleeve of her dress had a Cover drawn upon it;”
+that the stomacher was not “so gawrish, so low, and so spitz-fashioned
+as it was wont to be”; nor was her hat “so topishly set,”—and he
+expressed pious gladness at the happy change, “hoping more would
+follow,”—and for a time all did seem subdued. But soon another
+meddlesome young man became “greeved” (did ever any one hear of such a
+set of silly, grieving fellows?); and seeing “how heavily the young
+gentleman took it,” stupid George must interfere again, to be met this
+time very boldly by the bouncing girl herself, who, he writes sadly,
+answered him in a tone “very peert and coppet.” “Coppet” is a
+delightful old word which all our dictionaries have missed; it
+signifies impudent, saucy, or, to be precise, “sassy,” which we all
+know has a shade more of meaning. “Peert and coppet” is a delightful
+characterization. George refused to give the sad young complainer’s
+name, who must have been well ashamed of himself by this time, and was
+then reproached with being a “forestaller,” a “picker,” and a
+“quarrelous meddler”—and with truth.
+
+During the action of this farce, all had gone from London into exile in
+Holland. Then came the sudden trip to Newfoundland and the disastrous
+and speedy return to Holland again. And through the misfortunes and the
+exiles, the company drew more closely together, and gentle words
+prevailed; George was “sorie if he had overcarried himself”; Madam “was
+sure if it were to do now, she would not so wear it.” Still, she did
+not offer her martinet of a brother-in-law a room to lodge in in her
+house, though she had many rooms unused, and he needed shelter, whereat
+he whimpered much; and soon he was charging her again “with Muske as a
+sin” (musk was at that time in the very height of fashion in France)
+and cavilling at her unbearable “topish hat.” Then came long argument
+and sparring for months over “topishness,” which seems to have been
+deemed a most offensive term. They told its nature and being; they
+brought in Greek derivatives, and the pastor produced a syllogism upon
+the word. And they declared that the hat in itself was not topish, but
+only became so when she wore it, she being the wife of a preacher; and
+they disputed over velvet and vanity; they bickered over topishness and
+lightness; they wrangled about lawn coives and busks in a way that was
+sad to read. The pastor argued soundly, logically, that both coives and
+busks might be lawfully used; whereat one of his flock, Christopher
+Dickens, rose up promptly in dire fright and dread of future
+extravagance among the women-saints in the line of topish hats and
+coives and busks, and he “begged them not to speak so, and _so loud_,
+lest it should bring _many inconveniences among their wives_.” Finally
+the topish head-gear was demanded in court, which the parson declared
+was “offensive”; and so they bickered on till a most unseemly hour,
+till _ten o’clock at night_, as “was proved by the watchman and
+rattleman coming about.” Naturally they wished to go to bed at an early
+hour, for religious services began at nine; one of the complaints
+against the topish bride was that she was a “slug-a-bed,” flippantly
+refused to rise and have her house ordered and ready for the nine
+o’clock public service. The meetings were then held in the parson’s
+house, and held every day; which may have been one reason why the
+settlement grew poorer. It matters little what was said, or how it
+ended, since it did not disrupt and disband the Holland Pilgrims. For
+eleven years this stupid wrangling lasted; and it seemed imminent that
+the settlement would finish with a separation, and a return of many to
+England. Slight events have great power—this topish hat of a vain and
+pretty, a peert and coppet young Puritan bride came near to hindering
+and changing the colonization of America.
+
+
+Lady Mary Armine. Lady Mary Armine.
+
+I have related this episode at some length because its recounting makes
+us enter into the spirit of the first Separatist settlers. It shows us
+too that dress conquered zeal; it could not be “forborne” by entreaty,
+by reproof, by discipline, by threats, by example. An influence, or
+perhaps I should term it an echo, of this long quarrel is seen plainly
+by the thoughtful mind in the sumptuary laws of the New World. Some of
+the articles of dress so dreaded, so discussed in Holland, still
+threatened the peace of Puritanical husbands in New England; they still
+dreaded many inconveniences. In 1634, the general court of
+Massachusetts issued this edict:—
+
+
+“That no person, man or woman, shall hereafter make or buy any
+Apparell, either Woolen, or Silk, or Linen, with any Lace on it,
+Silver, Gold, or Thread, under the penalty of forfeiture of said
+clothes. Also that no person either man or woman, shall make or buy any
+Slashed Clothes, other than one Slash in each Sleeve and another in the
+Back. Also all Cut-works, embroideries, or Needlework Caps, Bands or
+Rails, are forbidden hereafter to be made and worn under the aforesaid
+Penalty; also all gold or silver Girdles Hat bands, Belts, Ruffs,
+Beaver hats are prohibited to be bought and worn hereafter.”
+
+
+Fines were stated, also the amount of estate which released the
+dress-wearer from restriction. Liberty was given to all to wear out the
+apparel which they had on hand except “immoderate great sleeves,
+slashed apparell, immoderate great rails, and long wings”—these being
+beyond endurance.
+
+In 1639 “immoderate great breeches, knots of riban, broad shoulder
+bands and rayles, silk roses, double ruffles and capes” were forbidden
+to folk of low estate. Soon the court expressed its “utter detestation
+and dislike,” that men and women of “mean condition, education and
+calling” should take upon themselves “the garb of gentlemen” by wearing
+gold and silver lace, buttons and points at the knee, or “walk in great
+boots,” or women of the same low rank to wear silk or tiffany hoods or
+scarfs. There were likewise orders that no short sleeves should be worn
+“whereby the nakedness of the arms may be discovered”; women’s sleeves
+were not to be more than half an ell wide; long hair and immodest
+laying out of the hair and wearing borders of hair were abhorrent. Poor
+folk must not appear with “naked breasts and arms; or as it were
+pinioned with superstitious ribbons on hair and apparell.” Tailors who
+made garments for servants or children, richer than the garments of the
+parents or masters of these juniors, were to be fined. Similar laws
+were passed in Connecticut and Virginia. I know of no one being
+“psented” under these laws in Virginia, but in Connecticut and
+Massachusetts both men and women were fined. In 1676, in Northampton,
+thirty-six young women at one time were brought up for overdress
+chiefly in hoods; and an amusing entry in the court record is that one
+of them, Hannah Lyman, appeared in the very hood for which she was
+fined; and was thereupon censured for “wearing silk in a fflonting
+manner, in an offensive way, not only before but when she stood
+Psented. Not only in Ordinary but Extraordinary times.” These girls
+were all fined; but six years later, when a stern magistrate attempted
+a similar persecution, the indictments were quashed.
+
+
+The Tub-preacher. The Tub-preacher.
+
+It is not unusual to find the careless observer or the superficial
+reader—and writer—commenting upon the sumptuary laws of the New World
+as if they were extraordinary and peculiar. There appeared in a recent
+American magazine a long rehearsal of the unheard-of presumption of
+Puritan magistrates in their prohibition of certain articles of dress.
+This writer was evidently wholly ignorant of the existence of similar
+laws in England, and even of like laws in Virginia, but railed against
+Winthrop and Endicott as monsters of Puritanical arrogance and
+impudence.
+
+In truth, however, such laws had existed not only in France and
+England, but since the days of the old Locrian legislation, when it was
+ordered that no woman should go attended with more than one maid in the
+street “unless she were drunk.” Ancient Rome and Sparta were surrounded
+by dress restrictions which were broken just as were similar ones in
+more modern times. The Roman could wear a robe but of a single color;
+he could wear in embroideries not more than half an ounce of gold; and,
+with what seems churlishness he was forbidden to ride in a carriage. At
+that time, just as in later days, dress was made to emphasize class
+distinction, and the clergy joined with the magistrates in denouncing
+extravagant dress in both men and women. The chronicles of the monks
+are ever chiding men for their peaked shoes, deep sleeves and curled
+locks like women, and Savonarola outdid them all in severity. The
+English kings and queens, jealous of the rich dress of their opulent
+subjects, multiplied restrictions, and some very curious anecdotes
+exist of the calm assumption by both Elizabeth and Mary to their own
+wardrobe of the rich finery of some lady at the court who displayed
+some new and too becoming fancy.
+
+
+Old Venice Point Lace. Old Venice Point Lace.
+
+Adam Smith declared it “an act of highest impertinence and presumption
+for kings and rulers to pretend to watch over the earnings and
+expenditure of private persons,” nevertheless this public interference
+lingered long, especially under monarchies.
+
+These sumptuary laws of New England followed in spirit and letter
+similar laws in England. Winthrop had seen the many apprentices who ran
+through London streets, dressed under laws as full of details of dress
+as is a modern journal of the modes. For instance, the apprentice’s
+head-covering must be a small, flat, round cap, called often a bonnet—a
+hat like a pie-dish. The facing of the hat could not exceed three
+inches in breadth in the head; nor could the hat with band and facing
+cost over five shillings. His band or collar could have no lace edge;
+it must be of linen not over five shillings an ell in price; and could
+have no other work or ornament save “a plain hem and one stitch”—which
+was a hemstitch. If he wore a ruff, it must not be over three inches
+wide before it was gathered and set into the “stock.” The collar of his
+doublet could have neither “point, well-bone or plait,” but must be
+made “close and comely.” The stuff of his doublet and breeches could
+not cost over two shillings and sixpence a yard. It could be either
+cloth, kersey, fustian, sackcloth, canvas, or “English stuff”; or
+leather could be used. The breeches were generally of the shape known
+as “round slops.” His stockings could be knit or of cloth; but his
+shoes could have no polonia heels. His hair was to be cut close, with
+no “tuft or lock.”
+
+Queen Elizabeth stood no nonsense in these things; finding that London
+’prentices had adopted a certain white stitching for their collars, she
+put a stop to this mild finery by ordering the first transgressor to be
+whipped publicly in the hall of his company. These same laws, tinkered
+and altered to suit occasions, appear for many years in English
+records, for years after New England’s sumptuary laws were silenced.
+
+Notwithstanding Hannah Lyman and the thirty-six vain Northampton girls,
+we do not on the whole hear great complaint of extravagance in dress or
+deportment. At any rate none were called bouncing girls. The portraits
+of men or women certainly show no restraint as to richness in dress.
+Their sumptuary laws were of less use to their day than to ours, for
+they do reveal to us what articles of dress our forbears wore.
+
+While the Massachusetts magistrates were fussing a little over woman’s
+dress, the parsons, as a whole, were remarkably silent. Of course two
+or three of them could not refrain from announcing a text from Isaiah
+iii, 16 _et seq_., and enlarging upon the well-worn wimples and nose
+jewels, and bells on their feet, which were as much out of fashion in
+Massachusetts then as now. It is such a well-rounded, ringing, colorful
+arraignment of woman’s follies you couldn’t expect a parson to give it
+up. Every evil predicted of the prophet was laid at the door of these
+demure Puritan dames,—fire and war, and caterpillars, and even
+baldness, which last was really unjust. Solomon Stoddard preached on
+the “Intolerable Pride in the Plantations in Clothes and Hair,” that
+his parishioners “drew iniquity with a cord of vanity and sin with a
+cart-rope.” The apostle Paul also furnished ample texts for the Puritan
+preacher.
+
+
+Rebecca Rawson. Rebecca Rawson.
+
+In the eleventh chapter of Corinthians wise Paul delivered some
+sentences of exhortation, of reproof, of warning to Corinthian women
+which I presume he understood and perhaps Corinthian dames did, but
+which have been a dire puzzle since to parsons and male members of
+their congregations. (I cannot think that women ever bothered much
+about his words.) For instance, Archbishop Latimer, in one of the
+cheerful, slangy rallies to his hearers which he called sermons, quotes
+Paul’s sentence that a woman ought to have a power on her head, and
+construes positively that a power is a French hood. This is certainly a
+somewhat surprising notion, but I presume he knew. However, Roger
+Williams deemed a power a veil; and being somewhat dictatorial in his
+words, albeit the tenderest of creatures in his heart, he bade Salem
+women come to meeting in a veil, telling them they should come like
+Sarah of old, wearing this veil as a token of submission to their
+husbands. The text saith this exactly, “A woman ought to have power on
+her head because of the angels,” which seems to me one of those
+convenient sayings of Paul and others which can be twisted to many, to
+any meanings, even to Latimer’s French hood. Old John Cotton, of
+course, found ample Scripture to prove Salem women should not wear
+veils, and so here in this New World, as in the Holland sojourn, the
+head-covering of the mothers rent in twain the meetings of the fathers,
+while the women wore veils or no veils, French hoods or beaver hats, in
+despite of Paul’s opinions and their husbands’ constructions of his
+opinions.
+
+An excellent description of the Puritan women of a dissenting
+congregation is in _Hudibras Redivivus;_ it reads:—
+
+“The good old dames among the rest
+Were all most primitively drest
+In stiffen-bodyed russet gowns
+And on their heads old steeple crowns
+With pristine pinners next their faces
+Edged round with ancient scallop-laces,
+Such as, my antiquary says,
+Were worn in old Queen Bess’s days,
+In ruffs; and fifty other ways
+Their wrinkled necks were covered o’er
+With whisks of lawn by granmarms wore.”
+
+
+The “old steeple crowns” over “pristine pinners” were not peculiar to
+the Puritans. There was a time, in the first years of the seventeenth
+century, when many Englishwomen wore steeple-crowned hats with costly
+hatbands. We find them in pictures of women of the court, as well as
+upon the heads of Puritans. I have a dozen prints and portraits of
+Englishwomen in rich dress with these hats. The Quaker Tub-preacher,
+shown here, wears one. Perhaps the best known example to Americans may
+be seen in the portrait of Pocahontas here.
+
+Authentic portraits of American women who came in the _Mayflower_ or in
+the first ships to the Massachusetts Bay settlement, there are none to
+my knowledge. Some exist which are doubtless of that day, but cannot be
+certified. One preserved in Connecticut in the family of Governor Eaton
+shows a brown old canvas like a Rembrandt. The subject is believed to
+be of the Yale family, and the chief and most distinct feature of dress
+is the ruff.
+
+It was a time of change both of men’s and women’s neckwear. A few older
+women clung to the ruffs of their youth; younger women wore bands,
+falling-bands, falls, rebatoes, falling-whisks and whisks, the “fifty
+other ways” which could be counted everywhere. Carlyle says:—
+
+
+“There are various traceable small threads of relation, interesting
+reciprocities and mutabilities connecting the poor young Infant, New
+England, with its old Puritan mother and her affairs, which ought to be
+disentangled, to be made conspicuous by the Infant herself now she has
+grown big.”
+
+
+These traceable threads of relation are ever of romantic interest to
+me, and even when I refer to the dress of English folk I linger with
+pleasure with those whose lives were connected even by the smallest
+thread with the Infant, New England. One such thread of connection was
+in the life of Lady Mary Armine; so I choose to give her picture here,
+to illustrate the dress, if not of a New Englander, yet of one of New
+England’s closest friends. She was a noble, high-minded English
+gentlewoman, who gave “even to her dying day” to the conversion of poor
+tawny heathen of New England. A churchwoman by open profession, she was
+a Puritan in her sympathies, as were many of England’s best hearts and
+souls who never left the Church of England. She gave in one gift £500
+to families of ministers who had been driven from their pulpits in
+England. The Nipmuck schools at Natick and Hassamanesit (near Grafton)
+were founded under her patronage. The life of this “Truly Honourable,
+Very Aged and Singularly Pious Lady who dyed 1675,” was written as a
+“pattern to Ladies.” Her long prosy epitaph, after enumerating the
+virtues of many of the name of Mary, concludes thus:—
+
+“The Army of such Ladies so Divine
+This Lady said ‘I’ll follow, they Ar-mine.’
+Lady Elect! in whom there did combine
+So many Maries, might well say All Ar-mine.”
+
+
+A pun was a Puritan’s one jocularity; and he would pun even in an
+epitaph.
+
+It will be seen that Lady Mary Armine wears the straight collar or
+band, and the black French hood which was the forerunner, then the
+rival, and at last the survivor of the “sugar-loaf” beaver or felt
+hat,—a hood with a history, which will have a chapter for the telling
+thereof. Lady Mary wears a peaked widow’s cap under her hood; this also
+is a detail of much interest.
+
+Another portrait of this date is of Mrs. Clark (see here). This has two
+singular details; namely, a thumb-ring, which was frequently owned but
+infrequently painted, and a singular bracelet, which is accurately
+described in the verse of Herrick, written at that date:—
+
+“I saw about her spotless wrist
+Of blackest silk a curious twist
+Which circumvolving gently there
+Enthralled her arm as prisoner.”
+
+
+I may say in passing that I have seen in portraits knots of narrow
+ribbon on the wrists, both of men and women, and I am sure they had
+some mourning significance, as did the knot of black on the left arm of
+the queen of King James of England.
+
+We have in the portrait shown as a frontispiece an excellent
+presentment of the dress of the Puritan woman of refinement; the dress
+worn by the wives of Winthrop, Endicott, Leverett, Dudley, Saltonstall,
+and other gentlemen of Salem and Boston and Plymouth. We have also the
+dress worn by her little child about a year old. This portrait is of
+Madam Padishal. She was a Plymouth woman; and we know from the
+inventories of estates that there were not so many richly dressed women
+in Plymouth as in Boston and Salem. This dress of Madam Padishal’s is
+certainly much richer than the ordinary attire of Plymouth dames of
+that generation.
+
+This portrait has been preserved in Plymouth in the family of Judge
+Thomas, from whom it descended to the present owner. Madam Padishal was
+young and handsome when this portrait was painted. Her black velvet
+gown is shaped just like the gown of Madam Rawson (shown here), of
+Madam Stoddard (shown here), both Boston women; and of the English
+ladies of her times. It is much richer than that of Lady Mary Armine or
+Mrs. Clark.
+
+The gown of Madam Padishal is varied pleasingly from that of Lady Mary
+Armine, in that the body is low-necked, and the lace whisk is worn over
+the bare neck. The pearl necklace and ear-rings likewise show a more
+frivolous spirit than that of the English dame.
+
+Another Plymouth portrait of very rich dress, that of Elizabeth Paddy,
+Mrs. John Wensley, faces this page. The dress in this is a golden-brown
+brocade under-petticoat and satin overdress. The stiff, busked stays
+are equal to Queen Elizabeth’s. Revers at the edge of overdress and on
+the virago sleeves are now of flame color, a Spanish pink, but were
+originally scarlet, I am sure. The narrow stomacher is a beaded galloon
+with bright spangles and bugles. On the hair there shows above the ears
+a curious ornament which resembles a band of this galloon. There are
+traces of a similar ornament in Madam Rawson’s portrait (here); and
+Madam Stoddard’s (here) has some ornament over the ears. This may have
+been a modification of a contemporary Dutch head-jewel. The pattern of
+the lace of Elizabeth Paddy’s whisk is most distinct; it was a good
+costly Flemish parchment lace like Mrs. Padishal’s. She carries a fan,
+and wears rings, a pearl necklace, and ear-rings. I may say here that I
+have never seen other jewels than these,—a few rings, and necklace and
+ear-rings of pearl. Other necklaces seem never to have been worn.
+
+
+Elizabeth Paddy Wensley. Elizabeth Paddy Wensley.
+
+We cannot always trust that all the jewels seen in these portraits were
+real, or that the sitter owned as many as represented. A bill is in
+existence where a painter charged ten shillings extra for bestowing a
+gold and pearl necklace upon his complaisant subject. In this case,
+however, the extra charge was to pay for the gold paint or gold-leaf
+used for gilding the painted necklace. In the amusing letters of Lady
+Sussex to Lord Verney are many relating to her portrait by Van Dyck.
+She consented to the painting very unwillingly, saying, “it is money
+ill bestowed.” She writes:—
+
+
+“Put Sr Vandyke in remembrance to do my pictuer well. I have seen
+sables with the clasp of them set with diamonds—if those I am pictured
+in were done so, I think it would look very well in the pictuer. If Sr
+Vandyke thinks it would do well I pray desier him to do all the clawes
+so. I do not mene the end of the tales but only the end of the other
+peces, they call them clawes I think.”
+
+
+This gives a glimpse of a richness of detail in dress even beyond our
+own day, and one which I commend to some New York dame of vast wealth,
+to have the claws of her sables set with diamonds. She writes later in
+two letters of some weeks’ difference in date:—
+
+
+“I am glad you have prefalede with Sr Vandyke to make my pictuer
+leaner, for truly it was too fat. If he made it farer it will bee to my
+credit. I am glad you have made Sr Vandyke mind my dress.” ...
+
+
+“I am glad you have got home my pictuer, but I doubt he has made it
+lener or farer, but too rich in jewels, I am sure; but ’tis no great
+matter for another age to thinke mee richer than I was. I wish it could
+be mended in the face for sure ’tis very ugly. The pictuer is very
+ill-favourede, makes me quite out of love with myselfe, the face is so
+bigg and so fat it pleases mee not at all. It looks like one of the
+Windes puffinge—(but truly I think it is lyke the original).”
+
+
+I am struck by a likeness in workmanship in the portraits of these two
+Plymouth dames, and the portrait of Madam Stoddard (here), and
+succeeding illustrations of the Gibbes children. I do wish I knew
+whether these were painted by Tom Child—a painter-stainer and limner
+referred to by Judge Samuel Sewall in his Diary, who was living in
+Boston at that time. Perhaps we may find something, some day, to tell
+us this. I feel sure these were all painted in America, especially the
+portraits of the Gibbes children. A great many coats-of-arms were made
+in Boston at this time, and I expect the painter-stainer made them. All
+painting then was called coloring. A man would say in 1700, “Archer has
+set us a fine example of expense; he has colored his house, and has
+even laid one room in oils; he had the painter-stainer from Boston to
+do it—the man who limns faces, and does pieces, and tricks coats.” This
+was absolutely correct English, but we would hardly know that the man
+meant: “Archer has been extravagant enough; he has painted his house,
+and even painted the woodwork of one room. He had the artist from
+Boston to do the work—the painter of faces and full-lengths, who makes
+coats-of-arms.”
+
+It is hard to associate the very melancholy countenance shown here with
+a tradition of youth and beauty. Had the portrait been painted after a
+romance of sorrow came to this young maid, Rebecca Rawson, we could
+understand her expression; but it was painted when she was young and
+beautiful, so beautiful that she caught the eye and the wandering
+affections of a wandering gentleman, who announced himself as the son
+of one nobleman and kinsman of many others, and persuaded this daughter
+of Secretary Edward Rawson to marry him, which she did in the presence
+of forty witnesses. This young married pair then went to London, where
+the husband deserted Rebecca, who found to her horror that she was not
+his wife, as he had at least one English wife living. Alone and proud,
+Rebecca Rawson supported herself and her child by painting on glass;
+and when at last she set out to return to her childhood’s home, her
+life was lost at sea by shipwreck.
+
+The portrait of another Boston woman of distinction, Mrs. Simeon
+Stoddard, is given here. I will attempt to explain who Mrs. Simeon
+Stoddard was. She was Mr. Stoddard’s third widow and the third widow
+also of Peter Sergeant, builder of the Province House. Mr. Sergeant’s
+second wife had been married twice before she married him, and Simeon
+Stoddard’s father had four wives, all having been widows when he
+married them. Lastly, our Mrs. Simeon Stoddard, triumphing over death
+and this gallimaufry of Boston widows, took a fourth husband, the
+richest merchant in town, Samuel Shrimpton. Having had in all four
+husbands of wealth, and with them and their accumulation of widows
+there must have been as a widow’s mite an immense increment and
+inheritance of clothing (for clothing we know was a valued bequest), it
+is natural that we find her very richly dressed and with a distinctly
+haughty look upon her handsome face as becomes a conqueror both of men
+and widows.
+
+The straight, lace collar, such as is worn by Madam Padishal and shown
+in all portraits of this date, is, I believe, a whisk.
+
+The whisk was a very interesting and to us a puzzling article of
+attire, through the lack of precise description. It was at first called
+the falling-whisk, and is believed to have been simply the handsome,
+lace-edged, stiff, standing collar turned down over the shoulders. This
+collar had been both worn with the ruff and worn after it, and had been
+called a fall. Quicherat tells that the “whisk” came into universal use
+in 1644, when very low-necked gowns were worn, and that it was simply a
+kerchief or fichu to cover the neck.
+
+We have a few side-lights to help us, as to the shape of the whisk, in
+the form of advertisements of lost whisks. In one case (1662) it is “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 a
+strap hanging down before.” And in 1664 “A Tiffany Whisk with a great
+Lace down and a little one up, of large Flowers, and open work; with a
+Roul for the Head and Peak.” The roll and peak were part of a cap.
+
+
+Mrs. Simeon Stoddard. Mrs. Simeon Stoddard.
+
+These portraits show whisks in slightly varying forms. We have the
+“broad Lace lying down” in the handsome band at the shoulder; the
+“little lace standing up” was a narrow lace edging the whisk at the
+throat or just above the broad lace. Sometimes the whisk was wholly of
+mull or lawn. The whisk was at first wholly a part of woman’s attire,
+then for a time it was worn, in modified form, by men.
+
+Madam Pepys had a white whisk in 1660 and then a “noble lace whisk.”
+The same year she bought hers in London, Governor Berkeley paid half a
+pound for a tiffany whisk in Virginia. Many American women, probably
+all well-dressed women, had them. They are also seen on French
+portraits of the day. One of Madam de Maintenon shows precisely the
+same whisk as this of Madam Padishal’s, tied in front with tiny knots
+of ribbon.
+
+It will be noted that Madam Padishal has black lace frills about the
+upper portion of the sleeve, at the arm-scye. English portraits
+previous to the year 1660 seldom show black lace, and portraits are not
+many of the succeeding forty years which have black lace, so in this
+American portrait this detail is unusual. The wearing of black lace
+came into a short popularity in the year 1660, through compliment to
+the Spanish court upon the marriage of the young French king, Louis
+XIV, with the Infanta. The English court followed promptly. Pepys
+gloried in “our Mistress Stewart in black and white lace.” It interests
+me to see how quickly American women had the very latest court fashions
+and wore them even in uncourtlike America; such distinct novelties as
+black lace. Contemporary descriptions of dress are silent as to it by
+the year 1700, and it disappears from portraits until a century later,
+when we have pretty black lace collars, capes and fichus, as may be
+seen on the portraits of Mrs. Sedgwick, Mrs. Waldo, and others later in
+this book. These first black laces of 1660 are Bayeux laces, which are
+precisely like our Chantilly laces of to-day. This ancient piece of
+black lace has been carefully preserved in an old New York family. A
+portrait of the year 1690 has a black lace frill like the Maltese laces
+of to-day, with the same guipure pattern. But such laces were not made
+in Malta until after 1833. So it must have been a guipure lace of the
+kind known in England as parchment lace. This was made in the environs
+of Paris, but was seldom black, so this was a rare bit. It was
+sometimes made of gold and silver thread. Parchment lace was a favorite
+lace of Mary, Queen of Scots, and through her good offices was peddled
+in England by French lace-makers. The black moiré hoods of Italian
+women sometimes had a narrow edge of black lace, and a little was
+brought to England on French hoods, but as a whole black lace was
+seldom seen or known.
+
+
+Ancient Black Lace. Ancient Black Lace.
+
+An evidence of the widespread extent of fashions even in that day, a
+proof that English and French women and American women (when American
+women there were other than the native squaws) all dressed alike, is
+found in comparing portraits. An interesting one from the James Jackson
+Jarvis Collection is now in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. It is of an
+unknown woman and by an unknown artist, and is simply labelled “Of the
+School of Susteman.” But this unknown Frenchwoman has a dress as
+precisely like Madam Padishal’s and Madam Stoddard’s as are Doucet’s
+models of to-day like each other. All have the whisk of rich
+straight-edged lace, and the tiny knots of velvet ribbon. All have the
+sleeve knots, but the French portrait is gay in narrow red and buff
+ribbon.
+
+Doubtless many have formed their notion of Puritan dress from the
+imaginary pictures of several popular modern artists. It can plainly be
+seen by any one who examines the portraits in this book that they are
+little like these modern representations. The single figures called
+“Priscilla” and “Rose Standish” are well known. The former is the
+better in costume, and could the close dark cloth or velvet hood with
+turned-back band, and plain linen edge displayed beneath, be exchanged
+for the horseshoe shaped French hood which was then and many years
+later the universal head-wear, the verisimilitude would be increased.
+This hood is shown on the portraits of Madam Rawson, Madam Stoddard,
+Mistress Paddy, and others in this book. Rose Standish’s cap is a very
+pretty one, much prettier than the French hood, but I do not find it
+like any cap in English portraits of that day. Nor have I seen her
+picturesque sash. I do not deny the existence in portraits of 1620 of
+this cap and sash; I simply say that I have never found them myself in
+the hundreds of English portraits, effigies, etc., that I have
+examined.
+
+It will be noted that the women in the modern pictures all wear aprons.
+I think this is correct as they are drawn in their everyday dress, but
+it will be noted that none of these portraits display an apron; nor was
+an apron part of any rich dress in the seventeenth century. The reign
+of the apron had been in the sixteenth century, and it came in again
+with Anne. Of course every woman in Massachusetts used aprons.
+
+Early inventories of the effects of emigrant dames contain many an item
+of those housewifely garments. Jane Humphreys, of Dorchester,
+Massachusetts, had in her good wardrobe, in 1668, “2 Blew aprons, A
+White Holland Apron with a Small Lace at the bottom. A White Holland
+Apron with two breathes in it. My best white apron. My greene apron.”
+
+In the pictures, _The Return of the Mayflower_ and _The Pilgrim
+Exiles_, the masculine dress therein displayed is very close to that of
+the real men of the times. The great power of these pictures is, after
+all, not in the dress, but in the expression of the faces. The artist
+has portrayed the very spirit of pure religious feeling, self-denial,
+home-longing, and sadness of exile which we know must have been
+imprinted on those faces.
+
+The lack of likeness in the women’s dress is more through difference of
+figure and carriage and an indescribable cut of the garments than in
+detail, except in one adjunct, the sleeve, which is wholly unlike the
+seventeenth-century sleeve in these portraits. I have ever deemed the
+sleeve an important part both of a man’s coat and a woman’s gown. The
+tailor in the old play, _The Maid of the Mill_, says, “O Sleeve! O
+Sleeve! I’ll study all night, madam, to magnify your sleeves!” By its
+inelegant shape a garment may be ruined. By its grace it accents the
+beauty of other portions of the apparel. In these pictures of Puritan
+attire, it has proved able to make or mar the likeness to the real
+dress. It is now a component part of both outer and inner garment. It
+was formerly extraneous.
+
+In the reign of Henry VIII, the sleeve was generally a separate article
+of dress and the most gorgeous and richly ornamented portion of the
+dress. Outer and inner sleeves were worn by both men and women, for
+their doublets were sleeveless. Elizabeth gradually banished the outer
+hanging sleeve, though she retained the detached sleeve.
+
+Sleeves had grown gravely offensive to Puritans; the slashing was
+excessive. A Massachusetts statute of 1634 specifies that “No man or
+woman shall make or buy any slashed clothes other than one slash in
+each sleeve and another in the back. Men and women shall have liberty
+to wear out such apparell as they now are provided of except the
+immoderate great sleeves and slashed apparel.”
+
+
+Virago-sleeve. Virago-sleeve.
+
+Size and slashes were both held to be a waste of good cloth.
+“Immoderate great sleeves” could never be the simple coat sleeve with
+cuff in which our modern artists are given to depicting Virginian and
+New England dames. Doubtless the general shape of the dress was simple
+enough, but the sleeve was the only part which was not close and plain
+and unornamented. I have found no close coat sleeves with cuffs upon
+any old American portraits. I recall none on English portraits. You may
+see them, though rarely, in England under hanging sleeves upon figures
+which have proved valuable conservators of fashion, albeit sombre of
+design and rigid of form, namely, effigies in stone or metal upon old
+tombs; these not after the year 1620, though these are really a small
+“leg-of-mutton” sleeve being gathered into the arm-scye. A beautiful
+brass in a church on the Isle of Wight is dated 1615. This has long,
+hanging sleeves edged with leaflike points of cut-work; cuffs of
+similar work turn back from the wrists of the undersleeves. A _Satyr_
+by Fitzgeffrey, published the same year, complains that the wrists of
+women and men are clogged with bush-points, ribbons, or rebato-twists.
+“Double cufts” is an entry in a Plymouth inventory—which explains
+itself. In the hundreds of inventories I have investigated I have never
+seen half a dozen entries of cuffs. The two or three I have found have
+been specified as “lace cuffs.”
+
+George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, wrote with a vivid pen; one of
+his own followers said with severity, “He paints high.” Some of his
+denunciations of the dress of his day afford a very good notion of the
+peculiarities of contemporary costume; though he may be read with this
+caution in mind. He writes deploringly of women’s sleeves (in the year
+1654); it will be noted that he refers to double cuffs:—
+
+
+“The women having their cuffs double under and above, like a butcher
+with his white sleeves, their ribands tied about their hands, and three
+or four gold laces about their clothes.”
+
+
+
+
+Ninon de l’Enclos. Ninon de l’Enclos.
+
+There were three generations of English heralds named Holme, all
+genealogists, and all artists; they have added much to our knowledge of
+old English dress. Randle Holme, the Chester herald, lived in the reign
+of Charles II, and increased a collection of manuscript begun by his
+grandfather and now forming part of the Harleian Collection in the
+British Museum. He wrote also the _Academy of Armoury_, published in
+1688, and made a vast number of drawings for it, as well as for his
+other works. His note-books of drawings are preserved. In one of them
+he gives drawings of the sleeve which is found on every
+seventeenth-century portrait of American women which I have ever seen.
+He calls this a virago-sleeve. It was worn in Queen Elizabeth’s day,
+but was a French fashion. It is gathered very full in the shoulder and
+again at the wrist, or at the forearm. At intervals between, it is
+drawn in by gathering-strings of narrow ribbons, or ferret, which are
+tied in a pretty knot or rose on the upper part of the sleeve. One from
+a French portrait is given here. Madam Ninon de l’Enclos also wears
+one. This gathering may be at the elbow, forming thus two puffs, or
+there may be several such drawing-strings. I have seen a virago-sleeve
+with five puffs. It is a fine decorative sleeve, not always shapely,
+perhaps, but affording in the pretty knots of ribbon some relief to the
+severity of the rest of the dress.
+
+Stubbes wrote, “Some have sleeves cut up the arm, drawn out with sundry
+colours, pointed with silk ribbands, and very gallantly tied with love
+knotts.” It was at first a convention of fashion, and it lingered long
+in some modification, that wherever there was a slash there was a knot
+of ribbon or a bunch of tags or aglets. This in its origin was really
+that the slash might be tied together. Ribbon knots were much worn; the
+early days of the great court of Louis XIV saw an infinite use of
+ribbons for men and women. When, in the closing years of the century,
+rows of these knots were placed on either side of the stiff busk with
+bars of ribbon forming a stomacher, they were called _echelles_,
+ladders. _The Ladies’ Dictionary_ (1694) says they were “much in
+request.”
+
+This virago-sleeve was worn by women of all ages and by children, both
+boys and girls. A virago-sleeve is worn by Rebecca Rawson (here), and
+by Mrs. Simeon Stoddard (here), by Madam Padishal and by her little
+girl, and by the Gibbes child shown later in the book.
+
+A carved figure of Anne Stotevill (1631) is in Westminster Abbey. Her
+dress is a rich gown slightly open in front at the foot. It has
+ornamental hooks, or frogs, with a button at each end—these are in
+groups of three, from chin to toe. Four groups of three frogs each, on
+both sides, make twenty-four, thus giving forty-eight buttons. A stiff
+ruff is at the neck, and similar smaller ones at the wrist. She wears a
+French hood with a loose scarf over it. She has a very graceful
+virago-sleeve with handsome knots of ribbon.
+
+It is certain that men’s sleeves and women’s sleeves kept ever close
+company. Neither followed the other; they walked abreast. If a woman’s
+sleeves were broad and scalloped, so was the man’s. If the man had a
+tight and narrow sleeve, so did his wife. When women had
+virago-sleeves, so did men. Even in the nineteenth century, at the
+first coming of leg-of-mutton sleeves in 1830 _et seq_., dandies’
+sleeves were gathered full at the armhole. In the second reign of these
+vast sleeves a few years ago, man had emancipated himself from the
+reign of woman’s fashions, and his sleeves remained severely plain.
+
+Small invoices of fashionable clothing were constantly being sent
+across seas. There were sent to and from England and other countries
+“ventures,” which were either small lots of goods sent on speculation
+to be sold in the New World, or a small sum given by a private
+individual as a “venture,” with instructions to purchase abroad
+anything of interest or value that was salable. To take charge of these
+petty commercial transactions, there existed an officer, now obsolete,
+known as a supercargo. It is told that one Providence ship went out
+with the ventures of one hundred and fifty neighbors on board—that is,
+one hundred and fifty persons had some money or property at stake on
+the trip. Three hundred ventures were placed with another supercargo.
+Sometimes women sent sage from their gardens, or ginseng if they could
+get it. A bunch of sage paid in China for a porcelain tea-set. Along
+the coast, women ventured food-supplies,—cheese, eggs, butter, dried
+apples, pickles, even hard gingerbread; another sent a barrel of cider
+vinegar. Clothes in small lots were constantly being bought and sold on
+a venture. From London, in November, 1667, Walter Banesely sent as a
+venture to William Pitkin in Hartford these articles of clothing with
+their prices:—
+
+£	s. “1 Paire Pinck Colour’d mens hose	1	6 10 Paire Mens Silke
+Hose, 17s per pair	8	10 10 Paire Womens Silke Hose, 16s per
+pair	1	 12 10 Paire Womens Green Hose	6	 10 1 Pinck
+Colour’d Stomacher made of Knotts	3	10 1 Pinck Colour’d Wastcote
+A Black Sute of Padisuay. Hatt, Hatt band, Shoo knots &; trunk. The
+wastcote and stomacher are a Venture of my wife’s; the Silke Stockens
+mine own.”
+
+There remains another means of information of the dress of Puritan
+women in what was the nearest approach to a collection of
+fashion-plates which the times afforded.
+
+
+Lady Catharina Howard. Lady Catharina Howard.
+
+In the year 1640 a collection of twenty-six pictures of Englishwomen
+was issued by one Wenceslas Hollar, an engraver and drawing-master,
+with this title, _Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus. The severall Habits of
+Englishwomen, from the Nobilitie to the Country Woman As they are in
+these Times._ These bear the same relation to portraits showing what
+was really worn, as do fashion-plates to photographs. They give us the
+shapes of gowns, bonnets, etc., yet are not precisely the real thing.
+The value of this special set is found in three points: First, the
+drawings confirm the testimony of Lely, Van Dyck, and other artists;
+they prove how slightly Van Dyck idealized the costume of his sitters.
+Second, they give representations of folk in the lower walks of life;
+such folk were not of course depicted in portraits. Third, the drawings
+are full length, which the portraits are not. Four of these drawings
+are reduced and shown here. I give here the one entitled _The Puritan
+Woman_, though it is one of the most disappointing in the whole
+collection. It is such a negative presentation; so little marked detail
+or even associated evidence is gained from it. I had a baffled thought
+after examining it that I knew less of Puritan dress than without it. I
+see that they gather up their gowns for walking after a mode known in
+later years as washerwoman style. And by that very gathering up we lose
+what the drawing might have told us; namely, how the gowns were shaped
+in the back; how attached to the waist or bodice; and how the bodice
+was shaped at the waist, whether it had a straight belt, whether it was
+pointed, whether slashed in tabs or laps like a samare. The sleeve,
+too, is concealed, and the kerchief hides everything else. We know
+these kerchiefs were worn among the “fifty other ways,” for some
+portraits have them; but the whisk was far more common. Lady Catharina
+Howard, aged eleven in the year 1646, was drawn by Hollar in a
+kerchief.
+
+There had been some change in the names of women’s attire in twenty
+years, since 1600, when the catalogue of the Queen’s wardrobe was made.
+Exclusive of the Coronation, Garter, Parliament, and mourning robes, it
+ran thus:—
+
+
+“Robes.
+Petticoats.
+French gowns.
+Cloaks.
+Round gowns.
+Safeguards.
+Loose gowns.
+Jupes.
+Kirtles.
+Doublets.
+Foreparts.
+Lap mantles.”
+
+
+In her New Year’s gifts were also, “strayt-bodyed gowns, trayn-gowns,
+waist-robes, night rayls, shoulder cloaks, inner sleeves, round
+kirtles.” She also had nightgowns and jackets, and underwear, hose, and
+various forms of foot-gear. Many of these garments never came to
+America. Some came under new names. Many quickly disappeared from
+wardrobes. I never read in early American inventories of robes, either
+French robes or plain robes. Round gowns, loose gowns, petticoats,
+cloaks, safeguards, lap mantles, sleeves, nightgowns, nightrails, and
+night-jackets continued in wear.
+
+I have never found the word forepart in this distinctive signification
+nor the word kirtle; though our modern writers of historical novels are
+most liberal of kirtles to their heroines. It is a pretty, quaint name,
+and ought to have lingered with us; but “what a deformed thief this
+Fashion is”—it will not leave with us garment or name that we like
+simply because it pleases us.
+
+Doublets were worn by women.
+
+
+“The Women also have doublets and Jerkins as men have, buttoned up the
+brest, and made with Wings, Welts and Pinions on shoulder points as
+men’s apparell is for all the world, &; though this be a kind of attire
+appropriate only to Man yet they blush not to wear it.”
+
+
+Anne Hibbins, the _witch_, had a black satin doublet among other
+substantial attire.
+
+A fellow-barrister of Governor John Winthrop, Sergeant Erasmus Earle, a
+most uxorious husband, was writing love-letters to his wife Frances,
+who lived out of London, at the same time that Winthrop was writing to
+Margaret Winthrop. Earle was much concerned over a certain doublet he
+had ordered for his wife. He had bought the blue bayes for this garment
+in two pieces, and he could not decide whether the shorter piece should
+go into the sleeve or the body, whether it should have skirts or not.
+If it did not, then he had bought too much silver lace, which troubled
+him sorely.
+
+Margaret Winthrop had better instincts; to her husband’s query as to
+sending trimming for her doublet and gown, she answers, “_When I see
+the cloth_ I will send word what trimming will serve;” and she writes
+to London, insisting on “the civilest fashion now in use,” and for
+Sister Downing, who is still in England, to give Tailor Smith
+directions “that he may make it the better.” Mr. Smith sent scissors
+and a hundred needles and the like homely gifts across seas as “tokens”
+to various members of the Winthrop household, showing his friendly
+intimacy with them all. For many years after America was settled we
+find no evidence that women’s garments were ever made by mantua-makers.
+All the bills which exist are from tailors. One of William Sweatland
+for work done for Jonathan Corwin of Salem is in the library of the
+American Antiquarian Society:—
+
+£	s.	d. “Sept. 29, 1679. To plaiting a gown for
+Mrs.		3	6 To makeing a Childs Coat		6 To makeing a
+Scarlet petticoat with Silver Lace for Mrs.		9 For new makeing a
+plush somar for Mrs.		6 Dec. 22, 1679. For makeing a somar for
+your Maide		10 Mar. 10, 1679. To a yard of Callico		2 To 1
+Douzen and 1/2 of silver buttons		1	6 To Thread			4
+To makeing a broad cloth hatte		14 To makeing a haire
+Camcottcoat		9 To makeing new halfsleeves to a silk
+Coascett		1 March 25. To altering and fitting a paire of Stays
+for Mrs		1 Ap. 2, 1680, to makeing a Gowne for ye Maide		10
+May 20. For removing buttons of yr coat.			6 Juli 25, 1630.
+For makeing two Hatts and Jacketts for your two sonnes		19 Aug.
+14. To makeing a white Scarsonnett plaited Gowne for Mrs		8 To
+makeing a black broad cloth Coat for yourselfe		9 Sept. 3, 1868.
+To makeing a Silke Laced Gowne for Mrs	1	8 Oct. 7, 1860, to
+makeing a Young Childs Coate		4 To faceing your Owne Coat
+Sleeves		1 To new plaiting a petty Coat for Mrs		1	6
+Nov. 7. To makeing a black broad Cloth Gowne for Mrs		18 Feb. 26,
+1680-1. To Searing a Petty Coat for Mrs		6 —-	—-	—- Sum is,
+£;8	 4s.	10d.	”
+
+From many bills and inventories we learn that the time of the
+settlement of Plymouth and Boston reached a transitional period in
+women’s dress as it did in men’s. Mrs. Winthrop had doublets as had
+Governor Winthrop, but I think her daughter wore gowns when her sons
+wore coats. The doublet for a woman was shaped like that of a man, and
+was of double thickness like a man’s. It might be sleeveless, with a
+row of welts or wings around the armhole; or if it had sleeves the
+welts, or a roll or cap, still remained. The trimming of the arm-scye
+was universal, both for men and women. A fuller description of the
+doublet than has ever before been written will be given in the chapter
+upon the Evolution of the Coat. The “somar” which is the samare, named
+also in the bill of the Salem tailor, seems to have been a Dutch
+garment, and was so much worn in New York that I prefer to write of it
+in the following chapter. We are then left with the gown; the gown
+which took definite shape in Elizabeth’s day. Of course no one could
+describe it like Stubbes. I frankly confess my inability to approach
+him. Read his words, so concise yet full of color and conveying detail;
+I protest it is wonderful.
+
+
+“Their Gowns be no less famous, some of silk velvet grogram taffety
+fine cloth of forty shillings a yard. But if the whole gown be not
+silke or velvet then the same shall be layed with lace two or three
+fingers broade all over the gowne or the most parte. Or if not so (as
+Lace is not fine enough sometimes) then it must be garded with great
+gardes of costly Lace, and as these gowns be of sundry colours so they
+be of divers fashions changing with the Moon. Some with sleeves hanging
+down to their skirts, trayling on the ground, and cast over the
+shoulders like a cow’s tayle. These have sleeves much shorter, cut up
+the arme, and pointed with Silke-ribons very gallantly tyed with true
+loves knottes—(for soe they call them). Some have capes fastened down
+to the middist of their backs, faced with velvet or else with some fine
+wrought silk Taffeetie at the least, and fringed about Bravely, and (to
+sum up all in a word) some are pleated and ryveled down the back
+wonderfully with more knacks than I can declare.”
+
+
+The guards of lace a finger broad laid on over the seams of the gown
+are described by Pepys in his day. He had some of these guards of gold
+lace taken from the seams of one of his wife’s old gowns to overlay the
+seams of one of his own cassocks and rig it up for wear, just as he
+took his wife’s old muff, like a thrifty husband, and bought her a new
+muff, like a kind one. Not such a domestic frugalist was he, though, as
+his contemporary, the great political economist, Dudley North, Baron
+Guildford, Lord Sheriff of London, who loved to sit with his wife
+ripping off the old guards of lace from her gown, “unpicking” her gown,
+he called it, and was not at all secret about it. Both men walked
+abroad to survey the gems and guards worn by their neighbors’ wives,
+and to bring home word of new stuffs, new trimmings, to their own
+wives. Really a seventeenth-century husband was not so bad. Note in my
+_Life of Margaret Winthrop_ how Winthrop’s fellow-barrister, Sergeant
+Erasmus Earle, bought camlet and lace, and patterns for doublets for
+his wife Frances Fontayne, and ran from London clothier to London
+mantua-maker, and then to London haberdasher and London tailor, to
+learn the newest weaves of cloth, the newest drawing in of the sleeves.
+I know no nineteenth-century husband of that name who would hunt
+materials and sleeve patterns, and buy doublet laces and find
+gown-guards for his wife. And then the gown sleeves! What a description
+by Stubbes of the virago-sleeve “tied in and knotted with silk ribbons
+in love-knots!” It is all wonderful to read.
+
+We learn from these tailors’ bills that tailors’ work embraced far more
+articles than to-day; in the _Orbis Sensualium Pictus_, 1659, a
+tailor’s shop has hanging upon the wall woollen hats, breeches,
+waistcoats, jackets, women’s cloaks, and petticoats. There are also
+either long hose or lasts for stretching hose, for they made stockings,
+leggins, gaiters, buskins; also a number of boxes which look like
+muff-boxes. One tailor at work is seated upon a platform raised about a
+foot from the floor. His seat is a curious bench with two legs about
+two feet long and two about one foot long. The base of the two long
+legs are on the floor, the other two set upon the platform. The
+tailor’s feet are on the platform, thus his work is held well up before
+his face. Sometimes his legs are crossed upon the platform in front of
+him. The platform was necessary, or, at any rate, advisable for another
+reason. The habits of Englishmen at that time, their manners and
+customs, I mean, were not tidy; and floors were very dirty. Any garment
+resting on the floor would have been too soiled for a gentleman’s wear
+before it was donned at all.
+
+I have discovered one thing about old-time tailors,—they were just as
+trying as their successors, and had as many tricks of trade. A writer
+in 1582 says, “If a tailor makes your gown too little, he covers his
+fault with a broad stomacher; if too great, with a number of pleats; if
+too short, with a fine guard; if too long with a false gathering.”
+
+In several of the household accounts of colonial dames which I have
+examined I have found the prices and items very confusing and irregular
+when compared with tailors’ bills and descriptive notes and letters
+accompanying them. And in one case I was fain to believe that the
+lady’s account-book had been kept upon the plan devised by the simple
+Mrs. Pepys,—a plan which did anger her spouse Samuel “most mightily.”
+He was filled with admiration of her household-lists—her kitchen
+accounts. He admired in the modern sense of the word “admire”; then he
+admired in the old-time meaning—of suspicious wonder. For albeit she
+could do through his strenuous teaching but simple sums in
+“Arithmetique,” had never even attempted long division, yet she always
+rendered to her husband perfectly balanced accounts, month after month.
+At last, to his angry queries, she whimpered that “whenever she doe
+misse a sum of money, she do add some sums to other things,” till she
+made it perfectly correct in her book—a piece of such simple duplicity
+that I wonder her husband had not suspected it months before. And she
+also revealed to him that she “would lay aside money for a necklace” by
+pretending to pay more for household supplies than she really had, and
+then tying up the extra amount in a stocking foot. He writes, “I find
+she is very cunning and when she makes least show hath her wits at
+work; and _so_ to my office to my accounts.”
+
+
+Costumes of Englishwomen of the Seventeenth Century. Costumes of
+Englishwomen of the Seventeenth Century.
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS
+
+“Two things I love, two usuall thinges they are:
+The Firste, New-fashioned cloaths I love to wear,
+Newe Tires, newe Ruffes; aye, and newe Gestures too
+In all newe Fashions I do love to goe.
+    The Second Thing I love is this, I weene
+    To ride aboute to have those Newe Cloaths scene.
+
+“At every Gossipping I am at still
+And ever wilbe—maye I have my will.
+For at ones own Home, praie—who is’t can see
+How fyne in new-found fashioned Tyres we bee?
+Vnless our Husbands—Faith! but very fewe!—
+And whoo’d goe gaie, to please a Husband’s view?
+    Alas! wee wives doe take but small Delight
+    If none (besides our husbands) see that Sight”
+
+—“The Gossipping Wives Complaint,” 1611 (circa).
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS
+
+
+I
+
+
+t is a matter of deep regret that no “Lists of Apparel” were made out
+for the women emigrants in any of the colonies. Doubtless many came who
+had a distinct allotment of clothing, among them the redemptioners. We
+know one case, that of the “Casket Girls,” of Louisiana, where a group
+of “virtuous, modest, well-carriaged young maids” each had a casket or
+box of clothing supplied to her as part of her payment for emigration.
+I wish we had these lists, not that I should deem them of great value
+or accuracy in one respect since they would have been made out
+naturally by men, but because I should like to read the struggles of
+the average shipping-clerk or supercargo, or even shipping-master or
+company’s president, over the items of women’s dress. One reason why
+the lists we have in the court records are so wildly spelled and often
+vague is, I am sure, because the recording-clerks were always men. Such
+hopeless puzzles as droll or drowlas, cale or caul or kail, chatto or
+shadow, shabbaroon or chaperone, have come to us through these poor
+struggling gentlemen.
+
+There are not to my knowledge any portraits in existence of the wives
+of the first Dutch settlers of New Netherland. They would have been
+dressed, I am sure, in the full dress of Holland vrouws. We can turn to
+the court records of New Netherland to learn the exact item of the
+dress of the settlers. Let me give in full this inventory of an
+exceptionally rich and varied wardrobe of Madam Jacob de Lange of New
+Amsterdam, 1662:—
+
+£;	 s.	d. One under petticoat with a body of red bay	1	7
+One under petticoat, scarlet	1	15 One petticoat, red cloth with
+black lace	2	15 One striped stuff petticoat with black
+lace	2	8 Two colored drugget petticoats with gray
+linings	1	2 Two colored drugget petticoats with white
+linings		18 One colored drugget petticoat with pointed
+lace		8 One black silk petticoat with ash gray silk
+lining	1	10 One potto-foo silk petticoat with black silk
+lining	2	15 One potto-foo silk petticoat with taffeta
+lining	1	13 One silk potoso-a-samare with lace	3 One tartanel
+samare with tucker	1	10 One black silk crape samare with
+tucker	1	10 Three flowered calico samares	2	17 Three calico
+nightgowns, one flowered, two red		7 One silk waistcoat, one
+calico waistcoa.		14 One pair of bodices		4 Five pair white
+cotton stockings		9 Three black love-hoods		5 One white
+love-hood		2	6 Two pair sleeves with great lace	1	3 Four
+cornet caps with lace	3 One black silk rain cloth cap		10 One
+black plush mask		1	6 Four yellow lace drowlas		2
+
+This is a most interesting list of garments. The sleeves with great
+lace must from their price have been very rich articles of dress. The
+yellow lace drowlas, since there were four of them (and no other
+neckerchiefs, such as gorgets, piccadillies, or whisks are named), must
+have been neckwear of some form. I suspect they are the lace drowls or
+drolls to which I refer in a succeeding chapter on A Vain Puritan
+Grandmother. The rain cloth cap of black silk is curious also, being
+intended to wear over another cap or a love-hood. The cornet caps with
+lace are a Dutch fashion. The “lace” was in the form of lappets or
+pinners which flapped down at the side of the face over the ears and
+almost over the cheeks. Evelyn speaks of a woman in “a cornet with the
+upper pinner dangling about her cheeks like hound’s ears.” Cotgrave
+tells in rather vague definition that a cornet is “a fashion of Shadow
+or Boone Grace used in old time and to this day by old women.” It was
+not like a bongrace, nor like the cap I always have termed a shadow,
+but it had two points like broad horns or ears with lace or gauze
+spread over both and hanging from these horns. Cornets and corneted
+caps are often in Dutch inventories in early New York. And they can be
+seen in old Dutch pictures. They were one of the few distinctly Dutch
+modes that lingered in New Netherland; but by the third generation from
+the settlement they had disappeared.
+
+
+Mrs. Livingstone. Mrs. Livingstone.
+
+What the words “potto-foo” and “potoso-a-samare” mean I cannot
+decipher. I have tried to find Dutch words allied in sound but in vain.
+I believe the samare was a Dutch fashion. We rarely find samares worn
+in Virginia and Maryland, but the name frequently occurs in the first
+Dutch inventories in New Netherland and occasionally in the Connecticut
+valley, where there were a few Dutch settlers; occasionally also in
+Plymouth, whose first settlers had been for a number of years under
+Dutch influences in Holland; and rarely in Salem and Boston, whose
+planters also had felt Dutch influences through the settling in Essex
+and Suffolk of opulent Flemish and Dutch “clothiers”—cloth-workers.
+These Dutchmen had married Englishwomen, and their presence in English
+homes was distinctly shown by the use then and to the present day of
+Dutch words, Dutch articles of dress, furniture, and food. From these
+Dutch-settled shires of Essex and Suffolk came John Winthrop and all
+the so-called Bay Emigration.
+
+I am convinced that a samare was a certain garment which I have seen in
+French, Dutch, and English portraits of the day. It is a tight-fitting
+jacket or waist or bodice—call it what you will; its skirt or portion
+below the belt-line is four to eight inches deep, cut up in tabs or
+oblong flaps, four on each side. These slits are to the belt line. It
+is, to explain further, a basque, tight-fitting or with the waist laid
+in plaits, and with the basque skirt cut in eight tabs. These laps or
+tabs set out rather stiffly and squarely over the full-gathered
+petticoats of the day.
+
+I turn to a Dutch dictionary for a definition of the word “samare,”
+though my Dutch dictionary being of the date 1735 is too recent a
+publication to be of much value. In it a samare is defined simply as a
+woman’s gown. Randle Holme says, rather vaguely, that it is a short
+jacket for women’s wear with four side-laps, reaching to the knees. In
+this rich wardrobe of the widow De Lange, twelve petticoats are
+enumerated and no overdress-jacket or doublet of any kind except those
+samares. Their price shows that they were not a small garment. One
+“silk potoso-a-samare with lace” was worth £;3. One “tartanel samare
+with tucker” was worth £;1 10s. One “black silk crape samare with
+tucker” was worth £;1 10s., and three “flowered calico” samares were
+worth £;2 10s. They were evidently of varying weights for summer and
+winter wear, and were worn over the rich petticoat.
+
+The bill of the Salem tailor, William Sweatland (1679), shows that he
+charged 9s. for making a scarlet petticoat with silver lace; for making
+a black broadcloth gown 18s.; while “new-makeing a plush somar for
+Mistress.” (which was making over) was 6s.; “making a somar for your
+Maide” was 10s., which was the same price he charged for making a gown
+for the maid.
+
+The colors in the Dutch gowns were uniformly gay. Madam Cornelia de Vos
+in a green cloth petticoat, a red and blue “Haarlamer” waistcoat, a
+pair of red and yellow sleeves, a white cornet cap, green stockings
+with crimson clocks, and a purple “Pooyse” apron was a blooming
+flower-bed of color.
+
+
+Mrs. Magdalen Beekman. Mrs. Magdalen Beekman.
+
+I fear we have unconsciously formed our mental pictures of our Dutch
+forefathers through the vivid descriptions of Washington Irving. We
+certainly cannot improve upon his account of the Dutch housewife of New
+Amsterdam:—
+
+
+“Their hair, untortured by the abominations of art, was scrupulously
+pomatumed back from their foreheads with a candle, and covered with a
+little cap of quilted calico, which fitted exactly to their heads.
+Their petticoats of linsey-woolsey were striped with a variety of
+gorgeous dyes, though I must confess those gallant garments were rather
+short, scarce reaching below the knee; but then they made up in the
+number, which generally equalled that of the gentlemen’s small-clothes;
+and what is still more praise-worthy, they were all of their own
+manufacture,—of which circumstance, as may well be supposed, they were
+not a little vain.
+
+“Those were the honest days, in which every woman stayed at home, read
+the Bible, and wore pockets,—ay, and that, too, of a goodly size,
+fashioned with patchwork into many curious devices, and ostentatiously
+worn on the outside. These, in fact, were convenient receptacles where
+all good housewives carefully stored away such things as they wished to
+have at hand; by which means they often came to be incredibly crammed.
+
+“Besides these notable pockets, they likewise wore scissors and
+pincushions suspended from their girdles by red ribbons, or, among the
+more opulent and showy classes, by brass and even silver chains,
+indubitable tokens of thrifty housewives and industrious spinsters. I
+cannot say much in vindication of the shortness of the petticoats; it
+doubtless was introduced for the purpose of giving the stockings a
+chance to be seen, which were generally of blue worsted, with
+magnificent red clocks; or perhaps to display a well-turned ankle and a
+neat though serviceable foot, set off by a high-heeled leathern shoe,
+with a large and splendid silver buckle.
+
+“There was a secret charm in those petticoats, which no doubt entered
+into the consideration of the prudent gallants. The wardrobe of a lady
+was in those days her only fortune; and she who had a good stock of
+petticoats and stockings was as absolutely an heiress as is a
+Kamtschatka damsel with a store of bear-skins, or a Lapland belle with
+plenty of reindeer.”
+
+
+A Boston lady, Madam Knights, visiting New York in 1704, wrote also
+with clear pen:—
+
+
+“The English go very fashionable in their dress. But the Dutch,
+especially the middling sort, differ from our women, in their habitt go
+loose, wear French muches which are like a Capp and headband in one,
+leaving their ears bare, which are sett out with jewells of a large
+size and many in number; and their fingers hoop’t with rings, some with
+large stones in them of many Coullers, as were their pendants in their
+ears, which you should see very old women wear as well as Young.”
+
+
+The jewels of one settler of New Amsterdam were unusually rich (in
+1650), and were enumerated thus:—
+
+ £;	 s.	d. One embroidered purse with silver bugle and chain to
+ the girdle and silver hook and eye	1	4 One pair black pendants,
+ gold nocks		10 One gold boat, wherein thirteen diamonds &; one
+ white coral chain	 16 One pair gold stucks or pendants each with
+ ten diamonds	25 Two diamond rings	 24 One gold ring with clasp
+ beck		12 One gold ring or hoop bound round with
+ diamonds	2	 10
+
+These jewels were owned by the wife of an English-born citizen; but
+some of the Dutch dames had handsome jewels, especially rich
+chatelaines with their equipages and etuis with rich and useful
+articles in variety. When we read of such articles, we find it
+difficult to credit the words of an English clergyman who visited
+Albany about the year 1700; namely, that he found the Dutch women of
+best Albany families going about their homes in summer time and doing
+their household work while barefooted.
+
+Many conditions existed in Maryland which were found nowhere else in
+the colonies. These were chiefly topographical. The bay and its many
+and accommodative tide-water estuaries gave the planters the means, not
+only of easy, cheap, and speedy communication with each other, but with
+the whole world. It was a freedom of intercourse not given to any other
+_agricultural_ community in the whole world. It was said that every
+planter had salt water within a rifle-shot of his front gate—therefore
+the world was open to him. The tide is never strong enough on this
+shore to hinder a sailboat nor is the current of the rivers
+perceptible. The crop of the settlers was wholly tobacco—indeed, all
+the processes of government, of society, of domestic life, began and
+ended with tobacco. It was a wonderfully lucrative crop, but it was an
+unhappy one for any colony; for the tobacco ships arrived in fleets
+only in May and June, when the crops were ready for market. The ships
+could come in anywhere by tide-water. Hence there were two or three
+months of intense excitement, or jollity, lavishness, extravagance,
+when these ships were in; a regular Bartholomew Fair of disorder,
+coarse wit, and rough fun; and the rest of the year there was nothing;
+no business, no money, no fun. Often the planter found himself after a
+month of June gambling and fun with three years’ crops pledged in
+advance to his creditors. The factor then played his part; took a
+mortgage, perhaps, on both crops and plantation; and invariably ended
+in owning everything. A striking but coarse picture of the traffic and
+its evils is given in _The Sot-weed Factor_, a poem of the day.
+
+
+Lady Anne Clifford. Lady Anne Clifford.
+
+Land and living were cheap in this tobacco land, but labor was needed
+for the sudden crops; so negro slaves were bought, and warm invitations
+were sent back to England for all and every kind of labor. Convicts
+were welcomed, redemptioners were eagerly sought for; and the
+scrupulous laws which were made for their protection were blazoned in
+England. Many laborers were “crimped,” too, in England, and brought of
+course, willy-nilly, to Maryland. Landlords were even granted lands in
+proportion to their number of servants; a hundred acres per capita was
+the allowance. It can readily be seen that an ambitious or unscrupulous
+planter would gather in in some way as many heads as possible.
+
+Maryland under the Baltimores was the only colony that then admitted
+convicts—that is, admitted them openly and legally. She even greeted
+them warmly, eager for the labor of their hands, which was often
+skilled labor; welcomed them for their wits, albeit these had often
+been ill applied; welcomed them for their manners, often amply refined;
+welcomed them for their possibilities of rehabilitation of morals and
+behavior.
+
+The kidnapped servants did not fare badly. Many examples are known
+where they worked on until they had acquired ample means; still the
+literature of the day is full of complaints such as this in _The
+Sot-weed Factor_:—
+
+“Not then a slave; for twice two years
+My clothes were fashionably new.
+Nor were my shifts of linen blue.
+But Things are Changed. Now at the Hoe
+I daily work; and Barefoot go.
+In weeding Corn, or feeding Swine
+I spend my melancholy time.”
+
+
+Cheap ballads were sold in England warning English maidens against
+kidnapping.
+
+In the collection of Old Black Letter Ballads in the British Museum is
+one entitled _The Trappan’d Maiden or the Distressed Damsel_. Its date
+is believed to be 1670.
+
+“The Girl was cunningly trappan’d
+Sent to Virginny from England.
+Where she doth Hardship undergo;
+There is no cure, it must be so;
+But if she lives to cross the Main
+She vows she’ll ne’er go there again.
+  Give ear unto a Maid
+  That lately was betray’d
+    And sent unto Virginny O.
+  In brief I shall declare
+  What I have suffered there
+    When that I was weary, O.
+  The cloathes that I brought in
+  They are worn so thin
+    In the Land of Virginny O.
+  Which makes me for to say
+  Alas! and well-a-day
+    When that I was weary, O.”
+
+
+The indentured servant, the redemptioner, or free-willer saw before
+him, at the close of his seven years term, a home in a teeming land; he
+would own fifty acres of that land with three barrels, an axe, a gun,
+and a hoe—truly, the world was his. He would have also a suit of
+kersey, strong hose, a shirt, French fall shoes, and a good hat,—a
+Monmouth cap,—a suit worthy any man. Abigail had an equal start, a
+petticoat and waistcoat of strong wool, a perpetuana or callimaneo, two
+blue aprons, two linen caps, a pair of new shoes, two pairs of new
+stockings and a smock, and three barrels of Indian corn.
+
+We find that many of these redemptioners became soldiers in the
+colonial wars, often distinguished for bravery. This was through a law
+passed by the British government that all who enlisted in military
+service in the colonies were released by that act from further bondage.
+
+
+Lady Herrman. Lady Herrman.
+
+In the year 1659, on an autumn day, two white men with an Indian guide
+paddled swiftly over the waters of Chesapeake Bay on business of much
+import. They had come from Manhattan, and bore despatches from Governor
+Stuyvesant to the governor of Maryland, relating to the ever
+troublesome query of those days, namely, the exact placing of boundary
+lines. One of these men was Augustine Herrman, a man of parts, who had
+been ambassador to Rhode Island, a ship-owner, and man of executive
+ability, which was proven by his offer to Lord Baltimore to draw a map
+of Maryland and the surrounding country in exchange for a tract of land
+at the head of the bay. He was a land-surveyor, and drew an excellent
+map; and he received the four thousand acres afterwards known as
+Bohemia Manor. His portrait and that of his wife exist; they are
+wretched daubs, as were many of the portraits of the day, but,
+nevertheless, her dress is plainly revealed by it. You can see a copy
+of it here. The overdress, pleated body, and upper sleeve are green.
+The little lace collar is drawn up with a tiny ribbon just as we see
+collars to-day. Her hair is simplicity itself. The full undersleeves
+and heavy ear-rings give a little richness to the dress, which is not
+English nor is it Dutch.
+
+It is easy to know the items of the dress of the early Virginian
+settlers, where any court records exist. Many, of course, have perished
+in the terrible devastations of two long wars; but wherever they have
+escaped destruction all the records of church and town in the various
+counties of Virginia have been carefully transcribed and certified, and
+are open to consultation in the Virginia State Library at Richmond,
+where many of the originals are also preserved. Many have also been
+printed. Mr. Bruce, in his fine book, _The Economic History of Virginia
+in the Seventeenth Century_, has given frequent extracts from these
+certified records. From them and from the originals I gain much
+knowledge of the dress of the planters at that time. It varied little
+from dress in the New England colonies save that Virginians were richer
+than New Englanders, and so had more costly apparel. Almost nothing was
+manufactured in Virginia. The plainest and simplest articles of dress,
+save those of homespun stuffs, were ordered from England, as well as
+richer garments. We see even in George Washington’s day, until he was
+prevented by war, that he sent frequent orders, wherein elaborately
+detailed attire was ordered with the pettiest articles for household
+and plantation use.
+
+
+Elizabeth Cromwell. Elizabeth Cromwell.
+
+Mrs. Francis Pritchard of Lancaster, Virginia (in 1660), we find had a
+representative wardrobe. She owned an olive-colored silk petticoat,
+another of silk tabby, and one of flowered tabby, one of velvet, and
+one of white striped dimity. Her printed calico gown was lined with
+blue silk, thus proving how much calico was valued. Other bodices were
+a striped dimity jacket and a black silk waistcoat. To wear with these
+were a pair of scarlet sleeves and other sleeves of ruffled holland.
+Five aprons, various neckwear of Flanders lace, and several rich
+handkerchiefs completed a gay costume to which green silk stockings
+gave an additional touch of color. Green was distinctly the favorite
+color for hose among all the early settlers; and nearly all the
+inventories in Virginia have that entry.
+
+Mrs. Sarah Willoughby of Lower Norfolk, Virginia, had at the same date
+a like gay wardrobe, valued, however, at but £;14. Petticoats of
+calico, striped linen, India silk, worsted prunella, and red, blue, and
+black silk were accompanied with scarlet waistcoats with silver lace, a
+white knit waistcoat, a “pair of red paragon bodices,” and another pair
+of sky-colored satin bodices. She had also a striped stuff jacket, a
+worsted prunella mantle, and a black silk gown. There were distinctions
+in the shape of the outer garments—mantles, jackets, and gowns. Hoods,
+aprons, and bands completed her comfortable attire.
+
+Though so much of the clothing of the Virginia planters was made in
+England, there was certain work done by home tailors; such work as
+repairs, alterations, making children’s common clothing, and the like,
+also the clothing of upper servants. Often the tailor himself was a
+bond-servant. Thus, Luke Mathews, a tailor from Hereford, England, was
+bound to Thomas Landon for a term of two years from the day he landed.
+He was to have sixpence a day while working for the Landon family, but
+when working for other persons half of whatever he earned. In the
+Lancaster County records is a tailor’s account (one Noah Rogers) from
+the year 1690 to 1709; it was paid, of course, in tobacco. We may set
+the tobacco as worth about twopence a pound. It will be thus seen from
+the following items that prices in Virginia were higher than in New
+England:—
+
+Pounds For making seven womens’ Jacketts	70 For making a Coat for
+y’r Wife	60 For altering a Plush Britches	20 For Y’r Wife &;
+Daughturs Jackett	30 For y’r Britches	20 Coat	40 Y’r Boys
+Jacketts	20 Y’r Sons britches	25 Y’r Eldest Sons Ticking
+Suite	60 To making I Dimity Waistcoat, Serge suite 2 Cotton
+Waistcoats and y’r Dimity Coat	185 For a pr of buff Gloves	100
+For I Neck Cloth	12 A pr of Stockings	120 A pr Callimmaneo
+britches	60
+
+Another bill of the year 1643 reads:—
+
+Pounds To making a suit with buttons to it	80 1 ell canvas	30 for
+dimothy linings	30 for buttons &; silke	50 for points	50 for
+taffeta	58 for belly pieces	40 for hooks &; eies	10 for
+ribbonin for pockets	20 for stiffinin for a collar	10 —- Sum 378
+
+The extraordinary prices of one hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco
+for making a pair of stockings, and one hundred for a pair of gloves,
+when making a coat was but forty, must remain a seventeenth-century
+puzzle. This coat was probably a petticoat. It is curious, too, to find
+a tailor making gloves and stockings at any price. I think both buff
+gloves and stockings were of leather. Perhaps he charged thus broadly
+because it was “not in his line.” Work in leather was always well paid.
+We find tailors making leather breeches and leather drawers; the latter
+could not be the garments thus named to-day. Tailors became prosperous
+and well-to-do, perhaps because they worked in winter when other
+Virginia tradesfolk were idle; and they acquired large tracts of land.
+
+The conditions of settlement of Virginia were somewhat different from
+those of the planting of New England. We find the land of many
+Massachusetts towns wholly taken up by a group of settlers who
+emigrated together from the Old World and gathered into a town together
+in the New. It was like the transferal of a neighborhood. It brought
+about many happy results of mutual helpfulness and interdependence.
+From it arose that system of domestic service in which the children of
+friends rendered helpful duty in other households and were called help.
+Nothing of the kind existed in Virginia. There was far less
+neighborhood life. Plantations were isolated. Lines of demarcation in
+domestic service were much more definite where black life slaves and
+white bond-servants for a term of years performed all household
+service. For the daughter of one Virginia household to “help” in the
+work in another household was unknown. Each system had its benefits;
+each had its drawbacks. Neither has wholly survived; but something
+better has been evolved, in spite of our lamentations for the good old
+times.
+
+Life is better ordered, but it is not so picturesque as when negro
+servants swarmed in the kitchen, and German, Scotch, and Irish
+redemptioners served in varied callings. There was vast variety of
+attire to be found on the Virginia and Maryland plantations and in the
+few towns of these colonies. The black slaves wore homespun cloths and
+homespun stuff, crocus and Virginia cloth; and the women were happy if
+they could crown their simple attire with gay turbans. Indians stalked
+up to the plantation doors, halted in silence, and added their gay
+dress of the wild woods. German sectaries and mystics fared on garbed
+in their simple peasant dress. Irish sturdy beggars idled and fiddled
+through existence, in dress of shabby gentility, with always a wig.
+“Wild-Irish” came in brogues and Irish trousers. Sailors and pirates
+came ashore gayly dressed in varied costume, with gay sashes full of
+pistols and cutlasses, swaggering from wharf to plantation. Queer
+details of dress had all these varied souls; some have lingered to
+puzzle us.
+
+A year ago I had sent to me, by a descendant of an old Virginia family,
+a photograph of a curious gold medal or disk, a family relic which was
+evidently a token of some importance, since it bore tiny holes and had
+marks of having been affixed as an insignia. Though I could decipher
+the bold initials, cut in openwork, I could judge little by the
+colorless photograph, and finally with due misgivings and great
+precautions in careful packing, insurance, etc., the priceless family
+relic was intrusted to an express company for transmission to my
+inspection. Glad indeed was I that the owner had not presented it in
+person; for the decoration of honor, the insignia of rank, the trophy
+of prowess in war or emblem of conquest in love, was the pauper’s badge
+of a Maryland or Virginia parish. It was not a pleasant task to write
+back the mortifying news; but I am proud of the letter which I
+composed; no one could have done the deed better.
+
+There was an old law in Virginia which ran thus:—
+
+
+“Every person who shall receive relief from the parish and be sent to
+the said alms-house, shall, upon the shoulder of the right sleeve of
+his uppermost garment in an open and visible manner, wear a badge with
+the name of the parish to which he or she belongs, cut in red, blue or
+green cloth, as the vestry or church wardens shall direct. And if any
+poor person shall neglect or refuse to wear such badge, such offense
+may be punished either by ordering his or her allowance to be abridged,
+suspended or withdrawn, or the offender to be whipped not exceeding
+five lashes for one offense; and if any person not entitled to relief
+as aforesaid, shall presume to wear such badge, he or she shall be
+whipped for every such offense.”
+
+
+This law did not mean the full name of the parish, but significant
+initials. Sometimes the initials “P P” were employed, standing for
+public pauper. In other counties a metal badge was ordered, often cast
+in pewter. In one case a die-cutter was made by which an oblong brass
+badge could be cut, and stamps of letters to stamp the badges
+accompanied it. Sometimes these badges were three inches long.
+
+The expression, “the badge of poverty,” became a literal one when all
+persons receiving parochial relief had to wear a large Roman “P” with
+the initial of their parish set on the right sleeve of the uppermost
+garment in an open and visible manner. Likewise all pensioners were
+ordered to wear their badges “so they may be seen.” A pauper who
+refused to do this might be whipped and imprisoned for twenty-one days.
+Moreover, if the parish beadle neglected to spy out that the badge was
+missing from some poor pensioner, he had to pay half a crown himself.
+This legality was necessitated by actions like that of the English
+goody, who, when ordered to wear this pauper’s badge, demurely fastened
+it to her flannel petticoat. For this law, like all the early Virginia
+statutes, was simply a transcript of English laws. In New York, for
+some years in the eighteenth century, the parish poor—there were no
+paupers—were ordered to wear these badges.
+
+This mode of stigmatizing offenders as well as paupers was in force in
+the earlier days of all the colonies. Its existence in New England has
+been immortalized in _The Scarlet Letter_. I have given in my book,
+_Curious Punishments of By-gone Days_, many examples of the wearing of
+significant letters by criminals in various New England towns, in
+Plymouth, Salem, Taunton, Boston, Hartford, New London, also in New
+York. It offered a singular and striking detail of costume to see
+William Bacon in Boston, and Robert Coles in Roxbury, wearing “hanged
+about their necks on their outerd garment a D made of Ridd cloth sett
+on white.” A Boston woman wore a great “B,” not for Boston, but for
+blasphemy. John Davis wore a “V” for viciousness. Others were forced to
+wear for years a heavy cord around the neck, signifying that the
+offender lived under the shadow of the gallows and its rope.
+
+But return we to the metal badge which has caused this diversion to so
+gloomy a subject as crime and punishment. It was simply an oblong plate
+about three and one-half inches long, of humble metal—pinchbeck, or
+alchemy—but plated heavily with gold, therefore readily mistaken for
+solid gold; upon it the telltale initials “P P” had been stamped with a
+die, while smaller letters read “St. J. Psh.” These confirmed my
+immediate suspicions, for I had seen an order of relief for a stricken
+wanderer—an order for two weeks’ relief, where the wardens of “St. J.
+Psh.” ordered the sheriff to send the pauper on—to make him “move
+along” to some other parish. This gold badge was not unlike the metal
+badges worn on the left arm by “Bedlam beggars,” the licensed beggars
+of Bethlehem Hospital, the half-cured patients of that asylum for
+lunatics.
+
+The owner of this badge with ancient letters had not idly accepted
+them, or jumped at the conclusion that it was a decoration of honor for
+his ancestor. He had searched its history long, and he had found in
+Hall’s _Chronicles of the Pageants and Progress of the English Kings_
+ample reference to similar letters, but not as pauper’s badges. Indeed,
+like many another well-read and intelligent person, he had never heard
+of pauper’s badges. He read:—
+
+
+“In this garden was the King and five with him apparyelled in garments
+of purpull satyn, every edge garnished with frysed golde and every
+garment full of posyes made of letters of fine gold, of bullion as
+thick as might be. And six Ladyes wore rochettes rouled with crymosyn
+velvet and set with lettres like Carettes. And after the Kyng and his
+compaignions had daunsed, he appointed the Ladies, Gentlewomen, and
+Ambassadours to take the lettres off their garments in token of
+liberalyte. Which thing the common people perceiving, ranne to them and
+stripped them. And at this banket a shypman of London caught certayn
+lettres which he sould to a goldsmith for £;3. 14s. 8d.”
+
+
+All this was pleasing to the vanity of our friend, who fancied his
+letters as having taken part in a like pageant; perhaps as a gift of
+the king himself. We must remember that he believed his badge of pure
+gold. He did not know it was a base metal, plated. He proudly pictured
+his forbears taking part in some kingly pageant. He scorned so modern
+and commonplace a possibility as a society like Knights of the Golden
+Horseshoe, which was formed of Virginian gentlefolk.
+
+It plainly was a relic of some romance, and in the strangely
+picturesque events of the early years in this New World need not,
+though a pauper’s badge, have been a badge of dishonor. What strange
+event or happening, or scene had it overlooked? Why had it been covered
+with its golden sheet? Was it in defiance or in satire, in remorse, or
+in revenge, or in humble and grateful recognition of some strange and
+protecting Providence? We shall never know. It was certainly not an
+agreeable discovery, to think that your great-grandmother or
+grandfather had probably been branded as a public pauper; but there
+were strange exiles and strange paupers in those days, exiles through
+political parties, through the disfavor of kings, through religious
+conviction, and the pauper of the golden badge, the pauper of “St. J.
+Psh.,” may have ended his days as vestryman of that very church.
+Certain it was, that no ordinary pauper would have, or could have, thus
+preserved it; and from similar reverses and glorifying equally base
+objects came the subjects of half the crests of English heraldry.
+
+
+Pocahontas. Pocahontas.
+
+The likeness of Pocahontas (here) is dated 1616. It is in the dress of
+a well-to-do Englishwoman, a woman of importance and means. This
+portrait has been a shock to many who idealized the Indian princess as
+“that sweet American girl” as Thackeray called her. Especially is it
+disagreeable in many of the common prints from it. One flippant young
+friend, the wife of an army officer, who had been stationed in the far
+West, said of it, in disgust, remembering her frontier residence, “With
+a man’s hat on! just like every old Indian squaw!” This hat is
+certainly displeasing, but it was not worn through Indian taste; it was
+an English fashion, seen on women of wealth as well as of the plainer
+sort. I have a score of prints and photographs of English portraits,
+wherein this mannish hat is shown. In the original of this portrait of
+Pocahontas, the heavy, sombre effect is much lightened by the gold
+hatband. These rich hatbands were one of the articles of dress
+prohibited as vain and extravagant by the Massachusetts magistrates.
+They were costly luxuries. We find them named and valued in many
+inventories in all the colonies, and John Pory, secretary of the
+Virginia colony, wrote about that time to a friend in England a
+sentence which has given, I think to all who read it, an exaggerated
+notion of the dress of Virginians:—
+
+
+“Our cowekeeper here of James citty on Sundays goes accoutred all in
+ffreshe fflaminge silke, and a wife of one that had in England
+professed the blacke arte not of a Scholler but of a Collier weares her
+rough beaver hatt with a faire perle hatband, and a silken sute there
+to correspond.”
+
+
+Corroborative evidence of the richness and great cost of these hatbands
+is found in a letter of Susan Moseley to Governor Yardley of Virginia,
+telling of the exchange of a hatband and jewel for four young cows, one
+older cow and four oxen, on account of her “great want of cattle.” She
+writes on “this Last July 1650, at Elizabeth River in Virginia”:—
+
+
+“I had rayther your wife should weare them then any gentle woman I yet
+know in ye country; but good Sir have _no_ scruple concerninge their
+rightnesse, for I went my selfe from Rotterdam to ye haugh (The Hague)
+to inquire of ye gould smiths and found y’t they weare all Right,
+therefore thats without question, and for ye hat band y’t alone coste
+five hundred gilders as my husband knows verry well and will tell you
+soe when he sees you; for ye Juell and ye ringe they weare made for me
+at Rotterdam and I paid in good rex dollars sixty gilders for ye Juell
+and fivety and two gilders for ye ringe, which comes to in English
+monny eleaven poundes fower shillings. I have sent the sute and Ringe
+by your servant, and I wish Mrs. Yeardley health and prosperity to
+weare them in, and give you both thanks for your kind token. When my
+husband comes home we will see to gett ye Cattell home, in ye meantime
+I present my Love and service to your selfe &; wife, and commit you all
+to God, and remaine,
+
+    “Your friend and servant,
+
+         “SUSAN MOSELEY.”
+
+
+The purchasing value of five hundred guilders, the cost of the hatband,
+would be equal to-day to nearly a thousand dollars.
+
+In the portrait of Pocahontas in the original, there is also much
+liveliness of color, a rich scarlet with heavy braidings; these all
+lessen somewhat the forbidding presence of the stiff hat. She carries a
+fan of ostrich feathers, such as are depicted in portraits of Queen
+Elizabeth.
+
+These feather fans had little looking-glasses of silvered glass or
+polished steel set at the base of the feathers. Euphues says, “The
+glasses you carry in fans of feathers show you to be lighter than
+feathers; the new-found glass chains that you wear about your necks,
+argue you to be more brittle than glass.”
+
+These fans were, in the queen’s hands, as large as hand fire-screens;
+many were given to her as New Year’s gifts or other tokens, one by Sir
+Francis Drake. This makes me believe that they were a fashion taken
+from the North American Indians and eagerly adopted in England; where,
+for two centuries, everything related to the red-men of the New World
+was seized upon with avidity—except their costume.
+
+The hat worn by Pocahontas, or a lower crowned form of it, is seen in
+the Hollar drawing of Puritan women (here), where it seems specially
+ugly and ineffective, and on the Quaker Tub-preacher. It lingered for
+many years, perched on top of French hoods, close caps, kerchiefs, and
+other variety of head-gear worn by women of all ranks; never elegant,
+never becoming. I can think of no reason for its long existence and
+dominance save its costliness. It was not imitated, so it kept its
+place as long as the supply of beaver was ample. This hat was also
+durable. A good beaver hat was not for a year nor even for a
+generation. It lasted easily half a century. But we all know that the
+beaver disappeared suddenly from our forests; and as a sequence the
+beaver hat was no longer available for common wear. It still held its
+place as a splendid, feather-trimmed, rich article of dress, a hat for
+dress wear, and it was then comely and becoming. Within a few years,
+through national and state protection, the beaver, most interesting of
+wild creatures, has increased and multiplied in North America until it
+has become in certain localities a serious pest to lumbermen. We must
+revive the fashion of real beaver hats—that will speedily exterminate
+the race.
+
+
+Duchess of Buckingham and her Two Children. Duchess of Buckingham and
+her Two Children.
+
+It always has seemed strange to me that, in the prodigious interest
+felt in England for the American Indian, an interest shown in the
+thronging, gaping sight-seers that surrounded every taciturn red-man
+who visited the Old World, no fashions of ornament or dress were copied
+as gay, novel, or becoming. The Indian afforded startling detail to
+interest the most jaded fashion-seeker. The _Works of Captain John
+Smith_, Strachey’s _Historie of Travaile into Virginia_, the works of
+Roger Williams, of John Josselyn, the letters of various missionaries,
+give full accounts of their brilliant attire; and many of these works
+were illustrated. The beautiful mantles of the Virginia squaws, made of
+carefully dressed skins, were tastefully fringed and embroidered with
+tiny white beads and minute disks of copper, like spangles, which, with
+the buff of the dressed skin, made a charming color-study—copper and
+buff—picked out with white. Sometimes small brilliant shells or
+feathers were added to the fringes. An Indian princess, writes one
+chronicler, wore a fair white deerskin with a frontal of white coral
+and pendants of “great but imperfect-colored and worse-drilled
+pearls”—our modern baroque pearls. A chain of linked copper encircled
+her neck; and her maid brought to her a mantle called a “puttawas” of
+glossy blue feathers sewed so thickly and evenly that it seemed like
+heavy purple satin.
+
+A traveller wrote thus of an Indian squaw and brave:—
+
+
+“His wife was very well favored, of medium stature and very bashful.
+She had on her back a long cloak of leather, with the fur side next to
+her body. About her forehead she had a band of white coral. In her ears
+she had bracelets of pearls hanging down to her waist. The rest of her
+women of the better sort had pendants of copper hanging in either ear,
+and some of the children of the King’s brother and other noblemen, had
+five or six in either ear. He himself had upon his head a broad plate
+of gold or copper, for being unpolished we knew not which metal it
+might be, neither would he by any means suffer us to take it off his
+head. His apparel was like his wife’s, only the women wear their hair
+long on both sides of the head, and the men on but one side. They are
+of color yellowish, and their hair black for the most part, and yet we
+saw children who had very fine auburn and chestnut colored hair.”
+
+
+John Josselyn wrote of tawny beauties:—
+
+
+“They are girt about the middle with a Zone wrought with Blue and White
+Beads into Pretty Works. Of these Beads they have Bracelets for the
+Neck and Arms, and Links to hang in their Ears, and a Fair Table
+curiously made up with Beads Likewise to wear before their Breast.
+Their Hair they combe backward, and tye it up short with a Border about
+two Handsfull broad, wrought in works as the Other with their Beads.”
+
+
+Powhatan’s “Habit” still exists. It is in England, in the Tradescant
+Collection which formed the nucleus of the Ashmolean Collection. It was
+probably presented by Captain John Smith himself. It is made of two
+deerskins ornamented with “roanoke” shell-work, about seven feet long
+by five feet wide. Roanoke is akin to wampum, but this is made of West
+Indian shells. The figures are circles, a crude human figure and two
+mythical composite animals. He also wore fine mantles of raccoon skins.
+A conjurer’s dress was simply a girdle with a single deerskin, while a
+great blackbird with outstretched wings was fastened to one ear—a
+striking ornament. I am always delighted to read such proof as this of
+a fact that I have ever known, namely, that the American Indian is the
+most accomplished, the most telling _poseur_ the world has ever known.
+The ear of the Indian man and woman was pierced along the entire outer
+edge and filled with long drops, a fringe of coral, gold, and pearl.
+The wives of Powhatan wore triple strings of great pearls close around
+their throats, and a long string over one shoulder, while their mantles
+were draped to show their full handsome neck and arms. Altogether, with
+their carefully dressed hair, they would have made in full dress a fine
+show in a modern opera-box, and, indeed, the Indian squaws did cause
+vast exhibition of curiosity and delight when they visited London and
+were taken sight-seeing and sight-seen.
+
+As early as 1629 an Indian chief with his wife and son came from Nova
+Scotia to England. Lord Poulet paid them much attention in
+Somersetshire, and Lady Poulet took Lady Squaw up to London and gave
+her a necklace and a diamond, which I suppose she wore with her blue
+and white beads.
+
+Be the story of the saving of John Smith by Pocahontas a myth or the
+truth, it forever lives a beautiful and tender reality in the hearts of
+American children. Pocahontas was not the only Indian squaw who played
+a kindly part in the first colonization of this country. There were
+many, though their deeds and names are forgotten; and there was one
+Indian woman whose influence was much greater and more prolonged than
+was that of Pocahontas, and was haloed with many years of exciting
+adventure as well as romance. Let me recount a few details of her life,
+that you may wonder with me that the only trace of Indian life marked
+indelibly on England was found on the swinging signs of inns known by
+the name of “The Bell Savage,” “La Belle Sauvage,” and even “The Savage
+and Bell.”
+
+This second Indian squaw was a South Carolina neighbor of our beloved
+Pocahontas; she had not, alas, the lovely disposition and noble
+character of Powhatan’s daughter. She was systematically and
+constitutionally mischievous, like a rogue elephant, so I call her a
+rogue squaw. Her name was Coosaponakasee. The name is too long and too
+hard to say with frequency, so we will do as did her English friends
+and foes—call her Mary. Indeed, she was baptized Mary, for she was a
+half-breed, and her white father had her reared like a Christian, had
+her educated like an English girl as far as could be done in the little
+primitive settlement of Ponpon, South Carolina. It will be shown that
+the attempt was not over-successful.
+
+She was a princess, the niece of crafty old Brim, the king of two
+powerful tribes of Georgia Indians, the Creeks and Uchees. In 1715,
+when she was about fifteen years old, a fierce Indian war broke out in
+the early spring, and at the defeat of the Indians she promptly left
+her school and her church and went out into the wilds, a savage among
+savages, preferring defeat and a wild summer in the woods with her own
+people to decorous victory within doors with her fellow Christians.
+
+
+A Woman’s Doublet. A Woman’s Doublet. Mrs. Anne Turner.
+
+The following year an Englishman, Colonel John Musgrove, accompanied by
+his son, went out as a mediator to the Creek Indians to secure their
+friendship, or at any rate their neutrality. The young squaw, Mary,
+served as interpreter, and the younger English pacificator promptly
+proved his amicable disposition by falling in love with her. He did
+what was more unusual, he married her; and soon they set up a large
+trading-house on the Savannah River, where they prospered beyond
+belief. On the arrival of the shipload of emigrants sent out by the
+Trustees of Georgia the English found Mary Musgrove and her husband
+already carrying on a large trade, in securing and transacting which
+she had served as interpreter. When Oglethorpe landed, he at once went
+to her, and asked permission to settle near her trading-station. She
+welcomed him, helped him, interpreted for him, and kept things in
+general running smoothly in the settlement between the English and the
+Indians. The two became close friends, and as long as generous but
+confiding Oglethorpe remained, all went well in the settlement; but in
+time he returned to England, giving her a handsome diamond ring in
+token of his esteem. Her husband died soon after and she removed to a
+new station called Mount Venture. Oglethorpe shortly wrote of her:—
+
+
+“I find that there is the utmost endeavour by the Spaniards to destroy
+her because she is of consequence and in the King’s interests; therefor
+it is the business of the King’s friends to support her; besides which
+I shall always be desirous to serve her out of the friendship she has
+shown me as well as the colony.”
+
+
+In a letter of John Wesley’s written to Lady Oglethorpe, and now
+preserved in the Georgia Historical Society, he refers frequently to
+Mary Musgrove, saying:—
+
+
+“I had with me an interpreter the half-breed, Mary Musgrove, and daily
+had meetings for instruction and prayer. One woman was baptized. She
+was of them who came out of great tribulation, her husband and all her
+three children having been drowned four days before in crossing the
+Ogeechee River. Her happiness in the gospel caused me to feel that,
+like Job, the widow’s heart had been caused to sing for joy. She was
+married again the day following her baptism. I suggested longer days of
+mourning. She replied that her first husband was surely dead; and that
+his successor was of much substance, owning a cornfield and gun. I
+doubt the interpreter Mary Musgrove, that she is yet in the valley and
+shadow of darkness.”
+
+
+One can picture the excitement of the Choctaw squaw to lose her husband
+and children, and to get another husband and religion in a week’s time.
+Her reply that her husband “was surely dead” bears a close resemblance
+to the hackneyed story of the response to a charivari query of the
+Dutch bridegroom who had been a widower but a week, “Ain’t my vife as
+deadt as she ever vill be?”
+
+Her usefulness continued. If a “talk” were had with the Indians in
+Savannah, Fredonia, or any other settlement, Mary had to be sent for;
+if Indian warriors had to be hired, to keep an army against the Spanish
+or marauding Indians, Mary obtained them from her own people. If land
+were bought of the Indians, Mary made the trade. She soon married
+Captain Matthews, who had been sent out with a small English troop to
+protect her trading-post; he also speedily died, leaving her free,
+after alliances with trade and war, to find a third husband in
+ecclesiastical circles, in the person of one Chaplain Bosomworth, a
+parson of much pomposity and ambition, and of liberal education without
+a liberal brain. He had had a goodly grant of lands to prompt and
+encourage him in his missionary endeavors; and he was under the
+direction and protection of the Society for the Propagation of the
+Gospel. His mission was to convert the Indians, and he began by
+marrying one; he then proceeded to break the law by bringing in the
+first load of negro slaves in that colony, a trade which was positively
+prohibited by the conditions and laws of the colony. When his illegal
+traffic was stopped, he got his wife to send in back claims to the
+colony of Georgia for $25,000 as interpreter, mediator, agent, etc.,
+for the English. She had already been paid about a thousand dollars.
+This demand being promptly refused, the hitherto pacific and friendly
+Mary, edged on by that sorry specimen of a parson, her husband, began a
+series of annoying and extraordinary capers. She declared herself
+empress of Georgia, and after sending her half-brother, a full-blooded
+Indian, as an advance-courier, she came with a body of Indians to
+Savannah. The Rev. Thomas Bosomworth, decked in full canonical robes,
+headed the Indians by the side of his empress wife, dressed in Indian
+costume; and an imposing procession they made, with plenty of
+theatrical color. At first the desperate colonists thought of seizing
+Mary and shipping her off to England to Oglethorpe, but this notion was
+abandoned. As the English soldiers were very few at that special time,
+and the Indian warriors many, we can well believe that the colonists
+were well scared, the more so that when the Indians were asked the
+reason of their visit, “their answers were very trifling and very
+dark.” So a feast was offered them, but Mary and her brother refused to
+come and to eat; and the dinner was scarcely under way when more armed
+Indians appeared from all quarters in the streets, running up and down
+in an uproar, and the town was in great confusion. The alarm drums were
+beaten, and it was reported that the Indians had cut off the head of
+the president as they sat together at the feast. Every man in the
+colony turned out in full arms for duty, the women and children
+gathered in groups in their homes in unspeakable terror. Then the
+president and his assistants who had been at the dinner, and who had
+gone unarmed to show their friendly intent, did what they should have
+done in the beginning, seized that disreputable specimen of an English
+missionary, the Rev. Mr. Bosomworth, and put him in prison; and we
+wonder they kept their hands off him as long as they did. Still trying
+to settle the matter without bloodshed, the president asked the Indian
+chiefs to adjourn to his house “to drink a glass of wine and talk the
+matter over.” Into this conference came Mary, bereft of her husband,
+raging like a madwoman, threatening the lives of the magistrates,
+swearing she would annihilate the colony. “A fig for your general,”
+screamed she, “you own not a foot of land in this colony. The whole
+earth is mine.” Whereupon the Empress of Georgia, too, was placed under
+military guard.
+
+Then a harassing week of apprehension ensued; the Indians were fed, and
+parleyed with, and reasoned with, and explained to. At last Mary’s
+brother Malatche, at a conference, presented as a final demand a paper
+setting forth plainly the claims of the Indians. The sequel of this
+presentation is almost comic. The paper was so evidently the production
+of Bosomworth, and so wholly for his own personal benefit and not for
+that of the Indians, and the astonishment of the president and his
+council was so great at his vast and open assumption, that the Indians
+were bewildered in turn by the strange and unexpected manner of the
+white men upon reading the paper; and childishly begged to have the
+paper back again “to give to him who made it.” A plain exposition of
+Bosomworth’s greed and craft followed, and all seemed amicably
+explained and settled, and the Creeks offered to smoke the pipe of
+peace; when in came Mary, having escaped her guards, full of rum and of
+rancor. The president said to her in a low voice that unless she ceased
+brawling and quarrelling he would at once put her into close
+confinement; she turned in a rage to her brother, and translated the
+threat. He and every Indian in the room sprang to their feet, drew
+tomahawks, and for a short time a complete massacre was imminent. Then
+the captain of the guard, Captain Noble Jones, who had chafed under all
+this explaining diplomacy, lost his much-tried patience, and like a
+brave and fearless English soldier ordered the Indians to surrender
+arms. Though far greater in number than the English, they yielded to
+his intrepidity and wrath; and the following night and day they sneaked
+out of the town, as ordered, by twos and threes.
+
+For one month this fright and commotion and expense had existed; and at
+last wholly alone were left the two contemptible malcontents and
+instigators of it all. Mr. and Mrs. Bosomworth thereafter ate very
+humble pie; he begged sorely and cried tearfully to be forgiven; and he
+wailed so deeply and promised so broadly that at last the two were
+publicly pardoned.
+
+Yet, after all, they had their own way; for they soon went to London
+and cut an infinitely fine figure there. Mary was the top of the mode,
+and there Bosomworth managed to get for his wife lands and coin to the
+amount of about a hundred thousand dollars.
+
+The prosperous twain returned to America in triumph, and built a
+curious and large house on an island they had acquired; in it the
+Empress did not long reign; at her death the Rev. Mr. Bosomworth
+married his chambermaid.
+
+Such is the sorry tale of the Indian squaw and the English parson, a
+tale the more despicable because, though she had been reared in English
+ways, baptized in the English faith, had been the friend of English men
+and women, and married three English husbands; yet when fifty years old
+she returned at vicious suggestion with promptitude and fierceness to
+violent savage ways, to incite a massacre of her friends. And that
+suggestion came not from her barbarian kin, but from an English
+gentleman—a Christian priest.
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER
+
+_“Things farre-fetched and deare-bought are good for Ladies.”_
+
+—“Arte of English Poesie,” G. PUTTENHAM, 1589.
+
+
+_“I honour a Woman that can honour herself with her Attire. A good Text
+deserves a Fair Margent.”_
+
+—“The Simple Cobbler of Agawam,” J. WARD, 1713.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER
+
+
+T
+
+
+here was a certain family prominent in affairs in the seventeenth and
+eighteenth centuries, with members resident in England, New England,
+and the Barbadoes. They were gentlefolk—and gentle folk; they were of
+birth and breeding; and they were kindly, tender, affectionate to one
+another. They were given to much letter-writing, and better still to
+much letter-keeping. Knowing the quality of their letters, I cannot
+wonder at either habit; for the prevalence of the letter-keeping was
+due, I am sure, to the perfection of the writing. Their letters were
+ever lively in diction, direct and lucid in description, and widely
+varied in interest; therefore they were well worthy of preservation,
+simply for the owner’s re-reading. They have proved so for all who have
+brushed the dust from the packages and deciphered the faded words.
+Moreover, these letters are among the few family letters of our two
+centuries which convey, either to the original reader or to his
+successor of to-day, anything that could, by most generous construction
+or fullest imagination, be deemed equivalent to what we now term News.
+
+Of course their epistles contained many moral reflections and ample
+religious allusions and aspirations; and they even transcribed to each
+other, in full, long Biblical quotations with as much exactness and
+length as if each deemed his correspondent a benighted heathen, with no
+Bible to consult, instead of being an equally pious kinsman with a
+Bible in every room of his house.
+
+Their name was Hall. The heads of the family in early colonial days
+were the merchants John Hall and Hugh Hall; these surnames have
+continued in the family till the present time, as has the cunning of
+hand and wit of brain in letter-writing, even into the seventh and
+eighth generation, as I can abundantly testify from my own private
+correspondence. I have quoted freely in several of my books from old
+family letters and business letter-books of the Hall family. Many of
+these letters have been intrusted to me from the family archives;
+others, especially the business letters, have found their way, through
+devious paths, to our several historical societies; where they have
+been lost in oblivion, hidden through churlishness, displayed in pride,
+or offered in helpfulness, as suited the various humors of their
+custodians. To the safe, wise, and generous guardianship of the
+American Antiquarian Society fell a collection of letters of the years
+1663 to 1684, written from London by the merchant John Hall to his
+mother, Madam Rebekah Symonds, who, after a fourth matrimonial
+venture,—successful, as were all her marriages,—was living, in what
+must have seemed painful seclusion to any Londoner, in the struggling
+little New England hamlet of Ipswich, Massachusetts.
+
+I wish to note as a light-giving fact in regard to these letters that
+the Halls were as happy in marrying as in letter-writing, and as
+assiduous. They married early; they married late. And by each marriage
+increased wonderfully either the number of descendants, or of
+influential family connections, who were often also business
+associates.
+
+Madam Symonds had four excellent husbands, more than her share of good
+fortune. She married Henry Byley in 1636; John Hall in 1641; William
+Worcester in 1650; and Deputy Governor Symonds in 1663. She was,
+therefore, in 1664, scarcely more than a bride (if one may be so termed
+for the fourth time), when many costly garments were sent to her by her
+devoted and loving son, John Hall; she was then about forty-eight years
+of age. Her husband, Governor Symonds, was a gentle and noble old
+Puritan gentleman, a New Englishman of the best type; a Christian of
+missionary spirit who wrote that he “could go singing to his grave” if
+he felt sure that the poor benighted Indians were won to Christ. His
+stepson, John Hall, never failed in respectful and affectionate
+messages to him and sedately appropriate gifts, such as “men’s knives.”
+Governor Symonds had two sons and six married daughters by two—or
+three—previous marriages. He died in Boston in 1678.
+
+A triangle of mutual helpfulness and prosperity was formed by England,
+New England, and the Barbadoes in this widespread relationship of the
+Hall family in matrimony, business, kin, and friendly allies. England
+sent to the Barbadoes English trading-stuffs and judiciously cheap and
+attractive trinkets. The islands sent to New England sugar and
+molasses, and also the young children born in the islands, to be
+educated in Boston schools ere they went to English universities, or
+were presented in the English court and London society. There was one
+school in Boston established expressly for the children of the
+Barbadoes planters. You may read in a later chapter upon the dress of
+old-time children of some naughty grandchildren of John Hall who were
+sent to this Boston school and to the care of another oft-married
+grandmother. In this triangle, New England returned to the Barbadoes
+non-perishable and most lucrative rum and salt codfish—codfish for the
+many fast-days of the Roman Catholic Church; New England rum to
+exchange with profit for slaves, coffee, and sugar. The Barbadoes and
+New England sent good, solid Spanish coin to England, both for
+investment and domestic purchases; and England sent to New England what
+is of value to us in this book—the latest fashions.
+
+
+A Puritan Dame. A Puritan Dame.
+
+When I ponder on the conditions of life in Ipswich at the time these
+letters were written—the few good houses, the small amount of tilled
+land, the entire lack of all the elegancies of social life; when I
+think upon the proximity and ferocity of the Indian tribes and the ever
+present terror of their invasion; when I picture the gloom, the dread,
+the oppression of the vast, close-lying, primeval forest,—then the rich
+articles of dress and elaborate explanation of the modes despatched by
+John Hall to his mother would seem more than incongruous, they would be
+ridiculous, did I not know what a factor dress was in public life in
+that day.
+
+Poor Madam Symonds dreaded deeply lest The Plague be sent to her in her
+fine garments from London; and her dutiful son wrote her to have no
+fear, that he bought her finery himself, in safe shops, from reliable
+dealers, and kept all for a month in his own home where none had been
+infected. But she must have had fear of disaster and death more
+intimately menacing to her home than was The Plague.
+
+She had seen the career of genial Master Rowlandson, a neighbor’s son,
+full of naughtiness, fun, and life. While an undergraduate at Harvard
+College he had written in doggerel what was termed pompously a
+“scandalous libell,” and he had pinned it on the door of Ipswich
+Meeting-house, along with the tax-collector’s and road-mender’s notices
+and the announcement of intending marriages, and the grinning wolves’
+heads brought for reward. For this prank he had been soundly whipped by
+the college president on the College Green; but it did not prevent his
+graduating with honor at the head of his class. He was valedictorian,
+class-orator, class-poet—in fact, I may say that he had full honors. (I
+have to add also that in his case honors were easy; for his class, of
+the year 1652, had but one graduate, himself.) The gay, mischievous boy
+had become a faithful, zealous, noble preacher to the Puritan church in
+the neighboring town of Lancaster; and in one cruel night, in 1676, his
+home was destroyed, the whole town made desolate, his parishioners
+slaughtered, and his wife, Esther Rowlandson, carried off by the savage
+red-men, from whom she was bravely rescued by my far-off grandfather,
+John Hoar. Read the thrilling story of her “captivation” and rescue,
+and then think of Madam Symonds’s finery in her gilt trunk in the
+near-by town. For four years the valley of the Nashua—blood-stained,
+fire-blackened—lay desolate and unsettled before Madam Symonds’s eyes;
+then settlers slowly crept in. But for fifty years Ipswich was not
+deemed a safe home nor free from dread of cruel Indians; “Lovewell’s
+War” dragged on in 1726. But mantuas and masks, whisks and drolls, were
+just as eagerly sought by the governor’s wife as if Esther Rowlandson’s
+capture had been a dream.
+
+There was a soured, abusive, intolerant old fellow in New England in
+the year 1700, a “vituperative epithetizer,” ready to throw mud on
+everything around him (though not working—to my knowledge—in cleaning
+out any mud-holes). He was not abusive because he was a Puritan, but
+because “it was his nature to.” He styled himself a “Simple Cobbler,”
+and he announced himself “willing to Mend his Native Country,
+lamentably tattered both in the upper Leather and in the Sole, with all
+the Honest Stitches he can take,” but he took out his aid in loud
+hammering of his lapstone and noisy protesting against all other
+footwear than his own. I fancy he thought himself another Stubbes. I
+know of no whole soles he set, nor any holes he mended, and his
+“Simple” ideas are so involved in expression, in such twisted
+sentences, and with such “strange Ink-pot termes” and so many Latin
+quotations and derivatives, that I doubt if many sensible folk knew
+what he meant, even in his own day. His words have none of the
+directness, the force, the interest that have the writings of old
+Stubbes. Such words as nugiperous, perquisquilian, ill-shapen-shotten,
+nudistertian, futulous, overturcased, quaematry, surquedryes,
+prodromie, would seem to apply ill to woman’s attire; they really fall
+wide of the mark if intended as weapons, but it was to such vain dames
+as the governor’s wife that the Simple Cobbler applied them. Some of
+the ministers of the colony, terrified by the Indian outbreaks,
+gloomily held the vanity and extravagance of dames and goodwives as
+responsible for them all. Others, with broader minds, could discern
+that both the open and the subtle influence of good clothes was needed
+in the new community. They gave an air of cheerfulness, of substance,
+of stability, which is of importance in any new venture. For the
+governor’s wife to dress richly and in the best London modes added
+lustre to the governor’s office. And when the excitement had quieted
+and the sullen Indian sachem and his tawny braves stalked through the
+little town in their gay, barbaric trappings, they were sensible that
+Madam Symonds’s embroidered satin manteau was rich and costly, even if
+they did not know what we know, that it was the top of the mode.
+
+Governor Symonds’s home in Ipswich was on the ground where the old
+seminary building now stands; but the happy married pair spent much of
+the time at his farm-house on Argilla Farm, on Heart-Break Hill, by
+Labor-in-vain Creek, which was also in Ipswich County. This lonely
+farm, so sad in name, was the only dwelling-place in that region; it
+was so remote that when Indian assault was daily feared, the general
+court voted to station there a guard of soldiers at public expense
+because the governor was “so much in the country’s service.” He says
+distinctly, however, concerning the bargain in the purchase of Argilla
+Farm, that his wife was well content with it.
+
+
+Penelope Winslow. Penelope Winslow.
+
+There were also intimate personal considerations which would apparently
+render so luxurious a wardrobe unnecessary and unsuitable. The age and
+health of the wearer might generally be held to be sufficient reason
+for indifference to such costly, delicate, and gay finery. When Madam
+Symonds was fifty-eight years old, in 1674, her son wrote, “Oh, Good
+Mother, grieved am I to learn that Craziness creeps upon you, yet am I
+glad that you have Faith to look beyond this Life.” Craziness had
+originally no meaning of infirmity of mind; it meant feebleness,
+weakness of body. Her letters evidently informed him of failing health,
+but even that did not hinder the export of London finery.
+
+Governor Symonds’s estate at his death was under £;3000, and Argilla
+Farm was valued only at £;150; yet Madam had a “Manto” which is marked
+distinctly in her son’s own handwriting as costing £;30. She had money
+of her own, and estates in England, of which John Hall kept an account,
+and with the income of which he made these purchases. This manteau was
+of flowered satin, and had silver clasps and a rich pair of embroidered
+satin sleeves to wear with it; it was evidently like a sleeveless cape.
+We must always remember that seventeenth-century accounts must be
+multiplied by five to give twentieth-century values. Even this
+valuation is inadequate. Therefore the £;30 paid for the manteau would
+to-day be £;150; $800 would nearly represent the original value. As it
+was sent in early autumn it was evidently a winter garment, and it must
+have been furred with sable to be so costly.
+
+In the early inventories of all the colonies “a pair of sleeves” is a
+frequent item, and to my delight—when so seldom color is given—I have
+more than once a pair of green sleeves.
+
+“Thy gown was of the grassy green
+   Thy sleeves of satin hanging by,
+ Which made thee be our harvest queen
+   And yet thou wouldst not love me.
+     Green sleeves was all my joy,
+     Green sleeves was my delight,
+     Green sleeves was my Heart of Gold,
+     And who but Lady Green-sleeves!”
+
+
+Let me recount some of “My Good Son’s labors of love and pride in
+London shops” for his vain old mother. She had written in the year 1675
+for lawn whisks, but he is quick to respond that she has made a very
+countrified mistake.
+
+
+“Lawn whisks is not now worn either by Gentil or simple, young or old.
+Instead whereof I have bought a shape and ruffles, what is now the ware
+of the bravest as well as the young ones. Such as goe not with naked
+neckes, wear a black whisk over it. Therefore I have not only bought a
+plain one you sent for, but also a Lustre one, such as are most in
+fashion.”
+
+
+John Hall’s “lustre for whisks” was of course lustring, or lutestring,
+a soft half-lustred pure silk fabric which was worn constantly for two
+centuries. He sent his mother many yards of it for her wear.
+
+We have ample proof that these black whisks were in general wear in
+England. In an account-book of Sarah Fell of Swarthmoor Hall in 1673,
+are these items: “a black alamode whiske for Sister Rachel; a round
+whiske for Susanna; a little black whiske for myself.” This English
+Quaker sends also a colored stuff manteo to her sister; scores of
+English inventories of women’s wardrobes contain precisely similar
+items to those bought by Son Hall. And it is a tribute to the devotion
+of American women to the rigid laws of fashion, even in that early day,
+to find that all whisks, save black whisks and lustring ones, disappear
+at this date from colonial inventories of effects.
+
+She wrote to him for a “side of plum colored leather” for her shoes.
+This was a matter of much concern to him, not at all because this
+leather was a bit gay or extravagant, or frail wear for an elderly
+grandmother, but because it was not the very latest thing in leather.
+He writes anxiously:—
+
+
+“Secondly you sent for Damson-Coloured Spanish Leather for Womans
+Shoes. But there is noe Spanish Leather of that Colour; and Turkey
+Leather is coloured on the grain side only, both of which are out of
+use for Women’s Shoes. Therefore I bought a Skin of Leather that is all
+the mode for Women’s Shoes. All that I fear is, that it is too thick.
+But my Coz. Eppes told me yt such thin ones as are here generally used,
+would by rain and snow in N. England presently be rendered of noe
+service and therefore persuaded me to send this, which is stronger than
+ordinary. And if the Shoemaker fit it well, may not be uneasy.”
+
+
+Perhaps his anxious offices and advices in regard to fans show more
+curiously than other quotations, the insistent attitude of the New
+England mind in regard to the latest fashions. I cannot to-day conceive
+why any woman, young or old, could have been at all concerned in
+Ipswich in 1675 as to which sort of fan she carried, or what was
+carried in London, yet good Son John writes:—
+
+
+“As to the feathered fan, I should also have found it in my heart to
+let it alone, because none but very grave persons (and of them very
+few) use it. That now ’tis grown almost as obsolete as Russets and more
+rare to be seen than a yellow Hood. But the Thing being Civil and not
+very dear, Remembering that in the years 64 and 68, if I mistake not,
+you had Two Fans sent, I have bought one now on purpose for you, and I
+hope you will be pleased.”
+
+
+Evidently the screen-fan of Pocahontas’s day was no longer a novelty.
+His mother had had far more fans that he remembered. In 1664 two
+“Tortis shell fanns” had gone across seas; one had cost five shillings,
+the other ten shillings. The following year came a black feather fan
+with silver handle, and two tortoise-shell fans; in 1666 two more
+tortoise-shell fans; in 1688 another feather fan, and so on. These many
+fans may have been disposed of as gifts to others, but the entire trend
+of the son’s letters, as well as his express directions, would show
+that all these articles were for his mother’s personal use. When finery
+was sent for madam’s daughter, it was so specified; in 1675, when the
+daughter became a bride, Brother John sent her her wedding gloves, ever
+a gift of sentiment. A pair of wedding gloves of that date lies now
+before me. They are mitts rather than gloves, being fingerless. They
+are of white kid, and are twenty-two inches long. They are very wide at
+the top, and have three drawing-strings with gilt tassels; these are
+run in welts about two inches apart, and were evidently drawn into
+puffs above the elbow when worn. A full edging of white Swiss lace and
+a pretty design of dots made in gold thread on the back of the hand,
+form altogether a very costly, elegant, and decorative article of
+dress. I should fancy they cost several pounds. Men’s gloves were
+equally rich. Here are the gold-fringed gloves of Governor Leverett
+worn in 1640.
+
+
+Gold-fringed Gloves of Governor Leverett. Gold-fringed Gloves of
+Governor Leverett.
+
+Of course the only head-gear of Madam Symonds for outdoor wear was a
+hood. Hats were falling in disfavor. I shall tell in a special chapter
+of the dominance at this date and the importance of the French hood.
+Its heavy black folds are shown in the portraits of Rebecca Rawson
+(here), of Madam Simeon Stoddard (here), and on other heads in this
+book. Such a hood probably covered Madam Symonds’s head heavily and
+fully, whene’er she walked abroad; certainly it did when she rode a
+pillion-back. She had other fashionable hoods—all the fashionable
+hoods, in fact, that were worn in England at that time; hoods of
+lustring, of tiffany, of “bird’s-eye”—precisely the same as had Madam
+Pepys, and one of spotted gauze, the last a pretty vanity for summer
+wear. We may remember, in fact, that Madam Symonds was a
+contemporary—across-seas—of Madam Pepys, and wore the same garments;
+only she apparently had richer and more varied garments than did that
+beautiful young woman whose husband was in the immediate employ of the
+king.
+
+Arthur Abbott was the agent in Boston through whom this London finery
+and flummery was delivered to Madam Symonds in safety; and it is an
+amusing side-light upon social life in the colony to know that in 1675
+Abbott’s wife was “presented before the court” for wearing a silk hood
+above her station, and her husband paid the fine. Knowing womankind,
+and knowing the skill and cunning in needlework of women of that day, I
+cannot resist building up a little imaginative story around this
+“presentment” and fine. I believe that the pretty young woman could not
+put aside the fascination of all the beautiful London hoods consigned
+to her husband for the old lady at Ipswich; I suspect she tried all the
+finery on, and that she copied one hood for herself so successfully and
+with such telling effect that its air of high fashion at once caught
+the eye and met with the reproof of the severe Boston magistrates. She
+was the last woman, I believe, to be fined under the colonial sumptuary
+laws of Massachusetts.
+
+The colors of Madam Symonds’s garments were seldom given, but I doubt
+that they were “sad-coloured” or “grave of colour” as we find Governor
+Winthrop’s orders for his wife. One lustring hood was brown; and
+frequently green ribbons were sent; also many yards of scarlet and pink
+gauze, which seem the very essence of juvenility. Her son writes a list
+of gifts to her and the members of her family from his own people:—
+
+
+“A light violet-colored Petti-Coat is my wife’s token to you. The
+Petti-Coat was bought for my wife’s mother and scarcely worn. This my
+wife humbly presents to you, requesting your acceptance of it, for your
+own wearing, as being Grave and suitable for a Person of Quality.”
+
+
+Even a half-worn petticoat was a considerable gift; for petticoats were
+both costly and of infinite needlework. Even the wealthiest folk
+esteemed a gift of partly worn clothing, when materials were so rich.
+Letters of deep gratitude were sent in thanks.
+
+The variety of stuffs used in them was great. Some of these are wholly
+obsolete; even the meaning of their names is lost. In an inventory of
+1644, of a citizen of Plymouth there was, for instance, “a petticoate
+of phillip &; cheny” worth £;1. Much of the value of these petticoats
+was in the handwork bestowed upon them; they were both embroidered and
+elaborately quilted. About 1730, in the Van Cortlandt family, a woman
+was paid at one time £;2 5s. for quilting, a large amount for that day.
+Often we find items of fifteen or twenty shillings for quilting a
+petticoat.
+
+
+Embroidered Petticoat Band. Embroidered Petticoat Band.
+
+The handsomest petticoats were of quilted silk or satin. No pattern was
+so elaborate, no amount of work so large, that it could dismay the
+heart or tire the fingers of an eighteenth-century needlewoman. One
+yellow satin petticoat has a lining of stout linen. These are quilted
+together in an exquisite irregular design of interlacing ribbons,
+slender vines, and long, narrow leaves, all stuffed with white cord.
+Though the general effect of this pattern is very regular, an
+examination shows it is not a set design, but must have been drawn as
+well as worked by the maker. Another petticoat has a curious design
+made with two shades of blue silk cord sewed on in a pattern. Another
+of infinite work has a design outlined in tiny rolls of satin.
+
+These petticoats had many flat trimmings; laces of silver, gold, or
+silk thread were used, galloons and orrice. Tufts of fringed silk were
+dotted in clusters and made into fly-fringe. Bridget Neal, writing in
+1685 to her sister, says:—
+
+
+“I am told las is yused on petit-coats. Three fringes is much yused,
+but they are not set on the petcot strait, but in waves; it does not
+look well, unless all the fringes yused that fashion is the plane
+twisted fring not very deep. I hear some has nine fringes sett in this
+fashion.”
+
+
+Anxiety to please his honored mother, and desire that she should be
+dressed in the top of the mode, show in every letter of John Hall:—
+
+
+“I bought your muffs of my Coz. Jno. Rolfe who tells me they are worth
+more money than I gave for them. You desired yours Modish yet Long; but
+here with us they are now much shorter. These were made a Purpose for
+you. As to yr Silk Flowered Manto, I hope it may please you; Tis not
+the Mode to lyne you now at all; but if you like to have it soe, any
+silke will serve, and may be done at yr pleasure.”
+
+
+In 1663 Pepys notes (with his customary delight at a new fashion,
+mingled with fear that thereby he might be led into more expense) that
+ladies at the play put on “vizards which hid the whole face, and had
+become a great fashion; and _so_ to the Exchange to buy a Vizard for my
+wife.” Soon he added a French mask, which led to some unpleasant
+encounters for Mrs. Pepys with dissolute courtiers on the street. The
+plays in London were then so bold and so bad that we cannot wonder at
+the masks of the play-goers. The masks concealed constant blushes; but
+wearers and hearers did not stay away, for neither eyes nor ears were
+covered by the mask. Busino tells of a woman at the theatre all in
+yellow and scarlet, with two masks and three pairs of gloves, worn one
+pair over the other. Suddenly out came disappointing Queen Anne with
+her royal command that the plays be refined and reformed, and then
+masks were abandoned.
+
+
+Blue Brocade Gown and Quilted Satin Petticoat. Blue Brocade Gown and
+Quilted Satin Petticoat.
+
+Masks were in those years in constant wear in the French court and
+society, as a protection to the complexion when walking or riding.
+Sometimes plain glass was fitted in the eye-holes. French masks had
+wires which fastened behind the ears, or a mouthpiece of silver; or
+they had an ingenious and simple stay in the form of two strings at the
+corners of the mouth-opening of the mask. These strings ended in a
+silver button or glass bead. With a bead held firmly in either corner
+of her mouth, the mask-wearer could talk. These vizards are seen in old
+English wood-cuts, often hanging by the side, fastened to the belt with
+a small cord or chain. They brought forth the bitter denunciations of
+the old Puritan Stubbes. He writes in his _Anatomie of Abuses_:—
+
+
+“When they vse to ride abroad, they haue visors made of ueluet (or in
+my iudgment they may rather be called inuisories) wherewith they couer
+all their faces, hauing holes made in them agaynst their eies, whereout
+they looke. So that if a man that knew not their guise before, shoulde
+chaunce to meete one of theme, he would thinke he mette a monster or a
+deuill; for face he can see none, but two broad holes against their
+eyes with glasses in them.”
+
+
+Masks were certainly worn to a considerable extent in America. As early
+as 1645, masks were forbidden in Plymouth, Massachusetts, “for improper
+purposes.” When you think of the Plymouth of that year, its few houses
+and inhabitants, its desperate struggle to hold its place at all as a
+community, the narrow means of its citizens, the comparatively scant
+wardrobes of the wives and daughters, this restriction as to
+mask-wearing seems a grim jest. They were for sale in Salem and Boston,
+black velvet masks worth two shillings each; but these towns were more
+flourishing than Plymouth. And New York dames had them, and the
+planters’ wives of Virginia and South Carolina.
+
+I suppose Madam Symonds wore her mask when she mounted on a pillion
+behind some strong young lad, and rode out to Argilla Farm.
+
+A few years later than the dates when Madam Symonds was ordering these
+fashionable articles of dress from England a rhyming catalogue of a
+lady’s toilet was written by John Evelyn and entitled, _Mundus
+Muliebris or a Voyage to Mary-Land_; it might be a list of Madam
+Symonds’s wardrobe. Some of the lines run:—
+
+“One gown of rich black silk, which odd is
+Without one coloured embroidered boddice.
+Three manteaux, nor can Madam less
+Provision have for due undress.
+Of under-boddice three neat pair
+Embroidered, and of shoes as fair;
+Short under petticoats, pure fine,
+Some of Japan stuff, some of Chine,
+With knee-high galoon bottomed;
+Another quilted white and red,
+With a broad Flanders lace below.
+Three night gowns of rich Indian stuff;
+Four cushion-cloths are scarce enough.
+A manteau girdle, ruby buckle,
+And brilliant diamond ring for knuckle.
+Fans painted and perfumed three;
+Three muffs of ermine, sable, grey.”
+
+
+Other articles of personal and household comfort were gathered in
+London shops by her dutiful son and sent to Madam Symonds. The list is
+full of interest, and helps to fill out the picture of daily life. He
+despatched to her cloves, nutmegs, spices, eringo roots, “coronation”
+and stock-gilly-flower seed, “colly flower seed,” hearth brushes (these
+came every year), silver whistles and several pomanders and
+pomander-beads, bouquet-glasses (which could hardly have been the bosom
+bottles which were worn later), necklaces, amber beads, many and varied
+pins, needles, silk lacings, kid gloves, silver ink-boxes, sealing-wax,
+gilt trunks, fancy boxes, painted desks, tape, ferret, bobbin, bone
+lace, calico, gimp, many yards of ducape, lustring, persian, and other
+silk stuffs—all these items of transport show the son’s devoted
+selection of the articles his mother wished. Gowns seem never to have
+been sent, but manteaus, mantles, and “ferrandine” cloaks appear
+frequently. Of course there are some articles which cannot be
+positively described to-day, such as the “shape, with ruffles” and
+“double pleated drolls” and “lace drolls” which appear several times on
+the lists. These “drolls” were, I believe, the “drowlas” of Madame de
+Lange, in New Amsterdam. “Men’s knives” occasionally were sent, and
+“women’s knives” many times. These latter had hafts of ivory, agate,
+and “Ellotheropian.” This Ellotheropian or Alleteropeain or
+Illyteropian stone has been ever a great puzzle to me until in another
+letter I chanced to find the spelling Hellotyropian; then I knew the
+real word was the Heliotropium of the ancients, our blood-stone. It was
+a favorite stone of the day not only for those fancy-handled knives,
+but for seals, finger-rings and other forms of ornament.
+
+A few books were on the list,—a Greek Lexicon ordered as a gift for a
+student; a very costly Bible, bound in velvet, with silver clasps, the
+expense of which was carefully detailed down to the Indian silk for the
+inner-end leaves; “_Dod on Commandments_—my Ant Jane said you had a
+fancie for it, and I have bound it in green plush for you.” Fancy any
+one having a fancy for Dod on anything! and fancy Dod in green plush
+covers!
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS
+
+
+_This day the King began to put on his vest; and I did see several
+persons of the House of Lords and Commons too, great courtiers who are
+in it, being a long cassock close to the body, of long cloth, pinked
+with white silk under it, and a coat over it, and the legs ruffled with
+white ribbon like a pigeon’s leg; and upon the whole I wish the King
+may keep it, for it is a very fine and handsome garment._
+
+—“Diary,” SAMUEL PEPYS, October 8, 1666.
+
+
+_Fashion then was counted a disease and horses died of it._
+
+—“The Gulls Hornbook,” ANDREW DEKKER, 1609.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS
+
+
+B
+
+
+oth word and garment—coat—are of curious interest, one as a
+philological study, the other as an evolution. A singular transfer of
+meaning from cot or cote, a house and shelter, to the word coat, used
+for a garment, is duplicated in some degree in chasuble, casule, and
+cassock; the words body, and bodice; and corse or corpse, and corselet
+and corset. The word coat, meaning a garment for men for covering the
+upper part of the body, has been in use for centuries; but of very
+changeable and confusing usage, for it also constantly meant petticoat.
+The garment itself was a puzzle, for many years; most bewildering of
+all the attire which was worn by the first colonists was the elusive,
+coatlike over-garment called in shipping-lists, tailors’ orders,
+household inventories, and other legal and domestic records a doublet,
+a jerkin, a jacket, a cassock, a paltock, a coat, a horseman’s coat, an
+upper-coat, and a buff-coat. All these garments resembled each other;
+all closed with a single row of buttons or points or hooks and eyes.
+There was not a double-breasted coat in the _Mayflower_, nor on any man
+in any of the colonies for many years; they hadn’t been invented. Let
+me attempt to define these several coatlike garments.
+
+
+A Plain Jerkin. A Plain Jerkin.
+
+In 1697 a jerkin was described by Randle Holme as “a kind of jacket or
+upper doublet, with four skirts or laps.” These laps were made by slits
+up from the hem to the belt-line, and varied in number, but four on
+each side was a usual number, or there might be a slit up the back, and
+one on each hip, which would afford four laps in all. Mr. Knight, in
+his notes on Shakespere’s use of the word, conjectures that the jerkin
+was generally worn over the doublet; but one guess is as good as
+another, and I guess it was not. I agree, however, with his surmise
+that the two garments were constantly confounded; in truth it is not a
+surmise, it is a fact. Shakespere expressed the situation when he said
+in _The Two Gentlemen of Verona_, “My jerkin is a doublet;” and I fancy
+there was slight difference in the garments, save that in the beginning
+the doublet was always of two thicknesses, as its name indicates; and
+it was wadded.
+
+As the jerkin was often minutely slashed, it could scarcely have been
+wadded; though it may have had a lining for special display through the
+slashes.
+
+A jerkin had no skirts in our modern sense of the word,—a piece set on
+at the waist-line,—nor could it on that account be what we term a coat,
+nor was it a coat, nor was it what the colonists deemed a coat.
+
+The old Dutch word is _jurkken_, and it was often thus spelt, which has
+led some to deem it a Dutch name and article of dress. But then it was
+also spelt _irkin, ircken, jorken, jorgen, erkyn_, and _ergoin_—which
+are not Dutch nor any other tongue. Indeed, under the name _ergoin_ I
+wonder that we recognize it or that it knew itself. A jerkin was often
+of leather like a buff-coat, but not always so.
+
+Sir Richard Saltonstall wears a buff-coat, with handsome sword-belt, or
+trooping-belt, and rich gloves. His portrait is shown here. As we look
+at his fine countenance we think of Hawthorne’s words:—
+
+
+“What dignitary is this crossing to greet the Governor. A stately
+personage in velvet cloak—with ample beard and a gold band across his
+breast. He has the authoritative port of one who has filled the highest
+civic position in the first of cities. Of all men in the world, we
+should least expect to meet the Lord Mayor of London—as Sir Richard
+Saltonstall has been once and again—in a forest-bordered settlement in
+the western wilderness.”
+
+
+A fine buff-coat and a buff-coat sleeve are given in the chapter upon
+Armor.
+
+All the early colonial inventories of wearing-apparel contain doublets.
+Richard Sawyer died in 1648 in Windsor, Connecticut; he was a plain
+average “Goodman Citizen.” A part of his apparel was thus inventoried:—
+
+£;	 s.	d. 1 musck-colour’d cloth doublitt &; breeches	1 1
+bucks leather doublitt		12 1 calves leather doublitt		6 1
+liver-colour’d doublitt &; jacket &; breeches		7 1 haire-colour’d
+doublitt &; jackett &; breeches 		5 1 paire canvas
+drawers		1	6 1 olde coate. 1 paire old gray breeches		5
+1 stuffe jackett		2	6
+
+William Kempe of “Duxborrow,” a settler of importance, died in 1641.
+His wardrobe was more varied, and ample and rich. He left two
+buff-coats and leather doublets with silver buttons; cloth doublets,
+three horsemen’s coats, “frize jerkines,” three cassocks, two cloaks.
+
+Of course we turn to Stubbes to see what he can say for or against
+doublets. His outcry here is against their size; and those who know the
+“great pease-cod-bellied doublets” of Elizabeth’s day will agree with
+him that they look as if a man were wholly gone to “gourmandice and
+gluttonie.”
+
+
+A Doublet. A Doublet.
+
+Stubbes has a very good list of coats and jerkins in which he gives
+incidentally an excellent description by which we may know a
+mandillion:—
+
+
+“Their coates and jerkins as they be diuers in colours so be they
+diuers in fashions; for some be made with collars, some without, some
+close to the body, some loose, which they call mandilians, couering the
+whole body down to the thigh, like bags or sacks, that were drawne ouer
+them, hiding the dimensions and lineaments of the body. Some are
+buttoned down the breast, some vnder the arme, and some down the backe,
+some with flaps over the brest, some without, some with great sleeves,
+some with small, some with none at all, some pleated and crested behind
+and curiously gathered and some not.”
+
+
+An old satirical print, dated 1644, gives drawings of men of all the
+new varieties of religious belief and practices which “pestered
+Christians” at the beginning of the century. With the exception of the
+Adamite, whose garb is that of Adam in the Garden of Eden, all ten wear
+doublets. These vary slightly, much less than in Stubbes’s list of
+jerkins. One is open up the back with buttons and button-loops. Another
+has the “four laps on a side,” showing it is a jerkin. Another is
+opened on the hips; one is slit at back and hips. All save one from
+neck to hem are buttoned in front with a single row of buttons, with no
+lapells, collar, or cuffs, and no “flaps,” no ornaments or trimming. A
+linen shirt-cuff and a plain band finish sleeves and neck of all save
+the Arminian, who wears a small ruff. Not one of these doublets is a
+graceful or an elegant garment. All are shapeless and over-plain; and
+have none of the French smartness that came from the spreading
+coat-skirts of men’s later wear.
+
+The welts or wings named in the early sumptuary laws were the pieces of
+cloth set at the shoulder over the arm-hole where body and sleeves
+meet. The welt was at first a sort of epaulet, but grew longer and
+often set out, thus deserving its title of wings.
+
+A dress of the times is thus described:—
+
+
+“His doublet was of a strange cut, the collar of it was up so high and
+sharp as it would cut his throat. His wings according to the fashion
+now were as little and diminutive as a Puritan’s ruff.”
+
+
+A note to this says that “wings were lateral projections, extending
+from each shoulder”—a good round sentence that by itself really means
+nothing. Ben Jonson calls them “puff-wings.”
+
+There is one positive rule in the shape of doublets; they were always
+welted at the arm-hole. Possibly the sleeves were sometimes sewn in,
+but even then there was always a cap, a welt or a hanging sleeve or
+some edging. In the illustrations of the _Roxburghe Ballads_ there is
+not a doublet or jerkin on man, woman, or child but is thus welted.
+Some trimming around the arm-hole was a law. This lasted until the coat
+was wholly evolved. This had sleeves, and the shoulder-welt vanished.
+
+These welts were often turreted or cut in squares. You will note this
+turreted shoulder in some form on nearly all the doublets given in the
+portraits displayed in this book—both on men and women. For doublets
+were also worn by women. Stubbes says, “Though this be a kind of attire
+proper only to a man, yet they blush not to wear it.” The old print of
+the infamous Mrs. Turner given here shows her in a doublet.
+
+
+The high borne Prince Iames Dvke of Yorke borne October = the 13.1633
+James, Duke of York.
+
+Another author complains:—
+
+
+“If Men get up French standing collars Women will have the French
+standing collar too: if Dublets with little thick skirts, so short none
+are able to sit upon them, women’s foreparts are thick skirted too.”
+
+
+Children also had doublets and this same shoulder-cap at the arm-hole;
+their little doublets were made precisely like those of their parents.
+Look at the childish portrait of Lady Arabella Stuart, the portrait
+with the doll. Her fat little figure is squeezed in a doublet which has
+turreted welts like those worn by Anne Boleyn and by Pocahontas (shown
+here). Often a button was set between each square of the welt, and the
+sleeve loops or points could be tied to these buttons and thus hold up
+the detached undersleeves. The portrait of Sir Richard Saltonstall
+vaguely shows these buttons. Nearly all these garments-jerkins,
+jackets, doublets, buff-coats, paltocks, were sleeveless, especially
+when worn as the uppermost or outer garment. Holinshed tells of
+“doublets full of jagges and cuts and sleeves of sundry colours.” These
+welts were “embroidered, indented, waved, furred, chisel-punched,
+dagged,” as well as turreted. On one sleeve the turreted welt varied,
+the middle square or turret was long, the others each two inches
+shorter. Thus the sleeve-welt had a “crow-step” shape. A charming
+doublet sleeve of Elizabeth’s day displayed a short hanging sleeve that
+was scarce more than a hanging welt. This was edged around with crystal
+balls or buttons. Other welts were scalloped, with an eyelet-hole in
+each scallop, like the edge of old ladies’ flannel petticoats.
+Othersome welts were a round stuffed roll. This roll also had its day
+around the petticoat edge, as may be seen in the petticoat of the child
+Henry Gibbes. This roll still appears on Japanese kimonos.
+
+We are constantly finding complaints of the unsuitably ambitious attire
+of laboring folk in such sentences as this:—
+
+
+“The plowman, in times past content in russet, must now-a-daies have
+his doublett of the fashion with wide cuts; his fine garters of
+Granada, to meet his Sis on Sunday. The fair one in russet frock and
+mockaldo sleeves now sells a cow against Easter to buy her silken
+gear.”
+
+
+Velvet jerkins and damask doublets were for men of dignity and estate.
+Governor Winthrop had two tufted velvet jerkins.
+
+Jerkins and doublets varied much in shape and detail:—
+
+
+“These doublets were this day short-waisted, anon, long-bellied;
+by-and-by-after great-buttoned, straight-after plain-laced, or else
+your buttons as strange for smallness as were before for bigness.”
+
+
+
+
+An Embroidered Jerkin. An Embroidered Jerkin.
+
+In Charles II’s time at the May-pole dances still appear the old,
+welted doublets. Jack may have worn Cicily’s doublet, and Peg may have
+borrowed Will’s for all the difference that can be seen. The man’s
+doublet did not ever have long, hanging sleeves, however, in the
+seventeenth century, while women wore such sleeves.
+
+Sometimes the sleeves were very large, as in the Bowdoin portrait
+(here). The great puffs were held out by whalebones and rolls of
+cotton, and “tiring-sleeves” of wires, a fashion which has obtained for
+women at least seven times in the history of English costume. Gosson
+describes the vast sleeves of English doublets thus;—
+
+“This Cloth of Price all cut in ragges,
+    These monstrous bones that compass arms,
+These buttons, pinches, fringes, jagges,
+    With them he (the Devil) weaveth woeful harms.”
+
+
+We have seen how bitterly the slashing of good cloth exercised good
+men. The “cutting in rags” was slashing.
+
+A favorite pattern of slashing is in small, narrow slits as shown in
+the portrait here of James Douglas. These jerkins are of leather, and
+the slashes are of course ornamental, and are also for health and
+comfort, as those know who wear chamois jackets with perforated holes
+throughout them, or slashes if we choose to call them so. They permit a
+circulation of the skin and a natural condition. These jerkins are
+slashed in curious little cuts, “carved of very good intail,” as was
+said of King Henry’s jerkin, which means, in modern English, cut in
+very good designs. And I presume, being of buff leather, the slashes
+were simply cut, not overcast or embroidered as were some wool stuffs.
+
+The guard was literally a guard to the seam, a strip of galloon, silk,
+lace, velvet, put on over the seam to protect and strengthen it.
+
+The large openings or slashes were called panes. Fynes Mayson says,
+“Lord Mountjoy wore jerkins and round hose with laced panes of russet
+cloth.” The Swiss dress was painted by Coryat as doublet and hose of
+panes intermingled of red and yellow, trimmed with long puffs of blue
+and yellow rising up between the panes. It was necessarily a costly
+dress. Of course this is the same word with the same meaning as when
+used in the term a “pane of glass.”
+
+The word “pinches” refers to an elaborate pleating which was worn for
+years; it lingered in America till 1750, and we have revived it in what
+we term “accordion pleating.” The seventeenth-century pinching was
+usually applied to lawn or some washable stuff; and there must have
+been a pinching, a goffering machine by which the pinching was done to
+the washed garment by means of a heated iron.
+
+
+John Lilburne. John Lilburne.
+
+Pinched sleeves, pinched partlets, pinched shirts, pinched wimples,
+pinched ruffs, are often referred to, all washable garments. The good
+wife of Bath wore a wimple which was “y-pinched full seemly.” Henry
+VIII wore a pinched habit-shirt of finest lawn, and his fine, healthy
+skin glowed pink through the folds of the lawn after his hearty
+exercise at tennis and all kinds of athletic sports, for which he had
+thrown off his doublet. We are taught to deem him “a spot of grease and
+blood on England’s page.” There was more muscle than fat in him; he
+could not be restrained from constant, violent, dangerous exercise;
+this was one of the causes of the admiration of his subjects.
+
+The pinched partlet made a fine undergarment for the slashed doublet.
+
+So full, so close, were these “pinchings,” that one author complained
+that men wearing them could not draw their bowstrings well. It was said
+that the “pinched partlet and puffed sleeves” of a courtier would
+easily make a lad a doublet and cloak.
+
+In my chapter on Children’s Dress I tell of the pinched shirt worn by
+Governor Bradford when an infant, and give an illustration of it.
+
+Aglets or tags were a pretty fashion revived for women’s wear three
+years ago. Under Stuart reign, these aglets were of gold or silver, and
+set with precious stones such as pear-shaped pearls. For ordinary wear
+they were of metal, silk, or leather. They secured from untwisting or
+ravelling the points which were worn for over a century; these were
+ties or laces of ribbon, or woollen yarn or leather, decorated with
+tags or aglets at one end. Points were often home-woven, and were
+deemed a pretty gift to a friend. They were employed instead of buttons
+in securing clothes, and were used by the earliest settlers, chiefly, I
+think, as ornaments at the knee or for holding up the stockings in the
+place of garters. They were regarded as but foolish vanities, and were
+one of the articles of finery tabooed in early sumptuary laws. In 1651
+the general court of Massachusetts expressed its “utter detestation and
+dislike that men of meane condition, education and calling should take
+upon them the garbe of gentlemen by the wearinge of poynts at the
+knees.” Fashion was more powerful than law; the richly trimmed,
+sashlike garters quickly displaced the modest points.
+
+The Earl of Southampton, friend of Shakespere and of Virginia, as
+pictured on a later page, wears a doublet with agletted points around
+his belt, by which breeches and doublet are tied together. This is a
+striking portrait. The face is very noble. A similar belt was the
+favorite wear of Charles I.
+
+Martin Frobisher, the hero of the Armada, wears a jerkin fastened down
+the front with buttons and aigletted points. (See here.) I suppose,
+when the fronts of the jerkin were thoroughly joined, each button had a
+point twisted or tied around it. Frobisher’s lawn ruff is a modest and
+becoming one. This portrait in the original is full length. The
+remainder of the costume is very plain; it has no garters, no
+knee-points, no ribbons, no shoe-roses. The foot-covering is Turkish
+slippers precisely like the Oriental slippers which are imported
+to-day.
+
+The Earl of Morton (here) wore a jerkin of buff leather curiously
+pinked and slashed. Fulke Greville’s doublet (here) has a singular puff
+around the waist, like a farthingale.Here is shown a doublet of the
+commonest form; this is worn by Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire.
+The portrait is painted by Sir Antonio More—the portrait of one artist
+by another, and a very fine one, too.
+
+Another garment, which is constantly named in lists of clothing, was
+the cassock. Steevens says a cassock “signifies a horseman’s loose
+coat, and is used in that sense by the writers of the age of
+Shakespere.” It was apparently a garment much like a doublet or jerkin,
+and the names were used interchangeably. I think the cassock was longer
+than the doublet, and without “laps.” The straight, long coats shown on
+the gentlemen in the picture here were cassocks. The name finally
+became applied only to the coat or gown of the clergy. In the will of
+Robert Saltonstall, made in 1650, he names a “Plush Cassock,” but cloth
+cassocks were the commonest wear.
+
+There were other names for the doublet which are now difficult to place
+precisely. In the reign of Henry VIII a law was passed as to men’s wear
+of velvet in their sleeveless cotes, jackets, and jupes. This word jupe
+and its ally jupon were more frequently heard in women’s lists; but
+jump, a derivative, was man’s wear. Randle Holme said: “A jump
+extendeth to the thighs; is open and buttoned before, and may have a
+slit half way behind.” It might be with or without sleeves—all this
+being likewise true of the doublet. From this jump descended the modern
+jumper and the eighteenth century jumps—what Dr. Johnson defined in one
+of his delightsome struggles with the names of women’s attire, “Jumps:
+a kind of loose or limber stays worn by sickly ladies.”
+
+
+Colonel William Legge. Colonel William Legge.
+
+Coats were not furnished to the Massachusetts or Plymouth planters, but
+those of Piscataquay in New Hampshire had “lined coats,” which were
+simply doublets like all the rest.
+
+In 1633 we find that Governor Winthrop had several dozen scarlet coats
+sent from England to “the Bay.” The consigner wrote, “I could not find
+any Bridgwater cloth but Red; so all the coats sent are red lined with
+blew, and lace suitable; which red is the choise color of all.” These
+coats of double thickness were evidently doublets.
+
+The word “coat” in the earliest lists must often refer to a waistcoat.
+I infer this from the small cost of the garments, the small amount of
+stuff it took to make them, and because they were worn with “Vper
+coats”—upper coats. Raccoon-skin and deerskin coats were many; these
+were likewise waistcoats, and the first lace coats were also
+waistcoats. Robert Keayne of Boston had costly lace coats in 1640,
+which he wore with doublets—these likewise were waistcoats.
+
+As years go on, the use of the word becomes constant. There were
+“moose-coats” of mooseskin. Josselyn says mooseskin made excellent
+coats for martial men. Then come papous coats and pappous coats. These
+I inferred—since they were used in Indian trading—were for pappooses’
+wear, pappoose being the Indian word for child. But I had a painful
+shock in finding in the _Traders’ Table of Values_ that “3 Pappous
+Skins equal 1 Beaver”—so I must not believe that pappoose here means
+Indian baby. Match-coats were originally of skins dressed with the fur
+on, shaped in a coat like the hunting-shirt. The “Duffield Match-coat”
+was made of duffels, a woollen stuff, in the same shape. Duffels was
+called match-cloth. The word “coat” here is not really an English word;
+it is matchigode, the Chippewa Indian name for this garment.
+
+
+[Illustration: Sir Thomas Orchard, Knight]
+
+We have in old-time letters and accounts occasional proof that the coat
+of the Puritan fathers was not at all like the shapely coat of our day.
+We have also many words to prove that the coat was a doublet which, as
+old Stubbes said, could be “pleated, or crested behind and curiously
+gathered.”
+
+The tailor of the Winthrop family was one John Smith; he made garments
+for them all, father, mother, children, and children’s wives, and
+husband’s sisters, nieces, cousins, and aunts. He was a good Puritan,
+and seems to have been much esteemed by Winthrop. One letter
+accompanying a coat runs: “Good Mr. Winthrop, I have, by Mr. Downing’s
+direction sent you a coat, a sad foulding colour without lace. For the
+fittness I am a little vncerteyne, but if it be too bigg or too little
+it is esie to amend, vnder the arme to take in or let out the lyning;
+the outside may be let out in the gathering or taken in also without
+any prejudice.” This instruction would appear to prove not only that
+the coat was a doublet, “curiously gathered” but that the “fittness”
+was more than “uncerteyne” of the coats of the Fathers. Since even such
+wildly broad directions could not “prejudice” the coat, we may assume
+that Governor Winthrop was more easily suited as to the cut of his
+apparel, than would have been Sir Walter Raleigh or Sir Philip Sidney.
+
+Though Puritan influence on dress simplified much of the flippery and
+finery of the days of Elizabeth and James, and the refining elegance of
+Van Dyck gave additional simplicity as well as beauty to women’s
+attire, which it retained for many years, still there lingered
+throughout the seventeenth century, ready to spring into fresh life at
+a breath of encouragement, many grotesqueries of fashion in men’s dress
+which, in the picturesque sneer of the day, were deemed meet only for
+“a changeable-silk-gallant.” At the restoration of the crown, courtiers
+seemed to love to flaunt frivolity in the faces of the Puritans.
+
+One of these trumperies came through the excessive use of ribbons, a
+use which gave much charm to women’s dress, but which ever gave to
+men’s garments a finicky look. Beribboned doublets came in the
+butterfly period, between worm and chrysalis, between doublet and coat;
+beribboned breeches were eagerly adopted.
+
+Shown here is the copy of an old print, which shows the dress of an
+estimable and sensible gentleman, Sir Thomas Orchard, with ribbon-edged
+garments and much galloon or laces. It is far too much trimmed to be
+rich or elegant. See also _The English Antick_ on this page, from a
+rare broadside. His tall hat is beribboned and befeathered; his face is
+patched, ribbons knot his love-locks, his breeches are edged with
+agletted ribbons, and “on either side are two great bunches of ribbons
+of several colors.” Similar knots are at wrists and belt. His boots are
+fringed with lace, and so wide that he “straddled as he went along
+singing.”
+
+
+The English Antick. The English Antick.
+
+Ribboned sleeves like those of Colonel Legge, here, were a pretty
+fashion, but more suited to women’s wear than to men’s.
+
+George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, tells us what he thought of such
+attire. He wrote satirically:—
+
+
+“If one have store of ribands hanging about his waist or his knees and
+in his hat; of divers colours red, white black or yellow, O! then he is
+a brave man. He hath ribands on his back, belly and knees, and his hair
+powdered, this is the array of the world. Are not these that have got
+ribands hanging about their arms, hands, back, waist, knees, hats, like
+fiddlers’ boys? And further if one get a pair of breeches like a coat
+and hang them about with points, and tied up almost to the middle, a
+pair of double cuffs on his hands, and a feather in his cap, here is a
+gentleman!”
+
+
+These beribboned garments were a French mode. The breeches were the
+“rhingraves” of the French court, which were breeches made wholly of
+loops of ribbons—like two ribboned petticoats. They caught the eye of
+seafaring men; we know that Jack ashore loves finery. We are told of
+sea-captains wearing beribboned breeches as they came into quiet little
+American ports, and of one English gallant landing from a ship in sober
+Boston, wearing breeches made wholly from waist to knee of overlapping
+loops of gay varicolored ribbon. It is recorded that “the boys did
+wonder and call out thereat,” and they “were chided therefor.” It is
+easy to picture the scene: the staring boys, born in Boston, of Puritan
+parents, of dignified dress, and more familiar with fringes on the
+garments of savage Indians than on the breeches of English gentlemen;
+we can see the soberly reproving minister or schoolmaster looking with
+equal disapproval on the foppish visitor and the mannerless boys; and
+the gayly dressed ship’s captain, armed with self-satisfaction and
+masculine vanity, swaggering along the narrow streets of the little
+town. It mattered not what he wore or what he did, a seafaring man was
+welcome. I wonder what the governor thought of those beribboned
+breeches! Perhaps he ordered a pair from London for himself,—of
+sad-colored ribbons,—offering the color as a compromise for the
+over-gayety of the ribbons. Randle Holme gave in 1658 three
+descriptions of the first petticoat-breeches, with drawings of each.
+One had the lining lower than the breeches, and tied in about the
+knees; ribbons extended halfway up the breeches, and ribbons hung out
+from the doublet all about the waistband. The second had a single row
+of pointed ribbons hanging all around the lower edge of the breeches;
+these were worn with stirrup-hose two yards wide at the top, tied by
+points and eyelet-holes to the breeches. The third had stirrup-hose
+tied to the breeches, and another pair of hose over them turned down at
+the calf of the leg, and the ribbons edged the stirrup-hose. His
+drawings of them are foolish things—not even pretty. He says ribbons
+were worn first at the knees, then at the waist at the doublet edge,
+then around the neck, then on the wrists and sleeves. These
+knee-ribbons formed what Dryden called in 1674 “a dangling
+knee-fringe.” It is difficult for me to think of Dryden living at that
+period of history. He seems to me infinitely modern in comparison with
+it. Evelyn describes the wearer of such a suit as “a fine silken
+thing”; and tells that the ribbons were of “well-chosen colours of red,
+orange, and blew, of well-gummed satin, which augured a happy fancy.”
+
+In 1672 a suit of men’s clothes was made for the beautiful Duchess of
+Portsmouth to wear to a masquerade; this was with “Rhingrave breeches
+and cannons.” The suit was of dove-colored silk brocade trimmed with
+scarlet and silver lace and ribbons.
+
+The ten yards of brocade for this beautiful suit cost £;14. The
+Rhingrave breeches were trimmed with thirty-six yards of figured
+scarlet ribbon and thirty-six yards of plain satin ribbon and
+thirty-six of scarlet taffeta ribbon; this made one hundred and eight
+yards of ribbon—a great amount—an unusable amount. I fear the tailor
+was not honest. There were also as trimmings twenty-two yards of
+scarlet and silver vellum lace for guards; six dozen scarlet and silver
+vellum buttons, smaller breast buttons, narrow laces for the waistcoat,
+and silver twist for buttonholes. The suit was lined with lutestring.
+There was a black beaver hat with scarlet and silver edging, and lace
+embroidered scarlet stockings, a rich belt and lace garters, and point
+lace ruffles for the neck, sleeves, and knees. This suit had an
+interlining of scarlet camlet; and lutestring drawers seamed with
+scarlet and silver lace. The total bill of £;59 would be represented
+to-day by $1400,—a goodly sum,—but it was a goodly suit. There is a
+portrait of the Duchess of Richmond in a similar suit, now at
+Buckingham Palace. Portraits of the Duke of Bedford, and of George I,
+painted by Kneller, are almost equally beribboned. The one of the king
+is given facing this page to show his ribbons and also the
+extraordinary shoes, which were fashionable at this date.
+
+
+George I. George I.
+
+“Indians gowns,” or banyans, were for a century worn in England and
+America, and are of enough importance to receive a separate chapter in
+this book. The graceful folds allured all men and all portrait
+painters, just as the fashionable new china allured all women. The
+banyan was not the only Oriental garment which had become of interest
+to Englishmen. John Evelyn described in his _Tyrannus or the Mode_ the
+“comeliness and usefulnesse” of all Persian clothing; and he noted with
+justifiable gratification that the new attire which had recently been
+adopted by King Charles II was “a comely dress after ye Persian mode.”
+He says modestly, “I do not impute to this my discourse the change
+which soone happened; but it was an identity I could not but take
+notice of.”
+
+Rugge in his _Diurnal_ describes the novel dress which was assumed by
+King Charles and the whole court, due notice of a subject of so much
+importance having been given to the council the previous month; and
+notice of the king’s determination “never to change it,” which he kept
+like many another of his promises and resolutions.
+
+
+“It is a close coat of cloth pinkt with a white taffety under the
+cutts. This in length reached the calf of the leg; and upon that a
+sercoat cutt at the breast, which hung loose and shorter than the vest
+six inches. The breeches the Spanish cutt; and buskins some of cloth,
+some of leather but of the same colour as the vest or garment; of never
+the like garment since William the Conqueror.”
+
+
+
+
+Three Cassock Sleeves and a Buff-coat Sleeve. Three Cassock Sleeves and
+a Buff-coat Sleeve.
+
+Pepys we have seen further explained that it was all black and white,
+the black cassock being close to the body. “The legs ruffled with black
+ribands like a pigeon’s leg, and I wish the King may keep it for it is
+a fine and handsome garment.” The news which came to the English court
+a month later that the king of France had put all his footmen and
+servants in this same dress as a livery made Pepys “mightie merry, it
+being an ingenious kind of affront, and yet makes me angry,” which is
+as curious a frame of mind as even curious Pepys could record. Planché
+doubts this act of the king of France; but in _The Character of a
+Trimmer_ the story is told _in extenso_—that the “vests were put on at
+first by the King to make Englishmen look unlike Frenchmen; but at the
+first laughing at it all ran back to the dress of French gentlemen.”
+The king had already taken out the white linings as “’tis like a
+magpie;” and was glad to quit it I do not doubt. Dr. Holmes—and the
+rest of us—have looked askance at the word “vest” as allied in usage to
+that unutterable contraction, pants. But here we find that vest is a
+more classic name than waistcoat for this dull garment—a garment with
+too little form or significance to be elegant or interesting or
+attractive.
+
+
+Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington. Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington.
+
+Though this dress was adopted by the whole court, and though it was an
+age of portrait painting,—and surely no more delicate flattery to the
+king’s taste could be given than to have one’s portrait painted in the
+king’s chosen vestments,—yet but one portrait remains which is stated
+to display this dress. This is the portrait of Henry Bennet, Earl of
+Arlington—it is shown on this page. This was painted by the king’s own
+painter, Sir Peter Lely. I must say that I cannot find much resemblance
+to Pepys’s or Rugge’s description, unless the word “pinked” means cut
+out in an all-over pattern like Italian cut-work; then this inner vest
+might be of “cloth pinkt with a white taffeta under the coat.” The
+surcoat is of black lined with white. Of course the sash is present,
+but not in any way distinctive. It was a characteristic act in the Earl
+to be painted in this dress, for he was a courtier of courtiers,
+perhaps the most rigid follower of court rules in England. He was “by
+nature of a pleasant and agreeable humour,” but after a diplomatic
+journey on the continent he assumed an absurd formality of manner which
+was much ridiculed by his contemporaries. His letters show him to be
+exceeding nice in his phraseology; and he prided himself upon being the
+best-bred man in court. He was a trimmer, “the chief trickster of the
+court,” a member of the Cabal, the first _a_ in the word; and he was
+heartily hated as well as ridiculed. When a young man he received a cut
+on the nose in a skirmish in Ireland; he never let his prowess be
+forgotten, but ever after wore a black patch over the scar—it may be
+seen in his portrait. When his fellow courtiers wished to gibe at him,
+they stuck black patches on their noses and with long white staves
+strutted around the court in imitation of his pompous manner. He is a
+handsome fellow, but too fat—which was not a curse of his day as of the
+present.
+
+
+Figures from Funeral Procession of the Duke of Albemarle, 1670. Figures
+from Funeral Procession of the Duke of Albemarle, 1670.
+
+Of course the king changed his dress many times after this solemn
+assumption of a lifelong garment. It was a restless, uncertain, trying
+time in men’s dress. They had lost the doublet, and had not found the
+skirted coat, and stood like the Englishman of Andrew Borde—ready to
+take a covering from any nation of the earth. I wonder the coat ever
+survived—that it did is proof of an inherent worth. Knowing the nature
+of mankind and the modes, the surprise really is that the descendants
+of Charles and all English folk are not now wearing shawls or peplums
+or anything save a coat and waistcoat.
+
+Some of the sturdy rich members of the governors’ cabinets and the
+assemblies and some of our American officers who had been in his
+Majesty’s army, or had served a term in the provincial militia, and had
+had a hot skirmish or two with marauding Indians on the Connecticut
+River frontier, and some very worthy American gentlemen who were not
+widely renowned either in military or diplomatic circles and had never
+worn armor save in the artist’s studio,—these were all painted by Sir
+Godfrey Kneller and by Sir Peter Lely, and by lesser lights in art,
+dressed in a steel corselet of the artist, and wearing their own good
+Flanders necktie and their own full well-buckled wig. There were some
+brave soldiers, too, who were thus painted, but there were far more in
+armor than had ever smelt smoke of powder. It was a good comfortable
+fashion for the busy artist. It must have been much easier when you had
+painted a certain corselet a hundred times to paint it again than to
+have to paint all kinds of new colors and stuffs. And the portrait in
+armor was almost always kitcat, and that disposed of the legs, ever a
+nuisance in portrait-painting.
+
+While the virago-sleeves were growing more and more ornamental, and
+engageants were being more and more worn by women, men’s sleeves
+assumed a most interesting form. The long coat, or cassock, had sleeves
+which were cut off at the elbow with great cuffs and were worn over
+enormous ruffled undersleeves; and they were even cut midway between
+shoulder and elbow, were slashed and pointed and beribboned to a
+wonderful degree. This lasted but a few years, the years when the
+cassock was shaping itself definitely into a skirted coat. Perhaps the
+height of ornamentation in sleeves was in the closing years of the
+reign of Charles II, though fancy sleeves lingered till the time of
+George I.
+
+
+Earl of Southampton. Earl of Southampton.
+
+In an account of the funeral of George Monck, the Duke of Albemarle, in
+the year 1670, the dress is very carefully drawn of those who walked in
+the procession. (Some of them are given here.) It may be noted, first,
+that all the hats are lower crowned and straight crowned, not like a
+cone or a truncated cone, as crowns had been. The _Poor Men_ are in
+robes with beards and flowing natural hair; they wear square bands, and
+carry staves. The _Clergymen_ wear trailing surplices; but these are
+over a sort of cassock and breeches, and they all have high-heeled
+shoes with great roses. They also have their own hair. The _Doctors of
+Physic_ are dressed like the _Gentlemen and Earls_, save that they wear
+a rich robe with bands at the upper arm, over the other fine dress. The
+gentlemen wear a cassock, or coat, which reaches to the knee; the
+pockets are nearly as low as the knee. These cassocks have lapels from
+neck to hem, with a long row of gold buttons which are wholly for
+ornament, the cassock never being fastened with the buttons. The
+sleeves reach only to the elbow and turn back in a spreading cuff; and
+from the elbow hang heavy ruffles and under-sleeves, some of rich lace,
+others of embroidery. The gentlemen and earls wear great wigs.
+
+This coat was called a surcoat or tunic. The under-coat, or waistcoat,
+was also called a vest, as by Charles the king.
+
+From this vest, or surcoat, was developed a coat, with skirts, such as
+had become, ere the year 1700, the universal wear of English and
+American men. Its first form was adopted about at the close of the
+reign of Charles II. By 1688 Quaker teachers warned their younger sort
+against “cross-pockets on men’s coats, side slopes, over-full skirted
+coats.”
+
+In an old play a man threatens a country lad, “I’ll make your buttons
+fly.” The lad replies, “All my buttons is loops.” Some garments,
+especially leather ones, like doublets, which were cumbersome to
+button, were secured by loops. For instance, in spatterdashes, a row of
+holes was set on one side, and of loops on the other. To fasten them,
+one must begin at the lower loop, pass this through the first hole,
+then put the second loop through that first loop and the second hole,
+and so on till the last loop was fastened to the breeches by buckle and
+strap or large single button. From these loops were developed frogs and
+loops.
+
+Major John Pyncheon had, in 1703, a “light coulour’d cape-coat with
+Frogs on it.” In the _New England Weekly Journal_ of 1736 “New
+Fashion’d Frogs” are named; and later, “Spangled Scalloped &; Brocaded
+Frogs.”
+
+Though these jerkins and mandillions and doublets which were furnished
+to the Bay colonists were fastened with hooks and eyes, buttons were
+worn also, as old portraits and old letters prove. John Eliot ordered
+for traffic with the Indians, in 1651, three gross of pewter buttons;
+and Robert Keayne, of Boston, writing in 1653, said bitterly that a
+“haynous offence” of his had been selling buttons at too large
+profit—that they were gold buttons and he had sold them for two
+shillings ninepence a dozen in Boston, when they had cost but two
+shillings a dozen in London (which does not seem, in the light of our
+modern profits on imported goods, a very “haynous” offence). He also
+added with acerbity that “they were never payd for by those that
+complayned.”
+
+Buttonholes were a matter of ornament more than of use; in fact, they
+were never used for closing the garment after coats came to be worn.
+They were carefully cut and “laid around” in gay colors, embroidered
+with silver and gold thread, bound with vellum, with kid, with velvet.
+We find in old-time letters directions about modish buttonholes, and
+drawings even, in order that the shape may be exactly as wished. An
+English contemporary of John Winthrop’s has tasselled buttonholes on
+his doublet.
+
+Various are the reasons given for the placing of the two buttons on the
+back of a man’s coat. One is that they are a survival of buttons which
+were used on the eighteenth-century riding-coat. The coat-tails were
+thus buttoned up when the wearer was on horseback. Another is that they
+were used for looping back the skirts of the coats; it is said that
+loops of cord were placed at the corners of the said skirts.
+
+A curious anecdote about these two buttons on the back of the coat is
+that a tribe of North American Indians, deep believers in the value of
+symbolism, refused to heed a missionary because he could not explain to
+them the significance of these two buttons.
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+RUFFS AND BANDS
+
+_“Fashion has brought in deep ruffs and shallow ruffs, thick ruffs and
+thin ruffs, double ruffs and no ruffs. When the Judge of the quick and
+the dead shall appear he will not know those who have so defaced the
+fashion he hath created.”_
+
+—Sermon, JOHN KING, Bishop of London, 1590.
+
+
+“Now up aloft I mount unto the Ruffe
+Which into foolish Mortals pride doth puffe;
+Yet Ruffe’s antiquitie is here but small—
+Within these eighty Tears not one at all
+For the 8th Henry, as I understand
+Was the first King that ever wore a Band
+And but a Falling Band, plaine with a Hem
+All other people know no use of them.”
+
+—“The Prayse of Clean Linnen,” JOHN TAYLOR, the “Water Poet,” 1640.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+RUFFS AND BANDS
+
+
+W
+
+
+e have in this poem of the old “Water Poet” a definite statement of the
+date of the introduction of ruffs for English wear. We are afforded in
+the portraiture given in this book ample proof of the fall of the ruff.
+
+
+A Bowdoin Portrait. A Bowdoin Portrait.
+
+Like many of the most striking fashions of olden times, the ruff was
+Spanish. French gentlemen had worn frills or ruffs about 1540; soon
+after, these appeared in England; by the date of Elizabeth’s accession
+the ruff had become the most imposing article of English men’s and
+women’s dress. It was worn exclusively by fine folk; for it was too
+frail and too costly for the common wear of the common people, though
+lawn ruffs were seen on many of low degree. A ruff such as was worn by
+a courtier contained eighteen or nineteen yards of fine linen lawn. A
+quarter of a yard wide was the fashionable width in England. Ruffs were
+carefully pleated in triple box-plaits as shown in the Bowdoin portrait
+here. Then they were bound with a firm neck-binding.
+
+This carefully made ruff was starched with good English or Dutch
+starch; fluted with “setting sticks” of wood or bone, to hold each
+pleat up; then fixed with struts—also of wood—placed in a manner to
+hold the pleats firmly apart; and finally “seared” or goffered with
+“poking sticks” of iron or steel, which, duly heated, dried the
+stiffening starch. To “do up” a formal ruff was a wearisome, difficult,
+and costly precess. Women of skill acquired considerable fortunes as
+“gofferers.”
+
+Stubbes tells us further of the rich decoration of ruffs with gold,
+silver, and silk lace, with needlework, with openwork, and with purled
+lace. This was in Elizabeth’s day. John Winthrop’s ruff (here) is edged
+with lace; in general a plain ruff was worn by plain gentlemen; one may
+be seen on Martin Frobisher (here). Rich lace was for the court. Their
+great cost, their inconvenience, their artificiality, their size, were
+sure to make ruffs a “reason of offence” to reformers. Stubbes gave
+voice to their complaints in these words:—
+
+
+“They haue great and monstrous ruffes, made either of cambrike,
+holland, lawne, or els of some other the finest cloth that can be got
+for money, whereof some be a quarter of a yarde deepe, yea, some more,
+very few lesse, so that they stande a full quarter of a yearde (and
+more) from their necks hanging ouer their shoulder points in steade of
+a vaile.”
+
+
+Still more violent does he grow over starch:—
+
+
+“The one arch or piller whereby his (the Devil’s) kyngdome of great
+ruffes is vnderpropped, is a certaine kind of liquid matter, whiche
+they call starch, wherein the deuill hath willed them to washe and dive
+their ruffes well, whiche, beeying drie, will then stande stiff and
+inflexible about their necks.
+
+“The other piller is a certaine device made of wiers, crested for the
+purpose; whipped over either with gold thred, silver, or silke, and
+this he calleth a supportasse or vnderpropper; this is to bee applied
+round about their neckes under the ruffe, upon the out side of the
+bande, to beare up the whole frame and bodie of the ruffe, from
+fallying and hangying doune.”
+
+
+Starch was of various colors. We read of “blue-starch-women,” and of
+what must have been especially ugly, “goose-green starch.” Yellow
+starch was most worn. It was introduced from France by the notorious
+Mrs. Turner. (See here.)
+
+Wither wrote thus of the varying modes of dressing the neck:—
+
+“Some are graced by their Tyres
+As their Quoyfs, their Hats, their Wyres,
+One a Ruff cloth best become;
+Falling bands allureth some;
+And their favours oft we see
+Changèd as their dressings be.”
+
+
+The transformation of ruff to band can be seen in the painting of King
+Charles I. The first Van Dyck portrait of him shows him in a moderate
+ruff turned over to lie down like a collar; the lace edge formed itself
+by the pleats into points which developed into the lace points
+characteristic of Van Dyck’s later pictures and called by his name.
+
+Evelyn, describing a medal of King Charles I struck in 1633, says, “The
+King wears a falling band, a new mode which has succeeded the
+cumbersome ruff; but neither do the bishops nor the Judges give it up
+so soon.” Few of the early colonial portraits show ruffs, though the
+name appears in many inventories, but “playne bands” are more
+frequently named than ruffs. Thus in an Inventory of William Swift,
+Plymouth, 1642, he had “2 Ruff Bands and 4 Playne Bands.” The “playne
+band” of the Puritans is shown in this portrait of William Pyncheon,
+which is dated 1657.
+
+
+William Pyncheon. William Pyncheon.
+
+The first change from the full pleated ruff of the sixteenth century
+came in the adoption of a richly laced collar, unpleated, which still
+stood up behind the ears at the back of the head. Often it was wired in
+place with a supportasse. This was worn by both men and women. You may
+see one here, on the neck of Pocahontas, her portrait painted in 1616.
+This collar, called a standing-band, when turned down was known as a
+falling-band or a rebato.
+
+The rich lace falling-band continued to be worn until the great flowing
+wig, with long, heavy curls, covered the entire shoulders and hid any
+band; the floating ends in front were the only part visible. In time
+they too vanished. Pepys wrote in 1662, “Put on my new lace band and so
+neat; am resolved my great expense shall be lace bands, and it will set
+off anything else the more.”
+
+I scarcely need to point out the falling-band in its various shapes as
+worn in America; they can be found readily in the early pages of this
+book. It was a fashion much discussed and at first much disliked; but
+the ruff had seen its last day—for men’s wear, when the old fellows who
+had worn it in the early years of the seventeenth century dropped off
+as the century waned. The old Bowdoin gentleman must have been one of
+the last to wear this cumbersome though stately adjunct of dress—save
+as it was displaced on some formal state occasion or as part of a
+uniform or livery.
+
+There is a constant tendency in all times and among all
+English-speaking folk to shorten names and titles for colloquial
+purposes; and soon the falling-band became the fall. In the _Wits’
+Recreation_ are two epigrams which show the thought of the times:—
+
+“WHY WOMEN WEARE A FALL
+
+“A Question ’tis why Women wear a fall?
+And truth it is to Pride they’re given all.
+And _Pride_, the proverb says, _will have a fall_.”
+
+
+“ON A LITTLE DIMINUTIVE BAND
+
+“What is the reason of God-dam-me’s band,
+Inch deep? and that his fashion doth not alter,
+God-dam-me saves a labor, understand
+In pulling it off, where he puts on the Halter.”
+
+
+“God-dam-me” was one of the pleasant epithets which, by scores, were
+applied to the Puritans.
+
+
+Reverend Jonathan Edwards. Reverend Jonathan Edwards.
+
+The bands worn by the learned professions, two strips of lawn with
+squared ends, were at first the elongated ends of the shirt collar of
+Jonathan Edwards. We have them still, to remind us of old fashions; and
+we have another word and thing, band-box, which must have been a stern
+necessity in those days of starch, and ruff, and band.
+
+It was by no means a convention of dress that “God-dam-me” should wear
+a small band. Neither Cromwell nor his followers clung long to plain
+bands; nor did they all assume them. It would be wholly impossible to
+generalize or to determine the standing of individuals, either in
+politics or religion, by their neckwear. I have before me a little
+group of prints of men of Cromwell’s day, gathered for extra
+illustration of a history of Cromwell’s time. Let us glance at their
+bands.
+
+First comes Cromwell himself from the Cooper portrait at Cambridge;
+this portrait has a plain linen turnover collar, or band, but two to
+three inches wide. Then his father is shown in a very broad, square,
+plain linen collar extending in front expanse from shoulder seam to
+shoulder seam. Sir Harry Vane and Hampden, both Puritans, have narrow
+collars like Cromwell’s; Pym, an equally precise sectarian, has a
+broader one like the father’s, but apparently of some solid and rich
+embroidery like cut-work. Edward Hyde, the Earl of Clarendon, in narrow
+band, Lucius Cary, Lord Falkland, in band and band-strings, were
+members of the Long Parliament, but passed in time to the Royal Camp.
+Other portraits of both noblemen are in richly laced bands. The Earl of
+Bristol, who was in the same standing, has the widest of lace, Vandyked
+collars. John Selden wears the plain band; but here is Strafford, the
+very impersonation of all that was hated by Puritans, and yet he wears
+the simplest of puritanical bands. William Lenthal, Speaker of the
+House of Commons, is in a beautiful Cavalier collar with straight lace
+edges. There are a score more, equally indifferent to rule.
+
+There is no doubt, however, that the Puritan regarded his plain band—if
+he wore it—with jealous care. Poor Mary Downing, niece of Governor
+Winthrop, paid dearly for her careless “searing,” or ironing, of her
+brother’s bands. Her stepmother’s severity at her offence brought forth
+this plaintive letter:—
+
+
+“Father, I trust that I have not provoked you to harbour soe ill an
+opinion of mee as my mothers lettres do signifie and give me to
+understand; the ill opinion and hard pswasion which shee beares of mee,
+that is to say, that I should abuse yor goodness, and bee prodigall of
+yor purse, neglectful of my brothers bands, and of my slatterishnes and
+lasines; for my brothers bands I will not excuse myselfe, but I thinke
+not worthy soe sharpe a reproofe; for the rest I must needs excuse, and
+cleare myselfe if I may bee believed. I doe not know myselfe guilty of
+any of them; for myne owne part I doe not desire to be myne owne judge,
+but am willinge to bee judged by them with whom I live, and see my
+course, whether I bee addicted to such things or noe.”
+
+
+Ruffs and bands were not the only neckwear of the colonists. Very soon
+there was a tendency to ornament the band-strings with tassels of silk,
+with little tufts of ribbon, with tiny rosettes, with jewels even; and
+soon a graceful frill of lace hung where the band was tied together.
+This may be termed the beginning of the necktie or cravat; but the
+article itself enjoyed many names, and many forms, which in general
+extended both to men’s and women’s wear.
+
+
+Captain George Curwen. Captain George Curwen.
+
+Let us turn to the old inventories for the various names of this
+neckwear.
+
+A Maryland gentleman left by will, with other attire, in 1642, “Nine
+laced stripps, two plain stripps, nine quoifes, one call, eight
+crosse-cloths, a paire holland sleeves, a paire women’s cuffs, nine
+plaine neck-cloths, five laced neck-cloths, two plaine gorgetts, seven
+laced gorgetts, three old clouts, five plaine neckhandkerchiefs, two
+plain shadowes.”
+
+John Taylor, the “Water Poet,” wrote a poem entitled The Needles
+Excellency. I quote from the twelfth edition, dated 1640. In the list
+of garments which we owe to the needle he names:—
+
+“Shadows, Shapparoones, Cauls, Bands, Ruffs, Kuffs,
+Kerchiefs, Quoyfes, Chin-clouts, Marry-muffes,
+Cross-cloths, Aprons, Hand-kerchiefs, or Falls.”
+
+
+His list runs like that of the Maryland planter. The strip was
+something like the whisk; indeed, the names seem interchangeable.
+Bishop Hall in his _Satires_ writes:—
+
+“When a plum’d fan may hide thy chalked face
+And lawny strips thy naked bosom grace.”
+
+
+Dr. Smith wrote in 1658 in _Penelope and Ulysses_:—
+
+“A stomacher upon her breast so bare
+For strips and gorget were not then the wear.”
+
+
+The gorget was the frill in front; the strip the lace cape or whisk. It
+will be noted that nine gorgets are named with these strips.
+
+The gorget when worn by women was enriched with lace and needlework.
+
+“These Holland smocks as white as snow
+And gorgets brave with drawn-work wrought
+A tempting ware they are you know.”
+
+
+Thus runs a poem published in 1596.
+
+Mary Verney writes in 1642 her desire for “gorgetts and eyther cutt or
+painted callico to wear under them or what is most in fashion.”
+
+The shadow has been a great stumbling-block to antiquaries. Purchas’s
+_Pilgrimage_ is responsible for what is to me a very confusing
+reference. It says of a certain savage race:—
+
+
+“They have a skin of leather hanging about their necks whenever they
+sit bare-headed and bare-footed, with their right arms bare; and a
+broad Sombrero or Shadow in their hands to defend them in Summer from
+the Sunne, in Winter from the Rain.”
+
+
+This would make a shadow a sort of hand-screen or sunshade; but all
+other references seem as if a shadow were a cap. As early as 1580,
+Richard Fenner’s Wardship Roll has “Item a Caul and Shadoe 4
+shillings.” I think a shadow was a great cap like a cornet.
+Cross-cloths were a form of head-dress. I have seen old portraits with
+a cap or head-dress formed of crossed bands which I have supposed were
+cross-cloths.
+
+Cross-cloths also bore a double meaning; for certainly neck-cloths or
+neckerchiefs were sometimes called cross-cloths or cross-clothes.
+Another name is the picardill or piccadilly, a French title for a
+gorget. Fitzgerald, in 1617, wrote of “a spruse coxcomb” that he
+glanced at his pocket looking-glass to see:—
+
+“How his Band jumpeth with his Peccadilly
+Whether his Band-strings ballance equally.”
+
+
+Another satirical author could write in 1638 that “pickadillies are now
+out of request.”
+
+The portrait of Captain Curwen of Salem (here) is unlike many of his
+times. Over his doublet he wears a handsome embroidered shoulder sash
+called a trooping-scarf; and his broad lace tie is very unusual for the
+year 1660. I know few like it upon American gentlemen in portraits; and
+I fancy it is a gorget, or a piccadilly. It is pleasant to know that
+this handsome piece of lace has been preserved. It is here shown with
+his cane.
+
+
+Lace Gorget and Cane of Captain George Curwen. Lace Gorget and Cane of
+Captain George Curwen.
+
+A little negative proof may be given as to one word and article. The
+gorget is said to be an adaptation of the wimple. Our writers of
+historical tales are very fond of attiring their heroines in wimples
+and kirtles. Both have a picturesque, an antique, sound—the wimple is
+Biblical and Shakesperian, and therefore ever satisfying to the ear,
+and to the sight in manuscript. But I have never seen the word wimple
+in an inventory, list, invoice, letter, or book of colonial times, and
+but once the word kirtle. Likewise are these modern authors a bit vague
+as to the manner of garment a wimple is. One fair maid is described as
+having her fair form wrapped in a warm wimple. She might as well be
+described as wrapped in a warm cravat. For a wimple was simply a small
+kerchief or covering for the neck, worn in the thirteenth and
+fourteenth centuries.
+
+Another quaint term, already obsolete when the _Mayflower_ sailed, was
+partlet. A partlet was an inner kerchief, worn with an open-necked
+bodice or doublet. Its trim plaited edge or ruffle seems to have given
+rise to the popular name, “Dame Partlet,” for a hen. It appeared in the
+reign of Henry VIII; the courtiers imitating the king threw open their
+garments at the throat, and further opened them with slashes; hence the
+use of the partlet, which was a trim form of underhabit or gorget, worn
+well up to the throat. An old dictionary explains that the partlet can
+be “set on or taken off by itself without taking off the bodice, as can
+be pickadillies now-a-days, or men’s bands.” It adds that women’s
+neckerchiefs have been called partlets.
+
+In October, 1662, Samuel Pepys wrote in his _Diary_, “Made myself fine
+with Captain Ferrers lace band; being loathe to wear my own new
+scallop; it is so fine.” This is one of his several references to this
+new fashion of band which both he and his wife adopted. He paid £;3 for
+his scallop, and 45s. for one for his wife. He was so satisfied with
+his elegance in this new scallop, that like many another lover of dress
+he determined his chief extravagance should be for lace. The fashion of
+scallop-wearing came to America. For several years the word was used in
+inventories, then it became as obsolete as a caul, a shadow, a cornet.
+
+The word “cravat” is not very ancient. Its derivation is said to be
+from the Cravates or Croats in the French military service, who adopted
+such neckwear in 1636. An early use of the word is by Blount in 1656,
+who called a cravat “a new fashioned Gorget which Women wear.”
+
+The cravat is a distinct companion of the wig, and was worn whenever
+and wherever wigs were donned.
+
+Evelyn gave the year 1666 as the one when vest, cravat, garters, and
+buckles came to be the fashion. We could add likewise wigs. Of course
+all these had been known before that year, but had not been general
+wear.
+
+An early example of a cravat is shown in the portrait of old William
+Stoughton in my later chapter on Cloaks. His cravat is a distinctly new
+mode of neck-dressing, but is found on all American portraits shortly
+after that date. One is shown with great exactness in the portrait
+here, which is asserted to be that of “the handsomest man in the
+Plantations,” William Coddington, Governor of Rhode Island and
+Providence Plantations.
+
+
+Governor Coddington. Governor Coddington.
+
+He was a precise man, and wearisome in his precision—a bore, even, I
+fear. His beauty went for little in his relation of man to man, and,
+above all, of colonist to colonist; and poor Governor Winthrop must
+have been sorely tormented with his frequent letters, which might have
+been written from Mars for all the signs they bore of news of things of
+this earth. His dress is very neat and rich—a characteristic dress, I
+think. It has slightly wrought buttonholes, plain sleeve ruffles and
+gloves. His full curled peruke has a mass of long curls hanging in
+front of the right shoulder, while the curls on the left side are six
+or eight inches shorter. This was the most elegant London fashion, and
+extreme fashion too. His neck-scarf or cravat was a characteristic one.
+It consisted of a long scarf of soft, fine, sheer, white linen over two
+yards long, passed twice or thrice close around the throat and simply
+lapped under the chin, not knotted. The upper end hung from twelve to
+sixteen inches long. The other and longer end was carried down to a low
+waistline and tucked in between the buttons of the waistcoat. Often the
+free end of this scarf was trimmed with lace or cut-work; indeed, the
+whole scarf might be of embroidery or lace, but the simpler lawn or
+mull appears to have been in better taste. This tie is seen in this
+portrait of Thomas Fayerweather, by Smybert, and in modified forms on
+many other pages.
+
+
+Thomas Fayerweather. Thomas Fayerweather.
+
+We now find constant references to the Steinkirk, a new cravat. As we
+see it frequently stated that the Steinkirk was a black tie, I may
+state here that all the Steinkirks I have seen have been white. I know
+no portraits with black neck-cloths. I find no allusions in old-time
+literature or letters to black Steinkirks.
+
+A Steinkirk was a white cravat, not knotted, but fastened so loosely as
+to seem folded rather than tied, twisted sometimes twice or thrice,
+with one or both ends passed through a buttonhole of the coat. Ladies
+wore them, as well as men, arranged with equal appearance of careless
+negligence; and the soft diagonal folds of linen and lace made a pretty
+finish at the throat, as pretty as any high neck-dressing could be.
+These cravats were called Steinkirks after the battle of Steinkirk,
+when some of the French princes, not having time to perform an
+elaborate toilet before going into action, hurriedly twisted their lace
+cravats about their necks and pulled them through a buttonhole, simply
+to fix them safely in place. The fashionable world eagerly followed
+their example. It is curious that the Steinkirk should have been
+popular in England, where the name might rather have been a bitter
+avoidance.
+
+The battle of Steinkirk took place in 1694. An early English allusion
+to the neckwear thus named is in _The Relapse_, which was acted in
+1697. In it the Semstress says, “I hope your Lordship is pleased with
+your Steenkirk.” His Lordship answers with eloquence, “In love with it,
+stap my vitals! Bring your bill, you shall be paid tomorrow!”
+
+The Steinkirk, both for men’s and women’s wear, came to America very
+promptly, and was soon widely worn. The dashing, handsome figure of
+young King Carter gives an illustration of the pretty studied
+negligence of the Steinkirk. I have seen a Steinkirk tie on at least
+twenty portraits of American gentlemen, magistrates, and officers; some
+of them were the royal governors, but many were American born and bred,
+who never visited Europe, but turned eagerly to English fashions.
+
+
+“King” Carter in Youth, by Sir Godfrey Kneller. “King” Carter in Youth,
+by Sir Godfrey Kneller.
+
+Certain old families have preserved among their ancient treasures a
+very long oval brooch with a bar across it from end to end—the longest
+way of the brooch. These are set sometimes with topaz or moonstone,
+garnet, marcasite, heliotropium, or paste jewels. Many wonder for what
+purpose these were used. They were to hold the lace Steinkirk in place,
+when it was not pulled through the buttonhole. The bar made it seem
+like a tongueless buckle—or perhaps it was like a long, narrow buckle
+to which a brooch pin had been affixed to keep it firmly in place.
+
+The cravat, tied and twisted in Steinkirk form, or more simply folded,
+long held its place in fashionable dress.
+
+“The stock with buckle made of paste
+Has put the cravat out of date,”
+
+
+wrote Whyte in 1742.
+
+With this quotation we will turn from neckwear until a later period.
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS
+
+
+_“So many poynted cappes
+Lased with double flaps
+And soe gay felted cappes
+  Saw I never.
+
+“So propre cappes
+So lyttle hattes
+And so false hartes
+Saw I never.”
+_
+—“The Maner of the World Nowe-a-dayes,” JOHN SKELTON, 1548.
+
+
+“_The Turk in linen wraps his head
+  The Persian his in lawn, too,
+The Russ with sables furs his cap
+  And change will not be drawn to.
+
+“The Spaniard’s constant to his block
+  The Frenchman inconstant ever;
+But of all felts that may be felt
+  Give me the English beaver.
+
+“The German loves his coney-wool
+  The Irishman his shag, too,
+The Welsh his Monmouth loves to wear
+  And of the same will brag, too”_
+
+—“A Challenge for Beauty,” THOMAS HAYWARD
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS
+
+
+A
+
+
+ny student of English history and letters would know that caps would
+positively be part of the outfit of every emigrating Englishman. A cap
+was, for centuries, both the enforced and desired headwear of English
+folk of quiet lives.
+
+
+City Flat-cap worn by “Bilious” Bale. City Flat-cap worn by “Bilious”
+Bale.
+
+Belgic Britons, Welshmen, Irish, Anglo-Saxons, Danes, and Normans all
+had worn caps, as well as ancient Greeks and Romans. These English caps
+had been of divers colors and manifold forms, some being grotesque
+indeed. When we reach the reign of Henry VIII we are made familiar in
+the paintings of Holbein with a certain flat-cap which sometimes had a
+small jewel or leather or a double fold, but never varied greatly. This
+was known as the city flat-cap.
+
+It is shown also in the Holbein portrait of Adam Winthrop, grandfather
+of Governor John Winthrop; he was a man of dignity, Master of the Cloth
+Workers’ Guild.
+
+The muffin-cap of the boys of Christ’s Hospital is a form of this cap.
+
+This was at first and ever a Londoner’s cap. A poet wrote in 1630:—
+
+
+“Flat caps as proper are to city gowns
+As to armour, helmets, or to kings, their crowns.”
+
+
+Winthrop also wears the city gown.
+
+This flat-cap was often of gay colors, scarlet being a favorite hue.
+
+
+“Behold the bonnet upon my head
+A staryng colour of scarlet red
+I promise you a fyne thred
+   And a soft wool
+   It cost a noble.”
+
+
+These lines were written for the character “Pride,” in the _Interlude
+of Nature_, before the year 1500.
+
+A statute was passed in 1571, “If any person above six years of age
+(except maidens, ladies, gentlemen, nobles, knights, gentlemen of
+twenty marks by year in lands, and their heirs, and such as have born
+office of worship) have not worn upon the Sunday or holyday (except it
+be in the time of his travell out of the city, town or hamlet where he
+dwelleth) one cap of wool, knit, thicked and dressed in England, and
+only dressed and furnished by some of the trade of cappers, shall be
+fined £;3 4d. for each day’s transgression.” The caps thus worn were
+called Statute caps.
+
+This was, of course, to encourage wool-workers in the pride of the
+nation. Winthrop, master of a guild whose existence depended on wool,
+would, of course, wear a woollen cap had he not been a Londoner. It was
+a plain head-covering, but it was also the one worn by King Edward VI.
+
+There was a formal coif or cap worn by men of dignity; always worn, I
+think, by judges and elderly lawyers, ere the assumption of the formal
+wig. This coif may be seen on the head of the venerable Dr. Dee, and
+also on the head of Lord Burleigh, and of Thomas Cecil, surmounted with
+the citizen’s flat-cap. One of these caps in heavy black lustring
+lingered by chance in my home—worn by some forgotten ancestor. It had a
+curious loop, as may be seen on Dr. Dee. This was not a narrow string
+for tying the coif on the head; it was a loop. And if there was any
+need of fastening the cap on the head, a narrow ribbon or ferret, a
+lacing, was put through both loops.
+
+In the inventory of the apparel of the first settlers which I have
+given in the early pages of this book, we find that each colonist to
+the Massachusetts Bay settlement had one Monmouth cap and five red
+milled caps. All the lists of necessary clothing for the planters have
+as an item, caps; but a well-made, well-lined hat was also supplied.
+
+Monmouth caps were in general wear in England. Thomas Fuller said,
+“Caps were the most ancient, general, warm, and profitable coverings of
+men’s heads in this Island.” In making them thousands of people were
+employed, especially before the invention of fulling-mills, when caps
+were wrought, beaten, and thickened by the hands and feet of men.
+Cap-making afforded occupation to fifteen different callings: carders,
+spinners, knitters, parters of wool, forcers, thickers, dressers,
+walkers, dyers, battellers, shearers, pressers, edgers, liners, and
+band-makers.
+
+
+King James I of England. King James I of England.
+
+The Monmouth caps were worth two shillings each, which were furnished
+to the Massachusetts colonists. These were much affected by seafaring
+men. We read, in _A Satyr on Sea Officers_, “With Monmouth cap and
+cutlass at my side, striding at least a yard at every stride.” “The
+Ballad of the Caps,” 1656, gives a wonderful list of caps. Among them
+are:
+
+
+The Monmouth Cap, the Saylors thrum,
+And that wherein the tradesmen come,
+The Physick, Lawe, the Cap divine,
+And that which crowns the Muses nine,
+The Cap that Fools do countenance,
+The goodly Cap of Maintenance,
+And any Cap what e’re it be,
+Is still the sign of some degree.
+
+“The sickly Cap both plaine and wrought,
+The Fuddling-cap however bought,
+The quilted, furred, the velvet, satin,
+For which so many pates learn Latin,
+The Crewel Cap, the Fustian pate,
+The Perriwig, the Cap of Late,
+And any Cap what e’er it be
+Is still the sign of some degree.”
+
+—“Ballad of the Caps,” 1656.
+
+
+We seldom have in manuscript or print, in America, titles or names
+given to caps or hats, but one occasionally seen is the term
+“montero-cap,” spelled also mountero, montiro, montearo; and Washington
+Irving tells of “the cedar bird with a little mon-teiro-cap of
+feathers.” Montero-caps were frequently recommended to emigrants, and
+useful dress they were, being a horseman’s or huntsman’s cap with a
+simple round crown, and a flap which went around the sides and back of
+the cap and which could be worn turned up or brought down over the back
+of the neck, the ears and temples, thus making a most protecting
+head-covering. They were, in general, dark colored, of substantial
+woollen stuff, but Sterne writes in Tristram Shandy of a montero-cap
+which he describes as of superfine Spanish cloth, dyed scarlet in the
+grain, mounted all round with fur, except four inches in front, which
+was faced with light blue lightly embroidered. It is a montero-cap
+which is seen on the head of Bamfylde Moore Carew, the “King of the
+Mumpers,” a most genial English rogue, sneak-thief, and cheat of the
+eighteenth century, who spent some of his ill-filled years in the
+American colonies, whither he was brought after being trepanned, and
+where he had to bear the ignominy of wearing an iron collar welded
+around his neck.
+
+A montero-cap seems to have been the favorite dress of rogues. In
+Head’s _English Rogue_ we read, “Beware of him that rides in a
+montero-cap and of him that whispers oft.” The picaro Guzman wore one;
+and as montero is the Spanish word for huntsman, Head may have obtained
+the word from that special scamp, Guzman, whose life was published in
+1633. It is a very ancient name, being given in Cotgrave as a hood, or
+as the horseman’s helmet. It is worn still by Arctic travellers and
+Alpine climbers. Sets of knitted montero-caps were presented by the
+Empress Eugenie to the Arctic expedition of 1875, and the Jackies
+dubbed them “Eugenie Wigs.”
+
+Another and widely different class of men wore likewise the
+montero-cap, the English and American Quakers. Thomas Ellwood, in the
+early days of his Quaker belief, suffered much for his hat, both from
+his fellow Quakers and his father, a Church of England man. The Quakers
+thought his “large Mountier cap of black velvet, the skirt of which
+being turned up in Folds looked somewhat above the common Garb of a
+Quaker.” A young priest at another time snatched this montero-cap off
+because he wore it in the presence of magistrates, and then Ellwood’s
+father fell upon it in this wise:—
+
+
+“He could not contain himself but running upon me with both hands,
+first violently snatcht off my Hat and threw it away and then giving me
+some buffets in the head said Sirrah get you up to your chamber. I had
+now lost one hat and had but one more. The next Time my Father saw it
+on my head he tore it violently from me and laid it up with the other,
+I know not where. Wherefore I put my Mountier Cap which was all I had
+left to wear on my head, and but a little while I had that, for when my
+Father came where I was, I lost that also.”
+
+
+
+
+Fulke Greville (Lord Brooke). Fulke Greville (Lord Brooke).
+
+Finally the father refused to let him wear his “Hive,” as he called the
+hat, at the table while eating, and thereafter Ellwood ate with his
+father’s servants.
+
+The vogue of beaver hats was an important factor in the settlement of
+America.
+
+The first Spanish, Dutch, English, and French colonists all came to
+America to seek for gold and furs. The Spaniards found gold, the Dutch
+and French found furs, but the English who found fish found the
+greatest wealth of all, for food is ever more than raiment.
+
+Of the furs the most important and most valuable was beaver. The
+English sent some beaver back to Europe; the very first ship to return
+from Plymouth carried back two hogsheads. Winslow sent twenty hogsheads
+as early as 1634, and Bradford shows that the trade was deemed
+important. But the wild creatures speedily retreated. Johnson declares
+that as early as 1645 the beaver trade had left the frontier post of
+Springfield, on the Connecticut River.
+
+From the earliest days both the French and English crown had treated
+the fishing and fur industries with unusual discretion, giving a
+monopoly to the fur trade and leaving the fisheries free, so the latter
+constantly increased, while in New England the fur trade passed over to
+the Dutch, distinctly to the advantage of the English, for the lazy
+trader at a post was neither a good savage nor a good citizen, while
+the hardy fishermen and bold sailors of New England brought wealth to
+every town. For some years the Dutch appeared to have the best of it,
+for they received ten to fifteen thousand beaver skins annually from
+New England; and they had trading-posts on Narragansett and Buzzards
+Bay. Still the trade drew the Dutch away from agriculture, and the real
+success of New Netherland did not come with furs, but with corn.
+
+
+James Douglas (Earl of Morton). James Douglas (Earl of Morton).
+
+The fur trade was certainly an interesting factor in the growth of the
+Dutch settlement. Fort Orange, or Albany, called the _Fuyck_, was the
+natural topographical _fuyck_ or trap-net to catch this trade, and in
+the very first season of its settlement fifteen hundred beaver and five
+hundred otter skins were despatched to Holland. In 1657 Johannes
+Dyckman asserted that 40,900 beaver and otter skins were sent that year
+from Fort Orange to Fort Amsterdam (New York City). As these skins were
+valued at from eight to ten guilders apiece (about $3.50 and with a
+purchasing value equal to $20 to-day), it can readily be seen what a
+source of wealth seemed opened. The authorities at Fort Orange, the
+patroons of Renssalaerwyck and Beverwyck, were not to be permitted to
+absorb all this wondrous gain in undisturbed peace. The increment of
+the India Company was diverted and hindered in various ways.
+Unscrupulous and crafty citizens of Fort Orange (independent
+_handaelers_ or handlers) and their thrifty, penny-turning _vrouws_
+decoyed the Indian trappers and hunters into their peaceful, honest
+kitchens under pretence of kindly Christian welcome to the
+peltry-bearing braves; and they filled the guileless savages with Dutch
+schnapps, or Barbadoes “kill-devil,” until the befuddled or half-crazed
+Indians parted with their precious stores of hard-trapped skins and
+threw off their well-perspired and greased beaver coats and exchanged
+them for such valuable Dutch wares as knives, scissors, beads, and
+jews’-harps, or even a few pints of quickly vanishing rum, instead of
+solid Dutch guilders or substantial Dutch blankets. And even before
+these strategic Dutch citizens could corral and fleece them, the
+incoming fur-bearers had to run as insinuating a gantlet of
+_boschloopers_, bush-runners, drummers, or “broakers,” who sallied out
+on the narrow Indian paths to buy the coveted furs even before they
+were brought into Fort Orange. Much legislation ensued. Scout-buying
+was prohibited. Citizens were forbidden “to addresse to speak to the
+wilden of trading,” or to entice them to “traffique,” or to harbor them
+over night. Indian houses to lodge the trappers were built just outside
+the gate, where the dickering would be public. These were built by
+rates collected from all “Christian dealers” in furs.
+
+But Indian paths were many, and the water-ways were unpatrolled, and
+kitchen doors could be slyly opened in the dusk; so the government, in
+spite of laws and shelter-houses, did not get all the beaver skins. Too
+many were eager for the lucrative and irregular trade; agricultural
+pursuits were alarmingly neglected; other communities became rivals,
+and the beavers soon were exterminated from the valley of the Hudson,
+and by 1660 the Fort Orange trade was sadly diminished. The governor of
+Canada had an itching palm, and lured the Indians—and beaver skins—to
+Montreal. Thus “impaired by French wiles,” scarce nine thousand
+peltries came in 1687 to Fort Orange. With a few fluttering rallies
+until Revolutionary times the fur trade of Albany became extinct; it
+passed from both Dutch and French, and was dominated by the Hudson Bay
+Fur Company.
+
+So clear a description of the fur of the beaver and the use of the pelt
+was given by Adriaen van der Donck, who lived at Fort Orange from the
+year 1641 to 1646, and traded for years with the Indians, that it is
+well to give his exact words:—
+
+
+“The beaver’s skin is rough but thickly set with fine fur of an
+ash-gray color inclining to blue. The outward points also incline to a
+russet or brown color. From the fur of the beaver the best hats are
+made that are worn. They are called beavers or castoreums from the
+material of which they are made, and they are known by this name over
+all Europe. Outside of the coat of fur many shining hairs appear called
+wind-hairs, which are more properly winter-hairs, for they fall out in
+summer and appear again in winter. The outer coat is of a
+chestnut-brown color, the browner the color the better is the fur.
+Sometimes it will be a little reddish.
+
+“When hats are made of the fur, the rough hairs are pulled out for they
+are useless. The skins are usually first sent to Russia, where they are
+highly valued for their outside shining hair, and on this their
+greatest recommendation depends with the Russians. The skins are used
+there for mantle-linings and are also cut into strips for borders, as
+we cut rabbit-skins. Therefore we call the same peltries. Whoever has
+there the most and costliest fur-trimmings is deemed a person of very
+high rank, as with us the finest stuffs and gold and silver
+embroideries are regarded as the appendages of the great. After the
+hairs have fallen out, or are worn, and the peltries become old and
+dirty and apparently useless, we get the article back, and convert the
+fur into hats, before which it cannot be well used for this purpose,
+for unless the beaver has been worn, and is greasy and dirty, it will
+not felt properly, hence these old peltries are the most valuable. The
+coats which the Indians make of beaver-skins and which they have worn
+for a long time around their bodies until the skins have become foul
+with perspiration and grease are afterwards used by the hatters and
+make the best hats.”
+
+
+One notion about beaver must be told. Its great popularity for many
+years arose, it is conjectured, from its original use as a cap for
+curative purposes. Such a beaver cap would “unfeignedly” recover to a
+man his hearing, and stimulate his memory to a wonder, especially if
+the “oil of castor” was rubbed in his hair.
+
+
+Elihu Yale. Elihu Yale.
+
+The beaver hat was for centuries a choice and costly article of dress;
+it went through many bizarre forms. On the head of Henry IV of France
+and Navarre, as made known in his portrait, is a hat which effectually
+destroys all possibility of dignity. It is a bell-crowned stove-pipe,
+of the precise shape worn later by coachmen and by dandies about the
+years 1820 to 1830. It is worn very much over one royal ear, like the
+hat of a well-set-up, self-important coachman of the palmy days of
+English coaching, and gives an air of absurd modernity and cockney
+importance to the picture of a king of great dignity. The hat worn by
+James I, ere he was King of England, is shown here. It is funnier than
+any seen for years in a comic opera. The hat worn by Francis Bacon is a
+plain felt, greatly in contrast with his rich laced triple ruff and
+cuffs and embroidered garments. That of Thomas Cecil here varies
+slightly.
+
+Two very singular shapings of the plain hat may be seen, one here on
+the head of Fulke Greville, where the round-topped, high crown is most
+disproportionate to the narrow brim. The second, here, shows an extreme
+sugar-loaf, almost a pointed crown.
+
+A good hat was very expensive, and important enough to be left among
+bequests in a will. They were borrowed and hired for many years, and
+even down to the time of Queen Anne we find the rent of a _subscription
+hat_ to be £;2 6s. per annum! The hiring out of a hat does not seem
+strange when hiring out clothes was a regular business with tailors.
+The wife of a person of low estate hired a gown of Queen Elizabeth’s to
+be married in. Tailor Thomas Gylles complained of the Yeoman of the
+queen’s wardrobe for suffering this. He writes, “The copper cloth of
+gold gowns which were made last, and another, were sent into the
+country for the marriage of Lord Montague.” The bequest of half-worn
+garments was highly regarded. On the very day of Darnley’s funeral,
+Mary Queen of Scots gave his clothes to Bothwell, who sent them to his
+tailor to be refitted. The tailor, bold with the riot and disorder of
+the time, returned them with the impudent message that “the duds of
+dead men were given to the hangman.” The duds of men who were hanged
+were given to the hangman almost as long as hangings took place. A poor
+New England girl, hanged for the murder of her child, went to the
+scaffold in her meanest attire, and taunted the executioner that he
+would get but a poor suit of clothes from her. The last woman hanged in
+Massachusetts wore a white satin gown, which I expect the sheriff’s
+daughter much revelled in the following winter at dancing-parties.
+
+
+Thomas Cecil. Thomas Cecil.
+
+Old Philip Stubbes has given us a wonderful description of English
+head-gear:—
+
+
+“HATS OF SUNDRIE FATIONS”
+
+
+“Sometymes they vse them sharpe on the Croune, pearking vp like the
+Spire, or Shaft of a Steeple, standyng a quarter of a yarde aboue the
+Croune of their heades, somemore, some lesse, as please the phantasies
+of their inconstant mindes. Othersome be flat and broad on the Crowne,
+like the battlemetes of a house. An other sorte haue rounde Crownes,
+sometymes with one kinde of Band, sometymes with another, now black,
+now white, now russet, now red, now grene, now yellowe, now this, now
+that, never content with one colour or fashion two daies to an ende.
+And thus in vanitie they spend the Lorde his treasure, consuming their
+golden yeres and siluer daies in wickednesse and sinne. And as the
+fashions bee rare and strange, so is the stuffe whereof their hattes be
+made divers also; for some are of Silke, some of Veluet, some of
+Taffatie, some of Sarcenet, some of Wooll, and, whiche is more curious,
+some of a certaine kinde of fine Haire; these they call Bever hattes,
+or xx. xxx. or xl. shillinges price, fetched from beyonde the seas,
+from whence a greate sorte of other vanities doe come besides. And so
+common a thing it is, that euery seruyngman, countrieman, and other,
+euen all indefferently, dooe weare of these hattes. For he is of no
+account or estimation amongst men if he haue not a Veluet or Taffatie
+hatte, and that must be Pincked, and Cunnyngly Carved of the beste
+fashion. And good profitable hattes be 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 sprong vp amongst them, which they
+father vpon a Frenchman, namely, to weare them with bandes, but how
+vnsemely (I will not saie how hassie) a fashion that is let the wise
+judge; notwithstanding, howeuer it be, if it please them, it shall not
+displease me.
+
+
+“And another sort (as phantasticall as the rest) are content with no
+kinde of hat without a greate Bunche of Feathers of diuers and sondrie
+Colours, peakyng on top of their heades, not vnlike (I dare not saie)
+Cockescombes, but as sternes of pride, and ensignes of vanity. And yet,
+notwithstanding these Flutterying Sailes, and Feathered Flagges of
+defiaunce of Vertue (for so they be) are so advanced that euery child
+hath them in his Hat or Cap; many get good liuing by dying and selling
+of them, and not a few proue the selues more than Fooles in wearyng of
+them.”
+
+
+Notwithstanding this list of Stubbes, it is very curious to note that
+in general the shape of the real beaver hat remained the same as long
+as it was worn uncocked.
+
+
+Cornelius Steinwyck. Cornelius Steinwyck.
+
+The hat was worn much more constantly within-doors than in the present
+day. Pepys states that they were worn in church; even the preacher wore
+his hat. Hats were removed in the presence of royalty. An hereditary
+honor and privilege granted to one of my ancestors was that he might
+wear his hat before the king.
+
+It is somewhat difficult to find out the exact date when the wearing of
+hats by men within-doors ceased to be fashionable and became distinctly
+low bred. We can turn to contemporary art. In 1707 at a grand banquet
+given in France to the Spanish Embassy, a ceremonious state affair with
+the women in magnificent full-dress, the men seated at the table and in
+the presence of royalty wore their cocked hats—so much for courtly
+France.
+
+This wearing of the hat in church, at table, and elsewhere that seems
+now strange to us, was largely as an emblem of dignity and authority.
+Miss Moore in the _Caldwell Papers_ writes of her grandfather:—
+
+
+“I’ my grandfather’s time, as I have heard him tell, ilka maister of a
+family had his ain seat in his ain house; aye, and sat there with his
+hat on, afore the best in the land; and had his ain dish, and was aye
+helpit first and keepit up his authority as a man should so. Parents
+were parents then; and bairns dared not set up their gabs afore them as
+they do now.”
+
+
+That the covering of the head in church still has a significance on
+important occasions, is shown by a rubric from the “Form and Order” for
+the Coronation of King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra; this provides
+that the king remains uncovered during the saying of the Litany and the
+beginning of the Communion Service, but when the sermon begun that he
+should put on his “Cap of crimson velvet turned up with Ermine, and so
+continue,” to the end of the discourse.
+
+Hatbands were just as important for men’s hats as women’s—especially
+during the years of the reign of James I. Endymion Porter had his
+wife’s diamond necklace to wear on his hat in Spain. It probably looked
+like paste beside the gorgeousness of the Duke of Buckingham, who had
+“the Mirror of France,” a great diamond, the finest in England, “to
+wear alone in your hat with a little blacke feather,” so the king wrote
+him. A more curious hat ornament was a glove.
+
+
+Hat with a Glove as a Favor. Hat with a Glove as a Favor.
+
+This handsome hat is from a portrait of George, Earl of Cumberland. It
+has a woman’s glove as a favor. This is said to have been a gift of
+Queen Elizabeth after his prowess in a tournament. He always wore this
+glove on state occasions. Gloves were worn on a hat in three meanings:
+as a memorial of a dead friend, as a favor of a mistress, or as a mark
+of challenge. A pretty laced or tasselled handkerchief was also a favor
+and was worn like a cockade.
+
+An excellent representation of the Cavalier hat may be seen on the
+figure of Oliver Cromwell (here), which shows him dismissing
+Parliament. Cornelius Steinwyck’s flat-leafed hat has no feather.
+
+The steeple-crowned hat of both men and women was in vogue in the
+second half of the seventeenth century in both England and America, at
+the time when the witchcraft tragedies came to a culmination. The long
+scarlet cloak was worn at the same date. It is evident that the
+conventional witch of to-day, an old woman in scarlet cloak and
+steeple-crowned hat, is a relic of that day. Through the striking
+circumstances and the striking dress was struck off a figurative type
+which is for all time.
+
+William Kempe of “Duxburrow” in 1641 left hats, hat-boxes, rich
+hatbands, bone laces, leather hat-cases; also ten “capps.” Hats were
+also made of cloth. In the tailor’s bill of work done for Jonathan
+Corwin of Salem, in 1679, we read “To making a Broadcloth Hatt 14s. To
+making 2 hatts &; 2 jackets for your two sonnes 19s.” In 1672 an
+association of Massachusetts hatters asked privileges and protection
+from the colonial government to aid and encourage American manufacture,
+but they were refused until they made better hats. Shortly after,
+however, the exportation of raccoon fur to England was forbidden, or
+taxed, as it was found to be useful in the home manufacture of hats.
+
+The eighteenth century saw many and varied forms of the cocked hat; the
+nineteenth returned to a straight crown and brim. The description of
+these will be given in the due course of the narrative of this book.
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE VENERABLE HOOD
+
+
+_“Paul saith, that a woman ought to have a Power on her head. This
+Power that some of them have is disguised gear and strange fashions.
+They must wear French Hoods—and I cannot tell you—I—what to call it.
+And when they make them ready and come to the Covering of their Head
+they will say, ‘Give me my French Hood, and Give me my Bonnet or my
+Cap.’ Now here is a Vengeance-Devil; we must have our Power from Turkey
+of Velvet, and gay it must be; far-fetched and dear-bought; and when it
+cometh it is a False Sign.”_
+
+—Sermon, ARCHBISHOP LATIMER, 1549.
+
+
+_“Hoods are the most ancient covering for the head and far more elegant
+and useful than the more modern fashion of hats, which present a
+useless elevation, and leave the neck and ears completely exposed.”_
+
+—“Glossary of Ecclesiastical Ornament and Costume,” PUGIN, 1868.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE VENERABLE HOOD
+
+
+W
+
+
+e are told by the great Viollet le Duc that the faces of
+fifteenth-century women were of a uniform type. Certainly a uniform
+head-dress tends to establish a seeming resemblance of the wearers; the
+strange, steeple head-dress of that century might well have that
+effect; and the “French hood” worn so many years by English, French,
+and American women has somewhat the same effect on women’s
+countenances; it gives a uniformity of severity. It is difficult for a
+face to be pretty and gay under this gloomy hood. This French hood is
+plainly a development of the head-rail, which was simply an unshaped
+oblong strip of linen or stuff thrown over the head, and with the ends
+twisted lightly round the neck or tied loosely under the chin with
+whatever grace or elegance the individual wearer possessed.
+
+Varying slightly from reign to reign, yet never greatly changed, this
+sombre plain French hood was worn literally for centuries. It was
+deemed so grave and dignified a head-covering that, in the reign of
+Edward III, women of ill carriage were forbidden the wearing of it.
+
+
+Gulielma Penn. Gulielma Penn.
+
+In the year 1472 “Raye Hoods,” that is, striped hoods, were enjoined in
+several English towns as the distinctive wear of women of ill
+character. And in France this black hood was under restriction; only
+ladies of the French court were permitted to wear velvet hoods, and
+only women of station and dignity, black hoods.
+
+This black hood was dignified in allegorical literature as “the
+venerable hood,” and was ever chosen by limners to cover the head of
+any woman of age or dignity who was to be depicted.
+
+In the _Ladies’ Dictionary_ a hood is defined thus: “A Dutch attire
+covering the head, face and all the body.” And the long cloak with this
+draped hood, which must have been much like the Shaker cloak of to-day,
+seems to have been deemed a Dutch garment. It was warm and comfortable
+enough to be adopted readily by the English Pilgrims in Holland. It had
+come to England, however, in an earlier century. Of Ellinor Rummin, the
+alewife, Skelton wrote about the year 1500:—
+
+
+“A Hake of Lincoln greene
+It had been hers I weene
+More than fortye yeare
+And soe it doth appeare
+And the green bare threds
+Looked like sere wedes
+Withered like hay
+The wool worn awaye
+And yet I dare saye
+She thinketh herself gaye
+Upon a holy day.”
+
+
+It is impossible to know how old this hood is. When I have fancied I
+had the earliest reference that could be found, I would soon come to
+another a few years earlier. We know positively from the _Lisle Papers_
+that it was worn in England by the name “French hood” in 1540. Anne
+Basset, daughter of Lady Lisle, had come into the household of the
+queen of Henry VIII, who at the time was Anne of Cleves. The “French
+Apparell” which the maid of honor fetched from Calais was not pleasing
+to the queen, who promptly ordered the young girl to wear “a velvet
+bonnet with a frontlet and edge of pearls.” These bonnets are familiar
+to us on the head of Anne’s predecessor, Anne Boleyn. They were worn
+even by young children. One is shown here. The young lady borrowed a
+bonnet; and a factor named Husee—the biggest gossip of his day—promptly
+chronicles to her mother, “I saw her (Anne Basset) yesterday in her
+velvet bonnet that my Lady Sussex had tired her in, and thought it
+became her nothing so well as the French hood,—but the Queen’s pleasure
+must be done!”
+
+
+Hannah Callowhill Penn. Hannah Callowhill Penn.
+
+Doubtless some of the Pilgrim Mothers wore bonnets like this one of
+Anne Basset’s, especially if the wearer were a widow, when there was
+also an under frontlet which was either plain, plaited, or folded, but
+which came in a distinct point in the middle of the forehead.
+
+This cap, or bandeau, with point on the forehead, is precisely the
+widow’s cap worn by Catherine de Medicis. She was very severe in dress,
+but she introduced the wearing of neck-ruffs. She also wore hoods, the
+favorite head-covering of all Frenchwomen at that time. This form of
+head-gear was sometimes called a widow’s peak, on account of a similar
+peak of black silk or white being often worn by widows, apparently of
+all European nations. Magdalen Beeckman, an American woman of Dutch
+descent (here), wears one. The name is still applied to a pointed
+growth of hair on the forehead. It has also been known as a headdress
+of Mary Queen of Scots, because some of her portraits display this
+pointed outline of head-gear. It continued until the time of Charles
+II. It is often found on church brasses, and was plainly a head-gear of
+dignity. A modified form is shown in the portrait of Lady Mary Armine.
+
+Stubbes in his _Anatomie of Abuses_ gives a notion of the importance of
+the French hood when he speaks of the straining of all classes for rich
+attire: that “every artificer’s wife” will not go without her hat of
+velvet every day; “every merchant’s wife and meane gentlewoman” must be
+in her “French hood”; and “every poor man’s daughter” in her “taffatie
+hat or of wool at least.” We have seen what a fierce controversy burned
+over Madam Johnson’s “schowish” velvet hood.
+
+An excellent account of this black hood as worn by the Puritans is
+given in rhyme in “Hudibras _Redivivus_,” a long poem utterly worthless
+save for the truthful descriptions of dress; it runs:—
+
+
+“The black silk Hood, with formal pride
+First roll’d, beneath the chin was tied
+So close, so very trim and neat,
+So round, so formal, so complete,
+That not one jag of wicked lace
+Or rag of linnen white had place
+Betwixt the black bag and the face,
+Which peep’d from out the sable hood
+Like Luna from a sullen cloud.”
+
+
+It was doubtless selected by the women followers of Fox on account of
+its ancient record of sobriety and sanctity.
+
+
+“Are the pinch’d cap and formal hood the emblems of sanctity? Does your
+virtue consist in your dress, Mrs. Prim?”
+
+
+writes Mrs. Centlivre in _A Bold Stroke for a Wife_.
+
+The black hood was worn long by Quaker women ere they adopted the
+beaver hat of the eighteenth century, and the poke-bonnet of the
+nineteenth century. Here is given a portrait of Hannah Callowhill Penn,
+a Quaker, the second wife of William Penn. She was a sensible woman
+brought up in a home where British mercantile thrift vied with Quaker
+belief in adherence to sober attire, and her portrait plainly shows her
+character. Penn’s young and pretty wife of his youth wears a
+fashionable pocket-hoop and rich brocade dress; but she wears likewise
+the simple black hood (here).
+
+The dominance of this black French hood came not, however, through its
+wear by sober-faced, discreet English Puritans and Quakers, but through
+a French influence, a court influence, the earnestness of its adoption
+by Madame de Maintenon, wife of King Louis XIV of France. The whole
+dress of this strange ascetic would by preference have been that of a
+penitent; but the king had a dislike of anything like mourning, so she
+wore dresses of some dark color other than black, generally a dull
+brown. The conventual aspect of her attire was added to by this large
+black hood, which was her constant wear, and is seen in her portraits.
+The life at court became melancholy, dejected, filled with icy reserve.
+And Madame, whether she rode “shut up in a close chair,” says Duclos,
+“to avoid the least breath of air, while the King walked by her side,
+taking off his hat each time he stopped to speak to her”; or when she
+attended services in the chapel, sitting in a closed gallery; or even
+in her own sombre apartments, bending in silence over ecclesiastic
+needlework,—everywhere, her narrow, yellow, livid face was shadowed and
+buried in this black hood.
+
+
+Madame de Miramion. Madame de Miramion.
+
+Her strange power over the king was in force in 1681, and, until his
+death in 1715, this sable hood, so unlike the French taste, covered the
+heads of French women of all ages and ranks. The genial, almost
+quizzical countenance of that noble and charitable woman, Madame de
+Miramion, wears a like hood.
+
+This French hood is prominent everywhere in book illustrations of the
+eighteenth century and even of earlier years. The loosely tied corners
+and the sides appear under the straw hats upon many of the figures in
+Tempest’s _Cryes of London_, 1698, such as the Milk woman, the “Newes”
+woman, etc., which publication, I may say in passing, is a wonderful
+source for the student of everyday costume. I give the Strawberry Girl
+on this page to show the ordinary form of the French hood on plain
+folk. _Misson’s Memories_, published also in 1698, it gives the
+milkmaids on Mayday in like hoods. The early editions of Hudibras show
+these hoods, and in Hogarth’s works they may be seen; not always of
+black, of course, in later years, but ever of the same shape.
+
+
+The Strawberry Girl. The Strawberry Girl.
+
+The hood worn by the Normans was called a chaperon. It was a sort of
+pointed bag with an oval opening for the face; sometimes the point was
+of great length, and was twisted, folded, knotted. In the Bodleian
+Library is a drawing of eleven figures of young lads and girls playing
+_Hoodman-blind_ or _Blindman’s-buff_. The latter name came from the
+buffet or blow which the players gave with their twisted chaperon
+hoods. The blind man simply put his hood on “hind side afore,” and was
+effectually blinded. These figures are of the fifteenth century.
+
+
+Black Silk Hood. Black Silk Hood.
+
+The wild latitude of spelling often makes it difficult to define an
+article of dress. I have before me a letter of the year 1704, written
+in Boston, asking that a riding-hood be sent from England of any color
+save yellow; and one sentence of the instructions reads thus, “If ’tis
+velvet let it be a shabbaroon; if of cloth, a French hood.” I abandoned
+“shabbaroon” as a wholly lost word; until Mrs. Gummere announced that
+the word was chaperon, from the Norman hood just described. This
+chaperon is specifically the hood worn by the Knights of the Garter
+when in full dress; in general it applies to any ample hood which
+completely covers head and face save for eye-holes. Another hood was
+the sortie.
+
+
+Quilted Hood. Quilted Hood.
+
+The term “coif,” spelt in various ways, quoif, quoiffe, coiffer,
+ciffer, quoiffer, has been held to apply to the French hood; but it
+certainly did not in America, for I find often in inventories side by
+side items of black silk hoods and another of quoifs, which I believe
+were the white undercaps worn with the French hood; just as a coif was
+the close undercap for men’s wear.
+
+Through the two centuries following the assumption of the French hood
+came a troop of hoods, though sometimes under other names. In 1664
+Pepys tells of his wife’s yellow bird’s-eye hood, “very fine, to
+church, as the fashion now is.” Planché says hoods were not displaced
+by caps and bonnets till George II’s time.
+
+In the list of the “wedding apparell” of Madam Phillips, of Boston, are
+velvet hoods, love-hoods, and “sneal hoods”; hoods of Persian, of
+lustring, of gauze; frequently scarlet hoods are named. In 1712 Richard
+Hall sent, from Barbadoes to Boston, a trunk of his deceased wife’s
+finery to be sold, among which was “one black Flowered Gauze Hoode,”
+and he added rather spitefully that he “could send better but it would
+be too rich for Boston.” He was a grandson of Madam Symonds of Ipswich.
+Furbelowed gauze hoods were then owned by Boston women, and must have
+been pretty things. Their delicacy has kept them from being preserved
+as have been velvet and Persian hoods.
+
+For the years 1673 to 1721 we have a personal record of domestic life
+in Boston, a diary which is the sole storehouse to which we can turn
+for intimate knowledge of daily deeds in that little town. A scant
+record it is, as to wearing apparel; for the diary-writer, Samuel
+Sewall, sometime business man, friend, neighbor, councillor, judge,—and
+always Puritan,—had not a regard of dress as had his English
+contemporary, the gay Samuel Pepys, or even that sober English
+gentleman, John Evelyn. In Pepys’s pages we have frequent and
+light-giving entries as to dress, interested and interesting entries.
+In Judge Sewall’s diary, any references to dress are wholly accidental
+and not related as matters of any moment, save one important exception,
+his attitude toward wigs and wig-wearing. I could wish Sewall had had a
+keener eye for dress, for he wrote in strong, well-ordered English; and
+when he was deeply moved he wrote with much color in his pen. The most
+spirited episodes in the book are the judge’s remarkable and varied
+courtships after he was left a widower at the age of sixty-five, and
+again when sixty-eight. While thus courting he makes almost his sole
+reference to women’s dress,—that Madam Mico when he called came to him
+in a splendid dress, and that Madam Winthrop’s dress, _after she had
+refused him_, was “not so clean as sometime it had been.” But an
+article of his own dress, nevertheless, formed an important factor in
+his unsuccessful courtship of Madam Winthrop—his hood. When all the
+other widowers of the community, dignified magistrates, parsons, and
+men of professions, all bourgeoned out in stately full-bottomed wigs,
+what woman would want to have a lover who came a-courting in a hood? A
+detachable hood with a cloak, I doubt not he wore, like the one owned
+by Judge Curwen, his associate in that terrible tale of Salem’s
+bigotry, cruelty, and credulity, the Witchcraft Trial. I cannot fancy
+Judge Sewall in a scarlet cloak and hood—a sad-colored one seems more
+in keeping with his temperament.
+
+Perhaps our old friend, the judge, wore his hood under his hat, as did
+the sober citizens in Piers Plowman; and as did judges in England.
+
+It is certain that many men wore hoods; and they wore occasionally a
+garment which was really woman’s wear, namely, a “riding hood”; which
+was also called a Dutch hood, and was like Elinor Rummin’s hake. This
+riding-hood was really more of a cloak than a head-covering, as it
+often had arm-holes. It might well be classed with cloaks. I may say
+here that it is not possible, either by years or by topics, to isolate
+completely each chapter of this book from the other. Its very
+arrangement, being both by chronology and subject, gives me
+considerable liberty, which I now take in this chapter, by retaining
+the riding-hood among hoods, simply because of its name.
+
+
+Pink Silk Hood. Pink Silk Hood.
+
+
+Pug Hood. Pug Hood.
+
+On May 6, 1717, the _Boston News Letter_ gave a description of a gayly
+attired Indian runaway; she wore off a “red Camblet Ryding Hood fac’d
+with blue.” Another servant absconded with an orange-colored
+riding-hood with arm-holes. I have an ancient pattern of a riding-hood;
+it was found in the bottom of an old hair-covered trunk. It was marked
+“London Ryding Hood.” With it were rolled several packages of bits of
+woollen stuff, one of scarlet broadcloth, one of blue camlet, plainly
+labelled “Cuttings from Apphia’s ryding hood” and “Pieces from Mary’s
+ryding hood,” showing that they had been placed there with the pattern
+when the hood was cut. It is a cape, cut in a deep point in front and
+back; the extreme length of the points from the collar being about
+twenty-six inches. The hood is precisely like the one on Judge Curwen’s
+cloak, like the hoods of Shaker cloaks. As bits of silk are rolled with
+the wool pieces, I infer that these riding-hoods were silk lined.
+
+A most romantic name was given to the riding-hood after the battle of
+Preston in 1715. The Earl of Nithsdale, after the defeat of the
+Jacobites, was imprisoned in the Tower of London under sentence of
+death. From thence he made his escape through his wife’s coolness and
+ingenuity. She visited him dressed in a large riding-hood which could
+be drawn closely over her face. He escaped in her dress and hood, fled
+to the continent, and lived thirty years in safety in France. After
+that dashing rescue, these hoods were known as Nithsdales. The
+head-covering portion still resembled the French hood, but the
+shoulder-covering portion was circular and ruffled—according to
+Hogarth. In Durfey’s _Wit and Mirth_, 1719, is a spirited song
+commemorating this “sacred wife,” who—
+
+
+“by her Wits immortal pains
+With her quick head has saved his brains.”
+
+
+One verse runs thus:—
+
+
+“Let Traitors against Kings conspire
+Let secret spies great Statesmen hire,
+Nought shall be by detection got
+If Woman may have leave to plot.
+There’s nothing clos’d with Bars or Locks
+Can hinder Night-rayls, Pinners, Smocks;
+For they will everywhere make good
+As now they’ve done the Riding-hood.”
+
+
+In 1737 “pug hoods” were in fashion. We have no proof of their shape,
+though I am told they were the close, plain, silk hood sometimes worn
+under other hoods. One is shown here. Pumpkin hoods of thickly wadded
+wool were prodigiously hot head-coverings; they were crudely pumpkin
+shaped. Knitted hoods, under such names as “comforters,” “fascinators,”
+“rigolettes,” “nubias,” “opera hoods,” “molly hoods,” are of
+nineteenth-century invention.
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS
+
+
+_“Within my memory the Ladies covered their lovely Necks with a Cloak,
+this was exchanged for the Manteel; this again was succeeded by the
+Pelorine; the Pelorine by the Neckatee; the Neckatee by the Capuchin,
+which hath now stood its ground for a long time.”_
+
+—“Covent Garden Journal,” May 1, 1752.
+
+
+_“Mary Wallace and Clemintina Ferguson Just arrived from the Kingdom of
+Ireland intend to follow the business of Mantua making and have
+furnished themselves from London in patterns of the following kinds of
+wear, and have fixed a correspondence so to have from thence the
+earliest Fashions in Miniature. They are at Peter Clarke’s within two
+doors of William Walton’s, Esq., in the Fly. Ladies and Gentlemen that
+employ them may depend on being expeditiously and reasonably served in
+making the following Articles, that is to say—Sacks, Negligees,
+Negligee-night-gowns, plain-nightgowns, pattanlears, shepherdesses,
+Roman cloaks, Cardinals, Capuchins, Dauphinesses, Shades lorrains,
+Bonnets and Hives.”_
+
+—“New York Mercury,” May, 1757.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS
+
+
+U
+
+
+nder the general heading of cloaks I intend to write of the various
+capelike shoulder-coverings, for both men and women, which were worn in
+the two centuries of costume whereof this book treats. Often it is
+impossible to determine whether a garment should be classed as a hood
+or a cloak, for so many cloaks were made with head-coverings. Both
+capuchins and cardinals, garments of popularity for over a century, had
+hoods, and were worn as head-gear.
+
+There is shown here a full, long cloak of rich scarlet broadcloth,
+which is the oldest cloak I know. It has an interesting and romantic
+history. No relic in Salem is more noteworthy than this. It has
+survived since witchcraft days; and with right care, care such as it
+receives from its present owner, will last a thousand years. It was
+worn by Judge Curwen, one of the judges in those dark hours for Salem;
+and is still owned by Miss Bessie Curwen, his descendant. It will be
+noted that it bears a close resemblance to the Shaker cloaks of to-day,
+though the hood is handsomer. This hood also is detached from the cape.
+The presiding justice in the Salem witchcraft trials was William
+Stoughton, a severe Puritan. In later years Judge Sewall, his
+fellow-judge, in an agony of contrition, remorse, self-reproach,
+self-abnegation, and exceeding sorrow at those judicial murders, stood
+in Boston meeting-house, at a Sabbath service while his pastor read
+aloud his confession of his cruel error, his expression of his remorse
+therefor. A striking figure is he in our history. No thoughtful person
+can regard without emotions of tenderest sympathy and admiration that
+benignant white-haired head, with black skullcap, bowed in public
+disgrace, which was really his honor. But Judge Stoughton never
+expressed, in public or private, remorse or even regret. I doubt if he
+ever felt either. He plainly deemed his action right. I wish he could
+tell us what he thinks of it now. In his portrait here he wears a
+skullcap, as does Judge Sewall in his portrait, and a cloak with a cape
+like that of his third associate, Judge Curwen. Judge Sewall had both
+cloak and hood. Possibly all judges wore them. Judge Stoughton’s cloak
+has a rich collar and a curious clasp.
+
+
+Scarlet Broadcloth Hooded Cloak. Scarlet Broadcloth Hooded Cloak.
+
+Stubbes of course told of the fashion of cloak-wearing:—
+
+
+“They have clokes also in nothing discrepant from the rest; of dyverse
+and sundry colours, white red tawnie black, green yellow russet purple
+violet and an infinyte of other colours. Some of cloth silk velvet
+taffetie and such like; some of the Spanish French or Dutch fashion.
+Some short, scarcely reaching to the gyrdlestead or waist, some to the
+knee, and othersome trayling upon the ground almost like gownes than
+clokes. These clokes must be garded laced &; thorouly full, and
+sometimes so lined as the inner side standeth almost in as much as the
+outside. Some have sleeves, othersome have none. Some have hoodes to
+pull over the head, some have none. Some are hanged with points and
+tassels of gold silver silk, some without all this. But howsoever it
+bee, the day hath bene when one might have bought him two Clokes for
+lesse than now he can have one of these Clokes made for. They have such
+store of workmanship bestowed upon them.”
+
+
+It is such descriptions as this that make me regard in admiration this
+ancient Puritan. Would that I had the power of his pen! Fashion-plates,
+forsooth! The _Journal of the Modes_!—pray, what need have we of any
+pictures or any mantua-maker’s words when we can have such a
+description as this. Why! the man had a perfect genius for millinery!
+Had he lived three centuries later, we might have had Master Stubbes in
+full control (openly or secretly, according to his environment) of some
+dress-making or tailoring establishment _pour les dames_.
+
+The lining of these cloaks was often very gay in color and costly;
+“standing in as much as the outside.” We find a son of Governor
+Winthrop writing in 1606:—
+
+
+“I desire you to bring me a very good camlet cloake lyned with what you
+like except blew. It may be purple or red or striped with those or
+other colors if so worn suitable and fashionable.... I would make a
+hard shift rather than not have the cloak.”
+
+
+Similar cloaks of scarlet, and of blue lined with scarlet, formed part
+of the uniform of soldiers for many years and for many nations. They
+were certainly the wear of thrifty comfortable English gentlemen. Did
+not John Gilpin wear one on his famous ride?
+
+
+“There was all that he might be
+  Equipped from head to toe,
+His long red cloak well-brushed and neat
+  He manfully did throw.”
+
+
+Scarlet was a most popular color for all articles of dress in the early
+years of the eighteenth century. Like the good woman in the Book of
+Proverbs, both English and American housewife “clothed her household in
+scarlet.” Women as well as men wore these scarlet cloaks. It is curious
+to learn from Mrs. Gummere that even Quakers wore scarlet. When
+Margaret Fell married George Fox, greatest of Quakers, he bought her a
+scarlet mantle. And in 1678 he sent her scarlet cloth for another
+mantle. There was good reason in the wear of scarlet; it both was warm
+and looked warm; and the color was a lasting one. It did not fade like
+many of the homemade dyes.
+
+
+Judge Stoughton. Judge Stoughton.
+
+A very interesting study is that of color in wearing apparel. Beginning
+with the few crude dyes of mediaeval days, we could trace the history
+of dyeing, and the use and invention of new colors and tints. The names
+of these colors are delightful; the older quaint titles seem
+wonderfully significant. We read of such tints as billymot, phillymurt,
+or philomot (feuille-mort), murry, blemmish, gridolin (gris-de-lin or
+flax blossom), puce colour, foulding colour, Kendal green, Lincoln
+green, treen-colour, watchet blue, barry, milly, tuly, stammel red,
+Bristol red, zaffer-blue, which was either sapphire-blue or
+zaffre-blue, and a score of fanciful names whose signification and
+identification were lost with the death of the century. Historical
+events were commemorated in new hues; we have the political,
+diplomatic, and military history of various countries hinted to us.
+Great discoveries and inventions give names to colors. The materials
+and methods of dyeing, especially domestic dyes, are most interesting.
+An allied topic is the significance of colors, the limitation of their
+use. For instance, the study of blue would fill a chapter. The dress of
+’prentices and serving-men in Elizabeth’s day was always blue blue
+cloaks in winter, blue coats in summer. Blue was not precisely a
+livery; it was their color, the badge of their condition in life, as
+black is now a parson’s. Different articles of dress clung to certain
+colors. Green stockings had their time and season of clothing the
+sturdy legs of English dames as inevitably as green stalks filled the
+fields. Think of the years of domination of the green apron; of the
+black hood—it is curious indeed.
+
+In such exhaustive books upon special topics as the _History of the
+Twelve Great Livery Companies of London_ we find wonderfully
+interesting and significant proof of the power of color; also in many
+the restrictive sumptuary laws of the Crown.
+
+It would appear that this long, scarlet cloak never was out of wear for
+men and women until the nineteenth century. It was, at times, not the
+height of the fashion, but still was worn. Various ancient citizens of
+Boston, of Salem, are recalled through letter or traditions as clinging
+long to this comfortable cloak. Samuel Adams carried a scarlet cloak
+with him when he went to Washington.
+
+I shall tell in a later chapter of my own great-great-grandmother’s
+wear of a scarlet cloak until the opening years of the nineteenth
+century. During and after the Revolution these cloaks remained in high
+favor for women. French officers, writing home to France glowing
+accounts of the fair Americans, noted often that the ladies wore
+scarlet cloaks, and Madame Riedesel asserted that all gentlewomen in
+Canada never left the house save in a scarlet silk or cloth cloak.
+
+“A woman’s long scarlet cloak, almost new with a double cape,” had been
+one of the articles feloniously taken from the house of Benjamin
+Franklin, printer, in Philadelphia, in 1750. Debby Franklin’s dress, if
+we can judge from what was stolen, was a gay revel of color. Among the
+articles was one gown having a pattern of “large red roses and other
+large yellow flowers with blue in some of the flowers with many green
+leaves.”
+
+In the _Life of Jonathan Trumbull_ we read that when a collection was
+taken in the Lebanon church for the benefit of the soldiers of the
+Continental army, when money, jewels, clothing, and food were gathered
+in a great heap near the pulpit, Madam Faith Trumbull rose up, threw
+from her shoulders her splendid scarlet cloth cloak, a gift from Count
+Rochambeau, advanced to the altar and laid the cloak with other
+offerings of patriotism and generosity. It was used, we are told, to
+trim the uniforms of the Continental officers and soldiers.
+
+
+Woman’s Cloak. From Hogarth. Woman’s Cloak. From Hogarth.
+
+One of the first entries in regard to dress made by Philip Fithian in
+1773, when he went to Virginia as a school-teacher, was that “almost
+every Lady wears a Red Cloak; and when they ride out they tye a Red
+Handkerchief over their Head &; Face; so when I first came to Virginia,
+I was distrest whenever I saw a Lady, for I thought she had the
+Tooth-Ach!” When the young tutor left his charge a year later, he wrote
+a long letter of introduction, instruction, and advice to his
+successor; and so much impression had this riding-dress still upon him
+that he recounted at length the “Masked Ladies,” as he calls them,
+explaining that the whole neck and face was covered, save a narrow slit
+for the eyes, as if they had “the Mumps or Tooth-Ach.” It is possible
+that the insect torments encountered by the fair riders may have been
+the reason for this cloaking and masking. Not only mosquitoes and flies
+and fleas were abundant, but Fithian tells of the irritating illness
+and high fever of the fairest of his little flock from being bitten
+with ticks, “which cover her like a distinct smallpox.”
+
+In seventeenth-century inventories an occasional item is a rocket. I
+think no better description of a rocket can be given than that of Celia
+Fiennes:—
+
+
+“You meete all sorts of countrywomen wrapped up in the mantles called
+West Country Rockets, a large mantle doubled together, of a sort of
+serge, some are linsey-woolsey and a deep fringe or fag at the lower
+end; these hang down, some to their feet, some only just below the
+waist; in the summer they are all in white garments of this sort, in
+the winter they are in red ones.”
+
+
+This would seem much like a blanket shawl, but the word was also
+applied to the scarlet round cloak.
+
+Another much-used name and cloaklike garment was the roquelaure. A very
+good contemporary definition may be copied from _A Treatise on the
+Modes_, 1715; it says it is “a short abridgement or compendium of a
+coat which is dedicated to the Duke of Roquelaure.” It was simply a
+shorter cloak than had been worn, and it was hoodless; for the great
+curled wigs with heavy locks well over the shoulders made hoods
+superfluous; and even impossible, for men’s wear. It was very speedily
+taken into favor by women; and soon the advertisements of lost articles
+show that it was worn by women universally as by men. In the _Boston
+News Letter_, in 1730, a citizen advertises that he has lost his “Blue
+Cloak or Roculo with brass buttons.” This was the first of an ingenious
+series of misspellings which produced at times a word almost unrelated
+to the original French word. Rocklow, rockolet, roquelo, rochelo,
+roquello, and even rotkello have I found. Ashton says that scarlet
+cloth was the favorite fabric for roquelaures in England; and he deems
+the scarlet roclows and rocliers with gold loops and buttons “exceeding
+magnifical.” I note in the American advertisements that the lost
+roquelaures are of very bright colors; some were of silk, some of
+camlet; generally they are simply ‘cloth.’ Many of the American
+roquelaures had double capes. I think those handsome, gay cloaks must
+have given a very bright, cheerful aspect to the town streets of the
+middle of the eighteenth century.
+
+Sir William Pepperell, who was ever a little shaky in his spelling, but
+possibly no more so than his neighbors, sent in 1737 from Piscataqua to
+one Hooper in England for “A Handsom Rockolet for my daughter of about
+15 yrs. old, or what is ye Most Newest Fashion for one of her age to
+ware at meeting in ye Winter Season.”
+
+The capuchin was a hooded cloak named from the hooded garment worn by
+the Capuchin monks. The date 1752 given by Fairholt as an early date of
+its wear is far wrong. Fielding used the word in _Tom Jones_ in 1749;
+other English publications, in 1709; and I find it in the _Letters of
+Madame de Sévigné_ as early as 1686. The cardinal, worn at the same
+date, was originally of scarlet cloth, and I find was generally of some
+wool stuff. At one time I felt sure that cardinal was always the name
+for the woollen cloak, and capuchin of the silken one; but now I am a
+bit uncertain whether this is a rule. Judging from references in
+literature and advertisements, the capuchin was a richer garment than
+the cardinal. Capuchins were frequently trimmed liberally with lace,
+ribbons, and robings; were made of silk with gauze ruffles, or of
+figured velvet. One is here shown which is taken from one of Hogarth’s
+prints.
+
+
+A Capuchin. From Hogarth. A Capuchin. From Hogarth.
+
+This notice is from the _Boston Evening Post_ of January 13, 1772:—
+
+
+“Taken from Concert Hall on Thursday Evening a handsom Crimson Satin
+Capuchin trimmed with a rich white Blond Lace with a narrow Blond Lace
+on the upper edge Lined with White Sarsnet.”
+
+
+In 1752 capuchins and cardinals were much worn, especially purple ones.
+The _Connoisseur_ says all colors were neglected for purple. “In purple
+we glowed from hat to shoe. In such request were ribbons and silks of
+that famous color that neither milliner mercer nor dyer could meet the
+demand.”
+
+The names “cardinal” and “capuchin” had been derived from monkish wear,
+and the cape, called a pelerine, had an allied derivation; it is said
+to be derived from _pèlerin_—meaning a pilgrim. It was a small cape
+with longer ends hanging in front; and was invented as a light, easily
+adjustable covering for the ladies’ necks, which had been left so
+widely and coldly bare by the low-cut French bodices. It is said that
+the garment was invented in France in 1671. I do not find the word in
+use in America till 1730. Then mantua-makers advertised that they would
+make them. Various materials were used, from soft silk and thin cloth
+to rich velvet; but silk pelerines were more common.
+
+In 1743, in the _Boston News Letter_, Henrietta Maria East advertised
+that “Ladies may have their Pellerines made” at her mantua-making shop.
+In 1749 “pellerines” were advertised for sale in the _Boston Gazette_
+and a black velvet “pellerine” was lost.
+
+In the quotation heading this chapter, manteel, pelerine, and neckatee
+precede the capuchin; but in fact the capuchin is as old as the
+pelerine. Beyond the fact that all mantua-makers made neckatees, and
+that they were a small cape, this garment cannot be described. It
+required much less stuff than either capuchin or cardinal. The
+“manteel” was, of course, as old as the cloak. Elijah “took his mantle
+and wrapped it together, and smote the waters.” In the Middle Ages the
+mantle was a great piece of cloth in any cloaklike shape, of which the
+upper corners were fastened at the neck. Often one of the front edges
+was thrown over one shoulder. In the varied forms of spelling and
+wearing, as manto, manteau, mantoon, mantelet, and mantilla the
+foundation is the same. We have noted the richness and elegance of
+Madam Symonds’s mantua. We could not forget the word and its
+signification while we have so important a use of it in mantua-maker.
+
+
+Lady Caroline Montagu. Lady Caroline Montagu.
+
+Dauphiness was the name of a certain style of mantle, which was most
+popular about 1750. Harriot Paine had “Dauphiness Mantles” for sale in
+Boston in 1755. A rude drawing in an old letter indicates that the
+“Dauphiness” had a deep point at the back, and was cut up high at the
+arm-hole. It was of thin silk, and was trimmed all around the lower
+edge with a deep, full frill of the silk, which at the arm-hole fell
+over the arm like a short sleeve.
+
+Many were the names of those pretty little cloaks and capes which were
+worn with the sacque-shaped gowns. The duchess was one; we revived the
+name for a similar mantle in 1870. The pelisse was in France the cloak
+with arm-holes, shown, here, upon one of Sir Joshua Reynolds’s engaging
+children. The pelisse in America sometimes had sleeves, I am sure; and
+was hardly a cloak. It is difficult to classify some forms which seem
+almost jackets. A general distinction may be made not to include
+sleeved garments with the cloaks; but several of the manteaus had
+loose, large, flowing sleeves, and some like Madam Symonds’s had
+detached sleeves. It is also difficult to know whether some of the
+negligees were cloaks or sacque-like gowns. And there is the other
+extreme; some of the smaller, circular neck-coverings like the
+van-dykes are not cloaks. They are scarcely capes; they are merely
+collars; but there are still others which are a bit bigger and are
+certainly capes. And are there not also capes, like the neckatee, which
+may be termed cloaks? Material, too, is bewildering; a light gauze
+thing of ribbons and furbelows like the Unella is not really a cloak,
+yet it takes a cloaklike form. There are no cut and dried rules as to
+size, form, or weight of these cloaks, capes, collars, and hoods, so I
+have formed my own classes and assignments.
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN
+
+
+_“Rise up to thy Elders, put off thy Hat, make a Leg”_
+
+—“Janua Linguarum,” COMENIUS, 1664.
+
+
+_“Little ones are taught to be proud of their clothes before they can
+put them on.”_
+
+—“Essay on Human Understanding,” LOCKE, 1687.
+
+
+_“When thou thyself, a watery, pulpy, slobbery Freshman and newcomer on
+this Planet, sattest mewling in thy nurse’s arms; sucking thy coral,
+and looking forth into the world in the blankest manner, what hadst
+thou been without thy blankets and bibs and other nameless hulls?”_
+
+—“Sartor Resartus,” THOMAS CARLYLE, 1836.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN
+
+
+W
+
+
+hen we reflect that in any community the number of “the younger sort”
+is far larger than of grown folk, when we know, too, what large
+families our ancestors had, in all the colonies, we must deem any
+picture of social life, any history of costume, incomplete unless the
+dress of children is shown. French and English books upon costume are
+curiously silent regarding such dress. It might be alleged as a reason
+for this singular silence that the dress of young children was for
+centuries precisely that of their elders, and needed no specification.
+But infants’ dress certainly was widely different, and full of historic
+interest, as well as quaint prettiness; and there were certain details
+of the dress of older children that were most curious and were wholly
+unlike the contemporary garb of their elders; sometimes these details
+were survivals of ancient modes for grown folk, sometimes their name
+was a survival while their form had changed.
+
+For the dress of children of the early years of colonial life—the
+seventeenth century—I have an unusual group of five portraits. One is
+the little Padishal child, shown with her mother in the frontispiece,
+one is Robert Gibbes (shown here). The third child is said to be John
+Quincy—his picture is opposite this page. The two portraits of Margaret
+and Henry Gibbes are owned in Virginia; but are too dimly photographed
+for reproduction. The portrait of Robert Gibbes is owned by inheritance
+by Miss Sarah B. Hager, of Kendal Green, Massachusetts. It is well
+preserved, having hung for over a hundred years on the same wall in the
+old house. He was four years old when this portrait was painted. It is
+marked 1670. John Quincy’s portrait is marked also plainly as one and a
+half years old, and with a date which is a bit dimmed; it is either
+1670 or 1690. If it is 1690, the picture can be that of John Quincy,
+though he would scarcely be as large as is the portrayed figure. If the
+date is 1670, it cannot be John Quincy, for he was born in 1689. The
+picture has the same checker-board floor as the three other Gibbes
+portraits, four rows of squares wide; and the child’s toes are set at
+the same row as are the toes of the shoes in the picture of Robert
+Gibbes.
+
+The portraits of Henry and Margaret Gibbes are also marked plainly
+1670. There was a fourth Gibbes child, who would have been just the age
+of the subject of the Quincy portrait; and it is natural that there
+should be a suspicion that this fourth portrait is of the fourth Gibbes
+child, not of John Quincy.
+
+
+John Quincy. John Quincy.
+
+Margaret Gibbes was born in 1663. Henry Gibbes was born in 1667. He
+became a Congregational minister. His daughter married Nathaniel
+Appleton, and through Nathaniel, John, Dr. John S., and John, the
+portrait, with that of Margaret, came to the present owner, General
+John W. S. Appleton, of Charlestown, West Virginia.
+
+The dress of these five children is of the same rich materials that
+would be worn by their mothers. The Padishal child wears black velvet
+like her mother’s gown; but her frock is brightened with scarlet points
+of color. The linings of the velvet hanging sleeves, the ribbon knots
+of the white virago-sleeve, the shoe-tip, the curious cap-tassel, are
+of bright scarlet. We have noted the dominance of scarlet in old
+English costumes. It was evidently the only color favored for children.
+The lace cap, the rich lace stomacher, the lace-edged apron, all are of
+Flemish lace. Margaret Gibbes wears a frock of similar shape, and
+equally rich and dark in color; it is a heavy brocade of blue and red,
+with a bit of yellow. Her fine apron, stomacher, and full sleeves are
+rich in needlework. Robert Gibbes’s “coat,” as a boy’s dress at that
+age then was called, is a striking costume. The inmost sleeves are of
+white lawn, over them are sleeves made of strips of galloon of a
+pattern in yellow, white, scarlet, and black, with a rolled cuff of red
+velvet. There is a similar roll around the hem of the coat. Still
+further sleeves are hanging sleeves of velvet trimmed with the galloon.
+
+It will be noted that his hanging sleeve is cut square and trimmed
+squarely across the end. It is similar to the sleeves worn at the same
+time by citizens of London in their formal “liveryman’s” dress, which
+had bands like pockets, that sometimes really were pockets.
+
+His plain, white, hemstitched band would indicate that he was a boy,
+did not the swing of his petticoats plainly serve to show it, as do
+also his brothers’ “coats.” That child knew well what it was to tread
+and trip on those hated petticoats as he went upstairs. I know how he
+begged for breeches. The apron of John Quincy varies slightly in shape
+from that of the other boy, but the general dress is like, save his
+pretty, gay, scarlet hood, worn over a white lace cap. One unique
+detail of these Gibbes portraits, and the Quincy portrait, is the
+shoes. In all four, the shoes are of buff leather, with absolutely
+square toes, with a thick, scarlet sole to which the buff-leather upper
+seems tacked with a row either of long, thick, white stitches or of
+heavy metal-headed nails; these white dots are very ornamental. One
+pair of the shoes has great scarlet roses on the instep. The square toe
+was distinctly a Cavalier fashion. It is in Miss Campion’s portrait,
+facing this page, and in the print of the Prince of Orange here, and is
+found in many portraits of the day. But these American shoes are in the
+minor details entirely unlike any English shoes I have seen in any
+collection elsewhere, and are most interesting. They were doubtless
+English in make.
+
+The portrait of John Quincy resembles much in its dress that of Oliver
+Cromwell when two years old, the picture now at Chequers Court.
+Cromwell’s linen collar is rounded, and a curious ornament is worn in
+front, as a little girl would wear a locket. The whole throat and a
+little of the upper neck is bare. Dark hair, slightly curled, comes out
+from the close cap in front of the ears. This picture of Cromwell
+distinctly resembles his mother’s portrait.
+
+
+Miss Campion, 1667. Miss Campion, 1667.
+
+The quaint tassel or rosette or feather on the cap of the Padishal
+child was a fashion of the day. It is seen in many Dutch portraits of
+children. In a curious old satirical print of Oliver Cromwell preaching
+are the figures of two little children drawn standing by their mother’s
+side. One child’s back is turned for our sight, and shows us what might
+well be the back of the gown of the Padishal child. The cap has the
+same ornament on the crown, and the hanging sleeves—of similar
+form—have, at intervals of a few inches apart from shoulder to heel, an
+outside embellishment of knots of ribbon. There is also a band or strip
+of embroidery or passementerie up the back of the gown from skirt-hem
+to lace collar, with a row of buttons on the strip. This proves that
+the dress was fastened in the back, as the stiff, unbroken, white
+stomacher also indicates. The other child is evidently a boy. His gown
+is long and fur-edged. His cap is round like a Scotch bonnet, and has
+also a tuft or rosette at the crown. On either side hang long strings
+or ribbon bands reaching from the cap edge to the knee.
+
+These portraits of these little American children display nothing of
+that God-given attribute which we call genius, but they do possess a
+certain welcome trait, which is truthfulness; a hard attention to
+detail, which confers on them a quality of exactness of likeness of
+which we are very sensible. We have for comparison a series of
+portraits of the same dates, but of English children, the children of
+the royal and court families. I give here a part of the portrait group
+of the family of the Duke of Buckingham; namely, the Duchess of
+Buckingham and her two children, an infant son and a daughter, Mary.
+She was a wonderful child, known in the court as “Pretty Moll,” having
+the beauty of her father, the “handsomest-bodied” man in court, his
+vivacity, his vigor, and his love of dancing, all of which made him the
+prime favorite both of James and his son, Charles.
+
+A letter exists written by the duchess to her husband while he was gone
+to Spain with his thirty suits of richly embroidered garments of which
+I have written in my first chapter. The duchess writes of “Pretty
+Moll,” who was not a year old:—
+
+
+“She is very well, I thank God; and when she is set to her feet and
+held by her sleeves she will not go softly but stamp, and set one foot
+before another very fast, and I think she will run before she can go.
+She loves dancing extremely; and when the Saraband is played, she will
+get her thumb and finger together offering to snap; and then when “Tom
+Duff” is sung, she will shake her apron; and when she hears the tune of
+the clapping dance my Lady Frances Herbert taught the Prince, she will
+clap both her hands together, and on her breast, and she can tell the
+tunes as well as any of us can; and as they change tunes she will
+change her dancing. I would you were here but to see her, for you would
+take much delight in her now she is so full of pretty play and tricks.
+Everybody says she grows each day more like you.”
+
+
+Can you not see the engaging little creature, clapping her hands and
+trying to step out in a dance? No imaginary description could equal in
+charm this bit of real life, this word-picture painted in bright and
+living colors by a mother’s love. I give another merry picture of her
+childhood and widowhood in a later chapter. Many portraits of “Pretty
+Moll” were painted by Van Dyck, more than of any woman in England save
+the queen. One shows her in the few months that she was the child-wife
+of the eldest son of the Earl of Pembroke. She is in the centre of the
+great family group. She was married thrice; her favorite choice of
+character in which to be painted was Saint Agnes, who died rather than
+be married at all.
+
+
+Infant’s Cap. Infant’s Cap.
+
+Both mother and child in this picture wear a lace cap of unusual shape,
+rather broader where turned over at the ear than at the top. It is seen
+on a few other portraits of that date, and seems to have come to
+England with the queen of James I. It disappeared before the graceful
+modes of hair-dressing introduced by Queen Henrietta Maria.
+
+The genius of Van Dyck has preserved for us a wonderful portraiture of
+children of this period, the children of King Charles I. The earliest
+group shows the king and queen with two children; one a baby in arms
+with long clothes and close cap—this might have been painted yesterday.
+The little prince standing at his father’s knee is in a dark green
+frock, much like John Quincy’s, and apparently no richer. A painting at
+Windsor shows king and queen with the two princes, Charles and James;
+another, also at Windsor, gives the mother with the two sons. One at
+Turin gives the two princes with their sister. At Windsor, and in
+_replica_ at Berlin, is the famous masterpiece with the five children,
+dated 1637.
+
+
+Eleanor Foster. 1755. Eleanor Foster. 1755.
+
+This exquisite group shows Charles, the Prince of Wales (aged seven),
+with his arm on the head of a great dog; he is in the full garb of a
+grown man, a Cavalier. His suit is red satin; the shoes are white, with
+red roses. Mary, demure as in all her portraits, is aged six; she wears
+virago-sleeves made like those of Margaret Gibbes, with hanging sleeves
+over them, a lace stomacher, and cap, with tufts of scarlet, and hair
+curled lightly on the forehead, and pulled out at the side in ringlets,
+like that of her mother, Henrietta Maria. The Duke of York, aged two,
+wears a red dress spotted with yellow, with sleeves precisely like
+those of Robert Gibbes; white lace-edged apron, stomacher, and cap; his
+hair is in curls. The Princess Elizabeth was aged about two; she is in
+blue. Her cap is of wrought and tucked lawn, and she wears either a
+pearl ear-ring or a pearl pendant at the corner of the cap just at the
+ear, and a string of pearls around her neck. She has a gentle, serious
+face, one with a premonitory tinge of sadness. She was the favorite
+daughter of the king, and wrote the inexpressibly touching account of
+his last days in prison. She was but thirteen, and he said to her the
+day before his execution, “Sweetheart, you will forget all this.” “Not
+while I live,” she answered, with many tears, and promised to write it
+down. She lived but a short time, for she was broken-hearted; she was
+found dead, with her head lying on the religious book she had been
+reading—in which attitude she is carved on her tomb. The baby is
+Princess Anne, a fat little thing not a year old; she is naked, save
+for a close cap and a little drapery. She died when three and a half
+years old; died with these words on her lips, “Lighten Thou mine eyes,
+O Lord, that I sleep not the sleep of Death.” It was not Puritan
+children only at that time who were filled with deep religious thought,
+and gave expression to that thought even in infancy; children of the
+Church of England and of the Roman Catholic Church were all widely
+imbued with religious feeling, and Biblical words were the familiar
+speech of the day, of both young and old. It rouses in me strange
+emotions when I gaze at this portrait and remember all that came into
+the lives of these royal children. They had been happier had they been
+born, like the little Gibbes children, in America, and of untitled
+parents.
+
+
+[Illustration: William, Prince of Orange.]
+
+At Amsterdam may be seen the portrait of Princess Mary painted with her
+cousin, William of Orange, who became her child-husband. She had the
+happiest life of any of the five—if she ever could be happy after her
+father’s tragic death. In this later portrait she is a little older and
+sadder and stiffer. Her waist is more pinched, her shoulders narrower,
+her face more demure. His likeness is here given. The only marked
+difference in the dress of these children from the dress of the Gibbes
+children is in the lace; the royal family wear laces with deeply
+pointed edges, the point known as a Vandyke. The American children wear
+straight-edged laces, as was the general manner of laces of that day.
+An old print of the Duke of York when about seven years old is given
+(here). He carries in his hand a quaint racket.
+
+The costume worn by these children is like that of plebeian English
+children of the same date. A manuscript drawing of a child of the
+people in the reign of Charles I shows a precisely similar dress, save
+that the child is in leading-strings held by the mother; and in the
+belt to which the leading-strings are attached is thrust a “muckinder”
+or handkerchief.
+
+These leading-strings are seldom used now, but they were for centuries
+a factor in a child’s progress. They were a favorite gift to children;
+and might be a simple flat strip of strong stuff, or might be richly
+worked like the leading-strings which Mary, Queen of Scots embroidered
+for her little baby, James. These are three bands of Spanish pink satin
+ribbon, each about four or five feet long and over an inch wide. The
+three are sewed with minute over-and-over stitches into a flat band
+about four inches wide, and are embroidered with initials, emblems of
+the crown, a verse of a psalm, and a charming flower and grape design.
+The gold has tarnished into brown, and the flower colors are fled; but
+it is still a beautiful piece of work, speaking with no uncertain voice
+of a tender, loving mother and a womanly queen. There were
+crewel-worked leading-strings in America. One is prettily lined with
+strips of handsome brocade that had been the mother’s wedding
+petticoat; it is not an ill rival of the princely leading-strings.
+
+Another little English girl, who was not a princess, but who lived in
+the years when ran and played our little American children, was Miss
+Campion, who “minded her horn-book”—minded it so well that she has been
+duly honored as the only English child ever painted with horn-book in
+hand. Her petticoat and stomacher, her apron, and cap and hanging
+sleeves and square-toed shoes are just like Margaret Gibbes’s—bought in
+the same London shops, very likely.
+
+Not only did all these little English and American children dress
+alike, but so did French children, and so did Spanish children—only
+little Spanish girls had to wear hoops. Hoops were invented in Spain;
+and proud was the Spanish queen of them.
+
+Velasquez, contemporary with Van Dyck, painted the Infanta Maria
+Theresa; the portrait is now in the Prado at Madrid. She carries a
+handkerchief as big as a tablecloth; but above her enormous hoop
+appears not only the familiar virago-sleeve, but the straight whisk or
+collar, just like that of English children and dames. This child and
+the Princess Marguerite, by Velasquez, have the hair parted on one side
+with the top lock turned aside and tied with a knot of ribbon precisely
+as we tie our little daughters’ hair to-day; and as the bride of
+Charles II wore her hair when he married her. French children had not
+assumed hoops. I have an old French portrait before me of a little
+demoiselle, aged five, in a scarlet cloth gown with edgings of a narrow
+gray gimp or silver lace. All the sleeves, the slashes, the long,
+hanging sleeves are thus edged. She wears a long, narrow, white lawn
+apron, and her stiff bodice has a stomacher of lawn. There is a
+straight white collar tied with tiny bows in front and white cuffs; a
+scarlet close cap edged with silver lace completes an exquisite
+costume, which is in shape like that of Margaret Gibbes. The garments
+of all these children, royal and subject, are too long, of course, for
+comfort in walking; too stiff, likewise, for comfort in wearing; too
+richly laced to be suitable for everyday wear; too costly, save for
+folk of wealth; yet nevertheless so quaint, so becoming, so handsome,
+so rich, that we reluctantly turn away from them.
+
+The dress of all young children in families of estate was cumbersome to
+a degree. There exists to-day a warrant for the purchase of clothing of
+Mary Tudor, sister of Henry VIII, when she was a sportive, wilful,
+naughty little child of four. She wore such unwieldy and ugly guise as
+this: kirtles of tawny damask and black satin; gowns of green and
+crimson striped velvet edged with purple tinsel, which must have been
+hideous. All were lined with heavy black buckram. Indeed, the inner
+portions, the linings of old-time garments, even of royalty, were far
+from elegant. I have seen garments worn by grown princesses of the
+eighteenth century, whereof the rich brocade bodies were lined with
+common, heavy fabric, usually a stiff linen; and the sewing was done
+with thread as coarse as shoe-thread, often homespun. This, too, when
+the sleeve and neck-ruffles would be of needlework so exquisite that it
+could not be rivalled in execution to-day.
+
+Many of the older portraits of children show hanging sleeves. The rich
+claret velvet dresses of the Van Cortlandt twins, aged four, had
+hanging sleeves. This dress is given in my book, _Child Life in
+Colonial Days_, as is that of Katherine Ten Broeck, another child of
+Dutch birth living in New York, who also wore heavy hanging sleeves.
+
+The use of the word hanging sleeves in common speech and in literature
+is most interesting. It had a figurative meaning; it symbolized youth
+and innocence. This meaning was acquired, of course, from the wear for
+centuries of hanging sleeves by little children, both boys and girls.
+It had a second, a derivative signification, being constantly employed
+as a figure of speech to indicate second childhood; it was used with a
+wistful tender meaning as an emblem of the helplessness of feeble old
+age. The following example shows such an employment of the term.
+
+In 1720, Judge Samuel Sewall, of Boston, then about seventy-five years
+of age, wrote to another old gentleman, whose widowed sister he desired
+to marry, in these words:—
+
+
+“I remember when I was going from school at Newbury to have sometime
+met your sisters Martha and Mary in Hanging Sleeves, coming home from
+their school in Chandlers Lane, and have had the pleasure of speaking
+to them. And I could find it in my heart now to speak to Mrs. Martha
+again, now I myself am reduced to Hanging Sleeves.”
+
+
+William Byrd, of Westover, in Virginia, in one of his engaging and
+sprightly letters written in 1732, pictures the time of the patriarchs
+when “a man was reckoned at Years of Discretion at 100; Boys went into
+Breeches at about 40; Girles continued in Hanging Sleeves till 50, and
+plaid with their Babys till Threescore.”
+
+When Benjamin Franklin was seven years old, he wrote a poem which was
+sent to his uncle, a bright old Quaker. This uncle responded in clever
+lines which begin thus:—
+
+
+“’Tis time for me to throw aside my pen
+When Hanging-Sleeves read, write and rhyme like men.
+This forward Spring foretells a plenteous crop
+For if the bud bear grain, what will the top?”
+
+
+A curious use of the long hanging sleeve was as a pocket; that is, it
+would seem curious to us were it not for our acquaintance with the
+capacity of the sleeves of our unwelcome friend, Ah Sing. The pocketing
+sleeve of the time of Henry III still exists in the heraldic charge
+known as the manche, borne by the Hastings and Norton family. This is
+also called maunch, émanche, and mancheron. The word “manchette,” an
+ornamented cuff, retains the meaning of the word, as does manacle; all
+are from _manus_.
+
+Hanging sleeves had a time of short popularity for grown folk while
+Anne Boleyn was queen of England; for the little finger of her left
+hand had a double tip, and the long, graceful sleeves effectually
+concealed the deformity.
+
+In my book entitled _Child Life in Colonial Days_ I have given over
+thirty portraits of American children. These show the changes of
+fashions, the wear of children at various periods and ages. Childish
+dress ever reflected the dress of their elders, and often closely
+imitated it. Two very charming costumes are worn by two little children
+of the province of South Carolina. The little girl is but two years
+old. She is Ellinor Cordes, and was painted about 1740. She is a lovely
+little child of French features and French daintiness of dress, albeit
+a bright yellow brocaded satin would seem rather gorgeous attire for a
+girl of her years. The boy is her kinsman, Daniel Ravenel, and was then
+about five years old. He wore what might be termed a frock with
+spreading petticoats, which touched the ground; there is a decided
+boyishness in the tight-fitting, trim waistcoat with its silver buttons
+and lace, and the befrogged coat with broad cuffs and wrist ruffles,
+and turned-over revers, and narrow linen inner collar. It is an
+exceptionally pleasing boy’s dress, for a little boy.
+
+A somewhat similar but more feminine coat is worn by Thomas Aston
+Coffin; it opens in front over a white satin petticoat, and it has a
+low-cut neck and sleeves shortened to the elbow, and worn over full
+white undersleeves. Other portraits by Copley show the same dress of
+white satin, which boys wore till six years of age.
+
+
+Mrs. Theodore Sedgwick and Daughter. Mrs. Theodore Sedgwick and
+Daughter.
+
+Copley’s portrait of his own children is given on a later page. This
+family group always startles all who have seen it only in photographs;
+for its colors are so unexpected, so frankly crude and vivid. The
+individuals are all charming. The oldest child, the daughter,
+Elizabeth, stands in the foreground in a delightful white frock of
+striped gauze. This is worn over a pink slip, and the pink tints show
+in the thinner folds of whiteness; a fine piece of texture-painting.
+The gauze sash is tied in a vast knot, and lies out in a train; this is
+a more vivid pink, inclining to the tint of the old-rose damask
+furniture-covering. She wears a pretty little net and muslin cap with a
+cap-pin like a tiny rose. This single figure is not excelled, I think,
+by any child’s portrait in foreign galleries, nor is it often equalled.
+Nor can the exquisite expression of childish love and confidence seen
+on the face of the boy, John Singleton Copley, Junior, who later became
+Lord Lyndhurst, find a rival in painting. It is an unspeakably touching
+portrait to all who have seen upturned close to their own eyes the
+trusting and loving face of a beautiful son as he clung with strong
+boyish arms and affection to his mother’s neck.
+
+
+Infant Child of Francis Hopkinson Infant Child of Francis Hopkinson,
+“the Signer.” Painted by Francis Hopkinson.
+
+This little American boy, who became Lord Chancellor of England, wears
+a nankeen suit with a lilac-tinted sash. It is his beaver hat with gold
+hatband and blue feather that lies on the ground at the feet of the
+grandfather, Richard Clarke. The baby, held by the grandfather, wears a
+coral and bells on a lilac sash-ribbon; such a coral as we see in many
+portraits of infants. Another child in white-embroidered robe and dark
+yellow sash completes this beautiful family picture. Its great fault to
+me is the blue of Mrs. Copley’s gown, which is as vivid as a peacock’s
+breast. This painting is deemed Copley’s masterpiece; but an equal
+interest is that it is such an absolute and open expression of Copley’s
+lovable character and upright life. In it we can read his affectionate
+nature, his love of his sweet wife, his happy home-relations, and his
+pride in his beautiful children.
+
+There is ample proof, not only in the inventories which chance to be
+preserved, but in portraits of the times, that children’s dress in the
+eighteenth century was often costly. Of course the children of wealthy
+parents only would have their portraits painted; but their dress was as
+rich as the dress of the children of the nobility in England at the
+same time. You can see this in the colored reproduction of the
+portraits of Hon. James Bowdoin and his sister, Augusta, afterwards
+Lady Temple. That they were good likenesses is proved by the fact that
+the faces are strongly like those of the same persons in more mature
+years. You find little Augusta changed but slightly in matronhood in
+the fine pastel by Copley. In this portrait of the two Bowdoin
+children, the entire dress is given. Seldom are the shoes shown. These
+are interesting, for the boy’s square-toed black shoes with buckles are
+wholly unlike his sister’s blue morocco slippers with turned-up peaks
+and gilt ornaments from toe to instep, making a foot-gear much like
+certain Turkish slippers seen to-day. Her hair has the bedizenment of
+beads and feathers, which were worn by young girls for as many years as
+their mothers wore the same. The young lad’s dress is precisely like
+his father’s. There is much charm in these straight little figures.
+They have the aristocratic bearing which is a family trait of all of
+that kin. I should not deem Lady Temple ever a beauty, though she was
+called so by Manasseh Cutler, a minister who completely yielded to her
+charms when she was a grandmother and forty-four. This portrait of
+brother and sister is, I believe, by Blackburn. The dress is similar
+and the date the same as the portrait of the Misses Royall (one of whom
+became Lady Pepperell), which is by Blackburn.
+
+
+Mary Seton, 1763. Mary Seton, 1763.
+
+The portrait of a charming little American child is shown here. This
+child, in feature, figure, and attitude, and even in the companionship
+of the kitten, is a curious replica of a famous English portrait of
+“Miss Trimmer.”
+
+I have written at length in Chapter IV of a grandmother in the Hall
+family and of the Hall family connection. Let me tell of another
+grandmother, Madam Lydia Coleman, the daughter of the old Indian
+fighter, Captain Joshua Scottow. She, like Madam Symonds and Madam
+Stoddard, had had several husbands—Colonel Benjamin Gibbs,
+Attorney-General Anthony Checkley, and William Coleman. The Hall
+children were her grandchildren; and came to Boston for schooling at
+one time. Many letters exist of Hon. Hugh Hall to and from his
+grandmother, Madam Coleman. She writes thus.—
+
+
+“As for Richard since I told him I would write to his Father he is more
+orderly, &; he is very hungry, and has grown so much yt all his Clothes
+is too Little for him. He loves his book and his play too. I hired him
+to get a Chapter of ye Proverbs &; give him a penny every Sabbath day,
+&; promised him 5 shillings when he can say them all by heart. I would
+do my duty by his soul as well as his body.... He has grown a good boy
+and minds his School and Lattin and Dancing. He is a brisk Child &;
+grows very Cute and wont wear his new silk coat yt was made for him. He
+wont wear it every day so yt I don’t know what to do with it. It wont
+make him a jackitt. I would have him a good husbander but he is but a
+child. For shoes, gloves, hankers &; stockins, they ask very deare, 8
+shillings for a paire &; Richard takes no care of them. Richard wears
+out nigh 12 paire of shoes a year. He brought 12 hankers with him and
+they have all been lost long ago; and I have bought him 3 or 4 more at
+a time. His way is to tie knottys at one end &; beat ye Boys with them
+and then to lose them &; he cares not a bit what I will say to him.”
+
+
+Madam Coleman, after this handful, was given charge of his sister
+Sarah. When Missy arrived from the Barbadoes, she was eight years old.
+She brought with her a maid. The grandmother wrote back cheerfully to
+the parents that the child was well and brisk, as indeed she was. All
+the very young gentlemen and young ladies of Boston Brahmin blood paid
+her visits, and she gave a feast at a child’s dancing-party with the
+sweetmeats left over from her sea-store. Her stay in her grandmother’s
+household was surprisingly brief. She left unbidden with her maid, and
+went to a Mr. Binning’s to board; she sent home word to the Barbadoes
+that her grandmother made her drink water with her meals. Her brother
+wrote to Madam Coleman:—
+
+
+“We were all persuaded of your tender and hearty affection to my Sister
+when we recommended her to your parental care. We are sorry to hear of
+her Independence in removing from under the Benign Influences of your
+Wing &; am surprised she dare do it without our leave or consent or
+that Mr. Binning receive her at his house before he knew how we were
+affected to it. We shall now desire Mr. Binning to resign her with her
+waiting maid to you and in our Letter to him have strictly ordered her
+to Return to your House.”
+
+
+But no brother could control this spirited young damsel. Three months
+later a letter from Madam Coleman read thus:—
+
+
+“Sally wont go to school nor to church and wants a nue muff and a great
+many other things she don’t need. I tell her fine things are cheaper in
+Barbadoes. She is well and brisk, says her Brother has nothing to do
+with her as long as her father is alive.”
+
+
+Hugh Hall wrote in return, saying his daughter ought to have one room
+to sleep in, and her maid another, that it was not befitting children
+of their station to drink water, they should have wine and beer. We
+cannot wonder that they dressed like their elders since they were
+treated like their elders in other respects.
+
+The dress of very young girls was often extraordinarily rich. We find
+this order sent to London in 1739, for finery for Mary Cabell, daughter
+of Dr. William Cabell of Virginia, when she was but thirteen years
+old:—
+
+
+“1 Prayer Book (almost every such inventory had this item).
+1 Red Silk Petticoat.
+1 Very good broad Silver laced hat and hat-band.
+1 Pair Stays 17 inches round the waist.
+2 Pair fine Shoes.
+12 Pair fine Stockings.
+1 Hoop Petticoat.
+1 Pair Ear rings.
+1 Pair Clasps.
+3 Pair Silver Buttons set with Stones.
+1 Suit of Headclothes.
+4 Fine Handkerchiefs and Ruffles suitable.
+A Very handsome Knot and Girdle.
+A Fine Cloak and Short Apron.”
+
+
+
+
+The Bowdoin Children. The Bowdoin Children. Lady Temple and Governor
+James Bowdoin in Childhood.
+
+I never read such a list as this without picturing the delight of
+little Mary Cabell when she opened the box containing all these pretty
+garments.
+
+The order given by Colonel John Lewis for his young ward of eleven
+years old—another Virginia child—reads thus:—
+
+
+“A cap, ruffle, and tucker, the lace 5s. per yard.
+1 pair White Stays.
+8 pair White kid gloves.
+2 pair Colour’d kid gloves.
+2 pair worsted hose.
+3 pair thread hose.
+1 pair silk shoes laced.
+1 pair morocco shoes.
+4 pair plain Spanish shoes.
+2 pair calf shoes.
+1 Mask.
+1 Fan.
+1 Necklace.
+1 Girdle and Buckle.
+1 Piece fashionable Calico.
+4 yards Ribbon for Knots.
+1 Hoop Coat.
+1 Hat.
+1 1/2 Yard of Cambric.
+A Mantua and Coat of Slite Lustring.”
+
+
+Orders for purchases were regularly despatched to London agent by
+George Washington after his marriage. In 1761 he orders a full list of
+garments for both his stepchildren. “Miss Custis” was only six years
+old. These are some of the items:—
+
+
+“1 Coat made of Fashionable Silk.
+A Fashionable Cap or fillet with Bib apron.
+Ruffles and Tuckers, to be laced.
+4 Fashionable Dresses made of Long Lawn.
+2 Fine Cambrick Frocks.
+A Satin Capuchin, hat, and neckatees.
+A Persian Quilted Coat.
+1 p. Pack Thread Stays.
+4 p. Callimanco Shoes.
+6 p. Leather Shoes.
+2 p. Satin Shoes with flat ties.
+6 p. Fine Cotton Stockings.
+4 p. White Worsted Stockings.
+12 p. Mitts.
+6 p. White Kid Gloves.
+1 p. Silver Shoe Buckles.
+1 p. Neat Sleeve Buttons.
+6 Handsome Egrettes Different Sorts.
+6 Yards Ribbon for Egrettes.
+12 Yards Coarse Green Callimanco.”
+
+
+A Virginia gentleman, Colonel William Fleming, kept for several years a
+close account of the money he spent for his little daughters, who were
+young misses of ten and eleven in the year 1787. The most expensive
+single items are bonnets, each at £;4 10s.; an umbrella, £;2 8s. Cloth
+cloaks and saddles and bridles for riding were costly items. Tamboured
+muslin was at that time 18s. a yard; durant, 3s. 6d.; lutestring, 12s.;
+calico, 6s. 3d. Scarlet cloaks for each girl cost £;2 14s. each. Other
+dress materials besides those named above were cambric, linen, cotton,
+osnaburgs, negro cotton, book-muslin, ermin, nankeen, persian, Turkey
+cotton, shalloon, and swanskin. There were many yards of taste and
+ribbon, black lace, and edgings, and gauze—gauze—gauze. A curious item
+several times appearing is a “paper bonnet,” not bonnet-paper, which
+latter was a constant purchase on women’s lists. There were pen-knives,
+“scanes of silk,” crooked combs, morocco shoes, “nitting pins,”
+constant “sticks of pomatum,” fans, “chanes,” a shawl, a tamboured
+coat, gloves, stockings, trunks, bands and clasps, tooth-brushes, silk
+gloves, necklaces, “fingered gloves,” silk stockings, handkerchiefs,
+china teacups and saucers and silver spoons. All these show a very
+generous outfit.
+
+In the year 1770 a delightful, engaging little child came to Boston
+from Nova Scotia to live for a time with her aunt, a Boston
+gentlewoman, and to attend Boston schools. For the amusement of her
+parents so far away, and for practice in penmanship, she kept during
+the years 1771 and part of 1772 a diary. She was but ten years old when
+she began, but her intelligence and originality make this diary a
+valuable record of domestic life in Boston at that date. I have had the
+pleasure of publishing her diary with notes under the title, _Diary of
+Anna Green Winslow, a Boston School Girl, in the Year 1771_. I lived so
+much with her while transcribing her words that she seems almost like a
+child of my own. Like other unusual children she died young—when but
+nineteen. She was not so gifted and wonderful and rare a creature as
+that star among children, Marjorie Fleming, yet she was in many ways
+equally interesting; she was a frank, homely little flower of New
+England life destined never to grow old or weary, or tired or sad, but
+to live forever in eternal, happy childhood, through the magic living
+words in the hundred pages of her time-stained diary.
+
+She was of what Dr. Holmes called Boston Brahmin blood, was related to
+many of the wealthiest and best families of Boston and vicinity, and
+knew the best society. Dress was to her a matter of distinct
+importance, and her clothes were carefully fashionable. Her distress
+over wearing “an old red Domino” was genuine. We have in her words many
+references to her garments, and we find her dress very handsome. This
+is what she wore at a child’s party:—
+
+
+“I was dressed in my yellow coat, black bib &; apron, black feathers on
+my head, my past comb &; all my past garnet, marquesett &; jet pins,
+together with my silver plume—my loket, rings, black collar round my
+neck, black mitts &; yards of blue ribbin (black &; blue is high tast),
+striped tucker &; ruffels (not my best) &; my silk shoes completed my
+dress.”
+
+
+A few days later she writes:—
+
+
+“I wore my black bib &; apron, my pompedore shoes, the cap my Aunt
+Storer since presented me with (blue ribbins on it) &; a very handsome
+locket in the shape of a hart she gave me, the past Pin my Hon’d Papa
+presented me with in my cap. My new cloak &; bonnet, my pompedore
+gloves, &;c. And I would tell you that _for the first time they all on
+lik’d my dress very much_. My cloak &; bonnett are really very handsome
+&; so they had need be. For they cost an amasing sight of money, not
+quite £;45, tho’ Aunt Suky said that she suppos’d Aunt Deming would be
+frighted out of her Wits at the money it cost. I have got _one_
+covering by the cost that is genteel &; I like it much myself.”
+
+
+As this was in the times of depreciated values, £;45 was not so large a
+sum to expend for a girl’s outdoor garments as at first sight appears.
+
+She gives a very exact account of her successions of head-gear, some
+being borrowed finery. She apparently managed to rise entirely above
+the hated “black hatt” and red domino, which she patronizingly said
+would be “Decent for Common Occations.” She writes:—
+
+
+“Last Thursday I purchased with my aunt Deming’s leave a very beautiful
+white feather hat, that is the outside, which is a bit of white
+hollowed with the feathers sew’d on in a most curious manner; white and
+unsully’d as the falling snow. As I am, as we say, a Daughter of
+Liberty I chuse to were as much of our own manufactory as pocible....
+My Aunt says if I behave myself very well indeed, not else, she will
+give me a garland of flowers to orniment it, tho’ she has layd aside
+the biziness of flower-making.”
+
+
+The dress described and portrayed of these children all seems very
+mature; but children were quickly grown up in colonial days. Cotton
+Mather wrote, “New English youth are very sharp and early ripe in their
+capacities.” They married early; though none of the “child-marriages”
+of England disfigure the pages of our history. Sturdy Endicott would
+not permit the marriage of his ward, Rebecca Cooper, an
+“inheritrice,”—though Governor Winthrop wished her for his
+nephew,—because the girl was but fifteen. I am surprised at this, for
+marriages at fifteen were common enough. My far-away grandmother, Mary
+Burnet, married William Browne, when she was fourteen; another
+grandmother, Mary Philips, married her cousin at thirteen, and there is
+every evidence that the match was arranged with little heed of the
+girl’s wishes. It was the happiest of marriages. Boys became men by law
+when sixteen. Winthrop named his son as executor of his will when the
+boy was fourteen—but there were few boys like that boy. We find that
+the Virginia tutor who taught in the Carter family just previous to the
+war of the Revolution deemed a young lady of thirteen no longer a
+child.
+
+
+Miss Lydia Robinson, aged 12 Years Miss Lydia Robinson, aged 12 Years,
+Daughter of Colonel James Robinson. Marked “Corné pinxt, Sept. 1805.”
+
+
+“Miss Betsy Lee is about thirteen, a tall, slim, genteel girl. She is
+very far from Miss Hale’s taciturnity, yet is by no means disagreeably
+Forward. She dances extremely well, and is just beginning to play the
+Spinet. She is dressed in a neat Shell Callico Gown, has very light
+Hair done up with a Feather, and her whole carriage is Inoffensive,
+Easy and Graceful.”
+
+
+The christening of an infant was not only a sacrament of the church,
+and thus of highest importance, but it was also of secular note. It was
+a time of great rejoicing, of good wishes, of gift-making. In mediaeval
+times, the child was arrayed by the priest in a white robe which had
+been anointed with sacred oil, and called a chrismale, or a chrisom. If
+the child died within a month, it was buried in this robe and called a
+chrisom-child. The robe was also called a christening palm or pall.
+When the custom of redressing the child in a robe at the altar had
+passed away, the christening palm still was used and was thrown over
+the child when it was brought out to receive visitors. This robe was
+also termed a bearing-cloth, a christening sheet, and a cade-cloth.
+
+This fine coverlet of state, what we would now call a christening
+blanket, was usually made of silk; often it was richly embroidered,
+sometimes with a text of Scripture. It was generally lace-bordered, or
+edged with a narrow, home-woven silk fringe. The christening-blanket of
+Governor Bradford of the Plymouth Colony still is owned by a
+descendant; it is whole of fabric and unfaded of dye. It is rich
+crimson silk, soft of texture, like heavy sarcenet silk, and is
+powdered at regular distances about six inches apart with conventional
+sprays of flowers, embroidered chiefly in pink and yellow, in minute
+silk cross-stitch. Another beautiful silk christening blanket was
+quilted in an intricate flower pattern in almost imperceptible
+stitches. Another of yellow satin has a design in white floss that
+gives it the appearance of being trimmed with white silk lace. Best of
+all was to embroider the cloth with designs and initials and emblems
+and biblical references. A coat-of-arms or crest was very elegant. The
+words, “God Bless the Babe,” were not left wholly to the pincushions
+which every babe had given him or her, but appeared on the christening
+blanket. A curious design shown me was called _The Tree of Knowledge_.
+The figure of a child in cap, apron, bib, and hanging sleeves stands
+pointing to a tree upon which grew books as though they were apples.
+The open pages of each book-apple is printed with a title, as, _The New
+England Primer, Lilly’s Grammar, Janeway’s Holy Children, The Prodigal
+Daughter._
+
+An inventory of the christening garments of a child in the seventeenth
+century reads thus:—
+
+
+“1. A lined white figured satin cap.
+2. A lined white satin cap embroidered in sprays with gold coloured
+silk.
+3. A white satin palm embroidered in sprays of yellow silk to match.
+This is 44 inches by 34 inches in size.
+4. A palm of rich ‘still yellow’ silk lined with white satin. This is
+54 inches by 48 inches in size.
+5. A pair of deep cuffs of white satin, lace trimmed and embroidered.
+6. A pair of linen mittens trimmed with narrow lace, the back of the
+fingers outlined with yellow silk figures.”
+
+
+
+
+Knitted Flaxen Mittens. Knitted Flaxen Mittens.
+
+The satin cuffs were for the wear of the older person who carried the
+child. The infant was placed upon the larger palm or cloth, and the
+smaller one thrown over him, over his petticoats. The inner cap was
+very tight to the head. The outer was embroidered; often it turned back
+in a band.
+
+There was a significance in the use of yellow; it is the altar color
+for certain church festivals, and was proper for the pledging of the
+child.
+
+All these formalities of christening in the Church of England were not
+abandoned by the Separatists. New England children were just as
+carefully christened and dressed for christening as any child in the
+Church of England. In the reign of James I tiny shirts with little
+bands or sleeves or cuffs wrought in silk or in coventry-blue thread
+were added to the gift of spoons from the sponsors. I have one of these
+little coventry-blue embroidered things with quaint little sleeves; too
+faded, I regret, to reveal any pattern to the camera.
+
+The christening shirts and mittens given by the sponsors are said to be
+a relic of the ancient custom of presenting white clothes to the
+neophytes when converted to Christianity. These “Christening Sets” are
+preserved in many families.
+
+Of the dress of infants of colonial times we can judge from the
+articles of clothing which have been preserved till this day. These are
+of course the better garments worn by babies, not their everyday dress;
+their simpler attire has not survived, but their christening robes,
+their finer shirts and petticoats and caps remain.
+
+
+Mrs. Elizabeth Lux Russell and Daughter. Mrs. Elizabeth Lux Russell and
+Daughter.
+
+Linen formed the chilling substructure of their dress, thin linen,
+low-necked, short-sleeved shirts; and linen remained the underwear of
+infants until thirty years ago. I do not wonder that these little linen
+shirts were worn for centuries. They are infinitely daintier than the
+finest silk or woollen underwear that have succeeded them; they are
+edged with narrowest thread lace, and hemstitched with tiny rows of
+stitches or corded with tiny cords, and sometimes embroidered by hand
+in minute designs. They were worn by all babies from the time of James
+I, never varying one stitch in shape; but I fear this pretty garment of
+which our infants were bereft a few years ago will never crowd out the
+warm, present-day silk wear. This wholly infantile article of childish
+dress had tiny little revers or collarettes or laps made to turn over
+outside the robe or slip like a minute bib, and these laps were
+beautifully oversewn where the corners joined the shirt, to prevent
+tearing down at this seam. These tiny shirts were the dearest little
+garments ever made or dreamed of. When a baby had on a fresh, corded
+slip, low of neck, with short, puffed sleeve, and the tiny hemstitched
+laps were turned down outside the neck of the slip, and the little
+sleeves were caught up by fine strings of gold-clasped pink coral, the
+baby’s dimpled shoulders and round head rose up out of the little
+shirt-laps like some darling flower.
+
+I have seen an infant’s shirt and a cap embroidered on the laps with
+the coat-of-arms of the Lux and Johnson families and the motto, “God
+Bless the Babe;” these delicate garments, the work of fairies, were
+worn in infancy by the Revolutionary soldier, Governor Johnson of
+Virginia.
+
+In the Essex Institute in Salem, Massachusetts, are the baptismal shirt
+and mittens of the Pilgrim father, William Bradford, second governor of
+the Plymouth colony, who was born in 1590. They are shown here. All are
+of firm, close-woven, homespun linen, but the little mittens have been
+worn at the ends by the active friction of baby hands, and are patched
+with red and yellow figured “chiney” or calico. A similar colored
+material frills the sleeves and neck. This may have been part of their
+ornamentation when first made, but it looks extraneous.
+
+The sleeves of this shirt are plaited or goffered in a way that seems
+wholly lost; this is what I have already described—_pinching_. I have
+seen the sleeve of a child’s dress thus pinched which had been worn by
+a little girl aged three. The wrist-cuff measured about five inches
+around, and was stoutly corded. Upon ripping the sleeve apart, it was
+found that the strip of fine mull which was thus pinched into the
+sleeve was two yards in length. The cuff flared slightly, else even
+this length of sheer lawn could not have been confined at the wrist. In
+the so-called “Museum,” gloomily scattered around the famous old South
+Church edifice in Boston, are fine examples of this pinched work.
+
+
+Christening Shirt and Mitts of Governor Bradford. Christening Shirt and
+Mitts of Governor Bradford.
+
+Many of the finest existing specimens of old guipure, Flanders, and
+needlepoint laces in England and America are preserved on the ancient
+shirts, mitts, caps, and bearing-cloths of infants. Often there is a
+little padded bib of guipure lace accompanied with tiny mittens like
+these.
+
+
+Flanders Lace Mitts. Flanders Lace Mitts.
+
+This pair was wrought and worn in the sixteenth century, and the
+stitches and work are those of the Flanders point laces. I have seen
+tiny mitts knitted of silk, of fine linen thread, also made of linen,
+hem-stitched, or worked in drawn-work, or embroidered, and one pair of
+mittens, and the cap that matched was of tatting-work done in the
+finest of thread. No needlepoint could be more beautiful. Some are
+shown on here.
+
+Mitts of yellow nankeen or silk, made with long wrists or arms, were
+also worn by babies, and must have proved specially irritating to tiny
+little hands and arms. These had the seams sewed over and over with
+colored silks in a curiously intricate netted stitch.
+
+I have an infant’s cap with two squares of lace set in the crown, one
+over each ear. The lace is of a curious design; a conventionalized vase
+or urn on a standard. I recognize it as the lace and pattern known as
+“pot-lace,” made for centuries at Antwerp, and worn there by old women
+on their caps with a devotion to a single pattern that is unparalleled.
+It was the “flower-pot” symbol of the Annunciation. The earliest
+representation of the Angel Gabriel in the Annunciation showed him with
+lilies in his hand; then these lilies were set in a vase. In years the
+angel has disappeared and then the lilies, and the lily-pot only
+remains. It is a whimsical fancy that this symbol of Romanism should
+have been carefully transferred to adorn the pate of a child of the
+Puritans. The place of the medallion, set over each ear, is so unusual
+that I think it must have had some significance. I wonder whether they
+were ever set thus in caps of heavy silk or linen to let the child hear
+more readily, as he certainly would through the thin lace net.
+
+The word “beguine” meant a nun; and thus derivatively a nun’s close
+cap. This was altered in spelling to biggin, and for a time a nun’s
+plain linen cap was thus called. By Shakespere’s day biggin had become
+wholly a term for a child’s cap. It was a plain phrase and a plain cap
+of linen. Shakespere calls them “homely biggens.”
+
+I have seen it stated that the biggin was a night-cap. When Queen
+Elizabeth lost her mother, Anne Boleyn, she was but three years old, a
+neglected little creature. A lady of the court wrote that the child had
+“no manner of linen, nor for-smocks, nor kerchiefs, nor rails, nor
+body-stitches, nor handkerchiefs, nor sleeves, nor mufflers, nor
+biggins.”
+
+In 1636 Mary Dudley, the daughter of Governor John Winthrop, had a
+little baby. She did not live in Boston town, therefore her mother had
+to purchase supplies for her; and many letters crossed, telling of
+wants, and their relief. “Holland for biggins” was eagerly sought. At
+that date all babies wore caps. I mean English and French, Dutch and
+Spanish, all mothers deemed it unwise and almost improper for a young
+baby ever to be seen bare-headed. With the imperfect heating and many
+draughts in all the houses, this mode of dress may have been wholly
+wise and indeed necessary. Every child’s head was covered, as the
+pictures of children in this book show, until he or she was several
+years old. The finest needlework and lace stitches were lavished on
+these tiny infants’ caps, which were not, when thus adorned and
+ornamented, called biggins.
+
+
+Infant’s Adjustable Cap. Infant’s Adjustable Cap.
+
+A favorite trimming for night-caps and infants’ caps is a sort of
+quilting in a leaf and vine pattern, done with a white cord inserted
+between outer and inner pieces of linen—a cord stuffing, as it were. It
+does not seem oversuited for caps to be worn in bed or by little
+infants, as the stiff cords must prove a disagreeable cushion. This
+work was done as early as the seventeenth century; but nearly all the
+pieces preserved were made in the early years of the nineteenth century
+in the revival of needlework then so universal.
+
+Often a velvet cap was worn outside the biggin or lace cap.
+
+I have never seen a woollen petticoat that was worn by an infant of
+pre-Revolutionary days. I think infants had no woollen petticoats;
+their shirts, petticoats, and gowns were of linen or some cotton stuff
+like dimity. Warmth of clothing was given by tiny shawls pinned round
+the shoulders, and heavier blankets and quilts and shawls in which baby
+and petticoats were wholly enveloped.
+
+The baby dresses of olden times are either rather shapeless sacques
+drawn in at the neck with narrow cotton ferret or linen bobbin, or
+little straight-waisted gowns of state. All were exquisitely made by
+hand, and usually of fine stuff. Many are trimmed with fine cording.
+
+It is astounding to note the infinite number of stitches put in
+garments. An infant’s slips quilted with a single tiny backstitch in a
+regular design of interlaced squares, stars, and rounds. By counting
+the number of rounds and the stitches in each, and so on, it has been
+found that there are 397,000 stitches in that dress. Think of the time
+spent even by the quickest sewer over such a piece of work.
+
+Within a few years we have shortened the long clothes worn by youngest
+infants; twenty-five years ago the handsome dress of an infant, such as
+the christening-robe, was so long that when the child was held on the
+arm of its standing nurse or mother, the edge of the robe barely
+escaped touching the ground. Two hundred years ago, a baby’s dress was
+much shorter. In the family group of Charles I and Henrietta Maria and
+their children, in the Copley family picture, and in the picture of the
+Cadwalader family, we find the little baby in scarce “three-quarters
+length” of robe. With this exception it is astonishing to find how
+little infants’ dress has changed during the two centuries. In 1889, at
+the Stuart Exhibition, some of the infant dresses of Charles I were
+shown. They had been preserved in the family of Sir Thomas Coventry,
+Lord Keeper. And Charles II’s baby linen was on view in the New Gallery
+in 1901. Both sets had the dainty little shirts, slips, bibs, mitts,
+and all the babies’ dress of fifty years ago, and the changes since
+then have been few. The “barrow-coat,” a square of flannel wrapped
+around an infant’s body below the arms with the part below the feet
+turned up and pinned, was part of the old swaddling-clothes; and within
+ten years it has been largely abandoned for a flannel petticoat on a
+band or waist. The bands, or binders, have always been the same as
+to-day, and the bibs. The lace cuffs and lace mittens were left off
+before the caps. The shirt is the most important change.
+
+Nowadays a little infant wears long clothes till three, four, or even
+eight months old; then he is put in short dresses about as long as he
+is. In colonial days when a boy was taken from his swaddling-clothes,
+he was dressed in a short frock with petticoats and was “coated” or
+sometimes “short-coated.” When he left off coats, he donned breeches.
+In families of sentiment and affection, the “coating” of a boy was made
+a little festival. So was also the assumption of breeches an important
+event—as it really is, as we all know who have boys.
+
+One of the most charming of all grandmothers’ letters was written by a
+doting English grandmother to her son. Lord Chief Justice North,
+telling of the “leaving off of coats” of his motherless little son,
+Francis Guilford, then six years old. The letter is dated October 10,
+1679:—
+
+
+“DEAR SON:
+You cannot beleeve the great concerne that was in the whole family here
+last Wednesday, it being the day that the taylor was to helpe to dress
+little ffrank in his breeches in order to the making an everyday suit
+by it. Never had any bride that was to be drest upon her weding night
+more handes about her, some the legs, some the armes, the taylor
+butt’ning, and others putting on the sword, and so many lookers on that
+had I not a ffinger amongst I could not have seen him. When he was
+quite drest he acted his part as well as any of them for he desired he
+might goe downe to inquire for the little gentleman that was there the
+day before in a black coat, and speak to the man to tell the gentleman
+when he came from school that there was a gallant with very fine
+clothes and a sword to have waited upon him and would come again upon
+Sunday next. But this was not all, there was great contrivings while he
+was dressing who should have the first salute; but he sayd if old Joan
+had been here, she should, but he gave it to me to quiett them all.
+They were very fitt, everything, and he looks taller and prettyer than
+in his coats. Little Charles rejoyced as much as he did for he jumpt
+all the while about him and took notice of everything. I went to Bury,
+and bot everything for another suitt which will be finisht on Saturday
+so the coats are to be quite left off on Sunday. I consider it is not
+yett terme time and since you could not have the pleasure of the first
+sight, I resolved you should have a full relation from
+
+    “Yo’r most Aff’nate Mother
+
+    “A. North.
+
+“When he was drest he asked Buckle whether muffs were out of fashion
+because they had not sent him one.”
+
+
+This affectionate letter, written to a great and busy statesman, the
+Lord Keeper of the Seals, shows how pure and delightful domestic life
+in England could be; it shows how beautiful it was after Puritanism
+perfected the English home.
+
+In an old family letter dated 1780 I find this sentence:—
+
+
+“Mary is most wise with her child, and hath no new-fangledness. She has
+little David in what she wore herself, a pudding and pinner.”
+
+
+For a time these words “pudding and pinner” were a puzzle; and long
+after pinner was defined we could not even guess at a pudding. But now
+I know two uses of the word “pudding” which are in no dictionary. One
+is the stuffing of a man’s great neck-cloth in front, under the chin.
+The other is a thick roll or cushion stuffed with wool or some soft
+filling and furnished with strings. This pudding was tied round the
+head of a little child while it was learning to walk. The head was thus
+protected from serious bruises or injury. Nollekens noted with
+satisfaction such a pudding on the head of an infant, and said: “That
+is right. I always wore a pudding, and all children should.” I saw one
+upon a child’s head last summer in a New England town; I asked the
+mother what it was, and she answered, “A pudding-cap”; that it made
+children soft (idiotic) to bump the head frequently.
+
+The word “pinner” has two meanings. The earlier use was precisely that
+of pinafore, or pincurtle, or pincloth—a child’s apron. Thus we read in
+the Harvard College records, of the expenses of the year 1677, of
+“Linnen Cloth for Table Pinners,” which makes us suspect that Harvard
+students of that day had to wear bibs at commons.
+
+All children wore aprons, which might be called pinners; these were
+aprons with pinned-up bibs; or they might be tiers, which were sleeved
+aprons covering the whole waist, sleeves, and skirt, an outer slip,
+buttoned in the back.
+
+A severe and ancient moralist looked forth from her window in
+Worcester, one day last spring, at a band of New England children
+running to their morning school. She gazed over her glasses
+reprovingly, and turned to me with bitterness: “There they go! _Such_
+mothers as they must have! Not a pinner nor a sleeved tier among ’em.”
+
+The sleeved tier occupied a singular place in childish opinion in my
+youth; and I find the same feeling anent it had existed for many
+generations. It was hated by all children, regarded as something to be
+escaped from at the earliest possible date. You had to wear sleeved
+tiers as you had to have the mumps. It was a thing to endure with what
+childish patience and fortitude you could command for a short time; but
+thoughtful, tender parents would not make you suffer it long.
+
+There were aprons, and aprons. Pinners and tiers were for use, but
+there were elegant aprons for ornament. Did not Queen Anne wear one?
+Even babies wore them. The little Padishal child has one richly laced.
+I have seen a beautiful apron for a little child of three. It was edged
+with a straight insertion of Venetian point like that pictured here. It
+had been made in 1690. Tender affection for a beloved and beautiful
+little child preserved it in one trunk in the same attic for sixty-five
+years; and a beautiful sympathy for that mother’s long sorrow kept the
+apron untouched by young lace-lovers. This lace has white horsehair
+woven into the edge.
+
+We find George Washington ordering for his little stepdaughter (a
+well-dressed child if ever there was one), when she was six years old,
+“A fashionable cap or fillet with bib apron.” And a few years later he
+orders, “Tuckers, Bibs, and Aprons if Fashionable.” Boys wore aprons as
+long as they wore coats; aprons with stomachers or bibs of drawn-work
+and lace, or of stiffly starched lawn; aprons just like those of their
+sisters. It was hard to bear. Hoop-coat, masks, packthread stays—these
+seem strange dress for growing girls.
+
+George Washington sent abroad for masks for his wife and his little
+stepdaughter, “Miss Custis,” when the little girl was six years old;
+and “children’s masks” are often named in bills of sale. Loo-masks were
+small half-masks, and were also imported in all sizes.
+
+The face of Mrs. Madison, familiarly known as “Dolly Madison,” wife of
+President James Madison, long retained the beauty of youth. Much of
+this was surely due to a faithful mother, who, when little Dolly Payne
+was sent to school, sewed a sun-bonnet on the child’s head every
+morning, placed on her arms and hands long gloves, and made her wear a
+mask to keep every ray of sunlight from her face. When masks were so
+universally worn by women, it is not strange, after all, that children
+wore them.
+
+
+Rev. J.P. Dabney when a Child. Rev. J.P. Dabney when a Child.
+
+I read with horror an advertisement of John McQueen, a New York
+stay-maker in 1767, that he has children’s packthread stays, children’s
+bone stays, and “neat polished steel collars for young Misses so much
+worn at the boarding schools in London.” Poor little “young Misses”!
+
+There were also “turned stays, jumps, gazzets, costrells and caushets”
+(which were perhaps corsets) to make children appear straight.
+Costrells and gazzets we know not to-day. Jumps were feeble stays.
+
+
+“Now a shape in neat stays
+Now a slattern in jumps.”
+
+
+
+
+Robert Gibbes. Robert Gibbes.
+
+Jumps were allied to jimps, and perhaps to jupe; and I think jumper is
+a cousin of a word. One pair of stays I have seen is labelled as having
+been made for a boy of five. One of the worst instruments of torture I
+ever beheld was a pair of child’s stays worn in 1760. They were made,
+not of little strips of wood, but of a large piece of board, front and
+back, tightly sewed into a buckram jacket and reënforced across at
+right angles and diagonally over the hips (though really there were no
+hip-places) with bars of whalebone and steel. The tin corsets I have
+heard of would not have been half as ill to wear. It is true, too, that
+needles were placed in the front of the stays, that the stay-wearer who
+“poked her head” would be well pricked. The daughter of General
+Nathanael Greene, the Revolutionary patriot, told her grandchildren
+that she sat many hours every day in her girlhood, with her feet in
+stocks and strapped to a backboard. A friend has a chair of ordinary
+size, save that the seat is about four inches wide from the front edge
+of seat to the back. And the back is well worn at certain points where
+a heavy leather strap strapped up the young girl who was tortured in it
+for six years of her life. The result of back board, stocks, steel
+collar, wooden stays, is shown in such figures as have Dorothy Q. and
+her sister Elizabeth. Elizabeth Storer, on page 98 of my _Child Life in
+Colonial Days_, is an extreme example, straight-backed indeed, but
+narrow-chested to match.
+
+Dr. Holmes wrote in jest, but he wrote in truth, too:—
+
+
+“They braced My Aunt against a board
+      To make her straight and tall,
+ They laced her up, they starved her down,
+      To make her light and small.
+ They pinched her feet, they singed her hair,
+      They screwed it up with pins,
+ Oh, never mortal suffered more
+      In penance for her sins.”
+
+
+
+
+Nankeen Breeches with Silver Buttons. Nankeen Breeches with Silver
+Buttons.
+
+Nankeen was the favorite wear for boys, even before the Revolution. The
+little figure of the boy who became Lord Lyndhurst, shown in the Copley
+family portrait, is dressed in nankeen; he is the engaging, loving
+child looking up in his mother’s face. Nankeen was worn summer and
+winter by men, and women, and children. If it were deemed too thin and
+too damp a wear for delicate children in extreme winters, then a yellow
+color in wool was preferred for children’s dress. I have seen a little
+pair of breeches of yellow flannel made precisely like these nankeen
+breeches on this page. They were worn in 1768. Carlyle in his _Sartor
+Resartus_ gives this account of the childhood of the professor and
+philosopher of his book:—
+
+
+“My first short clothes were of yellow serge; or rather, I should say,
+my first short cloth; for the vesture was one and indivisible, reaching
+from neck to ankle; a single body with four limbs; of which fashion how
+little could I then divine the architectural, much less the moral
+significance.”
+
+
+
+
+Ralph Izard when a Little Boy. 1750. Ralph Izard when a Little Boy.
+1750.
+
+It is a curious coincidence that a great philosopher of our own world
+wore a precisely similar dress in his youth. Madam Mary Bradford writes
+in a private letter, at the age of one hundred and three, of her life
+in 1805 in the household of Rev. Joseph Emerson. Ralph Waldo Emerson
+was then a little child of two years, and he and his brother William
+till several years old were dressed wholly in yellow flannel, by night
+and by day. When they put on trousers, which was at about the age of
+seven, they wore complete home-made suits of nankeen. The picture
+amuses me of the philosophical child, Ralph Waldo, walking soberly
+around in ugly yellow flannel, contentedly sucking his thumb; for Mrs.
+Bradford records that he was the hardest child to break of sucking his
+thumb whom she ever had seen during her long life. I cannot help
+wondering whether in their soul-to-soul talks Emerson ever told Carlyle
+of the yellow woollen dress of his childhood, and thus gave him the
+thought of the child’s dress for his philosopher.
+
+Fortunately for the children who were our grandparents. French fashions
+were not absorbingly the rage in America until after some amelioration
+of dress had come to French children. Mercier wrote at length at the
+close of the eighteenth century of the abominable artificiality and
+restraint in dress of French children; their great wigs, full-skirted
+coats, immense ruffles, swords on thigh, and hat in hand. He contrasts
+them disparagingly with English boys. The English boy was certainly
+more robust, but I find no difference in dress. Wigs, swords, ruffles,
+may be seen at that time both in English and American portraits. But an
+amelioration of dress did come to both English and American boys
+through the introduction of pantaloons, and a change to little girls’
+dress through the invention of pantalets, but the changes came first to
+France, in spite of Mercier’s animadversions. These changes will be
+left until the later pages of this book; for during nearly all the two
+hundred years of which I write children’s dress varied little. It
+followed the changes of the parent’s dress, and adopted some modes to a
+degree but never to an extreme.
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+PERUKES AND PERIWIGS
+
+
+_“As to a Periwigg, my best and Greatest Friend begun to find me with
+Hair before I was Born, and has continued to do so ever since, and I
+could not find it in my Heart to go to another.”
+_
+—“Diary,” JUDGE SAMUEL SEWALL, 1718.
+
+
+_A phrensy or a periwigmanee
+That over-runs his pericranie._
+
+—JOHN BYRON, 1730 (circa).
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+PERUKES AND PERIWIGS
+
+
+T
+
+
+o-day, when every man, save a football player or some eccentric
+reformer or religious fanatic, displays in youth a close-cropped head,
+and when even hoary age is seldom graced with flowing, silvery locks,
+when women’s hair is dressed in simplicity, we can scarcely realize the
+important and formal part the hair played in the dress of the
+eighteenth century.
+
+In the great eagerness shown from earliest colonial days to acquire and
+reproduce in the New World every change of mode in the Old, to purchase
+rich dress, and to assume novel dress, no article was sought for more
+speedily and more anxiously than the wig. It has proved an interesting
+study to compare the introduction of wigs in England with the wear of
+the same form of head-gear in America. Wigs were not in general use in
+England when Plymouth and Boston were settled; though in Elizabeth’s
+day a “peryuke” had been bought for the court fool. They were not in
+universal wear till the close of the seventeenth century.
+
+The “Wig Mania” arose in France in the reign of Louis XV. In 1656 the
+king had forty court perruquiers, who were termed and deemed artists,
+and had their academy. The wigs they produced were superb. It is told
+that one cost £;200, a sum equal in purchasing power to-day to $5000.
+The French statesman and financier, Colbert, aghast at the vast sums
+spent for foreign hair, endeavored to introduce a sort of cap to
+supplant the wig, but fashions are not made that way.
+
+
+Governor and Reverend Gurdon Saltonstall. Governor and Reverend Gurdon
+Saltonstall.
+
+For information of English manners and customs in that day, I turn (and
+never in vain) to those fascinating volumes, the _Verney Memoirs_. From
+them I learn this of early wig-wearing by Englishmen; that Sir Ralph
+Verney, though in straitened circumstances during his enforced
+residence abroad, felt himself compelled to follow the French mode,
+which at that period, 1646, had not reached England. That exemplary
+gentleman paid twelve livres for a wig, when he was sadly short of
+money for household necessaries. It was an elaborate wig, curled in
+great rings, with two locks tied with black ribbon, and made without
+any parting at the back. This wig was powdered.
+
+Sir Ralph wrote to his wife that a good hair-powder was very difficult
+to get and costly, even in France. It was an appreciable addition to
+the weight of the wig and to the expense, large quantities being used,
+sometimes as much as two pounds at a time. It added not only to the
+expense, but to the discomfort, inconvenience, and untidiness of
+wig-wearing.
+
+Pomatum made of fat, and that sometimes rancid, was used to make the
+powder stick; and noxious substances were introduced into the powder,
+as a certain kind is mentioned which must not be used alone, for it
+would produce headache.
+
+Charles II was the earliest king represented on the Great Seal wearing
+a large periwig. Dr. Doran assures us that the king did not bring the
+fashion to Whitehall. “He forbade,” we are told, “the members of the
+Universities to wear periwigs, smoke tobacco, or read their sermons.
+The members did all three, and Charles soon found himself doing the
+first two.”
+
+
+Mayor Rip Van Dam. Mayor Rip Van Dam.
+
+Pepys’s _Diary_ contains much interesting information concerning the
+wigs of this reign. On 2d of November, 1663, he writes: “I heard the
+Duke say that he was going to wear a periwig, and says the King also
+will, never till this day observed that the King is mighty gray.” It
+was doubtless this change in the color of his Majesty’s hair that
+induced him to assume the head-dress he had previously so strongly
+condemned.
+
+The wig he adopted was very voluminous, richly curled, and black. He
+was very dark. “Odds fish! but I’m an ugly black fellow!” he said of
+himself when he looked at his portrait. Loyal colonists quickly
+followed royal example and complexion. We have very good specimens of
+this curly black wig in many American portraits.
+
+As might be expected, and as befitted one who delighted to be in
+fashion, Pepys adopted this wig. He took time to consider the matter,
+and had consultations with Mr. Jervas, his old barber, about the
+affair. Referring to one of his visits to his hairdresser, Pepys says:—
+
+
+“I did try two or three borders and periwigs, meaning to wear one, and
+yet I have no stomach for it; but that the pains of keeping my hair
+clean is great. He trimmed me, and at last I parted, but my mind was
+almost altered from my first purpose, from the trouble which I foresee
+in wearing them also.”
+
+
+Weeks passed before he could make up his mind to wear a wig. Mrs. Pepys
+was taken to the periwig-maker’s shop to see one, and expressed her
+satisfaction with it. We read in April, 1665, of the wig being back at
+Jervas’s under repair. Later, under date of September 3d, he writes:—
+
+
+“Lord’s day. Up; and put on my coloured silk suit, very fine, and my
+new periwig, bought a good while since, but durst not wear, because the
+plague was in Westminster when I bought it; and it is a wonder what
+will be in fashion, after the plague is done, as to periwigs, for
+nobody will dare to buy any hair, for fear of the infection, that it
+had been cut off the heads of people dead of the plague.”
+
+
+In 1670, only, five years after this entry of Pepys, we find Governor
+Barefoot of New Hampshire wearing a periwig; and in 1675 the court of
+Massachusetts, in view of the distresses of the Indian wars, denounced
+the “manifest pride openly appearing amongst us in that long hair, like
+women’s hair is worn by some men, either their own hair, or others’
+hair made into periwigs.”
+
+
+Abraham De Peyster. Abraham De Peyster.
+
+In 1676 Wait Winthrop sent a wig (price £;3) to his brother in New
+London. Mr. Sergeant had brought it from England for his own use; but
+was willing to sell it to oblige a friend, who was, I am confident,
+very devoted to wig-wearing. The largest wig that I recall upon any
+colonist’s head is in the portrait of Governor Fitz-John Winthrop. He
+is painted in armor; and a great wig never seems so absurd as when worn
+with armor. Horace Walpole said, “Perukes of outrageous length flowing
+over suits of armour compose wonderful habits.” An edge of Winthrop’s
+own dark hair seems to show under the wig front. I do not know the
+precise date of this portrait. It was, of course, painted in England.
+He served in the Parliamentary army with General Monck; returned to New
+England in 1663, and was commander of the New England forces. He spent
+1693 to l697 in England as commissioner. Sir Peter Lely and Sir Godfrey
+Kneller both were painting in England in those years, and both were
+constant in painting men with armor and perukes. This portrait seems
+like Kneller’s work.
+
+
+Governor De Bienville. Governor De Bienville.
+
+Another portrait attired also in armor and peruke is of Sir Nathaniel
+Johnson, who was appointed governor of South Carolina by the Lords
+Proprietors in 1702. The portrait was painted in 1705. It is one of the
+few of that date which show a faint mustache; he likewise wears a seal
+ring with coat-of-arms on the little finger of his left hand, which was
+unusual at that day. De Bienville, the governor of Louisiana, is
+likewise in wig and armor. In 1682 Thomas Richbell died in Boston,
+leaving a very rich and costly wardrobe. He had eight wigs. Of these,
+three were small periwigs worth but a pound apiece. In New York, in
+Virginia, in all the colonies, these wigs were worn, and were just as
+large and costly, as elaborately curled, as heavily powdered, as at the
+English and French courts.
+
+Archbishop Tillotson is usually regarded as the first amongst the
+English clergy to adopt the wig. He said in one of his sermons:—
+
+
+“I can remember since the wearing of hair below the ears was looked
+upon as a sin of the first magnitude, and when ministers generally,
+whatever their text was, did either find or make occasion to reprove
+the great sin of long hair; and if they saw any one in the congregation
+guilty in that kind, they would point him out particularly, and let fly
+at him with great zeal.”
+
+
+Dr. Tillotson died on November 24, 1694.
+
+
+Daniel Waldo. Daniel Waldo.
+
+Long before that American preachers had felt it necessary to “let fly”
+also; to denounce wig-wearing from their pulpits. The question could
+not be settled, since the ministers themselves could not agree. John
+Wilson, the zealous Boston minister, wore one, and John Cotton (see
+here); while Rev. Mr. Noyes preached long and often against the
+fashion. John Eliot, the noble preacher and missionary to the Indians,
+found time even in the midst of his arduous and incessant duties to
+deliver many a blast against “prolix locks,”—“with boiling zeal,” as
+Cotton Mather said,—and he labelled them a “luxurious feminine
+protexity”; but lamented late in life that “the lust for wigs is become
+insuperable.” He thought the horrors in King Philip’s War were a direct
+punishment from God for wig-wearing. Increase Mather preached warmly
+against wigs, calling them “Horrid Bushes of Vanity,” and saying that
+“such Apparel is contrary to the light of Nature, and to express
+Scripture,” and that “Monstrous Periwigs such as some of our church
+members indulge in make them resemble ye locusts that came out of ye
+Bottomless Pit.”
+
+Rev. George Weeks preached a sermon on impropriety in clothes. He said
+in regard to wig-wearing:—
+
+
+“We have no warrant in the word of God, that I know of, for our wearing
+of Periwigs except it be in extraordinary cases. Elisha did not cover
+his head with a Perriwigg altho’ it was bald. To see the greater part
+of Men in some congregations wearing Perriwiggs is a matter of deep
+lamentation. For either all these men had a necessity to cut off their
+Hair or else not. If they had a necessity to cut off their Hair then we
+have reason to take up a lamentation over the sin of our first Parents
+which hath occasioned so many Persons in our Congregation to be sickly,
+weakly, crazy Persons.”
+
+
+Long “Ruffianly” or “Russianly” (I know not which word is right) hair
+equally worried the parsons. President Chauncey of Harvard College
+preached upon it, for the college undergraduates were vexingly addicted
+to prolix locks. Rev. Mr. Wigglesworth’s sermon on the subject has
+often been reprinted, and is full of logical arguments. This offence
+was named on the list of existing evils which was made by the general
+court: that “the men wore long hair like women’s hair.” Still, the
+Puritan magistrates, omnipotent as they were in small things, did riot
+dare to force the becurled citizens of the little towns to cut their
+long love-locks, though they bribed them to do so. A Salem man was, in
+1687, fined l0s. for a misdemeanor, but “in case he shall cutt off his
+long har of his head into a sevill (civil?) frame, in the mean time
+shall have abated 5s. of his fine.” John Eliot hated long, natural hair
+as well as false hair. Rev. Cotton Mather said of him, in a very
+unpleasant figure of speech, “The hair of them that professed religion
+grew too long for him to swallow.” His own hair curled on his
+shoulders, and would seem long to us to-day.
+
+
+Reverend John Marsh. Reverend John Marsh.
+
+A climax of wig-hating was reached by one who has been styled “The Last
+of the Puritans”—Judge Samuel Sewall of Boston. Constant references in
+his diary show how this hatred influenced his daily life. He despised
+wigs so long and so deeply, he thought and talked and prayed upon them,
+until they became to him of undue importance; they became godless
+emblems of iniquity; an unutterable snare and peril.
+
+We find Sewall copying with evident approval a “scandalous bill” which
+had been “posted” on the church in Plymouth in 1701. In this a few
+lines ran:—
+
+
+ “Our churches are too genteel.
+Parsons grow trim and trigg
+With wealth, wine, and wigg,
+   And their crowns are covered with meal.”
+
+
+
+
+John Adams in Youth. John Adams in Youth.
+
+Bitter must have been his efforts to reconcile to his conscience the
+sight of wigs upon the heads of his parson friends, worn boldly in the
+pulpit. He would refrain from attending a church where the parson wore
+a wig; and his italicized praise of a dead friend was that he “was a
+true New-English man and _abominated periwigs_.” A Boston wig-maker
+died a drunkard, and Sewall took much melancholy satisfaction in
+dilating upon it.
+
+Cotton Mather and Sewall had many pious differences and personal
+jealousies. The parson was a handsome man (see his picture here), and
+he was a harmlessly and naively vain man. He quickly adopted a “great
+bush of vanity”—and a very personable appearance he makes in it. Soon
+we find him inveighing at length in the pulpit against “those who
+strain at a gnat and swallow a camel, those who were zealous against an
+innocent fashion taken up and used by the best of men.” “’Tis supposed
+he means wearing a Perriwigg,” writes Sewall after this sermon; “I
+expected not to hear a vindication of Perriwiggs in Boston pulpit by
+Mr. Mather.”
+
+Poor Sewall! his regard of wigs had a severe test when he wooed Madam
+Winthrop late in life. She was a rich widow. He had courted her vainly
+for a second wife. And now he “yearned for her deeply” for a third
+wife, so he wrote. And ere she would consent or even discuss marriage
+she stipulated two things: one, that he keep a coach; the other, that
+he wear a periwig. When all the men of dignity and office in the colony
+were bourgeoning out in great flowing perukes, she was naturally a bit
+averse to an elderly lover in a skullcap or, as he often wore, a hood.
+His love did not make him waver; he stoutly persisted in his refusal to
+assume a periwig.
+
+His portrait in a velvet skullcap shows a fringe of white curling hair
+with a few forehead locks. I fancy he was bald. Here is his entry with
+regard to young Parson Willard’s wig, in the year 1701:—
+
+
+“Having last night heard that Josiah Willard had cut off his hair (a
+very full head of hair) and put on a wig, I went to him this morning.
+When I told his mother what I came about, she called him. Whereupon I
+inquired of him what extreme need had forced him to put off his own
+hair and put on a wig? He answered, none at all; he said that his hair
+was straight, and that it parted behind.
+
+“He seemed to argue that men might as well shave their hair off their
+head, as off their face. I answered that boys grew to be men before
+they had hair on their faces, and that half of mankind never have any
+beards. I told him that God seems to have created our hair as a test,
+to see whether we can bring our minds to be content at what he gives
+us, or whether wewould be our own carvers and come back to him for
+nothing more. We might dislike our skin or nails, as he disliked his
+hair; but in our case no thanks are due to us that we cut them not off;
+for pain and danger restrain us. Your duty, said I, is to teach men
+self-denial. I told him, further, that it would be displeasing and
+burdensome to good men for him to wear a wig, and they that care not
+what men think of them, care not what God thinks of them.
+
+“I told him that he must remember that wigs were condemned by a meeting
+of ministers at Northampton. I told him of the solemnity of the
+covenant which he and I had lately entered into, which put upon me the
+duty of discoursing to him.
+
+“He seemed to say that he would leave off his wig when his hair was
+grown again. I spoke to his father of it a day or two afterwards and he
+thanked me for reasoning with his son.
+
+“He told me his son had promised to leave off his wig when his hair was
+grown to cover his ears. If the father had known of it, he would have
+forbidden him to cut off his hair. His mother heard him talk of it, but
+was afraid to forbid him for fear he should do it in spite of her, and
+so be more faulty than if she had let him go his own way.”
+
+
+
+
+Jonathan Edwards, 2nd. Jonathan Edwards, 2nd.
+
+Soon nearly every parson in England and every colony wore wigs. John
+Wesley alone wore what seems to be his own white hair curled under
+softly at the ends. Whitfield is in a portentous wig like the one on
+Dr. Marsh (here).
+
+In the time of Queen Anne, wigs had multiplied vastly in variety as
+they had increased in size. I have been asked the difference between a
+peruke and a wig. Of course both, and the periwig, are simply wigs; but
+the term “peruke” is in general applied to a formal, richly curled wig;
+and the word “periwig” also conveys the distinction of a formal wig. Of
+less dignity were riding-wigs, nightcap wigs, and bag-wigs. Bag-wigs
+are said to have had their origin among French servants, who tied up
+their hair in a black leather bag as a speedy way of dressing it, and
+to keep it out of the way when at other and disordering duties.
+
+
+Patrick Henry. Patrick Henry.
+
+In May, 1706, the English, led by Marlborough, gained a great victory
+on the battle-field of Ramillies, and that gave the title to a new wig
+described as “having a long, gradually diminishing, plaited tail,
+called the ‘Ramillie-tail,’ which was tied with a great bow at the top
+and a smaller one at the bottom.” The hair also bushed out at both
+sides of the face. The Ramillies wig shown in Hogarth’s _Modern
+Midnight Conversation_ hanging against the wall, is reproduced here.
+This wig was not at first deemed full-dress. Queen Anne was deeply
+offended because Lord Bolingbroke, summoned hurriedly to her, appeared
+in a Ramillies wig instead of a full-bottomed peruke. The queen
+remarked that she supposed next time Lord Bolingbroke would come in his
+nightcap. It was the same offending nobleman who brought in the fashion
+of the mean little tie-wigs.
+
+It is stated in Read’s _Weekly Journal_ of May 1, 1736, in an account
+of the marriage of the Prince of Wales, that the officers of the Horse
+and Foot Guards wore Ramillies periwigs when on parade, by his
+Majesty’s order. We meet in the reign of George II other forms of wigs
+and other titles; the most popular was the pigtail wig. The pigtail of
+this was worn hanging down the back or tied up in a knot behind. This
+pigtail wig, worn for so many years, is shown here. It was popular in
+the army for sixty years, but in 1804 orders were given for the pigtail
+to be reduced to seven inches in length, and finally, in 1808, to be
+cut off wholly, to the deep mourning of disciplinarians who deemed a
+soldier without a pigtail as hopeless as a Manx cat.
+
+
+“King” Carter. Died 1732. “King” Carter. Died 1732.
+
+Bob-wigs, minor and major, came in during the reign of George II. The
+bob-wig was held to be a direct imitation of the natural hair, though,
+of course, it deceived no one; it was used chiefly by poorer folk. The
+’prentice minor bob was close and short, the citizen’s bob major, or
+Sunday buckle, had several rows of curls. All these came to America by
+the hundreds—yes, by the thousands. Every profession and almost every
+calling had its peculiar wig. The caricatures of the period represent
+full-fledged lawyers with a towering frontlet and a long bag at the
+back tied in the middle; while students of the university have a wig
+flat on the top, to accommodate their stiff, square-cornered hats, and
+a great bag like a lawyer’s wig at the back.
+
+
+Judge Benjamin Lynde. Judge Benjamin Lynde.
+
+“When the law lays down its full-bottom’d periwig you will find less
+wisdom in bald pates than you are aware of,” says the _Choleric Man_.
+This lawyer’s wig is the only one which has not been changed or
+abandoned. You may see it here, on the head of Judge Benjamin Lynde of
+Salem. He died in 1745. Carlyle sneers:—
+
+
+“Has not your Red hanging-individual a horsehair wig, squirrel-skins,
+and a plush-gown—whereby all Mortals know that he is a JUDGE?”
+
+
+In the reigns of Anne and William and Mary perukes grew so vast and
+cumbersome that a wig was invented for travelling and for undress wear,
+and was called the “Campaign wig.” It would not seem very simple since
+it was made full and curled to the front, and had, so writes a
+contemporary, Randle Holme, in his _Academy of Armory_, 1684, “knots
+and bobs a-dildo on each side and a curled forehead.”
+
+A campaign wig from Holme’s drawing is shown here.
+
+There are constant references in old letters and in early literature in
+America which alter much the dates assigned by English authorities on
+costume: thus, knowing not of Randle Holme’s drawing, Sydney writes
+that the name “campaign” was applied to a wig, the name and fashion of
+which came to England from France in 1702. In the Letter-book of
+William Byrd of Westover, Virginia, in a letter written in June, 1690,
+to Perry and Lane, his English factors in London, he says, “I have by
+Tonner sent my long Periwig which I desire you to get made into a
+Campagne and send mee.” This was twelve years earlier than Sydney’s
+date. Fitz-John Winthrop wrote to England in 1695 for “two wiggs one a
+campane the other short.” The portrait of Fitz-John Winthrop shows a
+prodigious imposing wig, but it has no “knots or bobs a-dildo on each
+side,” though the forehead is curled; it is a fine example of a peruke.
+
+I cannot attempt even to name all the wigs, much less can I describe
+them; Hawthorne gave “the tie,” the “Brigadier,” the “Major,” the
+“Ramillies,” the grave “Full-bottom,” the giddy “Feather-top.” To these
+and others already named in this chapter I can add the “Neck-lock,” the
+“Allonge,” the “Lavant,” the “Vallancy,” the “Grecian fly wig,” the
+“Beau-peruke,” the “Long-tail,” the “Fox-tail,” the “Cut-wig,” the
+“Scratch,” the “Twist-wig.”
+
+Others named in 1753 in the _London Magazine_ were the “Royal bird,”
+the “Rhinoceros,” the “Corded Wolf’s-paw,” “Count Saxe’s mode,” the
+“She-dragon,” the “Jansenist,” the “Wild-boar’s-back,” the
+“Snail-back,” the “Spinach-seed.” These titles were literal
+translations of French wig-names.
+
+Another wig-name was the “Gregorian.” We read in _The Honest Ghost_,
+1658, “Pulling a little down his Gregorian, which was displac’t a
+little by his hastie taking off his beaver.” This wig was named from
+the inventor, one Gregory, “the famous peruke-maker who is buryed at
+St. Clements Danes Church.” In Cotgrave’s _Dictionary_ perukes are
+called Gregorians.
+
+
+John Rutledge. John Rutledge.
+
+In the prologue to _Haut Ton_, written by George Colman, these wigs are
+named:—
+
+
+“The Tyburn scratch, thick Club and Temple tyes,
+The Parson’s Feather-top, frizzed, broad and high.
+The coachman’s Cauliflower, built tier on tier.”
+
+
+There was also the “Minister’s bob,” “Curley roys,” “Airy levants,” and
+“I—perukes.” The “Dalmahoy” was a bushy bob-wig.
+
+When Colonel John Carter died, he left to his brother Robert his cane,
+sword, and periwig. I believe this to be the very Valiancy periwig
+which, in all its snowy whiteness and air of extreme fashion, graces
+the head of the handsome young fellow as he is shown here. Even the
+portrait shares the fascination which the man is said to have had for
+every woman. I have a copy of it now standing on my desk, where I can
+glance at him as I write; and pleasant company have I found the gay
+young Virginian—the best of company. It is good to have a companion so
+handsome of feature, so personable of figure, so laughing, care free,
+and debonair—isn’t it, King Robert?
+
+
+Campaign, Ramillies, Bob, and Pigtail Wigs. Campaign, Ramillies, Bob,
+and Pigtail Wigs.
+
+These snowy wigs at a later date were called Adonis wigs.
+
+The cost of a handsome wig would sometimes amount to thirty, forty, and
+fifty guineas, though Swift grumbled at paying three guineas, and the
+exceedingly correct Mr. Pepys bought wigs at two and three pounds. It
+is not strange that they were often stolen. Gay, in his _Trivia_, thus
+tells the manner of their disappearance:—
+
+
+“Nor is the flaxen wig with safety worn;
+ High on the shoulder, in a basket borne,
+ Lurks the sly boy, whose hand to rapine bred,
+ Plucks off the curling honors of the head.”
+
+
+In America wigs were deemed rich spoils for the sneak-thief.
+
+There was a vast trade in second-hand wigs. ’Tis said there was in
+Rosemary Lane in London a constantly replenished “Wig lottery.” It was,
+rather, a wig grab-bag. The wreck of gentility paid his last sixpence
+for appearances, dipped a long arm into a hole in a cask, and fished
+out his wig. It might be half-decent, or it might be fit only to polish
+shoes—worse yet, it might have been used already for that purpose. The
+lowest depths of everything were found in London. I doubt if we had any
+Rosemary Lane wig lotteries in New York, or Philadelphia, or Boston.
+
+
+Rev. William Welsteed. Rev. William Welsteed.
+
+An answer to a query in a modern newspaper gives the word “caxon” as
+descriptive of a dress-wig. It was in truth a term for a wig, but it
+was a cant term, a slang phrase for the worst possible wig; thus
+Charles Lamb Wrote:—
+
+
+“He had two wigs both pedantic but of different omen. The one serene,
+smiling, fresh-powdered, betokening a mild day. The other an old
+discoloured, unkempt, angry caxon denoting frequent and bloody
+execution.”
+
+
+All these wigs, even the bob-wig, were openly artificial. The manner of
+their make, their bindings, their fastening, as well as their material,
+completely destroyed any illusion which could possibly have been
+entertained as to their being a luxuriant crop of natural hair.
+
+No one was ashamed of wearing a wig. On the contrary, a person with any
+sense of dignity was ashamed of being so unfashionable as to wear his
+own hair. It was a glorious time for those to whom Nature had been
+niggardly. A wig was as frankly extraneous as a hat. No attempt was
+made to imitate the roots of the hairs, or the parting. The hair was
+attached openly, and bound with a high-colored, narrow ribbon. Here is
+an advertisement from the _Boston News Letter_ of August 14, 1729:—
+
+
+“Taken from the shop of Powers Mariott, Barber, a light Flaxen Natural
+Wigg parted from the forehead to the Crown. The Narrow Ribband is of a
+Red Pink Color, the Caul is in rows of Red, Green and White Ribband.”
+
+
+Another “peruke-maker” lost a Flaxen “Natural” wig bound with
+peach-colored ribbon; while in 1755 Barber Coes, of Marblehead, lost
+“feather-tops” bound with various ribbons. Some had three colors on one
+wig—pink, green and purple. A goat’s-hair wig bound with red and
+purple, with green ribbons striping the caul, must have been a pretty
+and dignified thing on an old gentleman’s head. One of the most curious
+materials for a wig was fine wire, of which Wortley Montague’s wig was
+made.
+
+
+Thomas Hopkinson. Thomas Hopkinson.
+
+We read in many histories of costume, among them Miss Hill’s recent
+history of English dress, that Quakers did not wear wigs. This is
+widely incorrect. Many Quakers wore most fashionably made wigs. William
+Penn wrote from England to his steward, telling him to allow Deputy
+Governor Lloyd to wear his (Penn’s) wigs. I suppose he wished his
+deputy to cut a good figure.
+
+From the _New York Gazette_ of May 9, 1737, we learn of a thief’s
+stealing “one gray Hair Wig, not the worse for wearing, one Pale Hair
+Wig, not worn five times, marked V. S. E., one brown Natural wig, One
+old wig of goat’s hair put in buckle.” Buckle meant to curl, and
+derivatively a wig was in buckle when it was rolled for curling.
+Roulettes or bilbouquettes for buckling a wig were little rollers of
+pipe clay. The hair was twisted up in them, and papers bound over them
+to fix them in place. The roulettes could be put in buckle hot, or they
+could be rolled cold and the whole wig heated. The latter was not
+favored; it damaged the wig. Moreover, a careless barber had often
+roasted a forgotten wig which he had put in buckle and in an oven.
+
+The _New York Gazette_ of May 12, 1750, had this alluring
+advertisement:—
+
+
+“This is to acquaint the Public, that there is lately arrived from
+London the Wonder of the World, _an Honest_ Barber and Peruke Maker,
+who might have worked for the King, if his Majesty would have employed
+him: It was not for the want of Money he came here, for he had enough
+of that at Home, nor for the want of Business, that he advertises
+himself, BUT to acquaint the Gentlemen and Ladies, that _Such a Person
+is now in Town_, living near _Rosemary Lane_ where Gentlemen and Ladies
+may be supplied with Goods as follows, viz.: Tyes, Full-Bottoms,
+Majors, Spencers, Fox-Tails, Ramalies, Tacks, cut and bob Perukes: Also
+Ladies Tatematongues and Towers after the Manner that is now wore at
+Court. _By their Humble and Obedient Servant_,
+
+“JOHN STILL.”
+
+
+
+
+Reverend Dr. Barnard. Reverend Dr. Barnard.
+
+“Perukes,” says Malcolm, in his _Manners and Customs_, “were an highly
+important article in 1734.” Those of right gray human hair were four
+guineas each; light grizzle ties, three guineas; and other colors in
+proportion, to twenty-five shillings. Right gray human hair cue
+perukes, from two guineas to fifteen shillings each, was the price of
+dark ones; and right gray bob perukes, two guineas and a half to
+fifteen shillings, the price of dark bobs. Those mixed with horsehair
+were much lower.
+
+Prices were a bit higher in America. It was held that better wigs were
+made in England than in America or France; so the letter-books and
+agent’s-lists of American merchants are filled with orders for English
+wigs.
+
+Imperative orders for the earliest and extremest new fashions stood
+from year to year on the lists of fashionable London wig-makers; and
+these constant orders came from Virginia gentlemen and Massachusetts
+magistrates,—not a few, too, from the parsons,—scantly paid as they
+were. The smaller bob-wigs and tie-wigs were precisely the same in both
+countries, and I am sure were no later in assumption in America than
+was necessitated by the weeks occupied in coming across seas.
+
+Throughout the seventeenth century all classes of men in American towns
+wore wigs. Negro slaves flaunted white horsehair wigs, goat’s-hair
+bob-wigs, natural wigs, all the plainer wigs, and all the more costly
+sorts when these were half worn and secondhand. Soldiers wore wigs; and
+in the _Massachusetts Gazette_ of the year 1774 a runaway negro is
+described as wearing a curl of hair tied around his head to imitate a
+scratch wig; with his woolly crown this dangling curl must have been
+the height of absurdity.
+
+It is not surprising to find in the formal life of the English court
+the poor little tormented, sickly, sad child of Queen Anne wearing,
+before he was seven years old, a large full-bottomed wig; but it is
+curious to see the portraits of American children rigged up in wigs (I
+have half a dozen such), and to find likewise an American gentleman
+(and not one of wealth either) paying £;9 apiece for wigs for three
+little sons of seven, nine, and eleven years of age. This lavish parent
+was Enoch Freeman, who lived in Portland, Maine, in 1754.
+
+Wigs were objects of much and constant solicitude and care; their
+dressing was costly, and they wore out readily. Barbers cared for them
+by the month or year, visiting from house to house. Ten pounds a year
+was not a large sum to be paid for the care of a single wig. Men of
+dignity and careful dress had barbers’ bills of large amount, such men
+as Governor John Hancock, Governor Hutchinson, and Governor Belcher. On
+Saturday afternoons the barbers’ boys were seen flying through the
+narrow streets, wig-box in hand, hurrying to deliver all the dressed
+wigs ere sunset came.
+
+No doubt the constant wearing of such hot, heavy head-covering made the
+hair thin and the head bald; thus wigs became a necessity. Men had
+their heads very closely covered of old, and caught cold at a breath.
+Pepys took cold throwing off his hat while at dinner. If the wig were
+removed even within doors a close cap or hood at once took its place,
+or, as I tell elsewhere, a turban of some rich stuff. In America, in
+the Southern states, where people were poor and plantations scattered,
+all men did not wear wigs. A writer in the _London Magazine_ in 1745
+tells of this country carelessness of dress. He says that except some
+of the “very Elevated Sort” few wore perukes; so that at first sight
+“all looked as if about to go to bed,” for all wore caps. Common people
+wore woollen caps; richer ones donned caps of white cotton or Holland
+linen. These were worn even when riding fifty miles from home. He adds,
+“It may be cooler for aught I know; but methinks ’tis very ridiculous.”
+So wonted were his eyes to perukes, that his only thought of caps was
+that they were “ridiculous.” Nevertheless, when a shipload of servants,
+bond-servants who might be stolen when in drink, or lured under false
+pretences, might be convicts, or honest workmen,—when these transports
+were set up in respectability,—scores of new wigs of varying degrees of
+dignity came across seas with them. Many an old caxon or “gossoon”—a
+wig worn yellow with age—ended its days on the pate of a redemptioner,
+who thereby acquired dignity and was more likely to be bought as a
+schoolmaster. Truly our ancestors were not squeamish, and it is well
+they were not, else they would have squeamed from morning till night at
+the sights, and sounds, and things, and dirt around them. But these be
+parlous words; they had the senses and feelings of their day—suited to
+the surroundings of their day. In one thing they can be envied. Knowing
+not of germs and microbes, dreaming not of antiseptics and fumigation,
+they could be happy in blissful unconsciousness of menacing
+environment—a blessing wholly denied to us.
+
+
+Andrew Ellicott. Andrew Ellicott.
+
+When James Murray came from Scotland in 1735 he went up the Cape Fear
+River in North Carolina to the struggling settlements of Brunswick. The
+stock of wigs which he brought as one of the commodities of his trade
+had absolutely no market. In 1751 he wrote thus to his London
+wig-maker:—
+
+
+“We deal so much in caps in this country that we are almost as careless
+of the outside as of the inside of our heads. I have had but one wig
+since the last I had of you, and yours has outworn it. Now I am near
+out, and you may make me a new grisel Bob.”
+
+
+Nevertheless, in 1769, when he was roughly handled in Boston on account
+of his Tory utterances, his head, though he was but fifty-six, was bald
+from wig-wearing. His spirited recital runs thus:—
+
+
+“The crowd intending sport, remained. As I was pressing out, my Wig was
+pulled off and a pate shaved by Time and the barber was left exposed.
+This was thought a signal and prelude to further insult; which would
+probably have taken place but for hindering the cause. Going along in
+this plight, surrounded by the crowd, in the dark, a friend hold of
+either arm supporting me, while somebody behind kept nibbling at my
+sides and endeavouring of treading the reforming justice out of me by
+the multitude. My wig dishevelled, was borne on a staff behind. My
+friends and supporters offered to house me, but I insisted on going
+home in the present trim, and was landed in safety.”
+
+
+Patriotic Boston barbers found much satisfaction in ill treating the
+wigs of their Tory customers and patrons. William Pyncheon, a Salem
+Tory, wrote a few years later:—
+
+
+“The tailors and barbers, in their squinting and fleering at our
+clothes, and especially our wiggs, begin to border on malevolence. Had
+not the caul of my wigg been of uncommon stuff and workmanship, I think
+my barber would have had it in pieces: his dressing it greatly
+resembles the farmer dressing his flax, the latter of the two being the
+gentlest in his motions.”
+
+
+Worcester Tories, among them Timothy Paine, had their wigs pulled off
+in public. Mr. Paine at once gave his dishonored wig to one of his
+negro slaves, and never after resumed wig-wearing.
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE BEARD
+
+
+_“Though yours be sorely lugged and torn
+It does your Visage more adorn
+Than if ’twere prun’d, and starch’d, and launder’d
+And cut square by the Russian standard.”_
+
+—“Hudibras,” SAMUEL BUTLER.
+
+
+_“Now of beards there be such company
+And fashions such a throng
+That it is very hard to handle a beard
+Tho’ it be never so long.
+
+“’Tis a pretty sight and a grave delight
+That adorns both young and old
+A well thatch’t face is a comely grace
+And a shelter from the cold”_
+
+—“Le Prince d’Amour,” 1660.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE BEARD
+
+
+M
+
+
+en’s hair on their heads hath ever been at odds with that on their
+face. If the head were well covered and the hair long, then the face
+was smooth shaven. William the Conqueror had short hair and a beard,
+then came a long-haired king, then a cropped one; Edward IV’s subjects
+had long hair and closely cut beards. Henry VII fiercely forbade
+beards. The great sovereign Henry VIII ordered short hair like the
+French, and wore a beard. Through Elizabeth’s day and that of James the
+beard continued. Not until great perukes overshadowed the whole face
+did the beard disappear. It vanished for a century as if men were
+beardless; but after men began to wear short hair in the early years of
+the nineteenth century, bearded men appeared. A few German mystics who
+had come to America full-bearded were stared at like the elephant, and
+a sight of them was recorded in a diary as a great event.
+
+There is no doubt that, to the general reader, the ordinary thought of
+the Puritan is with a beard, a face and figure much like the Hogarth
+illustrations of Hudibras—one of the “Presbyterian true Blue,” “the
+stubborn crew of Errant Saints,”—without the grotesquery of face and
+feature, perhaps, but certainly with all the plainness and
+gracelessness of dress and the commonplace beard. The wording of
+Hudibras also figures the popular conception:—
+
+
+“His tawny Beard was th’ equal Grace
+Both of his Wisdom and his Face:
+       *       *       *       *       *
+“His Doublet was of sturdy Buff
+And tho’ not Sword, was Cudgel-Proof.
+His Breeches were of rugged Woolen
+And had been at the Siege of Bullen.”
+
+
+
+
+Herbert Westphaling, Bishop of Hereford. Herbert Westphaling, Bishop of
+Hereford.
+
+In truth this is well enough as far as it runs and for one suit of
+clothing; but this was by no means a universal dress, nor was it a
+universal beard. Indeed beards were fearfully and wonderfully varied.
+
+That humorous old rhymester, Taylor, the “Water Poet,” may be quoted at
+length on the vanity thus:—
+
+
+“And Some, to set their Love’s-Desire on Edge
+Are cut and prun’d, like to a Quickset Hedge.
+Some like a Spade, some like a Forke, some square,
+Some round, some mow’d like stubble, some starke bare;
+Some sharpe, Stilletto-fashion, Dagger-like,
+That may with Whispering a Man’s Eyes unpike;
+Some with the Hammer-cut, or Roman T.
+Their Beards extravagant, reform’d must be.
+Some with the Quadrate, some Triangle fashion;
+Some circular, some ovall in translation;
+Some Perpendicular in Longitude,
+Some like a Thicket for their Crassitude,
+That Heights, Depths, Breadths, Triform, Square, Ovall, Round
+And Rules Geometrical in Beards are found.”
+
+
+Taylor’s own beard was screw-shaped. I fancy he invented it.
+
+The Anglo-Saxon beard was parted, and this double form remained for a
+long time. Sometimes there were two twists or two long forks.
+
+A curious pointed beard, a beard in two curls, is shown here, on James
+Douglas, Earl of Morton. A still more strangely kept one, pointed in
+the middle of the chin, and kept in two rolls which roll toward the
+front, is upon the aged herald, here.
+
+Richard II had a mean beard,—two little tufts on the chin known as “the
+mouse-eaten beard, here a tuft, there a tuft.” The round beard “like a
+half a Holland cheese” is always seen in the depictions of Falstaff; “a
+great round beard” we know he had. This was easily trimmed, but others
+took so much time and attention that pasteboard boxes were made to tie
+over them at night, that they might be unrumpled in the morning.
+
+
+The Herald Vandum. The Herald Vandum.
+
+In the reign of Elizabeth and of James I a beard and whiskers or
+mustache were universally worn. In the time of Charles I the general
+effect of beard and mustache was triangular, with the mouth in the
+centre, as in the portrait of Waller here.
+
+A beard of some form was certainly universal in 1620. Often it was the
+orderly natural growth shown on Winthrop’s face; a smaller tuft on the
+chin with a mustache also was much worn. Many ministers in America had
+this chin-tuft. Among them were John Eliot and John Davenport. The
+Stuarts wore a pointed beard, carefully trimmed, and a mustache; but
+the natural beard seems to have disappeared with the ruff. Charles II
+clung for a time to a mustache; his portrait by Mary Beale has one; but
+with the great development of the periwig came a smooth face. This
+continued until the nineteenth century brought a fashion of bearded men
+again; a fashion which was so abhorred, so reviled, so openly warred
+with that I know of the bequest of a large estate with the absolute and
+irrevocable condition that the inheritor should never wear a beard of
+any form.
+
+The hammer cut was of the reign of Charles I. It was T-shaped. In the
+play, _The Queen of Corinth_, 1647, are the lines:—
+
+
+      “He strokes his beard
+Which now he puts in the posture of a T,
+The Roman T. Your T-beard is in fashion.”
+
+
+The spade beard is shown here. It was called the “broad pendant,” and
+was held to make a man look like a warrior. The sugar-loaf beard was
+the natural form much worn by Puritans; by natural I mean not twisted
+into any “strange antic forms.” The swallow-tail cut (about 1600) is
+more unusual, but was occasionally seen.
+
+
+“The stiletto-beard
+It makes me afeard
+     It is so sharp beneath.
+For he that doth place
+A dagger in his face
+     What wears he in his sheath?”
+
+
+An unusually fine stiletto beard is on the chin of John Endicott
+(here). It was distinctly a soldier’s beard. Endicott was major-general
+of the colonial forces and a severe disciplinarian. Shakespere, in
+_Henry V_, speaks of “a beard of the General’s cut.” It was worn by the
+Earl of Southampton (see here), and perhaps Endicott favored it on that
+account. The pique-devant beard or “pick-a-devant beard, O Fine
+Fashion,” was much worn. A good moderate example may be seen upon
+Cousin Kilvert, with doublet and band, in the print here. An extreme
+type was the beard of Robert Greene, the Elizabethan dramatist, “A
+jolly long red peake like the spire of a steeple, which he wore
+continually, whereat a man might hang a jewell; it was so sharp and
+pendent.”
+
+
+Scotch Beard. Scotch Beard.
+
+The word “peak” was constantly used for a beard, and also the words
+“spike” and “spear.” A barber is represented in an old play as asking
+whether his customer will “have his peak cut short and sharp; or
+amiable like an inamorato, or broad pendant like a spade; to be
+terrible like a warrior and a soldado; to have his appendices primed,
+or his mustachios fostered to turn about his eares like ye branches of
+a vine.”
+
+A broad square-cut beard spreading at the ends like an open fan is the
+“cathedral beard” of Randle Holme, “so called because grave men of the
+church did wear it.” It is often seen in portraits. One of these is
+shown here.
+
+
+Dr. William Slater. Cathedral Beard. Dr. William Slater. Cathedral
+Beard.
+
+In the _Life of Mrs. Elizabeth Thomas_, 1731, she writes of her
+grandfather, a Turkey-merchant:—
+
+
+“He was very nice in the Mode of his Age—his Valet being some hours
+every morning in _Starching_ his _Beard_ and Curling his Whiskers
+during which Time a Gentleman whom he maintained as Companion always
+read to him upon some useful subject.”
+
+
+So we may believe they really “starched” their beards, stiffened them
+with some dressing. Taylor, the “Water Poet” (1640), says of beards:—
+
+
+“Some seem as they were starched stiff and fine
+Like to the Bristles of some Angry Swine.”
+
+
+
+
+Dr. John Dee. 1600. Dr. John Dee. 1600.
+
+Dr. Dee’s extraordinary beard I can but regard as an affectation of
+singularity, assumed doubtless to attract attention, and to be a sign
+of unusual parts. Aubrey, his friend, calls him “a very handsome man;
+of very fair, clear, sanguine complexion, with a long beard as white as
+milke. He was tall and slender. He wore a gowne like an artist’s gowne;
+with hanging sleeves and a slitt. A mighty good man he was.” The word
+“artist” then meant artisan; and in this reference means a smock like a
+workman’s.
+
+A name seen often in Winthrop’s letters is that of Sir Kenelm Digby. He
+was an intimate correspondent of John Winthrop the second, and it would
+not be strange if he did many errands for Winthrop in England besides
+purchasing drugs. His portrait, and a lugubrious one it is, is one of
+the few of his day which shows an untrimmed beard. Aubrey says of him
+that after the death of his wife he wore “a long mourning cloak, a high
+cornered hatt, his beard unshorn, look’t like a hermit; as signs of
+sorrow for his beloved wife. He had something of the sweetness of his
+mother’s face.” This sweetness is, however, not to be perceived in his
+unattractive portrait.
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES
+
+
+_“Q. Why is a Wife like a Patten? A. Both are Clogs.”_
+
+—Old Riddle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES
+
+
+W
+
+
+hen this old pigskin trunk was new, the men who fought in the
+Revolution were young. Here is the date, “1756,” and the initials in
+brass-headed nails, “J.E.H.” It was a bride’s trunk, the trunk of
+Elizabeth, who married John; and it was marked after the manner of
+marking the belongings of married folk in her day. It is curious in
+shape, spreading out wide at the top; for it was made to fit a special
+place in an old coach. I have told the story of that ancient coach in
+my _Old Narragansett_: the tale of the ignoble end of its days, the
+account of its fall from transportation of this happy bride and
+bridegroom, through years of stately use and formal dignity to more
+years of happy desuetude as a children’s cubby-house; and finally its
+ignominy as a roosting-place, and hiding-place, and laying-place, and
+setting-place of misinformed and misguided hens. Under the coachman’s
+seat, where the two-score dark-blue Staffordshire pie-plates were found
+on the day of the annihilation of the coach, was the true resting-place
+of this trunk. It was a hidden spot, for the trunk was small, and was
+intended to hold only treasures. It holds them still, though they are
+not the silver-plate, the round watches, the narrow laces, and the
+precious camel’s-hair scarf. It now holds treasured relics of the olden
+time; trifles, but not unconsidered ones; much esteemed trifles are
+they, albeit not in form or shape or manner of being fit to rest in
+parlor cabinets or on tables, but valued, nevertheless, valued for that
+most intangible of qualities—association.
+
+
+Iron and Leather Pattens. 1760. Iron and Leather Pattens. 1760.
+
+
+Oak, Iron, and Leather Clogs. 1790. Oak, Iron, and Leather Clogs. 1790.
+
+Here is one little “antick.” It is an ample bag with the neat double
+drawing-strings of our youth; a bag, nay, a pocket. It once hung by the
+side of some one of my forbears, perhaps Elizabeth of the brass-nailed
+initials. It was a much-esteemed pocket, though it is only of figured
+cotton or chiney; but those stuffs were much sought after when this old
+trunk was new. The pocket has served during recent years as a cover for
+two articles of footwear which many “of the younger sort” to-day have
+never seen—they are pattens. “Clumsy, ugly pattens” we find them
+frequently stigmatized in the severe words of the early years of the
+nineteenth century, but there is nothing ugly or clumsy about this
+pair. The sole is of some black, polished wood—it is heavy enough for
+ebony; the straps are of strong leather neatly stitched; the buckles
+are polished brass, and brass nails fasten the leather to the wooden
+soles. These soles are cut up high in a ridge to fit under the instep
+of a high-heeled shoe; for it was a very little lady who wore these
+pattens,—Elizabeth,—and her little feet always stood in the highest
+heels. She was active, kindly, and bountiful. She lived to great age,
+and she could and did walk many miles a day until the last year of her
+life. She is recalled as wearing a great scarlet cloak with a black
+silk quilted hood on cold winter days, when she visited her neighbors
+with kindly words, and housewifely, homely gifts, conveyed in an ample
+basket. The cloak was made precisely like the scarlet cloak shown here,
+and had a like hood. She was brown-eyed, and her dark hair was never
+gray even in extreme old age; nor was the hair of her granddaughter,
+another Elizabeth, my grandmother. Trim and erect of figure, and
+precise and neat of dress, wearing, on account of this neatness,
+shorter petticoats, when walking, than was the mode of her day, and
+also through this neatness clinging to the very last to these cleanly,
+useful, quaint pattens. Her black hood, frilled white cap, short,
+quilted petticoat, high-heeled shoes, and the shining ebony and brass
+pattens, and over all the great, full scarlet cloak,—all these made her
+an unusual and striking figure against the Wayland landscape, the snowy
+fields and great sombre pine trees of Heard’s Island, as she trod
+trimly, in short pattened steps that crackled the kittly-benders in the
+shadowed roads, or sunk softly in the shallow mud of the sunny lanes on
+a snow-melting day in late winter. Would I could paint the picture as I
+see it!
+
+These pattens in the old trunk are prettier than most pattens which
+have been preserved. In general, they are rather shabby things. I have
+another pair—more commonplace, which chance to exist; they were not
+saved purposely. They are pictured here.
+
+
+English Clogs. English Clogs.
+
+There is a most ungallant old riddle, “Why is a wife like a patten?”
+The answer reads, “Because both are clogs.” A very courteous bishop was
+once asked this uncivil query, and he answered without a moment’s
+hesitation, “Because both elevate the soul (sole).” Pattens may be
+clogs, yet there is a difference. After much consultation of various
+authorities, and much discussion in the columns of various querying
+journals, I make this decision and definition. Pattens are thick,
+wooden soles roughly shaped in the outline of the human foot (in the
+shoemaker’s notion of that member), mounted on a round or oval ring of
+iron, fixed by two or three pins to the sole, in such a way that when
+the patten is worn the sole of the wearer’s foot is about two inches
+above the ground. A heel-piece with buckles and straps, strings or
+buttons and leather loops, and a strap over the toe, retain the patten
+in place upon the foot when the wearer trips along. (See here.) Clogs
+serve the same purpose, but are simply wooden soles tipped and shod
+with iron. These also have heel-pieces and straps of various
+materials—from the heavy serviceable leather shown in the clogs here
+and here to the fine brocade clogs made and worn by two brides and
+pictured here. Dainty brass tips and colored morocco straps made a
+really refined pair of clogs. Poplar wood was deemed the best wood for
+pattens and clogs. Sometimes the wooden sole was thin, and was cut at
+the line under the instep in two pieces and hinged. These hinges were
+held to facilitate walking. Children also wore clogs. (See here.)
+Clogs, as worn by English and American folk, did not raise the wearer
+as high above the mud and mire as did pattens, but I have seen Turkish
+clogs that were ten inches high. Chopines were worn by Englishwomen to
+make them look taller. Three are shown here. Lady Falkland was short
+and stout, and wore them for years to increase her apparent height; so
+she states in her memoirs.
+
+It is a curious philological study that, while the words “clogs” and
+“pattens” for a time were constantly heard, the third name which has
+survived till to-day is the oldest of all—“galoshes.” Under the many
+spellings, galoe-shoes, goloshes, gallage, galoche, and gallosh, it has
+come down to us from the Middle Ages. It is spelt galoches in _Piers
+Plowman_. In a _Compotus_—or household account of the Countess of Derby
+in 1388 are entries of botews (boots), souters (slippers), and “one
+pair of galoches, 14 d.” Clogs, or galoches, were known in the days of
+the Saxons, when they were termed “wife’s shoes.”
+
+A “galage” was a shoe “which has nothing on the feet but a latchet”; it
+was simply a clog. In February, 1687, Judge Sewall notes, “Send my
+mothers Shoes &; Golowshoes to carry to her.” In 1736 Peter Faneuil
+sent to England for “Galoushoes” for his sister. Another foot-covering
+for slippery, icy walking is named by Judge Sewall. He wrote on January
+19, 1717, “Great rain and very Slippery; was fain to wear Frosts.”
+These frosts were what had been called on horses, “frost nails,” or
+calks. They were simply spiked soles to help the wearer to walk on ice.
+A pair may be seen at the Deerfield Memorial Hall. Another pair is of
+half-soles with sharp ridges of iron, set, one the length of the
+half-sole, the other across it.
+
+
+Chopines, Seventeenth Century. In the Ashmolean Museum. Chopines,
+Seventeenth Century. In the Ashmolean Museum.
+
+For a time clogs seem to have been in constant use in America; frail
+morocco slippers and thin prunella and callimanco shoes made them
+necessary, as did also the unpaved streets. Heavy-soled shoes were
+unknown for women’s wear. Women walked but short distances. In the
+country they always rode. We find even Quaker women warned in 1720 not
+to wear “Shoes of light Colours bound with Differing Colours, and heels
+White or Red, with White bands, and fine Coloured Clogs and Strings,
+and Scarlet and Purple Stockings and Petticoats made Short to expose
+them”—a rather startling description of footwear. Again, in 1726, in
+Burlington, New Jersey, Friends were asked to be “careful to avoid
+wearing of Stript Shoos, or Red and White Heel’d Shoos, or Clogs, or
+Shoos trimmed with Gawdy Colours.”
+
+
+Brides’ Clogs of Brocade and Sole Leather. Brides’ Clogs of Brocade and
+Sole Leather.
+
+Ann Warder, an English Quaker, was in Philadelphia, 1786 to 1789, and
+kept an entertaining journal, from which I make this quotation:—
+
+
+“Got B. Parker to go out shopping with me. On our way happened of Uncle
+Head, to whom I complained bitterly of the dirty streets, declaring if
+I could purchase a pair of pattens, the singularity I would not mind.
+Uncle soon found me up an apartment, out of which I took a pair and
+trotted along quite Comfortable, crossing some streets with the
+greatest ease, which the idea of had troubled me. My little companion
+was so pleased, that she wished some also, and kept them on her feet to
+learn to walk in them most of the remainder of the day.”
+
+
+Fairholt, in his book upon costume, says, “Pattens date their origin to
+the reign of Anne.” Like many other dates and statements given by this
+author, this is wholly wrong. In _Purchas’, his Pilgrimage_, 1613, is
+this sentence, “Clogges or Pattens to keep them out of the dust they
+may not burden themselves with,” showing that the name and thing was
+the same then as to-day.
+
+
+Clogs of “Pennsylvania Dutch.” Clogs of “Pennsylvania Dutch.”
+
+Charles Dibdin has a song entitled, _The Origin of the Patten_. Fair
+Patty went out in the mud and the mire, and her thin shoes speedily
+were wet. Then she became hoarse and could not sing, while her lover
+longed for the sweet sound of her voice.
+
+
+“My anvil glow’d, my hammer rang,
+Till I had form’d from out the fire
+To bear her feet above the mire,
+A platform for my blue-eyed Patty.
+Again was heard each tuneful close,
+My fair one in the patten rose,
+  Which takes its name from blue-eyed Patty.”
+
+
+This fanciful derivation of the word was not an original thought of
+Dibdin. Gay wrote in his Trivia, 1715:—
+
+
+“The patten now supports each frugal dame
+That from the blue-eyed Patty takes the name.”
+
+
+In reality, patten is derived from the French word _patin_, which has a
+varied meaning of the sole of a shoe or a skate.
+
+Pattens were noisy, awkward wear. A writer of the day of their
+universality wrote, “Those ugly, noisy, ferruginous, ancle-twisting,
+foot-cutting, clinking things called women’s pattens.” Notices were set
+in church porches enjoining the removal of women’s pattens, which, of
+course, should never have been worn into church during service-time.
+
+
+Children’s Clogs. 1730. Children’s Clogs. 1730.
+
+It may have disappeared today, but four years ago, on the door of
+Walpole St. Peters, near Wisbeck, England, hung a board which read,
+“People who enter this church are requested to take off their pattens.”
+A friend in Northamptonshire, England, writes me that pattens are still
+seen on muddy days in remote English villages in that shire.
+
+Men wore pattens in early days. And men did and do wear clogs in
+English mill-towns.
+
+There were also horse pattens or horse clogs which horses wore through
+deep, muddy roads; I have an interesting photograph of a pair found in
+Northampton.
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES
+
+
+_“By my Faith! Master Inkpen, thou hast put thy foot in it! Tis a
+pretty subject and a strange one, and a vast one, but we’ll leave it
+never a sole to stand on. The proverb hath ‘There’s naught like
+leather,’ but my Lady answers ‘Save silk:’”_
+
+—Old Play.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES
+
+
+O
+
+
+ne of the first sumptuary laws in New England declared that men of mean
+estate should not walk abroad in immoderate great boots. It was a
+natural prohibition where all extravagance in dress was reprehended and
+restrained. The “great boots” which had been so vast in the reign of
+James I seemed to be spreading still wider in the reign of Charles. I
+have an old “Discourse” on leather dated 1629, which states fully the
+condition of things. Its various headings read, “The general Use of
+Leather;” “The general Abuse thereof;” “The good which may arise from
+the Reformation;” “The several Statutes made in that behalf by our
+ancient Kings;” and lastly a “Petition to the High Court of
+Parliament.” It is all most informing; for instance, in the trades that
+might want work were it not for leather are named not only “shoemakers,
+cordwainers, curriers, etc.,” but many now obsolete. The list reads:—
+
+
+“Book binders.
+Budget makers.
+Saddlers.
+Trunk makers.
+Upholsterers.
+Belt makers.
+Case makers.
+Box makers.
+Wool-card makers.
+Cabinet makers.
+Shuttle makers.
+Bottle and Jack makers.
+Hawks-hood makers.
+Gridlers.
+Scabbard-makers.
+Glovers.”
+
+
+Unwillingly the author added “those _upstart trades_—Coach Makers, and
+Harness Makers for Coach Horses.” It was really feared, by this
+sensible gentleman-writer—and many others—that if many carriages and
+coaches were used, shoemakers would suffer because so few shoes would
+be worn out.
+
+From the statutes which are rehearsed we learn that the footwear of the
+day was “boots, shoes, buskins, startups, slippers, or pantofles.”
+Stubbes said:—
+
+
+“They have korked shooes puisnets pantoffles, some of black velvet,
+some of white some of green, some of yellow, some of Spanish leather,
+some of English leather stitched with Silke and embroidered with Gold
+&; Silver all over the foot.”
+
+
+A very interesting book has been published by the British Cordwainers’
+Guild, giving a succession of fine illustrations of the footwear of
+different times and nations. Among them are some handsome English
+slippers, shoes, jack-boots, etc. We have also in our museums,
+historical collections, and private families many fine examples; but
+the difficulty is in the assigning of correct dates. Family tradition
+is absolutely wide of the truth—its fabulous dates are often a century
+away from the proper year.
+
+
+The Copley Family Picture. The Copley Family Picture.
+
+
+Wedding Slippers and Brocade. 1712. Wedding Slippers and Brocade. 1712.
+
+Buskins to the knee were worn even by royalty; Queen Elizabeth’s still
+exist. Buskins were in wear when the colonies were settled. Richard
+Sawyer, of Windsor, Connecticut, had cloth buskins in 1648; and a
+hundred years later runaway servants wore them. One redemptioner is
+described as running off in “sliders and buskins.” American buskins
+were a foot-covering consisting of a strong leather sole with cloth
+uppers and leggins to the knees, which were fastened with lacings.
+Startups were similar, but heavier. In Thynne’s _Debate between Pride
+and Lowliness_, the dress of a countryman is described. It runs thus:—
+
+
+“A payre of startups had he on his feete
+   That lased were up to the small of the legge.
+ Homelie they are, and easier than meete;
+   And in their soles full many a wooden pegge.”
+
+
+Thomas Johnson of Wethersfield, Connecticut, died in 1840. He owned “1
+Perre of Startups.”
+
+Slippers were worn even in the fifteenth century. In the _Paston
+Letters_, in a letter dated February 23, 1479, is this sentence, “In
+the whych lettre was VIII d with the whych I shulde bye a peyr of
+slyppers.” Even for those days eightpence must have been a small price
+for slippers. In 1686, Judge Samuel Sewall wrote to a member of the
+Hall family thanking him for “The Kind Loving Token—the East Indian
+Slippers for my wife.” Other colonial letters refer to Oriental
+slippers; and I am sure that Turkish slippers are worn by Lady Temple
+in her childish portrait, painted in company with her brother.
+Slip-shoes were evidently slippers—the word is used by Sewall; and
+slap-shoes are named by Randle Holme. Pantofles were also slippers,
+being apparently rather handsomer footwear than ordinary slippers or
+slip-shoes. They are in general specified as embroidered. Evelyn tells
+of the fine pantofles of the Pope embroidered with jewels on the
+instep.
+
+So great was the use and abuse of leather that a petition was made to
+Parliament in 1629 to attempt to restrict the making of great boots.
+One sentence runs:—
+
+
+“The wearing of Boots is not the Abuse; but the generality of wearing
+and the manner of cutting Boots out with huge slovenly unmannerly
+immoderate tops. What over lavish spending is there in Boots and Shoes.
+To either of which is now added a French proud Superfluity of Leather.
+
+“For the general Walking in Boots it is a Pride taken up by the
+Courtier and is descended to the Clown. The Merchant and Mechanic walk
+in Boots. Many of our Clergy either in neat Boots or Shoes and
+Galloshoes. University Scholars maintain the Fashion likewise. Some
+Citizens out of a Scorn not to be Gentile go every day booted.
+Attorneys, Lawyers, Clerks, Serving Men, All Sorts of Men delight in
+this Wasteful Wantonness.
+
+“Wasteful I may well call it. One pair of boots eats up the leather of
+six reasonable pair of men’s shoes.”
+
+
+
+
+Jack-boots. Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia. Jack-boots. Owned by
+Lord Fairfax of Virginia.
+
+Monstrous boots seem to have been the one frivolity in dress which the
+Puritans could not give up. In the reign of Charles I boots were
+superb. The tops were flaring, lined within with lace or embroidered or
+fringed; thus when turned down they were richly ornamental. Fringes of
+leather, silk, or cloth edged some boot-tops on the outside; the
+leather itself was carved and gilded. The soldiers and officers of
+Cromwell’s army sometimes gave up laces and fringes, but not the
+boot-tops. The Earl of Essex, his general, had cloth fringes on his
+boots. (See his portrait facing here; also the portrait of Lord Fairfax
+here.) In the court of Charles II and Louis XIV of France the boot-tops
+spread to absurd inconvenience. The toes of these boots were very
+square, as were the toes of men’s and women’s shoes. Children’s shoes
+were of similar form. The singular shoes worn by John Quincy and Robert
+Gibbes are precisely right-angled. It was a sneer at the Puritans that
+they wore pointed toes. The shoe-ties, roses, and buckles varied; but
+the square toes lingered, though they were singularly inelegant. On the
+feet of George I (see portrait here) the square-toed shoes are ugly
+indeed.
+
+James I scornfully repelled shoe-roses when brought to him for his
+wear; asking if they wished to “make a ruffle-footed dove” of him. But
+soon he wore the largest rosettes in court. Peacham tells that some
+cost as much as £;30 a pair, being then, of course, of rare lace.
+
+
+Joshua Warner. Joshua Warner.
+
+_Friar Bacon’s Brazen Head Prophecie_, set into a “Plaie” or Rhyme, has
+these verses (1604):
+
+“Then Handkerchers were wrought
+    With Names and true Love Knots;
+And not a wench was taught
+    A false Stitch in her spots;
+When Roses in the Gardaines grew
+And not in Ribons on a Shoe.
+
+“_Now_ Sempsters few are taught
+    The true Stitch in their Spots;
+And Names are sildome wrought
+    Within the true love knots;
+And Ribon Roses takes such Place
+That Garden Roses want their Grace.”
+
+
+Shoes of buff leather, slashed, were the very height of the fashion in
+the first years of the seventeenth century. They can be seen on the
+feet of Will Sommers in his portrait. Through the slashes showed bright
+the scarlet or green stockings of cloth or yarn. Bright-colored
+shoe-strings gave additional gaudiness. Green shoe-strings, spangled,
+gilded shoe-strings, shoes of “dry-neat-leather tied with red ribbons,”
+“russet boots,” “white silken shoe strings,”—all were worn.
+
+Red heels appear about 1710. In Hogarth’s original paintings they are
+seen. Women wore them extensively in America.
+
+The jack-boots of Stuart days seem absolutely imperishable. They are of
+black, jacked leather like the leather bottles and black-jacks from
+which Englishmen drank their ale. So closely are they alike that I do
+not wonder a French traveller wrote home that Englishmen drank from
+their boots. These jack-boots were as solid and unpliable as iron,
+square-toed and clumsy of shape. A pair in perfect preservation which
+belonged to Lord Fairfax in Virginia is portrayed here. Had all
+colonial gentlemen worn jack-boots, the bootmakers and shoemakers would
+have been ruined, for a pair would last a lifetime.
+
+
+Shoe and Knee Buckles. Shoe and Knee Buckles.
+
+In 1767 we find William Cabell of Virginia paying these prices for his
+finery:—
+
+£	s.	d. 1 Pair single channelled boots with straps	 1	 2 1
+Pair Strong Buckskin Breeches	1	 10 2 Pairs Fashionable Chain
+Silver Spurs 	 2	 10 1 Pair Silver Buttons 		 6 1 fine
+Magazine Blue Cloth Housing laced		12 1 Strong Double
+Bridle		4	 6 6 Pair Men’s fine Silk Hose	 4 	 4 Buttons
+&; trimmings for a coat	 5	 2
+
+New England dandies wore, as did Monsieur A-la-mode:—
+
+  “A pair of smart pumps made up of grain’d leather,
+   So thin he can’t venture to tread on a feather.”
+
+
+Buckles were made of pinchbeck, an alloy of four parts of copper and
+one part of zinc, invented by Christopher Pinchbeck, a London
+watchmaker of the eighteenth century. Buckles were also “plaited” and
+double “plaited” with gold and silver (which was the general spelling
+of plated). Plated buckles were cast in pinchbeck, with a pattern on
+the surface. A silver coating was laid over this. These buckles were
+set with marcasite, garnet, and paste jewels; sometimes they were of
+gold with real diamonds. But much imitation jewellery was worn by all
+people even of great wealth. Perhaps imitation is an incorrect word.
+The old paste jewels made no assertion of being diamonds. Steel cut in
+facets and combined with gold, made beautiful buckles. A number of rich
+shoe and garter buckles, owned in Salem, are shown here.
+
+These old buckles were handsome, costly, dignified; they were becoming;
+they were elegant. Nevertheless, the fashionable world tired of its
+expensive and appropriate buckles; they suddenly were deemed
+inconveniently large, and plain shoe-strings took their place. This
+caused great commotion and ruin among the buckle-makers, who, with the
+fatuity of other tradespeople—the wig-makers, the hair-powder makers—in
+like calamitous changes of fashion, petitioned the Prince of Wales, in
+1791, to do something to revive their vanishing trade. But it was like
+placing King Canute against the advancing waves of the sea.
+
+
+Wedding Slippers. Wedding Slippers.
+
+When the Revolutionists in France set about altering and simplifying
+costume, they did away with shoe-buckles, and fastened their shoes with
+plain strings. Minister Roland, one day in 1793, was about to present
+himself to Louis XVI while he was wearing shoes with strings. The old
+Master of Ceremonies, scandalized at having to introduce a person in
+such a state of undress, looked despairingly at Dumouriez, who was
+present. Dumouriez replied with an equally hopeless gesture, and the
+words, “Hélas! oui, monsieur, tout est perdu.”
+
+President Jefferson, with his hateful French notions, made himself
+especially obnoxious to conservative American folk by giving up
+shoe-buckles. I read in the _New York Evening Post_ that when he
+received the noisy bawling band of admirers who brought into the White
+House the Mammoth Cheese (one of the most vulgar exhibitions ever seen
+in this country), he was “dressed in his suit of customary black, with
+shoes that laced tight round the ankle and closed with a neat leathern
+string.”
+
+When shoe-strings were established and trousers were becoming popular,
+there seemed to be a time of indecision as to the dress of the legs
+below the short pantaloons and above the stringed shoes. That point of
+indefiniteness was filled promptly with top-boots. First, black tops
+appeared; then came tops of fancy leather, of which yellow was the
+favorite. Gilt tassels swung pleasingly from the colored tops. Silken
+tassels—home made—were worn. I have a letter from a young American
+macaroni to his sweetheart in which he thanks her for her
+“heart-filling boot-tossels”—which seems to me a very cleverly
+flattering adjective. He adds: “Did those rosy fingers twist the silken
+strands, and knot them with thought of the wearer? I wish you was
+loveing enough to tye some threads of your golden hair into the
+tossells, but I swear I cannot find never a one.” The conjunction of
+two negatives in this manner was common usage a hundred years ago;
+while “you was” may be found in the writings of our greatest authors of
+that date.
+
+In one attribute, women’s footwear never varied in the two centuries of
+this book’s recording. It was always thin-soled and of light material;
+never adequate for much “walking abroad” or for any wet weather. In
+fact, women have never worn heavy walking-boots until our own day.
+Whether high-heeled or no-heeled they were always thin.
+
+The curious “needle-pointed” slippers which are pictured here were the
+bridal slippers at the wedding of Cornelia de Peyster, who married
+Oliver Teller in 1712. Several articles of her dress still exist; and
+the background of the slippers is a breadth of the superb yellow and
+silver brocade wedding gown worn at the same time.
+
+When we have the tiny pages of the few newspapers to turn to, we learn
+a little of women’s shoes. There were advertisements in 1740 of
+“mourning shoes,” “fine silk shoes,” “flowered russet shoes,” “white
+callimanco shoes,” “black shammy shoes,” “girls’ flowered russet
+shoes,” “shoes of black velvet, white damask, red morocco, and red
+everlasting.” “Damask worsted shoes in red, blue, green, pink color and
+white,” in 1751. There were satinet patterns for ladies’ shoes
+embroidered with flowers in the vamp. The heels were “high, cross-cut,
+common, court, and wurtemburgh.” Some shoes were white with russet
+bands. “French fall” shoes were worn both by women and men for many
+years.
+
+
+Mrs. Abigail Bromfield Rogers. Mrs. Abigail Bromfield Rogers.
+
+Here is a pair of beautiful brocade wedding shoes. The heels are not
+high. Another pair was made of the silken stuff of the beautiful sacque
+worn by Mrs. Carroll. These have high heels running down to a very
+small heel-base. In the works of Hogarth we may find many examples of
+women’s shoes. In all the old shoes I have seen, made about the time of
+the American Revolution, the maker’s name is within and this legend,
+“Rips mended free.” Many heels were much higher and smaller than any
+given in this book.
+
+
+Mrs. Carroll’s Slippers. Mrs. Carroll’s Slippers.
+
+It is astonishing to read the advocacy and eulogy given by sensible
+gentlemen to these extreme heels. Watson, the writer of the _Annals of
+Philadelphia_, extolled their virtues—that they threw the weight of the
+wearer on the ball of the foot and spread it out for a good support. He
+deplores the flat feet of 1830.
+
+In 1790 heels disappeared; sandal-shapes were the mode. The quarters
+were made low, and instead of a buckle was a tiny bow or a pleated
+ribbon edging. In 1791 “the exact size” of the shoe of the Duchess of
+York was published—a fashionable fad which our modern sensation hunters
+have not bethought themselves of. It was 5 3/4 inches in length; the
+breadth of sole, 1 3/4 inches. It was a colored print, and shows that
+the lady’s shoe was of green silk spotted with gold stars, and bound
+with scarlet silk. The sole is thicker at the back, forming a slight
+uplift which was not strictly a heel. Of course, this was a tiny foot,
+but we do not know the height of the duchess.
+
+I have seen the remains of a charming pair of court shoes worn in
+France by a pretty Boston girl. These had been embroidered with paste
+jewels, “diamonds”; while to my surprise the back seam of both shoes
+was outlined with paste emeralds. I find that this was the mode of the
+court of Marie Antoinette. The queen and her ladies wore these in real
+jewels, and in affectation wore no jewels elsewhere.
+
+In Mrs. Gaskell’s _My Lady Ludlow_ we are told that my lady would not
+sanction the mode of the beginning of the century which “made all the
+fine ladies take to making shoes.” Mrs. Blundell, in one of her novels,
+sets her heroine (about 1805) at shoe-making. The shoes of that day
+were very thin of material, very simple of shape, were heelless, and in
+many cases closely approached a sandal. A pair worn by my great-aunt at
+that date is shown on this page. American women certainly had tiny
+feet. This aunt was above the average height, but her shoes are no
+larger than the number known to-day as “Ones”—a size about large enough
+for a girl ten years old.
+
+
+White Kid Slippers. 1815. White Kid Slippers. 1815.
+
+It was not long after English girls were making shoes that Yankee girls
+were shaping and binding them in New England. I have seen several old
+letters which gave rules for shaping and directions for sewing
+party-shoes of thin light kid and silk. It is not probable that any
+heavy materials were ever made up by women at home. Sandals also were
+worn, and made by girls for their own wear from bits of morocco and
+kid.
+
+In the early years of the century the thin, silk hose and low slippers
+of the French fashions proved almost unendurable in our northern
+winters. One wearer of the time writes, “Many a time have I walked
+Broadway when the pavement sent almost a death chill to my heart.” The
+Indians then furnished an article of dress which must have been
+grateful indeed, pretty moccasins edged with fur, to be worn over the
+thin slippers.
+
+An old lady recalled with precision that the first boots for women’s
+wear came in fashion in 1828; they were laced at the side. Garters and
+boots both had fringes at the top.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10115 ***
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Two Centuries of Costume in America, Vol. 1 (1620-1820), by Alice Morse Earle</title>
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10115 ***</div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:55%;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" />
+</div>
+
+<h1>TWO CENTURIES OF COSTUME IN AMERICA<br/>
+MDCXX-MDCCCXX</h1>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2 class="no-break">ALICE MORSE EARLE</h2>
+
+<h3>AUTHOR OF “SUN-DIALS AND ROSES OF YESTERDAY” “OLD TIME GARDENS,” ETC.</h3>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>VOLUME I</h2>
+
+<h4>Nineteen Hundred and Three</h4>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<a name="Madam_Padishal_and_Child."></a>
+<img src="images/423.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Madam Padishal and Child" />
+<p class="caption">Madam Padishal and Child.
+</p></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p>
+<i>To George P. Brett</i>
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“An honest Stationer (or Publisher) is he, that exercizeth his Mystery
+(whether it be in printing, bynding or selling of Bookes) with more respect to
+the glory of God &amp; the publike aduantage than to his owne Commodity &amp;
+is both an ornament &amp; a profitable member in a ciuill Commonwealth.... If
+he be a Printer he makes conscience to exemplefy his Coppy fayrely &amp; truly.
+If he be a Booke-bynder, he is no meere Bookeseller (that is) one who selleth
+meerely ynck &amp; paper bundled up together for his owne aduantage only: but
+he is a Chapman of Arts, of wisdome, &amp; of much experience for a little
+money.... The reputation of Schollers is as deare unto him as his owne: For, he
+acknowledgeth that from them his Mystery had both begining and means of
+continuance. He heartely loues &amp; seekes the Prosperity of his owne
+Corporation: Yet he would not iniure the Uniuersityes to advantage it. In a
+word, he is such a man that the State ought to cherish him; Schollers to loue
+him; good Customers to frequent his shopp; and the whole Company of Stationers
+to pray for him.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—GEORGE WITHER, 1625.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<h3>VOL. I</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap01">I. APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap02">II. DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap03">III. ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap04">IV. A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap05">V. THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap06">VI. RUFFS AND BANDS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap07">VII. CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap08">VIII. THE VENERABLE HOOD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap09">IX. CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap10">X. THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap11">XI. PERUKES AND PERIWIGS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap12">XII. THE BEARD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap13">XIII. PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap14">XIV. BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES</a>
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOLUME I</h2>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Madam_Padishal_and_Child.">MADAM PADISHAL AND CHILD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<i>Frontispiece</i>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This fine presentation of the dress of a gentlewoman and infant child, in the
+middle of the seventeenth century, hung in old Plymouth homes in the Thomas and
+Stevenson families till it came by inheritance to the present owner, Mrs.
+Greely Stevenson Curtis of Boston, Mass. The artist is unknown.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_John_Endicott">JOHN ENDICOTT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Dorchester, Eng., 1589. Died in Boston, Mass., 1665. He emigrated to
+America in 1628; became governor of the colony in 1644, and was major-general
+of the colonial troops. He hated Indians, the Church of Rome, and Quakers. He
+wears a velvet skull-cap, and a finger-ring, which is somewhat unusual; a
+square band; a richly fringed and embroidered glove; and a “stiletto” beard.
+This portrait is in the Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_Edward_Winslow.">EDWARD WINSLOW</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in England, 1595; died at sea, 1655. One of the founders of the Plymouth
+colony in 1620; and governor of that colony in 1633, 1636, 1644. This portrait
+is dated 1651. It is in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_John_Winthrop.">JOHN WINTHROP</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in England, 1588; died in Boston, 1649. Educated at Trinity College,
+Cambridge; admitted to the Inner Temple, 1628. Made governor of Massachusetts
+Bay Colony in 1629. Arrived in Salem, 1630. His portrait by Van Dyck and a fine
+miniature exist. The latter is owned by American Antiquarian Society,
+Worcester, Mass. This picture is copied from a very rare engraving from the
+miniature, which is finer and even more thoughtful in expression than the
+portrait. Both have the lace-edged ruff, but the shape of the dress is
+indistinct.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_Simon_Bradstreet.">SIMON BRADSTREET</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in England, 1603; died in Salem, Mass., 1697. He was governor of the
+colony when he was ninety years old. The Labadists, who visited him, wrote: “He
+is an old man, quiet and grave; dressed in black silk, but not sumptuously.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Sir_Richard_Saltonstall.">SIR RICHARD SALTONSTALL</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A mayor of London who came to Salem among the first settlers. The New England
+families of his name are all descended from him. He wears buff-coat and
+trooping scarf. This portrait was painted by Rembrandt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Sir_Walter_Raleigh.">SIR WALTER RALEIGH</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Devonshire, Eng., 1552; executed in London, 1618. A courtier, poet,
+historian, nobleman, soldier, explorer, and colonizer. He was the favorite of
+Elizabeth; the colonizer of Virginia; the hero of the Armada; the victim of
+King James. In this portrait he wears a slashed jerkin; a lace ruff; a broad
+trooping scarf with great lace shoulder-knot; a jewelled sword-belt; full,
+embroidered breeches; lace-edged garters, and vast shoe-roses, which combine to
+form a confused dress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Sir_Walter_Raleigh_and_Son.">SIR WALTER RALEIGH AND SON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This print was owned by the author for many years, with the written endorsement
+by some unknown hand, <i>Martin Frobisher and Son</i>. I am glad to learn that
+it is from a painting by Zucchero of Raleigh and his son, and is owned at
+Wickham Court, in Kent, Eng., by the descendant of one of Raleigh’s companions
+in his explorations. The child’s dress is less fantastic than other portraits
+of English children of the same date.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#ROBERT_DEVEREUX">ROBERT DEVEREUX, EARL OF ESSEX</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From an old print. A general of Cromwell’s army.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Cromwell_dissolving_Parliament.">OLIVER CROMWELL DISSOLVING
+PARLIAMENT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From an old Dutch print.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Sir_William_Waller.">SIR WILLIAM WALLER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A general in Cromwell’s army. Born, 1597; died, 1668. He served in the Thirty
+Years’ War. This portrait is in the National Portrait Gallery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#TherightHonourableFerdinandLordFairfax">LORD FAIRFAX</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A general in Cromwell’s army. From an old print.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Alderman_Abell_and_Richard_Kilvert">ALDERMAN ABELL AND RICHARD
+KILVERT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From an old print.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Reverend_John_Cotton.">REV. JOHN COTTON, D.D.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Derby, Eng., 1585; died at Boston, Mass., in 1652. A Puritan clergyman
+who settled in Boston in 1633. He drew up for the colonists, at the request of
+the General Court, an abstract of the laws of Moses entitled <i>Moses His
+Judicials</i>, which was of greatest influence in the formation of the laws of
+the colony. This portrait is owned by Robert C. Winthrop, Esq.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Reverend_Cotton_Mather.">REV. COTTON MATHER, D.D.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Boston, Mass., 1683; died in Boston, Mass., 1728. A clergyman, author,
+and scholar. His book, <i>Magnalia Christi Americana</i>, an ecclesiastical
+history of New England, is of much value, though most trying. He took an active
+and now much-abhorred part in the Salem witchcraft. This portrait is owned by
+the American Antiquarian Society, Worcester, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#SlashedSleevestempCharlesI">SLASHED SLEEVES</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From portraits <i>temp</i>. Charles I. The first is from a Van Dyck portrait of
+the Earl of Stanhope, and has a rich, lace-edged cuff. The second, with a
+graceful lawn undersleeve, is from a Van Dyck of Lucius Gary, Viscount
+Falkland. The third is from a painting by Mytens of the Duke of Hamilton. The
+fourth, by Van Dyck, is from one of Lord Villiers, Viscount Grandison.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._William_Clark.">MRS. KATHERINE CLARK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1602; died, 1671. An English gentlewoman renowned in her day for her
+piety and charity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Lady_Mary_Armine.">LADY MARY ARMINE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An English lady of great piety, whose gifts to Christianize the Indians make
+her name appear in the early history of Massachusetts. Her black domino and
+frontlet are of interest. This portrait was painted about 1650.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#The_Tub-preacher.">THE TUB-PREACHER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An old print of a Quaker meeting. Probably by Marcel Lawson.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Old_Venice_Point_Lace.">VENICE POINT LACE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Mrs. Robert Fulton Crary of Poughkeepsie, N.Y.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">REBECCA RAWSON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The daughter of Edward Rawson, Secretary of State. Born in Boston in 1656;
+married in 1679 to an adventurer, Thomas Rumsey, who called himself Sir Thomas
+Hale. She died at sea, in 1692. This portrait is owned by New England Historic
+Genealogical Society.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Elizabeth_Paddy_Wensley.">ELIZABETH PADDY</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Plymouth, Mass., in 1641. Daughter of William Paddy; she married John
+Wensley of Plymouth. Their daughter Sarah married Dr. Isaac Winslow. This
+portrait is in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">MRS. SIMEON STODDARD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A wealthy Boston gentlewoman. This portrait was painted in the latter half of
+the seventeenth century. It is owned by the Massachusetts Historical Society.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Ancient_Black_Lace.">ANCIENT BLACK LACE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Mrs. Robert Fulton Crary, Poughkeepsie, N.Y.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Virago-sleeve.">VIRAGO-SLEEVE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From a French portrait.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#NinondelEnclos">NINON DE L’ENCLOS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Paris, 1615; died in 1705. Her dress has a slashed virago-sleeve and
+lace whisk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Lady_Catharina_Howard.">LADY CATHERINE HOWARD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Grandchild of the Earl of Arundel. Aged thirteen years. Drawn in 1646 by W.
+Hollar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Costumes_of_Englishwomen_of_the_Seventeenth_Century.">COSTUMES OF
+ENGLISHWOMEN OF SEVENTEENTH CENTURY</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Plates from <i>Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus, or Several Habits of
+Englishwomen</i>, 1640. By Wenceslaus Hollar, an engraver of much note and much
+performance; born at Prague, 1607; died in England, 1677. This book contains
+twenty-six plates illustrating women’s dress in all ranks of life with absolute
+fidelity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._Livingstone.">GERTRUDE SCHUYLER LIVINGSTONE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Second wife and widow of Robert Livingstone. The curiously plaited widow’s cap
+can be seen under her hood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._Magdalen_Beekman.">MRS. MAGDALEN BEEKMAN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Died in New York in 1730. Widow of Gerardus Beekman, who died in 1723.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Lady_Anne_Clifford.">LADY ANNE CLIFFORD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1590. Daughter of George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland. Painted in 1603.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Lady_Herrman.">LADY HERRMAN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of Bohemia Manor, Maryland. Wife of a pioneer settler. From <i>Some Colonial
+Mansions</i>. Published by Henry T. Coates &amp; Co.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Elizabeth_Cromwell.">ELIZABETH CROMWELL</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother of Oliver Cromwell. She died at Whitehall in 1654, aged 90 years. This
+portrait is at Hinchinbrook, and is owned by the Earl of Sandwich. It was
+painted by Robert Walker. Her dress is described as “a green velvet cardinal,
+trimmed with gold lace.” Her hood is white satin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Pocahontas.">POCAHONTAS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Daughter of Powhatan, and wife of Mr. Thomas Rolfe. Born 1593; died 1619; aged
+twenty-one when this was painted. The portrait is owned by a member of the
+Rolfe family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Duchess_of_Buckingham_and_her_Two_Children.">DUCHESS OF BUCKINGHAM
+AND CHILDREN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Painted in 1626 by Gerard Honthorst. In the original the Duke of Buckingham is
+also upon the canvas. He was George Villiers, the “Steenie” of James I, who was
+assassinated by John Felton. The duchess was the daughter of the Earl of
+Rutland. The little daughter was afterwards Duchess of Richmond and Lenox. The
+baby was George, the second Duke of Buckingham, poet, politician, courtier, the
+friend of Charles II. The picture is now in the National Portrait Gallery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#AWomansDoubletMrsAnneTurner">A WOMAN’S DOUBLET</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Worn by the infamous Mrs. Anne Turner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#A_Puritan_Dame.">A PURITAN DAME</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Plate from <i>Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Penelope_Winslow.">PENELOPE WINSLOW</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Painted in 1651. Dress dull olive; mantle bright red; pearl necklace, ear-rings
+and pearl bandeau in hair. The hair is curled as the hair in portraits of Queen
+Henrietta Maria. In Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Gold-fringed_Gloves_of_Governor_Leverett.">GOLD-FRINGED GLOVES OF
+GOVERNOR LEVERETT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Embroidered_Petticoat_Band.">EMBROIDERED PETTICOAT-BAND, 1750</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bright-colored crewels on linen. Owned by the Misses Manning of Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Blue_Brocade_Gown_and_Quilted_Satin_Petticoat.">BLUE DAMASK GOWN AND
+QUILTED SATIN PETTICOAT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These were owned by Mrs. James Lovell, who was born 1735; died, 1817. Through
+her only daughter, Mrs. Pickard, who died in 1812, they came to her only child,
+Mary Pickard (Mrs. Henry Ware, Jr.), whose heirs now own them. They are in the
+keeping of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#A_Plain_Jerkin.">A PLAIN JERKIN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This portrait is of Martin Frobisher, hero of the Armada; explorer in 1576,
+1577, and 1578 for the Northwestern Passage, and discoverer of Frobisher’s Bay.
+He died in 1594.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#A_Doublet.">CLOTH DOUBLET</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This portrait is of Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire. Owned by the Duke of
+Bedford. It shows a plain cloth doublet with double row of turreted welts at
+the shoulder. Horace Walpole says of this portrait, “He is quite in the style
+of Queen Elizabeth’s lovers; red-bearded, and not comely.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#JAMES_DUKE_OF_YORK">JAMES, DUKE OF YORK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1633. Afterwards James II of England. This scene in a tennis-court was
+painted about 1643.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#An_Embroidered_Jerkin.">EMBROIDERED JERKIN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This portrait is of George Carew, Earl of Totnes. It was painted by Zucchero,
+and is owned by the Earl of Verulam. He wears a rich jerkin with four laps on
+each side below the belt; it is embroidered in sprigs, and guarded on the
+seams. The sleeves are detached. He wears also a rich sword-belt and ruff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#John_Lilburne.">JOHN LILBURNE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Greenwich, Eng., in 1614; died in 1659. A Puritan soldier, politician,
+and pamphleteer. He was fined, whipped, pilloried, tried for treason, sedition,
+controversy, libel. He was imprisoned in the Tower, Newgate, Tyburn, and the
+Castle. He was a Puritan till he turned Quaker. His sprawling boots, dangling
+knee-points, and silly little short doublet form a foolish dress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Colonel_William_Legge.">COLONEL WILLIAM LEGGE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in 1609. Died in 1672. He was a stanch Royalist. His portrait is by Jacob
+Huysmans, and is in the National Portrait Gallery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#205">SIR THOMAS ORCHARD KNIGHT, 1646</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From an old print indorsed “S Glover ad vivum delineavit 1646.” He is in
+characteristic court-dress, with slashed sleeves, laced cloak, laced garters,
+and shoe-roses. His hair and beard are like those of Charles II.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#The_English_Antick.">THE ENGLISH ANTICK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From a broadside of 1646.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#George_I.">GEORGE I OF ENGLAND</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Hanover, 1660. Died in Hanover, 1727. Crowned King of England in 1714.
+This portrait is by Sir Godfrey Kneller, and is in the National Portrait
+Gallery. It is remarkable for its ribbons and curious shoes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Three_Cassock_Sleeves_and_a_Buff-coat_Sleeve.">THREE CASSOCK SLEEVES
+AND A BUFF-COAT SLEEVE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<i>Temp</i>. Charles I. The first sleeve is from a portrait of Lord Bedford.
+The second, with shoulder-knot of ribbon, was worn by Algernon Sidney; the
+third is from a Van Dyck portrait of Viscount Grandison; the fourth, the sleeve
+of a curiously slashed buff-coat worn by Sir Philip Sidney.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#HenryBennetEarlofArlington">HENRY BENNET, EARL OF ARLINGTON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1618; died, 1685. From the original by Sir Peter Lely. This is asserted
+to be the costume chosen by Charles II in 1661 “to wear forever.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Funeral_Procession.">FIGURES FROM FUNERAL PROCESSION OF THE DUKE OF
+ALBEMARLE IN 1670</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These drawings of “Gentlemen,” “Earls,” “Clergymen,” “Physicians,” and “Poor
+Men” are by F. Sanford, Lancaster Herald, and are from his engraving of the
+Funeral Procession of George Monk, Duke of Albemarle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Earl_of_Southampton.">EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, HENRY WRIOTHESLEY.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1573. Died in The Netherlands in 1624. He was the friend of Shakespere,
+and governor of the Virginia Company. This portrait is by Mierevelt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#A_Bowdoin_Portrait">A BOWDOIN PORTRAIT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This fine portrait is by a master’s hand. The name of the subject is unknown.
+The initials would indicate that he was a Bowdoin, or a Baudouine, which was
+the name of the original emigrant. It has been owned by the Bowdoin family
+until it was presented to Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Me., where it now hangs
+in the Walker Art Building.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#William_Pyncheon.">WILLIAM PYNCHEON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1590; died, 1670. This portrait was painted in 1657. It is in an unusual
+dress, with the only double row of buttons I have seen on a portrait of that
+date. It also shows no hair under the close cap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Reverend_Jonathan_Edwards.">JONATHAN EDWARDS, D.D.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, Windsor, Conn., 1703. Died, Princeton, N.J., 1758. A theologian,
+metaphysician, missionary, author, and president of Princeton University.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Captain_George_Curwen.">GEORGE CURWEN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in England, 1610; died in Salem, 1685. He came to Salem in 1638, where he
+was the most prominent merchant, and commanded a troop of horse, whereby he
+acquired his title of Captain. He is in military dress. Portrait owned by Essex
+Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Lace_Gorget_and_Cane">WALKING-STICK AND LACE FRILL, 1660</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These articles are in the Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_Coddington.">WILLIAM CODDINGTON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Leicestershire, Eng., 1601; died in Rhode Island, 1678. One of the
+founders of the Rhode Island Colony, and governor for many years.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Thomas_Fayerweather.">THOMAS FAYERWEATHER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1692; died, 1733, in Boston. Married, in 1718, Hannah Waldo, sister of
+Brigadier-general Samuel Waldo. This portrait is by Smybcrt. It is owned by his
+descendants, Miss Elizabeth L. Bond and Miss Catherine Harris Bond, of
+Cambridge, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#KingCarterinYouthbySirGodfreyKneller">“KING” CARTER IN YOUTH</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#City_Flat-cap">CITY FLAT-CAP</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Worn by “Bilious” Bale, who died in 1563. His square beard, coif, and citizen’s
+flat-cap were worn by Englishmen till 1620.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#King_James_I_of_England.">KING JAMES I OF ENGLAND</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This portrait was painted before he was king of England. It is now in the
+National Portrait Gallery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#FulkeGrevilleLordBrooke">FULKE GREVILLE, LORD BROOKE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In doublet, with curious slashed tabs or bands at the waist, forming a roll
+like a woman’s farthingale. The hat, with jewelled hat-band, is of a singular
+and ugly shape.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#JamesDouglasEarlofMorton">JAMES DOUGLAS, EARL OF MORTON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His hat, band, and jerkin are unusual.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Elihu_Yale.">ELIHU YALE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Boston, Mass., in 1648. Died in England in 1721. He founded Yale
+College, now Yale University. This portrait is owned by Yale University, New
+Haven, Conn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Thomas_Cecil">THOMAS CECIL, FIRST EARL OF EXETER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Died in 1621.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Cornelius_Steinwyck.">CORNELIUS STEINWYCK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The wealthiest merchant of New Amsterdam in the seventeenth century. This
+portrait is owned by the New York Historical Society.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Hat_with_a_Glove_as_a_Favor.">HAT WITH GLOVE AS A FAVOR</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From portrait of George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland. He died in 1605.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Gulielma_Penn.">GULIELMA SPRINGETT PENN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+First wife of William Penn. Born, 1644; died, 1694. The original painting is on
+glass. Owned by the heirs of Henry Swan, Dorking, Eng.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Hannah_Callowhill_Penn.">HANNAH CALLOWHILL PENN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Second wife of William Penn; from a portrait now in Blackwell Hall, County
+Durham, Eng.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Madame_de_Miramion.">MADAME DE MIRAMION</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1629; died in Paris, 1696.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#The_Strawberry_Girl.">THE STRAWBERRY GIRL</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From Tempest’s <i>Cries of London</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Black_Silk_Hood.">OPERA HOOD, OR CARDINAL, OF BLACK SILK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is now in Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Quilted_Hood.">QUILTED HOOD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Miss Mary Atkinson of Doylestown, Pa.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Pink_Silk_Hood.">PINK SILK HOOD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Miss Alice Browne of Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Pug_Hood.">PUG HOOD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Miss Alice Browne of Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Scarlet_Broadcloth_Hooded_Cloak.">SCARLET CLOAK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This fine broadcloth cloak and hood were worn by Judge Curwen. They are in
+perfect preservation, owing, in later years, to the excellent care given them
+by their present owner, Miss Bessie Curwen, of Salem, Mass., a descendant of
+the original owner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Judge_Stoughton.">JUDGE STOUGHTON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#WomansCloakFromHogarth">WOMAN’S CLOAK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From Hogarth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#A_Capuchin._From_Hogarth.">A CAPUCHIN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From Hogarth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Lady_Caroline_Montagu.">LADY CAROLINE MONTAGU</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Daughter of Duke of Buccleuch. Painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds in 1776.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#John_Quincy.">JOHN QUINCY</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1686. This portrait is owned by Brooks Adams, Esq., Boston, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#MissCampion1667">Miss CAMPION</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From Andrew W. Tuer’s <i>History of the Hornbook</i>. This portrait has hung
+for two centuries in an Essex manor-house. Its date, 1661, is but nine years
+earlier than the portraits of the Gibbes children, and the dress is the same.
+The cavalier hat and cuffs are the only varying detail.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#InfantsCap">INFANT’S CAP</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tambour work, 1790.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Eleanor_Foster._1755.">ELEANOR FOSTER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1746. She married Dr. Nathaniel Coffin, of Portland, Me., and became the
+mother of the beautiful Martha, who married Richard C. Derby. This portrait was
+painted in 1755. It is owned by Mrs. Greely Stevenson Curtis of Boston, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#311">WILLIAM, PRINCE OF ORANGE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From an old print.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._Theodore_Sedgwick_and_Daughter.">MRS. THEODORE S. SEDGWICK AND
+DAUGHTER.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Sedgwick was Pamela Dwight. This portrait was painted by Ralph Earle, and
+exhibits one of his peculiarities. The home of the subject of the portrait is
+shown through an open window, though the immediate surroundings are a room
+within the house. The child is Catherine M. Sedgwick, the poet. This painting
+is owned in Stockbridge by members of the family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Infant_Child_of_Francis_Hopkinson">INFANT CHILD OF FRANCIS HOPKINSON,
+THE SIGNER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A drawing in crayon by the child’s father. The child carries a coral and bells.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#MarySeton1763">MARY SETON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+1763. Died in 1800, aged forty. Married John Wilkes of New York. White frock
+and blue scarf.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#The_Bowdoin_Children.">THE BOWDOIN CHILDREN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lady Temple and Governor James Bowdoin in childhood. The artist of this
+pleasing portrait is unknown. I think it was painted by Blackburn. It is now in
+the Walker Art Gallery, at Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Miss_Lydia_Robinson">Miss LYDIA ROBINSON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aged twelve years, daughter of Colonel James Robinson, Salem, Mass. Painted by
+M. Corné in 1808. Owned by the Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Knitted_Flaxen_Mittens.">KNITTED FLAXEN MITTENS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These are knitted upon finest wire needles, of linen thread, which had been
+spun, and the flax raised and prepared by the knitter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._Elizabeth_Lux_Russell_and_Daughter">MRS. ELIZABETH (LUX) RUSSELL
+AND DAUGHTER.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Christening_Shirt_and_Mitts_of_Governor_Bradford">CHRISTENING SHIRT
+AND MITTS OF GOVERNOR BRADFORD.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+White linen with pinched sleeves and chaney ruffles and fingertips. Owned by
+Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Flanders_Lace_Mitts.">FLANDERS LACE MITTS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These infant’s mitts were worn in the sixteenth century, and came to Salem with
+the first emigrants. Owned by Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#InfantsAdjustableCap">INFANT’S ADJUSTABLE CAP</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This has curious shirring-strings to make it fit heads of various sizes. It is
+home spun and woven, and the lace edging is home knit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Rev._J.P._Dabney_when_a_Child.">REV. JOHN P. DABNEY, WHEN A CHILD IN
+1806</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This portrait of a Salem minister in childhood is in jacket and trousers, with
+openwork collar and ruffles. It is now owned by the Essex Institute, Salem,
+Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Robert_Gibbes.">ROBERT GIBBES</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1665. This portrait is dated 1670. It is owned by Miss Sarah B. Hager of
+Kendal Green, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Nankeen_Breeches_with_Silver_Buttons.">NANKEEN BREECHES, WITH SILVER
+BUTTONS. 1790</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Ralph_Izard_when_a_Little_Boy._1750.">RALPH IZARD, WHEN A LITTLE
+BOY</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Charleston, S. C., 1742; died in 1804. Painted in 1750. He was United
+States Senator 1789-1795. This debonair little figure in blue velvet,
+silk-embroidered waistcoat, silken hose, buckled shoes, and black hat,
+gold-laced, is a miniature courtier. The portrait is now owned by William E.
+Huger, Esq., of Charleston, S.C.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_and_Reverend_Gurdon_Saltonstall.">GOVERNOR AND REVEREND
+GURDON SALTONSTALL</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in 1666; died in 1724. Governor of Connecticut, 1708-24. He was also
+ordained a minister of the church at New London.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mayor_Rip_Van_Dam.">MAYOR RIP VAN DAM</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mayor of New York in 1710.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Abraham_De_Peyster.">JUDGE ABRAHAM DE PEYSTER OF NEW YORK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_De_Bienville.">GOVERNOR DE BIENVILLE, JEAN BAPTISTE
+LEMOINE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Montreal, Can., 1680. Died in 1768. French Governor of Louisiana for
+many years. He founded New Orleans. The original is in Longeuil, Can.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Daniel_Waldo.">DANIEL WALDO</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Boston, 1724; died in 1808. Married Rebecca Salisbury.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Reverend_John_Marsh.">REV. JOHN MARSH, HARTFORD, CONN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#John_Adams_in_Youth.">JOHN ADAMS IN YOUTH</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Braintree, Mass., 1735; died at Quincy, Mass., 1826. Second President
+of the United States, 1797-1801. He was a member of Congress, signer of
+Declaration of Independence, Commissioner to France, Ambassador to The
+Netherlands, Peace Commissioner to Great Britain, Minister to Court of St.
+James. This portrait in youth is in a wig. Throughout life he wore his hair
+bushed out at the ears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#JonathanEdwards2nd">JONATHAN EDWARDS, D.D.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in 1745; died in 1801. He was a son of the great Jonathan Edwards, and was
+President of Union College, Schenectady, 1799-1801. This portrait shows the
+fashion of dressing the hair when wigs and powder had been banished and the
+hair hung lank and long in the neck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Patrick_Henry.">PATRICK HENRY</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Virginia, 1736; died in Charlotte County, Va., in 1799. An orator,
+patriot, and a leader in the American Revolution. He organized the Committees
+of Correspondence, was a member of Continental Congress, 1774, of the Virginia
+Convention, 1775, and was governor of Virginia for several terms. This portrait
+shows him in lawyer’s close wig and robe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#KingCarterDied1732">“KING” CARTER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Died, 1732.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Judge_Benjamin_Lynde.">JUDGE BENJAMIN LYNDE, OF SALEM AND BOSTON,
+MASS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Died, 1745. Painted by Smybert.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#John_Rutledge.">JOHN RUTLEDGE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, Charleston, S.C., 1739; died, 1800. He was member of Congress, governor
+of South Carolina, chief justice of Supreme Court. His hair is tied in cue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#CampaignRamilliesBobandPigtailWigs">CAMPAIGN, RAMILLIES, BOB, AND
+PIGTAIL WIGS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Rev._William_Welsteed.">REV. WILLIAM WELSTEED</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From an engraving by Copley, his only engraving.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Thomas_Hopkinson.">THOMAS HOPKINSON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in London, 1709. Came to America in 1731. Married Mary Johnson in 1736.
+Made Judge of the Admiralty in 1741. Died in 1751. He was the father of Francis
+the Signer. This portrait is believed to be by Sir Godfrey Kneller.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Reverend_Dr._Barnard">REV. DR. BARNARD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A Connecticut clergyman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Andrew_Ellicott.">ANDREW ELLICOTT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1754; died, 1820. A Maryland gentleman of wealth and position.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#HerbertWestphalingBishopofHereford">HERBERT WESTPHALING</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bishop of Hereford, Eng.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#The_Herald_Vandum.">HERALD CORNELIUS VANDUM.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1483; died, 1577, aged ninety-four years. Yeoman of the Guard and usher
+to Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary, and Elizabeth. His beard is unique.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Scotch_Beard.">SCOTCH BEARD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Worn by Alexander Ross, 1655.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Dr._William_Slater._Cathedral_Beard.">DR. WILLIAM SLATER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cathedral beard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Dr._John_Dee._1600.">DR. JOHN DEE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in London, 1527; died, 1608. An English mathematician, astrologer,
+physician, author, and magician. He wrote seventy-nine books, mostly on magic.
+His “pique-a-devant” beard might well “a man’s eye out-pike.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Iron_and_Leather_Pattens._1760.">IRON AND LEATHER PATTENS, 1760</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by author.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#OakIronandLeatherClogs1790">OAK, IRON, AND LEATHER CLOGS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In Museum of Bucks County Historical Society, Penn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#English_Clogs.">ENGLISH CLOGS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#ChopinesSeventeenthCentury">CHOPINES</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Drawing from Chopines in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. The tallest chopine had
+a sole about nine inches thick.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#BridesClogsofBrocadeandSoleLeather">WEDDING CLOGS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These clogs are of silk brocade, and were made to match brocade slippers. The
+one with pointed toe would fit the brocaded shoes of the year 1760. The other
+has with it a high-heeled, black satin slipper of the year 1780, to show how
+they were worn. They forced a curious shuffling step.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#ClogsofPennsylvaniaDutch">CLOGS OF PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#ChildrensClogs1730">CHILD’S CLOGS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+About 1780. Owned by Bucks County Historical Society.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#The_Copley_Family_Picture.">COPLEY FAMILY PICTURE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This group, consisting of the artist, John Singleton Copley, his wife, who was
+formerly a young widow, Susannah Farnham; his wife’s father, Richard Clarke, a
+most respected Boston merchant who was wealthy until ruined by the War of the
+Revolution; and the four little Copley children. Elizabeth is between four and
+five; John Singleton, Jr., is the boy of three, who afterwards became Lord
+Lyndhurst; Mary is aged two, and an infant is in the grandfather’s arms. Copley
+was born in 1737, and must have been about thirty-seven when this was painted
+in 1775. It is deemed by many his masterpiece. The portrait is owned by Mr.
+Amory, but is now in the custody of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. It is most
+pronounced, almost startling, in color, every tint being absolutely frank.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Wedding_Slippers_and_Brocade._1712.">WEDDING SLIPPERS AND BROCADE
+STRIP, 1712</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Mrs. Thomas Robinson Harris, of Scarboro on the Hudson, N.Y.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Jack-boots._Owned_by_Lord_Fairfax_of_Virginia.">JACK-BOOTS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Joshua_Warner.">JOSHUA WARNER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A Portsmouth gentleman. This portrait is now in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Shoe_and_Knee_Buckles.">SHOE AND KNEE BUCKLES</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They are shoe-buckles, breeches-buckles, garter-buckles, stock-buckles. Some
+are cut silver and gold; others are cut steel; some are paste. Some of these
+were owned by Dr. Edward Holyoke, of Salem, and are now owned by Miss Susan W.
+Osgood, of Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Wedding_Slippers.">WEDDING SLIPPERS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Worn in 1760 by granddaughter of Governor Simon Bradstreet. Owned by Miss Mary
+S. Cleveland, of Salem, Mass. Their make and finish are curious; they have
+paste buckles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._Abigail_Bromfield_Rogers.">ABIGAIL BROMFIELD ROGERS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Painted by Copley in Europe. Owned by Miss Annette Rogers, of Boston, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#MrsCarrollsSlippers">SLIPPERS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Worn by Mrs. Carroll with the brocade silk sacque. They are embroidered in the
+colors of the brocade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#White_Kid_Slippers._1815.">WHITE KID SLIPPERS, 1810</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by author.
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 35%;" />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Deep-skirted doublets, puritanic capes<br/>
+Which now would render men like upright apes<br/>
+Was comelier wear, our wiser fathers thought<br/>
+Than the cast fashions from all Europe brought”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“New England’s Crisis,” BENJAMIN TOMPSON, 1675.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“I am neither Niggard nor Cynic to the due Bravery of the true
+Gentry.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“The simple Cobbler of Agawam,” J. WARD, 1713.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“Never was it happier in England than when an Englishman was known abroad by
+his own cloth; and contented himself at home with his fine russet carsey hosen,
+and a warm slop; his coat, gown, and cloak of brown, blue or putre, with some
+pretty furnishings of velvet or fur, and a doublet of sad-tawnie or black
+velvet or comely silk, without such cuts and gawrish colours as are worn in
+these dayes by those who think themselves the gayest men when they have most
+diversities of jagges and changes of colours.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Chronicles,” HOLINSHED, 1578.<br/>
+<br/>
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="95" height="92" src="images/initiali.jpg" alt="I" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+t is difficult to discover the reasons, to trace the influences which have
+resulted in the production in the modern mind of that composite figure which
+serves to the everyday reader, the heedless observer, as the counterfeit
+presentment of the New England colonist,—the Boston Puritan or Plymouth
+Pilgrim. We have a very respectable notion, a fairly true picture, of Dutch
+patroon, Pennsylvania Quaker, and Virginia planter; but we see a very unreal
+New Englishman. This “gray old Gospeller, sour as midwinter,” appears with
+goodwife or dame in the hastily drawn illustrations of our daily press; we find
+him outlined with greater care but equal inaccuracy in our choicer periodical
+literature; we have him depicted by artists in our handsome books and on the
+walls of our art museums; he is cut in stone and cast in bronze for our halls
+and parks; he is dressed by actors for a part in some historical play; he is
+furbished up with conglomerate and makeshift garments by enthusiastic and
+confident young folk in tableau and fancy-dress party; he is richly and amply
+attired by portly, self-satisfied members of our patriotic-hereditary
+societies; we constantly see these figures garbed in semblance in some details,
+yet never in verisimilitude as a whole figure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We are wont to think of our Puritan forbears, indeed we are determined to think
+of them, garbed in sombre sad-colored garments, in a life devoid of color,
+warmth, or fragrance. But sad color was not dismal and dull save in name; it
+was brown in tone, and brown is warm, and being a primitive color is, like many
+primitive things, cheerful. Old England was garbed in hearty honest russet,
+even in the days of our colonization. Read the list of the garments of any
+master of the manor, of the honest English yeoman, of our own sturdy English
+emigrants from manor and farm in Suffolk and Essex. What did they wear across
+seas? What did they wear in the New World? What they wore in England, namely:
+Doublets of leathers, all brown in tint; breeches of various tanned skins and
+hides; untanned leather shoes; jerkins of “filomot” or “phillymort” (feuille
+morte), dead-leaf color; buff-coats of fine buff leather; tawny camlet cloaks
+and jackets of “du Boys” (which was wood color); russet hose; horseman’s coats
+of tan-colored linsey-woolsey or homespun ginger-lyne or brown perpetuana;
+fawn-colored mandillions and deer-colored cassocks—all brown; and sometimes a
+hat of natural beaver. Here is a “falding” doublet of “treen color”—and what is
+treen but wooden and wood color is brown again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a fitting dress for their conditions of life. The colonists lived close
+to nature—they touched the beginnings of things; and we are close to nature
+when all dress in russet. The homely “butternuts” of the Kentucky mountains
+express this; so too does khaki, a good, simple native dye and stuff; so
+eagerly welcomed, so closely cherished, as all good and primitive things should
+be.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_John_Endicott"></a>
+<img src="images/020.jpg" width="379" height="453" alt="[Illustration: Governor
+John Endicott]" />
+<p class="caption">Governor John Endicott
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+So when I think of my sturdy Puritan forbears in the summer planting of Salem
+and of Boston, I see them in “honest russet kersey”; gay too with the bright
+stamell-red of their waistcoats and the grain-red linings of mandillions;
+scarlet-capped are they, and enlivened with many a great scarlet-hooded cloak.
+I see them in this attire on shipboard, where they were greeted off Salem with
+“a smell from the shore like the smell of a garden”; I see them landing in
+happy June amid “sweet wild strawberries and fair single roses.” I see them
+walking along the little lanes and half-streets in which for many years
+bayberry and sweet-fern lingered in dusty fragrant clumps by the roadside.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Scented with Cædar and Sweet Fern<br/>
+From Heats reflection dry,”
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+wrote of that welcoming shore one colonist who came on the first ship, and
+noted in rhyme what he found and saw and felt and smelt. And I see the
+forefathers standing under the hot little cedar trees of the Massachusetts
+coast, not sober in sad color, but cheery in russet and scarlet; and sweetbrier
+and strawberries, bayberry and cedar, smell sweetly and glow genially in that
+summer sunlight which shines down on us through all these two centuries.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have ample sources from which to learn precisely what was worn by these
+first colonists—men and women—gentle and simple. We have minute “Lists of
+Apparell” furnished by the Colonization Companies to the male colonists; we
+have also ample lists of apparel supplied to individual emigrants of varied
+degree; we have inventories in detail of the personal estates of all those who
+died in the colonies even in the earliest years—inventories wherein even a
+half-worn pair of gloves is gravely set down, appraised in value, sworn to, and
+entered in the town records; we have wills giving equal minuteness; we have
+even the articles of dress themselves preserved from moth and rust and mildew;
+we have private letters asking that supplies of clothing be sent across
+seas—clothing substantial and clothing fashionable; we have ships’ bills of
+lading showing that these orders were carried out; we have curiously minute
+private letters giving quaint descriptions and hints of new and modish wearing
+apparel; we have sumptuary laws telling what articles of clothing must not be
+worn by those of mean estate; we have court records showing trials under these
+laws; we have ministers’ sermons denouncing excessive details of fashion,
+enumerating and almost describing the offences; and we have also a goodly
+number of portraits of men and a few of women. I give in this chapter excellent
+portraits of the first governors, Endicott, Winthrop, Bradstreet, Winslow; and
+others could be added. Having all these, do we need fashion-plates or magazines
+of the modes? We have also for the early years great instruction through
+comparison and inference in knowing the English fashions of those dates as
+revealed through inventories, compotuses, accounts, diaries, letters,
+portraits, prints, carvings, and effigies; and American fashions varied little
+from English ones.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_Edward_Winslow."></a>
+<img src="images/022.jpg" width="370" height="466" alt="[Illustration: Governor
+Edward Winslow]" />
+<p class="caption">Governor Edward Winslow.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It is impossible to disassociate the history of costume from the general
+history of the country where such dress is worn. Nor could any one write upon
+dress with discrimination and balance unless he knew thoroughly the dress of
+all countries and likewise the history of all countries. Of the special
+country, he must know more than general history, for the relations of small
+things to great things are too close. Influences apparently remote prove vital.
+At no time was history told in dress, and at no period was dress influenced by
+historical events more than during the seventeenth century and in the dress of
+English-speaking folk. The writer on dress should know the temperament and
+character of the dress wearer; this was of special bearing in the seventeenth
+century. It would be thought by any one ignorant of the character of the first
+Puritan settlers, and indifferent to or ignorant of historical facts, that in a
+new world with all the hardships, restraints, lacks, and inconveniences, no
+one, even the vainest woman, would think much upon dress, save that it should
+be warm, comfortable, ample, and durable. But, in truth, such was not the case.
+Even in the first years the settlers paid close attention to their attire, to
+its richness, its elegance, its modishness, and watched narrowly also the
+attire of their neighbors, not only from a distinct liking for dress, but from
+a careful regard of social distinctions and from a regard for the proprieties
+and relations of life. Dress was a badge of rank, of social standing and
+dignity; and class distinctions were just as zealously guarded in America, the
+land of liberty, as in England. The Puritan church preached simplicity of
+dress; but the church attendants never followed that preaching. All believed,
+too, that dress had a moral effect, as it certainly does; that to dress orderly
+and well and convenable to the existing fashions helped to preserve the morals
+of the individual and general welfare of the community. Eagerly did the
+settlers seek every year, every season, by every incoming ship, by every
+traveller, to learn the changes of fashions in Europe. The first native-born
+poet, Benjamin Tompson, is quoted in the heading of this chapter in a wail over
+thus following new fashions, a wail for the “good old times,” as has been the
+cry of “old fogy” poets and philosophers since the days of the ancient
+classics.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have ample proof of the love of dignity, of form, of state, which dominated
+even in the first struggling days; we can see the governor of Virginia when he
+landed, turning out his entire force in most formal attire and with full
+company of forty halberdiers in scarlet cloaks to attend in imposing procession
+the church services in the poor little church edifice—this when the settlement
+at Jamestown was scarce more than an encampment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We can read the words of Winthrop, the governor of Massachusetts, in which he
+recounts his mortification at the undignified condition of affairs when the
+governor of the French province, the courtly La Tour, landed unexpectedly in
+Boston and caught the governor picnicking peacefully with his family on an
+island in the harbor, with no attendants, no soldiers, no dignitaries. Nor was
+there any force in the fort, and therefore no salute could be given to the
+distinguished visitors; and still more mortifying was the sole announcement of
+this important arrival through the hurried sail across the bay, and the running
+to the governor of a badly scared woman neighbor. We see Winthrop trying to
+recover his dignity in La Tour’s eyes (and in his own) by bourgeoning
+throughout the remainder of the French governor’s stay with an imposing guard
+of soldiers in formal attendance at every step he took abroad; ordering them to
+wear, I am sure, their very fullest stuffed doublets and shiniest armor, while
+he displayed his best black velvet suit of garments. Fortunately for New
+England’s appearance, Winthrop was a man of such aristocratic bearing and
+feature that no dress or lack of dress could lower his dignity.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_John_Winthrop."></a>
+<img src="images/026.jpg" alt="Governor John Winthrop." />
+<p class="caption">Governor John Winthrop.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Our forbears did not change their dress by emigrating; they may have worn
+heavier clothing in New England, more furs, stronger shoes, but I cannot find
+that they adopted simpler or less costly clothing; any change that may have
+been made through Puritan belief and teaching had been made in England. All the
+colonists
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“ ... studied after nyce array,<br/>
+And made greet cost in clothing.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many persons preferred to keep their property in the form of what they quaintly
+called “duds.” The fashion did not wear out more apparel than the man; for
+clothing, no matter what its cut, was worn as long as it lasted, doing service
+frequently through three generations. For instance, we find Mrs. Epes, of
+Ipswich, Massachusetts, when she was over fifty years old, receiving this
+bequest by will: “If she desire to have the suit of damask which was the Lady
+Cheynies her grandmother, let her have it upon appraisement.” I have traced a
+certain flowered satin gown and “manto” in four wills; a dame to her daughter;
+she to her sister; then to the child of the last-named who was a granddaughter
+of the first owner. And it was a proud possession to the last. The fashions and
+shapes then did not change yearly. The Boston gentlewoman of 1660 would not
+have been ill dressed or out of the mode in the dress worn by her grandmother
+when she landed in 1625.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Petty details were altered in woman’s dress—though but slightly; the change of
+a cap, a band, a scarf, a ruffle, meant much to the wearer, though it seems
+unimportant to us to-day. Men’s dress, we know from portraits, was unaltered
+for a time save in neckwear and hair-dressing, both being of such importance in
+costume that they must be written upon at length.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us fix in our minds the limit of reign of each ruler during the early years
+of colonization, and the dates of settlement of each colony. When Elizabeth
+died in 1603, the Brownist Puritans or Separatists were well established in
+Holland; they had been there twenty years. They were dissatisfied with their
+Dutch home, however, and had had internal quarrels—one, of petty cause, namely,
+a “topish Hatt,” a “Schowish Hood,” a “garish spitz-fashioned Stomacher,” the
+vain garments of one woman; but the strife over these “abhominations” lasted
+eleven years.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+James I was king when the Pilgrims came to America in 1620; but Charles I was
+on the throne in 1630 when John Winthrop arrived with his band of friends and
+followers and settled in Salem and Boston.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The settlement of Portsmouth and Dover in New Hampshire was in 1623, and in
+Maine the same year. The settlements of the Dutch in New Netherland were in
+1614; while Virginia, named for Elizabeth, the Virgin Queen, and discovered in
+her day, was settled first of all at Jamestown in 1607. The Plymouth colony was
+poor. It came poor from Holland, and grew poorer through various misfortunes
+and set-backs—one being the condition of the land near Plymouth. The
+Massachusetts Bay Company was different. It came with properties estimated to
+be worth a million dollars, and it had prospered wonderfully after an opening
+year of want and distress. The relative social condition and means of the
+settlers of Jamestown, of Plymouth, of Boston, were carefully investigated from
+English sources by a thoughtful and fair authority, the historian Green. He
+says of the Boston settlers in his <i>Short History of the English People</i>:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Those Massachusetts settlers were not like the earlier colonists of the South;
+broken men, adventurers, bankrupts, criminals; or simply poor men and artisans
+like the Pilgrim Fathers of the <i>Mayflower</i>. They were in great part men
+of the professional and middle classes, some of them men of large landed
+estate, some zealous clergymen, some shrewd London lawyers or young scholars
+from Oxford. The bulk were God-fearing farmers from Lincolnshire and the
+Eastern counties.”<br/>
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A full comprehension of these differences in the colonies will make us
+understand certain conditions, certain surprises, as to dress; for instance,
+why so little of the extreme Puritan is found in the dress of the first Boston
+colonists.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There lived in England, near the close of Elizabeth’s reign, a Puritan named
+Philip Stubbes, to whom we are infinitely indebted for our knowledge of English
+dress of his times. It was also the dress of the colonists; for details of
+attire, especially of men’s wear, had not changed to any extent since the years
+in which and of which Philip Stubbes wrote.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He published in 1586 a book called <i>An Anatomie of Abuses</i>, in which he
+described in full the excesses of England in his day. He wrote with spirited,
+vivid pen, and in plain speech, leaving nothing unspoken lest it offend, and he
+used strong, racy English words and sentences. In his later editions he even
+took pains to change certain “strange, inkhorn terms” or complicate words of
+his first writing into simpler ones. Thus he changed <i>preter time</i> to
+<i>former ages; auditory</i> to <i>hearers; prostrated</i> to <i>humbled;
+consummate</i> to <i>ended</i>; and of course this was to the book’s advantage.
+Unusual words still linger, however, but we must believe they are not
+intentionally “outlandish” as was the term of the day for such words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The attitude of Stubbes toward dress and dress wearers is of great interest,
+for he was certainly one of the most severe, most determined, most
+conscientious of Puritans; yet his hatred of “corruptions desiring reformation”
+did not lead him to a hatred of dress in itself. He is careful to state in
+detail in the body of his book and in his preface that his attack is not upon
+the dress of people of wealth and station; that he approves of rich dress for
+the rich. His hatred is for the pretentious dress of the many men of low birth
+or of mean estate who lavish their all in dress ill suited to their station;
+and also his reproof is for swindling in dress materials and dress-making;
+against false weights and measures, adulterations and profits; in short,
+against abuses, not uses.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_Simon_Bradstreet."></a>
+<img src="images/030.jpg" alt="Governor Simon Bradstreet." />
+<p class="caption">Governor Simon Bradstreet.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+His words run thus explicitly:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Whereas I have spoken of the excesse in apparell, and of the Abuse of the same
+as wel in Men as in Women, generally I would not be so understood as though my
+speaches extended to any either noble honorable or worshipful; for I am farre
+from once thinking that any kind of sumptuous or gorgeous Attire is not to be
+worn of them; as I suppose them rather Ornaments in them than otherwise. And
+therefore when I speak of excesse of Apparel my meaning is of the inferiour
+sorte only who for the most parte do farre surpasse either noble honorable or
+worshipful, ruffling in Silks Velvets, Satens, Damaske, Taffeties, Gold Silver
+and what not; these bee the Abuses I speak of, these bee the Evills that I
+lament, and these bee the Persons my wordes doe concern.”<br/>
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+There was ample room for reformation from Stubbes’s point of view.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“There is such a confuse mingle mangle of apparell and such preponderous excess
+thereof, as every one is permitted to flaunt it out in what apparell he has
+himself or can get by anie kind of means. So that it is verie hard to know who
+is noble, who is worshipful, who is a gentleman, who is not; for you shall have
+those who are neither of the nobilytie, gentilitie, nor yeomanrie goe daylie in
+silks velvets satens damasks taffeties notwithstanding they be base by byrth,
+meane by estate and servyle by calling. This a great confusion, a general
+disorder. God bee mercyfull unto us.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This regard of dress was, I take it, the regard of the Puritan reformer in
+general; it was only excess in dress that was hated. This was certainly the
+estimate of the best of the Puritans, and it was certainly the belief of the
+New England Puritan. It would be thought, and was thought by some men, that in
+the New World liberty of religious belief and liberty of dress would be given
+to all. Not at all!—the Puritan magistrates at once set to work to show, by
+means of sumptuary laws, rules of town settlement, and laws as to Sunday
+observance and religious services, that nothing of the kind was expected or
+intended, or would be permitted willingly. No religious sects and denominations
+were welcome save the Puritans and allied forms—Brownists, Presbyterians,
+Congregationalists. For a time none other were permitted to hold services; no
+one could wear rich dress save gentlefolk, and folk of wealth or some
+distinction—as Stubbes said, “by being in some sort of office”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We shall find in the early pages of this book frequent references to Stubbes’s
+descriptions of articles of dress, but his own life has some bearing on his
+utterances; so let me bear testimony as to his character and to the absolute
+truth of his descriptions. He was held up in his own day to contempt by that
+miserable Thomas Nashe who plagiarized his title and helped his own dull book
+into popularity by calling it <i>The Anatomie of Absurdities</i>; and who
+further ran on against him in a still duller book, <i>An Almand for a
+Parrat</i>. He called Stubbes “A MarPrelate Zealot and Hypocrite” and Stubbes
+has been held up by others as a morose man having no family ties and no social
+instincts. He was in reality the tenderest of husbands to a modest, gentle,
+pious girl whom he married when she was but fourteen, and with whom he lived in
+ideal happiness until her death in child-birth when eighteen years old. He bore
+testimony to his happiness and her goodness in a loving but sad and trying book
+“intituled” <i>A Christiall Glasse for Christian Women</i>. It is a record of a
+life which was indeed pure as crystal; a life so retiring, so quiet, so
+composed, so unvarying, a life so remote from any gentlewoman’s life to day
+that it seems of another ether, another planet, as well as of another century.
+But it is useful for us to know it, notwithstanding its background of gloomy
+religionism and its air of unreality; for it helps us to understand the
+character of Puritan women and of Philip Stubbes. This fair young wife died in
+an ecstasy, her voice triumphant, her face radiant with visions of another and
+a glorious life. And yet she was not wholly happy in death; for she had a
+Puritan conscience, and she thought she <i>must</i> have offended God in some
+way. She had to search far indeed for the offence; and this was it—it would be
+absurd if it were not so true and so deep in its sentiment of regret. She and
+her husband had set their hearts too much in affection upon a little dog that
+they had loved well, and she found now that “it was a vanitye”; and she
+repented of it, and bade them bear the dog from her bedside. Knowing Stubbes’s
+love for this little dog (and knowing it must have been a spaniel, for they
+were then being well known and beloved and were called “Spaniel-gentles or
+comforters”—a wonderfully appropriate name), I do not much mind the fierce
+words with which he stigmatizes the vanity and extravagance of women. I have a
+strong belief too that if we knew the dress of his child-wife, we would find
+that he liked her bravely even richly attired, and that he acquired his
+wonderful mastery of every term and detail of women’s dress, every term of
+description, through a very uxorious regard of his wife’s apparel.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Sir_Richard_Saltonstall."></a>
+<img src="images/034.jpg" alt="Sir Richard Saltonstall." />
+<p class="caption">Sir Richard Saltonstall.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Of the absolute truth of every word in Stubbes’s accounts we have ample
+corroborative proof. He wrote in real earnest, in true zeal, for the reform of
+the foolery and extravagance he saw around him, not against imaginary evils.
+There is ample proof in the writings of his contemporaries—in Shakespere’s
+comparisons, in Harrison’s sensible <i>Description of England</i>, in Tom
+Coryat’s <i>Crudities</i>—and oddities—of the existence of this foolishness and
+extravagance. There is likewise ample proof in the sumptuary laws of
+Elizabeth’s day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It would have been the last thing the solemn Stubbes could have liked or have
+imagined, that he should have afforded important help to future writers upon
+costume, yet such is the case. For he described the dress of English men and
+women with as much precision as a modern reporter of the modes. No casual
+survey of dress could have furnished to him the detail of his description. It
+required much examination and inquiry, especially as to the minutiae of women’s
+dress. Therefore when I read his bitter pages (if I can forget the little pet
+spaniel) I have always a comic picture in my mind of a sour, morose, shocked
+old Puritan, “a meer, bitter, narrow-sould Puritan” clad in cloak and doublet,
+with great horn spectacles on nose, and ample note-book, penner, and ink-horn
+in hand, agonizingly though eagerly surveying the figure of one of his
+fashion-clad women neighbors, walking around her slowly, asking as he walked
+the name of this jupe, the price of that pinner, the stuff of this sleeve, the
+cut of this cap, groaning as he wrote it all down, yet never turning to squire
+or knight till every detail of her extravagance and “greet cost” is recorded.
+In spite of all his moralizing his quill pen had too sharp a point, his
+scowling forehead and fierce eyes too keen a power of vision ever to render to
+us a dull page; even the author of <i>Wimples and Crisping Pins</i> might envy
+his powers of perception and description.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The bravery of the Jacobean gallant did not differ in the main from his dress
+under Elizabeth; but in details he found some extravagances. The love-locks
+became more prominent, and shoe-roses and garters both grew in size. Pomanders
+were carried by men and women, and “casting-bottles.” Gloves and pockets were
+perfumed. As musk was the favorite scent this perfume-wearing is not
+over-alluring. As a preventive of the plague all perfumes were valued.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Since a hatred and revolt against this excess was one of the conditions which
+positively led to the formation of the Puritan political party if not of the
+Separatist religious faith, and as a consequence to the settlement of the
+English colonies in America, let us recount the conditions of dress in England
+when America was settled. Let us regard first the dress of a courtier whose
+name is connected closely and warmly in history and romance with the
+colonization of America; a man who was hated by the Pilgrim and Puritan fathers
+but whose dress in some degree and likeness, though modified and simplified,
+must have been worn by the first emigrants to Virginia across seas—let us look
+at the portrait of Sir Walter Raleigh. He was a hero and a scholar, but he was
+also a courtier; and of a court, too, where every court-attendant had to
+bethink himself much and ever of dress, for dress occupied vastly the thought
+and almost wholly the public conversation of his queen and her successor.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Sir_Walter_Raleigh."></a>
+<img src="images/037.jpg" alt="Sir Walter Raleigh." />
+<p class="caption">Sir Walter Raleigh.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+To understand Raleigh’s dress, you must know the man and his life; to
+comprehend its absurdities and forgive its follies and see whence it
+originated, you must know Elizabeth and her dress; you must see her with
+“oblong face, eyes small, yet black; her nose a little hooked, her lips narrow,
+her teeth black; false hair and that red,”—these are the striking and plain
+words of the German ambassador to her court. You must look at this queen with
+her colorless meagre person lost in a dress monstrous in size, yet hung, even
+in its enormous expanse of many square yards, with crowded ornaments, tags,
+jewels, laces, embroideries, gimp, feathers, knobs, knots, and aglets, with
+these bedizened rankly, embellished richly. You must see her talking in public
+of buskins and gowns, love-locks and virginals, anything but matters of
+seriousness or of state; you must note her at a formal ceremonial tickling
+handsome Dudley in the neck; watch her dancing, “most high and disposedly” when
+in great age; you must see her giving Essex a hearty boxing of the ear; hear
+her swearing at her ministers. You must remember, too, her parents, her
+heritage. From King Henry VIII came her love of popularity, her great activity,
+her extraordinary self-confidence, her indomitable will, her outbursts of
+anger, her cruelty, just as came her harsh, mannish voice. From her mother,
+Anne Boleyn, came her sensuous love of pleasure, of dress, of flattery, of
+gayety and laughter. Her nature came from her mother, her temper from her
+father. The familiarity with Robert Dudley was but a piece with her boisterous
+romps in her girlhood, and her flap in the face of young Talbot when he saw her
+“unready in my night-stuff.” But she had more in her than came from Henry and
+Anne; she had her own individuality, which made her as hard as steel, made her
+resolute, made her live frugally and work hard, and, above all, made her know
+her limitations. The woman, be she queen or the plainest mortal, who can
+estimate accurately her own limitations, who is proof against enthusiasm, proof
+against ambition, and, at a climax, proof against flattery, who knows what she
+can <i>not</i> do, in that very thing finds success. Elizabeth was and ever
+will be a wonderful character-study; I never weary of reading or thinking of
+her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The settlement of Massachusetts was under James I; but costume varied little,
+save that it became more cumbersome. This may be attributed directly to the
+cowardice of the king, who wore quilted and padded—dagger-proof—clothing; and
+thus gave to his courtiers an example of stuffing and padding which exceeded
+even that of the men of Elizabeth’s day. “A great, round, abominable breech,”
+did the satirists call it. Stays had to be worn beneath the long-waisted,
+peascod-bellied, stuffed doublet to keep it in shape; thus a man’s attire had
+scarcely a single natural outline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have this description of Raleigh, courtier and “servant” of Elizabeth and
+victim of James, given by a contemporary, Aubrey:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“He looked like a Knave with his gogling eyes. He could transform himself into
+any shape. He was a tall, handsome, bold man; but his naeve was that he was
+damnably proud. A good piece of him is in a white satin doublet all embroidered
+with rich pearls, and a mighty told me that the true pearls were nigh as big as
+the painted ones. He had a most remarkable aspect, an exceeding high forehead,
+long faced, and sour eie-lidded, a kind of pigge-eie.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+We leave the choice of belief between one sentence of this personal
+description, that he was handsome, and the later plain-spoken details to the
+judgment of the reader. Certainly both statements cannot be true. As I look at
+his portrait, the “good piece of him” <a href="#Sir_Walter_Raleigh.">here</a>,
+I wholly disbelieve the former.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Sir_Walter_Raleigh_and_Son."></a>
+<img src="images/040.jpg" alt="Sir Walter Raleigh and Son." />
+<p class="caption">Sir Walter Raleigh and Son.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+His laced-in, stiffened waist, his absurd breeches, his ruffs and sashes and
+knots, his great shoe-roses, his jewelled hatband, make this a fantastic
+picture, one of little dignity, though of vast cost. The jewels on his shoes
+were said to have cost thirty thousand pounds; and the perfect pearls in his
+ear, as seen in another portrait, must have been an inch and a half long. He
+had doublets entirely covered with a pattern of jewels. In another portrait (<a
+href="#Sir_Walter_Raleigh_and_Son.">here</a>) his little son, poor child,
+stands by his side in similar stiff attire. The famous portrait of Sir Philip
+Sidney and his brother is equally comic in its absurdity of costume for young
+lads.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Read these words descriptive of another courtier, of the reign of James; his
+favorite, the Duke of Buckingham:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“With great buttons of diamonds, and with diamond hat bands, cockades and
+ear-rings, yoked with great and manifold knots of pearls. At his going over to
+Paris in 1625 he had twenty-seven suits of clothes made the richest that
+embroidery, gems, lace, silk, velvet, gold and stones could contribute; one of
+which was a white uncut velvet set all over suit and cloak with diamonds valued
+at &pound;14,000 besides a great feather stuck all over with diamonds, as were
+also his sword, girdle, hat-band and spurs.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+These were all courtiers, but we should in general think of an English merchant
+as dressed richly but plainly; yet here is the dress of Marmaduke Rawdon, a
+merchant of that day:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The apparell he rid in, with his chaine of gold and hat band was vallued in a
+thousand Spanish ducats; being two hundred and seventy and five pounds
+sterling. His hatband was of esmeralds set in gold; his suite was of a fine
+cloth trim’d with a small silke and gold fringe; the buttons of his suite fine
+gold—goldsmith’s work; his rapier and dagger richly hatcht with gold.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The white velvet dress of Buckingham showed one of the extreme fashions of the
+day, the wearing of pure white. Horace Walpole had a full-length painting of
+Lord Falkland all in white save his black gloves. Another of Sir Godfrey Hart,
+1600, is all in white save scarlet heels to the shoes. These scarlet heels were
+worn long in every court. Who will ever forget their clatter in the pages of
+Saint Simon, as they ran in frantic haste through hall and corridor—in terror,
+in cupidity, in satisfaction, in zeal to curry favor, in desire to herald the
+news, in hope to obtain office, in every mean and detestable spirit—ran from
+the bedside of the dying king? We can still hear, after two centuries, the
+noisy, heartless tapping of those hurrying red heels.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="ROBERT_DEVEREUX"></a>
+<img src="images/043.jpg" alt="Robert Devereux Earle of Essex His Excellency
+&amp; Generall of y&deg; Army. Pub April 1. 1799 by W Richardson York House
+N&deg; 31 Strand" />
+<p class="caption">Robert Devereux
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Look at the portrait of another courtier, Sir Robert Dudley, who died in 1639;
+not the Robert Dudley who was tickled in the neck by Queen Elizabeth while he
+was being dubbed earl; not the Dudley who murdered Amy Robsart, but his
+disowned son by a noble lady whom he secretly married and dishonored. This son
+was a brave sailor and a learned man. He wrote the <i>Arcana del Mare</i>, and
+he was a sportsman; “the first of all that taught a dog to sit in order to
+catch partridges.” His portrait shows clumsy armor and showy rings, a great
+jewel and a vast tie of gauze ribbon on one arm; on the other a cord with many
+aglets; he wears marvellously embroidered, slashed, and bombasted breeches,
+tight hose, a heavily jewelled, broad belt; and a richly fringed scarf over one
+shoulder, and ridiculous garters at his calf. It is so absurd, so vain a dress
+one cannot wonder that sensible gentlemen turned away in disgust to so-called
+Puritan plainness, even if it went to the extreme of Puritan ugliness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But in truth the eccentrics and extremes of Puritan dress were adopted by
+zealots; the best of that dress only was worn by the best men of the party. All
+Puritans were not like Philip Stubbes, the moralist; nor did all Royalists
+dress like Buckingham, the courtier.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have spoken of the influence of the word “sad-color.” I believe that our
+notion of the gloom of Puritan dress, of the dress certainly of the New England
+colonist, comes to us through it, for the term was certainly much used. A
+Puritan lover in Dorchester, Massachusetts, in 1645, wrote to his lass that he
+had chosen for her a sad-colored gown. Winthrop wrote, “Bring the coarsest
+woolen cloth, so it be not flocks, and of sad colours and some red;” and he
+ordered a “grave gown” for his wife, “not black, but sad-colour.” But while
+sad-colored meant a quiet tint, it did not mean either a dull stone color or a
+dingy grayish brown—nor even a dark brown. We read distinctly in an English
+list of dyes of the year 1638 of these tints in these words, “Sadd-colours the
+following; liver colour, De Boys, tawney, russet, purple, French green,
+ginger-lyne, deere colour, orange colour.” Of these nine tints, five, namely,
+“De Boys,” tawny, russet, ginger-lyne, and deer color, were all browns. Other
+colors in this list of dyes were called “light colours” and “graine colours.”
+Light colors were named plainly as those which are now termed by shopmen
+“evening shades”; that is, pale blue, pink, lemon, sulphur, lavender, pale
+green, ecru, and cream color. Grain colors were shades of scarlet, and were
+worn as much as russet. When dress in sad colors ranged from purple and French
+green through the various tints of brown to orange, it was certainly not a
+<i>dull</i>-colored dress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us see precisely what were the colors of the apparel of the first
+colonists. Let us read the details of russet and scarlet. We find them in
+<i>The Record of the Governor and Company of the Massachusetts Bay in New
+England</i>, one of the incontrovertible sources which are a delight to every
+true historian. These records are in the handwriting of the first secretary,
+Washburn, and contain lists of the articles sent on the ships <i>Talbot,
+George, Lion’s Whelp, Four Sisters</i>, and <i>Mayflower</i> for the use of the
+plantation at Naumkeag (Salem) and later at Boston. They give the amount of
+iron, coal, and bricks sent as ballast; the red lead, sail-cloth, and copper;
+and in 1629, at some month and day previous to 16th of March, give the order
+for the “Apparell for 100 men.” We learn that each colonist had this attire:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“4 Pair Shoes.<br/>
+2 Pair Irish Stockings about 13d. a pair.<br/>
+1 Pair knit Stockings about 2s. 4d. a pair.<br/>
+1 Pair Norwich Garters about 5s. a dozen.<br/>
+4 Shirts.<br/>
+2 Suits of Doublet and Hose; of leather lined with oiled skin leather, the hose
+and doublet with hooks and eyes.<br/>
+1 Suit of Northern Dussens or Hampshire Kerseys lined, the hose with skins, the
+doublet with linen of Guildford or Gedleyman serges, 2s. 10d. a yard, 4-1/2 to
+5 yards a suit.<br/>
+4 Bands.<br/>
+2 Plain falling bands.<br/>
+1 Standing band.<br/>
+1 Waistcoat of green cotton bound about with red tape.<br/>
+1 Leather Girdle.<br/>
+2 Monmouth Cap, about 2s. apiece.<br/>
+1 Black Hat lined at the brim with leather.<br/>
+5 Red knit caps milled; about 5d. apiece.<br/>
+2 Dozen Hooks and eyes and small hooks and eyes for mandillions.<br/>
+1 Pair Calfs Leather gloves (and some odd pairs of knit and sheeps leather
+gloves).<br/>
+A number of Ells Sheer Linen for Handkerchiefs.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+On March 16th was added to this list a mandillion lined with cotton at 12d. a
+yard. Also breeches and waistcoats; a leather suit of doublet and breeches of
+oiled leather; a pair of breeches of leather, “the drawers to serve to wear
+with both their other suits.” There was also full, yes, generous for the day,
+provision of rugs, bedticks, bolsters, mats, blankets, and sheets for the
+berths, and table linen. There were fifty beds; evidently two men occupied each
+bed. Folk, even of wealth and refinement, were not at all sensitive as to their
+mode of sleeping or their bedfellows. The pages of Pepys’s <i>Diary</i> give
+ample examples of this carelessness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arms and armor were also furnished, as will be explained in a later chapter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A private letter written by an engineer, one Master Graves, the following year
+(1630), giving a list of “such needful things as every planter ought to
+provide,” affords a more curt and much less expensive list, though this has
+three full suits, two being of wool stuffs:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“1 Monmouth Cap.<br/>
+3 Falling Bands.<br/>
+3 Shirts.<br/>
+1 Waistcoat.<br/>
+1 Suit Canvass.<br/>
+1 Suit Frieze.<br/>
+1 Suit of Cloth.<br/>
+3 Pair of Stockings.<br/>
+4 Pair of Shoes.<br/>
+Armour complete.<br/>
+Sword &amp;; Belt.”<br/>
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The underclothing in this outfit seems very scanty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I am sure that to some of the emigrants on these ships either outfit afforded
+an ampler wardrobe than they had known theretofore in England, though English
+folk of that day were well dressed. With a little consideration we can see that
+the Massachusetts Bay apparel was adequate for all occasions, but it was far
+different from a man’s dress to-day. The colonist “hadn’t a coat to his back”;
+nor had he a pair of trousers. Some had not even a pair of breeches. It was a
+time when great changes in dress were taking place. The ancient gown had just
+been abandoned for doublet and long hose, which were still in high esteem,
+especially among “the elder sort,” with garters or points for the knees. These
+doublets were both of leather and wool. And there were also doublets to be worn
+by younger men with breeches and stockings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When doublet and hose were worn, the latter were, of course, the long,
+Florentine hose, somewhat like our modern tights.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The jerkin of other lists varied little from the doublet; both were often
+sleeveless, and the cassock in turn was different only in being longer;
+buff-coat and horseman’s coat were slightly changed. The evolution of doublet,
+jerkin, and cassock into a man’s coat is a long enough story for a special
+chapter, and one which took place just while America was being settled. Let me
+explain here that, while the general arrangement of this book is naturally
+chronological, we halt upon our progress at times, to review a certain aspect
+of dress, as, for instance, the riding-dress of women, or the dress of the
+Quakers, or to review the description of certain details of dress in a
+consecutive account. We thus run on ahead of our story sometimes; and other
+times, topics have to be resumed and reviewed near the close of the book.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The breeches worn by the early planters were fulled at the waist and knee,
+after the Dutch fashion, somewhat like our modern knickerbockers or the English
+bag-breeches.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The four pairs of shoes furnished to the colonists were the best. In another
+entry the specifications of their make are given thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Welt Neats Leather shoes crossed on the out-side with a seam. To be
+substantial good over-leather of the best, and two soles; the under sole of
+Neats-leather, the outer sole of tallowed backs.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+They were to be of ample size, some thirteen inches long; each reference to
+them insisted upon good quality.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is plentiful head-gear named in these inventories,—six caps and a hat for
+each man, at a time when Englishmen thought much and deeply upon what they wore
+to cover their heads, and at a time when hats were very costly. I give due
+honor to those hats in an entire chapter, as I do to the ruffs and bands
+supplied in such adequate and dignified numbers. There was an unusually liberal
+supply of shirts, and there were drawers which are believed to have been
+draw-strings for the breeches.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In <i>New England’s First Fruits</i> we read instructions to bring over “good
+Irish stockings, which if they are good are much more serviceable than knit
+ones.” There appears to have been much variety in shape as well as in material.
+John Usher, writing in 1675 to England, says, “your sherrups stockings and your
+turn down stocking are not salable here.” Nevertheless, stirrup stockings and
+socks were advertised in the Boston News Letter as late as January 30, 1731.
+Stirrup-hose are described in 1658 as being very wide at the top—two yards
+wide—and edged with points or eyelet holes by which they were made fast to the
+girdle or bag-breeches. Sometimes they were allowed to bag down over the
+garter. They are said to have been worn on horseback to protect the other
+garments.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stockings at that time were made of cotton and woollen cloth more than they
+were knitted. Calico stockings are found in inventories, and often stockings as
+well as hose with calico linings. In the clothing of William Wright of
+Plymouth, at his death in 1633, were
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“2 Pair Old Knit Stockins.<br/>
+2 Pair Old Yrish Stockins.<br/>
+2 Pair Cloth Stockins.<br/>
+2 Pair Wadmoll Stockins.<br/>
+4 Pair Linnen Stockins,”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+which would indicate that Goodman Wright had stockings for all weathers, or, as
+said a list of that day, “of all denominations.” He had also two pair of
+boot-hose and two pair of boot-briches; evidently he was a seafaring man. I
+must note that he had more ample underclothing than many “plain citizens,”
+having cotton drawers and linen drawers and dimity waistcoats.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That petty details of propriety and dignity of dress were not forgotten; that
+the articles serving to such dignity were furnished to the colonists, and the
+use of these articles was expected of them, is shown by the supply of such
+additions to dress as Norwich garters. Garters had been a decorative and
+elegant ornament to dress, as may be seen by glancing at the portraits of Sir
+Walter Raleigh, Sir Robert Orchard, and the <i>English Antick</i>, in this
+book. And they might well have been decried as offensive luxuries unmeet for
+any Puritan and unnecessary for any colonist; yet here they are. The settlers
+in one of the closely following ships had points for the knee as well as
+garters.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From all this cheerful and ample dress, this might well be a Cavalier
+emigration; in truth, the apparel supplied as an outfit to the Virginia
+planters (who are generally supposed to be far more given over to rich dress)
+is not as full nor as costly as this apparel of Massachusetts Bay. In this as
+in every comparison I make, I find little to indicate any difference between
+Puritan and Cavalier in quantity of garments, in quality, or cost—or, indeed,
+in form. The differences in England were much exaggerated in print; in America
+they often existed wholly in men’s notions of what a Puritan must be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At first the English Puritan reformers made marked alterations in dress; and
+there were also distinct changes in the soldiers of Cromwell’s army, but in
+neither case did rigid reforms prove permanent, nor were they ever as great or
+as sweeping as the changes which came to the Cavalier dress. Many of the
+extremes preached in Elizabeth’s day had disappeared before New England was
+settled; they had been abandoned as unwise or unnecessary; others had been
+adopted by Cavaliers, so that equalized all differences. I find it difficult to
+pick out with accuracy Puritan or Cavalier in any picture of a large gathering.
+Let us glance at the Puritan Roundhead, at Cromwell himself. His picture is
+given <a href="#Cromwell_dissolving_Parliament.">here</a>, cut from a famous
+print of his day, which represents Cromwell dissolving the Long Parliament. He
+and his three friends, all Puritan leaders, are dressed in clothes as
+distinctly Cavalier as the attire of the king himself. The graceful hats with
+sweeping ostrich feathers are precisely like the Cavalier hats still preserved
+in England; like one in the South Kensington Museum. Cromwell’s wide boots and
+his short cape all have a Cavalier aspect.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Cromwell_dissolving_Parliament."></a>
+<img src="images/052.jpg" alt="Cromwell dissolving Parliament. Be gone you
+rogues/You have Sate long enough." />
+<p class="caption">Cromwell dissolving Parliament.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+While Cromwell was steadily working for power, the fashion of plain attire was
+being more talked about than at any other time; so he appeared in studiously
+simple dress—the plainest apparel, indeed, of any man prominent in affairs in
+English history. This is a description of his appearance at a time before his
+name was in all Englishmen’s mouths. It was written by Sir Philip Warwick:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The first time I ever took notice of him (Cromwell) was in the beginning of
+Parliament, November, 1640. I came into the house one morning, well-clad, and
+perceived a gentleman speaking whom I knew not, very ordinary apparelled, for
+it was a plain cloth suit which seemed to have been made by an ill country
+tailor. His linen was plain and not very clean, and I remember a speck or two
+of blood upon his band which was not much larger than his collar; his hat was
+without a hat-band; his stature was of good size; his sword stuck close to his
+side.”<br/>
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Lowell has written of what he terms verbal magic; the power of certain words
+and sentences, apparently simple, and without any recognizable quality, which
+will, nevertheless, fix themselves in our memory, or will picture a scene to us
+which we can never forget. This description of Cromwell has this magic. There
+is no apparent reason why these plain, commonplace words should fix in my mind
+this simple, rough-hewn form; yet I never can think of Cromwell otherwise than
+in this attire, and whatever portrait I see of him, I instinctively look for
+the spot of blood on his band. I know of his rich dress after he was in power;
+of that splendid purple velvet suit in which he lay majestic in death; but they
+never seem to me to be Cromwell—he wears forever an ill-cut, clumsy cloth suit,
+a close sword, and rumpled linen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The noble portraits of Cromwell by the miniaturist, Samuel Cooper, especially
+the one which is at Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, are held to be the truest
+likenesses. They show a narrow band, but the hair curls softly on the
+shoulders. The wonderful portrait of the Puritan General Ireton, in the
+National Portrait Gallery, has beautiful, long hair, and a velvet suit much
+slashed, and with many loops and buttons at the slashes. He wears mustache and
+imperial. We expect we may find that friend of Puritanism, Lucius Carey, Lord
+Falkland, in rich dress; and we find him in the richest of dress; namely, a
+doublet made, as to its body and large full sleeves, wholly of bands an inch or
+two wide of embroidery and gold lace, opening like long slashes from throat to
+waist, and from arm-scye to wrist over fine white lawn, and with extra slashes
+at various spots, with the full white lawn of his “habit-shirt” pulled out in
+pretty puffs. His hair is long and curling. General Waller of Cromwell’s army,
+here shown, is the very figure of a Cavalier, as handsome a face, with as
+flowing hair and careful mustache, as the Duke of Buckingham, or Mr. Endymion
+Porter,—that courtier of courtiers,—gentleman of the bed-chamber to Charles I.
+Cornet Joyce, the sturdy personal custodian of the king in captivity, came the
+closest to being a Roundhead; but even his hair covers his ear and hangs over
+his collar—it would be deemed over-long to-day.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Sir_William_Waller."></a>
+<img src="images/054.jpg" alt="Sir William Waller." />
+<p class="caption">Sir William Waller.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Here is Lord Fairfax in plain buff coat slightly laced and slashed with white
+satin. Fanshawe dressed—so his wife tells us—in “phillamot brocade with 9 Laces
+every one as broad as my hand, a little gold and silver lace between and both
+of curious workmanship.” And his suit was gay with scarlet knots of ribbon; and
+his legs were cased in white silk hose over scarlet ones; and he wore black
+shoes with scarlet shoe strings and scarlet roses and garters; and his gloves
+were trimmed with scarlet ribbon—a fine “gaybeseen”—to use Chaucer’s words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Surprising to all must be the portrait of that Puritan figurehead, the Earl of
+Leicester; for he wears an affected double-peaked beard, a great ruff,
+feathered hat, richly jewelled hatband and collar, and an ear-ring. Shown <a
+href="#ROBERT_DEVEREUX">here</a> is the dress he wore when masquerading in
+Holland as general during the Netherland insurrection against Philip II.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is strange to find even writers of intelligence calling Winthrop and
+Endicott Roundheads. A recent magazine article calls Myles Standish a Roundhead
+captain. That term was not invented till a score of years after Myles Standish
+landed at Plymouth. A political song printed in 1641 is entitled <i>The
+Character of a Roundhead</i>. It begins:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“What creature’s this with his short hairs<br/>
+His little band and huge long ears<br/>
+     That this new faith hath founded?<br/>
+<br/>
+“The Puritans were never such,<br/>
+The saints themselves had ne’er as much.<br/>
+     Oh, such a knave’s a Roundhead.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="TherightHonourableFerdinandLordFairfax"></a>
+<img src="images/056.jpg" alt="The right Honourable Ferdinand Lord Fairfax." />
+<p class="caption">The right Honourable Ferdinand—Lord Fairfax.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson was the wife of a Puritan gentleman, who was colonel in
+Cromwell’s army, and one of the regicide judges. She wrote a history of her
+husband’s life, which is one of the most valuable sources of information of the
+period wherein he lived, the day when Cromwell and Hampden acted, when Laud and
+Strafford suffered. In this history she tells explicitly of the early use of
+the word Roundhead:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The name of Roundhead coming so opportunely, I shall make a little digression
+to show how it came up: When Puritanism grew a faction, the Zealots
+distinguished themselves by several affectations of habit, looks and words,
+which had it been a real forsaking of vanity would have been most commendable.
+Among other affected habits, few of the Puritans, what degree soever they were,
+wore their hair long enough to cover their ears; and the ministers and many
+others cut it close around their heads with so many little peaks—as was
+something ridiculous to behold. From this custom that name of Roundhead became
+the scornful term given to the whole Parliament Party, whose army indeed
+marched out as if they had only been sent out till their hair was grown. Two or
+three years later any stranger that had seen them would have inquired the
+meaning of that name.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+It is a pleasure to point out Colonel Hutchinson as a Puritan, though there was
+little in his dress to indicate the significance of such a name for him, and
+certainly he was not a Roundhead, with his light brown hair “softer than the
+finest silk and curling in great loose rings at the ends—a very fine, thick-set
+head of hair.” He loved dancing, fencing, shooting, and hawking; he was a
+charming musician; he had judgment in painting, sculpture, architecture, and
+the “liberal arts.” He delighted in books and in gardening and in all rarities;
+in fact, he seemed to care for everything that was “lovely and of good report.”
+“He was wonderfully neat, cleanly and genteel in his habit, and had a very good
+fancy in it, but he left off very early the wearing of anything very costly,
+yet in his plainest habit appeared very much a gentleman.” Such dress was the
+<i>best</i> of Puritan dress; just as he was the best type of a Puritan. He was
+cheerful, witty, happy, eager, earnest, vivacious—a bit quick in temper, but
+kind, generous, and good. He was, in truth, what is best of all,—a noble,
+consistent, Christian gentleman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Those who have not acquired from accurate modern portrayal and representation
+their whole notion of the dress of the early colonists have, I find, a figure
+in their mind’s eye something like that of Matthew Hopkins the witch-finder.
+Hogarth’s illustrations of Hudibras give similar Puritans. Others have figures,
+dull and plainly dressed, from the pictures in some book of saints and martyrs
+of the Puritan church, such as were found in many an old New England home.
+<i>My</i> Puritan is reproduced <a
+href="#Alderman_Abell_and_Richard_Kilvert">here</a>. I have found in later
+years that this Alderman Abel of my old print was quite a character in English
+history; having been given with Cousin Kilvert the monopoly of the sale of
+wines at retail, one of those vastly lucrative privileges which brought forth
+the bitterest denunciations from Sir John Eliot, who regarded them as an
+infamous imposition upon the English people. The site of Abel’s house had once
+belonged to Cardinal Wolsey; and it was popularly believed that Abel found and
+used treasure of the cardinal which had been hidden in his cellar. He was
+called the “Main Projector and Patentee for the Raising of Wines.”
+Unfortunately for my theory that Abel was a typical Puritan, he was under the
+protection of King Charles I; and Cromwell’s Parliament put an end to his
+monopoly in 1641, and his dress was simply that of any dull, uninteresting,
+commonplace, and common Englishman of his day.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Alderman_Abell_and_Richard_Kilvert"></a>
+<img src="images/059.jpg" alt="Alderman Abell and Richard Kilvert, the two
+maine Projectors for Wine, 1641." />
+<p class="caption">Mr. Alderman Abell and Richard Kilvert, the two maine
+Projectors for Wine, 1641.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Another New England man who is constantly called a Roundhead is Cotton Mather;
+with equal inconsequence and inaccuracy he is often referred to, and often
+stigmatized, as “the typical Puritan colonist,” a narrow, bigoted Gospeller. I
+have open before me an editorial from a reputable newspaper which speaks of
+Cotton Mather dressed in dingy, skimped, sad-colored garments “shivering in the
+icy air of Plymouth as he uncovered his close-clipped Round-head when he landed
+on the Rock from the <i>Mayflower</i>.” He was in fact born in America; he was
+not a Plymouth man, and did not die till more than a century after the landing
+of the <i>Mayflower</i>, and, of course, he was not a Roundhead. Another
+drawing of Cotton Mather, in a respectable magazine, depicts him with clipped
+hair, emaciated, clad in clumsy garments, mean and haggard in countenance,
+raising a bundle of rods over a cowering Indian child. Now, Cotton Mather was
+distinctly handsome, as may be seen from his picture <a
+href="#Reverend_Cotton_Mather.">here</a>, which displays plainly the full,
+sensual features of the Cotton family, shown in John Cotton’s portrait. And the
+Roundhead is in an elegant, richly curled periwig, such as was fashionable a
+hundred years after the <i>Mayflower</i>. And though he had the tormenting
+Puritan conscience he was not wholly a Puritan, for the world, the flesh, and
+the devil were strong in him. He was much more gentle and tender than men of
+that day were in general; especially with all children, white and Indian, and
+was most conscientious in his relations both to Indians and negroes. And in
+those days of universal whippings by English and American schoolmasters and
+parents, he spoke in no uncertain voice his horror and disapproval of the rod
+for children, and never countenanced or permitted any whippings.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Reverend_John_Cotton."></a>
+<img src="images/060.jpg" alt="Reverend John Cotton." />
+<p class="caption">Reverend John Cotton.
+</p></div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+<a name="Reverend_Cotton_Mather."></a>
+<img src="images/061.jpg" alt="Reverend Cotton Mather." />
+<p class="caption">Reverend Cotton Mather.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+There was certainly great diversity in dress among those who called themselves
+Puritans. Some amusing stories are told of that strange, restless, brilliant
+creature, the major-general of Cromwell’s army,—Harrison. When the
+first-accredited ambassador sent by any great nation to the new republic came
+to London, there was naturally some stir as to the wisdom of certain details of
+demeanor and dress. It was a ticklish time. The new Commonwealth must command
+due honor, and the day before the audience a group of Parliament gentlemen,
+among them Colonel Hutchinson and one who was afterwards the Earl of Warwick,
+were seated together when Harrison came in and spoke of the coming audience,
+and admonished them all—and Hutchinson in particular, “who was in a habit
+pretty rich but grave and none other than he usually wore”—that, now nations
+sent to them, they must “shine in wisdom and piety, not in gold and silver and
+worldly bravery which did not become saints.” And he asked them not to appear
+before the ambassador in “gorgeous habits.” So the colonel—though he was not
+“convinced of any misbecoming bravery in a suit of sad-coloured cloth trimmed
+with gold and with silver points and buttons”—still conformed to his comrade’s
+opinion, and appeared as did all the other gentlemen in solemn, handsome black.
+When who should come in, “all in red and gold-a,”—in scarlet coat and cloak
+laden with gold and silver, “the coat so covered with clinquant one could
+scarcely discern the ground,” and in this gorgeous and glittering habit seat
+himself alone just under the speaker’s chair and receive the specially low
+respects and salutes of all in the ambassador’s train,—who should thus blazon
+and brazon and bourgeon forth but Harrison! I presume, though Hutchinson was a
+Puritan and a saint, he was a bit chagrined at his black suit of garments, and
+a bit angered at being thus decoyed; and it touched Madam Hutchinson deeply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Hutchinson had his turn to wear gay clothes. A great funeral was to be
+given to Ireton, who was his distant kinsman; yet Cromwell, from jealousy, sent
+no bidding or mourning suit to him. A general invitation and notice was given
+to the whole assembly, and on the hour of the funeral, within the great, gloomy
+state-chamber, hung in funereal black, and filled with men in trappings of woe,
+covered with great black cloaks with long, weeping hatbands drooping to the
+ground, in strode Hutchinson; this time he was in scarlet and cliquante, “such
+as he usually wore,”—so wrote his wife,—astonishing the eyes of all, especially
+the diplomats and ambassadors who were present, who probably deemed him of so
+great station as to be exempt from wearing black. The master of ceremonies
+timidly regretted to him, in hesitating words, that no mourning had been
+sent—it had been in some way overlooked; the General could not, thus unsuitably
+dressed, follow the coffin in the funeral procession—it would not look well;
+the master of ceremonies would be rebuked—all which proved he did not know
+Hutchinson, for follow he could, and would, and did, in this rich dress. And he
+walked through the streets and stood in the Abbey, with his scarlet cloak
+flaunting and fluttering like a gay tropical bird in the midst of a slowly
+flying, sagging flock of depressed black crows,—you have seen their dragging,
+heavy flight,—and was looked upon with admiration and love by the people as a
+splendid and soldierly figure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We must not forget that the years which saw the settlement of Salem and Boston
+were not under the riot of dress countenanced by James. Charles I was then on
+the throne; and the rich and beautiful dress worn by that king had already
+taken shape.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There has been an endeavor made to attribute this dress to the stimulus, to the
+influence, of Puritan feeling. Possibly some of the reaction against the
+absurdities of Elizabeth and James may have helped in the establishment of this
+costume; but I think the excellent taste of Charles and especially of his
+queen, Henrietta Maria, who succeeded in making women’s dress wholly beautiful,
+may be thanked largely for it. And we may be grateful to the painter Van Dyck;
+for he had not only great taste as to dress, and genius in presenting his taste
+to the public, but he had a singular appreciation of the pictorial quality of
+dress and a power of making dress appropriate to the wearer. And he fully
+understood its value in indicating character.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Since Van Dyck formed and painted these fine and elegant modes, they are known
+by his name,—it is the Van Dyck costume. We have ample exposition of it, for
+his portraits are many. It is told that he painted forty portraits of the king
+and thirty of the queen, and many of the royal children. There are nine
+portraits by his hand of the Earl of Strafford, the king’s friend. He painted
+the Earl of Arundel seven times. Venetia, Lady Digby, had four portraits in one
+year. He painted all persons of fashion, many of distinction and dignity, and
+some with no special reason for consideration or portrayal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Van Dyck dress is a gallant dress, one fitted for a court, not for everyday
+life, nor for a strenuous life, though men of such aims wore it. The absurdity
+of Elizabeth’s day is lacking; the richness remains. It is a dress distinctly
+expressive of dignity. The doublet is of some rich, silken stuff, usually satin
+or velvet. The sleeves are loose and graceful; at one time they were slashed
+liberally to show the fine, full, linen shirt-sleeve. Here are a number of
+slashed sleeves, from portraits of the day, painted by Van Dyck. The cuffs of
+the doublet are often turned back deeply to show embroidered shirt cuffs or
+lace ruffles, or even linen undersleeves. The collar of the doublet was wholly
+covered with a band or collar of rich lace and lawn, or all lace; this usually
+with the pointed edges now termed Vandykes. Band strings of ribbon or
+“snake-bone” were worn. These often had jewelled tassels. Rich tassels of pearl
+were the favorite. A short cloak was thrown gracefully on one shoulder or hung
+at the back. Knee-breeches edged with points or fringes or ribbons met the tops
+of wide, high boots of Spanish leather, which often also turned over with
+ruffles of leather or lace. Within-doors silken hose and shoes with rich
+shoe-roses of lace or ribbon were worn. A great hat, broad-leafed, often of
+Flemish beaver, had a splendid feather and jewelled hatband. A rich sword-belt
+and gauntleted and fringed gloves were added. A peaked beard with small
+upturned mustache formed a triangle, with the mouth in the centre, as in the
+portrait of General Waller. The hair curled loosely in the neck, and was
+rarely, I think, powdered.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="SlashedSleevestempCharlesI"></a>
+<img src="images/066.jpg" alt="Slashed Sleeves" />
+<p class="caption">Slashed Sleeves, <i>temp</i>. Charles I.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Other great painters besides Van Dyck were fortunately in England at the time
+this dress was worn, and the king was a patron and appreciator of art. Hence
+they were encouraged in their work; and every form and detail of this beautiful
+costume is fully depicted for us.
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 35%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Nowe my deare hearte let me parlye a little with thee about trifles, for
+when I am present with thee, my speeche is preiudiced by thy presence which
+drawes my mind from itselfe; I suppose now, upon thy unkles cominge there wilbe
+advisinge &amp;; counsellinge of all hands; and amongst many I know there wilbe
+some, that wilbe provokinge thee, in these indifferent things, as matter of
+apparell, fashions and other circumstances; I hould it a rule of Christian
+wisdome in all things to follow the soberest examples; I confesse that there be
+some ornaments which for Virgins and Knights Daughters &amp;;c may be comly and
+tollerrable which yet in soe great a change as thine is, may well admitt a
+change allso; I will medle with noe particulars neither doe I thinke it shall
+be needfull; thine own wisdome and godliness shall teach thee sufficiently what
+to doe in such things. I knowe thou wilt not grieve me for trifles. Let me
+intreate thee (my sweet Love) to take all in good part.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—JOHN WINTHROP TO MARGARET TYNDALE, 1616.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="95" height="92" src="images/initiali.jpg" alt="I" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+have expressed a doubt that the dress of Cavalier and Puritan varied as much as
+has been popularly believed; I feel sure that the dress of Puritan women did
+not differ from the attire of women of quiet life who remained in the Church of
+England; nor did it vary materially either in form or quality from the attire
+of the sensible followers of court life. It simply did not extend to the
+extreme of the mode in gay color, extravagance, or grotesqueness. In the first
+severity of revolt over the dissoluteness of English life which had shown so
+plainly in the extravagance and absurdity of English court dress, many persons
+of deep thought (especially men), both of the Church of England and of the
+Puritan faith, expressed their feeling by a change in their dress. Doubtless
+also in some the extremity of feeling extended to fanaticism. It is always thus
+in reforms; the slow start becomes suddenly a violent rush which needs to be
+retarded and moderated, and it always is moderated. I have referred to one
+exhibition of bigotry in regard to dress which is found in the annals of
+Puritanism; it is detailed in the censure and attempt at restraint of the dress
+of Madam Johnson, the wife of the Rev. Francis Johnson, the pastor of the
+exiles to Holland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is a tradition that Parson Johnson was one of the Marprelate brotherhood,
+who certainly deserved the imprisonment they received, were it only for their
+ill-spelling and ill-use of their native tongue. The Marprelate pamphlet before
+me as I write had an author who could not even spell the titles of the prelates
+it assailed; but called them “parsones, fyckers and currats,” the latter two
+names being intended for vicars and curates. The story of Madam Johnson’s
+revolt, and her triumph, is preserved to us in such real and earnest language,
+and was such a vital thing to the actors in the little play, that it seems
+almost irreverent to regard it as a farce, yet none to-day could read of it
+without a sense of absurdity, and we may as well laugh frankly and freely at
+the episode.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the protagonist of this Puritan comedy entered the stage, she was a
+widow—Tomison or Thomasine Boyes, a “warm” widow, as the saying of the day ran,
+that is, warm with a comfortable legacy of ready money. She was a young widow,
+and she was handsome. At any rate, it was brought up against her when events
+came to a climax; it was testified in the church examination or trial that “men
+called her a bouncing girl,” as if she could help that! Husband Boyes had been
+a haberdasher, and I fancy she got both her finery and her love of finery in
+his shop. And it was told with all the petty terms of scandal-mongering that
+might be heard in a small shop in a small English town to-day; it was told very
+gravely that the “clarkes in the shop” compared her for her pride in apparel to
+the wife of the Bishop of London, and it was affirmed that she stood “gazing,
+braving, and vaunting in shop doores.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now this special complaint against the Widow Boyes, that she stood braving and
+vaunting in shop doors, was not a far-fetched attack brought as a novelty of
+tantalizing annoyance; it touches in her what was one of the light carriages of
+the day, which were so detestable to sober and thoughtful folk, an odious
+custom specified by Stubbes in his <i>Anatomy of Abuses</i>. He writes thus of
+London women, the wives of merchants:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Othersome spend the greater part of the daie in sittyng at the doore, to shewe
+their braveries, to make knowen their beauties, to behold the passers by; to
+view the coast, to see fashions, and to acquaint themselves of the bravest
+fellows—for, if not for these causes, I know no other causes why they should
+sitt at their doores—as many doe from Morning till Noon, from Noon till Night.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Other writers give other reasons for this “vaunting.” We learn that “merchants’
+wives had seats built a purpose” to sit in, in order to lure customers. Marston
+in <i>The Dutch Courtesan</i> says:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“His wife’s a proper woman—that she is! She has been as proper a woman as any
+in the Chepe. She paints now, and yet she keeps her husband’s old customers to
+him still. In troth, a fine-fac’d wife in a wainscot-carved seat, is a worthy
+ornament to any tradesman’s shop. And an attractive one I’le warrant.”<br/>
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This handsome, buxom, bouncing widow fell in love with Pastor Johnson, and he
+with her, while he was “a prisoner in the Clink,” he having been thrown therein
+by the Archbishop of Canterbury for his persistent preaching of Puritanism.
+Many of his friends “thought this not a good match” for him at any time; and
+all deemed it ill advised for a man in prison to pledge himself in matrimony to
+any one. And soon zealous and meddlesome Brother George Johnson took a hand in
+advice and counsel, with as high a hand as if Francis had been a child instead
+of a man of thirty-two, and a man of experience as well, and likewise older
+than George.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+George at first opened warily, saying in his letters that “he was very loth to
+contrary his brother;” still Brother Francis must be sensible that this widow
+was noted for her pride and vanity, her light and garish dress, and that it
+would give great offence to all Puritans if he married her, and “it (the vanity
+and extravagance, etc.) should not be refrained.” There was then some apparent
+concession and yielding on the widow’s part, for George for a time “sett down
+satysfyed”; when suddenly, to his “great grief” and discomfiture, he found that
+his brother had been “inveigled and overcarried,” and the sly twain had been
+married secretly in prison.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It must be remembered that this was in the last years of Elizabeth’s reign, in
+1596, when the laws were rigid in attempts at limitation of dress, as I shall
+note later in this chapter. But there were certain privileges of large estate,
+even if the owner were of mean birth; and Madam Johnson certainly had money
+enough to warrant her costly apparel, and in ready cash also, from Husband
+Boyes. But in the first good temper and general good will of the honeymoon she
+“obeyed”; she promised to dress as became her husband’s condition, which would
+naturally mean much simpler attire. He was soon in very bad case for having
+married without permission of the archbishop, and was still more closely
+confined within-walls; but even while he lingered in prison, Brother George saw
+with anguish that the bride’s short obedience had ended. She appeared in “more
+garish and proud apparell” than he had ever before seen upon the
+widow,—naturally enough for a bride,—even the bride of a bridegroom in prison;
+but he “dealt with her that she would refrain”—poor, simple man! She dallied
+on, tantalizing him and daring him, and she was very “bold in inviting proof,”
+but never quitting her bridal finery for one moment; so George read to her with
+emphasis, as a final and unconquerable weapon, that favorite wail of all men
+who would check or reprove an extravagant woman, namely, Isaiah iii, 16 <i>et
+seq</i>., the chapter called by Mercy Warren
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“... An antiquated page<br/>
+That taught us the threatenings of an Hebrew sage<br/>
+Gainst wimples, mantles, curls and crisping pins.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I wonder how many Puritan parsons have preached fatuously upon those verses!
+how many defiant women have had them read to them—and how many meek ones! I
+knew a deacon’s wife in Worcester, some years ago, who asked for a new pair of
+India-rubber overshoes, and in pious response her frugal partner slapped open
+the great Bible at this favorite third chapter of the lamenting and threatening
+prophet, and roared out to his poor little wife, sitting meekly before him in
+calico gown and checked apron, the lesson of the haughty daughters of Zion
+walking with stretched-forth necks and tinkling feet; of their chains and
+bracelets and mufflers; their bonnets and rings and rich jewels; their mantles
+and wimples and crisping-pins; their fair hoods and veils—oh, how she must have
+longed for an Oriental husband!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Petulant with his new sister-in-law’s successful evasions of his readings, his
+letters, and his advice, his instructions, his pleadings, his commands, and
+“full of sauce and zeal” like Elnathan, George Johnson, in emulation of the
+prophet Isaiah, made a list of the offences of this London “daughter of Zion,”
+wrote them out, and presented them to the congregation. She wore “3, 4, or even
+5 gold rings at one time” Then likewise “her Busks and ye Whalebones at her
+Brest were soe manifest that many of ye Saints were greeved thereby.” She was
+asked to “pull off her Excessive Deal of Lace.” And she was fairly implored to
+“exchange ye Schowish Hatt for a sober Taffety or Felt.” She was ordered
+severely “to discontinue Whalebones,” and to “quit ye great starcht Ruffs, ye
+Muske, and ye Rings.” And not to wear her bodice tied to her petticoat “as men
+do their doublets to their hose contrary to I Thessalonians, V, 22.” And a
+certain stomacher or neckerchief he plainly called “abominable and loathsome.”
+A “schowish Velvet Hood,” such as only “the richest, finest and proudest sort
+should use,” was likewise beyond endurance, almost beyond forgiveness, and
+other “gawrish gear gave him grave greevance.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._William_Clark."></a>
+<img src="images/075.jpg" alt="Mrs. William Clark." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. William Clark.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+But here the young husband interfered, as it was high time he should; and he
+called his brother “fantasticall, fond, ignorant, anabaptisticall and such
+like,” though what the poor Anabaptists had to do with such dress quarrels I
+know not. George’s cautious reference in his letter to the third verse of the
+third chapter of Jeremiah made the parson call it “the Abhominablest Letter
+ever was written.” George, a bit frightened, answered pacificatorily that he
+noted of late that “the excessive lace upon the sleeve of her dress had a Cover
+drawn upon it;” that the stomacher was not “so gawrish, so low, and so
+spitz-fashioned as it was wont to be”; nor was her hat “so topishly set,”—and
+he expressed pious gladness at the happy change, “hoping more would
+follow,”—and for a time all did seem subdued. But soon another meddlesome young
+man became “greeved” (did ever any one hear of such a set of silly, grieving
+fellows?); and seeing “how heavily the young gentleman took it,” stupid George
+must interfere again, to be met this time very boldly by the bouncing girl
+herself, who, he writes sadly, answered him in a tone “very peert and coppet.”
+“Coppet” is a delightful old word which all our dictionaries have missed; it
+signifies impudent, saucy, or, to be precise, “sassy,” which we all know has a
+shade more of meaning. “Peert and coppet” is a delightful characterization.
+George refused to give the sad young complainer’s name, who must have been well
+ashamed of himself by this time, and was then reproached with being a
+“forestaller,” a “picker,” and a “quarrelous meddler”—and with truth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During the action of this farce, all had gone from London into exile in
+Holland. Then came the sudden trip to Newfoundland and the disastrous and
+speedy return to Holland again. And through the misfortunes and the exiles, the
+company drew more closely together, and gentle words prevailed; George was
+“sorie if he had overcarried himself”; Madam “was sure if it were to do now,
+she would not so wear it.” Still, she did not offer her martinet of a
+brother-in-law a room to lodge in in her house, though she had many rooms
+unused, and he needed shelter, whereat he whimpered much; and soon he was
+charging her again “with Muske as a sin” (musk was at that time in the very
+height of fashion in France) and cavilling at her unbearable “topish hat.” Then
+came long argument and sparring for months over “topishness,” which seems to
+have been deemed a most offensive term. They told its nature and being; they
+brought in Greek derivatives, and the pastor produced a syllogism upon the
+word. And they declared that the hat in itself was not topish, but only became
+so when she wore it, she being the wife of a preacher; and they disputed over
+velvet and vanity; they bickered over topishness and lightness; they wrangled
+about lawn coives and busks in a way that was sad to read. The pastor argued
+soundly, logically, that both coives and busks might be lawfully used; whereat
+one of his flock, Christopher Dickens, rose up promptly in dire fright and
+dread of future extravagance among the women-saints in the line of topish hats
+and coives and busks, and he “begged them not to speak so, and <i>so loud</i>,
+lest it should bring <i>many inconveniences among their wives</i>.” Finally the
+topish head-gear was demanded in court, which the parson declared was
+“offensive”; and so they bickered on till a most unseemly hour, till <i>ten
+o’clock at night</i>, as “was proved by the watchman and rattleman coming
+about.” Naturally they wished to go to bed at an early hour, for religious
+services began at nine; one of the complaints against the topish bride was that
+she was a “slug-a-bed,” flippantly refused to rise and have her house ordered
+and ready for the nine o’clock public service. The meetings were then held in
+the parson’s house, and held every day; which may have been one reason why the
+settlement grew poorer. It matters little what was said, or how it ended, since
+it did not disrupt and disband the Holland Pilgrims. For eleven years this
+stupid wrangling lasted; and it seemed imminent that the settlement would
+finish with a separation, and a return of many to England. Slight events have
+great power—this topish hat of a vain and pretty, a peert and coppet young
+Puritan bride came near to hindering and changing the colonization of America.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Lady_Mary_Armine."></a>
+<img src="images/078.jpg" alt="Lady Mary Armine." />
+<p class="caption">Lady Mary Armine.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+I have related this episode at some length because its recounting makes us
+enter into the spirit of the first Separatist settlers. It shows us too that
+dress conquered zeal; it could not be “forborne” by entreaty, by reproof, by
+discipline, by threats, by example. An influence, or perhaps I should term it
+an echo, of this long quarrel is seen plainly by the thoughtful mind in the
+sumptuary laws of the New World. Some of the articles of dress so dreaded, so
+discussed in Holland, still threatened the peace of Puritanical husbands in New
+England; they still dreaded many inconveniences. In 1634, the general court of
+Massachusetts issued this edict:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“That no person, man or woman, shall hereafter make or buy any Apparell, either
+Woolen, or Silk, or Linen, with any Lace on it, Silver, Gold, or Thread, under
+the penalty of forfeiture of said clothes. Also that no person either man or
+woman, shall make or buy any Slashed Clothes, other than one Slash in each
+Sleeve and another in the Back. Also all Cut-works, embroideries, or Needlework
+Caps, Bands or Rails, are forbidden hereafter to be made and worn under the
+aforesaid Penalty; also all gold or silver Girdles Hat bands, Belts, Ruffs,
+Beaver hats are prohibited to be bought and worn hereafter.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Fines were stated, also the amount of estate which released the dress-wearer
+from restriction. Liberty was given to all to wear out the apparel which they
+had on hand except “immoderate great sleeves, slashed apparell, immoderate
+great rails, and long wings”—these being beyond endurance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1639 “immoderate great breeches, knots of riban, broad shoulder bands and
+rayles, silk roses, double ruffles and capes” were forbidden to folk of low
+estate. Soon the court expressed its “utter detestation and dislike,” that men
+and women of “mean condition, education and calling” should take upon
+themselves “the garb of gentlemen” by wearing gold and silver lace, buttons and
+points at the knee, or “walk in great boots,” or women of the same low rank to
+wear silk or tiffany hoods or scarfs. There were likewise orders that no short
+sleeves should be worn “whereby the nakedness of the arms may be discovered”;
+women’s sleeves were not to be more than half an ell wide; long hair and
+immodest laying out of the hair and wearing borders of hair were abhorrent.
+Poor folk must not appear with “naked breasts and arms; or as it were pinioned
+with superstitious ribbons on hair and apparell.” Tailors who made garments for
+servants or children, richer than the garments of the parents or masters of
+these juniors, were to be fined. Similar laws were passed in Connecticut and
+Virginia. I know of no one being “psented” under these laws in Virginia, but in
+Connecticut and Massachusetts both men and women were fined. In 1676, in
+Northampton, thirty-six young women at one time were brought up for overdress
+chiefly in hoods; and an amusing entry in the court record is that one of them,
+Hannah Lyman, appeared in the very hood for which she was fined; and was
+thereupon censured for “wearing silk in a fflonting manner, in an offensive
+way, not only before but when she stood Psented. Not only in Ordinary but
+Extraordinary times.” These girls were all fined; but six years later, when a
+stern magistrate attempted a similar persecution, the indictments were quashed.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="The_Tub-preacher."></a>
+<img src="images/081.jpg" alt="The Tub-preacher." />
+<p class="caption">The Tub-preacher.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It is not unusual to find the careless observer or the superficial reader—and
+writer—commenting upon the sumptuary laws of the New World as if they were
+extraordinary and peculiar. There appeared in a recent American magazine a long
+rehearsal of the unheard-of presumption of Puritan magistrates in their
+prohibition of certain articles of dress. This writer was evidently wholly
+ignorant of the existence of similar laws in England, and even of like laws in
+Virginia, but railed against Winthrop and Endicott as monsters of Puritanical
+arrogance and impudence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In truth, however, such laws had existed not only in France and England, but
+since the days of the old Locrian legislation, when it was ordered that no
+woman should go attended with more than one maid in the street “unless she were
+drunk.” Ancient Rome and Sparta were surrounded by dress restrictions which
+were broken just as were similar ones in more modern times. The Roman could
+wear a robe but of a single color; he could wear in embroideries not more than
+half an ounce of gold; and, with what seems churlishness he was forbidden to
+ride in a carriage. At that time, just as in later days, dress was made to
+emphasize class distinction, and the clergy joined with the magistrates in
+denouncing extravagant dress in both men and women. The chronicles of the monks
+are ever chiding men for their peaked shoes, deep sleeves and curled locks like
+women, and Savonarola outdid them all in severity. The English kings and
+queens, jealous of the rich dress of their opulent subjects, multiplied
+restrictions, and some very curious anecdotes exist of the calm assumption by
+both Elizabeth and Mary to their own wardrobe of the rich finery of some lady
+at the court who displayed some new and too becoming fancy.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Old_Venice_Point_Lace."></a>
+<img src="images/083.jpg" alt="Old Venice Point Lace." />
+<p class="caption">Old Venice Point Lace.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Adam Smith declared it “an act of highest impertinence and presumption for
+kings and rulers to pretend to watch over the earnings and expenditure of
+private persons,” nevertheless this public interference lingered long,
+especially under monarchies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These sumptuary laws of New England followed in spirit and letter similar laws
+in England. Winthrop had seen the many apprentices who ran through London
+streets, dressed under laws as full of details of dress as is a modern journal
+of the modes. For instance, the apprentice’s head-covering must be a small,
+flat, round cap, called often a bonnet—a hat like a pie-dish. The facing of the
+hat could not exceed three inches in breadth in the head; nor could the hat
+with band and facing cost over five shillings. His band or collar could have no
+lace edge; it must be of linen not over five shillings an ell in price; and
+could have no other work or ornament save “a plain hem and one stitch”—which
+was a hemstitch. If he wore a ruff, it must not be over three inches wide
+before it was gathered and set into the “stock.” The collar of his doublet
+could have neither “point, well-bone or plait,” but must be made “close and
+comely.” The stuff of his doublet and breeches could not cost over two
+shillings and sixpence a yard. It could be either cloth, kersey, fustian,
+sackcloth, canvas, or “English stuff”; or leather could be used. The breeches
+were generally of the shape known as “round slops.” His stockings could be knit
+or of cloth; but his shoes could have no polonia heels. His hair was to be cut
+close, with no “tuft or lock.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Queen Elizabeth stood no nonsense in these things; finding that London
+’prentices had adopted a certain white stitching for their collars, she put a
+stop to this mild finery by ordering the first transgressor to be whipped
+publicly in the hall of his company. These same laws, tinkered and altered to
+suit occasions, appear for many years in English records, for years after New
+England’s sumptuary laws were silenced.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Notwithstanding Hannah Lyman and the thirty-six vain Northampton girls, we do
+not on the whole hear great complaint of extravagance in dress or deportment.
+At any rate none were called bouncing girls. The portraits of men or women
+certainly show no restraint as to richness in dress. Their sumptuary laws were
+of less use to their day than to ours, for they do reveal to us what articles
+of dress our forbears wore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While the Massachusetts magistrates were fussing a little over woman’s dress,
+the parsons, as a whole, were remarkably silent. Of course two or three of them
+could not refrain from announcing a text from Isaiah iii, 16 <i>et seq</i>.,
+and enlarging upon the well-worn wimples and nose jewels, and bells on their
+feet, which were as much out of fashion in Massachusetts then as now. It is
+such a well-rounded, ringing, colorful arraignment of woman’s follies you
+couldn’t expect a parson to give it up. Every evil predicted of the prophet was
+laid at the door of these demure Puritan dames,—fire and war, and caterpillars,
+and even baldness, which last was really unjust. Solomon Stoddard preached on
+the “Intolerable Pride in the Plantations in Clothes and Hair,” that his
+parishioners “drew iniquity with a cord of vanity and sin with a cart-rope.”
+The apostle Paul also furnished ample texts for the Puritan preacher.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Rebecca_Rawson."></a>
+<img src="images/086.jpg" alt="Rebecca Rawson." />
+<p class="caption">Rebecca Rawson.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the eleventh chapter of Corinthians wise Paul delivered some sentences of
+exhortation, of reproof, of warning to Corinthian women which I presume he
+understood and perhaps Corinthian dames did, but which have been a dire puzzle
+since to parsons and male members of their congregations. (I cannot think that
+women ever bothered much about his words.) For instance, Archbishop Latimer, in
+one of the cheerful, slangy rallies to his hearers which he called sermons,
+quotes Paul’s sentence that a woman ought to have a power on her head, and
+construes positively that a power is a French hood. This is certainly a
+somewhat surprising notion, but I presume he knew. However, Roger Williams
+deemed a power a veil; and being somewhat dictatorial in his words, albeit the
+tenderest of creatures in his heart, he bade Salem women come to meeting in a
+veil, telling them they should come like Sarah of old, wearing this veil as a
+token of submission to their husbands. The text saith this exactly, “A woman
+ought to have power on her head because of the angels,” which seems to me one
+of those convenient sayings of Paul and others which can be twisted to many, to
+any meanings, even to Latimer’s French hood. Old John Cotton, of course, found
+ample Scripture to prove Salem women should not wear veils, and so here in this
+New World, as in the Holland sojourn, the head-covering of the mothers rent in
+twain the meetings of the fathers, while the women wore veils or no veils,
+French hoods or beaver hats, in despite of Paul’s opinions and their husbands’
+constructions of his opinions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An excellent description of the Puritan women of a dissenting congregation is
+in <i>Hudibras Redivivus;</i> it reads:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“The good old dames among the rest<br/>
+Were all most primitively drest<br/>
+In stiffen-bodyed russet gowns<br/>
+And on their heads old steeple crowns<br/>
+With pristine pinners next their faces<br/>
+Edged round with ancient scallop-laces,<br/>
+Such as, my antiquary says,<br/>
+Were worn in old Queen Bess’s days,<br/>
+In ruffs; and fifty other ways<br/>
+Their wrinkled necks were covered o’er<br/>
+With whisks of lawn by granmarms wore.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The “old steeple crowns” over “pristine pinners” were not peculiar to the
+Puritans. There was a time, in the first years of the seventeenth century, when
+many Englishwomen wore steeple-crowned hats with costly hatbands. We find them
+in pictures of women of the court, as well as upon the heads of Puritans. I
+have a dozen prints and portraits of Englishwomen in rich dress with these
+hats. The Quaker Tub-preacher, shown <a href="#The_Tub-preacher.">here</a>,
+wears one. Perhaps the best known example to Americans may be seen in the
+portrait of Pocahontas <a href="#Pocahontas.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Authentic portraits of American women who came in the <i>Mayflower</i> or in
+the first ships to the Massachusetts Bay settlement, there are none to my
+knowledge. Some exist which are doubtless of that day, but cannot be certified.
+One preserved in Connecticut in the family of Governor Eaton shows a brown old
+canvas like a Rembrandt. The subject is believed to be of the Yale family, and
+the chief and most distinct feature of dress is the ruff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a time of change both of men’s and women’s neckwear. A few older women
+clung to the ruffs of their youth; younger women wore bands, falling-bands,
+falls, rebatoes, falling-whisks and whisks, the “fifty other ways” which could
+be counted everywhere. Carlyle says:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“There are various traceable small threads of relation, interesting
+reciprocities and mutabilities connecting the poor young Infant, New England,
+with its old Puritan mother and her affairs, which ought to be disentangled, to
+be made conspicuous by the Infant herself now she has grown big.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+These traceable threads of relation are ever of romantic interest to me, and
+even when I refer to the dress of English folk I linger with pleasure with
+those whose lives were connected even by the smallest thread with the Infant,
+New England. One such thread of connection was in the life of Lady Mary Armine;
+so I choose to give her picture <a href="#Lady_Mary_Armine.">here</a>, to
+illustrate the dress, if not of a New Englander, yet of one of New England’s
+closest friends. She was a noble, high-minded English gentlewoman, who gave
+“even to her dying day” to the conversion of poor tawny heathen of New England.
+A churchwoman by open profession, she was a Puritan in her sympathies, as were
+many of England’s best hearts and souls who never left the Church of England.
+She gave in one gift &pound;500 to families of ministers who had been driven
+from their pulpits in England. The Nipmuck schools at Natick and Hassamanesit
+(near Grafton) were founded under her patronage. The life of this “Truly
+Honourable, Very Aged and Singularly Pious Lady who dyed 1675,” was written as
+a “pattern to Ladies.” Her long prosy epitaph, after enumerating the virtues of
+many of the name of Mary, concludes thus:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“The Army of such Ladies so Divine<br/>
+This Lady said ‘I’ll follow, they Ar-mine.’<br/>
+Lady Elect! in whom there did combine<br/>
+So many Maries, might well say All Ar-mine.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A pun was a Puritan’s one jocularity; and he would pun even in an epitaph.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It will be seen that Lady Mary Armine wears the straight collar or band, and
+the black French hood which was the forerunner, then the rival, and at last the
+survivor of the “sugar-loaf” beaver or felt hat,—a hood with a history, which
+will have a chapter for the telling thereof. Lady Mary wears a peaked widow’s
+cap under her hood; this also is a detail of much interest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another portrait of this date is of Mrs. Clark (see <a
+href="#Mrs._William_Clark.">here</a>). This has two singular details; namely, a
+thumb-ring, which was frequently owned but infrequently painted, and a singular
+bracelet, which is accurately described in the verse of Herrick, written at
+that date:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“I saw about her spotless wrist<br/>
+Of blackest silk a curious twist<br/>
+Which circumvolving gently there<br/>
+Enthralled her arm as prisoner.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I may say in passing that I have seen in portraits knots of narrow ribbon on
+the wrists, both of men and women, and I am sure they had some mourning
+significance, as did the knot of black on the left arm of the queen of King
+James of England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have in the portrait shown as a frontispiece an excellent presentment of the
+dress of the Puritan woman of refinement; the dress worn by the wives of
+Winthrop, Endicott, Leverett, Dudley, Saltonstall, and other gentlemen of Salem
+and Boston and Plymouth. We have also the dress worn by her little child about
+a year old. This portrait is of Madam Padishal. She was a Plymouth woman; and
+we know from the inventories of estates that there were not so many richly
+dressed women in Plymouth as in Boston and Salem. This dress of Madam
+Padishal’s is certainly much richer than the ordinary attire of Plymouth dames
+of that generation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This portrait has been preserved in Plymouth in the family of Judge Thomas,
+from whom it descended to the present owner. Madam Padishal was young and
+handsome when this portrait was painted. Her black velvet gown is shaped just
+like the gown of Madam Rawson (shown <a href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a>), of
+Madam Stoddard (shown <a href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>), both Boston
+women; and of the English ladies of her times. It is much richer than that of
+Lady Mary Armine or Mrs. Clark.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The gown of Madam Padishal is varied pleasingly from that of Lady Mary Armine,
+in that the body is low-necked, and the lace whisk is worn over the bare neck.
+The pearl necklace and ear-rings likewise show a more frivolous spirit than
+that of the English dame.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another Plymouth portrait of very rich dress, that of Elizabeth Paddy, Mrs.
+John Wensley, faces this page. The dress in this is a golden-brown brocade
+under-petticoat and satin overdress. The stiff, busked stays are equal to Queen
+Elizabeth’s. Revers at the edge of overdress and on the virago sleeves are now
+of flame color, a Spanish pink, but were originally scarlet, I am sure. The
+narrow stomacher is a beaded galloon with bright spangles and bugles. On the
+hair there shows above the ears a curious ornament which resembles a band of
+this galloon. There are traces of a similar ornament in Madam Rawson’s portrait
+(<a href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a>); and Madam Stoddard’s (<a
+href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>) has some ornament over the ears. This
+may have been a modification of a contemporary Dutch head-jewel. The pattern of
+the lace of Elizabeth Paddy’s whisk is most distinct; it was a good costly
+Flemish parchment lace like Mrs. Padishal’s. She carries a fan, and wears
+rings, a pearl necklace, and ear-rings. I may say here that I have never seen
+other jewels than these,—a few rings, and necklace and ear-rings of pearl.
+Other necklaces seem never to have been worn.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Elizabeth_Paddy_Wensley."></a>
+<img src="images/093.jpg" alt="Elizabeth Paddy Wensley." />
+<p class="caption">Elizabeth Paddy Wensley.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+We cannot always trust that all the jewels seen in these portraits were real,
+or that the sitter owned as many as represented. A bill is in existence where a
+painter charged ten shillings extra for bestowing a gold and pearl necklace
+upon his complaisant subject. In this case, however, the extra charge was to
+pay for the gold paint or gold-leaf used for gilding the painted necklace. In
+the amusing letters of Lady Sussex to Lord Verney are many relating to her
+portrait by Van Dyck. She consented to the painting very unwillingly, saying,
+“it is money ill bestowed.” She writes:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Put Sr Vandyke in remembrance to do my pictuer well. I have seen sables with
+the clasp of them set with diamonds—if those I am pictured in were done so, I
+think it would look very well in the pictuer. If Sr Vandyke thinks it would do
+well I pray desier him to do all the clawes so. I do not mene the end of the
+tales but only the end of the other peces, they call them clawes I think.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This gives a glimpse of a richness of detail in dress even beyond our own day,
+and one which I commend to some New York dame of vast wealth, to have the claws
+of her sables set with diamonds. She writes later in two letters of some weeks’
+difference in date:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I am glad you have prefalede with Sr Vandyke to make my pictuer leaner, for
+truly it was too fat. If he made it farer it will bee to my credit. I am glad
+you have made Sr Vandyke mind my dress.” ...
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I am glad you have got home my pictuer, but I doubt he has made it lener or
+farer, but too rich in jewels, I am sure; but ’tis no great matter for another
+age to thinke mee richer than I was. I wish it could be mended in the face for
+sure ’tis very ugly. The pictuer is very ill-favourede, makes me quite out of
+love with myselfe, the face is so bigg and so fat it pleases mee not at all. It
+looks like one of the Windes puffinge—(but truly I think it is lyke the
+original).”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+I am struck by a likeness in workmanship in the portraits of these two Plymouth
+dames, and the portrait of Madam Stoddard (<a
+href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>), and succeeding illustrations of the
+Gibbes children. I do wish I knew whether these were painted by Tom Child—a
+painter-stainer and limner referred to by Judge Samuel Sewall in his Diary, who
+was living in Boston at that time. Perhaps we may find something, some day, to
+tell us this. I feel sure these were all painted in America, especially the
+portraits of the Gibbes children. A great many coats-of-arms were made in
+Boston at this time, and I expect the painter-stainer made them. All painting
+then was called coloring. A man would say in 1700, “Archer has set us a fine
+example of expense; he has colored his house, and has even laid one room in
+oils; he had the painter-stainer from Boston to do it—the man who limns faces,
+and does pieces, and tricks coats.” This was absolutely correct English, but we
+would hardly know that the man meant: “Archer has been extravagant enough; he
+has painted his house, and even painted the woodwork of one room. He had the
+artist from Boston to do the work—the painter of faces and full-lengths, who
+makes coats-of-arms.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is hard to associate the very melancholy countenance shown <a
+href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a> with a tradition of youth and beauty. Had the
+portrait been painted after a romance of sorrow came to this young maid,
+Rebecca Rawson, we could understand her expression; but it was painted when she
+was young and beautiful, so beautiful that she caught the eye and the wandering
+affections of a wandering gentleman, who announced himself as the son of one
+nobleman and kinsman of many others, and persuaded this daughter of Secretary
+Edward Rawson to marry him, which she did in the presence of forty witnesses.
+This young married pair then went to London, where the husband deserted
+Rebecca, who found to her horror that she was not his wife, as he had at least
+one English wife living. Alone and proud, Rebecca Rawson supported herself and
+her child by painting on glass; and when at last she set out to return to her
+childhood’s home, her life was lost at sea by shipwreck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The portrait of another Boston woman of distinction, Mrs. Simeon Stoddard, is
+given <a href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>. I will attempt to explain who
+Mrs. Simeon Stoddard was. She was Mr. Stoddard’s third widow and the third
+widow also of Peter Sergeant, builder of the Province House. Mr. Sergeant’s
+second wife had been married twice before she married him, and Simeon
+Stoddard’s father had four wives, all having been widows when he married them.
+Lastly, our Mrs. Simeon Stoddard, triumphing over death and this gallimaufry of
+Boston widows, took a fourth husband, the richest merchant in town, Samuel
+Shrimpton. Having had in all four husbands of wealth, and with them and their
+accumulation of widows there must have been as a widow’s mite an immense
+increment and inheritance of clothing (for clothing we know was a valued
+bequest), it is natural that we find her very richly dressed and with a
+distinctly haughty look upon her handsome face as becomes a conqueror both of
+men and widows.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The straight, lace collar, such as is worn by Madam Padishal and shown in all
+portraits of this date, is, I believe, a whisk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The whisk was a very interesting and to us a puzzling article of attire,
+through the lack of precise description. It was at first called the
+falling-whisk, and is believed to have been simply the handsome, lace-edged,
+stiff, standing collar turned down over the shoulders. This collar had been
+both worn with the ruff and worn after it, and had been called a fall.
+Quicherat tells that the “whisk” came into universal use in 1644, when very
+low-necked gowns were worn, and that it was simply a kerchief or fichu to cover
+the neck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have a few side-lights to help us, as to the shape of the whisk, in the form
+of advertisements of lost whisks. In one case (1662) it is “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 a strap hanging down before.”
+And in 1664 “A Tiffany Whisk with a great Lace down and a little one up, of
+large Flowers, and open work; with a Roul for the Head and Peak.” The roll and
+peak were part of a cap.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard."></a>
+<img src="images/098.jpg" alt="Mrs. Simeon Stoddard." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Simeon Stoddard.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+These portraits show whisks in slightly varying forms. We have the “broad Lace
+lying down” in the handsome band at the shoulder; the “little lace standing up”
+was a narrow lace edging the whisk at the throat or just above the broad lace.
+Sometimes the whisk was wholly of mull or lawn. The whisk was at first wholly a
+part of woman’s attire, then for a time it was worn, in modified form, by men.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madam Pepys had a white whisk in 1660 and then a “noble lace whisk.” The same
+year she bought hers in London, Governor Berkeley paid half a pound for a
+tiffany whisk in Virginia. Many American women, probably all well-dressed
+women, had them. They are also seen on French portraits of the day. One of
+Madam de Maintenon shows precisely the same whisk as this of Madam Padishal’s,
+tied in front with tiny knots of ribbon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It will be noted that Madam Padishal has black lace frills about the upper
+portion of the sleeve, at the arm-scye. English portraits previous to the year
+1660 seldom show black lace, and portraits are not many of the succeeding forty
+years which have black lace, so in this American portrait this detail is
+unusual. The wearing of black lace came into a short popularity in the year
+1660, through compliment to the Spanish court upon the marriage of the young
+French king, Louis XIV, with the Infanta. The English court followed promptly.
+Pepys gloried in “our Mistress Stewart in black and white lace.” It interests
+me to see how quickly American women had the very latest court fashions and
+wore them even in uncourtlike America; such distinct novelties as black lace.
+Contemporary descriptions of dress are silent as to it by the year 1700, and it
+disappears from portraits until a century later, when we have pretty black lace
+collars, capes and fichus, as may be seen on the portraits of Mrs. Sedgwick,
+Mrs. Waldo, and others later in this book. These first black laces of 1660 are
+Bayeux laces, which are precisely like our Chantilly laces of to-day. This
+ancient piece of black lace has been carefully preserved in an old New York
+family. A portrait of the year 1690 has a black lace frill like the Maltese
+laces of to-day, with the same guipure pattern. But such laces were not made in
+Malta until after 1833. So it must have been a guipure lace of the kind known
+in England as parchment lace. This was made in the environs of Paris, but was
+seldom black, so this was a rare bit. It was sometimes made of gold and silver
+thread. Parchment lace was a favorite lace of Mary, Queen of Scots, and through
+her good offices was peddled in England by French lace-makers. The black moiré
+hoods of Italian women sometimes had a narrow edge of black lace, and a little
+was brought to England on French hoods, but as a whole black lace was seldom
+seen or known.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Ancient_Black_Lace."></a>
+<img src="images/100.jpg" alt="Ancient Black Lace." />
+<p class="caption">Ancient Black Lace.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+An evidence of the widespread extent of fashions even in that day, a proof that
+English and French women and American women (when American women there were
+other than the native squaws) all dressed alike, is found in comparing
+portraits. An interesting one from the James Jackson Jarvis Collection is now
+in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. It is of an unknown woman and by an unknown
+artist, and is simply labelled “Of the School of Susteman.” But this unknown
+Frenchwoman has a dress as precisely like Madam Padishal’s and Madam Stoddard’s
+as are Doucet’s models of to-day like each other. All have the whisk of rich
+straight-edged lace, and the tiny knots of velvet ribbon. All have the sleeve
+knots, but the French portrait is gay in narrow red and buff ribbon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Doubtless many have formed their notion of Puritan dress from the imaginary
+pictures of several popular modern artists. It can plainly be seen by any one
+who examines the portraits in this book that they are little like these modern
+representations. The single figures called “Priscilla” and “Rose Standish” are
+well known. The former is the better in costume, and could the close dark cloth
+or velvet hood with turned-back band, and plain linen edge displayed beneath,
+be exchanged for the horseshoe shaped French hood which was then and many years
+later the universal head-wear, the verisimilitude would be increased. This hood
+is shown on the portraits of Madam Rawson, Madam Stoddard, Mistress Paddy, and
+others in this book. Rose Standish’s cap is a very pretty one, much prettier
+than the French hood, but I do not find it like any cap in English portraits of
+that day. Nor have I seen her picturesque sash. I do not deny the existence in
+portraits of 1620 of this cap and sash; I simply say that I have never found
+them myself in the hundreds of English portraits, effigies, etc., that I have
+examined.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It will be noted that the women in the modern pictures all wear aprons. I think
+this is correct as they are drawn in their everyday dress, but it will be noted
+that none of these portraits display an apron; nor was an apron part of any
+rich dress in the seventeenth century. The reign of the apron had been in the
+sixteenth century, and it came in again with Anne. Of course every woman in
+Massachusetts used aprons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Early inventories of the effects of emigrant dames contain many an item of
+those housewifely garments. Jane Humphreys, of Dorchester, Massachusetts, had
+in her good wardrobe, in 1668, “2 Blew aprons, A White Holland Apron with a
+Small Lace at the bottom. A White Holland Apron with two breathes in it. My
+best white apron. My greene apron.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the pictures, <i>The Return of the Mayflower</i> and <i>The Pilgrim
+Exiles</i>, the masculine dress therein displayed is very close to that of the
+real men of the times. The great power of these pictures is, after all, not in
+the dress, but in the expression of the faces. The artist has portrayed the
+very spirit of pure religious feeling, self-denial, home-longing, and sadness
+of exile which we know must have been imprinted on those faces.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lack of likeness in the women’s dress is more through difference of figure
+and carriage and an indescribable cut of the garments than in detail, except in
+one adjunct, the sleeve, which is wholly unlike the seventeenth-century sleeve
+in these portraits. I have ever deemed the sleeve an important part both of a
+man’s coat and a woman’s gown. The tailor in the old play, <i>The Maid of the
+Mill</i>, says, “O Sleeve! O Sleeve! I’ll study all night, madam, to magnify
+your sleeves!” By its inelegant shape a garment may be ruined. By its grace it
+accents the beauty of other portions of the apparel. In these pictures of
+Puritan attire, it has proved able to make or mar the likeness to the real
+dress. It is now a component part of both outer and inner garment. It was
+formerly extraneous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the reign of Henry VIII, the sleeve was generally a separate article of
+dress and the most gorgeous and richly ornamented portion of the dress. Outer
+and inner sleeves were worn by both men and women, for their doublets were
+sleeveless. Elizabeth gradually banished the outer hanging sleeve, though she
+retained the detached sleeve.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sleeves had grown gravely offensive to Puritans; the slashing was excessive. A
+Massachusetts statute of 1634 specifies that “No man or woman shall make or buy
+any slashed clothes other than one slash in each sleeve and another in the
+back. Men and women shall have liberty to wear out such apparell as they now
+are provided of except the immoderate great sleeves and slashed apparel.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Virago-sleeve."></a>
+<img src="images/104.jpg" alt="Virago-sleeve." />
+<p class="caption">Virago-sleeve.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Size and slashes were both held to be a waste of good cloth. “Immoderate great
+sleeves” could never be the simple coat sleeve with cuff in which our modern
+artists are given to depicting Virginian and New England dames. Doubtless the
+general shape of the dress was simple enough, but the sleeve was the only part
+which was not close and plain and unornamented. I have found no close coat
+sleeves with cuffs upon any old American portraits. I recall none on English
+portraits. You may see them, though rarely, in England under hanging sleeves
+upon figures which have proved valuable conservators of fashion, albeit sombre
+of design and rigid of form, namely, effigies in stone or metal upon old tombs;
+these not after the year 1620, though these are really a small “leg-of-mutton”
+sleeve being gathered into the arm-scye. A beautiful brass in a church on the
+Isle of Wight is dated 1615. This has long, hanging sleeves edged with leaflike
+points of cut-work; cuffs of similar work turn back from the wrists of the
+undersleeves. A <i>Satyr</i> by Fitzgeffrey, published the same year, complains
+that the wrists of women and men are clogged with bush-points, ribbons, or
+rebato-twists. “Double cufts” is an entry in a Plymouth inventory—which
+explains itself. In the hundreds of inventories I have investigated I have
+never seen half a dozen entries of cuffs. The two or three I have found have
+been specified as “lace cuffs.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, wrote with a vivid pen; one of his own
+followers said with severity, “He paints high.” Some of his denunciations of
+the dress of his day afford a very good notion of the peculiarities of
+contemporary costume; though he may be read with this caution in mind. He
+writes deploringly of women’s sleeves (in the year 1654); it will be noted that
+he refers to double cuffs:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The women having their cuffs double under and above, like a butcher with his
+white sleeves, their ribands tied about their hands, and three or four gold
+laces about their clothes.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="NinondelEnclos"></a>
+<img src="images/106.jpg" alt="Ninon de l’Enclos." />
+<p class="caption">Ninon de l’Enclos.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+There were three generations of English heralds named Holme, all genealogists,
+and all artists; they have added much to our knowledge of old English dress.
+Randle Holme, the Chester herald, lived in the reign of Charles II, and
+increased a collection of manuscript begun by his grandfather and now forming
+part of the Harleian Collection in the British Museum. He wrote also the
+<i>Academy of Armoury</i>, published in 1688, and made a vast number of
+drawings for it, as well as for his other works. His note-books of drawings are
+preserved. In one of them he gives drawings of the sleeve which is found on
+every seventeenth-century portrait of American women which I have ever seen. He
+calls this a virago-sleeve. It was worn in Queen Elizabeth’s day, but was a
+French fashion. It is gathered very full in the shoulder and again at the
+wrist, or at the forearm. At intervals between, it is drawn in by
+gathering-strings of narrow ribbons, or ferret, which are tied in a pretty knot
+or rose on the upper part of the sleeve. One from a French portrait is given <a
+href="#Virago-sleeve.">here</a>. Madam Ninon de l’Enclos also wears one. This
+gathering may be at the elbow, forming thus two puffs, or there may be several
+such drawing-strings. I have seen a virago-sleeve with five puffs. It is a fine
+decorative sleeve, not always shapely, perhaps, but affording in the pretty
+knots of ribbon some relief to the severity of the rest of the dress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stubbes wrote, “Some have sleeves cut up the arm, drawn out with sundry
+colours, pointed with silk ribbands, and very gallantly tied with love knotts.”
+It was at first a convention of fashion, and it lingered long in some
+modification, that wherever there was a slash there was a knot of ribbon or a
+bunch of tags or aglets. This in its origin was really that the slash might be
+tied together. Ribbon knots were much worn; the early days of the great court
+of Louis XIV saw an infinite use of ribbons for men and women. When, in the
+closing years of the century, rows of these knots were placed on either side of
+the stiff busk with bars of ribbon forming a stomacher, they were called
+<i>echelles</i>, ladders. <i>The Ladies’ Dictionary</i> (1694) says they were
+“much in request.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This virago-sleeve was worn by women of all ages and by children, both boys and
+girls. A virago-sleeve is worn by Rebecca Rawson (<a
+href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a>), and by Mrs. Simeon Stoddard (<a
+href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>), by Madam Padishal and by her little
+girl, and by the Gibbes child shown later in the book.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A carved figure of Anne Stotevill (1631) is in Westminster Abbey. Her dress is
+a rich gown slightly open in front at the foot. It has ornamental hooks, or
+frogs, with a button at each end—these are in groups of three, from chin to
+toe. Four groups of three frogs each, on both sides, make twenty-four, thus
+giving forty-eight buttons. A stiff ruff is at the neck, and similar smaller
+ones at the wrist. She wears a French hood with a loose scarf over it. She has
+a very graceful virago-sleeve with handsome knots of ribbon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is certain that men’s sleeves and women’s sleeves kept ever close company.
+Neither followed the other; they walked abreast. If a woman’s sleeves were
+broad and scalloped, so was the man’s. If the man had a tight and narrow
+sleeve, so did his wife. When women had virago-sleeves, so did men. Even in the
+nineteenth century, at the first coming of leg-of-mutton sleeves in 1830 <i>et
+seq</i>., dandies’ sleeves were gathered full at the armhole. In the second
+reign of these vast sleeves a few years ago, man had emancipated himself from
+the reign of woman’s fashions, and his sleeves remained severely plain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Small invoices of fashionable clothing were constantly being sent across seas.
+There were sent to and from England and other countries “ventures,” which were
+either small lots of goods sent on speculation to be sold in the New World, or
+a small sum given by a private individual as a “venture,” with instructions to
+purchase abroad anything of interest or value that was salable. To take charge
+of these petty commercial transactions, there existed an officer, now obsolete,
+known as a supercargo. It is told that one Providence ship went out with the
+ventures of one hundred and fifty neighbors on board—that is, one hundred and
+fifty persons had some money or property at stake on the trip. Three hundred
+ventures were placed with another supercargo. Sometimes women sent sage from
+their gardens, or ginseng if they could get it. A bunch of sage paid in China
+for a porcelain tea-set. Along the coast, women ventured food-supplies,—cheese,
+eggs, butter, dried apples, pickles, even hard gingerbread; another sent a
+barrel of cider vinegar. Clothes in small lots were constantly being bought and
+sold on a venture. From London, in November, 1667, Walter Banesely sent as a
+venture to William Pitkin in Hartford these articles of clothing with their
+prices:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound;</td><td>s.</td></tr>
+<tr><td> “1 Paire Pinck Colour’d mens hose</td><td>1</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>10 Paire Mens Silke Hose, 17s per pair</td><td>8</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>10 Paire Womens Silke Hose, 16s per pair</td><td>1</td><td> 12</td></tr>
+<tr><td> 10 Paire Womens Green Hose</td><td>6</td><td> 10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pinck Colour’d Stomacher made of Knotts</td><td>3</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pinck Colour’d Wastcote</td></tr> <tr><td>A Black Sute of Padisuay. Hatt,</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Hatt band, Shoo knots &amp;; trunk.</td></tr>
+<tr><td> The wastcote and stomacher are a</td></tr>
+<tr><td> Venture of my wife’s; the Silke Stockens mine own.”</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+There remains another means of information of the dress of Puritan women in
+what was the nearest approach to a collection of fashion-plates which the times
+afforded.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Lady_Catharina_Howard."></a>
+<img src="images/110.jpg" alt="Lady Catharina Howard." />
+<p class="caption">Lady Catharina Howard.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the year 1640 a collection of twenty-six pictures of Englishwomen was issued
+by one Wenceslas Hollar, an engraver and drawing-master, with this title,
+<i>Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus. The severall Habits of Englishwomen, from the
+Nobilitie to the Country Woman As they are in these Times.</i> These bear the
+same relation to portraits showing what was really worn, as do fashion-plates
+to photographs. They give us the shapes of gowns, bonnets, etc., yet are not
+precisely the real thing. The value of this special set is found in three
+points: First, the drawings confirm the testimony of Lely, Van Dyck, and other
+artists; they prove how slightly Van Dyck idealized the costume of his sitters.
+Second, they give representations of folk in the lower walks of life; such folk
+were not of course depicted in portraits. Third, the drawings are full length,
+which the portraits are not. Four of these drawings are reduced and shown <a
+href="#Costumes_of_Englishwomen_of_the_Seventeenth_Century.">here</a>. I give
+<a href="#A_Puritan_Dame.">here</a> the one entitled <i>The Puritan Woman</i>,
+though it is one of the most disappointing in the whole collection. It is such
+a negative presentation; so little marked detail or even associated evidence is
+gained from it. I had a baffled thought after examining it that I knew less of
+Puritan dress than without it. I see that they gather up their gowns for
+walking after a mode known in later years as washerwoman style. And by that
+very gathering up we lose what the drawing might have told us; namely, how the
+gowns were shaped in the back; how attached to the waist or bodice; and how the
+bodice was shaped at the waist, whether it had a straight belt, whether it was
+pointed, whether slashed in tabs or laps like a samare. The sleeve, too, is
+concealed, and the kerchief hides everything else. We know these kerchiefs were
+worn among the “fifty other ways,” for some portraits have them; but the whisk
+was far more common. Lady Catharina Howard, aged eleven in the year 1646, was
+drawn by Hollar in a kerchief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There had been some change in the names of women’s attire in twenty years,
+since 1600, when the catalogue of the Queen’s wardrobe was made. Exclusive of
+the Coronation, Garter, Parliament, and mourning robes, it ran thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Robes.<br/>
+Petticoats.<br/>
+French gowns. <br/>
+Cloaks.<br/>
+Round gowns. <br/>
+Safeguards.<br/>
+Loose gowns.<br/>
+Jupes.<br/>
+Kirtles.<br/>
+Doublets.<br/>
+Foreparts.<br/>
+Lap mantles.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In her New Year’s gifts were also, “strayt-bodyed gowns, trayn-gowns,
+waist-robes, night rayls, shoulder cloaks, inner sleeves, round kirtles.” She
+also had nightgowns and jackets, and underwear, hose, and various forms of
+foot-gear. Many of these garments never came to America. Some came under new
+names. Many quickly disappeared from wardrobes. I never read in early American
+inventories of robes, either French robes or plain robes. Round gowns, loose
+gowns, petticoats, cloaks, safeguards, lap mantles, sleeves, nightgowns,
+nightrails, and night-jackets continued in wear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have never found the word forepart in this distinctive signification nor the
+word kirtle; though our modern writers of historical novels are most liberal of
+kirtles to their heroines. It is a pretty, quaint name, and ought to have
+lingered with us; but “what a deformed thief this Fashion is”—it will not leave
+with us garment or name that we like simply because it pleases us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Doublets were worn by women.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The Women also have doublets and Jerkins as men have, buttoned up the brest,
+and made with Wings, Welts and Pinions on shoulder points as men’s apparell is
+for all the world, &amp;; though this be a kind of attire appropriate only to
+Man yet they blush not to wear it.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Anne Hibbins, the <i>witch</i>, had a black satin doublet among other
+substantial attire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A fellow-barrister of Governor John Winthrop, Sergeant Erasmus Earle, a most
+uxorious husband, was writing love-letters to his wife Frances, who lived out
+of London, at the same time that Winthrop was writing to Margaret Winthrop.
+Earle was much concerned over a certain doublet he had ordered for his wife. He
+had bought the blue bayes for this garment in two pieces, and he could not
+decide whether the shorter piece should go into the sleeve or the body, whether
+it should have skirts or not. If it did not, then he had bought too much silver
+lace, which troubled him sorely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret Winthrop had better instincts; to her husband’s query as to sending
+trimming for her doublet and gown, she answers, “<i>When I see the cloth</i> I
+will send word what trimming will serve;” and she writes to London, insisting
+on “the civilest fashion now in use,” and for Sister Downing, who is still in
+England, to give Tailor Smith directions “that he may make it the better.” Mr.
+Smith sent scissors and a hundred needles and the like homely gifts across seas
+as “tokens” to various members of the Winthrop household, showing his friendly
+intimacy with them all. For many years after America was settled we find no
+evidence that women’s garments were ever made by mantua-makers. All the bills
+which exist are from tailors. One of William Sweatland for work done for
+Jonathan Corwin of Salem is in the library of the American Antiquarian
+Society:—
+</p>
+
+<table>
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound;</td><td>s.</td><td>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>“Sept. 29, 1679. To plaiting a gown for Mrs.</td><td></td><td>3</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a Childs Coat</td><td></td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a Scarlet petticoat with Silver Lace for Mrs.</td><td></td><td>9</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For new makeing a plush somar for Mrs.</td><td></td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Dec. 22, 1679. For makeing a somar for your Maide</td><td></td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Mar. 10, 1679. To a yard of Callico</td><td></td><td>2</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To 1 Douzen and 1/2 of silver buttons</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To Thread</td><td></td><td></td><td>4</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a broad cloth hatte</td><td></td><td>14</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a haire Camcottcoat</td><td></td><td>9</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing new halfsleeves to a silk Coascett</td><td></td><td>1</td></tr>
+<tr><td>March 25. To altering and fitting a paire of Stays for Mrs</td><td></td><td>1</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Ap. 2, 1680, to makeing a Gowne for ye Maide</td><td></td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>May 20. For removing buttons of yr coat.</td><td></td><td></td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Juli 25, 1630. For makeing two Hatts and Jacketts for your two sonnes</td><td></td><td>19</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Aug. 14. To makeing a white Scarsonnett plaited Gowne for Mrs</td><td></td><td>8</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a black broad cloth Coat for yourselfe</td><td></td><td>9</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Sept. 3, 1868. To makeing a Silke Laced Gowne for Mrs</td><td>1</td><td>8</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Oct. 7, 1860, to makeing a Young Childs Coate</td><td></td><td>4</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To faceing your Owne Coat Sleeves</td><td></td><td>1</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To new plaiting a petty Coat for Mrs</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Nov. 7. To makeing a black broad Cloth Gowne for Mrs</td><td></td><td>18</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Feb. 26, 1680-1. To Searing a Petty Coat for Mrs</td><td></td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td>—-</td><td>—-</td><td>—-</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td>Sum is, &pound;;8</td><td> 4s.</td><td>10d.</td><td>”</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+From many bills and inventories we learn that the time of the settlement of
+Plymouth and Boston reached a transitional period in women’s dress as it did in
+men’s. Mrs. Winthrop had doublets as had Governor Winthrop, but I think her
+daughter wore gowns when her sons wore coats. The doublet for a woman was
+shaped like that of a man, and was of double thickness like a man’s. It might
+be sleeveless, with a row of welts or wings around the armhole; or if it had
+sleeves the welts, or a roll or cap, still remained. The trimming of the
+arm-scye was universal, both for men and women. A fuller description of the
+doublet than has ever before been written will be given in the chapter upon the
+Evolution of the Coat. The “somar” which is the samare, named also in the bill
+of the Salem tailor, seems to have been a Dutch garment, and was so much worn
+in New York that I prefer to write of it in the following chapter. We are then
+left with the gown; the gown which took definite shape in Elizabeth’s day. Of
+course no one could describe it like Stubbes. I frankly confess my inability to
+approach him. Read his words, so concise yet full of color and conveying
+detail; I protest it is wonderful.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Their Gowns be no less famous, some of silk velvet grogram taffety fine cloth
+of forty shillings a yard. But if the whole gown be not silke or velvet then
+the same shall be layed with lace two or three fingers broade all over the
+gowne or the most parte. Or if not so (as Lace is not fine enough sometimes)
+then it must be garded with great gardes of costly Lace, and as these gowns be
+of sundry colours so they be of divers fashions changing with the Moon. Some
+with sleeves hanging down to their skirts, trayling on the ground, and cast
+over the shoulders like a cow’s tayle. These have sleeves much shorter, cut up
+the arme, and pointed with Silke-ribons very gallantly tyed with true loves
+knottes—(for soe they call them). Some have capes fastened down to the middist
+of their backs, faced with velvet or else with some fine wrought silk Taffeetie
+at the least, and fringed about Bravely, and (to sum up all in a word) some are
+pleated and ryveled down the back wonderfully with more knacks than I can
+declare.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The guards of lace a finger broad laid on over the seams of the gown are
+described by Pepys in his day. He had some of these guards of gold lace taken
+from the seams of one of his wife’s old gowns to overlay the seams of one of
+his own cassocks and rig it up for wear, just as he took his wife’s old muff,
+like a thrifty husband, and bought her a new muff, like a kind one. Not such a
+domestic frugalist was he, though, as his contemporary, the great political
+economist, Dudley North, Baron Guildford, Lord Sheriff of London, who loved to
+sit with his wife ripping off the old guards of lace from her gown, “unpicking”
+her gown, he called it, and was not at all secret about it. Both men walked
+abroad to survey the gems and guards worn by their neighbors’ wives, and to
+bring home word of new stuffs, new trimmings, to their own wives. Really a
+seventeenth-century husband was not so bad. Note in my <i>Life of Margaret
+Winthrop</i> how Winthrop’s fellow-barrister, Sergeant Erasmus Earle, bought
+camlet and lace, and patterns for doublets for his wife Frances Fontayne, and
+ran from London clothier to London mantua-maker, and then to London haberdasher
+and London tailor, to learn the newest weaves of cloth, the newest drawing in
+of the sleeves. I know no nineteenth-century husband of that name who would
+hunt materials and sleeve patterns, and buy doublet laces and find gown-guards
+for his wife. And then the gown sleeves! What a description by Stubbes of the
+virago-sleeve “tied in and knotted with silk ribbons in love-knots!” It is all
+wonderful to read.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We learn from these tailors’ bills that tailors’ work embraced far more
+articles than to-day; in the <i>Orbis Sensualium Pictus</i>, 1659, a tailor’s
+shop has hanging upon the wall woollen hats, breeches, waistcoats, jackets,
+women’s cloaks, and petticoats. There are also either long hose or lasts for
+stretching hose, for they made stockings, leggins, gaiters, buskins; also a
+number of boxes which look like muff-boxes. One tailor at work is seated upon a
+platform raised about a foot from the floor. His seat is a curious bench with
+two legs about two feet long and two about one foot long. The base of the two
+long legs are on the floor, the other two set upon the platform. The tailor’s
+feet are on the platform, thus his work is held well up before his face.
+Sometimes his legs are crossed upon the platform in front of him. The platform
+was necessary, or, at any rate, advisable for another reason. The habits of
+Englishmen at that time, their manners and customs, I mean, were not tidy; and
+floors were very dirty. Any garment resting on the floor would have been too
+soiled for a gentleman’s wear before it was donned at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have discovered one thing about old-time tailors,—they were just as trying as
+their successors, and had as many tricks of trade. A writer in 1582 says, “If a
+tailor makes your gown too little, he covers his fault with a broad stomacher;
+if too great, with a number of pleats; if too short, with a fine guard; if too
+long with a false gathering.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In several of the household accounts of colonial dames which I have examined I
+have found the prices and items very confusing and irregular when compared with
+tailors’ bills and descriptive notes and letters accompanying them. And in one
+case I was fain to believe that the lady’s account-book had been kept upon the
+plan devised by the simple Mrs. Pepys,—a plan which did anger her spouse Samuel
+“most mightily.” He was filled with admiration of her household-lists—her
+kitchen accounts. He admired in the modern sense of the word “admire”; then he
+admired in the old-time meaning—of suspicious wonder. For albeit she could do
+through his strenuous teaching but simple sums in “Arithmetique,” had never
+even attempted long division, yet she always rendered to her husband perfectly
+balanced accounts, month after month. At last, to his angry queries, she
+whimpered that “whenever she doe misse a sum of money, she do add some sums to
+other things,” till she made it perfectly correct in her book—a piece of such
+simple duplicity that I wonder her husband had not suspected it months before.
+And she also revealed to him that she “would lay aside money for a necklace” by
+pretending to pay more for household supplies than she really had, and then
+tying up the extra amount in a stocking foot. He writes, “I find she is very
+cunning and when she makes least show hath her wits at work; and <i>so</i> to
+my office to my accounts.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Costumes_of_Englishwomen_of_the_Seventeenth_Century."></a>
+<img src="images/119.jpg" alt="Costumes of Englishwomen of the Seventeenth
+Century." />
+<p class="caption">Costumes of Englishwomen of the Seventeenth Century.
+</p></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS</h3>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Two things I love, two usuall thinges they are:<br/>
+The Firste, New-fashioned cloaths I love to wear,<br/>
+Newe Tires, newe Ruffes; aye, and newe Gestures too<br/>
+In all newe Fashions I do love to goe.<br/>
+    The Second Thing I love is this, I weene<br/>
+    To ride aboute to have those Newe Cloaths scene.<br/>
+<br/>
+“At every Gossipping I am at still<br/>
+And ever wilbe—maye I have my will.<br/>
+For at ones own Home, praie—who is’t can see<br/>
+How fyne in new-found fashioned Tyres we bee?<br/>
+Vnless our Husbands—Faith! but very fewe!—<br/>
+And whoo’d goe gaie, to please a Husband’s view?<br/>
+    Alas! wee wives doe take but small Delight<br/>
+    If none (besides our husbands) see that Sight”<br/>
+<br/>
+—“The Gossipping Wives Complaint,” 1611 (circa).
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="95" height="92" src="images/initiali.jpg" alt="I" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+t is a matter of deep regret that no “Lists of Apparel” were made out for the
+women emigrants in any of the colonies. Doubtless many came who had a distinct
+allotment of clothing, among them the redemptioners. We know one case, that of
+the “Casket Girls,” of Louisiana, where a group of “virtuous, modest,
+well-carriaged young maids” each had a casket or box of clothing supplied to
+her as part of her payment for emigration. I wish we had these lists, not that
+I should deem them of great value or accuracy in one respect since they would
+have been made out naturally by men, but because I should like to read the
+struggles of the average shipping-clerk or supercargo, or even shipping-master
+or company’s president, over the items of women’s dress. One reason why the
+lists we have in the court records are so wildly spelled and often vague is, I
+am sure, because the recording-clerks were always men. Such hopeless puzzles as
+droll or drowlas, cale or caul or kail, chatto or shadow, shabbaroon or
+chaperone, have come to us through these poor struggling gentlemen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There are not to my knowledge any portraits in existence of the wives of the
+first Dutch settlers of New Netherland. They would have been dressed, I am
+sure, in the full dress of Holland vrouws. We can turn to the court records of
+New Netherland to learn the exact item of the dress of the settlers. Let me
+give in full this inventory of an exceptionally rich and varied wardrobe of
+Madam Jacob de Lange of New Amsterdam, 1662:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound;;</td><td> s.</td><td>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One under petticoat with a body of red bay</td><td>1</td><td>7</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One under petticoat, scarlet</td><td>1</td><td>15</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One petticoat, red cloth with black lace</td><td>2</td><td>15</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One striped stuff petticoat with black lace</td><td>2</td><td>8</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Two colored drugget petticoats with gray linings</td><td>1</td><td>2</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Two colored drugget petticoats with white linings</td><td></td><td>18</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One colored drugget petticoat with pointed lace</td><td></td><td>8</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One black silk petticoat with ash gray silk lining</td><td>1</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One potto-foo silk petticoat with black silk lining</td><td>2</td><td>15</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One potto-foo silk petticoat with taffeta lining</td><td>1</td><td>13</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One silk potoso-a-samare with lace</td><td>3</td><td></td></tr>
+<tr><td>One tartanel samare with tucker</td><td>1</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One black silk crape samare with tucker</td><td>1</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Three flowered calico samares</td><td>2</td><td>17</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Three calico nightgowns, one flowered, two red</td><td></td><td>7</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One silk waistcoat, one calico waistcoa.</td><td></td><td>14</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One pair of bodices</td><td></td><td>4</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Five pair white cotton stockings</td><td></td><td>9</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Three black love-hoods</td><td></td><td>5</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One white love-hood</td><td></td><td>2</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Two pair sleeves with great lace</td><td>1</td><td>3</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Four cornet caps with lace</td><td>3</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One black silk rain cloth cap</td><td></td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One black plush mask</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Four yellow lace drowlas</td><td></td><td>2</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+This is a most interesting list of garments. The sleeves with great lace must
+from their price have been very rich articles of dress. The yellow lace
+drowlas, since there were four of them (and no other neckerchiefs, such as
+gorgets, piccadillies, or whisks are named), must have been neckwear of some
+form. I suspect they are the lace drowls or drolls to which I refer in a
+succeeding chapter on A Vain Puritan Grandmother. The rain cloth cap of black
+silk is curious also, being intended to wear over another cap or a love-hood.
+The cornet caps with lace are a Dutch fashion. The “lace” was in the form of
+lappets or pinners which flapped down at the side of the face over the ears and
+almost over the cheeks. Evelyn speaks of a woman in “a cornet with the upper
+pinner dangling about her cheeks like hound’s ears.” Cotgrave tells in rather
+vague definition that a cornet is “a fashion of Shadow or Boone Grace used in
+old time and to this day by old women.” It was not like a bongrace, nor like
+the cap I always have termed a shadow, but it had two points like broad horns
+or ears with lace or gauze spread over both and hanging from these horns.
+Cornets and corneted caps are often in Dutch inventories in early New York. And
+they can be seen in old Dutch pictures. They were one of the few distinctly
+Dutch modes that lingered in New Netherland; but by the third generation from
+the settlement they had disappeared.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._Livingstone."></a>
+<img src="images/124.jpg" alt="Mrs. Livingstone." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Livingstone.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+What the words “potto-foo” and “potoso-a-samare” mean I cannot decipher. I have
+tried to find Dutch words allied in sound but in vain. I believe the samare was
+a Dutch fashion. We rarely find samares worn in Virginia and Maryland, but the
+name frequently occurs in the first Dutch inventories in New Netherland and
+occasionally in the Connecticut valley, where there were a few Dutch settlers;
+occasionally also in Plymouth, whose first settlers had been for a number of
+years under Dutch influences in Holland; and rarely in Salem and Boston, whose
+planters also had felt Dutch influences through the settling in Essex and
+Suffolk of opulent Flemish and Dutch “clothiers”—cloth-workers. These Dutchmen
+had married Englishwomen, and their presence in English homes was distinctly
+shown by the use then and to the present day of Dutch words, Dutch articles of
+dress, furniture, and food. From these Dutch-settled shires of Essex and
+Suffolk came John Winthrop and all the so-called Bay Emigration.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I am convinced that a samare was a certain garment which I have seen in French,
+Dutch, and English portraits of the day. It is a tight-fitting jacket or waist
+or bodice—call it what you will; its skirt or portion below the belt-line is
+four to eight inches deep, cut up in tabs or oblong flaps, four on each side.
+These slits are to the belt line. It is, to explain further, a basque,
+tight-fitting or with the waist laid in plaits, and with the basque skirt cut
+in eight tabs. These laps or tabs set out rather stiffly and squarely over the
+full-gathered petticoats of the day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I turn to a Dutch dictionary for a definition of the word “samare,” though my
+Dutch dictionary being of the date 1735 is too recent a publication to be of
+much value. In it a samare is defined simply as a woman’s gown. Randle Holme
+says, rather vaguely, that it is a short jacket for women’s wear with four
+side-laps, reaching to the knees. In this rich wardrobe of the widow De Lange,
+twelve petticoats are enumerated and no overdress-jacket or doublet of any kind
+except those samares. Their price shows that they were not a small garment. One
+“silk potoso-a-samare with lace” was worth &pound;;3. One “tartanel samare with
+tucker” was worth &pound;;1 10s. One “black silk crape samare with tucker” was
+worth &pound;;1 10s., and three “flowered calico” samares were worth &pound;;2
+10s. They were evidently of varying weights for summer and winter wear, and
+were worn over the rich petticoat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The bill of the Salem tailor, William Sweatland (1679), shows that he charged
+9s. for making a scarlet petticoat with silver lace; for making a black
+broadcloth gown 18s.; while “new-makeing a plush somar for Mistress.” (which
+was making over) was 6s.; “making a somar for your Maide” was 10s., which was
+the same price he charged for making a gown for the maid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The colors in the Dutch gowns were uniformly gay. Madam Cornelia de Vos in a
+green cloth petticoat, a red and blue “Haarlamer” waistcoat, a pair of red and
+yellow sleeves, a white cornet cap, green stockings with crimson clocks, and a
+purple “Pooyse” apron was a blooming flower-bed of color.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._Magdalen_Beekman."></a>
+<img src="images/127.jpg" alt="Mrs. Magdalen Beekman." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Magdalen Beekman.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+I fear we have unconsciously formed our mental pictures of our Dutch
+forefathers through the vivid descriptions of Washington Irving. We certainly
+cannot improve upon his account of the Dutch housewife of New Amsterdam:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Their hair, untortured by the abominations of art, was scrupulously pomatumed
+back from their foreheads with a candle, and covered with a little cap of
+quilted calico, which fitted exactly to their heads. Their petticoats of
+linsey-woolsey were striped with a variety of gorgeous dyes, though I must
+confess those gallant garments were rather short, scarce reaching below the
+knee; but then they made up in the number, which generally equalled that of the
+gentlemen’s small-clothes; and what is still more praise-worthy, they were all
+of their own manufacture,—of which circumstance, as may well be supposed, they
+were not a little vain.<br/>
+<br/>
+“Those were the honest days, in which every woman stayed at home, read the
+Bible, and wore pockets,—ay, and that, too, of a goodly size, fashioned with
+patchwork into many curious devices, and ostentatiously worn on the outside.
+These, in fact, were convenient receptacles where all good housewives carefully
+stored away such things as they wished to have at hand; by which means they
+often came to be incredibly crammed.<br/>
+<br/>
+“Besides these notable pockets, they likewise wore scissors and pincushions
+suspended from their girdles by red ribbons, or, among the more opulent and
+showy classes, by brass and even silver chains, indubitable tokens of thrifty
+housewives and industrious spinsters. I cannot say much in vindication of the
+shortness of the petticoats; it doubtless was introduced for the purpose of
+giving the stockings a chance to be seen, which were generally of blue worsted,
+with magnificent red clocks; or perhaps to display a well-turned ankle and a
+neat though serviceable foot, set off by a high-heeled leathern shoe, with a
+large and splendid silver buckle.<br/>
+<br/>
+“There was a secret charm in those petticoats, which no doubt entered into the
+consideration of the prudent gallants. The wardrobe of a lady was in those days
+her only fortune; and she who had a good stock of petticoats and stockings was
+as absolutely an heiress as is a Kamtschatka damsel with a store of bear-skins,
+or a Lapland belle with plenty of reindeer.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A Boston lady, Madam Knights, visiting New York in 1704, wrote also with clear
+pen:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The English go very fashionable in their dress. But the Dutch, especially the
+middling sort, differ from our women, in their habitt go loose, wear French
+muches which are like a Capp and headband in one, leaving their ears bare,
+which are sett out with jewells of a large size and many in number; and their
+fingers hoop’t with rings, some with large stones in them of many Coullers, as
+were their pendants in their ears, which you should see very old women wear as
+well as Young.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The jewels of one settler of New Amsterdam were unusually rich (in 1650), and
+were enumerated thus:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td> &pound;;</td><td> s.</td><td>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One embroidered purse with silver bugle and chain to the girdle and silver hook and eye</td><td>1</td><td>4</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One pair black pendants, gold nocks</td><td></td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One gold boat, wherein thirteen diamonds &amp;; one white coral chain</td><td> 16</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One pair gold stucks or pendants each with ten diamonds</td><td>25</td></tr>
+<tr><td> Two diamond rings</td><td> 24</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One gold ring with clasp beck</td><td></td><td>12</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One gold ring or hoop bound round with diamonds</td><td>2</td><td> 10</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+These jewels were owned by the wife of an English-born citizen; but some of the
+Dutch dames had handsome jewels, especially rich chatelaines with their
+equipages and etuis with rich and useful articles in variety. When we read of
+such articles, we find it difficult to credit the words of an English clergyman
+who visited Albany about the year 1700; namely, that he found the Dutch women
+of best Albany families going about their homes in summer time and doing their
+household work while barefooted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many conditions existed in Maryland which were found nowhere else in the
+colonies. These were chiefly topographical. The bay and its many and
+accommodative tide-water estuaries gave the planters the means, not only of
+easy, cheap, and speedy communication with each other, but with the whole
+world. It was a freedom of intercourse not given to any other
+<i>agricultural</i> community in the whole world. It was said that every
+planter had salt water within a rifle-shot of his front gate—therefore the
+world was open to him. The tide is never strong enough on this shore to hinder
+a sailboat nor is the current of the rivers perceptible. The crop of the
+settlers was wholly tobacco—indeed, all the processes of government, of
+society, of domestic life, began and ended with tobacco. It was a wonderfully
+lucrative crop, but it was an unhappy one for any colony; for the tobacco ships
+arrived in fleets only in May and June, when the crops were ready for market.
+The ships could come in anywhere by tide-water. Hence there were two or three
+months of intense excitement, or jollity, lavishness, extravagance, when these
+ships were in; a regular Bartholomew Fair of disorder, coarse wit, and rough
+fun; and the rest of the year there was nothing; no business, no money, no fun.
+Often the planter found himself after a month of June gambling and fun with
+three years’ crops pledged in advance to his creditors. The factor then played
+his part; took a mortgage, perhaps, on both crops and plantation; and
+invariably ended in owning everything. A striking but coarse picture of the
+traffic and its evils is given in <i>The Sot-weed Factor</i>, a poem of the
+day.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Lady_Anne_Clifford."></a>
+<img src="images/131.jpg" alt="Lady Anne Clifford." />
+<p class="caption">Lady Anne Clifford.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Land and living were cheap in this tobacco land, but labor was needed for the
+sudden crops; so negro slaves were bought, and warm invitations were sent back
+to England for all and every kind of labor. Convicts were welcomed,
+redemptioners were eagerly sought for; and the scrupulous laws which were made
+for their protection were blazoned in England. Many laborers were “crimped,”
+too, in England, and brought of course, willy-nilly, to Maryland. Landlords
+were even granted lands in proportion to their number of servants; a hundred
+acres per capita was the allowance. It can readily be seen that an ambitious or
+unscrupulous planter would gather in in some way as many heads as possible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maryland under the Baltimores was the only colony that then admitted
+convicts—that is, admitted them openly and legally. She even greeted them
+warmly, eager for the labor of their hands, which was often skilled labor;
+welcomed them for their wits, albeit these had often been ill applied; welcomed
+them for their manners, often amply refined; welcomed them for their
+possibilities of rehabilitation of morals and behavior.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The kidnapped servants did not fare badly. Many examples are known where they
+worked on until they had acquired ample means; still the literature of the day
+is full of complaints such as this in <i>The Sot-weed Factor</i>:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Not then a slave; for twice two years<br/>
+My clothes were fashionably new.<br/>
+Nor were my shifts of linen blue.<br/>
+But Things are Changed. Now at the Hoe<br/>
+I daily work; and Barefoot go.<br/>
+In weeding Corn, or feeding Swine<br/>
+I spend my melancholy time.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cheap ballads were sold in England warning English maidens against kidnapping.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the collection of Old Black Letter Ballads in the British Museum is one
+entitled <i>The Trappan’d Maiden or the Distressed Damsel</i>. Its date is
+believed to be 1670.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“The Girl was cunningly trappan’d<br/>
+Sent to Virginny from England.<br/>
+Where she doth Hardship undergo;<br/>
+There is no cure, it must be so;<br/>
+But if she lives to cross the Main<br/>
+She vows she’ll ne’er go there again.<br/>
+  Give ear unto a Maid<br/>
+  That lately was betray’d<br/>
+    And sent unto Virginny O.<br/>
+  In brief I shall declare<br/>
+  What I have suffered there<br/>
+    When that I was weary, O.<br/>
+  The cloathes that I brought in<br/>
+  They are worn so thin<br/>
+    In the Land of Virginny O.<br/>
+  Which makes me for to say<br/>
+  Alas! and well-a-day<br/>
+    When that I was weary, O.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The indentured servant, the redemptioner, or free-willer saw before him, at the
+close of his seven years term, a home in a teeming land; he would own fifty
+acres of that land with three barrels, an axe, a gun, and a hoe—truly, the
+world was his. He would have also a suit of kersey, strong hose, a shirt,
+French fall shoes, and a good hat,—a Monmouth cap,—a suit worthy any man.
+Abigail had an equal start, a petticoat and waistcoat of strong wool, a
+perpetuana or callimaneo, two blue aprons, two linen caps, a pair of new shoes,
+two pairs of new stockings and a smock, and three barrels of Indian corn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We find that many of these redemptioners became soldiers in the colonial wars,
+often distinguished for bravery. This was through a law passed by the British
+government that all who enlisted in military service in the colonies were
+released by that act from further bondage.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Lady_Herrman."></a>
+<img src="images/134.jpg" alt="Lady Herrman." />
+<p class="caption">Lady Herrman.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the year 1659, on an autumn day, two white men with an Indian guide paddled
+swiftly over the waters of Chesapeake Bay on business of much import. They had
+come from Manhattan, and bore despatches from Governor Stuyvesant to the
+governor of Maryland, relating to the ever troublesome query of those days,
+namely, the exact placing of boundary lines. One of these men was Augustine
+Herrman, a man of parts, who had been ambassador to Rhode Island, a ship-owner,
+and man of executive ability, which was proven by his offer to Lord Baltimore
+to draw a map of Maryland and the surrounding country in exchange for a tract
+of land at the head of the bay. He was a land-surveyor, and drew an excellent
+map; and he received the four thousand acres afterwards known as Bohemia Manor.
+His portrait and that of his wife exist; they are wretched daubs, as were many
+of the portraits of the day, but, nevertheless, her dress is plainly revealed
+by it. You can see a copy of it <a href="#Lady_Herrman.">here</a>. The
+overdress, pleated body, and upper sleeve are green. The little lace collar is
+drawn up with a tiny ribbon just as we see collars to-day. Her hair is
+simplicity itself. The full undersleeves and heavy ear-rings give a little
+richness to the dress, which is not English nor is it Dutch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is easy to know the items of the dress of the early Virginian settlers,
+where any court records exist. Many, of course, have perished in the terrible
+devastations of two long wars; but wherever they have escaped destruction all
+the records of church and town in the various counties of Virginia have been
+carefully transcribed and certified, and are open to consultation in the
+Virginia State Library at Richmond, where many of the originals are also
+preserved. Many have also been printed. Mr. Bruce, in his fine book, <i>The
+Economic History of Virginia in the Seventeenth Century</i>, has given frequent
+extracts from these certified records. From them and from the originals I gain
+much knowledge of the dress of the planters at that time. It varied little from
+dress in the New England colonies save that Virginians were richer than New
+Englanders, and so had more costly apparel. Almost nothing was manufactured in
+Virginia. The plainest and simplest articles of dress, save those of homespun
+stuffs, were ordered from England, as well as richer garments. We see even in
+George Washington’s day, until he was prevented by war, that he sent frequent
+orders, wherein elaborately detailed attire was ordered with the pettiest
+articles for household and plantation use.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Elizabeth_Cromwell."></a>
+<img src="images/136.jpg" alt="Elizabeth Cromwell." />
+<p class="caption">Elizabeth Cromwell.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Francis Pritchard of Lancaster, Virginia (in 1660), we find had a
+representative wardrobe. She owned an olive-colored silk petticoat, another of
+silk tabby, and one of flowered tabby, one of velvet, and one of white striped
+dimity. Her printed calico gown was lined with blue silk, thus proving how much
+calico was valued. Other bodices were a striped dimity jacket and a black silk
+waistcoat. To wear with these were a pair of scarlet sleeves and other sleeves
+of ruffled holland. Five aprons, various neckwear of Flanders lace, and several
+rich handkerchiefs completed a gay costume to which green silk stockings gave
+an additional touch of color. Green was distinctly the favorite color for hose
+among all the early settlers; and nearly all the inventories in Virginia have
+that entry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Sarah Willoughby of Lower Norfolk, Virginia, had at the same date a like
+gay wardrobe, valued, however, at but &pound;;14. Petticoats of calico, striped
+linen, India silk, worsted prunella, and red, blue, and black silk were
+accompanied with scarlet waistcoats with silver lace, a white knit waistcoat, a
+“pair of red paragon bodices,” and another pair of sky-colored satin bodices.
+She had also a striped stuff jacket, a worsted prunella mantle, and a black
+silk gown. There were distinctions in the shape of the outer garments—mantles,
+jackets, and gowns. Hoods, aprons, and bands completed her comfortable attire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though so much of the clothing of the Virginia planters was made in England,
+there was certain work done by home tailors; such work as repairs, alterations,
+making children’s common clothing, and the like, also the clothing of upper
+servants. Often the tailor himself was a bond-servant. Thus, Luke Mathews, a
+tailor from Hereford, England, was bound to Thomas Landon for a term of two
+years from the day he landed. He was to have sixpence a day while working for
+the Landon family, but when working for other persons half of whatever he
+earned. In the Lancaster County records is a tailor’s account (one Noah Rogers)
+from the year 1690 to 1709; it was paid, of course, in tobacco. We may set the
+tobacco as worth about twopence a pound. It will be thus seen from the
+following items that prices in Virginia were higher than in New England:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td>Pounds</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For making seven womens’ Jacketts</td><td>70</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For making a Coat for y’r Wife</td><td>60</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For altering a Plush Britches</td><td>20</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For Y’r Wife &amp;; Daughturs Jackett</td><td>30</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For y’r Britches</td><td>20</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Coat</td><td>40</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Y’r Boys Jacketts</td><td>20</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Y’r Sons britches</td><td>25</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Y’r Eldest Sons Ticking Suite</td><td>60</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To making I Dimity Waistcoat, Serge suite 2 Cotton</td></tr>
+<tr><td>    Waistcoats and y’r Dimity Coat</td><td>185</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For a pr of buff Gloves</td><td>100</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For I Neck Cloth</td><td>12</td></tr>
+<tr><td>A pr of Stockings</td><td>120</td></tr>
+<tr><td>A pr Callimmaneo britches</td><td>60</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+Another bill of the year 1643 reads:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td>Pounds</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To making a suit with buttons to it</td><td>80</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 ell canvas</td><td>30</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for dimothy linings</td><td>30</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for buttons &amp;; silke</td><td>50</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for points</td><td>50</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for taffeta</td><td>58</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for belly pieces</td><td>40</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for hooks &amp;; eies</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for ribbonin for pockets</td><td>20</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for stiffinin for a collar</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td>—-</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td>Sum 378</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+The extraordinary prices of one hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco for making
+a pair of stockings, and one hundred for a pair of gloves, when making a coat
+was but forty, must remain a seventeenth-century puzzle. This coat was probably
+a petticoat. It is curious, too, to find a tailor making gloves and stockings
+at any price. I think both buff gloves and stockings were of leather. Perhaps
+he charged thus broadly because it was “not in his line.” Work in leather was
+always well paid. We find tailors making leather breeches and leather drawers;
+the latter could not be the garments thus named to-day. Tailors became
+prosperous and well-to-do, perhaps because they worked in winter when other
+Virginia tradesfolk were idle; and they acquired large tracts of land.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The conditions of settlement of Virginia were somewhat different from those of
+the planting of New England. We find the land of many Massachusetts towns
+wholly taken up by a group of settlers who emigrated together from the Old
+World and gathered into a town together in the New. It was like the transferal
+of a neighborhood. It brought about many happy results of mutual helpfulness
+and interdependence. From it arose that system of domestic service in which the
+children of friends rendered helpful duty in other households and were called
+help. Nothing of the kind existed in Virginia. There was far less neighborhood
+life. Plantations were isolated. Lines of demarcation in domestic service were
+much more definite where black life slaves and white bond-servants for a term
+of years performed all household service. For the daughter of one Virginia
+household to “help” in the work in another household was unknown. Each system
+had its benefits; each had its drawbacks. Neither has wholly survived; but
+something better has been evolved, in spite of our lamentations for the good
+old times.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Life is better ordered, but it is not so picturesque as when negro servants
+swarmed in the kitchen, and German, Scotch, and Irish redemptioners served in
+varied callings. There was vast variety of attire to be found on the Virginia
+and Maryland plantations and in the few towns of these colonies. The black
+slaves wore homespun cloths and homespun stuff, crocus and Virginia cloth; and
+the women were happy if they could crown their simple attire with gay turbans.
+Indians stalked up to the plantation doors, halted in silence, and added their
+gay dress of the wild woods. German sectaries and mystics fared on garbed in
+their simple peasant dress. Irish sturdy beggars idled and fiddled through
+existence, in dress of shabby gentility, with always a wig. “Wild-Irish” came
+in brogues and Irish trousers. Sailors and pirates came ashore gayly dressed in
+varied costume, with gay sashes full of pistols and cutlasses, swaggering from
+wharf to plantation. Queer details of dress had all these varied souls; some
+have lingered to puzzle us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A year ago I had sent to me, by a descendant of an old Virginia family, a
+photograph of a curious gold medal or disk, a family relic which was evidently
+a token of some importance, since it bore tiny holes and had marks of having
+been affixed as an insignia. Though I could decipher the bold initials, cut in
+openwork, I could judge little by the colorless photograph, and finally with
+due misgivings and great precautions in careful packing, insurance, etc., the
+priceless family relic was intrusted to an express company for transmission to
+my inspection. Glad indeed was I that the owner had not presented it in person;
+for the decoration of honor, the insignia of rank, the trophy of prowess in war
+or emblem of conquest in love, was the pauper’s badge of a Maryland or Virginia
+parish. It was not a pleasant task to write back the mortifying news; but I am
+proud of the letter which I composed; no one could have done the deed better.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was an old law in Virginia which ran thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Every person who shall receive relief from the parish and be sent to the said
+alms-house, shall, upon the shoulder of the right sleeve of his uppermost
+garment in an open and visible manner, wear a badge with the name of the parish
+to which he or she belongs, cut in red, blue or green cloth, as the vestry or
+church wardens shall direct. And if any poor person shall neglect or refuse to
+wear such badge, such offense may be punished either by ordering his or her
+allowance to be abridged, suspended or withdrawn, or the offender to be whipped
+not exceeding five lashes for one offense; and if any person not entitled to
+relief as aforesaid, shall presume to wear such badge, he or she shall be
+whipped for every such offense.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This law did not mean the full name of the parish, but significant initials.
+Sometimes the initials “P P” were employed, standing for public pauper. In
+other counties a metal badge was ordered, often cast in pewter. In one case a
+die-cutter was made by which an oblong brass badge could be cut, and stamps of
+letters to stamp the badges accompanied it. Sometimes these badges were three
+inches long.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The expression, “the badge of poverty,” became a literal one when all persons
+receiving parochial relief had to wear a large Roman “P” with the initial of
+their parish set on the right sleeve of the uppermost garment in an open and
+visible manner. Likewise all pensioners were ordered to wear their badges “so
+they may be seen.” A pauper who refused to do this might be whipped and
+imprisoned for twenty-one days. Moreover, if the parish beadle neglected to spy
+out that the badge was missing from some poor pensioner, he had to pay half a
+crown himself. This legality was necessitated by actions like that of the
+English goody, who, when ordered to wear this pauper’s badge, demurely fastened
+it to her flannel petticoat. For this law, like all the early Virginia
+statutes, was simply a transcript of English laws. In New York, for some years
+in the eighteenth century, the parish poor—there were no paupers—were ordered
+to wear these badges.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This mode of stigmatizing offenders as well as paupers was in force in the
+earlier days of all the colonies. Its existence in New England has been
+immortalized in <i>The Scarlet Letter</i>. I have given in my book, <i>Curious
+Punishments of By-gone Days</i>, many examples of the wearing of significant
+letters by criminals in various New England towns, in Plymouth, Salem, Taunton,
+Boston, Hartford, New London, also in New York. It offered a singular and
+striking detail of costume to see William Bacon in Boston, and Robert Coles in
+Roxbury, wearing “hanged about their necks on their outerd garment a D made of
+Ridd cloth sett on white.” A Boston woman wore a great “B,” not for Boston, but
+for blasphemy. John Davis wore a “V” for viciousness. Others were forced to
+wear for years a heavy cord around the neck, signifying that the offender lived
+under the shadow of the gallows and its rope.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But return we to the metal badge which has caused this diversion to so gloomy a
+subject as crime and punishment. It was simply an oblong plate about three and
+one-half inches long, of humble metal—pinchbeck, or alchemy—but plated heavily
+with gold, therefore readily mistaken for solid gold; upon it the telltale
+initials “P P” had been stamped with a die, while smaller letters read “St. J.
+Psh.” These confirmed my immediate suspicions, for I had seen an order of
+relief for a stricken wanderer—an order for two weeks’ relief, where the
+wardens of “St. J. Psh.” ordered the sheriff to send the pauper on—to make him
+“move along” to some other parish. This gold badge was not unlike the metal
+badges worn on the left arm by “Bedlam beggars,” the licensed beggars of
+Bethlehem Hospital, the half-cured patients of that asylum for lunatics.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The owner of this badge with ancient letters had not idly accepted them, or
+jumped at the conclusion that it was a decoration of honor for his ancestor. He
+had searched its history long, and he had found in Hall’s <i>Chronicles of the
+Pageants and Progress of the English Kings</i> ample reference to similar
+letters, but not as pauper’s badges. Indeed, like many another well-read and
+intelligent person, he had never heard of pauper’s badges. He read:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“In this garden was the King and five with him apparyelled in garments of
+purpull satyn, every edge garnished with frysed golde and every garment full of
+posyes made of letters of fine gold, of bullion as thick as might be. And six
+Ladyes wore rochettes rouled with crymosyn velvet and set with lettres like
+Carettes. And after the Kyng and his compaignions had daunsed, he appointed the
+Ladies, Gentlewomen, and Ambassadours to take the lettres off their garments in
+token of liberalyte. Which thing the common people perceiving, ranne to them
+and stripped them. And at this banket a shypman of London caught certayn
+lettres which he sould to a goldsmith for &pound;;3. 14s. 8d.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+All this was pleasing to the vanity of our friend, who fancied his letters as
+having taken part in a like pageant; perhaps as a gift of the king himself. We
+must remember that he believed his badge of pure gold. He did not know it was a
+base metal, plated. He proudly pictured his forbears taking part in some kingly
+pageant. He scorned so modern and commonplace a possibility as a society like
+Knights of the Golden Horseshoe, which was formed of Virginian gentlefolk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It plainly was a relic of some romance, and in the strangely picturesque events
+of the early years in this New World need not, though a pauper’s badge, have
+been a badge of dishonor. What strange event or happening, or scene had it
+overlooked? Why had it been covered with its golden sheet? Was it in defiance
+or in satire, in remorse, or in revenge, or in humble and grateful recognition
+of some strange and protecting Providence? We shall never know. It was
+certainly not an agreeable discovery, to think that your great-grandmother or
+grandfather had probably been branded as a public pauper; but there were
+strange exiles and strange paupers in those days, exiles through political
+parties, through the disfavor of kings, through religious conviction, and the
+pauper of the golden badge, the pauper of “St. J. Psh.,” may have ended his
+days as vestryman of that very church. Certain it was, that no ordinary pauper
+would have, or could have, thus preserved it; and from similar reverses and
+glorifying equally base objects came the subjects of half the crests of English
+heraldry.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Pocahontas."></a>
+<img src="images/146.jpg" alt="Pocahontas." />
+<p class="caption">Pocahontas.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The likeness of Pocahontas (<a href="#Pocahontas.">here</a>) is dated 1616. It
+is in the dress of a well-to-do Englishwoman, a woman of importance and means.
+This portrait has been a shock to many who idealized the Indian princess as
+“that sweet American girl” as Thackeray called her. Especially is it
+disagreeable in many of the common prints from it. One flippant young friend,
+the wife of an army officer, who had been stationed in the far West, said of
+it, in disgust, remembering her frontier residence, “With a man’s hat on! just
+like every old Indian squaw!” This hat is certainly displeasing, but it was not
+worn through Indian taste; it was an English fashion, seen on women of wealth
+as well as of the plainer sort. I have a score of prints and photographs of
+English portraits, wherein this mannish hat is shown. In the original of this
+portrait of Pocahontas, the heavy, sombre effect is much lightened by the gold
+hatband. These rich hatbands were one of the articles of dress prohibited as
+vain and extravagant by the Massachusetts magistrates. They were costly
+luxuries. We find them named and valued in many inventories in all the
+colonies, and John Pory, secretary of the Virginia colony, wrote about that
+time to a friend in England a sentence which has given, I think to all who read
+it, an exaggerated notion of the dress of Virginians:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Our cowekeeper here of James citty on Sundays goes accoutred all in ffreshe
+fflaminge silke, and a wife of one that had in England professed the blacke
+arte not of a Scholler but of a Collier weares her rough beaver hatt with a
+faire perle hatband, and a silken sute there to correspond.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Corroborative evidence of the richness and great cost of these hatbands is
+found in a letter of Susan Moseley to Governor Yardley of Virginia, telling of
+the exchange of a hatband and jewel for four young cows, one older cow and four
+oxen, on account of her “great want of cattle.” She writes on “this Last July
+1650, at Elizabeth River in Virginia”:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I had rayther your wife should weare them then any gentle woman I yet know in
+ye country; but good Sir have <i>no</i> scruple concerninge their rightnesse,
+for I went my selfe from Rotterdam to ye haugh (The Hague) to inquire of ye
+gould smiths and found y’t they weare all Right, therefore thats without
+question, and for ye hat band y’t alone coste five hundred gilders as my
+husband knows verry well and will tell you soe when he sees you; for ye Juell
+and ye ringe they weare made for me at Rotterdam and I paid in good rex dollars
+sixty gilders for ye Juell and fivety and two gilders for ye ringe, which comes
+to in English monny eleaven poundes fower shillings. I have sent the sute and
+Ringe by your servant, and I wish Mrs. Yeardley health and prosperity to weare
+them in, and give you both thanks for your kind token. When my husband comes
+home we will see to gett ye Cattell home, in ye meantime I present my Love and
+service to your selfe &amp;; wife, and commit you all to God, and remaine,<br/>
+<br/>
+    “Your friend and servant,<br/>
+<br/>
+         “SUSAN MOSELEY.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The purchasing value of five hundred guilders, the cost of the hatband, would
+be equal to-day to nearly a thousand dollars.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the portrait of Pocahontas in the original, there is also much liveliness of
+color, a rich scarlet with heavy braidings; these all lessen somewhat the
+forbidding presence of the stiff hat. She carries a fan of ostrich feathers,
+such as are depicted in portraits of Queen Elizabeth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These feather fans had little looking-glasses of silvered glass or polished
+steel set at the base of the feathers. Euphues says, “The glasses you carry in
+fans of feathers show you to be lighter than feathers; the new-found glass
+chains that you wear about your necks, argue you to be more brittle than
+glass.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These fans were, in the queen’s hands, as large as hand fire-screens; many were
+given to her as New Year’s gifts or other tokens, one by Sir Francis Drake.
+This makes me believe that they were a fashion taken from the North American
+Indians and eagerly adopted in England; where, for two centuries, everything
+related to the red-men of the New World was seized upon with avidity—except
+their costume.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The hat worn by Pocahontas, or a lower crowned form of it, is seen in the
+Hollar drawing of Puritan women (<a
+href="#Costumes_of_Englishwomen_of_the_Seventeenth_Century.">here</a>), where
+it seems specially ugly and ineffective, and on the Quaker Tub-preacher. It
+lingered for many years, perched on top of French hoods, close caps, kerchiefs,
+and other variety of head-gear worn by women of all ranks; never elegant, never
+becoming. I can think of no reason for its long existence and dominance save
+its costliness. It was not imitated, so it kept its place as long as the supply
+of beaver was ample. This hat was also durable. A good beaver hat was not for a
+year nor even for a generation. It lasted easily half a century. But we all
+know that the beaver disappeared suddenly from our forests; and as a sequence
+the beaver hat was no longer available for common wear. It still held its place
+as a splendid, feather-trimmed, rich article of dress, a hat for dress wear,
+and it was then comely and becoming. Within a few years, through national and
+state protection, the beaver, most interesting of wild creatures, has increased
+and multiplied in North America until it has become in certain localities a
+serious pest to lumbermen. We must revive the fashion of real beaver hats—that
+will speedily exterminate the race.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Duchess_of_Buckingham_and_her_Two_Children."></a>
+<img src="images/150.jpg" alt="Duchess of Buckingham and her Two Children." />
+<p class="caption">Duchess of Buckingham and her Two Children.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It always has seemed strange to me that, in the prodigious interest felt in
+England for the American Indian, an interest shown in the thronging, gaping
+sight-seers that surrounded every taciturn red-man who visited the Old World,
+no fashions of ornament or dress were copied as gay, novel, or becoming. The
+Indian afforded startling detail to interest the most jaded fashion-seeker. The
+<i>Works of Captain John Smith</i>, Strachey’s <i>Historie of Travaile into
+Virginia</i>, the works of Roger Williams, of John Josselyn, the letters of
+various missionaries, give full accounts of their brilliant attire; and many of
+these works were illustrated. The beautiful mantles of the Virginia squaws,
+made of carefully dressed skins, were tastefully fringed and embroidered with
+tiny white beads and minute disks of copper, like spangles, which, with the
+buff of the dressed skin, made a charming color-study—copper and buff—picked
+out with white. Sometimes small brilliant shells or feathers were added to the
+fringes. An Indian princess, writes one chronicler, wore a fair white deerskin
+with a frontal of white coral and pendants of “great but imperfect-colored and
+worse-drilled pearls”—our modern baroque pearls. A chain of linked copper
+encircled her neck; and her maid brought to her a mantle called a “puttawas” of
+glossy blue feathers sewed so thickly and evenly that it seemed like heavy
+purple satin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A traveller wrote thus of an Indian squaw and brave:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“His wife was very well favored, of medium stature and very bashful. She had on
+her back a long cloak of leather, with the fur side next to her body. About her
+forehead she had a band of white coral. In her ears she had bracelets of pearls
+hanging down to her waist. The rest of her women of the better sort had
+pendants of copper hanging in either ear, and some of the children of the
+King’s brother and other noblemen, had five or six in either ear. He himself
+had upon his head a broad plate of gold or copper, for being unpolished we knew
+not which metal it might be, neither would he by any means suffer us to take it
+off his head. His apparel was like his wife’s, only the women wear their hair
+long on both sides of the head, and the men on but one side. They are of color
+yellowish, and their hair black for the most part, and yet we saw children who
+had very fine auburn and chestnut colored hair.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+John Josselyn wrote of tawny beauties:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“They are girt about the middle with a Zone wrought with Blue and White Beads
+into Pretty Works. Of these Beads they have Bracelets for the Neck and Arms,
+and Links to hang in their Ears, and a Fair Table curiously made up with Beads
+Likewise to wear before their Breast. Their Hair they combe backward, and tye
+it up short with a Border about two Handsfull broad, wrought in works as the
+Other with their Beads.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Powhatan’s “Habit” still exists. It is in England, in the Tradescant Collection
+which formed the nucleus of the Ashmolean Collection. It was probably presented
+by Captain John Smith himself. It is made of two deerskins ornamented with
+“roanoke” shell-work, about seven feet long by five feet wide. Roanoke is akin
+to wampum, but this is made of West Indian shells. The figures are circles, a
+crude human figure and two mythical composite animals. He also wore fine
+mantles of raccoon skins. A conjurer’s dress was simply a girdle with a single
+deerskin, while a great blackbird with outstretched wings was fastened to one
+ear—a striking ornament. I am always delighted to read such proof as this of a
+fact that I have ever known, namely, that the American Indian is the most
+accomplished, the most telling <i>poseur</i> the world has ever known. The ear
+of the Indian man and woman was pierced along the entire outer edge and filled
+with long drops, a fringe of coral, gold, and pearl. The wives of Powhatan wore
+triple strings of great pearls close around their throats, and a long string
+over one shoulder, while their mantles were draped to show their full handsome
+neck and arms. Altogether, with their carefully dressed hair, they would have
+made in full dress a fine show in a modern opera-box, and, indeed, the Indian
+squaws did cause vast exhibition of curiosity and delight when they visited
+London and were taken sight-seeing and sight-seen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As early as 1629 an Indian chief with his wife and son came from Nova Scotia to
+England. Lord Poulet paid them much attention in Somersetshire, and Lady Poulet
+took Lady Squaw up to London and gave her a necklace and a diamond, which I
+suppose she wore with her blue and white beads.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Be the story of the saving of John Smith by Pocahontas a myth or the truth, it
+forever lives a beautiful and tender reality in the hearts of American
+children. Pocahontas was not the only Indian squaw who played a kindly part in
+the first colonization of this country. There were many, though their deeds and
+names are forgotten; and there was one Indian woman whose influence was much
+greater and more prolonged than was that of Pocahontas, and was haloed with
+many years of exciting adventure as well as romance. Let me recount a few
+details of her life, that you may wonder with me that the only trace of Indian
+life marked indelibly on England was found on the swinging signs of inns known
+by the name of “The Bell Savage,” “La Belle Sauvage,” and even “The Savage and
+Bell.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This second Indian squaw was a South Carolina neighbor of our beloved
+Pocahontas; she had not, alas, the lovely disposition and noble character of
+Powhatan’s daughter. She was systematically and constitutionally mischievous,
+like a rogue elephant, so I call her a rogue squaw. Her name was
+Coosaponakasee. The name is too long and too hard to say with frequency, so we
+will do as did her English friends and foes—call her Mary. Indeed, she was
+baptized Mary, for she was a half-breed, and her white father had her reared
+like a Christian, had her educated like an English girl as far as could be done
+in the little primitive settlement of Ponpon, South Carolina. It will be shown
+that the attempt was not over-successful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was a princess, the niece of crafty old Brim, the king of two powerful
+tribes of Georgia Indians, the Creeks and Uchees. In 1715, when she was about
+fifteen years old, a fierce Indian war broke out in the early spring, and at
+the defeat of the Indians she promptly left her school and her church and went
+out into the wilds, a savage among savages, preferring defeat and a wild summer
+in the woods with her own people to decorous victory within doors with her
+fellow Christians.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="AWomansDoubletMrsAnneTurner"></a>
+<img src="images/155.jpg" alt="A Woman’s Doublet." />
+<p class="caption">A Woman’s Doublet. Mrs. Anne Turner.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The following year an Englishman, Colonel John Musgrove, accompanied by his
+son, went out as a mediator to the Creek Indians to secure their friendship, or
+at any rate their neutrality. The young squaw, Mary, served as interpreter, and
+the younger English pacificator promptly proved his amicable disposition by
+falling in love with her. He did what was more unusual, he married her; and
+soon they set up a large trading-house on the Savannah River, where they
+prospered beyond belief. On the arrival of the shipload of emigrants sent out
+by the Trustees of Georgia the English found Mary Musgrove and her husband
+already carrying on a large trade, in securing and transacting which she had
+served as interpreter. When Oglethorpe landed, he at once went to her, and
+asked permission to settle near her trading-station. She welcomed him, helped
+him, interpreted for him, and kept things in general running smoothly in the
+settlement between the English and the Indians. The two became close friends,
+and as long as generous but confiding Oglethorpe remained, all went well in the
+settlement; but in time he returned to England, giving her a handsome diamond
+ring in token of his esteem. Her husband died soon after and she removed to a
+new station called Mount Venture. Oglethorpe shortly wrote of her:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I find that there is the utmost endeavour by the Spaniards to destroy her
+because she is of consequence and in the King’s interests; therefor it is the
+business of the King’s friends to support her; besides which I shall always be
+desirous to serve her out of the friendship she has shown me as well as the
+colony.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In a letter of John Wesley’s written to Lady Oglethorpe, and now preserved in
+the Georgia Historical Society, he refers frequently to Mary Musgrove, saying:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I had with me an interpreter the half-breed, Mary Musgrove, and daily had
+meetings for instruction and prayer. One woman was baptized. She was of them
+who came out of great tribulation, her husband and all her three children
+having been drowned four days before in crossing the Ogeechee River. Her
+happiness in the gospel caused me to feel that, like Job, the widow’s heart had
+been caused to sing for joy. She was married again the day following her
+baptism. I suggested longer days of mourning. She replied that her first
+husband was surely dead; and that his successor was of much substance, owning a
+cornfield and gun. I doubt the interpreter Mary Musgrove, that she is yet in
+the valley and shadow of darkness.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+One can picture the excitement of the Choctaw squaw to lose her husband and
+children, and to get another husband and religion in a week’s time. Her reply
+that her husband “was surely dead” bears a close resemblance to the hackneyed
+story of the response to a charivari query of the Dutch bridegroom who had been
+a widower but a week, “Ain’t my vife as deadt as she ever vill be?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her usefulness continued. If a “talk” were had with the Indians in Savannah,
+Fredonia, or any other settlement, Mary had to be sent for; if Indian warriors
+had to be hired, to keep an army against the Spanish or marauding Indians, Mary
+obtained them from her own people. If land were bought of the Indians, Mary
+made the trade. She soon married Captain Matthews, who had been sent out with a
+small English troop to protect her trading-post; he also speedily died, leaving
+her free, after alliances with trade and war, to find a third husband in
+ecclesiastical circles, in the person of one Chaplain Bosomworth, a parson of
+much pomposity and ambition, and of liberal education without a liberal brain.
+He had had a goodly grant of lands to prompt and encourage him in his
+missionary endeavors; and he was under the direction and protection of the
+Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. His mission was to convert the
+Indians, and he began by marrying one; he then proceeded to break the law by
+bringing in the first load of negro slaves in that colony, a trade which was
+positively prohibited by the conditions and laws of the colony. When his
+illegal traffic was stopped, he got his wife to send in back claims to the
+colony of Georgia for $25,000 as interpreter, mediator, agent, etc., for the
+English. She had already been paid about a thousand dollars. This demand being
+promptly refused, the hitherto pacific and friendly Mary, edged on by that
+sorry specimen of a parson, her husband, began a series of annoying and
+extraordinary capers. She declared herself empress of Georgia, and after
+sending her half-brother, a full-blooded Indian, as an advance-courier, she
+came with a body of Indians to Savannah. The Rev. Thomas Bosomworth, decked in
+full canonical robes, headed the Indians by the side of his empress wife,
+dressed in Indian costume; and an imposing procession they made, with plenty of
+theatrical color. At first the desperate colonists thought of seizing Mary and
+shipping her off to England to Oglethorpe, but this notion was abandoned. As
+the English soldiers were very few at that special time, and the Indian
+warriors many, we can well believe that the colonists were well scared, the
+more so that when the Indians were asked the reason of their visit, “their
+answers were very trifling and very dark.” So a feast was offered them, but
+Mary and her brother refused to come and to eat; and the dinner was scarcely
+under way when more armed Indians appeared from all quarters in the streets,
+running up and down in an uproar, and the town was in great confusion. The
+alarm drums were beaten, and it was reported that the Indians had cut off the
+head of the president as they sat together at the feast. Every man in the
+colony turned out in full arms for duty, the women and children gathered in
+groups in their homes in unspeakable terror. Then the president and his
+assistants who had been at the dinner, and who had gone unarmed to show their
+friendly intent, did what they should have done in the beginning, seized that
+disreputable specimen of an English missionary, the Rev. Mr. Bosomworth, and
+put him in prison; and we wonder they kept their hands off him as long as they
+did. Still trying to settle the matter without bloodshed, the president asked
+the Indian chiefs to adjourn to his house “to drink a glass of wine and talk
+the matter over.” Into this conference came Mary, bereft of her husband, raging
+like a madwoman, threatening the lives of the magistrates, swearing she would
+annihilate the colony. “A fig for your general,” screamed she, “you own not a
+foot of land in this colony. The whole earth is mine.” Whereupon the Empress of
+Georgia, too, was placed under military guard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then a harassing week of apprehension ensued; the Indians were fed, and
+parleyed with, and reasoned with, and explained to. At last Mary’s brother
+Malatche, at a conference, presented as a final demand a paper setting forth
+plainly the claims of the Indians. The sequel of this presentation is almost
+comic. The paper was so evidently the production of Bosomworth, and so wholly
+for his own personal benefit and not for that of the Indians, and the
+astonishment of the president and his council was so great at his vast and open
+assumption, that the Indians were bewildered in turn by the strange and
+unexpected manner of the white men upon reading the paper; and childishly
+begged to have the paper back again “to give to him who made it.” A plain
+exposition of Bosomworth’s greed and craft followed, and all seemed amicably
+explained and settled, and the Creeks offered to smoke the pipe of peace; when
+in came Mary, having escaped her guards, full of rum and of rancor. The
+president said to her in a low voice that unless she ceased brawling and
+quarrelling he would at once put her into close confinement; she turned in a
+rage to her brother, and translated the threat. He and every Indian in the room
+sprang to their feet, drew tomahawks, and for a short time a complete massacre
+was imminent. Then the captain of the guard, Captain Noble Jones, who had
+chafed under all this explaining diplomacy, lost his much-tried patience, and
+like a brave and fearless English soldier ordered the Indians to surrender
+arms. Though far greater in number than the English, they yielded to his
+intrepidity and wrath; and the following night and day they sneaked out of the
+town, as ordered, by twos and threes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For one month this fright and commotion and expense had existed; and at last
+wholly alone were left the two contemptible malcontents and instigators of it
+all. Mr. and Mrs. Bosomworth thereafter ate very humble pie; he begged sorely
+and cried tearfully to be forgiven; and he wailed so deeply and promised so
+broadly that at last the two were publicly pardoned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yet, after all, they had their own way; for they soon went to London and cut an
+infinitely fine figure there. Mary was the top of the mode, and there
+Bosomworth managed to get for his wife lands and coin to the amount of about a
+hundred thousand dollars.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The prosperous twain returned to America in triumph, and built a curious and
+large house on an island they had acquired; in it the Empress did not long
+reign; at her death the Rev. Mr. Bosomworth married his chambermaid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Such is the sorry tale of the Indian squaw and the English parson, a tale the
+more despicable because, though she had been reared in English ways, baptized
+in the English faith, had been the friend of English men and women, and married
+three English husbands; yet when fifty years old she returned at vicious
+suggestion with promptitude and fierceness to violent savage ways, to incite a
+massacre of her friends. And that suggestion came not from her barbarian kin,
+but from an English gentleman—a Christian priest.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER</h3>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<i>“Things farre-fetched and deare-bought are good for Ladies.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Arte of English Poesie,” G. PUTTENHAM, 1589.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“I honour a Woman that can honour herself with her Attire. A good Text
+deserves a Fair Margent.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“The Simple Cobbler of Agawam,” J. WARD, 1713.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="95" src="images/initialt.jpg" alt="T" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+here was a certain family prominent in affairs in the seventeenth and
+eighteenth centuries, with members resident in England, New England, and the
+Barbadoes. They were gentlefolk—and gentle folk; they were of birth and
+breeding; and they were kindly, tender, affectionate to one another. They were
+given to much letter-writing, and better still to much letter-keeping. Knowing
+the quality of their letters, I cannot wonder at either habit; for the
+prevalence of the letter-keeping was due, I am sure, to the perfection of the
+writing. Their letters were ever lively in diction, direct and lucid in
+description, and widely varied in interest; therefore they were well worthy of
+preservation, simply for the owner’s re-reading. They have proved so for all
+who have brushed the dust from the packages and deciphered the faded words.
+Moreover, these letters are among the few family letters of our two centuries
+which convey, either to the original reader or to his successor of to-day,
+anything that could, by most generous construction or fullest imagination, be
+deemed equivalent to what we now term News.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of course their epistles contained many moral reflections and ample religious
+allusions and aspirations; and they even transcribed to each other, in full,
+long Biblical quotations with as much exactness and length as if each deemed
+his correspondent a benighted heathen, with no Bible to consult, instead of
+being an equally pious kinsman with a Bible in every room of his house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Their name was Hall. The heads of the family in early colonial days were the
+merchants John Hall and Hugh Hall; these surnames have continued in the family
+till the present time, as has the cunning of hand and wit of brain in
+letter-writing, even into the seventh and eighth generation, as I can
+abundantly testify from my own private correspondence. I have quoted freely in
+several of my books from old family letters and business letter-books of the
+Hall family. Many of these letters have been intrusted to me from the family
+archives; others, especially the business letters, have found their way,
+through devious paths, to our several historical societies; where they have
+been lost in oblivion, hidden through churlishness, displayed in pride, or
+offered in helpfulness, as suited the various humors of their custodians. To
+the safe, wise, and generous guardianship of the American Antiquarian Society
+fell a collection of letters of the years 1663 to 1684, written from London by
+the merchant John Hall to his mother, Madam Rebekah Symonds, who, after a
+fourth matrimonial venture,—successful, as were all her marriages,—was living,
+in what must have seemed painful seclusion to any Londoner, in the struggling
+little New England hamlet of Ipswich, Massachusetts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I wish to note as a light-giving fact in regard to these letters that the Halls
+were as happy in marrying as in letter-writing, and as assiduous. They married
+early; they married late. And by each marriage increased wonderfully either the
+number of descendants, or of influential family connections, who were often
+also business associates.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madam Symonds had four excellent husbands, more than her share of good fortune.
+She married Henry Byley in 1636; John Hall in 1641; William Worcester in 1650;
+and Deputy Governor Symonds in 1663. She was, therefore, in 1664, scarcely more
+than a bride (if one may be so termed for the fourth time), when many costly
+garments were sent to her by her devoted and loving son, John Hall; she was
+then about forty-eight years of age. Her husband, Governor Symonds, was a
+gentle and noble old Puritan gentleman, a New Englishman of the best type; a
+Christian of missionary spirit who wrote that he “could go singing to his
+grave” if he felt sure that the poor benighted Indians were won to Christ. His
+stepson, John Hall, never failed in respectful and affectionate messages to him
+and sedately appropriate gifts, such as “men’s knives.” Governor Symonds had
+two sons and six married daughters by two—or three—previous marriages. He died
+in Boston in 1678.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A triangle of mutual helpfulness and prosperity was formed by England, New
+England, and the Barbadoes in this widespread relationship of the Hall family
+in matrimony, business, kin, and friendly allies. England sent to the Barbadoes
+English trading-stuffs and judiciously cheap and attractive trinkets. The
+islands sent to New England sugar and molasses, and also the young children
+born in the islands, to be educated in Boston schools ere they went to English
+universities, or were presented in the English court and London society. There
+was one school in Boston established expressly for the children of the
+Barbadoes planters. You may read in a later chapter upon the dress of old-time
+children of some naughty grandchildren of John Hall who were sent to this
+Boston school and to the care of another oft-married grandmother. In this
+triangle, New England returned to the Barbadoes non-perishable and most
+lucrative rum and salt codfish—codfish for the many fast-days of the Roman
+Catholic Church; New England rum to exchange with profit for slaves, coffee,
+and sugar. The Barbadoes and New England sent good, solid Spanish coin to
+England, both for investment and domestic purchases; and England sent to New
+England what is of value to us in this book—the latest fashions.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="A_Puritan_Dame."></a>
+<img src="images/166.jpg" alt="A Puritan Dame." />
+<p class="caption">A Puritan Dame.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+When I ponder on the conditions of life in Ipswich at the time these letters
+were written—the few good houses, the small amount of tilled land, the entire
+lack of all the elegancies of social life; when I think upon the proximity and
+ferocity of the Indian tribes and the ever present terror of their invasion;
+when I picture the gloom, the dread, the oppression of the vast, close-lying,
+primeval forest,—then the rich articles of dress and elaborate explanation of
+the modes despatched by John Hall to his mother would seem more than
+incongruous, they would be ridiculous, did I not know what a factor dress was
+in public life in that day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poor Madam Symonds dreaded deeply lest The Plague be sent to her in her fine
+garments from London; and her dutiful son wrote her to have no fear, that he
+bought her finery himself, in safe shops, from reliable dealers, and kept all
+for a month in his own home where none had been infected. But she must have had
+fear of disaster and death more intimately menacing to her home than was The
+Plague.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had seen the career of genial Master Rowlandson, a neighbor’s son, full of
+naughtiness, fun, and life. While an undergraduate at Harvard College he had
+written in doggerel what was termed pompously a “scandalous libell,” and he had
+pinned it on the door of Ipswich Meeting-house, along with the tax-collector’s
+and road-mender’s notices and the announcement of intending marriages, and the
+grinning wolves’ heads brought for reward. For this prank he had been soundly
+whipped by the college president on the College Green; but it did not prevent
+his graduating with honor at the head of his class. He was valedictorian,
+class-orator, class-poet—in fact, I may say that he had full honors. (I have to
+add also that in his case honors were easy; for his class, of the year 1652,
+had but one graduate, himself.) The gay, mischievous boy had become a faithful,
+zealous, noble preacher to the Puritan church in the neighboring town of
+Lancaster; and in one cruel night, in 1676, his home was destroyed, the whole
+town made desolate, his parishioners slaughtered, and his wife, Esther
+Rowlandson, carried off by the savage red-men, from whom she was bravely
+rescued by my far-off grandfather, John Hoar. Read the thrilling story of her
+“captivation” and rescue, and then think of Madam Symonds’s finery in her gilt
+trunk in the near-by town. For four years the valley of the
+Nashua—blood-stained, fire-blackened—lay desolate and unsettled before Madam
+Symonds’s eyes; then settlers slowly crept in. But for fifty years Ipswich was
+not deemed a safe home nor free from dread of cruel Indians; “Lovewell’s War”
+dragged on in 1726. But mantuas and masks, whisks and drolls, were just as
+eagerly sought by the governor’s wife as if Esther Rowlandson’s capture had
+been a dream.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a soured, abusive, intolerant old fellow in New England in the year
+1700, a “vituperative epithetizer,” ready to throw mud on everything around him
+(though not working—to my knowledge—in cleaning out any mud-holes). He was not
+abusive because he was a Puritan, but because “it was his nature to.” He styled
+himself a “Simple Cobbler,” and he announced himself “willing to Mend his
+Native Country, lamentably tattered both in the upper Leather and in the Sole,
+with all the Honest Stitches he can take,” but he took out his aid in loud
+hammering of his lapstone and noisy protesting against all other footwear than
+his own. I fancy he thought himself another Stubbes. I know of no whole soles
+he set, nor any holes he mended, and his “Simple” ideas are so involved in
+expression, in such twisted sentences, and with such “strange Ink-pot termes”
+and so many Latin quotations and derivatives, that I doubt if many sensible
+folk knew what he meant, even in his own day. His words have none of the
+directness, the force, the interest that have the writings of old Stubbes. Such
+words as nugiperous, perquisquilian, ill-shapen-shotten, nudistertian,
+futulous, overturcased, quaematry, surquedryes, prodromie, would seem to apply
+ill to woman’s attire; they really fall wide of the mark if intended as
+weapons, but it was to such vain dames as the governor’s wife that the Simple
+Cobbler applied them. Some of the ministers of the colony, terrified by the
+Indian outbreaks, gloomily held the vanity and extravagance of dames and
+goodwives as responsible for them all. Others, with broader minds, could
+discern that both the open and the subtle influence of good clothes was needed
+in the new community. They gave an air of cheerfulness, of substance, of
+stability, which is of importance in any new venture. For the governor’s wife
+to dress richly and in the best London modes added lustre to the governor’s
+office. And when the excitement had quieted and the sullen Indian sachem and
+his tawny braves stalked through the little town in their gay, barbaric
+trappings, they were sensible that Madam Symonds’s embroidered satin manteau
+was rich and costly, even if they did not know what we know, that it was the
+top of the mode.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Governor Symonds’s home in Ipswich was on the ground where the old seminary
+building now stands; but the happy married pair spent much of the time at his
+farm-house on Argilla Farm, on Heart-Break Hill, by Labor-in-vain Creek, which
+was also in Ipswich County. This lonely farm, so sad in name, was the only
+dwelling-place in that region; it was so remote that when Indian assault was
+daily feared, the general court voted to station there a guard of soldiers at
+public expense because the governor was “so much in the country’s service.” He
+says distinctly, however, concerning the bargain in the purchase of Argilla
+Farm, that his wife was well content with it.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Penelope_Winslow."></a>
+<img src="images/171.jpg" alt="Penelope Winslow." />
+<p class="caption">Penelope Winslow.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+There were also intimate personal considerations which would apparently render
+so luxurious a wardrobe unnecessary and unsuitable. The age and health of the
+wearer might generally be held to be sufficient reason for indifference to such
+costly, delicate, and gay finery. When Madam Symonds was fifty-eight years old,
+in 1674, her son wrote, “Oh, Good Mother, grieved am I to learn that Craziness
+creeps upon you, yet am I glad that you have Faith to look beyond this Life.”
+Craziness had originally no meaning of infirmity of mind; it meant feebleness,
+weakness of body. Her letters evidently informed him of failing health, but
+even that did not hinder the export of London finery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Governor Symonds’s estate at his death was under &pound;;3000, and Argilla Farm
+was valued only at &pound;;150; yet Madam had a “Manto” which is marked
+distinctly in her son’s own handwriting as costing &pound;;30. She had money of
+her own, and estates in England, of which John Hall kept an account, and with
+the income of which he made these purchases. This manteau was of flowered
+satin, and had silver clasps and a rich pair of embroidered satin sleeves to
+wear with it; it was evidently like a sleeveless cape. We must always remember
+that seventeenth-century accounts must be multiplied by five to give
+twentieth-century values. Even this valuation is inadequate. Therefore the
+&pound;;30 paid for the manteau would to-day be &pound;;150; $800 would nearly
+represent the original value. As it was sent in early autumn it was evidently a
+winter garment, and it must have been furred with sable to be so costly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the early inventories of all the colonies “a pair of sleeves” is a frequent
+item, and to my delight—when so seldom color is given—I have more than once a
+pair of green sleeves.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Thy gown was of the grassy green<br/>
+   Thy sleeves of satin hanging by,<br/>
+ Which made thee be our harvest queen<br/>
+   And yet thou wouldst not love me.<br/>
+     Green sleeves was all my joy,<br/>
+     Green sleeves was my delight,<br/>
+     Green sleeves was my Heart of Gold,<br/>
+     And who but Lady Green-sleeves!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Let me recount some of “My Good Son’s labors of love and pride in London shops”
+for his vain old mother. She had written in the year 1675 for lawn whisks, but
+he is quick to respond that she has made a very countrified mistake.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Lawn whisks is not now worn either by Gentil or simple, young or old. Instead
+whereof I have bought a shape and ruffles, what is now the ware of the bravest
+as well as the young ones. Such as goe not with naked neckes, wear a black
+whisk over it. Therefore I have not only bought a plain one you sent for, but
+also a Lustre one, such as are most in fashion.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+John Hall’s “lustre for whisks” was of course lustring, or lutestring, a soft
+half-lustred pure silk fabric which was worn constantly for two centuries. He
+sent his mother many yards of it for her wear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have ample proof that these black whisks were in general wear in England. In
+an account-book of Sarah Fell of Swarthmoor Hall in 1673, are these items: “a
+black alamode whiske for Sister Rachel; a round whiske for Susanna; a little
+black whiske for myself.” This English Quaker sends also a colored stuff manteo
+to her sister; scores of English inventories of women’s wardrobes contain
+precisely similar items to those bought by Son Hall. And it is a tribute to the
+devotion of American women to the rigid laws of fashion, even in that early
+day, to find that all whisks, save black whisks and lustring ones, disappear at
+this date from colonial inventories of effects.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She wrote to him for a “side of plum colored leather” for her shoes. This was a
+matter of much concern to him, not at all because this leather was a bit gay or
+extravagant, or frail wear for an elderly grandmother, but because it was not
+the very latest thing in leather. He writes anxiously:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Secondly you sent for Damson-Coloured Spanish Leather for Womans Shoes. But
+there is noe Spanish Leather of that Colour; and Turkey Leather is coloured on
+the grain side only, both of which are out of use for Women’s Shoes. Therefore
+I bought a Skin of Leather that is all the mode for Women’s Shoes. All that I
+fear is, that it is too thick. But my Coz. Eppes told me yt such thin ones as
+are here generally used, would by rain and snow in N. England presently be
+rendered of noe service and therefore persuaded me to send this, which is
+stronger than ordinary. And if the Shoemaker fit it well, may not be uneasy.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Perhaps his anxious offices and advices in regard to fans show more curiously
+than other quotations, the insistent attitude of the New England mind in regard
+to the latest fashions. I cannot to-day conceive why any woman, young or old,
+could have been at all concerned in Ipswich in 1675 as to which sort of fan she
+carried, or what was carried in London, yet good Son John writes:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“As to the feathered fan, I should also have found it in my heart to let it
+alone, because none but very grave persons (and of them very few) use it. That
+now ’tis grown almost as obsolete as Russets and more rare to be seen than a
+yellow Hood. But the Thing being Civil and not very dear, Remembering that in
+the years 64 and 68, if I mistake not, you had Two Fans sent, I have bought one
+now on purpose for you, and I hope you will be pleased.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Evidently the screen-fan of Pocahontas’s day was no longer a novelty. His
+mother had had far more fans that he remembered. In 1664 two “Tortis shell
+fanns” had gone across seas; one had cost five shillings, the other ten
+shillings. The following year came a black feather fan with silver handle, and
+two tortoise-shell fans; in 1666 two more tortoise-shell fans; in 1688 another
+feather fan, and so on. These many fans may have been disposed of as gifts to
+others, but the entire trend of the son’s letters, as well as his express
+directions, would show that all these articles were for his mother’s personal
+use. When finery was sent for madam’s daughter, it was so specified; in 1675,
+when the daughter became a bride, Brother John sent her her wedding gloves,
+ever a gift of sentiment. A pair of wedding gloves of that date lies now before
+me. They are mitts rather than gloves, being fingerless. They are of white kid,
+and are twenty-two inches long. They are very wide at the top, and have three
+drawing-strings with gilt tassels; these are run in welts about two inches
+apart, and were evidently drawn into puffs above the elbow when worn. A full
+edging of white Swiss lace and a pretty design of dots made in gold thread on
+the back of the hand, form altogether a very costly, elegant, and decorative
+article of dress. I should fancy they cost several pounds. Men’s gloves were
+equally rich. Here are the gold-fringed gloves of Governor Leverett worn in
+1640.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Gold-fringed_Gloves_of_Governor_Leverett."></a>
+<img src="images/176.jpg" alt="Gold-fringed Gloves of Governor Leverett." />
+<p class="caption">Gold-fringed Gloves of Governor Leverett.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Of course the only head-gear of Madam Symonds for outdoor wear was a hood. Hats
+were falling in disfavor. I shall tell in a special chapter of the dominance at
+this date and the importance of the French hood. Its heavy black folds are
+shown in the portraits of Rebecca Rawson (<a href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a>),
+of Madam Simeon Stoddard (<a href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>), and on
+other heads in this book. Such a hood probably covered Madam Symonds’s head
+heavily and fully, whene’er she walked abroad; certainly it did when she rode a
+pillion-back. She had other fashionable hoods—all the fashionable hoods, in
+fact, that were worn in England at that time; hoods of lustring, of tiffany, of
+“bird’s-eye”—precisely the same as had Madam Pepys, and one of spotted gauze,
+the last a pretty vanity for summer wear. We may remember, in fact, that Madam
+Symonds was a contemporary—across-seas—of Madam Pepys, and wore the same
+garments; only she apparently had richer and more varied garments than did that
+beautiful young woman whose husband was in the immediate employ of the king.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arthur Abbott was the agent in Boston through whom this London finery and
+flummery was delivered to Madam Symonds in safety; and it is an amusing
+side-light upon social life in the colony to know that in 1675 Abbott’s wife
+was “presented before the court” for wearing a silk hood above her station, and
+her husband paid the fine. Knowing womankind, and knowing the skill and cunning
+in needlework of women of that day, I cannot resist building up a little
+imaginative story around this “presentment” and fine. I believe that the pretty
+young woman could not put aside the fascination of all the beautiful London
+hoods consigned to her husband for the old lady at Ipswich; I suspect she tried
+all the finery on, and that she copied one hood for herself so successfully and
+with such telling effect that its air of high fashion at once caught the eye
+and met with the reproof of the severe Boston magistrates. She was the last
+woman, I believe, to be fined under the colonial sumptuary laws of
+Massachusetts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The colors of Madam Symonds’s garments were seldom given, but I doubt that they
+were “sad-coloured” or “grave of colour” as we find Governor Winthrop’s orders
+for his wife. One lustring hood was brown; and frequently green ribbons were
+sent; also many yards of scarlet and pink gauze, which seem the very essence of
+juvenility. Her son writes a list of gifts to her and the members of her family
+from his own people:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“A light violet-colored Petti-Coat is my wife’s token to you. The Petti-Coat
+was bought for my wife’s mother and scarcely worn. This my wife humbly presents
+to you, requesting your acceptance of it, for your own wearing, as being Grave
+and suitable for a Person of Quality.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Even a half-worn petticoat was a considerable gift; for petticoats were both
+costly and of infinite needlework. Even the wealthiest folk esteemed a gift of
+partly worn clothing, when materials were so rich. Letters of deep gratitude
+were sent in thanks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The variety of stuffs used in them was great. Some of these are wholly
+obsolete; even the meaning of their names is lost. In an inventory of 1644, of
+a citizen of Plymouth there was, for instance, “a petticoate of phillip &amp;;
+cheny” worth &pound;;1. Much of the value of these petticoats was in the
+handwork bestowed upon them; they were both embroidered and elaborately
+quilted. About 1730, in the Van Cortlandt family, a woman was paid at one time
+&pound;;2 5s. for quilting, a large amount for that day. Often we find items of
+fifteen or twenty shillings for quilting a petticoat.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Embroidered_Petticoat_Band."></a>
+<img src="images/179.jpg" alt="Embroidered Petticoat Band." />
+<p class="caption">Embroidered Petticoat Band.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The handsomest petticoats were of quilted silk or satin. No pattern was so
+elaborate, no amount of work so large, that it could dismay the heart or tire
+the fingers of an eighteenth-century needlewoman. One yellow satin petticoat
+has a lining of stout linen. These are quilted together in an exquisite
+irregular design of interlacing ribbons, slender vines, and long, narrow
+leaves, all stuffed with white cord. Though the general effect of this pattern
+is very regular, an examination shows it is not a set design, but must have
+been drawn as well as worked by the maker. Another petticoat has a curious
+design made with two shades of blue silk cord sewed on in a pattern. Another of
+infinite work has a design outlined in tiny rolls of satin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These petticoats had many flat trimmings; laces of silver, gold, or silk thread
+were used, galloons and orrice. Tufts of fringed silk were dotted in clusters
+and made into fly-fringe. Bridget Neal, writing in 1685 to her sister, says:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I am told las is yused on petit-coats. Three fringes is much yused, but they
+are not set on the petcot strait, but in waves; it does not look well, unless
+all the fringes yused that fashion is the plane twisted fring not very deep. I
+hear some has nine fringes sett in this fashion.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Anxiety to please his honored mother, and desire that she should be dressed in
+the top of the mode, show in every letter of John Hall:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I bought your muffs of my Coz. Jno. Rolfe who tells me they are worth more
+money than I gave for them. You desired yours Modish yet Long; but here with us
+they are now much shorter. These were made a Purpose for you. As to yr Silk
+Flowered Manto, I hope it may please you; Tis not the Mode to lyne you now at
+all; but if you like to have it soe, any silke will serve, and may be done at
+yr pleasure.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In 1663 Pepys notes (with his customary delight at a new fashion, mingled with
+fear that thereby he might be led into more expense) that ladies at the play
+put on “vizards which hid the whole face, and had become a great fashion; and
+<i>so</i> to the Exchange to buy a Vizard for my wife.” Soon he added a French
+mask, which led to some unpleasant encounters for Mrs. Pepys with dissolute
+courtiers on the street. The plays in London were then so bold and so bad that
+we cannot wonder at the masks of the play-goers. The masks concealed constant
+blushes; but wearers and hearers did not stay away, for neither eyes nor ears
+were covered by the mask. Busino tells of a woman at the theatre all in yellow
+and scarlet, with two masks and three pairs of gloves, worn one pair over the
+other. Suddenly out came disappointing Queen Anne with her royal command that
+the plays be refined and reformed, and then masks were abandoned.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Blue_Brocade_Gown_and_Quilted_Satin_Petticoat."></a>
+<img src="images/182.jpg" alt="Blue Brocade Gown and Quilted Satin Petticoat."
+/>
+<p class="caption">Blue Brocade Gown and Quilted Satin Petticoat.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Masks were in those years in constant wear in the French court and society, as
+a protection to the complexion when walking or riding. Sometimes plain glass
+was fitted in the eye-holes. French masks had wires which fastened behind the
+ears, or a mouthpiece of silver; or they had an ingenious and simple stay in
+the form of two strings at the corners of the mouth-opening of the mask. These
+strings ended in a silver button or glass bead. With a bead held firmly in
+either corner of her mouth, the mask-wearer could talk. These vizards are seen
+in old English wood-cuts, often hanging by the side, fastened to the belt with
+a small cord or chain. They brought forth the bitter denunciations of the old
+Puritan Stubbes. He writes in his <i>Anatomie of Abuses</i>:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“When they vse to ride abroad, they haue visors made of ueluet (or in my
+iudgment they may rather be called inuisories) wherewith they couer all their
+faces, hauing holes made in them agaynst their eies, whereout they looke. So
+that if a man that knew not their guise before, shoulde chaunce to meete one of
+theme, he would thinke he mette a monster or a deuill; for face he can see
+none, but two broad holes against their eyes with glasses in them.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Masks were certainly worn to a considerable extent in America. As early as
+1645, masks were forbidden in Plymouth, Massachusetts, “for improper purposes.”
+When you think of the Plymouth of that year, its few houses and inhabitants,
+its desperate struggle to hold its place at all as a community, the narrow
+means of its citizens, the comparatively scant wardrobes of the wives and
+daughters, this restriction as to mask-wearing seems a grim jest. They were for
+sale in Salem and Boston, black velvet masks worth two shillings each; but
+these towns were more flourishing than Plymouth. And New York dames had them,
+and the planters’ wives of Virginia and South Carolina.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I suppose Madam Symonds wore her mask when she mounted on a pillion behind some
+strong young lad, and rode out to Argilla Farm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A few years later than the dates when Madam Symonds was ordering these
+fashionable articles of dress from England a rhyming catalogue of a lady’s
+toilet was written by John Evelyn and entitled, <i>Mundus Muliebris or a Voyage
+to Mary-Land</i>; it might be a list of Madam Symonds’s wardrobe. Some of the
+lines run:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“One gown of rich black silk, which odd is<br/>
+Without one coloured embroidered boddice.<br/>
+Three manteaux, nor can Madam less<br/>
+Provision have for due undress.<br/>
+Of under-boddice three neat pair<br/>
+Embroidered, and of shoes as fair;<br/>
+Short under petticoats, pure fine,<br/>
+Some of Japan stuff, some of Chine,<br/>
+With knee-high galoon bottomed;<br/>
+Another quilted white and red,<br/>
+With a broad Flanders lace below.<br/>
+Three night gowns of rich Indian stuff;<br/>
+Four cushion-cloths are scarce enough.<br/>
+A manteau girdle, ruby buckle,<br/>
+And brilliant diamond ring for knuckle.<br/>
+Fans painted and perfumed three;<br/>
+Three muffs of ermine, sable, grey.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Other articles of personal and household comfort were gathered in London shops
+by her dutiful son and sent to Madam Symonds. The list is full of interest, and
+helps to fill out the picture of daily life. He despatched to her cloves,
+nutmegs, spices, eringo roots, “coronation” and stock-gilly-flower seed, “colly
+flower seed,” hearth brushes (these came every year), silver whistles and
+several pomanders and pomander-beads, bouquet-glasses (which could hardly have
+been the bosom bottles which were worn later), necklaces, amber beads, many and
+varied pins, needles, silk lacings, kid gloves, silver ink-boxes, sealing-wax,
+gilt trunks, fancy boxes, painted desks, tape, ferret, bobbin, bone lace,
+calico, gimp, many yards of ducape, lustring, persian, and other silk
+stuffs—all these items of transport show the son’s devoted selection of the
+articles his mother wished. Gowns seem never to have been sent, but manteaus,
+mantles, and “ferrandine” cloaks appear frequently. Of course there are some
+articles which cannot be positively described to-day, such as the “shape, with
+ruffles” and “double pleated drolls” and “lace drolls” which appear several
+times on the lists. These “drolls” were, I believe, the “drowlas” of Madame de
+Lange, in New Amsterdam. “Men’s knives” occasionally were sent, and “women’s
+knives” many times. These latter had hafts of ivory, agate, and
+“Ellotheropian.” This Ellotheropian or Alleteropeain or Illyteropian stone has
+been ever a great puzzle to me until in another letter I chanced to find the
+spelling Hellotyropian; then I knew the real word was the Heliotropium of the
+ancients, our blood-stone. It was a favorite stone of the day not only for
+those fancy-handled knives, but for seals, finger-rings and other forms of
+ornament.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A few books were on the list,—a Greek Lexicon ordered as a gift for a student;
+a very costly Bible, bound in velvet, with silver clasps, the expense of which
+was carefully detailed down to the Indian silk for the inner-end leaves;
+“<i>Dod on Commandments</i>—my Ant Jane said you had a fancie for it, and I
+have bound it in green plush for you.” Fancy any one having a fancy for Dod on
+anything! and fancy Dod in green plush covers!
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 35%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>This day the King began to put on his vest; and I did see several persons of
+the House of Lords and Commons too, great courtiers who are in it, being a long
+cassock close to the body, of long cloth, pinked with white silk under it, and
+a coat over it, and the legs ruffled with white ribbon like a pigeon’s leg; and
+upon the whole I wish the King may keep it, for it is a very fine and handsome
+garment.</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Diary,” SAMUEL PEPYS, October 8, 1666.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>Fashion then was counted a disease and horses died of it.</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“The Gulls Hornbook,” ANDREW DEKKER, 1609.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="90" height="87" src="images/initialb.jpg" alt="B" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+oth word and garment—coat—are of curious interest, one as a philological study,
+the other as an evolution. A singular transfer of meaning from cot or cote, a
+house and shelter, to the word coat, used for a garment, is duplicated in some
+degree in chasuble, casule, and cassock; the words body, and bodice; and corse
+or corpse, and corselet and corset. The word coat, meaning a garment for men
+for covering the upper part of the body, has been in use for centuries; but of
+very changeable and confusing usage, for it also constantly meant petticoat.
+The garment itself was a puzzle, for many years; most bewildering of all the
+attire which was worn by the first colonists was the elusive, coatlike
+over-garment called in shipping-lists, tailors’ orders, household inventories,
+and other legal and domestic records a doublet, a jerkin, a jacket, a cassock,
+a paltock, a coat, a horseman’s coat, an upper-coat, and a buff-coat. All these
+garments resembled each other; all closed with a single row of buttons or
+points or hooks and eyes. There was not a double-breasted coat in the
+<i>Mayflower</i>, nor on any man in any of the colonies for many years; they
+hadn’t been invented. Let me attempt to define these several coatlike garments.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="A_Plain_Jerkin."></a>
+<img src="images/188.jpg" alt="A Plain Jerkin." />
+<p class="caption">A Plain Jerkin.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In 1697 a jerkin was described by Randle Holme as “a kind of jacket or upper
+doublet, with four skirts or laps.” These laps were made by slits up from the
+hem to the belt-line, and varied in number, but four on each side was a usual
+number, or there might be a slit up the back, and one on each hip, which would
+afford four laps in all. Mr. Knight, in his notes on Shakespere’s use of the
+word, conjectures that the jerkin was generally worn over the doublet; but one
+guess is as good as another, and I guess it was not. I agree, however, with his
+surmise that the two garments were constantly confounded; in truth it is not a
+surmise, it is a fact. Shakespere expressed the situation when he said in
+<i>The Two Gentlemen of Verona</i>, “My jerkin is a doublet;” and I fancy there
+was slight difference in the garments, save that in the beginning the doublet
+was always of two thicknesses, as its name indicates; and it was wadded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As the jerkin was often minutely slashed, it could scarcely have been wadded;
+though it may have had a lining for special display through the slashes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A jerkin had no skirts in our modern sense of the word,—a piece set on at the
+waist-line,—nor could it on that account be what we term a coat, nor was it a
+coat, nor was it what the colonists deemed a coat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old Dutch word is <i>jurkken</i>, and it was often thus spelt, which has
+led some to deem it a Dutch name and article of dress. But then it was also
+spelt <i>irkin, ircken, jorken, jorgen, erkyn</i>, and <i>ergoin</i>—which are
+not Dutch nor any other tongue. Indeed, under the name <i>ergoin</i> I wonder
+that we recognize it or that it knew itself. A jerkin was often of leather like
+a buff-coat, but not always so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sir Richard Saltonstall wears a buff-coat, with handsome sword-belt, or
+trooping-belt, and rich gloves. His portrait is shown <a
+href="#Sir_Richard_Saltonstall.">here</a>. As we look at his fine countenance
+we think of Hawthorne’s words:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“What dignitary is this crossing to greet the Governor. A stately personage in
+velvet cloak—with ample beard and a gold band across his breast. He has the
+authoritative port of one who has filled the highest civic position in the
+first of cities. Of all men in the world, we should least expect to meet the
+Lord Mayor of London—as Sir Richard Saltonstall has been once and again—in a
+forest-bordered settlement in the western wilderness.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A fine buff-coat and a buff-coat sleeve are given in the chapter upon Armor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the early colonial inventories of wearing-apparel contain doublets. Richard
+Sawyer died in 1648 in Windsor, Connecticut; he was a plain average “Goodman
+Citizen.” A part of his apparel was thus inventoried:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound;;</td><td> s.</td><td>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 musck-colour’d cloth doublitt &amp;; breeches</td><td>1</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 bucks leather doublitt</td><td></td><td>12</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 calves leather doublitt</td><td></td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 liver-colour’d doublitt &amp;; jacket &amp;; breeches</td><td></td><td>7</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 haire-colour’d doublitt &amp;; jackett &amp;; breeches </td><td></td><td>5</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 paire canvas drawers</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 olde coate. 1 paire old gray breeches</td><td></td><td>5</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 stuffe jackett</td><td></td><td>2</td><td>6</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+William Kempe of “Duxborrow,” a settler of importance, died in 1641. His
+wardrobe was more varied, and ample and rich. He left two buff-coats and
+leather doublets with silver buttons; cloth doublets, three horsemen’s coats,
+“frize jerkines,” three cassocks, two cloaks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of course we turn to Stubbes to see what he can say for or against doublets.
+His outcry here is against their size; and those who know the “great
+pease-cod-bellied doublets” of Elizabeth’s day will agree with him that they
+look as if a man were wholly gone to “gourmandice and gluttonie.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="A_Doublet."></a>
+<img src="images/191.jpg" alt="A Doublet." />
+<p class="caption">A Doublet.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Stubbes has a very good list of coats and jerkins in which he gives
+incidentally an excellent description by which we may know a mandillion:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Their coates and jerkins as they be diuers in colours so be they diuers in
+fashions; for some be made with collars, some without, some close to the body,
+some loose, which they call mandilians, couering the whole body down to the
+thigh, like bags or sacks, that were drawne ouer them, hiding the dimensions
+and lineaments of the body. Some are buttoned down the breast, some vnder the
+arme, and some down the backe, some with flaps over the brest, some without,
+some with great sleeves, some with small, some with none at all, some pleated
+and crested behind and curiously gathered and some not.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+An old satirical print, dated 1644, gives drawings of men of all the new
+varieties of religious belief and practices which “pestered Christians” at the
+beginning of the century. With the exception of the Adamite, whose garb is that
+of Adam in the Garden of Eden, all ten wear doublets. These vary slightly, much
+less than in Stubbes’s list of jerkins. One is open up the back with buttons
+and button-loops. Another has the “four laps on a side,” showing it is a
+jerkin. Another is opened on the hips; one is slit at back and hips. All save
+one from neck to hem are buttoned in front with a single row of buttons, with
+no lapells, collar, or cuffs, and no “flaps,” no ornaments or trimming. A linen
+shirt-cuff and a plain band finish sleeves and neck of all save the Arminian,
+who wears a small ruff. Not one of these doublets is a graceful or an elegant
+garment. All are shapeless and over-plain; and have none of the French
+smartness that came from the spreading coat-skirts of men’s later wear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The welts or wings named in the early sumptuary laws were the pieces of cloth
+set at the shoulder over the arm-hole where body and sleeves meet. The welt was
+at first a sort of epaulet, but grew longer and often set out, thus deserving
+its title of wings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A dress of the times is thus described:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“His doublet was of a strange cut, the collar of it was up so high and sharp as
+it would cut his throat. His wings according to the fashion now were as little
+and diminutive as a Puritan’s ruff.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A note to this says that “wings were lateral projections, extending from each
+shoulder”—a good round sentence that by itself really means nothing. Ben Jonson
+calls them “puff-wings.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is one positive rule in the shape of doublets; they were always welted at
+the arm-hole. Possibly the sleeves were sometimes sewn in, but even then there
+was always a cap, a welt or a hanging sleeve or some edging. In the
+illustrations of the <i>Roxburghe Ballads</i> there is not a doublet or jerkin
+on man, woman, or child but is thus welted. Some trimming around the arm-hole
+was a law. This lasted until the coat was wholly evolved. This had sleeves, and
+the shoulder-welt vanished.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These welts were often turreted or cut in squares. You will note this turreted
+shoulder in some form on nearly all the doublets given in the portraits
+displayed in this book—both on men and women. For doublets were also worn by
+women. Stubbes says, “Though this be a kind of attire proper only to a man, yet
+they blush not to wear it.” The old print of the infamous Mrs. Turner given <a
+href="#AWomansDoubletMrsAnneTurner">here</a> shows her in a doublet.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="JAMES_DUKE_OF_YORK"></a>
+<img src="images/194.jpg" alt="The high borne Prince Iames Dvke of Yorke borne
+October = the 13.1633" />
+<p class="caption">James, Duke of York.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Another author complains:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“If Men get up French standing collars Women will have the French standing
+collar too: if Dublets with little thick skirts, so short none are able to sit
+upon them, women’s foreparts are thick skirted too.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Children also had doublets and this same shoulder-cap at the arm-hole; their
+little doublets were made precisely like those of their parents. Look at the
+childish portrait of Lady Arabella Stuart, the portrait with the doll. Her fat
+little figure is squeezed in a doublet which has turreted welts like those worn
+by Anne Boleyn and by Pocahontas (shown <a href="#Pocahontas.">here</a>). Often
+a button was set between each square of the welt, and the sleeve loops or
+points could be tied to these buttons and thus hold up the detached
+undersleeves. The portrait of Sir Richard Saltonstall vaguely shows these
+buttons. Nearly all these garments-jerkins, jackets, doublets, buff-coats,
+paltocks, were sleeveless, especially when worn as the uppermost or outer
+garment. Holinshed tells of “doublets full of jagges and cuts and sleeves of
+sundry colours.” These welts were “embroidered, indented, waved, furred,
+chisel-punched, dagged,” as well as turreted. On one sleeve the turreted welt
+varied, the middle square or turret was long, the others each two inches
+shorter. Thus the sleeve-welt had a “crow-step” shape. A charming doublet
+sleeve of Elizabeth’s day displayed a short hanging sleeve that was scarce more
+than a hanging welt. This was edged around with crystal balls or buttons. Other
+welts were scalloped, with an eyelet-hole in each scallop, like the edge of old
+ladies’ flannel petticoats. Othersome welts were a round stuffed roll. This
+roll also had its day around the petticoat edge, as may be seen in the
+petticoat of the child Henry Gibbes. This roll still appears on Japanese
+kimonos.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We are constantly finding complaints of the unsuitably ambitious attire of
+laboring folk in such sentences as this:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The plowman, in times past content in russet, must now-a-daies have his
+doublett of the fashion with wide cuts; his fine garters of Granada, to meet
+his Sis on Sunday. The fair one in russet frock and mockaldo sleeves now sells
+a cow against Easter to buy her silken gear.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Velvet jerkins and damask doublets were for men of dignity and estate. Governor
+Winthrop had two tufted velvet jerkins.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Jerkins and doublets varied much in shape and detail:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“These doublets were this day short-waisted, anon, long-bellied;
+by-and-by-after great-buttoned, straight-after plain-laced, or else your
+buttons as strange for smallness as were before for bigness.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="An_Embroidered_Jerkin."></a>
+<img src="images/197.jpg" alt="An Embroidered Jerkin." />
+<p class="caption">An Embroidered Jerkin.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In Charles II’s time at the May-pole dances still appear the old, welted
+doublets. Jack may have worn Cicily’s doublet, and Peg may have borrowed Will’s
+for all the difference that can be seen. The man’s doublet did not ever have
+long, hanging sleeves, however, in the seventeenth century, while women wore
+such sleeves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sometimes the sleeves were very large, as in the Bowdoin portrait (<a
+href="#A_Bowdoin_Portrait">here</a>). The great puffs were held out by
+whalebones and rolls of cotton, and “tiring-sleeves” of wires, a fashion which
+has obtained for women at least seven times in the history of English costume.
+Gosson describes the vast sleeves of English doublets thus;—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“This Cloth of Price all cut in ragges,<br/>
+    These monstrous bones that compass arms,<br/>
+These buttons, pinches, fringes, jagges,<br/>
+    With them he (the Devil) weaveth woeful harms.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have seen how bitterly the slashing of good cloth exercised good men. The
+“cutting in rags” was slashing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A favorite pattern of slashing is in small, narrow slits as shown in the
+portrait <a href="#JamesDouglasEarlofMorton">here</a> of James Douglas. These
+jerkins are of leather, and the slashes are of course ornamental, and are also
+for health and comfort, as those know who wear chamois jackets with perforated
+holes throughout them, or slashes if we choose to call them so. They permit a
+circulation of the skin and a natural condition. These jerkins are slashed in
+curious little cuts, “carved of very good intail,” as was said of King Henry’s
+jerkin, which means, in modern English, cut in very good designs. And I
+presume, being of buff leather, the slashes were simply cut, not overcast or
+embroidered as were some wool stuffs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The guard was literally a guard to the seam, a strip of galloon, silk, lace,
+velvet, put on over the seam to protect and strengthen it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The large openings or slashes were called panes. Fynes Mayson says, “Lord
+Mountjoy wore jerkins and round hose with laced panes of russet cloth.” The
+Swiss dress was painted by Coryat as doublet and hose of panes intermingled of
+red and yellow, trimmed with long puffs of blue and yellow rising up between
+the panes. It was necessarily a costly dress. Of course this is the same word
+with the same meaning as when used in the term a “pane of glass.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word “pinches” refers to an elaborate pleating which was worn for years; it
+lingered in America till 1750, and we have revived it in what we term
+“accordion pleating.” The seventeenth-century pinching was usually applied to
+lawn or some washable stuff; and there must have been a pinching, a goffering
+machine by which the pinching was done to the washed garment by means of a
+heated iron.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="John_Lilburne."></a>
+<img src="images/199.jpg" alt="John Lilburne." />
+<p class="caption">John Lilburne.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Pinched sleeves, pinched partlets, pinched shirts, pinched wimples, pinched
+ruffs, are often referred to, all washable garments. The good wife of Bath wore
+a wimple which was “y-pinched full seemly.” Henry VIII wore a pinched
+habit-shirt of finest lawn, and his fine, healthy skin glowed pink through the
+folds of the lawn after his hearty exercise at tennis and all kinds of athletic
+sports, for which he had thrown off his doublet. We are taught to deem him “a
+spot of grease and blood on England’s page.” There was more muscle than fat in
+him; he could not be restrained from constant, violent, dangerous exercise;
+this was one of the causes of the admiration of his subjects.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The pinched partlet made a fine undergarment for the slashed doublet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So full, so close, were these “pinchings,” that one author complained that men
+wearing them could not draw their bowstrings well. It was said that the
+“pinched partlet and puffed sleeves” of a courtier would easily make a lad a
+doublet and cloak.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In my chapter on Children’s Dress I tell of the pinched shirt worn by Governor
+Bradford when an infant, and give an illustration of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aglets or tags were a pretty fashion revived for women’s wear three years ago.
+Under Stuart reign, these aglets were of gold or silver, and set with precious
+stones such as pear-shaped pearls. For ordinary wear they were of metal, silk,
+or leather. They secured from untwisting or ravelling the points which were
+worn for over a century; these were ties or laces of ribbon, or woollen yarn or
+leather, decorated with tags or aglets at one end. Points were often
+home-woven, and were deemed a pretty gift to a friend. They were employed
+instead of buttons in securing clothes, and were used by the earliest settlers,
+chiefly, I think, as ornaments at the knee or for holding up the stockings in
+the place of garters. They were regarded as but foolish vanities, and were one
+of the articles of finery tabooed in early sumptuary laws. In 1651 the general
+court of Massachusetts expressed its “utter detestation and dislike that men of
+meane condition, education and calling should take upon them the garbe of
+gentlemen by the wearinge of poynts at the knees.” Fashion was more powerful
+than law; the richly trimmed, sashlike garters quickly displaced the modest
+points.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Earl of Southampton, friend of Shakespere and of Virginia, as pictured on a
+later page, wears a doublet with agletted points around his belt, by which
+breeches and doublet are tied together. This is a striking portrait. The face
+is very noble. A similar belt was the favorite wear of Charles I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Martin Frobisher, the hero of the Armada, wears a jerkin fastened down the
+front with buttons and aigletted points. (See <a
+href="#A_Plain_Jerkin.">here</a>.) I suppose, when the fronts of the jerkin
+were thoroughly joined, each button had a point twisted or tied around it.
+Frobisher’s lawn ruff is a modest and becoming one. This portrait in the
+original is full length. The remainder of the costume is very plain; it has no
+garters, no knee-points, no ribbons, no shoe-roses. The foot-covering is
+Turkish slippers precisely like the Oriental slippers which are imported
+to-day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Earl of Morton (<a href="#JamesDouglasEarlofMorton">here</a>) wore a jerkin
+of buff leather curiously pinked and slashed. Fulke Greville’s doublet (<a
+href="#FulkeGrevilleLordBrooke">here</a>) has a singular puff around the waist,
+like a farthingale.<a href="#A_Doublet.">Here</a> is shown a doublet of the
+commonest form; this is worn by Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire. The
+portrait is painted by Sir Antonio More—the portrait of one artist by another,
+and a very fine one, too.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another garment, which is constantly named in lists of clothing, was the
+cassock. Steevens says a cassock “signifies a horseman’s loose coat, and is
+used in that sense by the writers of the age of Shakespere.” It was apparently
+a garment much like a doublet or jerkin, and the names were used
+interchangeably. I think the cassock was longer than the doublet, and without
+“laps.” The straight, long coats shown on the gentlemen in the picture <a
+href="#Funeral_Procession.">here</a> were cassocks. The name finally became
+applied only to the coat or gown of the clergy. In the will of Robert
+Saltonstall, made in 1650, he names a “Plush Cassock,” but cloth cassocks were
+the commonest wear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were other names for the doublet which are now difficult to place
+precisely. In the reign of Henry VIII a law was passed as to men’s wear of
+velvet in their sleeveless cotes, jackets, and jupes. This word jupe and its
+ally jupon were more frequently heard in women’s lists; but jump, a derivative,
+was man’s wear. Randle Holme said: “A jump extendeth to the thighs; is open and
+buttoned before, and may have a slit half way behind.” It might be with or
+without sleeves—all this being likewise true of the doublet. From this jump
+descended the modern jumper and the eighteenth century jumps—what Dr. Johnson
+defined in one of his delightsome struggles with the names of women’s attire,
+“Jumps: a kind of loose or limber stays worn by sickly ladies.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Colonel_William_Legge."></a>
+<img src="images/203.jpg" alt="Colonel William Legge." />
+<p class="caption">Colonel William Legge.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Coats were not furnished to the Massachusetts or Plymouth planters, but those
+of Piscataquay in New Hampshire had “lined coats,” which were simply doublets
+like all the rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1633 we find that Governor Winthrop had several dozen scarlet coats sent
+from England to “the Bay.” The consigner wrote, “I could not find any
+Bridgwater cloth but Red; so all the coats sent are red lined with blew, and
+lace suitable; which red is the choise color of all.” These coats of double
+thickness were evidently doublets.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word “coat” in the earliest lists must often refer to a waistcoat. I infer
+this from the small cost of the garments, the small amount of stuff it took to
+make them, and because they were worn with “Vper coats”—upper coats.
+Raccoon-skin and deerskin coats were many; these were likewise waistcoats, and
+the first lace coats were also waistcoats. Robert Keayne of Boston had costly
+lace coats in 1640, which he wore with doublets—these likewise were waistcoats.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As years go on, the use of the word becomes constant. There were “moose-coats”
+of mooseskin. Josselyn says mooseskin made excellent coats for martial men.
+Then come papous coats and pappous coats. These I inferred—since they were used
+in Indian trading—were for pappooses’ wear, pappoose being the Indian word for
+child. But I had a painful shock in finding in the <i>Traders’ Table of
+Values</i> that “3 Pappous Skins equal 1 Beaver”—so I must not believe that
+pappoose here means Indian baby. Match-coats were originally of skins dressed
+with the fur on, shaped in a coat like the hunting-shirt. The “Duffield
+Match-coat” was made of duffels, a woollen stuff, in the same shape. Duffels
+was called match-cloth. The word “coat” here is not really an English word; it
+is matchigode, the Chippewa Indian name for this garment.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="205"></a>
+<img src="images/205.jpg" width="397" height="600" alt="[Illustration: Sir
+Thomas Orchard, Knight]" />
+<p class="caption">Sir Thomas Orchard, Knight
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+We have in old-time letters and accounts occasional proof that the coat of the
+Puritan fathers was not at all like the shapely coat of our day. We have also
+many words to prove that the coat was a doublet which, as old Stubbes said,
+could be “pleated, or crested behind and curiously gathered.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The tailor of the Winthrop family was one John Smith; he made garments for them
+all, father, mother, children, and children’s wives, and husband’s sisters,
+nieces, cousins, and aunts. He was a good Puritan, and seems to have been much
+esteemed by Winthrop. One letter accompanying a coat runs: “Good Mr. Winthrop,
+I have, by Mr. Downing’s direction sent you a coat, a sad foulding colour
+without lace. For the fittness I am a little vncerteyne, but if it be too bigg
+or too little it is esie to amend, vnder the arme to take in or let out the
+lyning; the outside may be let out in the gathering or taken in also without
+any prejudice.” This instruction would appear to prove not only that the coat
+was a doublet, “curiously gathered” but that the “fittness” was more than
+“uncerteyne” of the coats of the Fathers. Since even such wildly broad
+directions could not “prejudice” the coat, we may assume that Governor Winthrop
+was more easily suited as to the cut of his apparel, than would have been Sir
+Walter Raleigh or Sir Philip Sidney.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though Puritan influence on dress simplified much of the flippery and finery of
+the days of Elizabeth and James, and the refining elegance of Van Dyck gave
+additional simplicity as well as beauty to women’s attire, which it retained
+for many years, still there lingered throughout the seventeenth century, ready
+to spring into fresh life at a breath of encouragement, many grotesqueries of
+fashion in men’s dress which, in the picturesque sneer of the day, were deemed
+meet only for “a changeable-silk-gallant.” At the restoration of the crown,
+courtiers seemed to love to flaunt frivolity in the faces of the Puritans.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One of these trumperies came through the excessive use of ribbons, a use which
+gave much charm to women’s dress, but which ever gave to men’s garments a
+finicky look. Beribboned doublets came in the butterfly period, between worm
+and chrysalis, between doublet and coat; beribboned breeches were eagerly
+adopted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Shown <a href="#205">here</a> is the copy of an old print, which shows the
+dress of an estimable and sensible gentleman, Sir Thomas Orchard, with
+ribbon-edged garments and much galloon or laces. It is far too much trimmed to
+be rich or elegant. See also <i>The English Antick</i> on this page, from a
+rare broadside. His tall hat is beribboned and befeathered; his face is
+patched, ribbons knot his love-locks, his breeches are edged with agletted
+ribbons, and “on either side are two great bunches of ribbons of several
+colors.” Similar knots are at wrists and belt. His boots are fringed with lace,
+and so wide that he “straddled as he went along singing.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="The_English_Antick."></a>
+<img src="images/207.jpg" alt="The English Antick." />
+<p class="caption">The English Antick.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Ribboned sleeves like those of Colonel Legge, <a
+href="#Colonel_William_Legge.">here</a>, were a pretty fashion, but more suited
+to women’s wear than to men’s.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, tells us what he thought of such attire.
+He wrote satirically:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“If one have store of ribands hanging about his waist or his knees and in his
+hat; of divers colours red, white black or yellow, O! then he is a brave man.
+He hath ribands on his back, belly and knees, and his hair powdered, this is
+the array of the world. Are not these that have got ribands hanging about their
+arms, hands, back, waist, knees, hats, like fiddlers’ boys? And further if one
+get a pair of breeches like a coat and hang them about with points, and tied up
+almost to the middle, a pair of double cuffs on his hands, and a feather in his
+cap, here is a gentleman!”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+These beribboned garments were a French mode. The breeches were the
+“rhingraves” of the French court, which were breeches made wholly of loops of
+ribbons—like two ribboned petticoats. They caught the eye of seafaring men; we
+know that Jack ashore loves finery. We are told of sea-captains wearing
+beribboned breeches as they came into quiet little American ports, and of one
+English gallant landing from a ship in sober Boston, wearing breeches made
+wholly from waist to knee of overlapping loops of gay varicolored ribbon. It is
+recorded that “the boys did wonder and call out thereat,” and they “were chided
+therefor.” It is easy to picture the scene: the staring boys, born in Boston,
+of Puritan parents, of dignified dress, and more familiar with fringes on the
+garments of savage Indians than on the breeches of English gentlemen; we can
+see the soberly reproving minister or schoolmaster looking with equal
+disapproval on the foppish visitor and the mannerless boys; and the gayly
+dressed ship’s captain, armed with self-satisfaction and masculine vanity,
+swaggering along the narrow streets of the little town. It mattered not what he
+wore or what he did, a seafaring man was welcome. I wonder what the governor
+thought of those beribboned breeches! Perhaps he ordered a pair from London for
+himself,—of sad-colored ribbons,—offering the color as a compromise for the
+over-gayety of the ribbons. Randle Holme gave in 1658 three descriptions of the
+first petticoat-breeches, with drawings of each. One had the lining lower than
+the breeches, and tied in about the knees; ribbons extended halfway up the
+breeches, and ribbons hung out from the doublet all about the waistband. The
+second had a single row of pointed ribbons hanging all around the lower edge of
+the breeches; these were worn with stirrup-hose two yards wide at the top, tied
+by points and eyelet-holes to the breeches. The third had stirrup-hose tied to
+the breeches, and another pair of hose over them turned down at the calf of the
+leg, and the ribbons edged the stirrup-hose. His drawings of them are foolish
+things—not even pretty. He says ribbons were worn first at the knees, then at
+the waist at the doublet edge, then around the neck, then on the wrists and
+sleeves. These knee-ribbons formed what Dryden called in 1674 “a dangling
+knee-fringe.” It is difficult for me to think of Dryden living at that period
+of history. He seems to me infinitely modern in comparison with it. Evelyn
+describes the wearer of such a suit as “a fine silken thing”; and tells that
+the ribbons were of “well-chosen colours of red, orange, and blew, of
+well-gummed satin, which augured a happy fancy.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1672 a suit of men’s clothes was made for the beautiful Duchess of
+Portsmouth to wear to a masquerade; this was with “Rhingrave breeches and
+cannons.” The suit was of dove-colored silk brocade trimmed with scarlet and
+silver lace and ribbons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ten yards of brocade for this beautiful suit cost &pound;;14. The Rhingrave
+breeches were trimmed with thirty-six yards of figured scarlet ribbon and
+thirty-six yards of plain satin ribbon and thirty-six of scarlet taffeta
+ribbon; this made one hundred and eight yards of ribbon—a great amount—an
+unusable amount. I fear the tailor was not honest. There were also as trimmings
+twenty-two yards of scarlet and silver vellum lace for guards; six dozen
+scarlet and silver vellum buttons, smaller breast buttons, narrow laces for the
+waistcoat, and silver twist for buttonholes. The suit was lined with
+lutestring. There was a black beaver hat with scarlet and silver edging, and
+lace embroidered scarlet stockings, a rich belt and lace garters, and point
+lace ruffles for the neck, sleeves, and knees. This suit had an interlining of
+scarlet camlet; and lutestring drawers seamed with scarlet and silver lace. The
+total bill of &pound;;59 would be represented to-day by $1400,—a goodly
+sum,—but it was a goodly suit. There is a portrait of the Duchess of Richmond
+in a similar suit, now at Buckingham Palace. Portraits of the Duke of Bedford,
+and of George I, painted by Kneller, are almost equally beribboned. The one of
+the king is given facing this page to show his ribbons and also the
+extraordinary shoes, which were fashionable at this date.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="George_I."></a>
+<img src="images/211.jpg" alt="George I." />
+<p class="caption">George I.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+“Indians gowns,” or banyans, were for a century worn in England and America,
+and are of enough importance to receive a separate chapter in this book. The
+graceful folds allured all men and all portrait painters, just as the
+fashionable new china allured all women. The banyan was not the only Oriental
+garment which had become of interest to Englishmen. John Evelyn described in
+his <i>Tyrannus or the Mode</i> the “comeliness and usefulnesse” of all Persian
+clothing; and he noted with justifiable gratification that the new attire which
+had recently been adopted by King Charles II was “a comely dress after ye
+Persian mode.” He says modestly, “I do not impute to this my discourse the
+change which soone happened; but it was an identity I could not but take notice
+of.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Rugge in his <i>Diurnal</i> describes the novel dress which was assumed by King
+Charles and the whole court, due notice of a subject of so much importance
+having been given to the council the previous month; and notice of the king’s
+determination “never to change it,” which he kept like many another of his
+promises and resolutions.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“It is a close coat of cloth pinkt with a white taffety under the cutts. This
+in length reached the calf of the leg; and upon that a sercoat cutt at the
+breast, which hung loose and shorter than the vest six inches. The breeches the
+Spanish cutt; and buskins some of cloth, some of leather but of the same colour
+as the vest or garment; of never the like garment since William the Conqueror.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Three_Cassock_Sleeves_and_a_Buff-coat_Sleeve."></a>
+<img src="images/213.jpg" alt="Three Cassock Sleeves and a Buff-coat Sleeve."
+/>
+<p class="caption">Three Cassock Sleeves and a Buff-coat Sleeve.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Pepys we have seen further explained that it was all black and white, the black
+cassock being close to the body. “The legs ruffled with black ribands like a
+pigeon’s leg, and I wish the King may keep it for it is a fine and handsome
+garment.” The news which came to the English court a month later that the king
+of France had put all his footmen and servants in this same dress as a livery
+made Pepys “mightie merry, it being an ingenious kind of affront, and yet makes
+me angry,” which is as curious a frame of mind as even curious Pepys could
+record. Planché doubts this act of the king of France; but in <i>The Character
+of a Trimmer</i> the story is told <i>in extenso</i>—that the “vests were put
+on at first by the King to make Englishmen look unlike Frenchmen; but at the
+first laughing at it all ran back to the dress of French gentlemen.” The king
+had already taken out the white linings as “’tis like a magpie;” and was glad
+to quit it I do not doubt. Dr. Holmes—and the rest of us—have looked askance at
+the word “vest” as allied in usage to that unutterable contraction, pants. But
+here we find that vest is a more classic name than waistcoat for this dull
+garment—a garment with too little form or significance to be elegant or
+interesting or attractive.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="HenryBennetEarlofArlington"></a>
+<img src="images/214.jpg" alt="Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington." />
+<p class="caption">Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Though this dress was adopted by the whole court, and though it was an age of
+portrait painting,—and surely no more delicate flattery to the king’s taste
+could be given than to have one’s portrait painted in the king’s chosen
+vestments,—yet but one portrait remains which is stated to display this dress.
+This is the portrait of Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington—it is shown on this
+page. This was painted by the king’s own painter, Sir Peter Lely. I must say
+that I cannot find much resemblance to Pepys’s or Rugge’s description, unless
+the word “pinked” means cut out in an all-over pattern like Italian cut-work;
+then this inner vest might be of “cloth pinkt with a white taffeta under the
+coat.” The surcoat is of black lined with white. Of course the sash is present,
+but not in any way distinctive. It was a characteristic act in the Earl to be
+painted in this dress, for he was a courtier of courtiers, perhaps the most
+rigid follower of court rules in England. He was “by nature of a pleasant and
+agreeable humour,” but after a diplomatic journey on the continent he assumed
+an absurd formality of manner which was much ridiculed by his contemporaries.
+His letters show him to be exceeding nice in his phraseology; and he prided
+himself upon being the best-bred man in court. He was a trimmer, “the chief
+trickster of the court,” a member of the Cabal, the first <i>a</i> in the word;
+and he was heartily hated as well as ridiculed. When a young man he received a
+cut on the nose in a skirmish in Ireland; he never let his prowess be
+forgotten, but ever after wore a black patch over the scar—it may be seen in
+his portrait. When his fellow courtiers wished to gibe at him, they stuck black
+patches on their noses and with long white staves strutted around the court in
+imitation of his pompous manner. He is a handsome fellow, but too fat—which was
+not a curse of his day as of the present.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Funeral_Procession."></a>
+<img src="images/216.jpg" alt="Figures from Funeral Procession of the Duke of
+Albemarle, 1670." />
+<p class="caption">Figures from Funeral Procession of the Duke of Albemarle,
+1670.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Of course the king changed his dress many times after this solemn assumption of
+a lifelong garment. It was a restless, uncertain, trying time in men’s dress.
+They had lost the doublet, and had not found the skirted coat, and stood like
+the Englishman of Andrew Borde—ready to take a covering from any nation of the
+earth. I wonder the coat ever survived—that it did is proof of an inherent
+worth. Knowing the nature of mankind and the modes, the surprise really is that
+the descendants of Charles and all English folk are not now wearing shawls or
+peplums or anything save a coat and waistcoat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Some of the sturdy rich members of the governors’ cabinets and the assemblies
+and some of our American officers who had been in his Majesty’s army, or had
+served a term in the provincial militia, and had had a hot skirmish or two with
+marauding Indians on the Connecticut River frontier, and some very worthy
+American gentlemen who were not widely renowned either in military or
+diplomatic circles and had never worn armor save in the artist’s studio,—these
+were all painted by Sir Godfrey Kneller and by Sir Peter Lely, and by lesser
+lights in art, dressed in a steel corselet of the artist, and wearing their own
+good Flanders necktie and their own full well-buckled wig. There were some
+brave soldiers, too, who were thus painted, but there were far more in armor
+than had ever smelt smoke of powder. It was a good comfortable fashion for the
+busy artist. It must have been much easier when you had painted a certain
+corselet a hundred times to paint it again than to have to paint all kinds of
+new colors and stuffs. And the portrait in armor was almost always kitcat, and
+that disposed of the legs, ever a nuisance in portrait-painting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While the virago-sleeves were growing more and more ornamental, and engageants
+were being more and more worn by women, men’s sleeves assumed a most
+interesting form. The long coat, or cassock, had sleeves which were cut off at
+the elbow with great cuffs and were worn over enormous ruffled undersleeves;
+and they were even cut midway between shoulder and elbow, were slashed and
+pointed and beribboned to a wonderful degree. This lasted but a few years, the
+years when the cassock was shaping itself definitely into a skirted coat.
+Perhaps the height of ornamentation in sleeves was in the closing years of the
+reign of Charles II, though fancy sleeves lingered till the time of George I.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Earl_of_Southampton."></a>
+<img src="images/219.jpg" alt="Earl of Southampton." />
+<p class="caption">Earl of Southampton.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In an account of the funeral of George Monck, the Duke of Albemarle, in the
+year 1670, the dress is very carefully drawn of those who walked in the
+procession. (Some of them are given <a href="#Funeral_Procession.">here</a>.)
+It may be noted, first, that all the hats are lower crowned and straight
+crowned, not like a cone or a truncated cone, as crowns had been. The <i>Poor
+Men</i> are in robes with beards and flowing natural hair; they wear square
+bands, and carry staves. The <i>Clergymen</i> wear trailing surplices; but
+these are over a sort of cassock and breeches, and they all have high-heeled
+shoes with great roses. They also have their own hair. The <i>Doctors of
+Physic</i> are dressed like the <i>Gentlemen and Earls</i>, save that they wear
+a rich robe with bands at the upper arm, over the other fine dress. The
+gentlemen wear a cassock, or coat, which reaches to the knee; the pockets are
+nearly as low as the knee. These cassocks have lapels from neck to hem, with a
+long row of gold buttons which are wholly for ornament, the cassock never being
+fastened with the buttons. The sleeves reach only to the elbow and turn back in
+a spreading cuff; and from the elbow hang heavy ruffles and under-sleeves, some
+of rich lace, others of embroidery. The gentlemen and earls wear great wigs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This coat was called a surcoat or tunic. The under-coat, or waistcoat, was also
+called a vest, as by Charles the king.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From this vest, or surcoat, was developed a coat, with skirts, such as had
+become, ere the year 1700, the universal wear of English and American men. Its
+first form was adopted about at the close of the reign of Charles II. By 1688
+Quaker teachers warned their younger sort against “cross-pockets on men’s
+coats, side slopes, over-full skirted coats.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In an old play a man threatens a country lad, “I’ll make your buttons fly.” The
+lad replies, “All my buttons is loops.” Some garments, especially leather ones,
+like doublets, which were cumbersome to button, were secured by loops. For
+instance, in spatterdashes, a row of holes was set on one side, and of loops on
+the other. To fasten them, one must begin at the lower loop, pass this through
+the first hole, then put the second loop through that first loop and the second
+hole, and so on till the last loop was fastened to the breeches by buckle and
+strap or large single button. From these loops were developed frogs and loops.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Major John Pyncheon had, in 1703, a “light coulour’d cape-coat with Frogs on
+it.” In the <i>New England Weekly Journal</i> of 1736 “New Fashion’d Frogs” are
+named; and later, “Spangled Scalloped &amp;; Brocaded Frogs.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though these jerkins and mandillions and doublets which were furnished to the
+Bay colonists were fastened with hooks and eyes, buttons were worn also, as old
+portraits and old letters prove. John Eliot ordered for traffic with the
+Indians, in 1651, three gross of pewter buttons; and Robert Keayne, of Boston,
+writing in 1653, said bitterly that a “haynous offence” of his had been selling
+buttons at too large profit—that they were gold buttons and he had sold them
+for two shillings ninepence a dozen in Boston, when they had cost but two
+shillings a dozen in London (which does not seem, in the light of our modern
+profits on imported goods, a very “haynous” offence). He also added with
+acerbity that “they were never payd for by those that complayned.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Buttonholes were a matter of ornament more than of use; in fact, they were
+never used for closing the garment after coats came to be worn. They were
+carefully cut and “laid around” in gay colors, embroidered with silver and gold
+thread, bound with vellum, with kid, with velvet. We find in old-time letters
+directions about modish buttonholes, and drawings even, in order that the shape
+may be exactly as wished. An English contemporary of John Winthrop’s has
+tasselled buttonholes on his doublet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Various are the reasons given for the placing of the two buttons on the back of
+a man’s coat. One is that they are a survival of buttons which were used on the
+eighteenth-century riding-coat. The coat-tails were thus buttoned up when the
+wearer was on horseback. Another is that they were used for looping back the
+skirts of the coats; it is said that loops of cord were placed at the corners
+of the said skirts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A curious anecdote about these two buttons on the back of the coat is that a
+tribe of North American Indians, deep believers in the value of symbolism,
+refused to heed a missionary because he could not explain to them the
+significance of these two buttons.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>RUFFS AND BANDS</h3>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<i>“Fashion has brought in deep ruffs and shallow ruffs, thick ruffs and thin
+ruffs, double ruffs and no ruffs. When the Judge of the quick and the dead
+shall appear he will not know those who have so defaced the fashion he hath
+created.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—Sermon, JOHN KING, Bishop of London, 1590.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+“Now up aloft I mount unto the Ruffe<br/>
+Which into foolish Mortals pride doth puffe;<br/>
+Yet Ruffe’s antiquitie is here but small—<br/>
+Within these eighty Tears not one at all<br/>
+For the 8th Henry, as I understand<br/>
+Was the first King that ever wore a Band<br/>
+And but a Falling Band, plaine with a Hem<br/>
+All other people know no use of them.”<br/>
+<br/>
+—“The Prayse of Clean Linnen,” JOHN TAYLOR, the “Water Poet,” 1640.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>RUFFS AND BANDS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="88" src="images/initialw.jpg" alt="W" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+e have in this poem of the old “Water Poet” a definite statement of the date of
+the introduction of ruffs for English wear. We are afforded in the portraiture
+given in this book ample proof of the fall of the ruff.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="A_Bowdoin_Portrait"></a>
+<img src="images/224.jpg" alt="A Bowdoin Portrait." />
+<p class="caption">A Bowdoin Portrait.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Like many of the most striking fashions of olden times, the ruff was Spanish.
+French gentlemen had worn frills or ruffs about 1540; soon after, these
+appeared in England; by the date of Elizabeth’s accession the ruff had become
+the most imposing article of English men’s and women’s dress. It was worn
+exclusively by fine folk; for it was too frail and too costly for the common
+wear of the common people, though lawn ruffs were seen on many of low degree. A
+ruff such as was worn by a courtier contained eighteen or nineteen yards of
+fine linen lawn. A quarter of a yard wide was the fashionable width in England.
+Ruffs were carefully pleated in triple box-plaits as shown in the Bowdoin
+portrait <a href="#A_Bowdoin_Portrait">here</a>. Then they were bound with a
+firm neck-binding.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This carefully made ruff was starched with good English or Dutch starch; fluted
+with “setting sticks” of wood or bone, to hold each pleat up; then fixed with
+struts—also of wood—placed in a manner to hold the pleats firmly apart; and
+finally “seared” or goffered with “poking sticks” of iron or steel, which, duly
+heated, dried the stiffening starch. To “do up” a formal ruff was a wearisome,
+difficult, and costly precess. Women of skill acquired considerable fortunes as
+“gofferers.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stubbes tells us further of the rich decoration of ruffs with gold, silver, and
+silk lace, with needlework, with openwork, and with purled lace. This was in
+Elizabeth’s day. John Winthrop’s ruff (<a
+href="#Governor_John_Winthrop.">here</a>) is edged with lace; in general a
+plain ruff was worn by plain gentlemen; one may be seen on Martin Frobisher (<a
+href="#A_Doublet.">here</a>). Rich lace was for the court. Their great cost,
+their inconvenience, their artificiality, their size, were sure to make ruffs a
+“reason of offence” to reformers. Stubbes gave voice to their complaints in
+these words:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“They haue great and monstrous ruffes, made either of cambrike, holland, lawne,
+or els of some other the finest cloth that can be got for money, whereof some
+be a quarter of a yarde deepe, yea, some more, very few lesse, so that they
+stande a full quarter of a yearde (and more) from their necks hanging ouer
+their shoulder points in steade of a vaile.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Still more violent does he grow over starch:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The one arch or piller whereby his (the Devil’s) kyngdome of great ruffes is
+vnderpropped, is a certaine kind of liquid matter, whiche they call starch,
+wherein the deuill hath willed them to washe and dive their ruffes well,
+whiche, beeying drie, will then stande stiff and inflexible about their
+necks.<br/>
+<br/>
+“The other piller is a certaine device made of wiers, crested for the purpose;
+whipped over either with gold thred, silver, or silke, and this he calleth a
+supportasse or vnderpropper; this is to bee applied round about their neckes
+under the ruffe, upon the out side of the bande, to beare up the whole frame
+and bodie of the ruffe, from fallying and hangying doune.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Starch was of various colors. We read of “blue-starch-women,” and of what must
+have been especially ugly, “goose-green starch.” Yellow starch was most worn.
+It was introduced from France by the notorious Mrs. Turner. (See <a
+href="#AWomansDoubletMrsAnneTurner">here</a>.)
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Wither wrote thus of the varying modes of dressing the neck:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Some are graced by their Tyres<br/>
+As their Quoyfs, their Hats, their Wyres,<br/>
+One a Ruff cloth best become;<br/>
+Falling bands allureth some;<br/>
+And their favours oft we see<br/>
+Changèd as their dressings be.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The transformation of ruff to band can be seen in the painting of King Charles
+I. The first Van Dyck portrait of him shows him in a moderate ruff turned over
+to lie down like a collar; the lace edge formed itself by the pleats into
+points which developed into the lace points characteristic of Van Dyck’s later
+pictures and called by his name.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Evelyn, describing a medal of King Charles I struck in 1633, says, “The King
+wears a falling band, a new mode which has succeeded the cumbersome ruff; but
+neither do the bishops nor the Judges give it up so soon.” Few of the early
+colonial portraits show ruffs, though the name appears in many inventories, but
+“playne bands” are more frequently named than ruffs. Thus in an Inventory of
+William Swift, Plymouth, 1642, he had “2 Ruff Bands and 4 Playne Bands.” The
+“playne band” of the Puritans is shown in this portrait of William Pyncheon,
+which is dated 1657.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="William_Pyncheon."></a>
+<img src="images/228.jpg" alt="William Pyncheon." />
+<p class="caption">William Pyncheon.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The first change from the full pleated ruff of the sixteenth century came in
+the adoption of a richly laced collar, unpleated, which still stood up behind
+the ears at the back of the head. Often it was wired in place with a
+supportasse. This was worn by both men and women. You may see one <a
+href="#Pocahontas.">here</a>, on the neck of Pocahontas, her portrait painted
+in 1616. This collar, called a standing-band, when turned down was known as a
+falling-band or a rebato.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The rich lace falling-band continued to be worn until the great flowing wig,
+with long, heavy curls, covered the entire shoulders and hid any band; the
+floating ends in front were the only part visible. In time they too vanished.
+Pepys wrote in 1662, “Put on my new lace band and so neat; am resolved my great
+expense shall be lace bands, and it will set off anything else the more.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I scarcely need to point out the falling-band in its various shapes as worn in
+America; they can be found readily in the early pages of this book. It was a
+fashion much discussed and at first much disliked; but the ruff had seen its
+last day—for men’s wear, when the old fellows who had worn it in the early
+years of the seventeenth century dropped off as the century waned. The old
+Bowdoin gentleman must have been one of the last to wear this cumbersome though
+stately adjunct of dress—save as it was displaced on some formal state occasion
+or as part of a uniform or livery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is a constant tendency in all times and among all English-speaking folk
+to shorten names and titles for colloquial purposes; and soon the falling-band
+became the fall. In the <i>Wits’ Recreation</i> are two epigrams which show the
+thought of the times:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“WHY WOMEN WEARE A FALL<br/>
+<br/>
+“A Question ’tis why Women wear a fall?<br/>
+And truth it is to Pride they’re given all.<br/>
+And <i>Pride</i>, the proverb says, <i>will have a fall</i>.”<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+“ON A LITTLE DIMINUTIVE BAND<br/>
+<br/>
+“What is the reason of God-dam-me’s band,<br/>
+Inch deep? and that his fashion doth not alter,<br/>
+God-dam-me saves a labor, understand<br/>
+In pulling it off, where he puts on the Halter.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“God-dam-me” was one of the pleasant epithets which, by scores, were applied to
+the Puritans.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Reverend_Jonathan_Edwards."></a>
+<img src="images/230.jpg" alt="Reverend Jonathan Edwards." />
+<p class="caption">Reverend Jonathan Edwards.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The bands worn by the learned professions, two strips of lawn with squared
+ends, were at first the elongated ends of the shirt collar of Jonathan Edwards.
+We have them still, to remind us of old fashions; and we have another word and
+thing, band-box, which must have been a stern necessity in those days of
+starch, and ruff, and band.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was by no means a convention of dress that “God-dam-me” should wear a small
+band. Neither Cromwell nor his followers clung long to plain bands; nor did
+they all assume them. It would be wholly impossible to generalize or to
+determine the standing of individuals, either in politics or religion, by their
+neckwear. I have before me a little group of prints of men of Cromwell’s day,
+gathered for extra illustration of a history of Cromwell’s time. Let us glance
+at their bands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+First comes Cromwell himself from the Cooper portrait at Cambridge; this
+portrait has a plain linen turnover collar, or band, but two to three inches
+wide. Then his father is shown in a very broad, square, plain linen collar
+extending in front expanse from shoulder seam to shoulder seam. Sir Harry Vane
+and Hampden, both Puritans, have narrow collars like Cromwell’s; Pym, an
+equally precise sectarian, has a broader one like the father’s, but apparently
+of some solid and rich embroidery like cut-work. Edward Hyde, the Earl of
+Clarendon, in narrow band, Lucius Cary, Lord Falkland, in band and
+band-strings, were members of the Long Parliament, but passed in time to the
+Royal Camp. Other portraits of both noblemen are in richly laced bands. The
+Earl of Bristol, who was in the same standing, has the widest of lace, Vandyked
+collars. John Selden wears the plain band; but here is Strafford, the very
+impersonation of all that was hated by Puritans, and yet he wears the simplest
+of puritanical bands. William Lenthal, Speaker of the House of Commons, is in a
+beautiful Cavalier collar with straight lace edges. There are a score more,
+equally indifferent to rule.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is no doubt, however, that the Puritan regarded his plain band—if he wore
+it—with jealous care. Poor Mary Downing, niece of Governor Winthrop, paid
+dearly for her careless “searing,” or ironing, of her brother’s bands. Her
+stepmother’s severity at her offence brought forth this plaintive letter:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Father, I trust that I have not provoked you to harbour soe ill an opinion of
+mee as my mothers lettres do signifie and give me to understand; the ill
+opinion and hard pswasion which shee beares of mee, that is to say, that I
+should abuse yor goodness, and bee prodigall of yor purse, neglectful of my
+brothers bands, and of my slatterishnes and lasines; for my brothers bands I
+will not excuse myselfe, but I thinke not worthy soe sharpe a reproofe; for the
+rest I must needs excuse, and cleare myselfe if I may bee believed. I doe not
+know myselfe guilty of any of them; for myne owne part I doe not desire to be
+myne owne judge, but am willinge to bee judged by them with whom I live, and
+see my course, whether I bee addicted to such things or noe.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Ruffs and bands were not the only neckwear of the colonists. Very soon there
+was a tendency to ornament the band-strings with tassels of silk, with little
+tufts of ribbon, with tiny rosettes, with jewels even; and soon a graceful
+frill of lace hung where the band was tied together. This may be termed the
+beginning of the necktie or cravat; but the article itself enjoyed many names,
+and many forms, which in general extended both to men’s and women’s wear.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Captain_George_Curwen."></a>
+<img src="images/233.jpg" alt="Captain George Curwen." />
+<p class="caption">Captain George Curwen.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Let us turn to the old inventories for the various names of this neckwear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A Maryland gentleman left by will, with other attire, in 1642, “Nine laced
+stripps, two plain stripps, nine quoifes, one call, eight crosse-cloths, a
+paire holland sleeves, a paire women’s cuffs, nine plaine neck-cloths, five
+laced neck-cloths, two plaine gorgetts, seven laced gorgetts, three old clouts,
+five plaine neckhandkerchiefs, two plain shadowes.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+John Taylor, the “Water Poet,” wrote a poem entitled The Needles Excellency. I
+quote from the twelfth edition, dated 1640. In the list of garments which we
+owe to the needle he names:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Shadows, Shapparoones, Cauls, Bands, Ruffs, Kuffs,<br/>
+Kerchiefs, Quoyfes, Chin-clouts, Marry-muffes,<br/>
+Cross-cloths, Aprons, Hand-kerchiefs, or Falls.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His list runs like that of the Maryland planter. The strip was something like
+the whisk; indeed, the names seem interchangeable. Bishop Hall in his
+<i>Satires</i> writes:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“When a plum’d fan may hide thy chalked face<br/>
+And lawny strips thy naked bosom grace.”
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Dr. Smith wrote in 1658 in <i>Penelope and Ulysses</i>:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“A stomacher upon her breast so bare<br/>
+For strips and gorget were not then the wear.”
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+The gorget was the frill in front; the strip the lace cape or whisk. It will be
+noted that nine gorgets are named with these strips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The gorget when worn by women was enriched with lace and needlework.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“These Holland smocks as white as snow<br/>
+And gorgets brave with drawn-work wrought<br/>
+A tempting ware they are you know.”
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Thus runs a poem published in 1596.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mary Verney writes in 1642 her desire for “gorgetts and eyther cutt or painted
+callico to wear under them or what is most in fashion.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The shadow has been a great stumbling-block to antiquaries. Purchas’s
+<i>Pilgrimage</i> is responsible for what is to me a very confusing reference.
+It says of a certain savage race:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“They have a skin of leather hanging about their necks whenever they sit
+bare-headed and bare-footed, with their right arms bare; and a broad Sombrero
+or Shadow in their hands to defend them in Summer from the Sunne, in Winter
+from the Rain.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This would make a shadow a sort of hand-screen or sunshade; but all other
+references seem as if a shadow were a cap. As early as 1580, Richard Fenner’s
+Wardship Roll has “Item a Caul and Shadoe 4 shillings.” I think a shadow was a
+great cap like a cornet. Cross-cloths were a form of head-dress. I have seen
+old portraits with a cap or head-dress formed of crossed bands which I have
+supposed were cross-cloths.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cross-cloths also bore a double meaning; for certainly neck-cloths or
+neckerchiefs were sometimes called cross-cloths or cross-clothes. Another name
+is the picardill or piccadilly, a French title for a gorget. Fitzgerald, in
+1617, wrote of “a spruse coxcomb” that he glanced at his pocket looking-glass
+to see:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“How his Band jumpeth with his Peccadilly<br/>
+Whether his Band-strings ballance equally.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another satirical author could write in 1638 that “pickadillies are now out of
+request.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The portrait of Captain Curwen of Salem (<a
+href="#Captain_George_Curwen.">here</a>) is unlike many of his times. Over his
+doublet he wears a handsome embroidered shoulder sash called a trooping-scarf;
+and his broad lace tie is very unusual for the year 1660. I know few like it
+upon American gentlemen in portraits; and I fancy it is a gorget, or a
+piccadilly. It is pleasant to know that this handsome piece of lace has been
+preserved. It is here shown with his cane.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Lace_Gorget_and_Cane"></a>
+<img src="images/236.jpg" alt="Lace Gorget and Cane of Captain George Curwen."
+/>
+<p class="caption">Lace Gorget and Cane of Captain George Curwen.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+A little negative proof may be given as to one word and article. The gorget is
+said to be an adaptation of the wimple. Our writers of historical tales are
+very fond of attiring their heroines in wimples and kirtles. Both have a
+picturesque, an antique, sound—the wimple is Biblical and Shakesperian, and
+therefore ever satisfying to the ear, and to the sight in manuscript. But I
+have never seen the word wimple in an inventory, list, invoice, letter, or book
+of colonial times, and but once the word kirtle. Likewise are these modern
+authors a bit vague as to the manner of garment a wimple is. One fair maid is
+described as having her fair form wrapped in a warm wimple. She might as well
+be described as wrapped in a warm cravat. For a wimple was simply a small
+kerchief or covering for the neck, worn in the thirteenth and fourteenth
+centuries.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another quaint term, already obsolete when the <i>Mayflower</i> sailed, was
+partlet. A partlet was an inner kerchief, worn with an open-necked bodice or
+doublet. Its trim plaited edge or ruffle seems to have given rise to the
+popular name, “Dame Partlet,” for a hen. It appeared in the reign of Henry
+VIII; the courtiers imitating the king threw open their garments at the throat,
+and further opened them with slashes; hence the use of the partlet, which was a
+trim form of underhabit or gorget, worn well up to the throat. An old
+dictionary explains that the partlet can be “set on or taken off by itself
+without taking off the bodice, as can be pickadillies now-a-days, or men’s
+bands.” It adds that women’s neckerchiefs have been called partlets.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In October, 1662, Samuel Pepys wrote in his <i>Diary</i>, “Made myself fine
+with Captain Ferrers lace band; being loathe to wear my own new scallop; it is
+so fine.” This is one of his several references to this new fashion of band
+which both he and his wife adopted. He paid &pound;;3 for his scallop, and 45s.
+for one for his wife. He was so satisfied with his elegance in this new
+scallop, that like many another lover of dress he determined his chief
+extravagance should be for lace. The fashion of scallop-wearing came to
+America. For several years the word was used in inventories, then it became as
+obsolete as a caul, a shadow, a cornet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word “cravat” is not very ancient. Its derivation is said to be from the
+Cravates or Croats in the French military service, who adopted such neckwear in
+1636. An early use of the word is by Blount in 1656, who called a cravat “a new
+fashioned Gorget which Women wear.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The cravat is a distinct companion of the wig, and was worn whenever and
+wherever wigs were donned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Evelyn gave the year 1666 as the one when vest, cravat, garters, and buckles
+came to be the fashion. We could add likewise wigs. Of course all these had
+been known before that year, but had not been general wear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An early example of a cravat is shown in the portrait of old William Stoughton
+in my later chapter on Cloaks. His cravat is a distinctly new mode of
+neck-dressing, but is found on all American portraits shortly after that date.
+One is shown with great exactness in the portrait <a
+href="#Governor_Coddington.">here</a>, which is asserted to be that of “the
+handsomest man in the Plantations,” William Coddington, Governor of Rhode
+Island and Providence Plantations.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_Coddington."></a>
+<img src="images/239.jpg" alt="Governor Coddington." />
+<p class="caption">Governor Coddington.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+He was a precise man, and wearisome in his precision—a bore, even, I fear. His
+beauty went for little in his relation of man to man, and, above all, of
+colonist to colonist; and poor Governor Winthrop must have been sorely
+tormented with his frequent letters, which might have been written from Mars
+for all the signs they bore of news of things of this earth. His dress is very
+neat and rich—a characteristic dress, I think. It has slightly wrought
+buttonholes, plain sleeve ruffles and gloves. His full curled peruke has a mass
+of long curls hanging in front of the right shoulder, while the curls on the
+left side are six or eight inches shorter. This was the most elegant London
+fashion, and extreme fashion too. His neck-scarf or cravat was a characteristic
+one. It consisted of a long scarf of soft, fine, sheer, white linen over two
+yards long, passed twice or thrice close around the throat and simply lapped
+under the chin, not knotted. The upper end hung from twelve to sixteen inches
+long. The other and longer end was carried down to a low waistline and tucked
+in between the buttons of the waistcoat. Often the free end of this scarf was
+trimmed with lace or cut-work; indeed, the whole scarf might be of embroidery
+or lace, but the simpler lawn or mull appears to have been in better taste.
+This tie is seen in this portrait of Thomas Fayerweather, by Smybert, and in
+modified forms on many other pages.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Thomas_Fayerweather."></a>
+<img src="images/240.jpg" alt="Thomas Fayerweather." />
+<p class="caption">Thomas Fayerweather.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+We now find constant references to the Steinkirk, a new cravat. As we see it
+frequently stated that the Steinkirk was a black tie, I may state here that all
+the Steinkirks I have seen have been white. I know no portraits with black
+neck-cloths. I find no allusions in old-time literature or letters to black
+Steinkirks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A Steinkirk was a white cravat, not knotted, but fastened so loosely as to seem
+folded rather than tied, twisted sometimes twice or thrice, with one or both
+ends passed through a buttonhole of the coat. Ladies wore them, as well as men,
+arranged with equal appearance of careless negligence; and the soft diagonal
+folds of linen and lace made a pretty finish at the throat, as pretty as any
+high neck-dressing could be. These cravats were called Steinkirks after the
+battle of Steinkirk, when some of the French princes, not having time to
+perform an elaborate toilet before going into action, hurriedly twisted their
+lace cravats about their necks and pulled them through a buttonhole, simply to
+fix them safely in place. The fashionable world eagerly followed their example.
+It is curious that the Steinkirk should have been popular in England, where the
+name might rather have been a bitter avoidance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The battle of Steinkirk took place in 1694. An early English allusion to the
+neckwear thus named is in <i>The Relapse</i>, which was acted in 1697. In it
+the Semstress says, “I hope your Lordship is pleased with your Steenkirk.” His
+Lordship answers with eloquence, “In love with it, stap my vitals! Bring your
+bill, you shall be paid tomorrow!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Steinkirk, both for men’s and women’s wear, came to America very promptly,
+and was soon widely worn. The dashing, handsome figure of young King Carter
+gives an illustration of the pretty studied negligence of the Steinkirk. I have
+seen a Steinkirk tie on at least twenty portraits of American gentlemen,
+magistrates, and officers; some of them were the royal governors, but many were
+American born and bred, who never visited Europe, but turned eagerly to English
+fashions.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="KingCarterinYouthbySirGodfreyKneller"></a>
+<img src="images/242.jpg" alt="“King” Carter in Youth, by Sir Godfrey Kneller."
+/>
+<p class="caption">“King” Carter in Youth, by Sir Godfrey Kneller.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Certain old families have preserved among their ancient treasures a very long
+oval brooch with a bar across it from end to end—the longest way of the brooch.
+These are set sometimes with topaz or moonstone, garnet, marcasite,
+heliotropium, or paste jewels. Many wonder for what purpose these were used.
+They were to hold the lace Steinkirk in place, when it was not pulled through
+the buttonhole. The bar made it seem like a tongueless buckle—or perhaps it was
+like a long, narrow buckle to which a brooch pin had been affixed to keep it
+firmly in place.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The cravat, tied and twisted in Steinkirk form, or more simply folded, long
+held its place in fashionable dress.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“The stock with buckle made of paste<br/>
+Has put the cravat out of date,”
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+wrote Whyte in 1742.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With this quotation we will turn from neckwear until a later period.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“So many poynted cappes<br/>
+Lased with double flaps<br/>
+And soe gay felted cappes<br/>
+  Saw I never.<br/>
+<br/>
+“So propre cappes<br/>
+So lyttle hattes<br/>
+And so false hartes<br/>
+Saw I never.”<br/>
+</i> <br/>
+—“The Maner of the World Nowe-a-dayes,” JOHN SKELTON, 1548.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+“<i>The Turk in linen wraps his head<br/>
+  The Persian his in lawn, too,<br/>
+The Russ with sables furs his cap<br/>
+  And change will not be drawn to.<br/>
+<br/>
+“The Spaniard’s constant to his block<br/>
+  The Frenchman inconstant ever;<br/>
+But of all felts that may be felt<br/>
+  Give me the English beaver.<br/>
+<br/>
+“The German loves his coney-wool<br/>
+  The Irishman his shag, too,<br/>
+The Welsh his Monmouth loves to wear<br/>
+  And of the same will brag, too”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“A Challenge for Beauty,” THOMAS HAYWARD
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="88" src="images/initiala.jpg" alt="A" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+ny student of English history and letters would know that caps would positively
+be part of the outfit of every emigrating Englishman. A cap was, for centuries,
+both the enforced and desired headwear of English folk of quiet lives.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="City_Flat-cap"></a>
+<img src="images/245.jpg" alt="City Flat-cap worn by “Bilious” Bale." />
+<p class="caption">City Flat-cap worn by “Bilious” Bale.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Belgic Britons, Welshmen, Irish, Anglo-Saxons, Danes, and Normans all had worn
+caps, as well as ancient Greeks and Romans. These English caps had been of
+divers colors and manifold forms, some being grotesque indeed. When we reach
+the reign of Henry VIII we are made familiar in the paintings of Holbein with a
+certain flat-cap which sometimes had a small jewel or leather or a double fold,
+but never varied greatly. This was known as the city flat-cap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is shown also in the Holbein portrait of Adam Winthrop, grandfather of
+Governor John Winthrop; he was a man of dignity, Master of the Cloth Workers’
+Guild.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The muffin-cap of the boys of Christ’s Hospital is a form of this cap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was at first and ever a Londoner’s cap. A poet wrote in 1630:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Flat caps as proper are to city gowns<br/>
+As to armour, helmets, or to kings, their crowns.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Winthrop also wears the city gown.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This flat-cap was often of gay colors, scarlet being a favorite hue.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Behold the bonnet upon my head<br/>
+A staryng colour of scarlet red<br/>
+I promise you a fyne thred<br/>
+   And a soft wool<br/>
+   It cost a noble.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+These lines were written for the character “Pride,” in the <i>Interlude of
+Nature</i>, before the year 1500.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A statute was passed in 1571, “If any person above six years of age (except
+maidens, ladies, gentlemen, nobles, knights, gentlemen of twenty marks by year
+in lands, and their heirs, and such as have born office of worship) have not
+worn upon the Sunday or holyday (except it be in the time of his travell out of
+the city, town or hamlet where he dwelleth) one cap of wool, knit, thicked and
+dressed in England, and only dressed and furnished by some of the trade of
+cappers, shall be fined &pound;;3 4d. for each day’s transgression.” The caps
+thus worn were called Statute caps.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was, of course, to encourage wool-workers in the pride of the nation.
+Winthrop, master of a guild whose existence depended on wool, would, of course,
+wear a woollen cap had he not been a Londoner. It was a plain head-covering,
+but it was also the one worn by King Edward VI.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a formal coif or cap worn by men of dignity; always worn, I think, by
+judges and elderly lawyers, ere the assumption of the formal wig. This coif may
+be seen on the head of the venerable Dr. Dee, and also on the head of Lord
+Burleigh, and of Thomas Cecil, surmounted with the citizen’s flat-cap. One of
+these caps in heavy black lustring lingered by chance in my home—worn by some
+forgotten ancestor. It had a curious loop, as may be seen on Dr. Dee. This was
+not a narrow string for tying the coif on the head; it was a loop. And if there
+was any need of fastening the cap on the head, a narrow ribbon or ferret, a
+lacing, was put through both loops.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the inventory of the apparel of the first settlers which I have given in the
+early pages of this book, we find that each colonist to the Massachusetts Bay
+settlement had one Monmouth cap and five red milled caps. All the lists of
+necessary clothing for the planters have as an item, caps; but a well-made,
+well-lined hat was also supplied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monmouth caps were in general wear in England. Thomas Fuller said, “Caps were
+the most ancient, general, warm, and profitable coverings of men’s heads in
+this Island.” In making them thousands of people were employed, especially
+before the invention of fulling-mills, when caps were wrought, beaten, and
+thickened by the hands and feet of men. Cap-making afforded occupation to
+fifteen different callings: carders, spinners, knitters, parters of wool,
+forcers, thickers, dressers, walkers, dyers, battellers, shearers, pressers,
+edgers, liners, and band-makers.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="King_James_I_of_England."></a>
+<img src="images/248.jpg" alt="King James I of England." />
+<p class="caption">King James I of England.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The Monmouth caps were worth two shillings each, which were furnished to the
+Massachusetts colonists. These were much affected by seafaring men. We read, in
+<i>A Satyr on Sea Officers</i>, “With Monmouth cap and cutlass at my side,
+striding at least a yard at every stride.” “The Ballad of the Caps,” 1656,
+gives a wonderful list of caps. Among them are:
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+The Monmouth Cap, the Saylors thrum,<br/>
+And that wherein the tradesmen come,<br/>
+The Physick, Lawe, the Cap divine,<br/>
+And that which crowns the Muses nine,<br/>
+The Cap that Fools do countenance,<br/>
+The goodly Cap of Maintenance,<br/>
+And any Cap what e’re it be,<br/>
+Is still the sign of some degree.<br/>
+<br/>
+“The sickly Cap both plaine and wrought,<br/>
+The Fuddling-cap however bought,<br/>
+The quilted, furred, the velvet, satin,<br/>
+For which so many pates learn Latin,<br/>
+The Crewel Cap, the Fustian pate,<br/>
+The Perriwig, the Cap of Late,<br/>
+And any Cap what e’er it be<br/>
+Is still the sign of some degree.”<br/>
+<br/>
+—“Ballad of the Caps,” 1656.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+We seldom have in manuscript or print, in America, titles or names given to
+caps or hats, but one occasionally seen is the term “montero-cap,” spelled also
+mountero, montiro, montearo; and Washington Irving tells of “the cedar bird
+with a little mon-teiro-cap of feathers.” Montero-caps were frequently
+recommended to emigrants, and useful dress they were, being a horseman’s or
+huntsman’s cap with a simple round crown, and a flap which went around the
+sides and back of the cap and which could be worn turned up or brought down
+over the back of the neck, the ears and temples, thus making a most protecting
+head-covering. They were, in general, dark colored, of substantial woollen
+stuff, but Sterne writes in Tristram Shandy of a montero-cap which he describes
+as of superfine Spanish cloth, dyed scarlet in the grain, mounted all round
+with fur, except four inches in front, which was faced with light blue lightly
+embroidered. It is a montero-cap which is seen on the head of Bamfylde Moore
+Carew, the “King of the Mumpers,” a most genial English rogue, sneak-thief, and
+cheat of the eighteenth century, who spent some of his ill-filled years in the
+American colonies, whither he was brought after being trepanned, and where he
+had to bear the ignominy of wearing an iron collar welded around his neck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A montero-cap seems to have been the favorite dress of rogues. In Head’s
+<i>English Rogue</i> we read, “Beware of him that rides in a montero-cap and of
+him that whispers oft.” The picaro Guzman wore one; and as montero is the
+Spanish word for huntsman, Head may have obtained the word from that special
+scamp, Guzman, whose life was published in 1633. It is a very ancient name,
+being given in Cotgrave as a hood, or as the horseman’s helmet. It is worn
+still by Arctic travellers and Alpine climbers. Sets of knitted montero-caps
+were presented by the Empress Eugenie to the Arctic expedition of 1875, and the
+Jackies dubbed them “Eugenie Wigs.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another and widely different class of men wore likewise the montero-cap, the
+English and American Quakers. Thomas Ellwood, in the early days of his Quaker
+belief, suffered much for his hat, both from his fellow Quakers and his father,
+a Church of England man. The Quakers thought his “large Mountier cap of black
+velvet, the skirt of which being turned up in Folds looked somewhat above the
+common Garb of a Quaker.” A young priest at another time snatched this
+montero-cap off because he wore it in the presence of magistrates, and then
+Ellwood’s father fell upon it in this wise:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“He could not contain himself but running upon me with both hands, first
+violently snatcht off my Hat and threw it away and then giving me some buffets
+in the head said Sirrah get you up to your chamber. I had now lost one hat and
+had but one more. The next Time my Father saw it on my head he tore it
+violently from me and laid it up with the other, I know not where. Wherefore I
+put my Mountier Cap which was all I had left to wear on my head, and but a
+little while I had that, for when my Father came where I was, I lost that
+also.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="FulkeGrevilleLordBrooke"></a>
+<img src="images/251.jpg" alt="Fulke Greville (Lord Brooke)." />
+<p class="caption">Fulke Greville (Lord Brooke).
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Finally the father refused to let him wear his “Hive,” as he called the hat, at
+the table while eating, and thereafter Ellwood ate with his father’s servants.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The vogue of beaver hats was an important factor in the settlement of America.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The first Spanish, Dutch, English, and French colonists all came to America to
+seek for gold and furs. The Spaniards found gold, the Dutch and French found
+furs, but the English who found fish found the greatest wealth of all, for food
+is ever more than raiment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of the furs the most important and most valuable was beaver. The English sent
+some beaver back to Europe; the very first ship to return from Plymouth carried
+back two hogsheads. Winslow sent twenty hogsheads as early as 1634, and
+Bradford shows that the trade was deemed important. But the wild creatures
+speedily retreated. Johnson declares that as early as 1645 the beaver trade had
+left the frontier post of Springfield, on the Connecticut River.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the earliest days both the French and English crown had treated the
+fishing and fur industries with unusual discretion, giving a monopoly to the
+fur trade and leaving the fisheries free, so the latter constantly increased,
+while in New England the fur trade passed over to the Dutch, distinctly to the
+advantage of the English, for the lazy trader at a post was neither a good
+savage nor a good citizen, while the hardy fishermen and bold sailors of New
+England brought wealth to every town. For some years the Dutch appeared to have
+the best of it, for they received ten to fifteen thousand beaver skins annually
+from New England; and they had trading-posts on Narragansett and Buzzards Bay.
+Still the trade drew the Dutch away from agriculture, and the real success of
+New Netherland did not come with furs, but with corn.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="JamesDouglasEarlofMorton"></a>
+<img src="images/253.jpg" alt="James Douglas (Earl of Morton)." />
+<p class="caption">James Douglas (Earl of Morton).
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The fur trade was certainly an interesting factor in the growth of the Dutch
+settlement. Fort Orange, or Albany, called the <i>Fuyck</i>, was the natural
+topographical <i>fuyck</i> or trap-net to catch this trade, and in the very
+first season of its settlement fifteen hundred beaver and five hundred otter
+skins were despatched to Holland. In 1657 Johannes Dyckman asserted that 40,900
+beaver and otter skins were sent that year from Fort Orange to Fort Amsterdam
+(New York City). As these skins were valued at from eight to ten guilders
+apiece (about $3.50 and with a purchasing value equal to $20 to-day), it can
+readily be seen what a source of wealth seemed opened. The authorities at Fort
+Orange, the patroons of Renssalaerwyck and Beverwyck, were not to be permitted
+to absorb all this wondrous gain in undisturbed peace. The increment of the
+India Company was diverted and hindered in various ways. Unscrupulous and
+crafty citizens of Fort Orange (independent <i>handaelers</i> or handlers) and
+their thrifty, penny-turning <i>vrouws</i> decoyed the Indian trappers and
+hunters into their peaceful, honest kitchens under pretence of kindly Christian
+welcome to the peltry-bearing braves; and they filled the guileless savages
+with Dutch schnapps, or Barbadoes “kill-devil,” until the befuddled or
+half-crazed Indians parted with their precious stores of hard-trapped skins and
+threw off their well-perspired and greased beaver coats and exchanged them for
+such valuable Dutch wares as knives, scissors, beads, and jews’-harps, or even
+a few pints of quickly vanishing rum, instead of solid Dutch guilders or
+substantial Dutch blankets. And even before these strategic Dutch citizens
+could corral and fleece them, the incoming fur-bearers had to run as
+insinuating a gantlet of <i>boschloopers</i>, bush-runners, drummers, or
+“broakers,” who sallied out on the narrow Indian paths to buy the coveted furs
+even before they were brought into Fort Orange. Much legislation ensued.
+Scout-buying was prohibited. Citizens were forbidden “to addresse to speak to
+the wilden of trading,” or to entice them to “traffique,” or to harbor them
+over night. Indian houses to lodge the trappers were built just outside the
+gate, where the dickering would be public. These were built by rates collected
+from all “Christian dealers” in furs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Indian paths were many, and the water-ways were unpatrolled, and kitchen
+doors could be slyly opened in the dusk; so the government, in spite of laws
+and shelter-houses, did not get all the beaver skins. Too many were eager for
+the lucrative and irregular trade; agricultural pursuits were alarmingly
+neglected; other communities became rivals, and the beavers soon were
+exterminated from the valley of the Hudson, and by 1660 the Fort Orange trade
+was sadly diminished. The governor of Canada had an itching palm, and lured the
+Indians—and beaver skins—to Montreal. Thus “impaired by French wiles,” scarce
+nine thousand peltries came in 1687 to Fort Orange. With a few fluttering
+rallies until Revolutionary times the fur trade of Albany became extinct; it
+passed from both Dutch and French, and was dominated by the Hudson Bay Fur
+Company.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So clear a description of the fur of the beaver and the use of the pelt was
+given by Adriaen van der Donck, who lived at Fort Orange from the year 1641 to
+1646, and traded for years with the Indians, that it is well to give his exact
+words:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The beaver’s skin is rough but thickly set with fine fur of an ash-gray color
+inclining to blue. The outward points also incline to a russet or brown color.
+From the fur of the beaver the best hats are made that are worn. They are
+called beavers or castoreums from the material of which they are made, and they
+are known by this name over all Europe. Outside of the coat of fur many shining
+hairs appear called wind-hairs, which are more properly winter-hairs, for they
+fall out in summer and appear again in winter. The outer coat is of a
+chestnut-brown color, the browner the color the better is the fur. Sometimes it
+will be a little reddish.<br/>
+<br/>
+“When hats are made of the fur, the rough hairs are pulled out for they are
+useless. The skins are usually first sent to Russia, where they are highly
+valued for their outside shining hair, and on this their greatest
+recommendation depends with the Russians. The skins are used there for
+mantle-linings and are also cut into strips for borders, as we cut
+rabbit-skins. Therefore we call the same peltries. Whoever has there the most
+and costliest fur-trimmings is deemed a person of very high rank, as with us
+the finest stuffs and gold and silver embroideries are regarded as the
+appendages of the great. After the hairs have fallen out, or are worn, and the
+peltries become old and dirty and apparently useless, we get the article back,
+and convert the fur into hats, before which it cannot be well used for this
+purpose, for unless the beaver has been worn, and is greasy and dirty, it will
+not felt properly, hence these old peltries are the most valuable. The coats
+which the Indians make of beaver-skins and which they have worn for a long time
+around their bodies until the skins have become foul with perspiration and
+grease are afterwards used by the hatters and make the best hats.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+One notion about beaver must be told. Its great popularity for many years
+arose, it is conjectured, from its original use as a cap for curative purposes.
+Such a beaver cap would “unfeignedly” recover to a man his hearing, and
+stimulate his memory to a wonder, especially if the “oil of castor” was rubbed
+in his hair.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Elihu_Yale."></a>
+<img src="images/257.jpg" alt="Elihu Yale." />
+<p class="caption">Elihu Yale.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The beaver hat was for centuries a choice and costly article of dress; it went
+through many bizarre forms. On the head of Henry IV of France and Navarre, as
+made known in his portrait, is a hat which effectually destroys all possibility
+of dignity. It is a bell-crowned stove-pipe, of the precise shape worn later by
+coachmen and by dandies about the years 1820 to 1830. It is worn very much over
+one royal ear, like the hat of a well-set-up, self-important coachman of the
+palmy days of English coaching, and gives an air of absurd modernity and
+cockney importance to the picture of a king of great dignity. The hat worn by
+James I, ere he was King of England, is shown <a
+href="#King_James_I_of_England.">here</a>. It is funnier than any seen for
+years in a comic opera. The hat worn by Francis Bacon is a plain felt, greatly
+in contrast with his rich laced triple ruff and cuffs and embroidered garments.
+That of Thomas Cecil <a href="#Thomas_Cecil">here</a> varies slightly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two very singular shapings of the plain hat may be seen, one <a
+href="#FulkeGrevilleLordBrooke">here</a> on the head of Fulke Greville, where
+the round-topped, high crown is most disproportionate to the narrow brim. The
+second, <a href="#JamesDouglasEarlofMorton">here</a>, shows an extreme
+sugar-loaf, almost a pointed crown.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A good hat was very expensive, and important enough to be left among bequests
+in a will. They were borrowed and hired for many years, and even down to the
+time of Queen Anne we find the rent of a <i>subscription hat</i> to be
+&pound;;2 6s. per annum! The hiring out of a hat does not seem strange when
+hiring out clothes was a regular business with tailors. The wife of a person of
+low estate hired a gown of Queen Elizabeth’s to be married in. Tailor Thomas
+Gylles complained of the Yeoman of the queen’s wardrobe for suffering this. He
+writes, “The copper cloth of gold gowns which were made last, and another, were
+sent into the country for the marriage of Lord Montague.” The bequest of
+half-worn garments was highly regarded. On the very day of Darnley’s funeral,
+Mary Queen of Scots gave his clothes to Bothwell, who sent them to his tailor
+to be refitted. The tailor, bold with the riot and disorder of the time,
+returned them with the impudent message that “the duds of dead men were given
+to the hangman.” The duds of men who were hanged were given to the hangman
+almost as long as hangings took place. A poor New England girl, hanged for the
+murder of her child, went to the scaffold in her meanest attire, and taunted
+the executioner that he would get but a poor suit of clothes from her. The last
+woman hanged in Massachusetts wore a white satin gown, which I expect the
+sheriff’s daughter much revelled in the following winter at dancing-parties.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Thomas_Cecil"></a>
+<img src="images/259.jpg" alt="Thomas Cecil." />
+<p class="caption">Thomas Cecil.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Old Philip Stubbes has given us a wonderful description of English head-gear:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“HATS OF SUNDRIE FATIONS”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Sometymes they vse them sharpe on the Croune, pearking vp like the Spire, or
+Shaft of a Steeple, standyng a quarter of a yarde aboue the Croune of their
+heades, somemore, some lesse, as please the phantasies of their inconstant
+mindes. Othersome be flat and broad on the Crowne, like the battlemetes of a
+house. An other sorte haue rounde Crownes, sometymes with one kinde of Band,
+sometymes with another, now black, now white, now russet, now red, now grene,
+now yellowe, now this, now that, never content with one colour or fashion two
+daies to an ende. And thus in vanitie they spend the Lorde his treasure,
+consuming their golden yeres and siluer daies in wickednesse and sinne. And as
+the fashions bee rare and strange, so is the stuffe whereof their hattes be
+made divers also; for some are of Silke, some of Veluet, some of Taffatie, some
+of Sarcenet, some of Wooll, and, whiche is more curious, some of a certaine
+kinde of fine Haire; these they call Bever hattes, or xx. xxx. or xl.
+shillinges price, fetched from beyonde the seas, from whence a greate sorte of
+other vanities doe come besides. And so common a thing it is, that euery
+seruyngman, countrieman, and other, euen all indefferently, dooe weare of these
+hattes. For he is of no account or estimation amongst men if he haue not a
+Veluet or Taffatie hatte, and that must be Pincked, and Cunnyngly Carved of the
+beste fashion. And good profitable hattes be 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 sprong vp amongst them, which they father vpon a
+Frenchman, namely, to weare them with bandes, but how vnsemely (I will not saie
+how hassie) a fashion that is let the wise judge; notwithstanding, howeuer it
+be, if it please them, it shall not displease me.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“And another sort (as phantasticall as the rest) are content with no kinde of
+hat without a greate Bunche of Feathers of diuers and sondrie Colours, peakyng
+on top of their heades, not vnlike (I dare not saie) Cockescombes, but as
+sternes of pride, and ensignes of vanity. And yet, notwithstanding these
+Flutterying Sailes, and Feathered Flagges of defiaunce of Vertue (for so they
+be) are so advanced that euery child hath them in his Hat or Cap; many get good
+liuing by dying and selling of them, and not a few proue the selues more than
+Fooles in wearyng of them.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Notwithstanding this list of Stubbes, it is very curious to note that in
+general the shape of the real beaver hat remained the same as long as it was
+worn uncocked.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Cornelius_Steinwyck."></a>
+<img src="images/261.jpg" alt="Cornelius Steinwyck." />
+<p class="caption">Cornelius Steinwyck.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The hat was worn much more constantly within-doors than in the present day.
+Pepys states that they were worn in church; even the preacher wore his hat.
+Hats were removed in the presence of royalty. An hereditary honor and privilege
+granted to one of my ancestors was that he might wear his hat before the king.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is somewhat difficult to find out the exact date when the wearing of hats by
+men within-doors ceased to be fashionable and became distinctly low bred. We
+can turn to contemporary art. In 1707 at a grand banquet given in France to the
+Spanish Embassy, a ceremonious state affair with the women in magnificent
+full-dress, the men seated at the table and in the presence of royalty wore
+their cocked hats—so much for courtly France.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This wearing of the hat in church, at table, and elsewhere that seems now
+strange to us, was largely as an emblem of dignity and authority. Miss Moore in
+the <i>Caldwell Papers</i> writes of her grandfather:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I’ my grandfather’s time, as I have heard him tell, ilka maister of a family
+had his ain seat in his ain house; aye, and sat there with his hat on, afore
+the best in the land; and had his ain dish, and was aye helpit first and keepit
+up his authority as a man should so. Parents were parents then; and bairns
+dared not set up their gabs afore them as they do now.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+That the covering of the head in church still has a significance on important
+occasions, is shown by a rubric from the “Form and Order” for the Coronation of
+King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra; this provides that the king remains
+uncovered during the saying of the Litany and the beginning of the Communion
+Service, but when the sermon begun that he should put on his “Cap of crimson
+velvet turned up with Ermine, and so continue,” to the end of the discourse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hatbands were just as important for men’s hats as women’s—especially during the
+years of the reign of James I. Endymion Porter had his wife’s diamond necklace
+to wear on his hat in Spain. It probably looked like paste beside the
+gorgeousness of the Duke of Buckingham, who had “the Mirror of France,” a great
+diamond, the finest in England, “to wear alone in your hat with a little blacke
+feather,” so the king wrote him. A more curious hat ornament was a glove.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Hat_with_a_Glove_as_a_Favor."></a>
+<img src="images/263.jpg" alt="Hat with a Glove as a Favor." />
+<p class="caption">Hat with a Glove as a Favor.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+This handsome hat is from a portrait of George, Earl of Cumberland. It has a
+woman’s glove as a favor. This is said to have been a gift of Queen Elizabeth
+after his prowess in a tournament. He always wore this glove on state
+occasions. Gloves were worn on a hat in three meanings: as a memorial of a dead
+friend, as a favor of a mistress, or as a mark of challenge. A pretty laced or
+tasselled handkerchief was also a favor and was worn like a cockade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An excellent representation of the Cavalier hat may be seen on the figure of
+Oliver Cromwell <a href="#Cromwell_dissolving_Parliament.">(here</a>), which
+shows him dismissing Parliament. Cornelius Steinwyck’s flat-leafed hat has no
+feather.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The steeple-crowned hat of both men and women was in vogue in the second half
+of the seventeenth century in both England and America, at the time when the
+witchcraft tragedies came to a culmination. The long scarlet cloak was worn at
+the same date. It is evident that the conventional witch of to-day, an old
+woman in scarlet cloak and steeple-crowned hat, is a relic of that day. Through
+the striking circumstances and the striking dress was struck off a figurative
+type which is for all time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+William Kempe of “Duxburrow” in 1641 left hats, hat-boxes, rich hatbands, bone
+laces, leather hat-cases; also ten “capps.” Hats were also made of cloth. In
+the tailor’s bill of work done for Jonathan Corwin of Salem, in 1679, we read
+“To making a Broadcloth Hatt 14s. To making 2 hatts &amp;; 2 jackets for your
+two sonnes 19s.” In 1672 an association of Massachusetts hatters asked
+privileges and protection from the colonial government to aid and encourage
+American manufacture, but they were refused until they made better hats.
+Shortly after, however, the exportation of raccoon fur to England was
+forbidden, or taxed, as it was found to be useful in the home manufacture of
+hats.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The eighteenth century saw many and varied forms of the cocked hat; the
+nineteenth returned to a straight crown and brim. The description of these will
+be given in the due course of the narrative of this book.
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 35%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE VENERABLE HOOD</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Paul saith, that a woman ought to have a Power on her head. This Power that
+some of them have is disguised gear and strange fashions. They must wear French
+Hoods—and I cannot tell you—I—what to call it. And when they make them ready
+and come to the Covering of their Head they will say, ‘Give me my French Hood,
+and Give me my Bonnet or my Cap.’ Now here is a Vengeance-Devil; we must have
+our Power from Turkey of Velvet, and gay it must be; far-fetched and
+dear-bought; and when it cometh it is a False Sign.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—Sermon, ARCHBISHOP LATIMER, 1549.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“Hoods are the most ancient covering for the head and far more elegant and
+useful than the more modern fashion of hats, which present a useless elevation,
+and leave the neck and ears completely exposed.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Glossary of Ecclesiastical Ornament and Costume,” PUGIN, 1868.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE VENERABLE HOOD</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="88" src="images/initialw.jpg" alt="W" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+e are told by the great Viollet le Duc that the faces of fifteenth-century
+women were of a uniform type. Certainly a uniform head-dress tends to establish
+a seeming resemblance of the wearers; the strange, steeple head-dress of that
+century might well have that effect; and the “French hood” worn so many years
+by English, French, and American women has somewhat the same effect on women’s
+countenances; it gives a uniformity of severity. It is difficult for a face to
+be pretty and gay under this gloomy hood. This French hood is plainly a
+development of the head-rail, which was simply an unshaped oblong strip of
+linen or stuff thrown over the head, and with the ends twisted lightly round
+the neck or tied loosely under the chin with whatever grace or elegance the
+individual wearer possessed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Varying slightly from reign to reign, yet never greatly changed, this sombre
+plain French hood was worn literally for centuries. It was deemed so grave and
+dignified a head-covering that, in the reign of Edward III, women of ill
+carriage were forbidden the wearing of it.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Gulielma_Penn."></a>
+<img src="images/267.jpg" alt="Gulielma Penn." />
+<p class="caption">Gulielma Penn.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the year 1472 “Raye Hoods,” that is, striped hoods, were enjoined in several
+English towns as the distinctive wear of women of ill character. And in France
+this black hood was under restriction; only ladies of the French court were
+permitted to wear velvet hoods, and only women of station and dignity, black
+hoods.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This black hood was dignified in allegorical literature as “the venerable
+hood,” and was ever chosen by limners to cover the head of any woman of age or
+dignity who was to be depicted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the <i>Ladies’ Dictionary</i> a hood is defined thus: “A Dutch attire
+covering the head, face and all the body.” And the long cloak with this draped
+hood, which must have been much like the Shaker cloak of to-day, seems to have
+been deemed a Dutch garment. It was warm and comfortable enough to be adopted
+readily by the English Pilgrims in Holland. It had come to England, however, in
+an earlier century. Of Ellinor Rummin, the alewife, Skelton wrote about the
+year 1500:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“A Hake of Lincoln greene<br/>
+It had been hers I weene<br/>
+More than fortye yeare<br/>
+And soe it doth appeare<br/>
+And the green bare threds<br/>
+Looked like sere wedes<br/>
+Withered like hay<br/>
+The wool worn awaye<br/>
+And yet I dare saye<br/>
+She thinketh herself gaye<br/>
+Upon a holy day.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+It is impossible to know how old this hood is. When I have fancied I had the
+earliest reference that could be found, I would soon come to another a few
+years earlier. We know positively from the <i>Lisle Papers</i> that it was worn
+in England by the name “French hood” in 1540. Anne Basset, daughter of Lady
+Lisle, had come into the household of the queen of Henry VIII, who at the time
+was Anne of Cleves. The “French Apparell” which the maid of honor fetched from
+Calais was not pleasing to the queen, who promptly ordered the young girl to
+wear “a velvet bonnet with a frontlet and edge of pearls.” These bonnets are
+familiar to us on the head of Anne’s predecessor, Anne Boleyn. They were worn
+even by young children. One is shown <a href="#Lady_Anne_Clifford.">here</a>.
+The young lady borrowed a bonnet; and a factor named Husee—the biggest gossip
+of his day—promptly chronicles to her mother, “I saw her (Anne Basset)
+yesterday in her velvet bonnet that my Lady Sussex had tired her in, and
+thought it became her nothing so well as the French hood,—but the Queen’s
+pleasure must be done!”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Hannah_Callowhill_Penn."></a>
+<img src="images/269.jpg" alt="Hannah Callowhill Penn." />
+<p class="caption">Hannah Callowhill Penn.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Doubtless some of the Pilgrim Mothers wore bonnets like this one of Anne
+Basset’s, especially if the wearer were a widow, when there was also an under
+frontlet which was either plain, plaited, or folded, but which came in a
+distinct point in the middle of the forehead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This cap, or bandeau, with point on the forehead, is precisely the widow’s cap
+worn by Catherine de Medicis. She was very severe in dress, but she introduced
+the wearing of neck-ruffs. She also wore hoods, the favorite head-covering of
+all Frenchwomen at that time. This form of head-gear was sometimes called a
+widow’s peak, on account of a similar peak of black silk or white being often
+worn by widows, apparently of all European nations. Magdalen Beeckman, an
+American woman of Dutch descent (<a href="#Mrs._Magdalen_Beekman.">here</a>),
+wears one. The name is still applied to a pointed growth of hair on the
+forehead. It has also been known as a headdress of Mary Queen of Scots, because
+some of her portraits display this pointed outline of head-gear. It continued
+until the time of Charles II. It is often found on church brasses, and was
+plainly a head-gear of dignity. A modified form is shown in the portrait of
+Lady Mary Armine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stubbes in his <i>Anatomie of Abuses</i> gives a notion of the importance of
+the French hood when he speaks of the straining of all classes for rich attire:
+that “every artificer’s wife” will not go without her hat of velvet every day;
+“every merchant’s wife and meane gentlewoman” must be in her “French hood”; and
+“every poor man’s daughter” in her “taffatie hat or of wool at least.” We have
+seen what a fierce controversy burned over Madam Johnson’s “schowish” velvet
+hood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An excellent account of this black hood as worn by the Puritans is given in
+rhyme in “Hudibras <i>Redivivus</i>,” a long poem utterly worthless save for
+the truthful descriptions of dress; it runs:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The black silk Hood, with formal pride<br/>
+First roll’d, beneath the chin was tied<br/>
+So close, so very trim and neat,<br/>
+So round, so formal, so complete,<br/>
+That not one jag of wicked lace<br/>
+Or rag of linnen white had place<br/>
+Betwixt the black bag and the face,<br/>
+Which peep’d from out the sable hood<br/>
+Like Luna from a sullen cloud.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+It was doubtless selected by the women followers of Fox on account of its
+ancient record of sobriety and sanctity.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Are the pinch’d cap and formal hood the emblems of sanctity? Does your virtue
+consist in your dress, Mrs. Prim?”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+writes Mrs. Centlivre in <i>A Bold Stroke for a Wife</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The black hood was worn long by Quaker women ere they adopted the beaver hat of
+the eighteenth century, and the poke-bonnet of the nineteenth century. <a
+href="#Hannah_Callowhill_Penn.">Here</a> is given a portrait of Hannah
+Callowhill Penn, a Quaker, the second wife of William Penn. She was a sensible
+woman brought up in a home where British mercantile thrift vied with Quaker
+belief in adherence to sober attire, and her portrait plainly shows her
+character. Penn’s young and pretty wife of his youth wears a fashionable
+pocket-hoop and rich brocade dress; but she wears likewise the simple black
+hood (<a href="#Gulielma_Penn.">here</a>).
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The dominance of this black French hood came not, however, through its wear by
+sober-faced, discreet English Puritans and Quakers, but through a French
+influence, a court influence, the earnestness of its adoption by Madame de
+Maintenon, wife of King Louis XIV of France. The whole dress of this strange
+ascetic would by preference have been that of a penitent; but the king had a
+dislike of anything like mourning, so she wore dresses of some dark color other
+than black, generally a dull brown. The conventual aspect of her attire was
+added to by this large black hood, which was her constant wear, and is seen in
+her portraits. The life at court became melancholy, dejected, filled with icy
+reserve. And Madame, whether she rode “shut up in a close chair,” says Duclos,
+“to avoid the least breath of air, while the King walked by her side, taking
+off his hat each time he stopped to speak to her”; or when she attended
+services in the chapel, sitting in a closed gallery; or even in her own sombre
+apartments, bending in silence over ecclesiastic needlework,—everywhere, her
+narrow, yellow, livid face was shadowed and buried in this black hood.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Madame_de_Miramion."></a>
+<img src="images/272.jpg" alt="Madame de Miramion." />
+<p class="caption">Madame de Miramion.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Her strange power over the king was in force in 1681, and, until his death in
+1715, this sable hood, so unlike the French taste, covered the heads of French
+women of all ages and ranks. The genial, almost quizzical countenance of that
+noble and charitable woman, Madame de Miramion, wears a like hood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This French hood is prominent everywhere in book illustrations of the
+eighteenth century and even of earlier years. The loosely tied corners and the
+sides appear under the straw hats upon many of the figures in Tempest’s
+<i>Cryes of London</i>, 1698, such as the Milk woman, the “Newes” woman, etc.,
+which publication, I may say in passing, is a wonderful source for the student
+of everyday costume. I give the Strawberry Girl on this page to show the
+ordinary form of the French hood on plain folk. <i>Misson’s Memories</i>,
+published also in 1698, it gives the milkmaids on Mayday in like hoods. The
+early editions of Hudibras show these hoods, and in Hogarth’s works they may be
+seen; not always of black, of course, in later years, but ever of the same
+shape.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="The_Strawberry_Girl."></a>
+<img src="images/273.jpg" alt="The Strawberry Girl." />
+<p class="caption">The Strawberry Girl.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The hood worn by the Normans was called a chaperon. It was a sort of pointed
+bag with an oval opening for the face; sometimes the point was of great length,
+and was twisted, folded, knotted. In the Bodleian Library is a drawing of
+eleven figures of young lads and girls playing <i>Hoodman-blind</i> or
+<i>Blindman’s-buff</i>. The latter name came from the buffet or blow which the
+players gave with their twisted chaperon hoods. The blind man simply put his
+hood on “hind side afore,” and was effectually blinded. These figures are of
+the fifteenth century.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Black_Silk_Hood."></a>
+<img src="images/274.jpg" alt="Black Silk Hood." />
+<p class="caption">Black Silk Hood.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The wild latitude of spelling often makes it difficult to define an article of
+dress. I have before me a letter of the year 1704, written in Boston, asking
+that a riding-hood be sent from England of any color save yellow; and one
+sentence of the instructions reads thus, “If ’tis velvet let it be a
+shabbaroon; if of cloth, a French hood.” I abandoned “shabbaroon” as a wholly
+lost word; until Mrs. Gummere announced that the word was chaperon, from the
+Norman hood just described. This chaperon is specifically the hood worn by the
+Knights of the Garter when in full dress; in general it applies to any ample
+hood which completely covers head and face save for eye-holes. Another hood was
+the sortie.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Quilted_Hood."></a>
+<img src="images/275.jpg" alt="Quilted Hood." />
+<p class="caption">Quilted Hood.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The term “coif,” spelt in various ways, quoif, quoiffe, coiffer, ciffer,
+quoiffer, has been held to apply to the French hood; but it certainly did not
+in America, for I find often in inventories side by side items of black silk
+hoods and another of quoifs, which I believe were the white undercaps worn with
+the French hood; just as a coif was the close undercap for men’s wear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Through the two centuries following the assumption of the French hood came a
+troop of hoods, though sometimes under other names. In 1664 Pepys tells of his
+wife’s yellow bird’s-eye hood, “very fine, to church, as the fashion now is.”
+Planché says hoods were not displaced by caps and bonnets till George II’s
+time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the list of the “wedding apparell” of Madam Phillips, of Boston, are velvet
+hoods, love-hoods, and “sneal hoods”; hoods of Persian, of lustring, of gauze;
+frequently scarlet hoods are named. In 1712 Richard Hall sent, from Barbadoes
+to Boston, a trunk of his deceased wife’s finery to be sold, among which was
+“one black Flowered Gauze Hoode,” and he added rather spitefully that he “could
+send better but it would be too rich for Boston.” He was a grandson of Madam
+Symonds of Ipswich. Furbelowed gauze hoods were then owned by Boston women, and
+must have been pretty things. Their delicacy has kept them from being preserved
+as have been velvet and Persian hoods.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For the years 1673 to 1721 we have a personal record of domestic life in
+Boston, a diary which is the sole storehouse to which we can turn for intimate
+knowledge of daily deeds in that little town. A scant record it is, as to
+wearing apparel; for the diary-writer, Samuel Sewall, sometime business man,
+friend, neighbor, councillor, judge,—and always Puritan,—had not a regard of
+dress as had his English contemporary, the gay Samuel Pepys, or even that sober
+English gentleman, John Evelyn. In Pepys’s pages we have frequent and
+light-giving entries as to dress, interested and interesting entries. In Judge
+Sewall’s diary, any references to dress are wholly accidental and not related
+as matters of any moment, save one important exception, his attitude toward
+wigs and wig-wearing. I could wish Sewall had had a keener eye for dress, for
+he wrote in strong, well-ordered English; and when he was deeply moved he wrote
+with much color in his pen. The most spirited episodes in the book are the
+judge’s remarkable and varied courtships after he was left a widower at the age
+of sixty-five, and again when sixty-eight. While thus courting he makes almost
+his sole reference to women’s dress,—that Madam Mico when he called came to him
+in a splendid dress, and that Madam Winthrop’s dress, <i>after she had refused
+him</i>, was “not so clean as sometime it had been.” But an article of his own
+dress, nevertheless, formed an important factor in his unsuccessful courtship
+of Madam Winthrop—his hood. When all the other widowers of the community,
+dignified magistrates, parsons, and men of professions, all bourgeoned out in
+stately full-bottomed wigs, what woman would want to have a lover who came
+a-courting in a hood? A detachable hood with a cloak, I doubt not he wore, like
+the one owned by Judge Curwen, his associate in that terrible tale of Salem’s
+bigotry, cruelty, and credulity, the Witchcraft Trial. I cannot fancy Judge
+Sewall in a scarlet cloak and hood—a sad-colored one seems more in keeping with
+his temperament.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Perhaps our old friend, the judge, wore his hood under his hat, as did the
+sober citizens in Piers Plowman; and as did judges in England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is certain that many men wore hoods; and they wore occasionally a garment
+which was really woman’s wear, namely, a “riding hood”; which was also called a
+Dutch hood, and was like Elinor Rummin’s hake. This riding-hood was really more
+of a cloak than a head-covering, as it often had arm-holes. It might well be
+classed with cloaks. I may say here that it is not possible, either by years or
+by topics, to isolate completely each chapter of this book from the other. Its
+very arrangement, being both by chronology and subject, gives me considerable
+liberty, which I now take in this chapter, by retaining the riding-hood among
+hoods, simply because of its name.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Pink_Silk_Hood."></a>
+<img src="images/278.jpg" alt="Pink Silk Hood." />
+<p class="caption">Pink Silk Hood.
+</p></div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Pug_Hood."></a>
+<img src="images/279.jpg" alt="Pug Hood." />
+<p class="caption">Pug Hood.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+On May 6, 1717, the <i>Boston News Letter</i> gave a description of a gayly
+attired Indian runaway; she wore off a “red Camblet Ryding Hood fac’d with
+blue.” Another servant absconded with an orange-colored riding-hood with
+arm-holes. I have an ancient pattern of a riding-hood; it was found in the
+bottom of an old hair-covered trunk. It was marked “London Ryding Hood.” With
+it were rolled several packages of bits of woollen stuff, one of scarlet
+broadcloth, one of blue camlet, plainly labelled “Cuttings from Apphia’s ryding
+hood” and “Pieces from Mary’s ryding hood,” showing that they had been placed
+there with the pattern when the hood was cut. It is a cape, cut in a deep point
+in front and back; the extreme length of the points from the collar being about
+twenty-six inches. The hood is precisely like the one on Judge Curwen’s cloak,
+like the hoods of Shaker cloaks. As bits of silk are rolled with the wool
+pieces, I infer that these riding-hoods were silk lined.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A most romantic name was given to the riding-hood after the battle of Preston
+in 1715. The Earl of Nithsdale, after the defeat of the Jacobites, was
+imprisoned in the Tower of London under sentence of death. From thence he made
+his escape through his wife’s coolness and ingenuity. She visited him dressed
+in a large riding-hood which could be drawn closely over her face. He escaped
+in her dress and hood, fled to the continent, and lived thirty years in safety
+in France. After that dashing rescue, these hoods were known as Nithsdales. The
+head-covering portion still resembled the French hood, but the
+shoulder-covering portion was circular and ruffled—according to Hogarth. In
+Durfey’s <i>Wit and Mirth</i>, 1719, is a spirited song commemorating this
+“sacred wife,” who—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“by her Wits immortal pains<br/>
+With her quick head has saved his brains.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+One verse runs thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Let Traitors against Kings conspire<br/>
+Let secret spies great Statesmen hire,<br/>
+Nought shall be by detection got<br/>
+If Woman may have leave to plot.<br/>
+There’s nothing clos’d with Bars or Locks<br/>
+Can hinder Night-rayls, Pinners, Smocks;<br/>
+For they will everywhere make good<br/>
+As now they’ve done the Riding-hood.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In 1737 “pug hoods” were in fashion. We have no proof of their shape, though I
+am told they were the close, plain, silk hood sometimes worn under other hoods.
+One is shown <a href="#Pug_Hood.">here</a>. Pumpkin hoods of thickly wadded
+wool were prodigiously hot head-coverings; they were crudely pumpkin shaped.
+Knitted hoods, under such names as “comforters,” “fascinators,” “rigolettes,”
+“nubias,” “opera hoods,” “molly hoods,” are of nineteenth-century invention.
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 35%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Within my memory the Ladies covered their lovely Necks with a Cloak, this
+was exchanged for the Manteel; this again was succeeded by the Pelorine; the
+Pelorine by the Neckatee; the Neckatee by the Capuchin, which hath now stood
+its ground for a long time.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Covent Garden Journal,” May 1, 1752.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“Mary Wallace and Clemintina Ferguson Just arrived from the Kingdom of
+Ireland intend to follow the business of Mantua making and have furnished
+themselves from London in patterns of the following kinds of wear, and have
+fixed a correspondence so to have from thence the earliest Fashions in
+Miniature. They are at Peter Clarke’s within two doors of William Walton’s,
+Esq., in the Fly. Ladies and Gentlemen that employ them may depend on being
+expeditiously and reasonably served in making the following Articles, that is
+to say—Sacks, Negligees, Negligee-night-gowns, plain-nightgowns, pattanlears,
+shepherdesses, Roman cloaks, Cardinals, Capuchins, Dauphinesses, Shades
+lorrains, Bonnets and Hives.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“New York Mercury,” May, 1757.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="86" src="images/initialu.jpg" alt="U" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+nder the general heading of cloaks I intend to write of the various capelike
+shoulder-coverings, for both men and women, which were worn in the two
+centuries of costume whereof this book treats. Often it is impossible to
+determine whether a garment should be classed as a hood or a cloak, for so many
+cloaks were made with head-coverings. Both capuchins and cardinals, garments of
+popularity for over a century, had hoods, and were worn as head-gear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is shown <a href="#Scarlet_Broadcloth_Hooded_Cloak.">here</a> a full,
+long cloak of rich scarlet broadcloth, which is the oldest cloak I know. It has
+an interesting and romantic history. No relic in Salem is more noteworthy than
+this. It has survived since witchcraft days; and with right care, care such as
+it receives from its present owner, will last a thousand years. It was worn by
+Judge Curwen, one of the judges in those dark hours for Salem; and is still
+owned by Miss Bessie Curwen, his descendant. It will be noted that it bears a
+close resemblance to the Shaker cloaks of to-day, though the hood is handsomer.
+This hood also is detached from the cape. The presiding justice in the Salem
+witchcraft trials was William Stoughton, a severe Puritan. In later years Judge
+Sewall, his fellow-judge, in an agony of contrition, remorse, self-reproach,
+self-abnegation, and exceeding sorrow at those judicial murders, stood in
+Boston meeting-house, at a Sabbath service while his pastor read aloud his
+confession of his cruel error, his expression of his remorse therefor. A
+striking figure is he in our history. No thoughtful person can regard without
+emotions of tenderest sympathy and admiration that benignant white-haired head,
+with black skullcap, bowed in public disgrace, which was really his honor. But
+Judge Stoughton never expressed, in public or private, remorse or even regret.
+I doubt if he ever felt either. He plainly deemed his action right. I wish he
+could tell us what he thinks of it now. In his portrait here he wears a
+skullcap, as does Judge Sewall in his portrait, and a cloak with a cape like
+that of his third associate, Judge Curwen. Judge Sewall had both cloak and
+hood. Possibly all judges wore them. Judge Stoughton’s cloak has a rich collar
+and a curious clasp.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Scarlet_Broadcloth_Hooded_Cloak."></a>
+<img src="images/284.jpg" alt="Scarlet Broadcloth Hooded Cloak." />
+<p class="caption">Scarlet Broadcloth Hooded Cloak.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Stubbes of course told of the fashion of cloak-wearing:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“They have clokes also in nothing discrepant from the rest; of dyverse and
+sundry colours, white red tawnie black, green yellow russet purple violet and
+an infinyte of other colours. Some of cloth silk velvet taffetie and such like;
+some of the Spanish French or Dutch fashion. Some short, scarcely reaching to
+the gyrdlestead or waist, some to the knee, and othersome trayling upon the
+ground almost like gownes than clokes. These clokes must be garded laced &amp;;
+thorouly full, and sometimes so lined as the inner side standeth almost in as
+much as the outside. Some have sleeves, othersome have none. Some have hoodes
+to pull over the head, some have none. Some are hanged with points and tassels
+of gold silver silk, some without all this. But howsoever it bee, the day hath
+bene when one might have bought him two Clokes for lesse than now he can have
+one of these Clokes made for. They have such store of workmanship bestowed upon
+them.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+It is such descriptions as this that make me regard in admiration this ancient
+Puritan. Would that I had the power of his pen! Fashion-plates, forsooth! The
+<i>Journal of the Modes</i>!—pray, what need have we of any pictures or any
+mantua-maker’s words when we can have such a description as this. Why! the man
+had a perfect genius for millinery! Had he lived three centuries later, we
+might have had Master Stubbes in full control (openly or secretly, according to
+his environment) of some dress-making or tailoring establishment <i>pour les
+dames</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lining of these cloaks was often very gay in color and costly; “standing in
+as much as the outside.” We find a son of Governor Winthrop writing in 1606:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I desire you to bring me a very good camlet cloake lyned with what you like
+except blew. It may be purple or red or striped with those or other colors if
+so worn suitable and fashionable.... I would make a hard shift rather than not
+have the cloak.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Similar cloaks of scarlet, and of blue lined with scarlet, formed part of the
+uniform of soldiers for many years and for many nations. They were certainly
+the wear of thrifty comfortable English gentlemen. Did not John Gilpin wear one
+on his famous ride?
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“There was all that he might be<br/>
+  Equipped from head to toe,<br/>
+His long red cloak well-brushed and neat<br/>
+  He manfully did throw.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Scarlet was a most popular color for all articles of dress in the early years
+of the eighteenth century. Like the good woman in the Book of Proverbs, both
+English and American housewife “clothed her household in scarlet.” Women as
+well as men wore these scarlet cloaks. It is curious to learn from Mrs. Gummere
+that even Quakers wore scarlet. When Margaret Fell married George Fox, greatest
+of Quakers, he bought her a scarlet mantle. And in 1678 he sent her scarlet
+cloth for another mantle. There was good reason in the wear of scarlet; it both
+was warm and looked warm; and the color was a lasting one. It did not fade like
+many of the homemade dyes.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Judge_Stoughton."></a>
+<img src="images/287.jpg" alt="Judge Stoughton." />
+<p class="caption">Judge Stoughton.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+A very interesting study is that of color in wearing apparel. Beginning with
+the few crude dyes of mediaeval days, we could trace the history of dyeing, and
+the use and invention of new colors and tints. The names of these colors are
+delightful; the older quaint titles seem wonderfully significant. We read of
+such tints as billymot, phillymurt, or philomot (feuille-mort), murry,
+blemmish, gridolin (gris-de-lin or flax blossom), puce colour, foulding colour,
+Kendal green, Lincoln green, treen-colour, watchet blue, barry, milly, tuly,
+stammel red, Bristol red, zaffer-blue, which was either sapphire-blue or
+zaffre-blue, and a score of fanciful names whose signification and
+identification were lost with the death of the century. Historical events were
+commemorated in new hues; we have the political, diplomatic, and military
+history of various countries hinted to us. Great discoveries and inventions
+give names to colors. The materials and methods of dyeing, especially domestic
+dyes, are most interesting. An allied topic is the significance of colors, the
+limitation of their use. For instance, the study of blue would fill a chapter.
+The dress of ’prentices and serving-men in Elizabeth’s day was always blue blue
+cloaks in winter, blue coats in summer. Blue was not precisely a livery; it was
+their color, the badge of their condition in life, as black is now a parson’s.
+Different articles of dress clung to certain colors. Green stockings had their
+time and season of clothing the sturdy legs of English dames as inevitably as
+green stalks filled the fields. Think of the years of domination of the green
+apron; of the black hood—it is curious indeed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In such exhaustive books upon special topics as the <i>History of the Twelve
+Great Livery Companies of London</i> we find wonderfully interesting and
+significant proof of the power of color; also in many the restrictive sumptuary
+laws of the Crown.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It would appear that this long, scarlet cloak never was out of wear for men and
+women until the nineteenth century. It was, at times, not the height of the
+fashion, but still was worn. Various ancient citizens of Boston, of Salem, are
+recalled through letter or traditions as clinging long to this comfortable
+cloak. Samuel Adams carried a scarlet cloak with him when he went to
+Washington.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I shall tell in a later chapter of my own great-great-grandmother’s wear of a
+scarlet cloak until the opening years of the nineteenth century. During and
+after the Revolution these cloaks remained in high favor for women. French
+officers, writing home to France glowing accounts of the fair Americans, noted
+often that the ladies wore scarlet cloaks, and Madame Riedesel asserted that
+all gentlewomen in Canada never left the house save in a scarlet silk or cloth
+cloak.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“A woman’s long scarlet cloak, almost new with a double cape,” had been one of
+the articles feloniously taken from the house of Benjamin Franklin, printer, in
+Philadelphia, in 1750. Debby Franklin’s dress, if we can judge from what was
+stolen, was a gay revel of color. Among the articles was one gown having a
+pattern of “large red roses and other large yellow flowers with blue in some of
+the flowers with many green leaves.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the <i>Life of Jonathan Trumbull</i> we read that when a collection was
+taken in the Lebanon church for the benefit of the soldiers of the Continental
+army, when money, jewels, clothing, and food were gathered in a great heap near
+the pulpit, Madam Faith Trumbull rose up, threw from her shoulders her splendid
+scarlet cloth cloak, a gift from Count Rochambeau, advanced to the altar and
+laid the cloak with other offerings of patriotism and generosity. It was used,
+we are told, to trim the uniforms of the Continental officers and soldiers.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="WomansCloakFromHogarth"></a>
+<img src="images/291.jpg" alt="Woman’s Cloak. From Hogarth." />
+<p class="caption">Woman’s Cloak. From Hogarth.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+One of the first entries in regard to dress made by Philip Fithian in 1773,
+when he went to Virginia as a school-teacher, was that “almost every Lady wears
+a Red Cloak; and when they ride out they tye a Red Handkerchief over their Head
+&amp;; Face; so when I first came to Virginia, I was distrest whenever I saw a
+Lady, for I thought she had the Tooth-Ach!” When the young tutor left his
+charge a year later, he wrote a long letter of introduction, instruction, and
+advice to his successor; and so much impression had this riding-dress still
+upon him that he recounted at length the “Masked Ladies,” as he calls them,
+explaining that the whole neck and face was covered, save a narrow slit for the
+eyes, as if they had “the Mumps or Tooth-Ach.” It is possible that the insect
+torments encountered by the fair riders may have been the reason for this
+cloaking and masking. Not only mosquitoes and flies and fleas were abundant,
+but Fithian tells of the irritating illness and high fever of the fairest of
+his little flock from being bitten with ticks, “which cover her like a distinct
+smallpox.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In seventeenth-century inventories an occasional item is a rocket. I think no
+better description of a rocket can be given than that of Celia Fiennes:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“You meete all sorts of countrywomen wrapped up in the mantles called West
+Country Rockets, a large mantle doubled together, of a sort of serge, some are
+linsey-woolsey and a deep fringe or fag at the lower end; these hang down, some
+to their feet, some only just below the waist; in the summer they are all in
+white garments of this sort, in the winter they are in red ones.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This would seem much like a blanket shawl, but the word was also applied to the
+scarlet round cloak.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another much-used name and cloaklike garment was the roquelaure. A very good
+contemporary definition may be copied from <i>A Treatise on the Modes</i>,
+1715; it says it is “a short abridgement or compendium of a coat which is
+dedicated to the Duke of Roquelaure.” It was simply a shorter cloak than had
+been worn, and it was hoodless; for the great curled wigs with heavy locks well
+over the shoulders made hoods superfluous; and even impossible, for men’s wear.
+It was very speedily taken into favor by women; and soon the advertisements of
+lost articles show that it was worn by women universally as by men. In the
+<i>Boston News Letter</i>, in 1730, a citizen advertises that he has lost his
+“Blue Cloak or Roculo with brass buttons.” This was the first of an ingenious
+series of misspellings which produced at times a word almost unrelated to the
+original French word. Rocklow, rockolet, roquelo, rochelo, roquello, and even
+rotkello have I found. Ashton says that scarlet cloth was the favorite fabric
+for roquelaures in England; and he deems the scarlet roclows and rocliers with
+gold loops and buttons “exceeding magnifical.” I note in the American
+advertisements that the lost roquelaures are of very bright colors; some were
+of silk, some of camlet; generally they are simply ‘cloth.’ Many of the
+American roquelaures had double capes. I think those handsome, gay cloaks must
+have given a very bright, cheerful aspect to the town streets of the middle of
+the eighteenth century.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sir William Pepperell, who was ever a little shaky in his spelling, but
+possibly no more so than his neighbors, sent in 1737 from Piscataqua to one
+Hooper in England for “A Handsom Rockolet for my daughter of about 15 yrs. old,
+or what is ye Most Newest Fashion for one of her age to ware at meeting in ye
+Winter Season.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The capuchin was a hooded cloak named from the hooded garment worn by the
+Capuchin monks. The date 1752 given by Fairholt as an early date of its wear is
+far wrong. Fielding used the word in <i>Tom Jones</i> in 1749; other English
+publications, in 1709; and I find it in the <i>Letters of Madame de Sévigné</i>
+as early as 1686. The cardinal, worn at the same date, was originally of
+scarlet cloth, and I find was generally of some wool stuff. At one time I felt
+sure that cardinal was always the name for the woollen cloak, and capuchin of
+the silken one; but now I am a bit uncertain whether this is a rule. Judging
+from references in literature and advertisements, the capuchin was a richer
+garment than the cardinal. Capuchins were frequently trimmed liberally with
+lace, ribbons, and robings; were made of silk with gauze ruffles, or of figured
+velvet. One is here shown which is taken from one of Hogarth’s prints.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="A_Capuchin._From_Hogarth."></a>
+<img src="images/294.jpg" alt="A Capuchin. From Hogarth." />
+<p class="caption">A Capuchin. From Hogarth.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+This notice is from the <i>Boston Evening Post</i> of January 13, 1772:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Taken from Concert Hall on Thursday Evening a handsom Crimson Satin Capuchin
+trimmed with a rich white Blond Lace with a narrow Blond Lace on the upper edge
+Lined with White Sarsnet.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In 1752 capuchins and cardinals were much worn, especially purple ones. The
+<i>Connoisseur</i> says all colors were neglected for purple. “In purple we
+glowed from hat to shoe. In such request were ribbons and silks of that famous
+color that neither milliner mercer nor dyer could meet the demand.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The names “cardinal” and “capuchin” had been derived from monkish wear, and the
+cape, called a pelerine, had an allied derivation; it is said to be derived
+from <i>pèlerin</i>—meaning a pilgrim. It was a small cape with longer ends
+hanging in front; and was invented as a light, easily adjustable covering for
+the ladies’ necks, which had been left so widely and coldly bare by the low-cut
+French bodices. It is said that the garment was invented in France in 1671. I
+do not find the word in use in America till 1730. Then mantua-makers advertised
+that they would make them. Various materials were used, from soft silk and thin
+cloth to rich velvet; but silk pelerines were more common.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1743, in the <i>Boston News Letter</i>, Henrietta Maria East advertised that
+“Ladies may have their Pellerines made” at her mantua-making shop. In 1749
+“pellerines” were advertised for sale in the <i>Boston Gazette</i> and a black
+velvet “pellerine” was lost.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the quotation heading this chapter, manteel, pelerine, and neckatee precede
+the capuchin; but in fact the capuchin is as old as the pelerine. Beyond the
+fact that all mantua-makers made neckatees, and that they were a small cape,
+this garment cannot be described. It required much less stuff than either
+capuchin or cardinal. The “manteel” was, of course, as old as the cloak. Elijah
+“took his mantle and wrapped it together, and smote the waters.” In the Middle
+Ages the mantle was a great piece of cloth in any cloaklike shape, of which the
+upper corners were fastened at the neck. Often one of the front edges was
+thrown over one shoulder. In the varied forms of spelling and wearing, as
+manto, manteau, mantoon, mantelet, and mantilla the foundation is the same. We
+have noted the richness and elegance of Madam Symonds’s mantua. We could not
+forget the word and its signification while we have so important a use of it in
+mantua-maker.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Lady_Caroline_Montagu."></a>
+<img src="images/296.jpg" alt="Lady Caroline Montagu." />
+<p class="caption">Lady Caroline Montagu.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Dauphiness was the name of a certain style of mantle, which was most popular
+about 1750. Harriot Paine had “Dauphiness Mantles” for sale in Boston in 1755.
+A rude drawing in an old letter indicates that the “Dauphiness” had a deep
+point at the back, and was cut up high at the arm-hole. It was of thin silk,
+and was trimmed all around the lower edge with a deep, full frill of the silk,
+which at the arm-hole fell over the arm like a short sleeve.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many were the names of those pretty little cloaks and capes which were worn
+with the sacque-shaped gowns. The duchess was one; we revived the name for a
+similar mantle in 1870. The pelisse was in France the cloak with arm-holes,
+shown, <a href="#Lady_Caroline_Montagu.">here</a>, upon one of Sir Joshua
+Reynolds’s engaging children. The pelisse in America sometimes had sleeves, I
+am sure; and was hardly a cloak. It is difficult to classify some forms which
+seem almost jackets. A general distinction may be made not to include sleeved
+garments with the cloaks; but several of the manteaus had loose, large, flowing
+sleeves, and some like Madam Symonds’s had detached sleeves. It is also
+difficult to know whether some of the negligees were cloaks or sacque-like
+gowns. And there is the other extreme; some of the smaller, circular
+neck-coverings like the van-dykes are not cloaks. They are scarcely capes; they
+are merely collars; but there are still others which are a bit bigger and are
+certainly capes. And are there not also capes, like the neckatee, which may be
+termed cloaks? Material, too, is bewildering; a light gauze thing of ribbons
+and furbelows like the Unella is not really a cloak, yet it takes a cloaklike
+form. There are no cut and dried rules as to size, form, or weight of these
+cloaks, capes, collars, and hoods, so I have formed my own classes and
+assignments.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Rise up to thy Elders, put off thy Hat, make a Leg”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Janua Linguarum,” COMENIUS, 1664.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“Little ones are taught to be proud of their clothes before they can put
+them on.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Essay on Human Understanding,” LOCKE, 1687.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“When thou thyself, a watery, pulpy, slobbery Freshman and newcomer on this
+Planet, sattest mewling in thy nurse’s arms; sucking thy coral, and looking
+forth into the world in the blankest manner, what hadst thou been without thy
+blankets and bibs and other nameless hulls?”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Sartor Resartus,” THOMAS CARLYLE, 1836.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="88" src="images/initialw.jpg" alt="W" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+hen we reflect that in any community the number of “the younger sort” is far
+larger than of grown folk, when we know, too, what large families our ancestors
+had, in all the colonies, we must deem any picture of social life, any history
+of costume, incomplete unless the dress of children is shown. French and
+English books upon costume are curiously silent regarding such dress. It might
+be alleged as a reason for this singular silence that the dress of young
+children was for centuries precisely that of their elders, and needed no
+specification. But infants’ dress certainly was widely different, and full of
+historic interest, as well as quaint prettiness; and there were certain details
+of the dress of older children that were most curious and were wholly unlike
+the contemporary garb of their elders; sometimes these details were survivals
+of ancient modes for grown folk, sometimes their name was a survival while
+their form had changed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For the dress of children of the early years of colonial life—the seventeenth
+century—I have an unusual group of five portraits. One is the little Padishal
+child, shown with her mother in the frontispiece, one is Robert Gibbes (shown
+<a href="#Robert_Gibbes.">here</a>). The third child is said to be John
+Quincy—his picture is opposite this page. The two portraits of Margaret and
+Henry Gibbes are owned in Virginia; but are too dimly photographed for
+reproduction. The portrait of Robert Gibbes is owned by inheritance by Miss
+Sarah B. Hager, of Kendal Green, Massachusetts. It is well preserved, having
+hung for over a hundred years on the same wall in the old house. He was four
+years old when this portrait was painted. It is marked 1670. John Quincy’s
+portrait is marked also plainly as one and a half years old, and with a date
+which is a bit dimmed; it is either 1670 or 1690. If it is 1690, the picture
+can be that of John Quincy, though he would scarcely be as large as is the
+portrayed figure. If the date is 1670, it cannot be John Quincy, for he was
+born in 1689. The picture has the same checker-board floor as the three other
+Gibbes portraits, four rows of squares wide; and the child’s toes are set at
+the same row as are the toes of the shoes in the picture of Robert Gibbes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The portraits of Henry and Margaret Gibbes are also marked plainly 1670. There
+was a fourth Gibbes child, who would have been just the age of the subject of
+the Quincy portrait; and it is natural that there should be a suspicion that
+this fourth portrait is of the fourth Gibbes child, not of John Quincy.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="John_Quincy."></a>
+<img src="images/301.jpg" alt="John Quincy." />
+<p class="caption">John Quincy.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Margaret Gibbes was born in 1663. Henry Gibbes was born in 1667. He became a
+Congregational minister. His daughter married Nathaniel Appleton, and through
+Nathaniel, John, Dr. John S., and John, the portrait, with that of Margaret,
+came to the present owner, General John W. S. Appleton, of Charlestown, West
+Virginia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The dress of these five children is of the same rich materials that would be
+worn by their mothers. The Padishal child wears black velvet like her mother’s
+gown; but her frock is brightened with scarlet points of color. The linings of
+the velvet hanging sleeves, the ribbon knots of the white virago-sleeve, the
+shoe-tip, the curious cap-tassel, are of bright scarlet. We have noted the
+dominance of scarlet in old English costumes. It was evidently the only color
+favored for children. The lace cap, the rich lace stomacher, the lace-edged
+apron, all are of Flemish lace. Margaret Gibbes wears a frock of similar shape,
+and equally rich and dark in color; it is a heavy brocade of blue and red, with
+a bit of yellow. Her fine apron, stomacher, and full sleeves are rich in
+needlework. Robert Gibbes’s “coat,” as a boy’s dress at that age then was
+called, is a striking costume. The inmost sleeves are of white lawn, over them
+are sleeves made of strips of galloon of a pattern in yellow, white, scarlet,
+and black, with a rolled cuff of red velvet. There is a similar roll around the
+hem of the coat. Still further sleeves are hanging sleeves of velvet trimmed
+with the galloon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It will be noted that his hanging sleeve is cut square and trimmed squarely
+across the end. It is similar to the sleeves worn at the same time by citizens
+of London in their formal “liveryman’s” dress, which had bands like pockets,
+that sometimes really were pockets.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His plain, white, hemstitched band would indicate that he was a boy, did not
+the swing of his petticoats plainly serve to show it, as do also his brothers’
+“coats.” That child knew well what it was to tread and trip on those hated
+petticoats as he went upstairs. I know how he begged for breeches. The apron of
+John Quincy varies slightly in shape from that of the other boy, but the
+general dress is like, save his pretty, gay, scarlet hood, worn over a white
+lace cap. One unique detail of these Gibbes portraits, and the Quincy portrait,
+is the shoes. In all four, the shoes are of buff leather, with absolutely
+square toes, with a thick, scarlet sole to which the buff-leather upper seems
+tacked with a row either of long, thick, white stitches or of heavy
+metal-headed nails; these white dots are very ornamental. One pair of the shoes
+has great scarlet roses on the instep. The square toe was distinctly a Cavalier
+fashion. It is in Miss Campion’s portrait, facing this page, and in the print
+of the Prince of Orange <a href="#311">here</a>, and is found in many portraits
+of the day. But these American shoes are in the minor details entirely unlike
+any English shoes I have seen in any collection elsewhere, and are most
+interesting. They were doubtless English in make.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The portrait of John Quincy resembles much in its dress that of Oliver Cromwell
+when two years old, the picture now at Chequers Court. Cromwell’s linen collar
+is rounded, and a curious ornament is worn in front, as a little girl would
+wear a locket. The whole throat and a little of the upper neck is bare. Dark
+hair, slightly curled, comes out from the close cap in front of the ears. This
+picture of Cromwell distinctly resembles his mother’s portrait.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="MissCampion1667"></a>
+<img src="images/304.jpg" alt="Miss Campion, 1667." />
+<p class="caption">Miss Campion, 1667.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The quaint tassel or rosette or feather on the cap of the Padishal child was a
+fashion of the day. It is seen in many Dutch portraits of children. In a
+curious old satirical print of Oliver Cromwell preaching are the figures of two
+little children drawn standing by their mother’s side. One child’s back is
+turned for our sight, and shows us what might well be the back of the gown of
+the Padishal child. The cap has the same ornament on the crown, and the hanging
+sleeves—of similar form—have, at intervals of a few inches apart from shoulder
+to heel, an outside embellishment of knots of ribbon. There is also a band or
+strip of embroidery or passementerie up the back of the gown from skirt-hem to
+lace collar, with a row of buttons on the strip. This proves that the dress was
+fastened in the back, as the stiff, unbroken, white stomacher also indicates.
+The other child is evidently a boy. His gown is long and fur-edged. His cap is
+round like a Scotch bonnet, and has also a tuft or rosette at the crown. On
+either side hang long strings or ribbon bands reaching from the cap edge to the
+knee.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These portraits of these little American children display nothing of that
+God-given attribute which we call genius, but they do possess a certain welcome
+trait, which is truthfulness; a hard attention to detail, which confers on them
+a quality of exactness of likeness of which we are very sensible. We have for
+comparison a series of portraits of the same dates, but of English children,
+the children of the royal and court families. I give <a
+href="#Duchess_of_Buckingham_and_her_Two_Children.">here</a> a part of the
+portrait group of the family of the Duke of Buckingham; namely, the Duchess of
+Buckingham and her two children, an infant son and a daughter, Mary. She was a
+wonderful child, known in the court as “Pretty Moll,” having the beauty of her
+father, the “handsomest-bodied” man in court, his vivacity, his vigor, and his
+love of dancing, all of which made him the prime favorite both of James and his
+son, Charles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A letter exists written by the duchess to her husband while he was gone to
+Spain with his thirty suits of richly embroidered garments of which I have
+written in my first chapter. The duchess writes of “Pretty Moll,” who was not a
+year old:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“She is very well, I thank God; and when she is set to her feet and held by her
+sleeves she will not go softly but stamp, and set one foot before another very
+fast, and I think she will run before she can go. She loves dancing extremely;
+and when the Saraband is played, she will get her thumb and finger together
+offering to snap; and then when “Tom Duff” is sung, she will shake her apron;
+and when she hears the tune of the clapping dance my Lady Frances Herbert
+taught the Prince, she will clap both her hands together, and on her breast,
+and she can tell the tunes as well as any of us can; and as they change tunes
+she will change her dancing. I would you were here but to see her, for you
+would take much delight in her now she is so full of pretty play and tricks.
+Everybody says she grows each day more like you.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Can you not see the engaging little creature, clapping her hands and trying to
+step out in a dance? No imaginary description could equal in charm this bit of
+real life, this word-picture painted in bright and living colors by a mother’s
+love. I give another merry picture of her childhood and widowhood in a later
+chapter. Many portraits of “Pretty Moll” were painted by Van Dyck, more than of
+any woman in England save the queen. One shows her in the few months that she
+was the child-wife of the eldest son of the Earl of Pembroke. She is in the
+centre of the great family group. She was married thrice; her favorite choice
+of character in which to be painted was Saint Agnes, who died rather than be
+married at all.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="InfantsCap"></a>
+<img src="images/307.jpg" alt="Infant’s Cap." />
+<p class="caption">Infant’s Cap.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Both mother and child in this picture wear a lace cap of unusual shape, rather
+broader where turned over at the ear than at the top. It is seen on a few other
+portraits of that date, and seems to have come to England with the queen of
+James I. It disappeared before the graceful modes of hair-dressing introduced
+by Queen Henrietta Maria.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The genius of Van Dyck has preserved for us a wonderful portraiture of children
+of this period, the children of King Charles I. The earliest group shows the
+king and queen with two children; one a baby in arms with long clothes and
+close cap—this might have been painted yesterday. The little prince standing at
+his father’s knee is in a dark green frock, much like John Quincy’s, and
+apparently no richer. A painting at Windsor shows king and queen with the two
+princes, Charles and James; another, also at Windsor, gives the mother with the
+two sons. One at Turin gives the two princes with their sister. At Windsor, and
+in <i>replica</i> at Berlin, is the famous masterpiece with the five children,
+dated 1637.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Eleanor_Foster._1755."></a>
+<img src="images/309.jpg" alt="Eleanor Foster. 1755." />
+<p class="caption">Eleanor Foster. 1755.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+This exquisite group shows Charles, the Prince of Wales (aged seven), with his
+arm on the head of a great dog; he is in the full garb of a grown man, a
+Cavalier. His suit is red satin; the shoes are white, with red roses. Mary,
+demure as in all her portraits, is aged six; she wears virago-sleeves made like
+those of Margaret Gibbes, with hanging sleeves over them, a lace stomacher, and
+cap, with tufts of scarlet, and hair curled lightly on the forehead, and pulled
+out at the side in ringlets, like that of her mother, Henrietta Maria. The Duke
+of York, aged two, wears a red dress spotted with yellow, with sleeves
+precisely like those of Robert Gibbes; white lace-edged apron, stomacher, and
+cap; his hair is in curls. The Princess Elizabeth was aged about two; she is in
+blue. Her cap is of wrought and tucked lawn, and she wears either a pearl
+ear-ring or a pearl pendant at the corner of the cap just at the ear, and a
+string of pearls around her neck. She has a gentle, serious face, one with a
+premonitory tinge of sadness. She was the favorite daughter of the king, and
+wrote the inexpressibly touching account of his last days in prison. She was
+but thirteen, and he said to her the day before his execution, “Sweetheart, you
+will forget all this.” “Not while I live,” she answered, with many tears, and
+promised to write it down. She lived but a short time, for she was
+broken-hearted; she was found dead, with her head lying on the religious book
+she had been reading—in which attitude she is carved on her tomb. The baby is
+Princess Anne, a fat little thing not a year old; she is naked, save for a
+close cap and a little drapery. She died when three and a half years old; died
+with these words on her lips, “Lighten Thou mine eyes, O Lord, that I sleep not
+the sleep of Death.” It was not Puritan children only at that time who were
+filled with deep religious thought, and gave expression to that thought even in
+infancy; children of the Church of England and of the Roman Catholic Church
+were all widely imbued with religious feeling, and Biblical words were the
+familiar speech of the day, of both young and old. It rouses in me strange
+emotions when I gaze at this portrait and remember all that came into the lives
+of these royal children. They had been happier had they been born, like the
+little Gibbes children, in America, and of untitled parents.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="311"></a>
+<img src="images/311.jpg" width="405" height="600" alt="[Illustration: William,
+Prince of Orange.]" />
+<p class="caption">William, Prince of Orange.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+At Amsterdam may be seen the portrait of Princess Mary painted with her cousin,
+William of Orange, who became her child-husband. She had the happiest life of
+any of the five—if she ever could be happy after her father’s tragic death. In
+this later portrait she is a little older and sadder and stiffer. Her waist is
+more pinched, her shoulders narrower, her face more demure. His likeness is
+here given. The only marked difference in the dress of these children from the
+dress of the Gibbes children is in the lace; the royal family wear laces with
+deeply pointed edges, the point known as a Vandyke. The American children wear
+straight-edged laces, as was the general manner of laces of that day. An old
+print of the Duke of York when about seven years old is given (<a
+href="#JAMES_DUKE_OF_YORK">here</a>). He carries in his hand a quaint racket.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The costume worn by these children is like that of plebeian English children of
+the same date. A manuscript drawing of a child of the people in the reign of
+Charles I shows a precisely similar dress, save that the child is in
+leading-strings held by the mother; and in the belt to which the
+leading-strings are attached is thrust a “muckinder” or handkerchief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These leading-strings are seldom used now, but they were for centuries a factor
+in a child’s progress. They were a favorite gift to children; and might be a
+simple flat strip of strong stuff, or might be richly worked like the
+leading-strings which Mary, Queen of Scots embroidered for her little baby,
+James. These are three bands of Spanish pink satin ribbon, each about four or
+five feet long and over an inch wide. The three are sewed with minute
+over-and-over stitches into a flat band about four inches wide, and are
+embroidered with initials, emblems of the crown, a verse of a psalm, and a
+charming flower and grape design. The gold has tarnished into brown, and the
+flower colors are fled; but it is still a beautiful piece of work, speaking
+with no uncertain voice of a tender, loving mother and a womanly queen. There
+were crewel-worked leading-strings in America. One is prettily lined with
+strips of handsome brocade that had been the mother’s wedding petticoat; it is
+not an ill rival of the princely leading-strings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another little English girl, who was not a princess, but who lived in the years
+when ran and played our little American children, was Miss Campion, who “minded
+her horn-book”—minded it so well that she has been duly honored as the only
+English child ever painted with horn-book in hand. Her petticoat and stomacher,
+her apron, and cap and hanging sleeves and square-toed shoes are just like
+Margaret Gibbes’s—bought in the same London shops, very likely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not only did all these little English and American children dress alike, but so
+did French children, and so did Spanish children—only little Spanish girls had
+to wear hoops. Hoops were invented in Spain; and proud was the Spanish queen of
+them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Velasquez, contemporary with Van Dyck, painted the Infanta Maria Theresa; the
+portrait is now in the Prado at Madrid. She carries a handkerchief as big as a
+tablecloth; but above her enormous hoop appears not only the familiar
+virago-sleeve, but the straight whisk or collar, just like that of English
+children and dames. This child and the Princess Marguerite, by Velasquez, have
+the hair parted on one side with the top lock turned aside and tied with a knot
+of ribbon precisely as we tie our little daughters’ hair to-day; and as the
+bride of Charles II wore her hair when he married her. French children had not
+assumed hoops. I have an old French portrait before me of a little demoiselle,
+aged five, in a scarlet cloth gown with edgings of a narrow gray gimp or silver
+lace. All the sleeves, the slashes, the long, hanging sleeves are thus edged.
+She wears a long, narrow, white lawn apron, and her stiff bodice has a
+stomacher of lawn. There is a straight white collar tied with tiny bows in
+front and white cuffs; a scarlet close cap edged with silver lace completes an
+exquisite costume, which is in shape like that of Margaret Gibbes. The garments
+of all these children, royal and subject, are too long, of course, for comfort
+in walking; too stiff, likewise, for comfort in wearing; too richly laced to be
+suitable for everyday wear; too costly, save for folk of wealth; yet
+nevertheless so quaint, so becoming, so handsome, so rich, that we reluctantly
+turn away from them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The dress of all young children in families of estate was cumbersome to a
+degree. There exists to-day a warrant for the purchase of clothing of Mary
+Tudor, sister of Henry VIII, when she was a sportive, wilful, naughty little
+child of four. She wore such unwieldy and ugly guise as this: kirtles of tawny
+damask and black satin; gowns of green and crimson striped velvet edged with
+purple tinsel, which must have been hideous. All were lined with heavy black
+buckram. Indeed, the inner portions, the linings of old-time garments, even of
+royalty, were far from elegant. I have seen garments worn by grown princesses
+of the eighteenth century, whereof the rich brocade bodies were lined with
+common, heavy fabric, usually a stiff linen; and the sewing was done with
+thread as coarse as shoe-thread, often homespun. This, too, when the sleeve and
+neck-ruffles would be of needlework so exquisite that it could not be rivalled
+in execution to-day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many of the older portraits of children show hanging sleeves. The rich claret
+velvet dresses of the Van Cortlandt twins, aged four, had hanging sleeves. This
+dress is given in my book, <i>Child Life in Colonial Days</i>, as is that of
+Katherine Ten Broeck, another child of Dutch birth living in New York, who also
+wore heavy hanging sleeves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The use of the word hanging sleeves in common speech and in literature is most
+interesting. It had a figurative meaning; it symbolized youth and innocence.
+This meaning was acquired, of course, from the wear for centuries of hanging
+sleeves by little children, both boys and girls. It had a second, a derivative
+signification, being constantly employed as a figure of speech to indicate
+second childhood; it was used with a wistful tender meaning as an emblem of the
+helplessness of feeble old age. The following example shows such an employment
+of the term.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1720, Judge Samuel Sewall, of Boston, then about seventy-five years of age,
+wrote to another old gentleman, whose widowed sister he desired to marry, in
+these words:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I remember when I was going from school at Newbury to have sometime met your
+sisters Martha and Mary in Hanging Sleeves, coming home from their school in
+Chandlers Lane, and have had the pleasure of speaking to them. And I could find
+it in my heart now to speak to Mrs. Martha again, now I myself am reduced to
+Hanging Sleeves.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+William Byrd, of Westover, in Virginia, in one of his engaging and sprightly
+letters written in 1732, pictures the time of the patriarchs when “a man was
+reckoned at Years of Discretion at 100; Boys went into Breeches at about 40;
+Girles continued in Hanging Sleeves till 50, and plaid with their Babys till
+Threescore.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Benjamin Franklin was seven years old, he wrote a poem which was sent to
+his uncle, a bright old Quaker. This uncle responded in clever lines which
+begin thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“’Tis time for me to throw aside my pen<br/>
+When Hanging-Sleeves read, write and rhyme like men.<br/>
+This forward Spring foretells a plenteous crop<br/>
+For if the bud bear grain, what will the top?”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A curious use of the long hanging sleeve was as a pocket; that is, it would
+seem curious to us were it not for our acquaintance with the capacity of the
+sleeves of our unwelcome friend, Ah Sing. The pocketing sleeve of the time of
+Henry III still exists in the heraldic charge known as the manche, borne by the
+Hastings and Norton family. This is also called maunch, émanche, and mancheron.
+The word “manchette,” an ornamented cuff, retains the meaning of the word, as
+does manacle; all are from <i>manus</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hanging sleeves had a time of short popularity for grown folk while Anne Boleyn
+was queen of England; for the little finger of her left hand had a double tip,
+and the long, graceful sleeves effectually concealed the deformity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In my book entitled <i>Child Life in Colonial Days</i> I have given over thirty
+portraits of American children. These show the changes of fashions, the wear of
+children at various periods and ages. Childish dress ever reflected the dress
+of their elders, and often closely imitated it. Two very charming costumes are
+worn by two little children of the province of South Carolina. The little girl
+is but two years old. She is Ellinor Cordes, and was painted about 1740. She is
+a lovely little child of French features and French daintiness of dress, albeit
+a bright yellow brocaded satin would seem rather gorgeous attire for a girl of
+her years. The boy is her kinsman, Daniel Ravenel, and was then about five
+years old. He wore what might be termed a frock with spreading petticoats,
+which touched the ground; there is a decided boyishness in the tight-fitting,
+trim waistcoat with its silver buttons and lace, and the befrogged coat with
+broad cuffs and wrist ruffles, and turned-over revers, and narrow linen inner
+collar. It is an exceptionally pleasing boy’s dress, for a little boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A somewhat similar but more feminine coat is worn by Thomas Aston Coffin; it
+opens in front over a white satin petticoat, and it has a low-cut neck and
+sleeves shortened to the elbow, and worn over full white undersleeves. Other
+portraits by Copley show the same dress of white satin, which boys wore till
+six years of age.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._Theodore_Sedgwick_and_Daughter."></a>
+<img src="images/318.jpg" alt="Mrs. Theodore Sedgwick and Daughter." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Theodore Sedgwick and Daughter.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Copley’s portrait of his own children is given on a later page. This family
+group always startles all who have seen it only in photographs; for its colors
+are so unexpected, so frankly crude and vivid. The individuals are all
+charming. The oldest child, the daughter, Elizabeth, stands in the foreground
+in a delightful white frock of striped gauze. This is worn over a pink slip,
+and the pink tints show in the thinner folds of whiteness; a fine piece of
+texture-painting. The gauze sash is tied in a vast knot, and lies out in a
+train; this is a more vivid pink, inclining to the tint of the old-rose damask
+furniture-covering. She wears a pretty little net and muslin cap with a cap-pin
+like a tiny rose. This single figure is not excelled, I think, by any child’s
+portrait in foreign galleries, nor is it often equalled. Nor can the exquisite
+expression of childish love and confidence seen on the face of the boy, John
+Singleton Copley, Junior, who later became Lord Lyndhurst, find a rival in
+painting. It is an unspeakably touching portrait to all who have seen upturned
+close to their own eyes the trusting and loving face of a beautiful son as he
+clung with strong boyish arms and affection to his mother’s neck.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Infant_Child_of_Francis_Hopkinson"></a>
+<img src="images/319.jpg" alt="Infant Child of Francis Hopkinson" />
+<p class="caption">Infant Child of Francis Hopkinson, “the Signer.” Painted by
+Francis Hopkinson.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+This little American boy, who became Lord Chancellor of England, wears a
+nankeen suit with a lilac-tinted sash. It is his beaver hat with gold hatband
+and blue feather that lies on the ground at the feet of the grandfather,
+Richard Clarke. The baby, held by the grandfather, wears a coral and bells on a
+lilac sash-ribbon; such a coral as we see in many portraits of infants. Another
+child in white-embroidered robe and dark yellow sash completes this beautiful
+family picture. Its great fault to me is the blue of Mrs. Copley’s gown, which
+is as vivid as a peacock’s breast. This painting is deemed Copley’s
+masterpiece; but an equal interest is that it is such an absolute and open
+expression of Copley’s lovable character and upright life. In it we can read
+his affectionate nature, his love of his sweet wife, his happy home-relations,
+and his pride in his beautiful children.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is ample proof, not only in the inventories which chance to be preserved,
+but in portraits of the times, that children’s dress in the eighteenth century
+was often costly. Of course the children of wealthy parents only would have
+their portraits painted; but their dress was as rich as the dress of the
+children of the nobility in England at the same time. You can see this in the
+colored reproduction of the portraits of Hon. James Bowdoin and his sister,
+Augusta, afterwards Lady Temple. That they were good likenesses is proved by
+the fact that the faces are strongly like those of the same persons in more
+mature years. You find little Augusta changed but slightly in matronhood in the
+fine pastel by Copley. In this portrait of the two Bowdoin children, the entire
+dress is given. Seldom are the shoes shown. These are interesting, for the
+boy’s square-toed black shoes with buckles are wholly unlike his sister’s blue
+morocco slippers with turned-up peaks and gilt ornaments from toe to instep,
+making a foot-gear much like certain Turkish slippers seen to-day. Her hair has
+the bedizenment of beads and feathers, which were worn by young girls for as
+many years as their mothers wore the same. The young lad’s dress is precisely
+like his father’s. There is much charm in these straight little figures. They
+have the aristocratic bearing which is a family trait of all of that kin. I
+should not deem Lady Temple ever a beauty, though she was called so by Manasseh
+Cutler, a minister who completely yielded to her charms when she was a
+grandmother and forty-four. This portrait of brother and sister is, I believe,
+by Blackburn. The dress is similar and the date the same as the portrait of the
+Misses Royall (one of whom became Lady Pepperell), which is by Blackburn.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="MarySeton1763"></a>
+<img src="images/321.jpg" alt="Mary Seton, 1763." />
+<p class="caption">Mary Seton, 1763.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The portrait of a charming little American child is shown <a
+href="#MarySeton1763">here</a>. This child, in feature, figure, and attitude,
+and even in the companionship of the kitten, is a curious replica of a famous
+English portrait of “Miss Trimmer.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have written at length in Chapter IV of a grandmother in the Hall family and
+of the Hall family connection. Let me tell of another grandmother, Madam Lydia
+Coleman, the daughter of the old Indian fighter, Captain Joshua Scottow. She,
+like Madam Symonds and Madam Stoddard, had had several husbands—Colonel
+Benjamin Gibbs, Attorney-General Anthony Checkley, and William Coleman. The
+Hall children were her grandchildren; and came to Boston for schooling at one
+time. Many letters exist of Hon. Hugh Hall to and from his grandmother, Madam
+Coleman. She writes thus.—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“As for Richard since I told him I would write to his Father he is more
+orderly, &amp;; he is very hungry, and has grown so much yt all his Clothes is
+too Little for him. He loves his book and his play too. I hired him to get a
+Chapter of ye Proverbs &amp;; give him a penny every Sabbath day, &amp;;
+promised him 5 shillings when he can say them all by heart. I would do my duty
+by his soul as well as his body.... He has grown a good boy and minds his
+School and Lattin and Dancing. He is a brisk Child &amp;; grows very Cute and
+wont wear his new silk coat yt was made for him. He wont wear it every day so
+yt I don’t know what to do with it. It wont make him a jackitt. I would have
+him a good husbander but he is but a child. For shoes, gloves, hankers &amp;;
+stockins, they ask very deare, 8 shillings for a paire &amp;; Richard takes no
+care of them. Richard wears out nigh 12 paire of shoes a year. He brought 12
+hankers with him and they have all been lost long ago; and I have bought him 3
+or 4 more at a time. His way is to tie knottys at one end &amp;; beat ye Boys
+with them and then to lose them &amp;; he cares not a bit what I will say to
+him.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Madam Coleman, after this handful, was given charge of his sister Sarah. When
+Missy arrived from the Barbadoes, she was eight years old. She brought with her
+a maid. The grandmother wrote back cheerfully to the parents that the child was
+well and brisk, as indeed she was. All the very young gentlemen and young
+ladies of Boston Brahmin blood paid her visits, and she gave a feast at a
+child’s dancing-party with the sweetmeats left over from her sea-store. Her
+stay in her grandmother’s household was surprisingly brief. She left unbidden
+with her maid, and went to a Mr. Binning’s to board; she sent home word to the
+Barbadoes that her grandmother made her drink water with her meals. Her brother
+wrote to Madam Coleman:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“We were all persuaded of your tender and hearty affection to my Sister when we
+recommended her to your parental care. We are sorry to hear of her Independence
+in removing from under the Benign Influences of your Wing &amp;; am surprised
+she dare do it without our leave or consent or that Mr. Binning receive her at
+his house before he knew how we were affected to it. We shall now desire Mr.
+Binning to resign her with her waiting maid to you and in our Letter to him
+have strictly ordered her to Return to your House.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+But no brother could control this spirited young damsel. Three months later a
+letter from Madam Coleman read thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Sally wont go to school nor to church and wants a nue muff and a great many
+other things she don’t need. I tell her fine things are cheaper in Barbadoes.
+She is well and brisk, says her Brother has nothing to do with her as long as
+her father is alive.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Hugh Hall wrote in return, saying his daughter ought to have one room to sleep
+in, and her maid another, that it was not befitting children of their station
+to drink water, they should have wine and beer. We cannot wonder that they
+dressed like their elders since they were treated like their elders in other
+respects.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The dress of very young girls was often extraordinarily rich. We find this
+order sent to London in 1739, for finery for Mary Cabell, daughter of Dr.
+William Cabell of Virginia, when she was but thirteen years old:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“1 Prayer Book (almost every such inventory had this item).<br/>
+1 Red Silk Petticoat.<br/>
+1 Very good broad Silver laced hat and hat-band.<br/>
+1 Pair Stays 17 inches round the waist.<br/>
+2 Pair fine Shoes.<br/>
+12 Pair fine Stockings.<br/>
+1 Hoop Petticoat.<br/>
+1 Pair Ear rings.<br/>
+1 Pair Clasps.<br/>
+3 Pair Silver Buttons set with Stones.<br/>
+1 Suit of Headclothes.<br/>
+4 Fine Handkerchiefs and Ruffles suitable.<br/>
+A Very handsome Knot and Girdle.<br/>
+A Fine Cloak and Short Apron.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="The_Bowdoin_Children."></a>
+<img src="images/325.jpg" alt="The Bowdoin Children." />
+<p class="caption">The Bowdoin Children. Lady Temple and Governor James Bowdoin
+in Childhood.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+I never read such a list as this without picturing the delight of little Mary
+Cabell when she opened the box containing all these pretty garments.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The order given by Colonel John Lewis for his young ward of eleven years
+old—another Virginia child—reads thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“A cap, ruffle, and tucker, the lace 5s. per yard.<br/>
+1 pair White Stays.<br/>
+8 pair White kid gloves.<br/>
+2 pair Colour’d kid gloves.<br/>
+2 pair worsted hose.<br/>
+3 pair thread hose.<br/>
+1 pair silk shoes laced.<br/>
+1 pair morocco shoes.<br/>
+4 pair plain Spanish shoes.<br/>
+2 pair calf shoes.<br/>
+1 Mask.<br/>
+1 Fan.<br/>
+1 Necklace.<br/>
+1 Girdle and Buckle.<br/>
+1 Piece fashionable Calico.<br/>
+4 yards Ribbon for Knots.<br/>
+1 Hoop Coat.<br/>
+1 Hat.<br/>
+1 1/2 Yard of Cambric.<br/>
+A Mantua and Coat of Slite Lustring.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Orders for purchases were regularly despatched to London agent by George
+Washington after his marriage. In 1761 he orders a full list of garments for
+both his stepchildren. “Miss Custis” was only six years old. These are some of
+the items:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“1 Coat made of Fashionable Silk.<br/>
+A Fashionable Cap or fillet with Bib apron.<br/>
+Ruffles and Tuckers, to be laced.<br/>
+4 Fashionable Dresses made of Long Lawn.<br/>
+2 Fine Cambrick Frocks.<br/>
+A Satin Capuchin, hat, and neckatees.<br/>
+A Persian Quilted Coat.<br/>
+1 p. Pack Thread Stays.<br/>
+4 p. Callimanco Shoes.<br/>
+6 p. Leather Shoes.<br/>
+2 p. Satin Shoes with flat ties.<br/>
+6 p. Fine Cotton Stockings.<br/>
+4 p. White Worsted Stockings.<br/>
+12 p. Mitts.<br/>
+6 p. White Kid Gloves.<br/>
+1 p. Silver Shoe Buckles.<br/>
+1 p. Neat Sleeve Buttons.<br/>
+6 Handsome Egrettes Different Sorts.<br/>
+6 Yards Ribbon for Egrettes.<br/>
+12 Yards Coarse Green Callimanco.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A Virginia gentleman, Colonel William Fleming, kept for several years a close
+account of the money he spent for his little daughters, who were young misses
+of ten and eleven in the year 1787. The most expensive single items are
+bonnets, each at &pound;;4 10s.; an umbrella, &pound;;2 8s. Cloth cloaks and
+saddles and bridles for riding were costly items. Tamboured muslin was at that
+time 18s. a yard; durant, 3s. 6d.; lutestring, 12s.; calico, 6s. 3d. Scarlet
+cloaks for each girl cost &pound;;2 14s. each. Other dress materials besides
+those named above were cambric, linen, cotton, osnaburgs, negro cotton,
+book-muslin, ermin, nankeen, persian, Turkey cotton, shalloon, and swanskin.
+There were many yards of taste and ribbon, black lace, and edgings, and
+gauze—gauze—gauze. A curious item several times appearing is a “paper bonnet,”
+not bonnet-paper, which latter was a constant purchase on women’s lists. There
+were pen-knives, “scanes of silk,” crooked combs, morocco shoes, “nitting
+pins,” constant “sticks of pomatum,” fans, “chanes,” a shawl, a tamboured coat,
+gloves, stockings, trunks, bands and clasps, tooth-brushes, silk gloves,
+necklaces, “fingered gloves,” silk stockings, handkerchiefs, china teacups and
+saucers and silver spoons. All these show a very generous outfit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the year 1770 a delightful, engaging little child came to Boston from Nova
+Scotia to live for a time with her aunt, a Boston gentlewoman, and to attend
+Boston schools. For the amusement of her parents so far away, and for practice
+in penmanship, she kept during the years 1771 and part of 1772 a diary. She was
+but ten years old when she began, but her intelligence and originality make
+this diary a valuable record of domestic life in Boston at that date. I have
+had the pleasure of publishing her diary with notes under the title, <i>Diary
+of Anna Green Winslow, a Boston School Girl, in the Year 1771</i>. I lived so
+much with her while transcribing her words that she seems almost like a child
+of my own. Like other unusual children she died young—when but nineteen. She
+was not so gifted and wonderful and rare a creature as that star among
+children, Marjorie Fleming, yet she was in many ways equally interesting; she
+was a frank, homely little flower of New England life destined never to grow
+old or weary, or tired or sad, but to live forever in eternal, happy childhood,
+through the magic living words in the hundred pages of her time-stained diary.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was of what Dr. Holmes called Boston Brahmin blood, was related to many of
+the wealthiest and best families of Boston and vicinity, and knew the best
+society. Dress was to her a matter of distinct importance, and her clothes were
+carefully fashionable. Her distress over wearing “an old red Domino” was
+genuine. We have in her words many references to her garments, and we find her
+dress very handsome. This is what she wore at a child’s party:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I was dressed in my yellow coat, black bib &amp;; apron, black feathers on my
+head, my past comb &amp;; all my past garnet, marquesett &amp;; jet pins,
+together with my silver plume—my loket, rings, black collar round my neck,
+black mitts &amp;; yards of blue ribbin (black &amp;; blue is high tast),
+striped tucker &amp;; ruffels (not my best) &amp;; my silk shoes completed my
+dress.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A few days later she writes:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I wore my black bib &amp;; apron, my pompedore shoes, the cap my Aunt Storer
+since presented me with (blue ribbins on it) &amp;; a very handsome locket in
+the shape of a hart she gave me, the past Pin my Hon’d Papa presented me with
+in my cap. My new cloak &amp;; bonnet, my pompedore gloves, &amp;;c. And I
+would tell you that <i>for the first time they all on lik’d my dress very
+much</i>. My cloak &amp;; bonnett are really very handsome &amp;; so they had
+need be. For they cost an amasing sight of money, not quite &pound;;45, tho’
+Aunt Suky said that she suppos’d Aunt Deming would be frighted out of her Wits
+at the money it cost. I have got <i>one</i> covering by the cost that is
+genteel &amp;; I like it much myself.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+As this was in the times of depreciated values, &pound;;45 was not so large a
+sum to expend for a girl’s outdoor garments as at first sight appears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She gives a very exact account of her successions of head-gear, some being
+borrowed finery. She apparently managed to rise entirely above the hated “black
+hatt” and red domino, which she patronizingly said would be “Decent for Common
+Occations.” She writes:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Last Thursday I purchased with my aunt Deming’s leave a very beautiful white
+feather hat, that is the outside, which is a bit of white hollowed with the
+feathers sew’d on in a most curious manner; white and unsully’d as the falling
+snow. As I am, as we say, a Daughter of Liberty I chuse to were as much of our
+own manufactory as pocible.... My Aunt says if I behave myself very well
+indeed, not else, she will give me a garland of flowers to orniment it, tho’
+she has layd aside the biziness of flower-making.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The dress described and portrayed of these children all seems very mature; but
+children were quickly grown up in colonial days. Cotton Mather wrote, “New
+English youth are very sharp and early ripe in their capacities.” They married
+early; though none of the “child-marriages” of England disfigure the pages of
+our history. Sturdy Endicott would not permit the marriage of his ward, Rebecca
+Cooper, an “inheritrice,”—though Governor Winthrop wished her for his
+nephew,—because the girl was but fifteen. I am surprised at this, for marriages
+at fifteen were common enough. My far-away grandmother, Mary Burnet, married
+William Browne, when she was fourteen; another grandmother, Mary Philips,
+married her cousin at thirteen, and there is every evidence that the match was
+arranged with little heed of the girl’s wishes. It was the happiest of
+marriages. Boys became men by law when sixteen. Winthrop named his son as
+executor of his will when the boy was fourteen—but there were few boys like
+that boy. We find that the Virginia tutor who taught in the Carter family just
+previous to the war of the Revolution deemed a young lady of thirteen no longer
+a child.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Miss_Lydia_Robinson"></a>
+<img src="images/331.jpg" alt="Miss Lydia Robinson, aged 12 Years" />
+<p class="caption">Miss Lydia Robinson, aged 12 Years, Daughter of Colonel
+James Robinson. Marked “Corné pinxt, Sept. 1805.”
+</p></div>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Miss Betsy Lee is about thirteen, a tall, slim, genteel girl. She is very far
+from Miss Hale’s taciturnity, yet is by no means disagreeably Forward. She
+dances extremely well, and is just beginning to play the Spinet. She is dressed
+in a neat Shell Callico Gown, has very light Hair done up with a Feather, and
+her whole carriage is Inoffensive, Easy and Graceful.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The christening of an infant was not only a sacrament of the church, and thus
+of highest importance, but it was also of secular note. It was a time of great
+rejoicing, of good wishes, of gift-making. In mediaeval times, the child was
+arrayed by the priest in a white robe which had been anointed with sacred oil,
+and called a chrismale, or a chrisom. If the child died within a month, it was
+buried in this robe and called a chrisom-child. The robe was also called a
+christening palm or pall. When the custom of redressing the child in a robe at
+the altar had passed away, the christening palm still was used and was thrown
+over the child when it was brought out to receive visitors. This robe was also
+termed a bearing-cloth, a christening sheet, and a cade-cloth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This fine coverlet of state, what we would now call a christening blanket, was
+usually made of silk; often it was richly embroidered, sometimes with a text of
+Scripture. It was generally lace-bordered, or edged with a narrow, home-woven
+silk fringe. The christening-blanket of Governor Bradford of the Plymouth
+Colony still is owned by a descendant; it is whole of fabric and unfaded of
+dye. It is rich crimson silk, soft of texture, like heavy sarcenet silk, and is
+powdered at regular distances about six inches apart with conventional sprays
+of flowers, embroidered chiefly in pink and yellow, in minute silk
+cross-stitch. Another beautiful silk christening blanket was quilted in an
+intricate flower pattern in almost imperceptible stitches. Another of yellow
+satin has a design in white floss that gives it the appearance of being trimmed
+with white silk lace. Best of all was to embroider the cloth with designs and
+initials and emblems and biblical references. A coat-of-arms or crest was very
+elegant. The words, “God Bless the Babe,” were not left wholly to the
+pincushions which every babe had given him or her, but appeared on the
+christening blanket. A curious design shown me was called <i>The Tree of
+Knowledge</i>. The figure of a child in cap, apron, bib, and hanging sleeves
+stands pointing to a tree upon which grew books as though they were apples. The
+open pages of each book-apple is printed with a title, as, <i>The New England
+Primer, Lilly’s Grammar, Janeway’s Holy Children, The Prodigal Daughter.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An inventory of the christening garments of a child in the seventeenth century
+reads thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“1. A lined white figured satin cap.<br/>
+2. A lined white satin cap embroidered in sprays with gold coloured silk.<br/>
+3. A white satin palm embroidered in sprays of yellow silk to match. This is 44
+inches by 34 inches in size.<br/>
+4. A palm of rich ‘still yellow’ silk lined with white satin. This is 54 inches
+by 48 inches in size.<br/>
+5. A pair of deep cuffs of white satin, lace trimmed and embroidered.<br/>
+6. A pair of linen mittens trimmed with narrow lace, the back of the fingers
+outlined with yellow silk figures.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Knitted_Flaxen_Mittens."></a>
+<img src="images/334.jpg" alt="Knitted Flaxen Mittens." />
+<p class="caption">Knitted Flaxen Mittens.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The satin cuffs were for the wear of the older person who carried the child.
+The infant was placed upon the larger palm or cloth, and the smaller one thrown
+over him, over his petticoats. The inner cap was very tight to the head. The
+outer was embroidered; often it turned back in a band.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a significance in the use of yellow; it is the altar color for
+certain church festivals, and was proper for the pledging of the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All these formalities of christening in the Church of England were not
+abandoned by the Separatists. New England children were just as carefully
+christened and dressed for christening as any child in the Church of England.
+In the reign of James I tiny shirts with little bands or sleeves or cuffs
+wrought in silk or in coventry-blue thread were added to the gift of spoons
+from the sponsors. I have one of these little coventry-blue embroidered things
+with quaint little sleeves; too faded, I regret, to reveal any pattern to the
+camera.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The christening shirts and mittens given by the sponsors are said to be a relic
+of the ancient custom of presenting white clothes to the neophytes when
+converted to Christianity. These “Christening Sets” are preserved in many
+families.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of the dress of infants of colonial times we can judge from the articles of
+clothing which have been preserved till this day. These are of course the
+better garments worn by babies, not their everyday dress; their simpler attire
+has not survived, but their christening robes, their finer shirts and
+petticoats and caps remain.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._Elizabeth_Lux_Russell_and_Daughter"></a>
+<img src="images/336.jpg" alt="Mrs. Elizabeth Lux Russell and Daughter." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Elizabeth Lux Russell and Daughter.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Linen formed the chilling substructure of their dress, thin linen, low-necked,
+short-sleeved shirts; and linen remained the underwear of infants until thirty
+years ago. I do not wonder that these little linen shirts were worn for
+centuries. They are infinitely daintier than the finest silk or woollen
+underwear that have succeeded them; they are edged with narrowest thread lace,
+and hemstitched with tiny rows of stitches or corded with tiny cords, and
+sometimes embroidered by hand in minute designs. They were worn by all babies
+from the time of James I, never varying one stitch in shape; but I fear this
+pretty garment of which our infants were bereft a few years ago will never
+crowd out the warm, present-day silk wear. This wholly infantile article of
+childish dress had tiny little revers or collarettes or laps made to turn over
+outside the robe or slip like a minute bib, and these laps were beautifully
+oversewn where the corners joined the shirt, to prevent tearing down at this
+seam. These tiny shirts were the dearest little garments ever made or dreamed
+of. When a baby had on a fresh, corded slip, low of neck, with short, puffed
+sleeve, and the tiny hemstitched laps were turned down outside the neck of the
+slip, and the little sleeves were caught up by fine strings of gold-clasped
+pink coral, the baby’s dimpled shoulders and round head rose up out of the
+little shirt-laps like some darling flower.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have seen an infant’s shirt and a cap embroidered on the laps with the
+coat-of-arms of the Lux and Johnson families and the motto, “God Bless the
+Babe;” these delicate garments, the work of fairies, were worn in infancy by
+the Revolutionary soldier, Governor Johnson of Virginia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the Essex Institute in Salem, Massachusetts, are the baptismal shirt and
+mittens of the Pilgrim father, William Bradford, second governor of the
+Plymouth colony, who was born in 1590. They are shown <a
+href="#Christening_Shirt_and_Mitts_of_Governor_Bradford">here</a>. All are of
+firm, close-woven, homespun linen, but the little mittens have been worn at the
+ends by the active friction of baby hands, and are patched with red and yellow
+figured “chiney” or calico. A similar colored material frills the sleeves and
+neck. This may have been part of their ornamentation when first made, but it
+looks extraneous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sleeves of this shirt are plaited or goffered in a way that seems wholly
+lost; this is what I have already described—<i>pinching</i>. I have seen the
+sleeve of a child’s dress thus pinched which had been worn by a little girl
+aged three. The wrist-cuff measured about five inches around, and was stoutly
+corded. Upon ripping the sleeve apart, it was found that the strip of fine mull
+which was thus pinched into the sleeve was two yards in length. The cuff flared
+slightly, else even this length of sheer lawn could not have been confined at
+the wrist. In the so-called “Museum,” gloomily scattered around the famous old
+South Church edifice in Boston, are fine examples of this pinched work.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Christening_Shirt_and_Mitts_of_Governor_Bradford"></a>
+<img src="images/338.jpg" alt="Christening Shirt and Mitts of Governor
+Bradford." />
+<p class="caption">Christening Shirt and Mitts of Governor Bradford.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Many of the finest existing specimens of old guipure, Flanders, and needlepoint
+laces in England and America are preserved on the ancient shirts, mitts, caps,
+and bearing-cloths of infants. Often there is a little padded bib of guipure
+lace accompanied with tiny mittens like these.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Flanders_Lace_Mitts."></a>
+<img src="images/339.jpg" alt="Flanders Lace Mitts." />
+<p class="caption">Flanders Lace Mitts.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+This pair was wrought and worn in the sixteenth century, and the stitches and
+work are those of the Flanders point laces. I have seen tiny mitts knitted of
+silk, of fine linen thread, also made of linen, hem-stitched, or worked in
+drawn-work, or embroidered, and one pair of mittens, and the cap that matched
+was of tatting-work done in the finest of thread. No needlepoint could be more
+beautiful. Some are shown on <a href="#Flanders_Lace_Mitts.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mitts of yellow nankeen or silk, made with long wrists or arms, were also worn
+by babies, and must have proved specially irritating to tiny little hands and
+arms. These had the seams sewed over and over with colored silks in a curiously
+intricate netted stitch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have an infant’s cap with two squares of lace set in the crown, one over each
+ear. The lace is of a curious design; a conventionalized vase or urn on a
+standard. I recognize it as the lace and pattern known as “pot-lace,” made for
+centuries at Antwerp, and worn there by old women on their caps with a devotion
+to a single pattern that is unparalleled. It was the “flower-pot” symbol of the
+Annunciation. The earliest representation of the Angel Gabriel in the
+Annunciation showed him with lilies in his hand; then these lilies were set in
+a vase. In years the angel has disappeared and then the lilies, and the
+lily-pot only remains. It is a whimsical fancy that this symbol of Romanism
+should have been carefully transferred to adorn the pate of a child of the
+Puritans. The place of the medallion, set over each ear, is so unusual that I
+think it must have had some significance. I wonder whether they were ever set
+thus in caps of heavy silk or linen to let the child hear more readily, as he
+certainly would through the thin lace net.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word “beguine” meant a nun; and thus derivatively a nun’s close cap. This
+was altered in spelling to biggin, and for a time a nun’s plain linen cap was
+thus called. By Shakespere’s day biggin had become wholly a term for a child’s
+cap. It was a plain phrase and a plain cap of linen. Shakespere calls them
+“homely biggens.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have seen it stated that the biggin was a night-cap. When Queen Elizabeth
+lost her mother, Anne Boleyn, she was but three years old, a neglected little
+creature. A lady of the court wrote that the child had “no manner of linen, nor
+for-smocks, nor kerchiefs, nor rails, nor body-stitches, nor handkerchiefs, nor
+sleeves, nor mufflers, nor biggins.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1636 Mary Dudley, the daughter of Governor John Winthrop, had a little baby.
+She did not live in Boston town, therefore her mother had to purchase supplies
+for her; and many letters crossed, telling of wants, and their relief. “Holland
+for biggins” was eagerly sought. At that date all babies wore caps. I mean
+English and French, Dutch and Spanish, all mothers deemed it unwise and almost
+improper for a young baby ever to be seen bare-headed. With the imperfect
+heating and many draughts in all the houses, this mode of dress may have been
+wholly wise and indeed necessary. Every child’s head was covered, as the
+pictures of children in this book show, until he or she was several years old.
+The finest needlework and lace stitches were lavished on these tiny infants’
+caps, which were not, when thus adorned and ornamented, called biggins.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="InfantsAdjustableCap"></a>
+<img src="images/341.jpg" alt="Infant’s Adjustable Cap." />
+<p class="caption">Infant’s Adjustable Cap.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+A favorite trimming for night-caps and infants’ caps is a sort of quilting in a
+leaf and vine pattern, done with a white cord inserted between outer and inner
+pieces of linen—a cord stuffing, as it were. It does not seem oversuited for
+caps to be worn in bed or by little infants, as the stiff cords must prove a
+disagreeable cushion. This work was done as early as the seventeenth century;
+but nearly all the pieces preserved were made in the early years of the
+nineteenth century in the revival of needlework then so universal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Often a velvet cap was worn outside the biggin or lace cap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have never seen a woollen petticoat that was worn by an infant of
+pre-Revolutionary days. I think infants had no woollen petticoats; their
+shirts, petticoats, and gowns were of linen or some cotton stuff like dimity.
+Warmth of clothing was given by tiny shawls pinned round the shoulders, and
+heavier blankets and quilts and shawls in which baby and petticoats were wholly
+enveloped.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The baby dresses of olden times are either rather shapeless sacques drawn in at
+the neck with narrow cotton ferret or linen bobbin, or little straight-waisted
+gowns of state. All were exquisitely made by hand, and usually of fine stuff.
+Many are trimmed with fine cording.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is astounding to note the infinite number of stitches put in garments. An
+infant’s slips quilted with a single tiny backstitch in a regular design of
+interlaced squares, stars, and rounds. By counting the number of rounds and the
+stitches in each, and so on, it has been found that there are 397,000 stitches
+in that dress. Think of the time spent even by the quickest sewer over such a
+piece of work.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Within a few years we have shortened the long clothes worn by youngest infants;
+twenty-five years ago the handsome dress of an infant, such as the
+christening-robe, was so long that when the child was held on the arm of its
+standing nurse or mother, the edge of the robe barely escaped touching the
+ground. Two hundred years ago, a baby’s dress was much shorter. In the family
+group of Charles I and Henrietta Maria and their children, in the Copley family
+picture, and in the picture of the Cadwalader family, we find the little baby
+in scarce “three-quarters length” of robe. With this exception it is
+astonishing to find how little infants’ dress has changed during the two
+centuries. In 1889, at the Stuart Exhibition, some of the infant dresses of
+Charles I were shown. They had been preserved in the family of Sir Thomas
+Coventry, Lord Keeper. And Charles II’s baby linen was on view in the New
+Gallery in 1901. Both sets had the dainty little shirts, slips, bibs, mitts,
+and all the babies’ dress of fifty years ago, and the changes since then have
+been few. The “barrow-coat,” a square of flannel wrapped around an infant’s
+body below the arms with the part below the feet turned up and pinned, was part
+of the old swaddling-clothes; and within ten years it has been largely
+abandoned for a flannel petticoat on a band or waist. The bands, or binders,
+have always been the same as to-day, and the bibs. The lace cuffs and lace
+mittens were left off before the caps. The shirt is the most important change.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nowadays a little infant wears long clothes till three, four, or even eight
+months old; then he is put in short dresses about as long as he is. In colonial
+days when a boy was taken from his swaddling-clothes, he was dressed in a short
+frock with petticoats and was “coated” or sometimes “short-coated.” When he
+left off coats, he donned breeches. In families of sentiment and affection, the
+“coating” of a boy was made a little festival. So was also the assumption of
+breeches an important event—as it really is, as we all know who have boys.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One of the most charming of all grandmothers’ letters was written by a doting
+English grandmother to her son. Lord Chief Justice North, telling of the
+“leaving off of coats” of his motherless little son, Francis Guilford, then six
+years old. The letter is dated October 10, 1679:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“DEAR SON:<br/>
+You cannot beleeve the great concerne that was in the whole family here last
+Wednesday, it being the day that the taylor was to helpe to dress little ffrank
+in his breeches in order to the making an everyday suit by it. Never had any
+bride that was to be drest upon her weding night more handes about her, some
+the legs, some the armes, the taylor butt’ning, and others putting on the
+sword, and so many lookers on that had I not a ffinger amongst I could not have
+seen him. When he was quite drest he acted his part as well as any of them for
+he desired he might goe downe to inquire for the little gentleman that was
+there the day before in a black coat, and speak to the man to tell the
+gentleman when he came from school that there was a gallant with very fine
+clothes and a sword to have waited upon him and would come again upon Sunday
+next. But this was not all, there was great contrivings while he was dressing
+who should have the first salute; but he sayd if old Joan had been here, she
+should, but he gave it to me to quiett them all. They were very fitt,
+everything, and he looks taller and prettyer than in his coats. Little Charles
+rejoyced as much as he did for he jumpt all the while about him and took notice
+of everything. I went to Bury, and bot everything for another suitt which will
+be finisht on Saturday so the coats are to be quite left off on Sunday. I
+consider it is not yett terme time and since you could not have the pleasure of
+the first sight, I resolved you should have a full relation from<br/>
+<br/>
+    “Yo’r most Aff’nate Mother<br/>
+<br/>
+    “A. North.<br/>
+<br/>
+“When he was drest he asked Buckle whether muffs were out of fashion because
+they had not sent him one.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This affectionate letter, written to a great and busy statesman, the Lord
+Keeper of the Seals, shows how pure and delightful domestic life in England
+could be; it shows how beautiful it was after Puritanism perfected the English
+home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In an old family letter dated 1780 I find this sentence:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Mary is most wise with her child, and hath no new-fangledness. She has little
+David in what she wore herself, a pudding and pinner.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+For a time these words “pudding and pinner” were a puzzle; and long after
+pinner was defined we could not even guess at a pudding. But now I know two
+uses of the word “pudding” which are in no dictionary. One is the stuffing of a
+man’s great neck-cloth in front, under the chin. The other is a thick roll or
+cushion stuffed with wool or some soft filling and furnished with strings. This
+pudding was tied round the head of a little child while it was learning to
+walk. The head was thus protected from serious bruises or injury. Nollekens
+noted with satisfaction such a pudding on the head of an infant, and said:
+“That is right. I always wore a pudding, and all children should.” I saw one
+upon a child’s head last summer in a New England town; I asked the mother what
+it was, and she answered, “A pudding-cap”; that it made children soft (idiotic)
+to bump the head frequently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word “pinner” has two meanings. The earlier use was precisely that of
+pinafore, or pincurtle, or pincloth—a child’s apron. Thus we read in the
+Harvard College records, of the expenses of the year 1677, of “Linnen Cloth for
+Table Pinners,” which makes us suspect that Harvard students of that day had to
+wear bibs at commons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All children wore aprons, which might be called pinners; these were aprons with
+pinned-up bibs; or they might be tiers, which were sleeved aprons covering the
+whole waist, sleeves, and skirt, an outer slip, buttoned in the back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A severe and ancient moralist looked forth from her window in Worcester, one
+day last spring, at a band of New England children running to their morning
+school. She gazed over her glasses reprovingly, and turned to me with
+bitterness: “There they go! <i>Such</i> mothers as they must have! Not a pinner
+nor a sleeved tier among ’em.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sleeved tier occupied a singular place in childish opinion in my youth; and
+I find the same feeling anent it had existed for many generations. It was hated
+by all children, regarded as something to be escaped from at the earliest
+possible date. You had to wear sleeved tiers as you had to have the mumps. It
+was a thing to endure with what childish patience and fortitude you could
+command for a short time; but thoughtful, tender parents would not make you
+suffer it long.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were aprons, and aprons. Pinners and tiers were for use, but there were
+elegant aprons for ornament. Did not Queen Anne wear one? Even babies wore
+them. The little Padishal child has one richly laced. I have seen a beautiful
+apron for a little child of three. It was edged with a straight insertion of
+Venetian point like that pictured <a href="#Old_Venice_Point_Lace.">here</a>.
+It had been made in 1690. Tender affection for a beloved and beautiful little
+child preserved it in one trunk in the same attic for sixty-five years; and a
+beautiful sympathy for that mother’s long sorrow kept the apron untouched by
+young lace-lovers. This lace has white horsehair woven into the edge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We find George Washington ordering for his little stepdaughter (a well-dressed
+child if ever there was one), when she was six years old, “A fashionable cap or
+fillet with bib apron.” And a few years later he orders, “Tuckers, Bibs, and
+Aprons if Fashionable.” Boys wore aprons as long as they wore coats; aprons
+with stomachers or bibs of drawn-work and lace, or of stiffly starched lawn;
+aprons just like those of their sisters. It was hard to bear. Hoop-coat, masks,
+packthread stays—these seem strange dress for growing girls.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+George Washington sent abroad for masks for his wife and his little
+stepdaughter, “Miss Custis,” when the little girl was six years old; and
+“children’s masks” are often named in bills of sale. Loo-masks were small
+half-masks, and were also imported in all sizes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The face of Mrs. Madison, familiarly known as “Dolly Madison,” wife of
+President James Madison, long retained the beauty of youth. Much of this was
+surely due to a faithful mother, who, when little Dolly Payne was sent to
+school, sewed a sun-bonnet on the child’s head every morning, placed on her
+arms and hands long gloves, and made her wear a mask to keep every ray of
+sunlight from her face. When masks were so universally worn by women, it is not
+strange, after all, that children wore them.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Rev._J.P._Dabney_when_a_Child."></a>
+<img src="images/348.jpg" alt="Rev. J.P. Dabney when a Child." />
+<p class="caption">Rev. J.P. Dabney when a Child.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+I read with horror an advertisement of John McQueen, a New York stay-maker in
+1767, that he has children’s packthread stays, children’s bone stays, and “neat
+polished steel collars for young Misses so much worn at the boarding schools in
+London.” Poor little “young Misses”!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were also “turned stays, jumps, gazzets, costrells and caushets” (which
+were perhaps corsets) to make children appear straight. Costrells and gazzets
+we know not to-day. Jumps were feeble stays.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Now a shape in neat stays<br/>
+Now a slattern in jumps.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Robert_Gibbes."></a>
+<img src="images/349.jpg" alt="Robert Gibbes." />
+<p class="caption">Robert Gibbes.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Jumps were allied to jimps, and perhaps to jupe; and I think jumper is a cousin
+of a word. One pair of stays I have seen is labelled as having been made for a
+boy of five. One of the worst instruments of torture I ever beheld was a pair
+of child’s stays worn in 1760. They were made, not of little strips of wood,
+but of a large piece of board, front and back, tightly sewed into a buckram
+jacket and re&euml;nforced across at right angles and diagonally over the hips
+(though really there were no hip-places) with bars of whalebone and steel. The
+tin corsets I have heard of would not have been half as ill to wear. It is
+true, too, that needles were placed in the front of the stays, that the
+stay-wearer who “poked her head” would be well pricked. The daughter of General
+Nathanael Greene, the Revolutionary patriot, told her grandchildren that she
+sat many hours every day in her girlhood, with her feet in stocks and strapped
+to a backboard. A friend has a chair of ordinary size, save that the seat is
+about four inches wide from the front edge of seat to the back. And the back is
+well worn at certain points where a heavy leather strap strapped up the young
+girl who was tortured in it for six years of her life. The result of back
+board, stocks, steel collar, wooden stays, is shown in such figures as have
+Dorothy Q. and her sister Elizabeth. Elizabeth Storer, on page 98 of my
+<i>Child Life in Colonial Days</i>, is an extreme example, straight-backed
+indeed, but narrow-chested to match.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dr. Holmes wrote in jest, but he wrote in truth, too:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“They braced My Aunt against a board<br/>
+      To make her straight and tall,<br/>
+ They laced her up, they starved her down,<br/>
+      To make her light and small.<br/>
+ They pinched her feet, they singed her hair,<br/>
+      They screwed it up with pins,<br/>
+ Oh, never mortal suffered more<br/>
+      In penance for her sins.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Nankeen_Breeches_with_Silver_Buttons."></a>
+<img src="images/351.jpg" alt="Nankeen Breeches with Silver Buttons." />
+<p class="caption">Nankeen Breeches with Silver Buttons.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Nankeen was the favorite wear for boys, even before the Revolution. The little
+figure of the boy who became Lord Lyndhurst, shown in the Copley family
+portrait, is dressed in nankeen; he is the engaging, loving child looking up in
+his mother’s face. Nankeen was worn summer and winter by men, and women, and
+children. If it were deemed too thin and too damp a wear for delicate children
+in extreme winters, then a yellow color in wool was preferred for children’s
+dress. I have seen a little pair of breeches of yellow flannel made precisely
+like these nankeen breeches on this page. They were worn in 1768. Carlyle in
+his <i>Sartor Resartus</i> gives this account of the childhood of the professor
+and philosopher of his book:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“My first short clothes were of yellow serge; or rather, I should say, my first
+short cloth; for the vesture was one and indivisible, reaching from neck to
+ankle; a single body with four limbs; of which fashion how little could I then
+divine the architectural, much less the moral significance.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Ralph_Izard_when_a_Little_Boy._1750."></a>
+<img src="images/352.jpg" alt="Ralph Izard when a Little Boy. 1750." />
+<p class="caption">Ralph Izard when a Little Boy. 1750.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It is a curious coincidence that a great philosopher of our own world wore a
+precisely similar dress in his youth. Madam Mary Bradford writes in a private
+letter, at the age of one hundred and three, of her life in 1805 in the
+household of Rev. Joseph Emerson. Ralph Waldo Emerson was then a little child
+of two years, and he and his brother William till several years old were
+dressed wholly in yellow flannel, by night and by day. When they put on
+trousers, which was at about the age of seven, they wore complete home-made
+suits of nankeen. The picture amuses me of the philosophical child, Ralph
+Waldo, walking soberly around in ugly yellow flannel, contentedly sucking his
+thumb; for Mrs. Bradford records that he was the hardest child to break of
+sucking his thumb whom she ever had seen during her long life. I cannot help
+wondering whether in their soul-to-soul talks Emerson ever told Carlyle of the
+yellow woollen dress of his childhood, and thus gave him the thought of the
+child’s dress for his philosopher.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Fortunately for the children who were our grandparents. French fashions were
+not absorbingly the rage in America until after some amelioration of dress had
+come to French children. Mercier wrote at length at the close of the eighteenth
+century of the abominable artificiality and restraint in dress of French
+children; their great wigs, full-skirted coats, immense ruffles, swords on
+thigh, and hat in hand. He contrasts them disparagingly with English boys. The
+English boy was certainly more robust, but I find no difference in dress. Wigs,
+swords, ruffles, may be seen at that time both in English and American
+portraits. But an amelioration of dress did come to both English and American
+boys through the introduction of pantaloons, and a change to little girls’
+dress through the invention of pantalets, but the changes came first to France,
+in spite of Mercier’s animadversions. These changes will be left until the
+later pages of this book; for during nearly all the two hundred years of which
+I write children’s dress varied little. It followed the changes of the parent’s
+dress, and adopted some modes to a degree but never to an extreme.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>PERUKES AND PERIWIGS</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“As to a Periwigg, my best and Greatest Friend begun to find me with Hair
+before I was Born, and has continued to do so ever since, and I could not find
+it in my Heart to go to another.”<br/>
+</i> <br/>
+—“Diary,” JUDGE SAMUEL SEWALL, 1718.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>A phrensy or a periwigmanee<br/>
+That over-runs his pericranie.</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—JOHN BYRON, 1730 (circa).
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>PERUKES AND PERIWIGS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="95" src="images/initialt.jpg" alt="T" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+o-day, when every man, save a football player or some eccentric reformer or
+religious fanatic, displays in youth a close-cropped head, and when even hoary
+age is seldom graced with flowing, silvery locks, when women’s hair is dressed
+in simplicity, we can scarcely realize the important and formal part the hair
+played in the dress of the eighteenth century.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the great eagerness shown from earliest colonial days to acquire and
+reproduce in the New World every change of mode in the Old, to purchase rich
+dress, and to assume novel dress, no article was sought for more speedily and
+more anxiously than the wig. It has proved an interesting study to compare the
+introduction of wigs in England with the wear of the same form of head-gear in
+America. Wigs were not in general use in England when Plymouth and Boston were
+settled; though in Elizabeth’s day a “peryuke” had been bought for the court
+fool. They were not in universal wear till the close of the seventeenth
+century.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The “Wig Mania” arose in France in the reign of Louis XV. In 1656 the king had
+forty court perruquiers, who were termed and deemed artists, and had their
+academy. The wigs they produced were superb. It is told that one cost
+&pound;;200, a sum equal in purchasing power to-day to $5000. The French
+statesman and financier, Colbert, aghast at the vast sums spent for foreign
+hair, endeavored to introduce a sort of cap to supplant the wig, but fashions
+are not made that way.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_and_Reverend_Gurdon_Saltonstall."></a>
+<img src="images/356.jpg" alt="Governor and Reverend Gurdon Saltonstall." />
+<p class="caption">Governor and Reverend Gurdon Saltonstall.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+For information of English manners and customs in that day, I turn (and never
+in vain) to those fascinating volumes, the <i>Verney Memoirs</i>. From them I
+learn this of early wig-wearing by Englishmen; that Sir Ralph Verney, though in
+straitened circumstances during his enforced residence abroad, felt himself
+compelled to follow the French mode, which at that period, 1646, had not
+reached England. That exemplary gentleman paid twelve livres for a wig, when he
+was sadly short of money for household necessaries. It was an elaborate wig,
+curled in great rings, with two locks tied with black ribbon, and made without
+any parting at the back. This wig was powdered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sir Ralph wrote to his wife that a good hair-powder was very difficult to get
+and costly, even in France. It was an appreciable addition to the weight of the
+wig and to the expense, large quantities being used, sometimes as much as two
+pounds at a time. It added not only to the expense, but to the discomfort,
+inconvenience, and untidiness of wig-wearing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pomatum made of fat, and that sometimes rancid, was used to make the powder
+stick; and noxious substances were introduced into the powder, as a certain
+kind is mentioned which must not be used alone, for it would produce headache.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Charles II was the earliest king represented on the Great Seal wearing a large
+periwig. Dr. Doran assures us that the king did not bring the fashion to
+Whitehall. “He forbade,” we are told, “the members of the Universities to wear
+periwigs, smoke tobacco, or read their sermons. The members did all three, and
+Charles soon found himself doing the first two.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mayor_Rip_Van_Dam."></a>
+<img src="images/357.jpg" alt="Mayor Rip Van Dam." />
+<p class="caption">Mayor Rip Van Dam.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Pepys’s <i>Diary</i> contains much interesting information concerning the wigs
+of this reign. On 2d of November, 1663, he writes: “I heard the Duke say that
+he was going to wear a periwig, and says the King also will, never till this
+day observed that the King is mighty gray.” It was doubtless this change in the
+color of his Majesty’s hair that induced him to assume the head-dress he had
+previously so strongly condemned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The wig he adopted was very voluminous, richly curled, and black. He was very
+dark. “Odds fish! but I’m an ugly black fellow!” he said of himself when he
+looked at his portrait. Loyal colonists quickly followed royal example and
+complexion. We have very good specimens of this curly black wig in many
+American portraits.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As might be expected, and as befitted one who delighted to be in fashion, Pepys
+adopted this wig. He took time to consider the matter, and had consultations
+with Mr. Jervas, his old barber, about the affair. Referring to one of his
+visits to his hairdresser, Pepys says:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I did try two or three borders and periwigs, meaning to wear one, and yet I
+have no stomach for it; but that the pains of keeping my hair clean is great.
+He trimmed me, and at last I parted, but my mind was almost altered from my
+first purpose, from the trouble which I foresee in wearing them also.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Weeks passed before he could make up his mind to wear a wig. Mrs. Pepys was
+taken to the periwig-maker’s shop to see one, and expressed her satisfaction
+with it. We read in April, 1665, of the wig being back at Jervas’s under
+repair. Later, under date of September 3d, he writes:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Lord’s day. Up; and put on my coloured silk suit, very fine, and my new
+periwig, bought a good while since, but durst not wear, because the plague was
+in Westminster when I bought it; and it is a wonder what will be in fashion,
+after the plague is done, as to periwigs, for nobody will dare to buy any hair,
+for fear of the infection, that it had been cut off the heads of people dead of
+the plague.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In 1670, only, five years after this entry of Pepys, we find Governor Barefoot
+of New Hampshire wearing a periwig; and in 1675 the court of Massachusetts, in
+view of the distresses of the Indian wars, denounced the “manifest pride openly
+appearing amongst us in that long hair, like women’s hair is worn by some men,
+either their own hair, or others’ hair made into periwigs.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Abraham_De_Peyster."></a>
+<img src="images/359.jpg" alt="Abraham De Peyster." />
+<p class="caption">Abraham De Peyster.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In 1676 Wait Winthrop sent a wig (price &pound;;3) to his brother in New
+London. Mr. Sergeant had brought it from England for his own use; but was
+willing to sell it to oblige a friend, who was, I am confident, very devoted to
+wig-wearing. The largest wig that I recall upon any colonist’s head is in the
+portrait of Governor Fitz-John Winthrop. He is painted in armor; and a great
+wig never seems so absurd as when worn with armor. Horace Walpole said,
+“Perukes of outrageous length flowing over suits of armour compose wonderful
+habits.” An edge of Winthrop’s own dark hair seems to show under the wig front.
+I do not know the precise date of this portrait. It was, of course, painted in
+England. He served in the Parliamentary army with General Monck; returned to
+New England in 1663, and was commander of the New England forces. He spent 1693
+to l697 in England as commissioner. Sir Peter Lely and Sir Godfrey Kneller both
+were painting in England in those years, and both were constant in painting men
+with armor and perukes. This portrait seems like Kneller’s work.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_De_Bienville."></a>
+<img src="images/360.jpg" alt="Governor De Bienville." />
+<p class="caption">Governor De Bienville.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Another portrait attired also in armor and peruke is of Sir Nathaniel Johnson,
+who was appointed governor of South Carolina by the Lords Proprietors in 1702.
+The portrait was painted in 1705. It is one of the few of that date which show
+a faint mustache; he likewise wears a seal ring with coat-of-arms on the little
+finger of his left hand, which was unusual at that day. De Bienville, the
+governor of Louisiana, is likewise in wig and armor. In 1682 Thomas Richbell
+died in Boston, leaving a very rich and costly wardrobe. He had eight wigs. Of
+these, three were small periwigs worth but a pound apiece. In New York, in
+Virginia, in all the colonies, these wigs were worn, and were just as large and
+costly, as elaborately curled, as heavily powdered, as at the English and
+French courts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Archbishop Tillotson is usually regarded as the first amongst the English
+clergy to adopt the wig. He said in one of his sermons:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I can remember since the wearing of hair below the ears was looked upon as a
+sin of the first magnitude, and when ministers generally, whatever their text
+was, did either find or make occasion to reprove the great sin of long hair;
+and if they saw any one in the congregation guilty in that kind, they would
+point him out particularly, and let fly at him with great zeal.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Dr. Tillotson died on November 24, 1694.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Daniel_Waldo."></a>
+<img src="images/361.jpg" alt="Daniel Waldo." />
+<p class="caption">Daniel Waldo.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Long before that American preachers had felt it necessary to “let fly” also; to
+denounce wig-wearing from their pulpits. The question could not be settled,
+since the ministers themselves could not agree. John Wilson, the zealous Boston
+minister, wore one, and John Cotton (see <a
+href="#Reverend_John_Cotton.">here</a>); while Rev. Mr. Noyes preached long and
+often against the fashion. John Eliot, the noble preacher and missionary to the
+Indians, found time even in the midst of his arduous and incessant duties to
+deliver many a blast against “prolix locks,”—“with boiling zeal,” as Cotton
+Mather said,—and he labelled them a “luxurious feminine protexity”; but
+lamented late in life that “the lust for wigs is become insuperable.” He
+thought the horrors in King Philip’s War were a direct punishment from God for
+wig-wearing. Increase Mather preached warmly against wigs, calling them “Horrid
+Bushes of Vanity,” and saying that “such Apparel is contrary to the light of
+Nature, and to express Scripture,” and that “Monstrous Periwigs such as some of
+our church members indulge in make them resemble ye locusts that came out of ye
+Bottomless Pit.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Rev. George Weeks preached a sermon on impropriety in clothes. He said in
+regard to wig-wearing:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“We have no warrant in the word of God, that I know of, for our wearing of
+Periwigs except it be in extraordinary cases. Elisha did not cover his head
+with a Perriwigg altho’ it was bald. To see the greater part of Men in some
+congregations wearing Perriwiggs is a matter of deep lamentation. For either
+all these men had a necessity to cut off their Hair or else not. If they had a
+necessity to cut off their Hair then we have reason to take up a lamentation
+over the sin of our first Parents which hath occasioned so many Persons in our
+Congregation to be sickly, weakly, crazy Persons.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Long “Ruffianly” or “Russianly” (I know not which word is right) hair equally
+worried the parsons. President Chauncey of Harvard College preached upon it,
+for the college undergraduates were vexingly addicted to prolix locks. Rev. Mr.
+Wigglesworth’s sermon on the subject has often been reprinted, and is full of
+logical arguments. This offence was named on the list of existing evils which
+was made by the general court: that “the men wore long hair like women’s hair.”
+Still, the Puritan magistrates, omnipotent as they were in small things, did
+riot dare to force the becurled citizens of the little towns to cut their long
+love-locks, though they bribed them to do so. A Salem man was, in 1687, fined
+l0s. for a misdemeanor, but “in case he shall cutt off his long har of his head
+into a sevill (civil?) frame, in the mean time shall have abated 5s. of his
+fine.” John Eliot hated long, natural hair as well as false hair. Rev. Cotton
+Mather said of him, in a very unpleasant figure of speech, “The hair of them
+that professed religion grew too long for him to swallow.” His own hair curled
+on his shoulders, and would seem long to us to-day.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Reverend_John_Marsh."></a>
+<img src="images/363.jpg" alt="Reverend John Marsh." />
+<p class="caption">Reverend John Marsh.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+A climax of wig-hating was reached by one who has been styled “The Last of the
+Puritans”—Judge Samuel Sewall of Boston. Constant references in his diary show
+how this hatred influenced his daily life. He despised wigs so long and so
+deeply, he thought and talked and prayed upon them, until they became to him of
+undue importance; they became godless emblems of iniquity; an unutterable snare
+and peril.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We find Sewall copying with evident approval a “scandalous bill” which had been
+“posted” on the church in Plymouth in 1701. In this a few lines ran:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+ “Our churches are too genteel.<br/>
+Parsons grow trim and trigg<br/>
+With wealth, wine, and wigg,<br/>
+   And their crowns are covered with meal.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="John_Adams_in_Youth."></a>
+<img src="images/364.jpg" alt="John Adams in Youth." />
+<p class="caption">John Adams in Youth.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Bitter must have been his efforts to reconcile to his conscience the sight of
+wigs upon the heads of his parson friends, worn boldly in the pulpit. He would
+refrain from attending a church where the parson wore a wig; and his italicized
+praise of a dead friend was that he “was a true New-English man and
+<i>abominated periwigs</i>.” A Boston wig-maker died a drunkard, and Sewall
+took much melancholy satisfaction in dilating upon it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cotton Mather and Sewall had many pious differences and personal jealousies.
+The parson was a handsome man (see his picture <a
+href="#Reverend_Cotton_Mather.">here</a>), and he was a harmlessly and naively
+vain man. He quickly adopted a “great bush of vanity”—and a very personable
+appearance he makes in it. Soon we find him inveighing at length in the pulpit
+against “those who strain at a gnat and swallow a camel, those who were zealous
+against an innocent fashion taken up and used by the best of men.” “’Tis
+supposed he means wearing a Perriwigg,” writes Sewall after this sermon; “I
+expected not to hear a vindication of Perriwiggs in Boston pulpit by Mr.
+Mather.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poor Sewall! his regard of wigs had a severe test when he wooed Madam Winthrop
+late in life. She was a rich widow. He had courted her vainly for a second
+wife. And now he “yearned for her deeply” for a third wife, so he wrote. And
+ere she would consent or even discuss marriage she stipulated two things: one,
+that he keep a coach; the other, that he wear a periwig. When all the men of
+dignity and office in the colony were bourgeoning out in great flowing perukes,
+she was naturally a bit averse to an elderly lover in a skullcap or, as he
+often wore, a hood. His love did not make him waver; he stoutly persisted in
+his refusal to assume a periwig.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His portrait in a velvet skullcap shows a fringe of white curling hair with a
+few forehead locks. I fancy he was bald. Here is his entry with regard to young
+Parson Willard’s wig, in the year 1701:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Having last night heard that Josiah Willard had cut off his hair (a very full
+head of hair) and put on a wig, I went to him this morning. When I told his
+mother what I came about, she called him. Whereupon I inquired of him what
+extreme need had forced him to put off his own hair and put on a wig? He
+answered, none at all; he said that his hair was straight, and that it parted
+behind.<br/>
+<br/>
+“He seemed to argue that men might as well shave their hair off their head, as
+off their face. I answered that boys grew to be men before they had hair on
+their faces, and that half of mankind never have any beards. I told him that
+God seems to have created our hair as a test, to see whether we can bring our
+minds to be content at what he gives us, or whether wewould be our own carvers
+and come back to him for nothing more. We might dislike our skin or nails, as
+he disliked his hair; but in our case no thanks are due to us that we cut them
+not off; for pain and danger restrain us. Your duty, said I, is to teach men
+self-denial. I told him, further, that it would be displeasing and burdensome
+to good men for him to wear a wig, and they that care not what men think of
+them, care not what God thinks of them.<br/>
+<br/>
+“I told him that he must remember that wigs were condemned by a meeting of
+ministers at Northampton. I told him of the solemnity of the covenant which he
+and I had lately entered into, which put upon me the duty of discoursing to
+him.<br/>
+<br/>
+“He seemed to say that he would leave off his wig when his hair was grown
+again. I spoke to his father of it a day or two afterwards and he thanked me
+for reasoning with his son.<br/>
+<br/>
+“He told me his son had promised to leave off his wig when his hair was grown
+to cover his ears. If the father had known of it, he would have forbidden him
+to cut off his hair. His mother heard him talk of it, but was afraid to forbid
+him for fear he should do it in spite of her, and so be more faulty than if she
+had let him go his own way.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="JonathanEdwards2nd"></a>
+<img src="images/366.jpg" alt="Jonathan Edwards, 2nd." />
+<p class="caption">Jonathan Edwards, 2nd.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Soon nearly every parson in England and every colony wore wigs. John Wesley
+alone wore what seems to be his own white hair curled under softly at the ends.
+Whitfield is in a portentous wig like the one on Dr. Marsh <a
+href="#Reverend_John_Marsh.">(here</a>).
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the time of Queen Anne, wigs had multiplied vastly in variety as they had
+increased in size. I have been asked the difference between a peruke and a wig.
+Of course both, and the periwig, are simply wigs; but the term “peruke” is in
+general applied to a formal, richly curled wig; and the word “periwig” also
+conveys the distinction of a formal wig. Of less dignity were riding-wigs,
+nightcap wigs, and bag-wigs. Bag-wigs are said to have had their origin among
+French servants, who tied up their hair in a black leather bag as a speedy way
+of dressing it, and to keep it out of the way when at other and disordering
+duties.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Patrick_Henry."></a>
+<img src="images/367.jpg" alt="Patrick Henry." />
+<p class="caption">Patrick Henry.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In May, 1706, the English, led by Marlborough, gained a great victory on the
+battle-field of Ramillies, and that gave the title to a new wig described as
+“having a long, gradually diminishing, plaited tail, called the
+‘Ramillie-tail,’ which was tied with a great bow at the top and a smaller one
+at the bottom.” The hair also bushed out at both sides of the face. The
+Ramillies wig shown in Hogarth’s <i>Modern Midnight Conversation</i> hanging
+against the wall, is reproduced <a
+href="#CampaignRamilliesBobandPigtailWigs">here</a>. This wig was not at first
+deemed full-dress. Queen Anne was deeply offended because Lord Bolingbroke,
+summoned hurriedly to her, appeared in a Ramillies wig instead of a
+full-bottomed peruke. The queen remarked that she supposed next time Lord
+Bolingbroke would come in his nightcap. It was the same offending nobleman who
+brought in the fashion of the mean little tie-wigs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is stated in Read’s <i>Weekly Journal</i> of May 1, 1736, in an account of
+the marriage of the Prince of Wales, that the officers of the Horse and Foot
+Guards wore Ramillies periwigs when on parade, by his Majesty’s order. We meet
+in the reign of George II other forms of wigs and other titles; the most
+popular was the pigtail wig. The pigtail of this was worn hanging down the back
+or tied up in a knot behind. This pigtail wig, worn for so many years, is shown
+<a href="#CampaignRamilliesBobandPigtailWigs">here</a>. It was popular in the
+army for sixty years, but in 1804 orders were given for the pigtail to be
+reduced to seven inches in length, and finally, in 1808, to be cut off wholly,
+to the deep mourning of disciplinarians who deemed a soldier without a pigtail
+as hopeless as a Manx cat.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="KingCarterDied1732"></a>
+<img src="images/369.jpg" alt="“King” Carter. Died 1732." />
+<p class="caption">“King” Carter. Died 1732.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Bob-wigs, minor and major, came in during the reign of George II. The bob-wig
+was held to be a direct imitation of the natural hair, though, of course, it
+deceived no one; it was used chiefly by poorer folk. The ’prentice minor bob
+was close and short, the citizen’s bob major, or Sunday buckle, had several
+rows of curls. All these came to America by the hundreds—yes, by the thousands.
+Every profession and almost every calling had its peculiar wig. The caricatures
+of the period represent full-fledged lawyers with a towering frontlet and a
+long bag at the back tied in the middle; while students of the university have
+a wig flat on the top, to accommodate their stiff, square-cornered hats, and a
+great bag like a lawyer’s wig at the back.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Judge_Benjamin_Lynde."></a>
+<img src="images/370.jpg" alt="Judge Benjamin Lynde." />
+<p class="caption">Judge Benjamin Lynde.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+“When the law lays down its full-bottom’d periwig you will find less wisdom in
+bald pates than you are aware of,” says the <i>Choleric Man</i>. This lawyer’s
+wig is the only one which has not been changed or abandoned. You may see it
+here, on the head of Judge Benjamin Lynde of Salem. He died in 1745. Carlyle
+sneers:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Has not your Red hanging-individual a horsehair wig, squirrel-skins, and a
+plush-gown—whereby all Mortals know that he is a JUDGE?”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In the reigns of Anne and William and Mary perukes grew so vast and cumbersome
+that a wig was invented for travelling and for undress wear, and was called the
+“Campaign wig.” It would not seem very simple since it was made full and curled
+to the front, and had, so writes a contemporary, Randle Holme, in his
+<i>Academy of Armory</i>, 1684, “knots and bobs a-dildo on each side and a
+curled forehead.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A campaign wig from Holme’s drawing is shown <a
+href="#CampaignRamilliesBobandPigtailWigs">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There are constant references in old letters and in early literature in America
+which alter much the dates assigned by English authorities on costume: thus,
+knowing not of Randle Holme’s drawing, Sydney writes that the name “campaign”
+was applied to a wig, the name and fashion of which came to England from France
+in 1702. In the Letter-book of William Byrd of Westover, Virginia, in a letter
+written in June, 1690, to Perry and Lane, his English factors in London, he
+says, “I have by Tonner sent my long Periwig which I desire you to get made
+into a Campagne and send mee.” This was twelve years earlier than Sydney’s
+date. Fitz-John Winthrop wrote to England in 1695 for “two wiggs one a campane
+the other short.” The portrait of Fitz-John Winthrop shows a prodigious
+imposing wig, but it has no “knots or bobs a-dildo on each side,” though the
+forehead is curled; it is a fine example of a peruke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I cannot attempt even to name all the wigs, much less can I describe them;
+Hawthorne gave “the tie,” the “Brigadier,” the “Major,” the “Ramillies,” the
+grave “Full-bottom,” the giddy “Feather-top.” To these and others already named
+in this chapter I can add the “Neck-lock,” the “Allonge,” the “Lavant,” the
+“Vallancy,” the “Grecian fly wig,” the “Beau-peruke,” the “Long-tail,” the
+“Fox-tail,” the “Cut-wig,” the “Scratch,” the “Twist-wig.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Others named in 1753 in the <i>London Magazine</i> were the “Royal bird,” the
+“Rhinoceros,” the “Corded Wolf’s-paw,” “Count Saxe’s mode,” the “She-dragon,”
+the “Jansenist,” the “Wild-boar’s-back,” the “Snail-back,” the “Spinach-seed.”
+These titles were literal translations of French wig-names.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another wig-name was the “Gregorian.” We read in <i>The Honest Ghost</i>, 1658,
+“Pulling a little down his Gregorian, which was displac’t a little by his
+hastie taking off his beaver.” This wig was named from the inventor, one
+Gregory, “the famous peruke-maker who is buryed at St. Clements Danes Church.”
+In Cotgrave’s <i>Dictionary</i> perukes are called Gregorians.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="John_Rutledge."></a>
+<img src="images/372.jpg" alt="John Rutledge." />
+<p class="caption">John Rutledge.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the prologue to <i>Haut Ton</i>, written by George Colman, these wigs are
+named:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The Tyburn scratch, thick Club and Temple tyes,<br/>
+The Parson’s Feather-top, frizzed, broad and high.<br/>
+The coachman’s Cauliflower, built tier on tier.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+There was also the “Minister’s bob,” “Curley roys,” “Airy levants,” and
+“I—perukes.” The “Dalmahoy” was a bushy bob-wig.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Colonel John Carter died, he left to his brother Robert his cane, sword,
+and periwig. I believe this to be the very Valiancy periwig which, in all its
+snowy whiteness and air of extreme fashion, graces the head of the handsome
+young fellow as he is shown <a
+href="#KingCarterinYouthbySirGodfreyKneller">here</a>. Even the portrait shares
+the fascination which the man is said to have had for every woman. I have a
+copy of it now standing on my desk, where I can glance at him as I write; and
+pleasant company have I found the gay young Virginian—the best of company. It
+is good to have a companion so handsome of feature, so personable of figure, so
+laughing, care free, and debonair—isn’t it, King Robert?
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="CampaignRamilliesBobandPigtailWigs"></a>
+<img src="images/373.jpg" alt="Campaign, Ramillies, Bob, and Pigtail Wigs." />
+<p class="caption">Campaign, Ramillies, Bob, and Pigtail Wigs.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+These snowy wigs at a later date were called Adonis wigs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The cost of a handsome wig would sometimes amount to thirty, forty, and fifty
+guineas, though Swift grumbled at paying three guineas, and the exceedingly
+correct Mr. Pepys bought wigs at two and three pounds. It is not strange that
+they were often stolen. Gay, in his <i>Trivia</i>, thus tells the manner of
+their disappearance:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Nor is the flaxen wig with safety worn;<br/>
+ High on the shoulder, in a basket borne,<br/>
+ Lurks the sly boy, whose hand to rapine bred,<br/>
+ Plucks off the curling honors of the head.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In America wigs were deemed rich spoils for the sneak-thief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a vast trade in second-hand wigs. ’Tis said there was in Rosemary
+Lane in London a constantly replenished “Wig lottery.” It was, rather, a wig
+grab-bag. The wreck of gentility paid his last sixpence for appearances, dipped
+a long arm into a hole in a cask, and fished out his wig. It might be
+half-decent, or it might be fit only to polish shoes—worse yet, it might have
+been used already for that purpose. The lowest depths of everything were found
+in London. I doubt if we had any Rosemary Lane wig lotteries in New York, or
+Philadelphia, or Boston.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Rev._William_Welsteed."></a>
+<img src="images/374.jpg" alt="Rev. William Welsteed." />
+<p class="caption">Rev. William Welsteed.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+An answer to a query in a modern newspaper gives the word “caxon” as
+descriptive of a dress-wig. It was in truth a term for a wig, but it was a cant
+term, a slang phrase for the worst possible wig; thus Charles Lamb Wrote:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“He had two wigs both pedantic but of different omen. The one serene, smiling,
+fresh-powdered, betokening a mild day. The other an old discoloured, unkempt,
+angry caxon denoting frequent and bloody execution.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+All these wigs, even the bob-wig, were openly artificial. The manner of their
+make, their bindings, their fastening, as well as their material, completely
+destroyed any illusion which could possibly have been entertained as to their
+being a luxuriant crop of natural hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No one was ashamed of wearing a wig. On the contrary, a person with any sense
+of dignity was ashamed of being so unfashionable as to wear his own hair. It
+was a glorious time for those to whom Nature had been niggardly. A wig was as
+frankly extraneous as a hat. No attempt was made to imitate the roots of the
+hairs, or the parting. The hair was attached openly, and bound with a
+high-colored, narrow ribbon. Here is an advertisement from the <i>Boston News
+Letter</i> of August 14, 1729:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Taken from the shop of Powers Mariott, Barber, a light Flaxen Natural Wigg
+parted from the forehead to the Crown. The Narrow Ribband is of a Red Pink
+Color, the Caul is in rows of Red, Green and White Ribband.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Another “peruke-maker” lost a Flaxen “Natural” wig bound with peach-colored
+ribbon; while in 1755 Barber Coes, of Marblehead, lost “feather-tops” bound
+with various ribbons. Some had three colors on one wig—pink, green and purple.
+A goat’s-hair wig bound with red and purple, with green ribbons striping the
+caul, must have been a pretty and dignified thing on an old gentleman’s head.
+One of the most curious materials for a wig was fine wire, of which Wortley
+Montague’s wig was made.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Thomas_Hopkinson."></a>
+<img src="images/376.jpg" alt="Thomas Hopkinson." />
+<p class="caption">Thomas Hopkinson.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+We read in many histories of costume, among them Miss Hill’s recent history of
+English dress, that Quakers did not wear wigs. This is widely incorrect. Many
+Quakers wore most fashionably made wigs. William Penn wrote from England to his
+steward, telling him to allow Deputy Governor Lloyd to wear his (Penn’s) wigs.
+I suppose he wished his deputy to cut a good figure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the <i>New York Gazette</i> of May 9, 1737, we learn of a thief’s stealing
+“one gray Hair Wig, not the worse for wearing, one Pale Hair Wig, not worn five
+times, marked V. S. E., one brown Natural wig, One old wig of goat’s hair put
+in buckle.” Buckle meant to curl, and derivatively a wig was in buckle when it
+was rolled for curling. Roulettes or bilbouquettes for buckling a wig were
+little rollers of pipe clay. The hair was twisted up in them, and papers bound
+over them to fix them in place. The roulettes could be put in buckle hot, or
+they could be rolled cold and the whole wig heated. The latter was not favored;
+it damaged the wig. Moreover, a careless barber had often roasted a forgotten
+wig which he had put in buckle and in an oven.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The <i>New York Gazette</i> of May 12, 1750, had this alluring advertisement:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“This is to acquaint the Public, that there is lately arrived from London the
+Wonder of the World, <i>an Honest</i> Barber and Peruke Maker, who might have
+worked for the King, if his Majesty would have employed him: It was not for the
+want of Money he came here, for he had enough of that at Home, nor for the want
+of Business, that he advertises himself, BUT to acquaint the Gentlemen and
+Ladies, that <i>Such a Person is now in Town</i>, living near <i>Rosemary
+Lane</i> where Gentlemen and Ladies may be supplied with Goods as follows,
+viz.: Tyes, Full-Bottoms, Majors, Spencers, Fox-Tails, Ramalies, Tacks, cut and
+bob Perukes: Also Ladies Tatematongues and Towers after the Manner that is now
+wore at Court. <i>By their Humble and Obedient Servant</i>,<br/>
+<br/>
+“JOHN STILL.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Reverend_Dr._Barnard"></a>
+<img src="images/378.jpg" alt="Reverend Dr. Barnard." />
+<p class="caption">Reverend Dr. Barnard.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+“Perukes,” says Malcolm, in his <i>Manners and Customs</i>, “were an highly
+important article in 1734.” Those of right gray human hair were four guineas
+each; light grizzle ties, three guineas; and other colors in proportion, to
+twenty-five shillings. Right gray human hair cue perukes, from two guineas to
+fifteen shillings each, was the price of dark ones; and right gray bob perukes,
+two guineas and a half to fifteen shillings, the price of dark bobs. Those
+mixed with horsehair were much lower.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Prices were a bit higher in America. It was held that better wigs were made in
+England than in America or France; so the letter-books and agent’s-lists of
+American merchants are filled with orders for English wigs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Imperative orders for the earliest and extremest new fashions stood from year
+to year on the lists of fashionable London wig-makers; and these constant
+orders came from Virginia gentlemen and Massachusetts magistrates,—not a few,
+too, from the parsons,—scantly paid as they were. The smaller bob-wigs and
+tie-wigs were precisely the same in both countries, and I am sure were no later
+in assumption in America than was necessitated by the weeks occupied in coming
+across seas.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Throughout the seventeenth century all classes of men in American towns wore
+wigs. Negro slaves flaunted white horsehair wigs, goat’s-hair bob-wigs, natural
+wigs, all the plainer wigs, and all the more costly sorts when these were half
+worn and secondhand. Soldiers wore wigs; and in the <i>Massachusetts
+Gazette</i> of the year 1774 a runaway negro is described as wearing a curl of
+hair tied around his head to imitate a scratch wig; with his woolly crown this
+dangling curl must have been the height of absurdity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is not surprising to find in the formal life of the English court the poor
+little tormented, sickly, sad child of Queen Anne wearing, before he was seven
+years old, a large full-bottomed wig; but it is curious to see the portraits of
+American children rigged up in wigs (I have half a dozen such), and to find
+likewise an American gentleman (and not one of wealth either) paying &pound;;9
+apiece for wigs for three little sons of seven, nine, and eleven years of age.
+This lavish parent was Enoch Freeman, who lived in Portland, Maine, in 1754.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Wigs were objects of much and constant solicitude and care; their dressing was
+costly, and they wore out readily. Barbers cared for them by the month or year,
+visiting from house to house. Ten pounds a year was not a large sum to be paid
+for the care of a single wig. Men of dignity and careful dress had barbers’
+bills of large amount, such men as Governor John Hancock, Governor Hutchinson,
+and Governor Belcher. On Saturday afternoons the barbers’ boys were seen flying
+through the narrow streets, wig-box in hand, hurrying to deliver all the
+dressed wigs ere sunset came.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No doubt the constant wearing of such hot, heavy head-covering made the hair
+thin and the head bald; thus wigs became a necessity. Men had their heads very
+closely covered of old, and caught cold at a breath. Pepys took cold throwing
+off his hat while at dinner. If the wig were removed even within doors a close
+cap or hood at once took its place, or, as I tell elsewhere, a turban of some
+rich stuff. In America, in the Southern states, where people were poor and
+plantations scattered, all men did not wear wigs. A writer in the <i>London
+Magazine</i> in 1745 tells of this country carelessness of dress. He says that
+except some of the “very Elevated Sort” few wore perukes; so that at first
+sight “all looked as if about to go to bed,” for all wore caps. Common people
+wore woollen caps; richer ones donned caps of white cotton or Holland linen.
+These were worn even when riding fifty miles from home. He adds, “It may be
+cooler for aught I know; but methinks ’tis very ridiculous.” So wonted were his
+eyes to perukes, that his only thought of caps was that they were “ridiculous.”
+Nevertheless, when a shipload of servants, bond-servants who might be stolen
+when in drink, or lured under false pretences, might be convicts, or honest
+workmen,—when these transports were set up in respectability,—scores of new
+wigs of varying degrees of dignity came across seas with them. Many an old
+caxon or “gossoon”—a wig worn yellow with age—ended its days on the pate of a
+redemptioner, who thereby acquired dignity and was more likely to be bought as
+a schoolmaster. Truly our ancestors were not squeamish, and it is well they
+were not, else they would have squeamed from morning till night at the sights,
+and sounds, and things, and dirt around them. But these be parlous words; they
+had the senses and feelings of their day—suited to the surroundings of their
+day. In one thing they can be envied. Knowing not of germs and microbes,
+dreaming not of antiseptics and fumigation, they could be happy in blissful
+unconsciousness of menacing environment—a blessing wholly denied to us.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Andrew_Ellicott."></a>
+<img src="images/381.jpg" alt="Andrew Ellicott." />
+<p class="caption">Andrew Ellicott.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+When James Murray came from Scotland in 1735 he went up the Cape Fear River in
+North Carolina to the struggling settlements of Brunswick. The stock of wigs
+which he brought as one of the commodities of his trade had absolutely no
+market. In 1751 he wrote thus to his London wig-maker:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“We deal so much in caps in this country that we are almost as careless of the
+outside as of the inside of our heads. I have had but one wig since the last I
+had of you, and yours has outworn it. Now I am near out, and you may make me a
+new grisel Bob.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Nevertheless, in 1769, when he was roughly handled in Boston on account of his
+Tory utterances, his head, though he was but fifty-six, was bald from
+wig-wearing. His spirited recital runs thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The crowd intending sport, remained. As I was pressing out, my Wig was pulled
+off and a pate shaved by Time and the barber was left exposed. This was thought
+a signal and prelude to further insult; which would probably have taken place
+but for hindering the cause. Going along in this plight, surrounded by the
+crowd, in the dark, a friend hold of either arm supporting me, while somebody
+behind kept nibbling at my sides and endeavouring of treading the reforming
+justice out of me by the multitude. My wig dishevelled, was borne on a staff
+behind. My friends and supporters offered to house me, but I insisted on going
+home in the present trim, and was landed in safety.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Patriotic Boston barbers found much satisfaction in ill treating the wigs of
+their Tory customers and patrons. William Pyncheon, a Salem Tory, wrote a few
+years later:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The tailors and barbers, in their squinting and fleering at our clothes, and
+especially our wiggs, begin to border on malevolence. Had not the caul of my
+wigg been of uncommon stuff and workmanship, I think my barber would have had
+it in pieces: his dressing it greatly resembles the farmer dressing his flax,
+the latter of the two being the gentlest in his motions.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Worcester Tories, among them Timothy Paine, had their wigs pulled off in
+public. Mr. Paine at once gave his dishonored wig to one of his negro slaves,
+and never after resumed wig-wearing.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BEARD</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Though yours be sorely lugged and torn<br/>
+It does your Visage more adorn<br/>
+Than if ’twere prun’d, and starch’d, and launder’d<br/>
+And cut square by the Russian standard.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Hudibras,” SAMUEL BUTLER.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“Now of beards there be such company<br/>
+And fashions such a throng<br/>
+That it is very hard to handle a beard<br/>
+Tho’ it be never so long.<br/>
+<br/>
+“’Tis a pretty sight and a grave delight<br/>
+That adorns both young and old<br/>
+A well thatch’t face is a comely grace<br/>
+And a shelter from the cold”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Le Prince d’Amour,” 1660.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BEARD</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="90" height="93" src="images/initialm.jpg" alt="M" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+en’s hair on their heads hath ever been at odds with that on their face. If the
+head were well covered and the hair long, then the face was smooth shaven.
+William the Conqueror had short hair and a beard, then came a long-haired king,
+then a cropped one; Edward IV’s subjects had long hair and closely cut beards.
+Henry VII fiercely forbade beards. The great sovereign Henry VIII ordered short
+hair like the French, and wore a beard. Through Elizabeth’s day and that of
+James the beard continued. Not until great perukes overshadowed the whole face
+did the beard disappear. It vanished for a century as if men were beardless;
+but after men began to wear short hair in the early years of the nineteenth
+century, bearded men appeared. A few German mystics who had come to America
+full-bearded were stared at like the elephant, and a sight of them was recorded
+in a diary as a great event.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is no doubt that, to the general reader, the ordinary thought of the
+Puritan is with a beard, a face and figure much like the Hogarth illustrations
+of Hudibras—one of the “Presbyterian true Blue,” “the stubborn crew of Errant
+Saints,”—without the grotesquery of face and feature, perhaps, but certainly
+with all the plainness and gracelessness of dress and the commonplace beard.
+The wording of Hudibras also figures the popular conception:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“His tawny Beard was th’ equal Grace<br/>
+Both of his Wisdom and his Face:<br/>
+       *       *       *       *       *<br/>
+“His Doublet was of sturdy Buff<br/>
+And tho’ not Sword, was Cudgel-Proof.<br/>
+His Breeches were of rugged Woolen<br/>
+And had been at the Siege of Bullen.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="HerbertWestphalingBishopofHereford"></a>
+<img src="images/385.jpg" alt="Herbert Westphaling, Bishop of Hereford." />
+<p class="caption">Herbert Westphaling, Bishop of Hereford.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In truth this is well enough as far as it runs and for one suit of clothing;
+but this was by no means a universal dress, nor was it a universal beard.
+Indeed beards were fearfully and wonderfully varied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That humorous old rhymester, Taylor, the “Water Poet,” may be quoted at length
+on the vanity thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“And Some, to set their Love’s-Desire on Edge<br/>
+Are cut and prun’d, like to a Quickset Hedge.<br/>
+Some like a Spade, some like a Forke, some square,<br/>
+Some round, some mow’d like stubble, some starke bare;<br/>
+Some sharpe, Stilletto-fashion, Dagger-like,<br/>
+That may with Whispering a Man’s Eyes unpike;<br/>
+Some with the Hammer-cut, or Roman T.<br/>
+Their Beards extravagant, reform’d must be.<br/>
+Some with the Quadrate, some Triangle fashion;<br/>
+Some circular, some ovall in translation;<br/>
+Some Perpendicular in Longitude,<br/>
+Some like a Thicket for their Crassitude,<br/>
+That Heights, Depths, Breadths, Triform, Square, Ovall, Round<br/>
+And Rules Geometrical in Beards are found.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Taylor’s own beard was screw-shaped. I fancy he invented it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Anglo-Saxon beard was parted, and this double form remained for a long
+time. Sometimes there were two twists or two long forks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A curious pointed beard, a beard in two curls, is shown <a
+href="#JamesDouglasEarlofMorton">here</a>, on James Douglas, Earl of Morton. A
+still more strangely kept one, pointed in the middle of the chin, and kept in
+two rolls which roll toward the front, is upon the aged herald, <a
+href="#The_Herald_Vandum.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard II had a mean beard,—two little tufts on the chin known as “the
+mouse-eaten beard, here a tuft, there a tuft.” The round beard “like a half a
+Holland cheese” is always seen in the depictions of Falstaff; “a great round
+beard” we know he had. This was easily trimmed, but others took so much time
+and attention that pasteboard boxes were made to tie over them at night, that
+they might be unrumpled in the morning.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="The_Herald_Vandum."></a>
+<img src="images/387.jpg" alt="The Herald Vandum." />
+<p class="caption">The Herald Vandum.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the reign of Elizabeth and of James I a beard and whiskers or mustache were
+universally worn. In the time of Charles I the general effect of beard and
+mustache was triangular, with the mouth in the centre, as in the portrait of
+Waller <a href="#Sir_William_Waller.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A beard of some form was certainly universal in 1620. Often it was the orderly
+natural growth shown on Winthrop’s face; a smaller tuft on the chin with a
+mustache also was much worn. Many ministers in America had this chin-tuft.
+Among them were John Eliot and John Davenport. The Stuarts wore a pointed
+beard, carefully trimmed, and a mustache; but the natural beard seems to have
+disappeared with the ruff. Charles II clung for a time to a mustache; his
+portrait by Mary Beale has one; but with the great development of the periwig
+came a smooth face. This continued until the nineteenth century brought a
+fashion of bearded men again; a fashion which was so abhorred, so reviled, so
+openly warred with that I know of the bequest of a large estate with the
+absolute and irrevocable condition that the inheritor should never wear a beard
+of any form.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The hammer cut was of the reign of Charles I. It was T-shaped. In the play,
+<i>The Queen of Corinth</i>, 1647, are the lines:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+      “He strokes his beard<br/>
+Which now he puts in the posture of a T,<br/>
+The Roman T. Your T-beard is in fashion.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The spade beard is shown <a href="#Scotch_Beard.">here</a>. It was called the
+“broad pendant,” and was held to make a man look like a warrior. The sugar-loaf
+beard was the natural form much worn by Puritans; by natural I mean not twisted
+into any “strange antic forms.” The swallow-tail cut (about 1600) is more
+unusual, but was occasionally seen.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The stiletto-beard<br/>
+It makes me afeard<br/>
+     It is so sharp beneath.<br/>
+For he that doth place<br/>
+A dagger in his face<br/>
+     What wears he in his sheath?”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+An unusually fine stiletto beard is on the chin of John Endicott (<a
+href="#Governor_John_Endicott">here</a>). It was distinctly a soldier’s beard.
+Endicott was major-general of the colonial forces and a severe disciplinarian.
+Shakespere, in <i>Henry V</i>, speaks of “a beard of the General’s cut.” It was
+worn by the Earl of Southampton (see <a href="#Earl_of_Southampton.">here</a>),
+and perhaps Endicott favored it on that account. The pique-devant beard or
+“pick-a-devant beard, O Fine Fashion,” was much worn. A good moderate example
+may be seen upon Cousin Kilvert, with doublet and band, in the print <a
+href="#Alderman_Abell_and_Richard_Kilvert">here</a>. An extreme type was the
+beard of Robert Greene, the Elizabethan dramatist, “A jolly long red peake like
+the spire of a steeple, which he wore continually, whereat a man might hang a
+jewell; it was so sharp and pendent.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Scotch_Beard."></a>
+<img src="images/389.jpg" alt="Scotch Beard." />
+<p class="caption">Scotch Beard.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The word “peak” was constantly used for a beard, and also the words “spike” and
+“spear.” A barber is represented in an old play as asking whether his customer
+will “have his peak cut short and sharp; or amiable like an inamorato, or broad
+pendant like a spade; to be terrible like a warrior and a soldado; to have his
+appendices primed, or his mustachios fostered to turn about his eares like ye
+branches of a vine.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A broad square-cut beard spreading at the ends like an open fan is the
+“cathedral beard” of Randle Holme, “so called because grave men of the church
+did wear it.” It is often seen in portraits. One of these is shown <a
+href="#Dr._William_Slater._Cathedral_Beard.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Dr._William_Slater._Cathedral_Beard."></a>
+<img src="images/390.jpg" alt="Dr. William Slater. Cathedral Beard." />
+<p class="caption">Dr. William Slater. Cathedral Beard.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the <i>Life of Mrs. Elizabeth Thomas</i>, 1731, she writes of her
+grandfather, a Turkey-merchant:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“He was very nice in the Mode of his Age—his Valet being some hours every
+morning in <i>Starching</i> his <i>Beard</i> and Curling his Whiskers during
+which Time a Gentleman whom he maintained as Companion always read to him upon
+some useful subject.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+So we may believe they really “starched” their beards, stiffened them with some
+dressing. Taylor, the “Water Poet” (1640), says of beards:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Some seem as they were starched stiff and fine<br/>
+Like to the Bristles of some Angry Swine.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Dr._John_Dee._1600."></a>
+<img src="images/390a.jpg" alt="Dr. John Dee. 1600." />
+<p class="caption">Dr. John Dee. 1600.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Dr. Dee’s extraordinary beard I can but regard as an affectation of
+singularity, assumed doubtless to attract attention, and to be a sign of
+unusual parts. Aubrey, his friend, calls him “a very handsome man; of very
+fair, clear, sanguine complexion, with a long beard as white as milke. He was
+tall and slender. He wore a gowne like an artist’s gowne; with hanging sleeves
+and a slitt. A mighty good man he was.” The word “artist” then meant artisan;
+and in this reference means a smock like a workman’s.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A name seen often in Winthrop’s letters is that of Sir Kenelm Digby. He was an
+intimate correspondent of John Winthrop the second, and it would not be strange
+if he did many errands for Winthrop in England besides purchasing drugs. His
+portrait, and a lugubrious one it is, is one of the few of his day which shows
+an untrimmed beard. Aubrey says of him that after the death of his wife he wore
+“a long mourning cloak, a high cornered hatt, his beard unshorn, look’t like a
+hermit; as signs of sorrow for his beloved wife. He had something of the
+sweetness of his mother’s face.” This sweetness is, however, not to be
+perceived in his unattractive portrait.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Q. Why is a Wife like a Patten? A. Both are Clogs.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—Old Riddle.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="88" src="images/initialw.jpg" alt="W" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+hen this old pigskin trunk was new, the men who fought in the Revolution were
+young. Here is the date, “1756,” and the initials in brass-headed nails,
+“J.E.H.” It was a bride’s trunk, the trunk of Elizabeth, who married John; and
+it was marked after the manner of marking the belongings of married folk in her
+day. It is curious in shape, spreading out wide at the top; for it was made to
+fit a special place in an old coach. I have told the story of that ancient
+coach in my <i>Old Narragansett</i>: the tale of the ignoble end of its days,
+the account of its fall from transportation of this happy bride and bridegroom,
+through years of stately use and formal dignity to more years of happy
+desuetude as a children’s cubby-house; and finally its ignominy as a
+roosting-place, and hiding-place, and laying-place, and setting-place of
+misinformed and misguided hens. Under the coachman’s seat, where the two-score
+dark-blue Staffordshire pie-plates were found on the day of the annihilation of
+the coach, was the true resting-place of this trunk. It was a hidden spot, for
+the trunk was small, and was intended to hold only treasures. It holds them
+still, though they are not the silver-plate, the round watches, the narrow
+laces, and the precious camel’s-hair scarf. It now holds treasured relics of
+the olden time; trifles, but not unconsidered ones; much esteemed trifles are
+they, albeit not in form or shape or manner of being fit to rest in parlor
+cabinets or on tables, but valued, nevertheless, valued for that most
+intangible of qualities—association.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Iron_and_Leather_Pattens._1760."></a>
+<img src="images/394.jpg" alt="Iron and Leather Pattens. 1760." />
+<p class="caption">Iron and Leather Pattens. 1760.
+</p></div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="OakIronandLeatherClogs1790"></a>
+<img src="images/395.jpg" alt="Oak, Iron, and Leather Clogs. 1790." />
+<p class="caption">Oak, Iron, and Leather Clogs. 1790.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Here is one little “antick.” It is an ample bag with the neat double
+drawing-strings of our youth; a bag, nay, a pocket. It once hung by the side of
+some one of my forbears, perhaps Elizabeth of the brass-nailed initials. It was
+a much-esteemed pocket, though it is only of figured cotton or chiney; but
+those stuffs were much sought after when this old trunk was new. The pocket has
+served during recent years as a cover for two articles of footwear which many
+“of the younger sort” to-day have never seen—they are pattens. “Clumsy, ugly
+pattens” we find them frequently stigmatized in the severe words of the early
+years of the nineteenth century, but there is nothing ugly or clumsy about this
+pair. The sole is of some black, polished wood—it is heavy enough for ebony;
+the straps are of strong leather neatly stitched; the buckles are polished
+brass, and brass nails fasten the leather to the wooden soles. These soles are
+cut up high in a ridge to fit under the instep of a high-heeled shoe; for it
+was a very little lady who wore these pattens,—Elizabeth,—and her little feet
+always stood in the highest heels. She was active, kindly, and bountiful. She
+lived to great age, and she could and did walk many miles a day until the last
+year of her life. She is recalled as wearing a great scarlet cloak with a black
+silk quilted hood on cold winter days, when she visited her neighbors with
+kindly words, and housewifely, homely gifts, conveyed in an ample basket. The
+cloak was made precisely like the scarlet cloak shown <a
+href="#Scarlet_Broadcloth_Hooded_Cloak.">here</a>, and had a like hood. She was
+brown-eyed, and her dark hair was never gray even in extreme old age; nor was
+the hair of her granddaughter, another Elizabeth, my grandmother. Trim and
+erect of figure, and precise and neat of dress, wearing, on account of this
+neatness, shorter petticoats, when walking, than was the mode of her day, and
+also through this neatness clinging to the very last to these cleanly, useful,
+quaint pattens. Her black hood, frilled white cap, short, quilted petticoat,
+high-heeled shoes, and the shining ebony and brass pattens, and over all the
+great, full scarlet cloak,—all these made her an unusual and striking figure
+against the Wayland landscape, the snowy fields and great sombre pine trees of
+Heard’s Island, as she trod trimly, in short pattened steps that crackled the
+kittly-benders in the shadowed roads, or sunk softly in the shallow mud of the
+sunny lanes on a snow-melting day in late winter. Would I could paint the
+picture as I see it!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These pattens in the old trunk are prettier than most pattens which have been
+preserved. In general, they are rather shabby things. I have another pair—more
+commonplace, which chance to exist; they were not saved purposely. They are
+pictured <a href="#Iron_and_Leather_Pattens._1760.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="English_Clogs."></a>
+<img src="images/397.jpg" alt="English Clogs." />
+<p class="caption">English Clogs.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+There is a most ungallant old riddle, “Why is a wife like a patten?” The answer
+reads, “Because both are clogs.” A very courteous bishop was once asked this
+uncivil query, and he answered without a moment’s hesitation, “Because both
+elevate the soul (sole).” Pattens may be clogs, yet there is a difference.
+After much consultation of various authorities, and much discussion in the
+columns of various querying journals, I make this decision and definition.
+Pattens are thick, wooden soles roughly shaped in the outline of the human foot
+(in the shoemaker’s notion of that member), mounted on a round or oval ring of
+iron, fixed by two or three pins to the sole, in such a way that when the
+patten is worn the sole of the wearer’s foot is about two inches above the
+ground. A heel-piece with buckles and straps, strings or buttons and leather
+loops, and a strap over the toe, retain the patten in place upon the foot when
+the wearer trips along. (See <a
+href="#Iron_and_Leather_Pattens._1760.">here</a>.) Clogs serve the same
+purpose, but are simply wooden soles tipped and shod with iron. These also have
+heel-pieces and straps of various materials—from the heavy serviceable leather
+shown in the clogs <a href="#OakIronandLeatherClogs1790">here</a> and <a
+href="#English_Clogs.">here</a> to the fine brocade clogs made and worn by two
+brides and pictured <a href="#BridesClogsofBrocadeandSoleLeather">here</a>.
+Dainty brass tips and colored morocco straps made a really refined pair of
+clogs. Poplar wood was deemed the best wood for pattens and clogs. Sometimes
+the wooden sole was thin, and was cut at the line under the instep in two
+pieces and hinged. These hinges were held to facilitate walking. Children also
+wore clogs. (See <a href="#ChildrensClogs1730">here</a>.) Clogs, as worn by
+English and American folk, did not raise the wearer as high above the mud and
+mire as did pattens, but I have seen Turkish clogs that were ten inches high.
+Chopines were worn by Englishwomen to make them look taller. Three are shown <a
+href="#ChopinesSeventeenthCentury">here</a>. Lady Falkland was short and stout,
+and wore them for years to increase her apparent height; so she states in her
+memoirs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is a curious philological study that, while the words “clogs” and “pattens”
+for a time were constantly heard, the third name which has survived till to-day
+is the oldest of all—“galoshes.” Under the many spellings, galoe-shoes,
+goloshes, gallage, galoche, and gallosh, it has come down to us from the Middle
+Ages. It is spelt galoches in <i>Piers Plowman</i>. In a <i>Compotus</i>—or
+household account of the Countess of Derby in 1388 are entries of botews
+(boots), souters (slippers), and “one pair of galoches, 14 d.” Clogs, or
+galoches, were known in the days of the Saxons, when they were termed “wife’s
+shoes.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A “galage” was a shoe “which has nothing on the feet but a latchet”; it was
+simply a clog. In February, 1687, Judge Sewall notes, “Send my mothers Shoes
+&amp;; Golowshoes to carry to her.” In 1736 Peter Faneuil sent to England for
+“Galoushoes” for his sister. Another foot-covering for slippery, icy walking is
+named by Judge Sewall. He wrote on January 19, 1717, “Great rain and very
+Slippery; was fain to wear Frosts.” These frosts were what had been called on
+horses, “frost nails,” or calks. They were simply spiked soles to help the
+wearer to walk on ice. A pair may be seen at the Deerfield Memorial Hall.
+Another pair is of half-soles with sharp ridges of iron, set, one the length of
+the half-sole, the other across it.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="ChopinesSeventeenthCentury"></a>
+<img src="images/399.jpg" alt="Chopines, Seventeenth Century. In the Ashmolean
+Museum." />
+<p class="caption">Chopines, Seventeenth Century. In the Ashmolean Museum.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+For a time clogs seem to have been in constant use in America; frail morocco
+slippers and thin prunella and callimanco shoes made them necessary, as did
+also the unpaved streets. Heavy-soled shoes were unknown for women’s wear.
+Women walked but short distances. In the country they always rode. We find even
+Quaker women warned in 1720 not to wear “Shoes of light Colours bound with
+Differing Colours, and heels White or Red, with White bands, and fine Coloured
+Clogs and Strings, and Scarlet and Purple Stockings and Petticoats made Short
+to expose them”—a rather startling description of footwear. Again, in 1726, in
+Burlington, New Jersey, Friends were asked to be “careful to avoid wearing of
+Stript Shoos, or Red and White Heel’d Shoos, or Clogs, or Shoos trimmed with
+Gawdy Colours.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="BridesClogsofBrocadeandSoleLeather"></a>
+<img src="images/400.jpg" alt="Brides’ Clogs of Brocade and Sole Leather." />
+<p class="caption">Brides’ Clogs of Brocade and Sole Leather.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Ann Warder, an English Quaker, was in Philadelphia, 1786 to 1789, and kept an
+entertaining journal, from which I make this quotation:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Got B. Parker to go out shopping with me. On our way happened of Uncle Head,
+to whom I complained bitterly of the dirty streets, declaring if I could
+purchase a pair of pattens, the singularity I would not mind. Uncle soon found
+me up an apartment, out of which I took a pair and trotted along quite
+Comfortable, crossing some streets with the greatest ease, which the idea of
+had troubled me. My little companion was so pleased, that she wished some also,
+and kept them on her feet to learn to walk in them most of the remainder of the
+day.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Fairholt, in his book upon costume, says, “Pattens date their origin to the
+reign of Anne.” Like many other dates and statements given by this author, this
+is wholly wrong. In <i>Purchas’, his Pilgrimage</i>, 1613, is this sentence,
+“Clogges or Pattens to keep them out of the dust they may not burden themselves
+with,” showing that the name and thing was the same then as to-day.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="ClogsofPennsylvaniaDutch"></a>
+<img src="images/401.jpg" alt="Clogs of “Pennsylvania Dutch.”" />
+<p class="caption">Clogs of “Pennsylvania Dutch.”
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Charles Dibdin has a song entitled, <i>The Origin of the Patten</i>. Fair Patty
+went out in the mud and the mire, and her thin shoes speedily were wet. Then
+she became hoarse and could not sing, while her lover longed for the sweet
+sound of her voice.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“My anvil glow’d, my hammer rang,<br/>
+Till I had form’d from out the fire<br/>
+To bear her feet above the mire,<br/>
+A platform for my blue-eyed Patty.<br/>
+Again was heard each tuneful close,<br/>
+My fair one in the patten rose,<br/>
+  Which takes its name from blue-eyed Patty.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This fanciful derivation of the word was not an original thought of Dibdin. Gay
+wrote in his Trivia, 1715:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The patten now supports each frugal dame<br/>
+That from the blue-eyed Patty takes the name.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In reality, patten is derived from the French word <i>patin</i>, which has a
+varied meaning of the sole of a shoe or a skate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pattens were noisy, awkward wear. A writer of the day of their universality
+wrote, “Those ugly, noisy, ferruginous, ancle-twisting, foot-cutting, clinking
+things called women’s pattens.” Notices were set in church porches enjoining
+the removal of women’s pattens, which, of course, should never have been worn
+into church during service-time.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="ChildrensClogs1730"></a>
+<img src="images/402.jpg" alt="Children’s Clogs. 1730." />
+<p class="caption">Children’s Clogs. 1730.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It may have disappeared today, but four years ago, on the door of Walpole St.
+Peters, near Wisbeck, England, hung a board which read, “People who enter this
+church are requested to take off their pattens.” A friend in Northamptonshire,
+England, writes me that pattens are still seen on muddy days in remote English
+villages in that shire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Men wore pattens in early days. And men did and do wear clogs in English
+mill-towns.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were also horse pattens or horse clogs which horses wore through deep,
+muddy roads; I have an interesting photograph of a pair found in Northampton.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“By my Faith! Master Inkpen, thou hast put thy foot in it! Tis a pretty
+subject and a strange one, and a vast one, but we’ll leave it never a sole to
+stand on. The proverb hath ‘There’s naught like leather,’ but my Lady answers
+‘Save silk:’”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—Old Play.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="87" src="images/initialo.jpg" alt="O" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+ne of the first sumptuary laws in New England declared that men of mean estate
+should not walk abroad in immoderate great boots. It was a natural prohibition
+where all extravagance in dress was reprehended and restrained. The “great
+boots” which had been so vast in the reign of James I seemed to be spreading
+still wider in the reign of Charles. I have an old “Discourse” on leather dated
+1629, which states fully the condition of things. Its various headings read,
+“The general Use of Leather;” “The general Abuse thereof;” “The good which may
+arise from the Reformation;” “The several Statutes made in that behalf by our
+ancient Kings;” and lastly a “Petition to the High Court of Parliament.” It is
+all most informing; for instance, in the trades that might want work were it
+not for leather are named not only “shoemakers, cordwainers, curriers, etc.,”
+but many now obsolete. The list reads:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Book binders.<br/>
+Budget makers.<br/>
+Saddlers.<br/>
+Trunk makers.<br/>
+Upholsterers.<br/>
+Belt makers.<br/>
+Case makers.<br/>
+Box makers.<br/>
+Wool-card makers.<br/>
+Cabinet makers.<br/>
+Shuttle makers.<br/>
+Bottle and Jack makers.<br/>
+Hawks-hood makers.<br/>
+Gridlers.<br/>
+Scabbard-makers.<br/>
+Glovers.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Unwillingly the author added “those <i>upstart trades</i>—Coach Makers, and
+Harness Makers for Coach Horses.” It was really feared, by this sensible
+gentleman-writer—and many others—that if many carriages and coaches were used,
+shoemakers would suffer because so few shoes would be worn out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the statutes which are rehearsed we learn that the footwear of the day was
+“boots, shoes, buskins, startups, slippers, or pantofles.” Stubbes said:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“They have korked shooes puisnets pantoffles, some of black velvet, some of
+white some of green, some of yellow, some of Spanish leather, some of English
+leather stitched with Silke and embroidered with Gold &amp;; Silver all over
+the foot.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A very interesting book has been published by the British Cordwainers’ Guild,
+giving a succession of fine illustrations of the footwear of different times
+and nations. Among them are some handsome English slippers, shoes, jack-boots,
+etc. We have also in our museums, historical collections, and private families
+many fine examples; but the difficulty is in the assigning of correct dates.
+Family tradition is absolutely wide of the truth—its fabulous dates are often a
+century away from the proper year.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="The_Copley_Family_Picture."></a>
+<img src="images/406.jpg" alt="The Copley Family Picture." />
+<p class="caption">The Copley Family Picture.
+</p></div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Wedding_Slippers_and_Brocade._1712."></a>
+<img src="images/407.jpg" alt="Wedding Slippers and Brocade. 1712." />
+<p class="caption">Wedding Slippers and Brocade. 1712.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Buskins to the knee were worn even by royalty; Queen Elizabeth’s still exist.
+Buskins were in wear when the colonies were settled. Richard Sawyer, of
+Windsor, Connecticut, had cloth buskins in 1648; and a hundred years later
+runaway servants wore them. One redemptioner is described as running off in
+“sliders and buskins.” American buskins were a foot-covering consisting of a
+strong leather sole with cloth uppers and leggins to the knees, which were
+fastened with lacings. Startups were similar, but heavier. In Thynne’s
+<i>Debate between Pride and Lowliness</i>, the dress of a countryman is
+described. It runs thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“A payre of startups had he on his feete<br/>
+   That lased were up to the small of the legge.<br/>
+ Homelie they are, and easier than meete;<br/>
+   And in their soles full many a wooden pegge.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Thomas Johnson of Wethersfield, Connecticut, died in 1840. He owned “1 Perre of
+Startups.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Slippers were worn even in the fifteenth century. In the <i>Paston Letters</i>,
+in a letter dated February 23, 1479, is this sentence, “In the whych lettre was
+VIII d with the whych I shulde bye a peyr of slyppers.” Even for those days
+eightpence must have been a small price for slippers. In 1686, Judge Samuel
+Sewall wrote to a member of the Hall family thanking him for “The Kind Loving
+Token—the East Indian Slippers for my wife.” Other colonial letters refer to
+Oriental slippers; and I am sure that Turkish slippers are worn by Lady Temple
+in her childish portrait, painted in company with her brother. Slip-shoes were
+evidently slippers—the word is used by Sewall; and slap-shoes are named by
+Randle Holme. Pantofles were also slippers, being apparently rather handsomer
+footwear than ordinary slippers or slip-shoes. They are in general specified as
+embroidered. Evelyn tells of the fine pantofles of the Pope embroidered with
+jewels on the instep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So great was the use and abuse of leather that a petition was made to
+Parliament in 1629 to attempt to restrict the making of great boots. One
+sentence runs:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The wearing of Boots is not the Abuse; but the generality of wearing and the
+manner of cutting Boots out with huge slovenly unmannerly immoderate tops. What
+over lavish spending is there in Boots and Shoes. To either of which is now
+added a French proud Superfluity of Leather.<br/>
+<br/>
+“For the general Walking in Boots it is a Pride taken up by the Courtier and is
+descended to the Clown. The Merchant and Mechanic walk in Boots. Many of our
+Clergy either in neat Boots or Shoes and Galloshoes. University Scholars
+maintain the Fashion likewise. Some Citizens out of a Scorn not to be Gentile
+go every day booted. Attorneys, Lawyers, Clerks, Serving Men, All Sorts of Men
+delight in this Wasteful Wantonness.<br/>
+<br/>
+“Wasteful I may well call it. One pair of boots eats up the leather of six
+reasonable pair of men’s shoes.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Jack-boots._Owned_by_Lord_Fairfax_of_Virginia."></a>
+<img src="images/409.jpg" alt="Jack-boots. Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia."
+/>
+<p class="caption">Jack-boots. Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Monstrous boots seem to have been the one frivolity in dress which the Puritans
+could not give up. In the reign of Charles I boots were superb. The tops were
+flaring, lined within with lace or embroidered or fringed; thus when turned
+down they were richly ornamental. Fringes of leather, silk, or cloth edged some
+boot-tops on the outside; the leather itself was carved and gilded. The
+soldiers and officers of Cromwell’s army sometimes gave up laces and fringes,
+but not the boot-tops. The Earl of Essex, his general, had cloth fringes on his
+boots. (See his portrait facing <a href="#ROBERT_DEVEREUX">here</a>; also the
+portrait of Lord Fairfax <a
+href="#TherightHonourableFerdinandLordFairfax">here</a>.) In the court of
+Charles II and Louis XIV of France the boot-tops spread to absurd
+inconvenience. The toes of these boots were very square, as were the toes of
+men’s and women’s shoes. Children’s shoes were of similar form. The singular
+shoes worn by John Quincy and Robert Gibbes are precisely right-angled. It was
+a sneer at the Puritans that they wore pointed toes. The shoe-ties, roses, and
+buckles varied; but the square toes lingered, though they were singularly
+inelegant. On the feet of George I (see portrait <a href="#George_I.">here</a>)
+the square-toed shoes are ugly indeed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+James I scornfully repelled shoe-roses when brought to him for his wear; asking
+if they wished to “make a ruffle-footed dove” of him. But soon he wore the
+largest rosettes in court. Peacham tells that some cost as much as &pound;;30 a
+pair, being then, of course, of rare lace.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Joshua_Warner."></a>
+<img src="images/411.jpg" alt="Joshua Warner." />
+<p class="caption">Joshua Warner.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+<i>Friar Bacon’s Brazen Head Prophecie</i>, set into a “Plaie” or Rhyme, has
+these verses (1604):
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Then Handkerchers were wrought<br/>
+    With Names and true Love Knots;<br/>
+And not a wench was taught<br/>
+    A false Stitch in her spots;<br/>
+When Roses in the Gardaines grew<br/>
+And not in Ribons on a Shoe.<br/>
+<br/>
+“<i>Now</i> Sempsters few are taught<br/>
+    The true Stitch in their Spots;<br/>
+And Names are sildome wrought<br/>
+    Within the true love knots;<br/>
+And Ribon Roses takes such Place<br/>
+That Garden Roses want their Grace.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Shoes of buff leather, slashed, were the very height of the fashion in the
+first years of the seventeenth century. They can be seen on the feet of Will
+Sommers in his portrait. Through the slashes showed bright the scarlet or green
+stockings of cloth or yarn. Bright-colored shoe-strings gave additional
+gaudiness. Green shoe-strings, spangled, gilded shoe-strings, shoes of
+“dry-neat-leather tied with red ribbons,” “russet boots,” “white silken shoe
+strings,”—all were worn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Red heels appear about 1710. In Hogarth’s original paintings they are seen.
+Women wore them extensively in America.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The jack-boots of Stuart days seem absolutely imperishable. They are of black,
+jacked leather like the leather bottles and black-jacks from which Englishmen
+drank their ale. So closely are they alike that I do not wonder a French
+traveller wrote home that Englishmen drank from their boots. These jack-boots
+were as solid and unpliable as iron, square-toed and clumsy of shape. A pair in
+perfect preservation which belonged to Lord Fairfax in Virginia is portrayed <a
+href="#Jack-boots._Owned_by_Lord_Fairfax_of_Virginia.">here</a>. Had all
+colonial gentlemen worn jack-boots, the bootmakers and shoemakers would have
+been ruined, for a pair would last a lifetime.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Shoe_and_Knee_Buckles."></a>
+<img src="images/413.jpg" alt="Shoe and Knee Buckles." />
+<p class="caption">Shoe and Knee Buckles.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In 1767 we find William Cabell of Virginia paying these prices for his finery:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound;</td><td>s.</td><td>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pair single channelled boots with straps</td><td> 1</td><td> 2</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pair Strong Buckskin Breeches</td><td>1</td><td> 10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>2 Pairs Fashionable Chain Silver Spurs </td><td> 2</td><td> 10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pair Silver Buttons </td><td></td><td> 6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 fine Magazine Blue Cloth Housing laced</td><td></td><td>12</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Strong Double Bridle</td><td></td><td>4</td><td> 6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>6 Pair Men’s fine Silk Hose</td><td> 4 </td><td> 4</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Buttons &amp;; trimmings for a coat</td><td> 5</td><td> 2</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+New England dandies wore, as did Monsieur A-la-mode:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  “A pair of smart pumps made up of grain’d leather,<br/>
+   So thin he can’t venture to tread on a feather.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Buckles were made of pinchbeck, an alloy of four parts of copper and one part
+of zinc, invented by Christopher Pinchbeck, a London watchmaker of the
+eighteenth century. Buckles were also “plaited” and double “plaited” with gold
+and silver (which was the general spelling of plated). Plated buckles were cast
+in pinchbeck, with a pattern on the surface. A silver coating was laid over
+this. These buckles were set with marcasite, garnet, and paste jewels;
+sometimes they were of gold with real diamonds. But much imitation jewellery
+was worn by all people even of great wealth. Perhaps imitation is an incorrect
+word. The old paste jewels made no assertion of being diamonds. Steel cut in
+facets and combined with gold, made beautiful buckles. A number of rich shoe
+and garter buckles, owned in Salem, are shown <a
+href="#Shoe_and_Knee_Buckles.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These old buckles were handsome, costly, dignified; they were becoming; they
+were elegant. Nevertheless, the fashionable world tired of its expensive and
+appropriate buckles; they suddenly were deemed inconveniently large, and plain
+shoe-strings took their place. This caused great commotion and ruin among the
+buckle-makers, who, with the fatuity of other tradespeople—the wig-makers, the
+hair-powder makers—in like calamitous changes of fashion, petitioned the Prince
+of Wales, in 1791, to do something to revive their vanishing trade. But it was
+like placing King Canute against the advancing waves of the sea.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Wedding_Slippers."></a>
+<img src="images/415.jpg" alt="Wedding Slippers." />
+<p class="caption">Wedding Slippers.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+When the Revolutionists in France set about altering and simplifying costume,
+they did away with shoe-buckles, and fastened their shoes with plain strings.
+Minister Roland, one day in 1793, was about to present himself to Louis XVI
+while he was wearing shoes with strings. The old Master of Ceremonies,
+scandalized at having to introduce a person in such a state of undress, looked
+despairingly at Dumouriez, who was present. Dumouriez replied with an equally
+hopeless gesture, and the words, “Hélas! oui, monsieur, tout est perdu.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+President Jefferson, with his hateful French notions, made himself especially
+obnoxious to conservative American folk by giving up shoe-buckles. I read in
+the <i>New York Evening Post</i> that when he received the noisy bawling band
+of admirers who brought into the White House the Mammoth Cheese (one of the
+most vulgar exhibitions ever seen in this country), he was “dressed in his suit
+of customary black, with shoes that laced tight round the ankle and closed with
+a neat leathern string.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When shoe-strings were established and trousers were becoming popular, there
+seemed to be a time of indecision as to the dress of the legs below the short
+pantaloons and above the stringed shoes. That point of indefiniteness was
+filled promptly with top-boots. First, black tops appeared; then came tops of
+fancy leather, of which yellow was the favorite. Gilt tassels swung pleasingly
+from the colored tops. Silken tassels—home made—were worn. I have a letter from
+a young American macaroni to his sweetheart in which he thanks her for her
+“heart-filling boot-tossels”—which seems to me a very cleverly flattering
+adjective. He adds: “Did those rosy fingers twist the silken strands, and knot
+them with thought of the wearer? I wish you was loveing enough to tye some
+threads of your golden hair into the tossells, but I swear I cannot find never
+a one.” The conjunction of two negatives in this manner was common usage a
+hundred years ago; while “you was” may be found in the writings of our greatest
+authors of that date.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In one attribute, women’s footwear never varied in the two centuries of this
+book’s recording. It was always thin-soled and of light material; never
+adequate for much “walking abroad” or for any wet weather. In fact, women have
+never worn heavy walking-boots until our own day. Whether high-heeled or
+no-heeled they were always thin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The curious “needle-pointed” slippers which are pictured <a
+href="#Wedding_Slippers_and_Brocade._1712.">here</a> were the bridal slippers
+at the wedding of Cornelia de Peyster, who married Oliver Teller in 1712.
+Several articles of her dress still exist; and the background of the slippers
+is a breadth of the superb yellow and silver brocade wedding gown worn at the
+same time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When we have the tiny pages of the few newspapers to turn to, we learn a little
+of women’s shoes. There were advertisements in 1740 of “mourning shoes,” “fine
+silk shoes,” “flowered russet shoes,” “white callimanco shoes,” “black shammy
+shoes,” “girls’ flowered russet shoes,” “shoes of black velvet, white damask,
+red morocco, and red everlasting.” “Damask worsted shoes in red, blue, green,
+pink color and white,” in 1751. There were satinet patterns for ladies’ shoes
+embroidered with flowers in the vamp. The heels were “high, cross-cut, common,
+court, and wurtemburgh.” Some shoes were white with russet bands. “French fall”
+shoes were worn both by women and men for many years.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._Abigail_Bromfield_Rogers."></a>
+<img src="images/418.jpg" alt="Mrs. Abigail Bromfield Rogers." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Abigail Bromfield Rogers.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Wedding_Slippers.">Here</a> is a pair of beautiful brocade wedding
+shoes. The heels are not high. Another pair was made of the silken stuff of the
+beautiful sacque worn by Mrs. Carroll. These have high heels running down to a
+very small heel-base. In the works of Hogarth we may find many examples of
+women’s shoes. In all the old shoes I have seen, made about the time of the
+American Revolution, the maker’s name is within and this legend, “Rips mended
+free.” Many heels were much higher and smaller than any given in this book.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="MrsCarrollsSlippers"></a>
+<img src="images/419.jpg" alt="Mrs. Carroll’s Slippers." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Carroll’s Slippers.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It is astonishing to read the advocacy and eulogy given by sensible gentlemen
+to these extreme heels. Watson, the writer of the <i>Annals of
+Philadelphia</i>, extolled their virtues—that they threw the weight of the
+wearer on the ball of the foot and spread it out for a good support. He
+deplores the flat feet of 1830.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1790 heels disappeared; sandal-shapes were the mode. The quarters were made
+low, and instead of a buckle was a tiny bow or a pleated ribbon edging. In 1791
+“the exact size” of the shoe of the Duchess of York was published—a fashionable
+fad which our modern sensation hunters have not bethought themselves of. It was
+5 3/4 inches in length; the breadth of sole, 1 3/4 inches. It was a colored
+print, and shows that the lady’s shoe was of green silk spotted with gold
+stars, and bound with scarlet silk. The sole is thicker at the back, forming a
+slight uplift which was not strictly a heel. Of course, this was a tiny foot,
+but we do not know the height of the duchess.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have seen the remains of a charming pair of court shoes worn in France by a
+pretty Boston girl. These had been embroidered with paste jewels, “diamonds”;
+while to my surprise the back seam of both shoes was outlined with paste
+emeralds. I find that this was the mode of the court of Marie Antoinette. The
+queen and her ladies wore these in real jewels, and in affectation wore no
+jewels elsewhere.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In Mrs. Gaskell’s <i>My Lady Ludlow</i> we are told that my lady would not
+sanction the mode of the beginning of the century which “made all the fine
+ladies take to making shoes.” Mrs. Blundell, in one of her novels, sets her
+heroine (about 1805) at shoe-making. The shoes of that day were very thin of
+material, very simple of shape, were heelless, and in many cases closely
+approached a sandal. A pair worn by my great-aunt at that date is shown on this
+page. American women certainly had tiny feet. This aunt was above the average
+height, but her shoes are no larger than the number known to-day as “Ones”—a
+size about large enough for a girl ten years old.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="White_Kid_Slippers._1815."></a>
+<img src="images/421.jpg" alt="White Kid Slippers. 1815." />
+<p class="caption">White Kid Slippers. 1815.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It was not long after English girls were making shoes that Yankee girls were
+shaping and binding them in New England. I have seen several old letters which
+gave rules for shaping and directions for sewing party-shoes of thin light kid
+and silk. It is not probable that any heavy materials were ever made up by
+women at home. Sandals also were worn, and made by girls for their own wear
+from bits of morocco and kid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the early years of the century the thin, silk hose and low slippers of the
+French fashions proved almost unendurable in our northern winters. One wearer
+of the time writes, “Many a time have I walked Broadway when the pavement sent
+almost a death chill to my heart.” The Indians then furnished an article of
+dress which must have been grateful indeed, pretty moccasins edged with fur, to
+be worn over the thin slippers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An old lady recalled with precision that the first boots for women’s wear came
+in fashion in 1828; they were laced at the side. Garters and boots both had
+fringes at the top.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10115 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #10115 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10115)
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Two Centuries of Costume in America, Vol. 1 (1620-1820), by Alice Morse Earle
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: Two Centuries of Costume in America
+       Vol. 1 (1620-1820)
+
+Author: Alice Morse Earle
+
+Release Date: November 17, 2003 [eBook #10115]
+[Most recently updated: April 8, 2023]
+
+Language: English
+
+Produced by: Charles Aldarondo, Keren Vergon, Susan Skinner, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CENTURIES OF COSTUME IN AMERICA, VOL. 1 (1620-1820)  ***
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+TWO CENTURIES OF COSTUME IN AMERICA
+MDCXX-MDCCCXX
+
+
+ALICE MORSE EARLE
+
+AUTHOR OF “SUN-DIALS AND ROSES OF YESTERDAY” “OLD TIME GARDENS,” ETC.
+
+
+VOLUME I
+
+Nineteen Hundred and Three
+
+
+
+
+Madam Padishal and Child Madam Padishal and Child.
+
+
+
+
+_To George P. Brett_
+
+
+_“An honest Stationer (or Publisher) is he, that exercizeth his Mystery
+(whether it be in printing, bynding or selling of Bookes) with more
+respect to the glory of God & the publike aduantage than to his owne
+Commodity & is both an ornament & a profitable member in a ciuill
+Commonwealth.... If he be a Printer he makes conscience to exemplefy
+his Coppy fayrely & truly. If he be a Booke-bynder, he is no meere
+Bookeseller (that is) one who selleth meerely ynck & paper bundled up
+together for his owne aduantage only: but he is a Chapman of Arts, of
+wisdome, & of much experience for a little money.... The reputation of
+Schollers is as deare unto him as his owne: For, he acknowledgeth that
+from them his Mystery had both begining and means of continuance. He
+heartely loues & seekes the Prosperity of his owne Corporation: Yet he
+would not iniure the Uniuersityes to advantage it. In a word, he is
+such a man that the State ought to cherish him; Schollers to loue him;
+good Customers to frequent his shopp; and the whole Company of
+Stationers to pray for him.”_
+
+—GEORGE WITHER, 1625.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+VOL. I
+
+I. APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS
+
+II. DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS
+
+III. ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS
+
+IV. A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER
+
+V. THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS
+
+VI. RUFFS AND BANDS
+
+VII. CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS
+
+VIII. THE VENERABLE HOOD
+
+IX. CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS
+
+X. THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN
+
+XI. PERUKES AND PERIWIGS
+
+XII. THE BEARD
+
+XIII. PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES
+
+XIV. BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOLUME I
+
+
+MADAM PADISHAL AND CHILD
+
+_Frontispiece_
+
+This fine presentation of the dress of a gentlewoman and infant child,
+in the middle of the seventeenth century, hung in old Plymouth homes in
+the Thomas and Stevenson families till it came by inheritance to the
+present owner, Mrs. Greely Stevenson Curtis of Boston, Mass. The artist
+is unknown.
+
+JOHN ENDICOTT
+
+Born in Dorchester, Eng., 1589. Died in Boston, Mass., 1665. He
+emigrated to America in 1628; became governor of the colony in 1644,
+and was major-general of the colonial troops. He hated Indians, the
+Church of Rome, and Quakers. He wears a velvet skull-cap, and a
+finger-ring, which is somewhat unusual; a square band; a richly fringed
+and embroidered glove; and a “stiletto” beard. This portrait is in the
+Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+EDWARD WINSLOW
+
+Born in England, 1595; died at sea, 1655. One of the founders of the
+Plymouth colony in 1620; and governor of that colony in 1633, 1636,
+1644. This portrait is dated 1651. It is in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth,
+Mass.
+
+JOHN WINTHROP
+
+Born in England, 1588; died in Boston, 1649. Educated at Trinity
+College, Cambridge; admitted to the Inner Temple, 1628. Made governor
+of Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1629. Arrived in Salem, 1630. His
+portrait by Van Dyck and a fine miniature exist. The latter is owned by
+American Antiquarian Society, Worcester, Mass. This picture is copied
+from a very rare engraving from the miniature, which is finer and even
+more thoughtful in expression than the portrait. Both have the
+lace-edged ruff, but the shape of the dress is indistinct.
+
+SIMON BRADSTREET
+
+Born in England, 1603; died in Salem, Mass., 1697. He was governor of
+the colony when he was ninety years old. The Labadists, who visited
+him, wrote: “He is an old man, quiet and grave; dressed in black silk,
+but not sumptuously.”
+
+SIR RICHARD SALTONSTALL
+
+A mayor of London who came to Salem among the first settlers. The New
+England families of his name are all descended from him. He wears
+buff-coat and trooping scarf. This portrait was painted by Rembrandt.
+
+SIR WALTER RALEIGH
+
+Born in Devonshire, Eng., 1552; executed in London, 1618. A courtier,
+poet, historian, nobleman, soldier, explorer, and colonizer. He was the
+favorite of Elizabeth; the colonizer of Virginia; the hero of the
+Armada; the victim of King James. In this portrait he wears a slashed
+jerkin; a lace ruff; a broad trooping scarf with great lace
+shoulder-knot; a jewelled sword-belt; full, embroidered breeches;
+lace-edged garters, and vast shoe-roses, which combine to form a
+confused dress.
+
+SIR WALTER RALEIGH AND SON
+
+This print was owned by the author for many years, with the written
+endorsement by some unknown hand, _Martin Frobisher and Son_. I am glad
+to learn that it is from a painting by Zucchero of Raleigh and his son,
+and is owned at Wickham Court, in Kent, Eng., by the descendant of one
+of Raleigh’s companions in his explorations. The child’s dress is less
+fantastic than other portraits of English children of the same date.
+
+ROBERT DEVEREUX, EARL OF ESSEX
+
+From an old print. A general of Cromwell’s army.
+
+OLIVER CROMWELL DISSOLVING PARLIAMENT
+
+From an old Dutch print.
+
+SIR WILLIAM WALLER
+
+A general in Cromwell’s army. Born, 1597; died, 1668. He served in the
+Thirty Years’ War. This portrait is in the National Portrait Gallery.
+
+LORD FAIRFAX
+
+A general in Cromwell’s army. From an old print.
+
+ALDERMAN ABELL AND RICHARD KILVERT
+
+From an old print.
+
+REV. JOHN COTTON, D.D.
+
+Born in Derby, Eng., 1585; died at Boston, Mass., in 1652. A Puritan
+clergyman who settled in Boston in 1633. He drew up for the colonists,
+at the request of the General Court, an abstract of the laws of Moses
+entitled _Moses His Judicials_, which was of greatest influence in the
+formation of the laws of the colony. This portrait is owned by Robert
+C. Winthrop, Esq.
+
+REV. COTTON MATHER, D.D.
+
+Born in Boston, Mass., 1683; died in Boston, Mass., 1728. A clergyman,
+author, and scholar. His book, _Magnalia Christi Americana_, an
+ecclesiastical history of New England, is of much value, though most
+trying. He took an active and now much-abhorred part in the Salem
+witchcraft. This portrait is owned by the American Antiquarian Society,
+Worcester, Mass.
+
+SLASHED SLEEVES
+
+From portraits _temp_. Charles I. The first is from a Van Dyck portrait
+of the Earl of Stanhope, and has a rich, lace-edged cuff. The second,
+with a graceful lawn undersleeve, is from a Van Dyck of Lucius Gary,
+Viscount Falkland. The third is from a painting by Mytens of the Duke
+of Hamilton. The fourth, by Van Dyck, is from one of Lord Villiers,
+Viscount Grandison.
+
+MRS. KATHERINE CLARK
+
+Born, 1602; died, 1671. An English gentlewoman renowned in her day for
+her piety and charity.
+
+LADY MARY ARMINE
+
+An English lady of great piety, whose gifts to Christianize the Indians
+make her name appear in the early history of Massachusetts. Her black
+domino and frontlet are of interest. This portrait was painted about
+1650.
+
+THE TUB-PREACHER
+
+An old print of a Quaker meeting. Probably by Marcel Lawson.
+
+VENICE POINT LACE
+
+Owned by Mrs. Robert Fulton Crary of Poughkeepsie, N.Y.
+
+REBECCA RAWSON
+
+The daughter of Edward Rawson, Secretary of State. Born in Boston in
+1656; married in 1679 to an adventurer, Thomas Rumsey, who called
+himself Sir Thomas Hale. She died at sea, in 1692. This portrait is
+owned by New England Historic Genealogical Society.
+
+ELIZABETH PADDY
+
+Born in Plymouth, Mass., in 1641. Daughter of William Paddy; she
+married John Wensley of Plymouth. Their daughter Sarah married Dr.
+Isaac Winslow. This portrait is in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.
+
+MRS. SIMEON STODDARD
+
+A wealthy Boston gentlewoman. This portrait was painted in the latter
+half of the seventeenth century. It is owned by the Massachusetts
+Historical Society.
+
+ANCIENT BLACK LACE
+
+Owned by Mrs. Robert Fulton Crary, Poughkeepsie, N.Y.
+
+VIRAGO-SLEEVE
+
+From a French portrait.
+
+NINON DE L’ENCLOS
+
+Born in Paris, 1615; died in 1705. Her dress has a slashed
+virago-sleeve and lace whisk.
+
+LADY CATHERINE HOWARD
+
+Grandchild of the Earl of Arundel. Aged thirteen years. Drawn in 1646
+by W. Hollar.
+
+COSTUMES OF ENGLISHWOMEN OF SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
+
+Plates from _Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus, or Several Habits of
+Englishwomen_, 1640. By Wenceslaus Hollar, an engraver of much note and
+much performance; born at Prague, 1607; died in England, 1677. This
+book contains twenty-six plates illustrating women’s dress in all ranks
+of life with absolute fidelity.
+
+GERTRUDE SCHUYLER LIVINGSTONE
+
+Second wife and widow of Robert Livingstone. The curiously plaited
+widow’s cap can be seen under her hood.
+
+MRS. MAGDALEN BEEKMAN
+
+Died in New York in 1730. Widow of Gerardus Beekman, who died in 1723.
+
+LADY ANNE CLIFFORD
+
+Born, 1590. Daughter of George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland. Painted in
+1603.
+
+LADY HERRMAN
+
+Of Bohemia Manor, Maryland. Wife of a pioneer settler. From _Some
+Colonial Mansions_. Published by Henry T. Coates & Co.
+
+ELIZABETH CROMWELL
+
+Mother of Oliver Cromwell. She died at Whitehall in 1654, aged 90
+years. This portrait is at Hinchinbrook, and is owned by the Earl of
+Sandwich. It was painted by Robert Walker. Her dress is described as “a
+green velvet cardinal, trimmed with gold lace.” Her hood is white
+satin.
+
+POCAHONTAS
+
+Daughter of Powhatan, and wife of Mr. Thomas Rolfe. Born 1593; died
+1619; aged twenty-one when this was painted. The portrait is owned by a
+member of the Rolfe family.
+
+DUCHESS OF BUCKINGHAM AND CHILDREN
+
+Painted in 1626 by Gerard Honthorst. In the original the Duke of
+Buckingham is also upon the canvas. He was George Villiers, the
+“Steenie” of James I, who was assassinated by John Felton. The duchess
+was the daughter of the Earl of Rutland. The little daughter was
+afterwards Duchess of Richmond and Lenox. The baby was George, the
+second Duke of Buckingham, poet, politician, courtier, the friend of
+Charles II. The picture is now in the National Portrait Gallery.
+
+A WOMAN’S DOUBLET
+
+Worn by the infamous Mrs. Anne Turner.
+
+A PURITAN DAME
+
+Plate from _Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus_.
+
+PENELOPE WINSLOW
+
+Painted in 1651. Dress dull olive; mantle bright red; pearl necklace,
+ear-rings and pearl bandeau in hair. The hair is curled as the hair in
+portraits of Queen Henrietta Maria. In Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.
+
+GOLD-FRINGED GLOVES OF GOVERNOR LEVERETT
+
+In Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+EMBROIDERED PETTICOAT-BAND, 1750
+
+Bright-colored crewels on linen. Owned by the Misses Manning of Salem,
+Mass.
+
+BLUE DAMASK GOWN AND QUILTED SATIN PETTICOAT
+
+These were owned by Mrs. James Lovell, who was born 1735; died, 1817.
+Through her only daughter, Mrs. Pickard, who died in 1812, they came to
+her only child, Mary Pickard (Mrs. Henry Ware, Jr.), whose heirs now
+own them. They are in the keeping of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
+
+A PLAIN JERKIN
+
+This portrait is of Martin Frobisher, hero of the Armada; explorer in
+1576, 1577, and 1578 for the Northwestern Passage, and discoverer of
+Frobisher’s Bay. He died in 1594.
+
+CLOTH DOUBLET
+
+This portrait is of Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire. Owned by the
+Duke of Bedford. It shows a plain cloth doublet with double row of
+turreted welts at the shoulder. Horace Walpole says of this portrait,
+“He is quite in the style of Queen Elizabeth’s lovers; red-bearded, and
+not comely.”
+
+JAMES, DUKE OF YORK
+
+Born, 1633. Afterwards James II of England. This scene in a
+tennis-court was painted about 1643.
+
+EMBROIDERED JERKIN
+
+This portrait is of George Carew, Earl of Totnes. It was painted by
+Zucchero, and is owned by the Earl of Verulam. He wears a rich jerkin
+with four laps on each side below the belt; it is embroidered in
+sprigs, and guarded on the seams. The sleeves are detached. He wears
+also a rich sword-belt and ruff.
+
+JOHN LILBURNE
+
+Born in Greenwich, Eng., in 1614; died in 1659. A Puritan soldier,
+politician, and pamphleteer. He was fined, whipped, pilloried, tried
+for treason, sedition, controversy, libel. He was imprisoned in the
+Tower, Newgate, Tyburn, and the Castle. He was a Puritan till he turned
+Quaker. His sprawling boots, dangling knee-points, and silly little
+short doublet form a foolish dress.
+
+COLONEL WILLIAM LEGGE
+
+Born in 1609. Died in 1672. He was a stanch Royalist. His portrait is
+by Jacob Huysmans, and is in the National Portrait Gallery.
+
+SIR THOMAS ORCHARD KNIGHT, 1646
+
+From an old print indorsed “S Glover ad vivum delineavit 1646.” He is
+in characteristic court-dress, with slashed sleeves, laced cloak, laced
+garters, and shoe-roses. His hair and beard are like those of Charles
+II.
+
+THE ENGLISH ANTICK
+
+From a broadside of 1646.
+
+GEORGE I OF ENGLAND
+
+Born in Hanover, 1660. Died in Hanover, 1727. Crowned King of England
+in 1714. This portrait is by Sir Godfrey Kneller, and is in the
+National Portrait Gallery. It is remarkable for its ribbons and curious
+shoes.
+
+THREE CASSOCK SLEEVES AND A BUFF-COAT SLEEVE
+
+_Temp_. Charles I. The first sleeve is from a portrait of Lord Bedford.
+The second, with shoulder-knot of ribbon, was worn by Algernon Sidney;
+the third is from a Van Dyck portrait of Viscount Grandison; the
+fourth, the sleeve of a curiously slashed buff-coat worn by Sir Philip
+Sidney.
+
+HENRY BENNET, EARL OF ARLINGTON
+
+Born, 1618; died, 1685. From the original by Sir Peter Lely. This is
+asserted to be the costume chosen by Charles II in 1661 “to wear
+forever.”
+
+FIGURES FROM FUNERAL PROCESSION OF THE DUKE OF ALBEMARLE IN 1670
+
+These drawings of “Gentlemen,” “Earls,” “Clergymen,” “Physicians,” and
+“Poor Men” are by F. Sanford, Lancaster Herald, and are from his
+engraving of the Funeral Procession of George Monk, Duke of Albemarle.
+
+EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, HENRY WRIOTHESLEY.
+
+Born, 1573. Died in The Netherlands in 1624. He was the friend of
+Shakespere, and governor of the Virginia Company. This portrait is by
+Mierevelt.
+
+A BOWDOIN PORTRAIT
+
+This fine portrait is by a master’s hand. The name of the subject is
+unknown. The initials would indicate that he was a Bowdoin, or a
+Baudouine, which was the name of the original emigrant. It has been
+owned by the Bowdoin family until it was presented to Bowdoin College,
+Brunswick, Me., where it now hangs in the Walker Art Building.
+
+WILLIAM PYNCHEON
+
+Born, 1590; died, 1670. This portrait was painted in 1657. It is in an
+unusual dress, with the only double row of buttons I have seen on a
+portrait of that date. It also shows no hair under the close cap.
+
+JONATHAN EDWARDS, D.D.
+
+Born, Windsor, Conn., 1703. Died, Princeton, N.J., 1758. A theologian,
+metaphysician, missionary, author, and president of Princeton
+University.
+
+GEORGE CURWEN
+
+Born in England, 1610; died in Salem, 1685. He came to Salem in 1638,
+where he was the most prominent merchant, and commanded a troop of
+horse, whereby he acquired his title of Captain. He is in military
+dress. Portrait owned by Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+WALKING-STICK AND LACE FRILL, 1660
+
+These articles are in the Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+WILLIAM CODDINGTON
+
+Born in Leicestershire, Eng., 1601; died in Rhode Island, 1678. One of
+the founders of the Rhode Island Colony, and governor for many years.
+
+THOMAS FAYERWEATHER
+
+Born, 1692; died, 1733, in Boston. Married, in 1718, Hannah Waldo,
+sister of Brigadier-general Samuel Waldo. This portrait is by Smybcrt.
+It is owned by his descendants, Miss Elizabeth L. Bond and Miss
+Catherine Harris Bond, of Cambridge, Mass.
+
+“KING” CARTER IN YOUTH
+
+CITY FLAT-CAP
+
+Worn by “Bilious” Bale, who died in 1563. His square beard, coif, and
+citizen’s flat-cap were worn by Englishmen till 1620.
+
+KING JAMES I OF ENGLAND
+
+This portrait was painted before he was king of England. It is now in
+the National Portrait Gallery.
+
+FULKE GREVILLE, LORD BROOKE
+
+In doublet, with curious slashed tabs or bands at the waist, forming a
+roll like a woman’s farthingale. The hat, with jewelled hat-band, is of
+a singular and ugly shape.
+
+JAMES DOUGLAS, EARL OF MORTON
+
+His hat, band, and jerkin are unusual.
+
+ELIHU YALE
+
+Born in Boston, Mass., in 1648. Died in England in 1721. He founded
+Yale College, now Yale University. This portrait is owned by Yale
+University, New Haven, Conn.
+
+THOMAS CECIL, FIRST EARL OF EXETER
+
+Died in 1621.
+
+CORNELIUS STEINWYCK
+
+The wealthiest merchant of New Amsterdam in the seventeenth century.
+This portrait is owned by the New York Historical Society.
+
+HAT WITH GLOVE AS A FAVOR
+
+From portrait of George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland. He died in 1605.
+
+GULIELMA SPRINGETT PENN
+
+First wife of William Penn. Born, 1644; died, 1694. The original
+painting is on glass. Owned by the heirs of Henry Swan, Dorking, Eng.
+
+HANNAH CALLOWHILL PENN
+
+Second wife of William Penn; from a portrait now in Blackwell Hall,
+County Durham, Eng.
+
+MADAME DE MIRAMION
+
+Born, 1629; died in Paris, 1696.
+
+THE STRAWBERRY GIRL
+
+From Tempest’s _Cries of London_.
+
+OPERA HOOD, OR CARDINAL, OF BLACK SILK
+
+It is now in Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
+
+QUILTED HOOD
+
+Owned by Miss Mary Atkinson of Doylestown, Pa.
+
+PINK SILK HOOD
+
+Owned by Miss Alice Browne of Salem, Mass.
+
+PUG HOOD
+
+Owned by Miss Alice Browne of Salem, Mass.
+
+SCARLET CLOAK
+
+This fine broadcloth cloak and hood were worn by Judge Curwen. They are
+in perfect preservation, owing, in later years, to the excellent care
+given them by their present owner, Miss Bessie Curwen, of Salem, Mass.,
+a descendant of the original owner.
+
+JUDGE STOUGHTON
+
+WOMAN’S CLOAK
+
+From Hogarth.
+
+A CAPUCHIN
+
+From Hogarth.
+
+LADY CAROLINE MONTAGU
+
+Daughter of Duke of Buccleuch. Painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds in 1776.
+
+JOHN QUINCY
+
+Born, 1686. This portrait is owned by Brooks Adams, Esq., Boston, Mass.
+
+Miss CAMPION
+
+From Andrew W. Tuer’s _History of the Hornbook_. This portrait has hung
+for two centuries in an Essex manor-house. Its date, 1661, is but nine
+years earlier than the portraits of the Gibbes children, and the dress
+is the same. The cavalier hat and cuffs are the only varying detail.
+
+INFANT’S CAP
+
+Tambour work, 1790.
+
+ELEANOR FOSTER
+
+Born, 1746. She married Dr. Nathaniel Coffin, of Portland, Me., and
+became the mother of the beautiful Martha, who married Richard C.
+Derby. This portrait was painted in 1755. It is owned by Mrs. Greely
+Stevenson Curtis of Boston, Mass.
+
+WILLIAM, PRINCE OF ORANGE
+
+From an old print.
+
+MRS. THEODORE S. SEDGWICK AND DAUGHTER.
+
+Mrs. Sedgwick was Pamela Dwight. This portrait was painted by Ralph
+Earle, and exhibits one of his peculiarities. The home of the subject
+of the portrait is shown through an open window, though the immediate
+surroundings are a room within the house. The child is Catherine M.
+Sedgwick, the poet. This painting is owned in Stockbridge by members of
+the family.
+
+INFANT CHILD OF FRANCIS HOPKINSON, THE SIGNER
+
+A drawing in crayon by the child’s father. The child carries a coral
+and bells.
+
+MARY SETON
+
+1763. Died in 1800, aged forty. Married John Wilkes of New York. White
+frock and blue scarf.
+
+THE BOWDOIN CHILDREN
+
+Lady Temple and Governor James Bowdoin in childhood. The artist of this
+pleasing portrait is unknown. I think it was painted by Blackburn. It
+is now in the Walker Art Gallery, at Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Me.
+
+Miss LYDIA ROBINSON
+
+Aged twelve years, daughter of Colonel James Robinson, Salem, Mass.
+Painted by M. Corné in 1808. Owned by the Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+KNITTED FLAXEN MITTENS
+
+These are knitted upon finest wire needles, of linen thread, which had
+been spun, and the flax raised and prepared by the knitter.
+
+MRS. ELIZABETH (LUX) RUSSELL AND DAUGHTER.
+
+CHRISTENING SHIRT AND MITTS OF GOVERNOR BRADFORD.
+
+White linen with pinched sleeves and chaney ruffles and fingertips.
+Owned by Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+FLANDERS LACE MITTS
+
+These infant’s mitts were worn in the sixteenth century, and came to
+Salem with the first emigrants. Owned by Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+INFANT’S ADJUSTABLE CAP
+
+This has curious shirring-strings to make it fit heads of various
+sizes. It is home spun and woven, and the lace edging is home knit.
+
+REV. JOHN P. DABNEY, WHEN A CHILD IN 1806
+
+This portrait of a Salem minister in childhood is in jacket and
+trousers, with openwork collar and ruffles. It is now owned by the
+Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+
+ROBERT GIBBES
+
+Born, 1665. This portrait is dated 1670. It is owned by Miss Sarah B.
+Hager of Kendal Green, Mass.
+
+NANKEEN BREECHES, WITH SILVER BUTTONS. 1790
+
+RALPH IZARD, WHEN A LITTLE BOY
+
+Born in Charleston, S. C., 1742; died in 1804. Painted in 1750. He was
+United States Senator 1789-1795. This debonair little figure in blue
+velvet, silk-embroidered waistcoat, silken hose, buckled shoes, and
+black hat, gold-laced, is a miniature courtier. The portrait is now
+owned by William E. Huger, Esq., of Charleston, S.C.
+
+GOVERNOR AND REVEREND GURDON SALTONSTALL
+
+Born in 1666; died in 1724. Governor of Connecticut, 1708-24. He was
+also ordained a minister of the church at New London.
+
+MAYOR RIP VAN DAM
+
+Mayor of New York in 1710.
+
+JUDGE ABRAHAM DE PEYSTER OF NEW YORK
+
+GOVERNOR DE BIENVILLE, JEAN BAPTISTE LEMOINE
+
+Born in Montreal, Can., 1680. Died in 1768. French Governor of
+Louisiana for many years. He founded New Orleans. The original is in
+Longeuil, Can.
+
+DANIEL WALDO
+
+Born in Boston, 1724; died in 1808. Married Rebecca Salisbury.
+
+REV. JOHN MARSH, HARTFORD, CONN
+
+JOHN ADAMS IN YOUTH
+
+Born in Braintree, Mass., 1735; died at Quincy, Mass., 1826. Second
+President of the United States, 1797-1801. He was a member of Congress,
+signer of Declaration of Independence, Commissioner to France,
+Ambassador to The Netherlands, Peace Commissioner to Great Britain,
+Minister to Court of St. James. This portrait in youth is in a wig.
+Throughout life he wore his hair bushed out at the ears.
+
+JONATHAN EDWARDS, D.D.
+
+Born in 1745; died in 1801. He was a son of the great Jonathan Edwards,
+and was President of Union College, Schenectady, 1799-1801. This
+portrait shows the fashion of dressing the hair when wigs and powder
+had been banished and the hair hung lank and long in the neck.
+
+PATRICK HENRY
+
+Born in Virginia, 1736; died in Charlotte County, Va., in 1799. An
+orator, patriot, and a leader in the American Revolution. He organized
+the Committees of Correspondence, was a member of Continental Congress,
+1774, of the Virginia Convention, 1775, and was governor of Virginia
+for several terms. This portrait shows him in lawyer’s close wig and
+robe.
+
+“KING” CARTER
+
+Died, 1732.
+
+JUDGE BENJAMIN LYNDE, OF SALEM AND BOSTON, MASS
+
+Died, 1745. Painted by Smybert.
+
+JOHN RUTLEDGE
+
+Born, Charleston, S.C., 1739; died, 1800. He was member of Congress,
+governor of South Carolina, chief justice of Supreme Court. His hair is
+tied in cue.
+
+CAMPAIGN, RAMILLIES, BOB, AND PIGTAIL WIGS
+
+REV. WILLIAM WELSTEED
+
+From an engraving by Copley, his only engraving.
+
+THOMAS HOPKINSON
+
+Born in London, 1709. Came to America in 1731. Married Mary Johnson in
+1736. Made Judge of the Admiralty in 1741. Died in 1751. He was the
+father of Francis the Signer. This portrait is believed to be by Sir
+Godfrey Kneller.
+
+REV. DR. BARNARD
+
+A Connecticut clergyman.
+
+ANDREW ELLICOTT
+
+Born, 1754; died, 1820. A Maryland gentleman of wealth and position.
+
+HERBERT WESTPHALING
+
+Bishop of Hereford, Eng.
+
+HERALD CORNELIUS VANDUM.
+
+Born, 1483; died, 1577, aged ninety-four years. Yeoman of the Guard and
+usher to Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary, and Elizabeth. His beard is
+unique.
+
+SCOTCH BEARD
+
+Worn by Alexander Ross, 1655.
+
+DR. WILLIAM SLATER
+
+Cathedral beard.
+
+DR. JOHN DEE
+
+Born in London, 1527; died, 1608. An English mathematician, astrologer,
+physician, author, and magician. He wrote seventy-nine books, mostly on
+magic. His “pique-a-devant” beard might well “a man’s eye out-pike.”
+
+IRON AND LEATHER PATTENS, 1760
+
+Owned by author.
+
+OAK, IRON, AND LEATHER CLOGS
+
+In Museum of Bucks County Historical Society, Penn.
+
+ENGLISH CLOGS
+
+CHOPINES
+
+Drawing from Chopines in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. The tallest
+chopine had a sole about nine inches thick.
+
+WEDDING CLOGS
+
+These clogs are of silk brocade, and were made to match brocade
+slippers. The one with pointed toe would fit the brocaded shoes of the
+year 1760. The other has with it a high-heeled, black satin slipper of
+the year 1780, to show how they were worn. They forced a curious
+shuffling step.
+
+CLOGS OF PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH
+
+CHILD’S CLOGS
+
+About 1780. Owned by Bucks County Historical Society.
+
+COPLEY FAMILY PICTURE
+
+This group, consisting of the artist, John Singleton Copley, his wife,
+who was formerly a young widow, Susannah Farnham; his wife’s father,
+Richard Clarke, a most respected Boston merchant who was wealthy until
+ruined by the War of the Revolution; and the four little Copley
+children. Elizabeth is between four and five; John Singleton, Jr., is
+the boy of three, who afterwards became Lord Lyndhurst; Mary is aged
+two, and an infant is in the grandfather’s arms. Copley was born in
+1737, and must have been about thirty-seven when this was painted in
+1775. It is deemed by many his masterpiece. The portrait is owned by
+Mr. Amory, but is now in the custody of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
+It is most pronounced, almost startling, in color, every tint being
+absolutely frank.
+
+WEDDING SLIPPERS AND BROCADE STRIP, 1712
+
+Owned by Mrs. Thomas Robinson Harris, of Scarboro on the Hudson, N.Y.
+
+JACK-BOOTS
+
+Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia.
+
+JOSHUA WARNER
+
+A Portsmouth gentleman. This portrait is now in the Boston Museum of
+Fine Arts.
+
+SHOE AND KNEE BUCKLES
+
+They are shoe-buckles, breeches-buckles, garter-buckles, stock-buckles.
+Some are cut silver and gold; others are cut steel; some are paste.
+Some of these were owned by Dr. Edward Holyoke, of Salem, and are now
+owned by Miss Susan W. Osgood, of Salem, Mass.
+
+WEDDING SLIPPERS
+
+Worn in 1760 by granddaughter of Governor Simon Bradstreet. Owned by
+Miss Mary S. Cleveland, of Salem, Mass. Their make and finish are
+curious; they have paste buckles.
+
+ABIGAIL BROMFIELD ROGERS
+
+Painted by Copley in Europe. Owned by Miss Annette Rogers, of Boston,
+Mass.
+
+SLIPPERS
+
+Worn by Mrs. Carroll with the brocade silk sacque. They are embroidered
+in the colors of the brocade.
+
+WHITE KID SLIPPERS, 1810
+
+Owned by author.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS
+
+
+_“Deep-skirted doublets, puritanic capes
+Which now would render men like upright apes
+Was comelier wear, our wiser fathers thought
+Than the cast fashions from all Europe brought”_
+
+—“New England’s Crisis,” BENJAMIN TOMPSON, 1675.
+
+
+_“I am neither Niggard nor Cynic to the due Bravery of the true
+Gentry.”_
+
+—“The simple Cobbler of Agawam,” J. WARD, 1713.
+
+
+_“Never was it happier in England than when an Englishman was known
+abroad by his own cloth; and contented himself at home with his fine
+russet carsey hosen, and a warm slop; his coat, gown, and cloak of
+brown, blue or putre, with some pretty furnishings of velvet or fur,
+and a doublet of sad-tawnie or black velvet or comely silk, without
+such cuts and gawrish colours as are worn in these dayes by those who
+think themselves the gayest men when they have most diversities of
+jagges and changes of colours.”_
+
+—“Chronicles,” HOLINSHED, 1578.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS
+
+
+I
+
+
+t is difficult to discover the reasons, to trace the influences which
+have resulted in the production in the modern mind of that composite
+figure which serves to the everyday reader, the heedless observer, as
+the counterfeit presentment of the New England colonist,—the Boston
+Puritan or Plymouth Pilgrim. We have a very respectable notion, a
+fairly true picture, of Dutch patroon, Pennsylvania Quaker, and
+Virginia planter; but we see a very unreal New Englishman. This “gray
+old Gospeller, sour as midwinter,” appears with goodwife or dame in the
+hastily drawn illustrations of our daily press; we find him outlined
+with greater care but equal inaccuracy in our choicer periodical
+literature; we have him depicted by artists in our handsome books and
+on the walls of our art museums; he is cut in stone and cast in bronze
+for our halls and parks; he is dressed by actors for a part in some
+historical play; he is furbished up with conglomerate and makeshift
+garments by enthusiastic and confident young folk in tableau and
+fancy-dress party; he is richly and amply attired by portly,
+self-satisfied members of our patriotic-hereditary societies; we
+constantly see these figures garbed in semblance in some details, yet
+never in verisimilitude as a whole figure.
+
+We are wont to think of our Puritan forbears, indeed we are determined
+to think of them, garbed in sombre sad-colored garments, in a life
+devoid of color, warmth, or fragrance. But sad color was not dismal and
+dull save in name; it was brown in tone, and brown is warm, and being a
+primitive color is, like many primitive things, cheerful. Old England
+was garbed in hearty honest russet, even in the days of our
+colonization. Read the list of the garments of any master of the manor,
+of the honest English yeoman, of our own sturdy English emigrants from
+manor and farm in Suffolk and Essex. What did they wear across seas?
+What did they wear in the New World? What they wore in England, namely:
+Doublets of leathers, all brown in tint; breeches of various tanned
+skins and hides; untanned leather shoes; jerkins of “filomot” or
+“phillymort” (feuille morte), dead-leaf color; buff-coats of fine buff
+leather; tawny camlet cloaks and jackets of “du Boys” (which was wood
+color); russet hose; horseman’s coats of tan-colored linsey-woolsey or
+homespun ginger-lyne or brown perpetuana; fawn-colored mandillions and
+deer-colored cassocks—all brown; and sometimes a hat of natural beaver.
+Here is a “falding” doublet of “treen color”—and what is treen but
+wooden and wood color is brown again.
+
+It was a fitting dress for their conditions of life. The colonists
+lived close to nature—they touched the beginnings of things; and we are
+close to nature when all dress in russet. The homely “butternuts” of
+the Kentucky mountains express this; so too does khaki, a good, simple
+native dye and stuff; so eagerly welcomed, so closely cherished, as all
+good and primitive things should be.
+
+
+[Illustration: Governor John Endicott]
+
+So when I think of my sturdy Puritan forbears in the summer planting of
+Salem and of Boston, I see them in “honest russet kersey”; gay too with
+the bright stamell-red of their waistcoats and the grain-red linings of
+mandillions; scarlet-capped are they, and enlivened with many a great
+scarlet-hooded cloak. I see them in this attire on shipboard, where
+they were greeted off Salem with “a smell from the shore like the smell
+of a garden”; I see them landing in happy June amid “sweet wild
+strawberries and fair single roses.” I see them walking along the
+little lanes and half-streets in which for many years bayberry and
+sweet-fern lingered in dusty fragrant clumps by the roadside.
+
+“Scented with Cædar and Sweet Fern
+From Heats reflection dry,”
+
+
+wrote of that welcoming shore one colonist who came on the first ship,
+and noted in rhyme what he found and saw and felt and smelt. And I see
+the forefathers standing under the hot little cedar trees of the
+Massachusetts coast, not sober in sad color, but cheery in russet and
+scarlet; and sweetbrier and strawberries, bayberry and cedar, smell
+sweetly and glow genially in that summer sunlight which shines down on
+us through all these two centuries.
+
+We have ample sources from which to learn precisely what was worn by
+these first colonists—men and women—gentle and simple. We have minute
+“Lists of Apparell” furnished by the Colonization Companies to the male
+colonists; we have also ample lists of apparel supplied to individual
+emigrants of varied degree; we have inventories in detail of the
+personal estates of all those who died in the colonies even in the
+earliest years—inventories wherein even a half-worn pair of gloves is
+gravely set down, appraised in value, sworn to, and entered in the town
+records; we have wills giving equal minuteness; we have even the
+articles of dress themselves preserved from moth and rust and mildew;
+we have private letters asking that supplies of clothing be sent across
+seas—clothing substantial and clothing fashionable; we have ships’
+bills of lading showing that these orders were carried out; we have
+curiously minute private letters giving quaint descriptions and hints
+of new and modish wearing apparel; we have sumptuary laws telling what
+articles of clothing must not be worn by those of mean estate; we have
+court records showing trials under these laws; we have ministers’
+sermons denouncing excessive details of fashion, enumerating and almost
+describing the offences; and we have also a goodly number of portraits
+of men and a few of women. I give in this chapter excellent portraits
+of the first governors, Endicott, Winthrop, Bradstreet, Winslow; and
+others could be added. Having all these, do we need fashion-plates or
+magazines of the modes? We have also for the early years great
+instruction through comparison and inference in knowing the English
+fashions of those dates as revealed through inventories, compotuses,
+accounts, diaries, letters, portraits, prints, carvings, and effigies;
+and American fashions varied little from English ones.
+
+
+[Illustration: Governor Edward Winslow]
+
+It is impossible to disassociate the history of costume from the
+general history of the country where such dress is worn. Nor could any
+one write upon dress with discrimination and balance unless he knew
+thoroughly the dress of all countries and likewise the history of all
+countries. Of the special country, he must know more than general
+history, for the relations of small things to great things are too
+close. Influences apparently remote prove vital. At no time was history
+told in dress, and at no period was dress influenced by historical
+events more than during the seventeenth century and in the dress of
+English-speaking folk. The writer on dress should know the temperament
+and character of the dress wearer; this was of special bearing in the
+seventeenth century. It would be thought by any one ignorant of the
+character of the first Puritan settlers, and indifferent to or ignorant
+of historical facts, that in a new world with all the hardships,
+restraints, lacks, and inconveniences, no one, even the vainest woman,
+would think much upon dress, save that it should be warm, comfortable,
+ample, and durable. But, in truth, such was not the case. Even in the
+first years the settlers paid close attention to their attire, to its
+richness, its elegance, its modishness, and watched narrowly also the
+attire of their neighbors, not only from a distinct liking for dress,
+but from a careful regard of social distinctions and from a regard for
+the proprieties and relations of life. Dress was a badge of rank, of
+social standing and dignity; and class distinctions were just as
+zealously guarded in America, the land of liberty, as in England. The
+Puritan church preached simplicity of dress; but the church attendants
+never followed that preaching. All believed, too, that dress had a
+moral effect, as it certainly does; that to dress orderly and well and
+convenable to the existing fashions helped to preserve the morals of
+the individual and general welfare of the community. Eagerly did the
+settlers seek every year, every season, by every incoming ship, by
+every traveller, to learn the changes of fashions in Europe. The first
+native-born poet, Benjamin Tompson, is quoted in the heading of this
+chapter in a wail over thus following new fashions, a wail for the
+“good old times,” as has been the cry of “old fogy” poets and
+philosophers since the days of the ancient classics.
+
+We have ample proof of the love of dignity, of form, of state, which
+dominated even in the first struggling days; we can see the governor of
+Virginia when he landed, turning out his entire force in most formal
+attire and with full company of forty halberdiers in scarlet cloaks to
+attend in imposing procession the church services in the poor little
+church edifice—this when the settlement at Jamestown was scarce more
+than an encampment.
+
+We can read the words of Winthrop, the governor of Massachusetts, in
+which he recounts his mortification at the undignified condition of
+affairs when the governor of the French province, the courtly La Tour,
+landed unexpectedly in Boston and caught the governor picnicking
+peacefully with his family on an island in the harbor, with no
+attendants, no soldiers, no dignitaries. Nor was there any force in the
+fort, and therefore no salute could be given to the distinguished
+visitors; and still more mortifying was the sole announcement of this
+important arrival through the hurried sail across the bay, and the
+running to the governor of a badly scared woman neighbor. We see
+Winthrop trying to recover his dignity in La Tour’s eyes (and in his
+own) by bourgeoning throughout the remainder of the French governor’s
+stay with an imposing guard of soldiers in formal attendance at every
+step he took abroad; ordering them to wear, I am sure, their very
+fullest stuffed doublets and shiniest armor, while he displayed his
+best black velvet suit of garments. Fortunately for New England’s
+appearance, Winthrop was a man of such aristocratic bearing and feature
+that no dress or lack of dress could lower his dignity.
+
+
+Governor John Winthrop. Governor John Winthrop.
+
+Our forbears did not change their dress by emigrating; they may have
+worn heavier clothing in New England, more furs, stronger shoes, but I
+cannot find that they adopted simpler or less costly clothing; any
+change that may have been made through Puritan belief and teaching had
+been made in England. All the colonists
+
+“ ... studied after nyce array,
+And made greet cost in clothing.”
+
+
+Many persons preferred to keep their property in the form of what they
+quaintly called “duds.” The fashion did not wear out more apparel than
+the man; for clothing, no matter what its cut, was worn as long as it
+lasted, doing service frequently through three generations. For
+instance, we find Mrs. Epes, of Ipswich, Massachusetts, when she was
+over fifty years old, receiving this bequest by will: “If she desire to
+have the suit of damask which was the Lady Cheynies her grandmother,
+let her have it upon appraisement.” I have traced a certain flowered
+satin gown and “manto” in four wills; a dame to her daughter; she to
+her sister; then to the child of the last-named who was a granddaughter
+of the first owner. And it was a proud possession to the last. The
+fashions and shapes then did not change yearly. The Boston gentlewoman
+of 1660 would not have been ill dressed or out of the mode in the dress
+worn by her grandmother when she landed in 1625.
+
+Petty details were altered in woman’s dress—though but slightly; the
+change of a cap, a band, a scarf, a ruffle, meant much to the wearer,
+though it seems unimportant to us to-day. Men’s dress, we know from
+portraits, was unaltered for a time save in neckwear and hair-dressing,
+both being of such importance in costume that they must be written upon
+at length.
+
+Let us fix in our minds the limit of reign of each ruler during the
+early years of colonization, and the dates of settlement of each
+colony. When Elizabeth died in 1603, the Brownist Puritans or
+Separatists were well established in Holland; they had been there
+twenty years. They were dissatisfied with their Dutch home, however,
+and had had internal quarrels—one, of petty cause, namely, a “topish
+Hatt,” a “Schowish Hood,” a “garish spitz-fashioned Stomacher,” the
+vain garments of one woman; but the strife over these “abhominations”
+lasted eleven years.
+
+James I was king when the Pilgrims came to America in 1620; but Charles
+I was on the throne in 1630 when John Winthrop arrived with his band of
+friends and followers and settled in Salem and Boston.
+
+The settlement of Portsmouth and Dover in New Hampshire was in 1623,
+and in Maine the same year. The settlements of the Dutch in New
+Netherland were in 1614; while Virginia, named for Elizabeth, the
+Virgin Queen, and discovered in her day, was settled first of all at
+Jamestown in 1607. The Plymouth colony was poor. It came poor from
+Holland, and grew poorer through various misfortunes and set-backs—one
+being the condition of the land near Plymouth. The Massachusetts Bay
+Company was different. It came with properties estimated to be worth a
+million dollars, and it had prospered wonderfully after an opening year
+of want and distress. The relative social condition and means of the
+settlers of Jamestown, of Plymouth, of Boston, were carefully
+investigated from English sources by a thoughtful and fair authority,
+the historian Green. He says of the Boston settlers in his _Short
+History of the English People_:—
+
+
+“Those Massachusetts settlers were not like the earlier colonists of
+the South; broken men, adventurers, bankrupts, criminals; or simply
+poor men and artisans like the Pilgrim Fathers of the _Mayflower_. They
+were in great part men of the professional and middle classes, some of
+them men of large landed estate, some zealous clergymen, some shrewd
+London lawyers or young scholars from Oxford. The bulk were God-fearing
+farmers from Lincolnshire and the Eastern counties.”
+
+
+A full comprehension of these differences in the colonies will make us
+understand certain conditions, certain surprises, as to dress; for
+instance, why so little of the extreme Puritan is found in the dress of
+the first Boston colonists.
+
+There lived in England, near the close of Elizabeth’s reign, a Puritan
+named Philip Stubbes, to whom we are infinitely indebted for our
+knowledge of English dress of his times. It was also the dress of the
+colonists; for details of attire, especially of men’s wear, had not
+changed to any extent since the years in which and of which Philip
+Stubbes wrote.
+
+He published in 1586 a book called _An Anatomie of Abuses_, in which he
+described in full the excesses of England in his day. He wrote with
+spirited, vivid pen, and in plain speech, leaving nothing unspoken lest
+it offend, and he used strong, racy English words and sentences. In his
+later editions he even took pains to change certain “strange, inkhorn
+terms” or complicate words of his first writing into simpler ones. Thus
+he changed _preter time_ to _former ages; auditory_ to _hearers;
+prostrated_ to _humbled; consummate_ to _ended_; and of course this was
+to the book’s advantage. Unusual words still linger, however, but we
+must believe they are not intentionally “outlandish” as was the term of
+the day for such words.
+
+The attitude of Stubbes toward dress and dress wearers is of great
+interest, for he was certainly one of the most severe, most determined,
+most conscientious of Puritans; yet his hatred of “corruptions desiring
+reformation” did not lead him to a hatred of dress in itself. He is
+careful to state in detail in the body of his book and in his preface
+that his attack is not upon the dress of people of wealth and station;
+that he approves of rich dress for the rich. His hatred is for the
+pretentious dress of the many men of low birth or of mean estate who
+lavish their all in dress ill suited to their station; and also his
+reproof is for swindling in dress materials and dress-making; against
+false weights and measures, adulterations and profits; in short,
+against abuses, not uses.
+
+
+Governor Simon Bradstreet. Governor Simon Bradstreet.
+
+His words run thus explicitly:—
+
+
+“Whereas I have spoken of the excesse in apparell, and of the Abuse of
+the same as wel in Men as in Women, generally I would not be so
+understood as though my speaches extended to any either noble honorable
+or worshipful; for I am farre from once thinking that any kind of
+sumptuous or gorgeous Attire is not to be worn of them; as I suppose
+them rather Ornaments in them than otherwise. And therefore when I
+speak of excesse of Apparel my meaning is of the inferiour sorte only
+who for the most parte do farre surpasse either noble honorable or
+worshipful, ruffling in Silks Velvets, Satens, Damaske, Taffeties, Gold
+Silver and what not; these bee the Abuses I speak of, these bee the
+Evills that I lament, and these bee the Persons my wordes doe concern.”
+
+
+There was ample room for reformation from Stubbes’s point of view.
+
+
+“There is such a confuse mingle mangle of apparell and such
+preponderous excess thereof, as every one is permitted to flaunt it out
+in what apparell he has himself or can get by anie kind of means. So
+that it is verie hard to know who is noble, who is worshipful, who is a
+gentleman, who is not; for you shall have those who are neither of the
+nobilytie, gentilitie, nor yeomanrie goe daylie in silks velvets satens
+damasks taffeties notwithstanding they be base by byrth, meane by
+estate and servyle by calling. This a great confusion, a general
+disorder. God bee mercyfull unto us.”
+
+
+This regard of dress was, I take it, the regard of the Puritan reformer
+in general; it was only excess in dress that was hated. This was
+certainly the estimate of the best of the Puritans, and it was
+certainly the belief of the New England Puritan. It would be thought,
+and was thought by some men, that in the New World liberty of religious
+belief and liberty of dress would be given to all. Not at all!—the
+Puritan magistrates at once set to work to show, by means of sumptuary
+laws, rules of town settlement, and laws as to Sunday observance and
+religious services, that nothing of the kind was expected or intended,
+or would be permitted willingly. No religious sects and denominations
+were welcome save the Puritans and allied forms—Brownists,
+Presbyterians, Congregationalists. For a time none other were permitted
+to hold services; no one could wear rich dress save gentlefolk, and
+folk of wealth or some distinction—as Stubbes said, “by being in some
+sort of office”
+
+We shall find in the early pages of this book frequent references to
+Stubbes’s descriptions of articles of dress, but his own life has some
+bearing on his utterances; so let me bear testimony as to his character
+and to the absolute truth of his descriptions. He was held up in his
+own day to contempt by that miserable Thomas Nashe who plagiarized his
+title and helped his own dull book into popularity by calling it _The
+Anatomie of Absurdities_; and who further ran on against him in a still
+duller book, _An Almand for a Parrat_. He called Stubbes “A MarPrelate
+Zealot and Hypocrite” and Stubbes has been held up by others as a
+morose man having no family ties and no social instincts. He was in
+reality the tenderest of husbands to a modest, gentle, pious girl whom
+he married when she was but fourteen, and with whom he lived in ideal
+happiness until her death in child-birth when eighteen years old. He
+bore testimony to his happiness and her goodness in a loving but sad
+and trying book “intituled” _A Christiall Glasse for Christian Women_.
+It is a record of a life which was indeed pure as crystal; a life so
+retiring, so quiet, so composed, so unvarying, a life so remote from
+any gentlewoman’s life to day that it seems of another ether, another
+planet, as well as of another century. But it is useful for us to know
+it, notwithstanding its background of gloomy religionism and its air of
+unreality; for it helps us to understand the character of Puritan women
+and of Philip Stubbes. This fair young wife died in an ecstasy, her
+voice triumphant, her face radiant with visions of another and a
+glorious life. And yet she was not wholly happy in death; for she had a
+Puritan conscience, and she thought she _must_ have offended God in
+some way. She had to search far indeed for the offence; and this was
+it—it would be absurd if it were not so true and so deep in its
+sentiment of regret. She and her husband had set their hearts too much
+in affection upon a little dog that they had loved well, and she found
+now that “it was a vanitye”; and she repented of it, and bade them bear
+the dog from her bedside. Knowing Stubbes’s love for this little dog
+(and knowing it must have been a spaniel, for they were then being well
+known and beloved and were called “Spaniel-gentles or comforters”—a
+wonderfully appropriate name), I do not much mind the fierce words with
+which he stigmatizes the vanity and extravagance of women. I have a
+strong belief too that if we knew the dress of his child-wife, we would
+find that he liked her bravely even richly attired, and that he
+acquired his wonderful mastery of every term and detail of women’s
+dress, every term of description, through a very uxorious regard of his
+wife’s apparel.
+
+
+Sir Richard Saltonstall. Sir Richard Saltonstall.
+
+Of the absolute truth of every word in Stubbes’s accounts we have ample
+corroborative proof. He wrote in real earnest, in true zeal, for the
+reform of the foolery and extravagance he saw around him, not against
+imaginary evils. There is ample proof in the writings of his
+contemporaries—in Shakespere’s comparisons, in Harrison’s sensible
+_Description of England_, in Tom Coryat’s _Crudities_—and oddities—of
+the existence of this foolishness and extravagance. There is likewise
+ample proof in the sumptuary laws of Elizabeth’s day.
+
+It would have been the last thing the solemn Stubbes could have liked
+or have imagined, that he should have afforded important help to future
+writers upon costume, yet such is the case. For he described the dress
+of English men and women with as much precision as a modern reporter of
+the modes. No casual survey of dress could have furnished to him the
+detail of his description. It required much examination and inquiry,
+especially as to the minutiae of women’s dress. Therefore when I read
+his bitter pages (if I can forget the little pet spaniel) I have always
+a comic picture in my mind of a sour, morose, shocked old Puritan, “a
+meer, bitter, narrow-sould Puritan” clad in cloak and doublet, with
+great horn spectacles on nose, and ample note-book, penner, and
+ink-horn in hand, agonizingly though eagerly surveying the figure of
+one of his fashion-clad women neighbors, walking around her slowly,
+asking as he walked the name of this jupe, the price of that pinner,
+the stuff of this sleeve, the cut of this cap, groaning as he wrote it
+all down, yet never turning to squire or knight till every detail of
+her extravagance and “greet cost” is recorded. In spite of all his
+moralizing his quill pen had too sharp a point, his scowling forehead
+and fierce eyes too keen a power of vision ever to render to us a dull
+page; even the author of _Wimples and Crisping Pins_ might envy his
+powers of perception and description.
+
+The bravery of the Jacobean gallant did not differ in the main from his
+dress under Elizabeth; but in details he found some extravagances. The
+love-locks became more prominent, and shoe-roses and garters both grew
+in size. Pomanders were carried by men and women, and
+“casting-bottles.” Gloves and pockets were perfumed. As musk was the
+favorite scent this perfume-wearing is not over-alluring. As a
+preventive of the plague all perfumes were valued.
+
+Since a hatred and revolt against this excess was one of the conditions
+which positively led to the formation of the Puritan political party if
+not of the Separatist religious faith, and as a consequence to the
+settlement of the English colonies in America, let us recount the
+conditions of dress in England when America was settled. Let us regard
+first the dress of a courtier whose name is connected closely and
+warmly in history and romance with the colonization of America; a man
+who was hated by the Pilgrim and Puritan fathers but whose dress in
+some degree and likeness, though modified and simplified, must have
+been worn by the first emigrants to Virginia across seas—let us look at
+the portrait of Sir Walter Raleigh. He was a hero and a scholar, but he
+was also a courtier; and of a court, too, where every court-attendant
+had to bethink himself much and ever of dress, for dress occupied
+vastly the thought and almost wholly the public conversation of his
+queen and her successor.
+
+
+Sir Walter Raleigh. Sir Walter Raleigh.
+
+To understand Raleigh’s dress, you must know the man and his life; to
+comprehend its absurdities and forgive its follies and see whence it
+originated, you must know Elizabeth and her dress; you must see her
+with “oblong face, eyes small, yet black; her nose a little hooked, her
+lips narrow, her teeth black; false hair and that red,”—these are the
+striking and plain words of the German ambassador to her court. You
+must look at this queen with her colorless meagre person lost in a
+dress monstrous in size, yet hung, even in its enormous expanse of many
+square yards, with crowded ornaments, tags, jewels, laces,
+embroideries, gimp, feathers, knobs, knots, and aglets, with these
+bedizened rankly, embellished richly. You must see her talking in
+public of buskins and gowns, love-locks and virginals, anything but
+matters of seriousness or of state; you must note her at a formal
+ceremonial tickling handsome Dudley in the neck; watch her dancing,
+“most high and disposedly” when in great age; you must see her giving
+Essex a hearty boxing of the ear; hear her swearing at her ministers.
+You must remember, too, her parents, her heritage. From King Henry VIII
+came her love of popularity, her great activity, her extraordinary
+self-confidence, her indomitable will, her outbursts of anger, her
+cruelty, just as came her harsh, mannish voice. From her mother, Anne
+Boleyn, came her sensuous love of pleasure, of dress, of flattery, of
+gayety and laughter. Her nature came from her mother, her temper from
+her father. The familiarity with Robert Dudley was but a piece with her
+boisterous romps in her girlhood, and her flap in the face of young
+Talbot when he saw her “unready in my night-stuff.” But she had more in
+her than came from Henry and Anne; she had her own individuality, which
+made her as hard as steel, made her resolute, made her live frugally
+and work hard, and, above all, made her know her limitations. The
+woman, be she queen or the plainest mortal, who can estimate accurately
+her own limitations, who is proof against enthusiasm, proof against
+ambition, and, at a climax, proof against flattery, who knows what she
+can _not_ do, in that very thing finds success. Elizabeth was and ever
+will be a wonderful character-study; I never weary of reading or
+thinking of her.
+
+The settlement of Massachusetts was under James I; but costume varied
+little, save that it became more cumbersome. This may be attributed
+directly to the cowardice of the king, who wore quilted and
+padded—dagger-proof—clothing; and thus gave to his courtiers an example
+of stuffing and padding which exceeded even that of the men of
+Elizabeth’s day. “A great, round, abominable breech,” did the satirists
+call it. Stays had to be worn beneath the long-waisted,
+peascod-bellied, stuffed doublet to keep it in shape; thus a man’s
+attire had scarcely a single natural outline.
+
+We have this description of Raleigh, courtier and “servant” of
+Elizabeth and victim of James, given by a contemporary, Aubrey:—
+
+
+“He looked like a Knave with his gogling eyes. He could transform
+himself into any shape. He was a tall, handsome, bold man; but his
+naeve was that he was damnably proud. A good piece of him is in a white
+satin doublet all embroidered with rich pearls, and a mighty told me
+that the true pearls were nigh as big as the painted ones. He had a
+most remarkable aspect, an exceeding high forehead, long faced, and
+sour eie-lidded, a kind of pigge-eie.”
+
+
+We leave the choice of belief between one sentence of this personal
+description, that he was handsome, and the later plain-spoken details
+to the judgment of the reader. Certainly both statements cannot be
+true. As I look at his portrait, the “good piece of him” here, I wholly
+disbelieve the former.
+
+
+Sir Walter Raleigh and Son. Sir Walter Raleigh and Son.
+
+His laced-in, stiffened waist, his absurd breeches, his ruffs and
+sashes and knots, his great shoe-roses, his jewelled hatband, make this
+a fantastic picture, one of little dignity, though of vast cost. The
+jewels on his shoes were said to have cost thirty thousand pounds; and
+the perfect pearls in his ear, as seen in another portrait, must have
+been an inch and a half long. He had doublets entirely covered with a
+pattern of jewels. In another portrait (here) his little son, poor
+child, stands by his side in similar stiff attire. The famous portrait
+of Sir Philip Sidney and his brother is equally comic in its absurdity
+of costume for young lads.
+
+Read these words descriptive of another courtier, of the reign of
+James; his favorite, the Duke of Buckingham:—
+
+
+“With great buttons of diamonds, and with diamond hat bands, cockades
+and ear-rings, yoked with great and manifold knots of pearls. At his
+going over to Paris in 1625 he had twenty-seven suits of clothes made
+the richest that embroidery, gems, lace, silk, velvet, gold and stones
+could contribute; one of which was a white uncut velvet set all over
+suit and cloak with diamonds valued at £14,000 besides a great feather
+stuck all over with diamonds, as were also his sword, girdle, hat-band
+and spurs.”
+
+
+These were all courtiers, but we should in general think of an English
+merchant as dressed richly but plainly; yet here is the dress of
+Marmaduke Rawdon, a merchant of that day:—
+
+
+“The apparell he rid in, with his chaine of gold and hat band was
+vallued in a thousand Spanish ducats; being two hundred and seventy and
+five pounds sterling. His hatband was of esmeralds set in gold; his
+suite was of a fine cloth trim’d with a small silke and gold fringe;
+the buttons of his suite fine gold—goldsmith’s work; his rapier and
+dagger richly hatcht with gold.”
+
+
+The white velvet dress of Buckingham showed one of the extreme fashions
+of the day, the wearing of pure white. Horace Walpole had a full-length
+painting of Lord Falkland all in white save his black gloves. Another
+of Sir Godfrey Hart, 1600, is all in white save scarlet heels to the
+shoes. These scarlet heels were worn long in every court. Who will ever
+forget their clatter in the pages of Saint Simon, as they ran in
+frantic haste through hall and corridor—in terror, in cupidity, in
+satisfaction, in zeal to curry favor, in desire to herald the news, in
+hope to obtain office, in every mean and detestable spirit—ran from the
+bedside of the dying king? We can still hear, after two centuries, the
+noisy, heartless tapping of those hurrying red heels.
+
+
+Robert Devereux Earle of Essex His Excellency & Generall of y° Army.
+Pub April 1. 1799 by W Richardson York House N° 31 Strand Robert
+Devereux
+
+Look at the portrait of another courtier, Sir Robert Dudley, who died
+in 1639; not the Robert Dudley who was tickled in the neck by Queen
+Elizabeth while he was being dubbed earl; not the Dudley who murdered
+Amy Robsart, but his disowned son by a noble lady whom he secretly
+married and dishonored. This son was a brave sailor and a learned man.
+He wrote the _Arcana del Mare_, and he was a sportsman; “the first of
+all that taught a dog to sit in order to catch partridges.” His
+portrait shows clumsy armor and showy rings, a great jewel and a vast
+tie of gauze ribbon on one arm; on the other a cord with many aglets;
+he wears marvellously embroidered, slashed, and bombasted breeches,
+tight hose, a heavily jewelled, broad belt; and a richly fringed scarf
+over one shoulder, and ridiculous garters at his calf. It is so absurd,
+so vain a dress one cannot wonder that sensible gentlemen turned away
+in disgust to so-called Puritan plainness, even if it went to the
+extreme of Puritan ugliness.
+
+But in truth the eccentrics and extremes of Puritan dress were adopted
+by zealots; the best of that dress only was worn by the best men of the
+party. All Puritans were not like Philip Stubbes, the moralist; nor did
+all Royalists dress like Buckingham, the courtier.
+
+I have spoken of the influence of the word “sad-color.” I believe that
+our notion of the gloom of Puritan dress, of the dress certainly of the
+New England colonist, comes to us through it, for the term was
+certainly much used. A Puritan lover in Dorchester, Massachusetts, in
+1645, wrote to his lass that he had chosen for her a sad-colored gown.
+Winthrop wrote, “Bring the coarsest woolen cloth, so it be not flocks,
+and of sad colours and some red;” and he ordered a “grave gown” for his
+wife, “not black, but sad-colour.” But while sad-colored meant a quiet
+tint, it did not mean either a dull stone color or a dingy grayish
+brown—nor even a dark brown. We read distinctly in an English list of
+dyes of the year 1638 of these tints in these words, “Sadd-colours the
+following; liver colour, De Boys, tawney, russet, purple, French green,
+ginger-lyne, deere colour, orange colour.” Of these nine tints, five,
+namely, “De Boys,” tawny, russet, ginger-lyne, and deer color, were all
+browns. Other colors in this list of dyes were called “light colours”
+and “graine colours.” Light colors were named plainly as those which
+are now termed by shopmen “evening shades”; that is, pale blue, pink,
+lemon, sulphur, lavender, pale green, ecru, and cream color. Grain
+colors were shades of scarlet, and were worn as much as russet. When
+dress in sad colors ranged from purple and French green through the
+various tints of brown to orange, it was certainly not a _dull_-colored
+dress.
+
+Let us see precisely what were the colors of the apparel of the first
+colonists. Let us read the details of russet and scarlet. We find them
+in _The Record of the Governor and Company of the Massachusetts Bay in
+New England_, one of the incontrovertible sources which are a delight
+to every true historian. These records are in the handwriting of the
+first secretary, Washburn, and contain lists of the articles sent on
+the ships _Talbot, George, Lion’s Whelp, Four Sisters_, and _Mayflower_
+for the use of the plantation at Naumkeag (Salem) and later at Boston.
+They give the amount of iron, coal, and bricks sent as ballast; the red
+lead, sail-cloth, and copper; and in 1629, at some month and day
+previous to 16th of March, give the order for the “Apparell for 100
+men.” We learn that each colonist had this attire:—
+
+
+“4 Pair Shoes.
+2 Pair Irish Stockings about 13d. a pair.
+1 Pair knit Stockings about 2s. 4d. a pair.
+1 Pair Norwich Garters about 5s. a dozen.
+4 Shirts.
+2 Suits of Doublet and Hose; of leather lined with oiled skin leather,
+the hose and doublet with hooks and eyes.
+1 Suit of Northern Dussens or Hampshire Kerseys lined, the hose with
+skins, the doublet with linen of Guildford or Gedleyman serges, 2s.
+10d. a yard, 4-1/2 to 5 yards a suit.
+4 Bands.
+2 Plain falling bands.
+1 Standing band.
+1 Waistcoat of green cotton bound about with red tape.
+1 Leather Girdle.
+2 Monmouth Cap, about 2s. apiece.
+1 Black Hat lined at the brim with leather.
+5 Red knit caps milled; about 5d. apiece.
+2 Dozen Hooks and eyes and small hooks and eyes for mandillions.
+1 Pair Calfs Leather gloves (and some odd pairs of knit and sheeps
+leather gloves).
+A number of Ells Sheer Linen for Handkerchiefs.”
+
+
+On March 16th was added to this list a mandillion lined with cotton at
+12d. a yard. Also breeches and waistcoats; a leather suit of doublet
+and breeches of oiled leather; a pair of breeches of leather, “the
+drawers to serve to wear with both their other suits.” There was also
+full, yes, generous for the day, provision of rugs, bedticks, bolsters,
+mats, blankets, and sheets for the berths, and table linen. There were
+fifty beds; evidently two men occupied each bed. Folk, even of wealth
+and refinement, were not at all sensitive as to their mode of sleeping
+or their bedfellows. The pages of Pepys’s _Diary_ give ample examples
+of this carelessness.
+
+Arms and armor were also furnished, as will be explained in a later
+chapter.
+
+A private letter written by an engineer, one Master Graves, the
+following year (1630), giving a list of “such needful things as every
+planter ought to provide,” affords a more curt and much less expensive
+list, though this has three full suits, two being of wool stuffs:—
+
+
+“1 Monmouth Cap.
+3 Falling Bands.
+3 Shirts.
+1 Waistcoat.
+1 Suit Canvass.
+1 Suit Frieze.
+1 Suit of Cloth.
+3 Pair of Stockings.
+4 Pair of Shoes.
+Armour complete.
+Sword &; Belt.”
+
+
+The underclothing in this outfit seems very scanty.
+
+I am sure that to some of the emigrants on these ships either outfit
+afforded an ampler wardrobe than they had known theretofore in England,
+though English folk of that day were well dressed. With a little
+consideration we can see that the Massachusetts Bay apparel was
+adequate for all occasions, but it was far different from a man’s dress
+to-day. The colonist “hadn’t a coat to his back”; nor had he a pair of
+trousers. Some had not even a pair of breeches. It was a time when
+great changes in dress were taking place. The ancient gown had just
+been abandoned for doublet and long hose, which were still in high
+esteem, especially among “the elder sort,” with garters or points for
+the knees. These doublets were both of leather and wool. And there were
+also doublets to be worn by younger men with breeches and stockings.
+
+When doublet and hose were worn, the latter were, of course, the long,
+Florentine hose, somewhat like our modern tights.
+
+The jerkin of other lists varied little from the doublet; both were
+often sleeveless, and the cassock in turn was different only in being
+longer; buff-coat and horseman’s coat were slightly changed. The
+evolution of doublet, jerkin, and cassock into a man’s coat is a long
+enough story for a special chapter, and one which took place just while
+America was being settled. Let me explain here that, while the general
+arrangement of this book is naturally chronological, we halt upon our
+progress at times, to review a certain aspect of dress, as, for
+instance, the riding-dress of women, or the dress of the Quakers, or to
+review the description of certain details of dress in a consecutive
+account. We thus run on ahead of our story sometimes; and other times,
+topics have to be resumed and reviewed near the close of the book.
+
+The breeches worn by the early planters were fulled at the waist and
+knee, after the Dutch fashion, somewhat like our modern knickerbockers
+or the English bag-breeches.
+
+The four pairs of shoes furnished to the colonists were the best. In
+another entry the specifications of their make are given thus:—
+
+
+“Welt Neats Leather shoes crossed on the out-side with a seam. To be
+substantial good over-leather of the best, and two soles; the under
+sole of Neats-leather, the outer sole of tallowed backs.”
+
+
+They were to be of ample size, some thirteen inches long; each
+reference to them insisted upon good quality.
+
+There is plentiful head-gear named in these inventories,—six caps and a
+hat for each man, at a time when Englishmen thought much and deeply
+upon what they wore to cover their heads, and at a time when hats were
+very costly. I give due honor to those hats in an entire chapter, as I
+do to the ruffs and bands supplied in such adequate and dignified
+numbers. There was an unusually liberal supply of shirts, and there
+were drawers which are believed to have been draw-strings for the
+breeches.
+
+In _New England’s First Fruits_ we read instructions to bring over
+“good Irish stockings, which if they are good are much more serviceable
+than knit ones.” There appears to have been much variety in shape as
+well as in material. John Usher, writing in 1675 to England, says,
+“your sherrups stockings and your turn down stocking are not salable
+here.” Nevertheless, stirrup stockings and socks were advertised in the
+Boston News Letter as late as January 30, 1731. Stirrup-hose are
+described in 1658 as being very wide at the top—two yards wide—and
+edged with points or eyelet holes by which they were made fast to the
+girdle or bag-breeches. Sometimes they were allowed to bag down over
+the garter. They are said to have been worn on horseback to protect the
+other garments.
+
+Stockings at that time were made of cotton and woollen cloth more than
+they were knitted. Calico stockings are found in inventories, and often
+stockings as well as hose with calico linings. In the clothing of
+William Wright of Plymouth, at his death in 1633, were
+
+
+“2 Pair Old Knit Stockins.
+2 Pair Old Yrish Stockins.
+2 Pair Cloth Stockins.
+2 Pair Wadmoll Stockins.
+4 Pair Linnen Stockins,”
+
+
+which would indicate that Goodman Wright had stockings for all
+weathers, or, as said a list of that day, “of all denominations.” He
+had also two pair of boot-hose and two pair of boot-briches; evidently
+he was a seafaring man. I must note that he had more ample
+underclothing than many “plain citizens,” having cotton drawers and
+linen drawers and dimity waistcoats.
+
+That petty details of propriety and dignity of dress were not
+forgotten; that the articles serving to such dignity were furnished to
+the colonists, and the use of these articles was expected of them, is
+shown by the supply of such additions to dress as Norwich garters.
+Garters had been a decorative and elegant ornament to dress, as may be
+seen by glancing at the portraits of Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir Robert
+Orchard, and the _English Antick_, in this book. And they might well
+have been decried as offensive luxuries unmeet for any Puritan and
+unnecessary for any colonist; yet here they are. The settlers in one of
+the closely following ships had points for the knee as well as garters.
+
+From all this cheerful and ample dress, this might well be a Cavalier
+emigration; in truth, the apparel supplied as an outfit to the Virginia
+planters (who are generally supposed to be far more given over to rich
+dress) is not as full nor as costly as this apparel of Massachusetts
+Bay. In this as in every comparison I make, I find little to indicate
+any difference between Puritan and Cavalier in quantity of garments, in
+quality, or cost—or, indeed, in form. The differences in England were
+much exaggerated in print; in America they often existed wholly in
+men’s notions of what a Puritan must be.
+
+At first the English Puritan reformers made marked alterations in
+dress; and there were also distinct changes in the soldiers of
+Cromwell’s army, but in neither case did rigid reforms prove permanent,
+nor were they ever as great or as sweeping as the changes which came to
+the Cavalier dress. Many of the extremes preached in Elizabeth’s day
+had disappeared before New England was settled; they had been abandoned
+as unwise or unnecessary; others had been adopted by Cavaliers, so that
+equalized all differences. I find it difficult to pick out with
+accuracy Puritan or Cavalier in any picture of a large gathering. Let
+us glance at the Puritan Roundhead, at Cromwell himself. His picture is
+given here, cut from a famous print of his day, which represents
+Cromwell dissolving the Long Parliament. He and his three friends, all
+Puritan leaders, are dressed in clothes as distinctly Cavalier as the
+attire of the king himself. The graceful hats with sweeping ostrich
+feathers are precisely like the Cavalier hats still preserved in
+England; like one in the South Kensington Museum. Cromwell’s wide boots
+and his short cape all have a Cavalier aspect.
+
+
+Cromwell dissolving Parliament. Be gone you rogues/You have Sate long
+enough. Cromwell dissolving Parliament.
+
+While Cromwell was steadily working for power, the fashion of plain
+attire was being more talked about than at any other time; so he
+appeared in studiously simple dress—the plainest apparel, indeed, of
+any man prominent in affairs in English history. This is a description
+of his appearance at a time before his name was in all Englishmen’s
+mouths. It was written by Sir Philip Warwick:—
+
+
+“The first time I ever took notice of him (Cromwell) was in the
+beginning of Parliament, November, 1640. I came into the house one
+morning, well-clad, and perceived a gentleman speaking whom I knew not,
+very ordinary apparelled, for it was a plain cloth suit which seemed to
+have been made by an ill country tailor. His linen was plain and not
+very clean, and I remember a speck or two of blood upon his band which
+was not much larger than his collar; his hat was without a hat-band;
+his stature was of good size; his sword stuck close to his side.”
+
+
+Lowell has written of what he terms verbal magic; the power of certain
+words and sentences, apparently simple, and without any recognizable
+quality, which will, nevertheless, fix themselves in our memory, or
+will picture a scene to us which we can never forget. This description
+of Cromwell has this magic. There is no apparent reason why these
+plain, commonplace words should fix in my mind this simple, rough-hewn
+form; yet I never can think of Cromwell otherwise than in this attire,
+and whatever portrait I see of him, I instinctively look for the spot
+of blood on his band. I know of his rich dress after he was in power;
+of that splendid purple velvet suit in which he lay majestic in death;
+but they never seem to me to be Cromwell—he wears forever an ill-cut,
+clumsy cloth suit, a close sword, and rumpled linen.
+
+The noble portraits of Cromwell by the miniaturist, Samuel Cooper,
+especially the one which is at Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, are
+held to be the truest likenesses. They show a narrow band, but the hair
+curls softly on the shoulders. The wonderful portrait of the Puritan
+General Ireton, in the National Portrait Gallery, has beautiful, long
+hair, and a velvet suit much slashed, and with many loops and buttons
+at the slashes. He wears mustache and imperial. We expect we may find
+that friend of Puritanism, Lucius Carey, Lord Falkland, in rich dress;
+and we find him in the richest of dress; namely, a doublet made, as to
+its body and large full sleeves, wholly of bands an inch or two wide of
+embroidery and gold lace, opening like long slashes from throat to
+waist, and from arm-scye to wrist over fine white lawn, and with extra
+slashes at various spots, with the full white lawn of his “habit-shirt”
+pulled out in pretty puffs. His hair is long and curling. General
+Waller of Cromwell’s army, here shown, is the very figure of a
+Cavalier, as handsome a face, with as flowing hair and careful
+mustache, as the Duke of Buckingham, or Mr. Endymion Porter,—that
+courtier of courtiers,—gentleman of the bed-chamber to Charles I.
+Cornet Joyce, the sturdy personal custodian of the king in captivity,
+came the closest to being a Roundhead; but even his hair covers his ear
+and hangs over his collar—it would be deemed over-long to-day.
+
+
+Sir William Waller. Sir William Waller.
+
+Here is Lord Fairfax in plain buff coat slightly laced and slashed with
+white satin. Fanshawe dressed—so his wife tells us—in “phillamot
+brocade with 9 Laces every one as broad as my hand, a little gold and
+silver lace between and both of curious workmanship.” And his suit was
+gay with scarlet knots of ribbon; and his legs were cased in white silk
+hose over scarlet ones; and he wore black shoes with scarlet shoe
+strings and scarlet roses and garters; and his gloves were trimmed with
+scarlet ribbon—a fine “gaybeseen”—to use Chaucer’s words.
+
+Surprising to all must be the portrait of that Puritan figurehead, the
+Earl of Leicester; for he wears an affected double-peaked beard, a
+great ruff, feathered hat, richly jewelled hatband and collar, and an
+ear-ring. Shown here is the dress he wore when masquerading in Holland
+as general during the Netherland insurrection against Philip II.
+
+It is strange to find even writers of intelligence calling Winthrop and
+Endicott Roundheads. A recent magazine article calls Myles Standish a
+Roundhead captain. That term was not invented till a score of years
+after Myles Standish landed at Plymouth. A political song printed in
+1641 is entitled _The Character of a Roundhead_. It begins:—
+
+“What creature’s this with his short hairs
+His little band and huge long ears
+     That this new faith hath founded?
+
+“The Puritans were never such,
+The saints themselves had ne’er as much.
+     Oh, such a knave’s a Roundhead.”
+
+
+
+
+The right Honourable Ferdinand Lord Fairfax. The right Honourable
+Ferdinand—Lord Fairfax.
+
+Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson was the wife of a Puritan gentleman, who was
+colonel in Cromwell’s army, and one of the regicide judges. She wrote a
+history of her husband’s life, which is one of the most valuable
+sources of information of the period wherein he lived, the day when
+Cromwell and Hampden acted, when Laud and Strafford suffered. In this
+history she tells explicitly of the early use of the word Roundhead:—
+
+
+“The name of Roundhead coming so opportunely, I shall make a little
+digression to show how it came up: When Puritanism grew a faction, the
+Zealots distinguished themselves by several affectations of habit,
+looks and words, which had it been a real forsaking of vanity would
+have been most commendable. Among other affected habits, few of the
+Puritans, what degree soever they were, wore their hair long enough to
+cover their ears; and the ministers and many others cut it close around
+their heads with so many little peaks—as was something ridiculous to
+behold. From this custom that name of Roundhead became the scornful
+term given to the whole Parliament Party, whose army indeed marched out
+as if they had only been sent out till their hair was grown. Two or
+three years later any stranger that had seen them would have inquired
+the meaning of that name.”
+
+
+It is a pleasure to point out Colonel Hutchinson as a Puritan, though
+there was little in his dress to indicate the significance of such a
+name for him, and certainly he was not a Roundhead, with his light
+brown hair “softer than the finest silk and curling in great loose
+rings at the ends—a very fine, thick-set head of hair.” He loved
+dancing, fencing, shooting, and hawking; he was a charming musician; he
+had judgment in painting, sculpture, architecture, and the “liberal
+arts.” He delighted in books and in gardening and in all rarities; in
+fact, he seemed to care for everything that was “lovely and of good
+report.” “He was wonderfully neat, cleanly and genteel in his habit,
+and had a very good fancy in it, but he left off very early the wearing
+of anything very costly, yet in his plainest habit appeared very much a
+gentleman.” Such dress was the _best_ of Puritan dress; just as he was
+the best type of a Puritan. He was cheerful, witty, happy, eager,
+earnest, vivacious—a bit quick in temper, but kind, generous, and good.
+He was, in truth, what is best of all,—a noble, consistent, Christian
+gentleman.
+
+Those who have not acquired from accurate modern portrayal and
+representation their whole notion of the dress of the early colonists
+have, I find, a figure in their mind’s eye something like that of
+Matthew Hopkins the witch-finder. Hogarth’s illustrations of Hudibras
+give similar Puritans. Others have figures, dull and plainly dressed,
+from the pictures in some book of saints and martyrs of the Puritan
+church, such as were found in many an old New England home. _My_
+Puritan is reproduced here. I have found in later years that this
+Alderman Abel of my old print was quite a character in English history;
+having been given with Cousin Kilvert the monopoly of the sale of wines
+at retail, one of those vastly lucrative privileges which brought forth
+the bitterest denunciations from Sir John Eliot, who regarded them as
+an infamous imposition upon the English people. The site of Abel’s
+house had once belonged to Cardinal Wolsey; and it was popularly
+believed that Abel found and used treasure of the cardinal which had
+been hidden in his cellar. He was called the “Main Projector and
+Patentee for the Raising of Wines.” Unfortunately for my theory that
+Abel was a typical Puritan, he was under the protection of King Charles
+I; and Cromwell’s Parliament put an end to his monopoly in 1641, and
+his dress was simply that of any dull, uninteresting, commonplace, and
+common Englishman of his day.
+
+
+Alderman Abell and Richard Kilvert, the two maine Projectors for Wine,
+1641. Mr. Alderman Abell and Richard Kilvert, the two maine Projectors
+for Wine, 1641.
+
+Another New England man who is constantly called a Roundhead is Cotton
+Mather; with equal inconsequence and inaccuracy he is often referred
+to, and often stigmatized, as “the typical Puritan colonist,” a narrow,
+bigoted Gospeller. I have open before me an editorial from a reputable
+newspaper which speaks of Cotton Mather dressed in dingy, skimped,
+sad-colored garments “shivering in the icy air of Plymouth as he
+uncovered his close-clipped Round-head when he landed on the Rock from
+the _Mayflower_.” He was in fact born in America; he was not a Plymouth
+man, and did not die till more than a century after the landing of the
+_Mayflower_, and, of course, he was not a Roundhead. Another drawing of
+Cotton Mather, in a respectable magazine, depicts him with clipped
+hair, emaciated, clad in clumsy garments, mean and haggard in
+countenance, raising a bundle of rods over a cowering Indian child.
+Now, Cotton Mather was distinctly handsome, as may be seen from his
+picture here, which displays plainly the full, sensual features of the
+Cotton family, shown in John Cotton’s portrait. And the Roundhead is in
+an elegant, richly curled periwig, such as was fashionable a hundred
+years after the _Mayflower_. And though he had the tormenting Puritan
+conscience he was not wholly a Puritan, for the world, the flesh, and
+the devil were strong in him. He was much more gentle and tender than
+men of that day were in general; especially with all children, white
+and Indian, and was most conscientious in his relations both to Indians
+and negroes. And in those days of universal whippings by English and
+American schoolmasters and parents, he spoke in no uncertain voice his
+horror and disapproval of the rod for children, and never countenanced
+or permitted any whippings.
+
+
+Reverend John Cotton. Reverend John Cotton.
+
+
+Reverend Cotton Mather. Reverend Cotton Mather.
+
+There was certainly great diversity in dress among those who called
+themselves Puritans. Some amusing stories are told of that strange,
+restless, brilliant creature, the major-general of Cromwell’s
+army,—Harrison. When the first-accredited ambassador sent by any great
+nation to the new republic came to London, there was naturally some
+stir as to the wisdom of certain details of demeanor and dress. It was
+a ticklish time. The new Commonwealth must command due honor, and the
+day before the audience a group of Parliament gentlemen, among them
+Colonel Hutchinson and one who was afterwards the Earl of Warwick, were
+seated together when Harrison came in and spoke of the coming audience,
+and admonished them all—and Hutchinson in particular, “who was in a
+habit pretty rich but grave and none other than he usually wore”—that,
+now nations sent to them, they must “shine in wisdom and piety, not in
+gold and silver and worldly bravery which did not become saints.” And
+he asked them not to appear before the ambassador in “gorgeous habits.”
+So the colonel—though he was not “convinced of any misbecoming bravery
+in a suit of sad-coloured cloth trimmed with gold and with silver
+points and buttons”—still conformed to his comrade’s opinion, and
+appeared as did all the other gentlemen in solemn, handsome black. When
+who should come in, “all in red and gold-a,”—in scarlet coat and cloak
+laden with gold and silver, “the coat so covered with clinquant one
+could scarcely discern the ground,” and in this gorgeous and glittering
+habit seat himself alone just under the speaker’s chair and receive the
+specially low respects and salutes of all in the ambassador’s
+train,—who should thus blazon and brazon and bourgeon forth but
+Harrison! I presume, though Hutchinson was a Puritan and a saint, he
+was a bit chagrined at his black suit of garments, and a bit angered at
+being thus decoyed; and it touched Madam Hutchinson deeply.
+
+But Hutchinson had his turn to wear gay clothes. A great funeral was to
+be given to Ireton, who was his distant kinsman; yet Cromwell, from
+jealousy, sent no bidding or mourning suit to him. A general invitation
+and notice was given to the whole assembly, and on the hour of the
+funeral, within the great, gloomy state-chamber, hung in funereal
+black, and filled with men in trappings of woe, covered with great
+black cloaks with long, weeping hatbands drooping to the ground, in
+strode Hutchinson; this time he was in scarlet and cliquante, “such as
+he usually wore,”—so wrote his wife,—astonishing the eyes of all,
+especially the diplomats and ambassadors who were present, who probably
+deemed him of so great station as to be exempt from wearing black. The
+master of ceremonies timidly regretted to him, in hesitating words,
+that no mourning had been sent—it had been in some way overlooked; the
+General could not, thus unsuitably dressed, follow the coffin in the
+funeral procession—it would not look well; the master of ceremonies
+would be rebuked—all which proved he did not know Hutchinson, for
+follow he could, and would, and did, in this rich dress. And he walked
+through the streets and stood in the Abbey, with his scarlet cloak
+flaunting and fluttering like a gay tropical bird in the midst of a
+slowly flying, sagging flock of depressed black crows,—you have seen
+their dragging, heavy flight,—and was looked upon with admiration and
+love by the people as a splendid and soldierly figure.
+
+We must not forget that the years which saw the settlement of Salem and
+Boston were not under the riot of dress countenanced by James. Charles
+I was then on the throne; and the rich and beautiful dress worn by that
+king had already taken shape.
+
+There has been an endeavor made to attribute this dress to the
+stimulus, to the influence, of Puritan feeling. Possibly some of the
+reaction against the absurdities of Elizabeth and James may have helped
+in the establishment of this costume; but I think the excellent taste
+of Charles and especially of his queen, Henrietta Maria, who succeeded
+in making women’s dress wholly beautiful, may be thanked largely for
+it. And we may be grateful to the painter Van Dyck; for he had not only
+great taste as to dress, and genius in presenting his taste to the
+public, but he had a singular appreciation of the pictorial quality of
+dress and a power of making dress appropriate to the wearer. And he
+fully understood its value in indicating character.
+
+Since Van Dyck formed and painted these fine and elegant modes, they
+are known by his name,—it is the Van Dyck costume. We have ample
+exposition of it, for his portraits are many. It is told that he
+painted forty portraits of the king and thirty of the queen, and many
+of the royal children. There are nine portraits by his hand of the Earl
+of Strafford, the king’s friend. He painted the Earl of Arundel seven
+times. Venetia, Lady Digby, had four portraits in one year. He painted
+all persons of fashion, many of distinction and dignity, and some with
+no special reason for consideration or portrayal.
+
+The Van Dyck dress is a gallant dress, one fitted for a court, not for
+everyday life, nor for a strenuous life, though men of such aims wore
+it. The absurdity of Elizabeth’s day is lacking; the richness remains.
+It is a dress distinctly expressive of dignity. The doublet is of some
+rich, silken stuff, usually satin or velvet. The sleeves are loose and
+graceful; at one time they were slashed liberally to show the fine,
+full, linen shirt-sleeve. Here are a number of slashed sleeves, from
+portraits of the day, painted by Van Dyck. The cuffs of the doublet are
+often turned back deeply to show embroidered shirt cuffs or lace
+ruffles, or even linen undersleeves. The collar of the doublet was
+wholly covered with a band or collar of rich lace and lawn, or all
+lace; this usually with the pointed edges now termed Vandykes. Band
+strings of ribbon or “snake-bone” were worn. These often had jewelled
+tassels. Rich tassels of pearl were the favorite. A short cloak was
+thrown gracefully on one shoulder or hung at the back. Knee-breeches
+edged with points or fringes or ribbons met the tops of wide, high
+boots of Spanish leather, which often also turned over with ruffles of
+leather or lace. Within-doors silken hose and shoes with rich
+shoe-roses of lace or ribbon were worn. A great hat, broad-leafed,
+often of Flemish beaver, had a splendid feather and jewelled hatband. A
+rich sword-belt and gauntleted and fringed gloves were added. A peaked
+beard with small upturned mustache formed a triangle, with the mouth in
+the centre, as in the portrait of General Waller. The hair curled
+loosely in the neck, and was rarely, I think, powdered.
+
+
+Slashed Sleeves Slashed Sleeves, _temp_. Charles I.
+
+Other great painters besides Van Dyck were fortunately in England at
+the time this dress was worn, and the king was a patron and appreciator
+of art. Hence they were encouraged in their work; and every form and
+detail of this beautiful costume is fully depicted for us.
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS
+
+
+_“Nowe my deare hearte let me parlye a little with thee about trifles,
+for when I am present with thee, my speeche is preiudiced by thy
+presence which drawes my mind from itselfe; I suppose now, upon thy
+unkles cominge there wilbe advisinge &; counsellinge of all hands; and
+amongst many I know there wilbe some, that wilbe provokinge thee, in
+these indifferent things, as matter of apparell, fashions and other
+circumstances; I hould it a rule of Christian wisdome in all things to
+follow the soberest examples; I confesse that there be some ornaments
+which for Virgins and Knights Daughters &;c may be comly and
+tollerrable which yet in soe great a change as thine is, may well
+admitt a change allso; I will medle with noe particulars neither doe I
+thinke it shall be needfull; thine own wisdome and godliness shall
+teach thee sufficiently what to doe in such things. I knowe thou wilt
+not grieve me for trifles. Let me intreate thee (my sweet Love) to take
+all in good part.”_
+
+—JOHN WINTHROP TO MARGARET TYNDALE, 1616.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS
+
+
+I
+
+
+have expressed a doubt that the dress of Cavalier and Puritan varied as
+much as has been popularly believed; I feel sure that the dress of
+Puritan women did not differ from the attire of women of quiet life who
+remained in the Church of England; nor did it vary materially either in
+form or quality from the attire of the sensible followers of court
+life. It simply did not extend to the extreme of the mode in gay color,
+extravagance, or grotesqueness. In the first severity of revolt over
+the dissoluteness of English life which had shown so plainly in the
+extravagance and absurdity of English court dress, many persons of deep
+thought (especially men), both of the Church of England and of the
+Puritan faith, expressed their feeling by a change in their dress.
+Doubtless also in some the extremity of feeling extended to fanaticism.
+It is always thus in reforms; the slow start becomes suddenly a violent
+rush which needs to be retarded and moderated, and it always is
+moderated. I have referred to one exhibition of bigotry in regard to
+dress which is found in the annals of Puritanism; it is detailed in the
+censure and attempt at restraint of the dress of Madam Johnson, the
+wife of the Rev. Francis Johnson, the pastor of the exiles to Holland.
+
+There is a tradition that Parson Johnson was one of the Marprelate
+brotherhood, who certainly deserved the imprisonment they received,
+were it only for their ill-spelling and ill-use of their native tongue.
+The Marprelate pamphlet before me as I write had an author who could
+not even spell the titles of the prelates it assailed; but called them
+“parsones, fyckers and currats,” the latter two names being intended
+for vicars and curates. The story of Madam Johnson’s revolt, and her
+triumph, is preserved to us in such real and earnest language, and was
+such a vital thing to the actors in the little play, that it seems
+almost irreverent to regard it as a farce, yet none to-day could read
+of it without a sense of absurdity, and we may as well laugh frankly
+and freely at the episode.
+
+When the protagonist of this Puritan comedy entered the stage, she was
+a widow—Tomison or Thomasine Boyes, a “warm” widow, as the saying of
+the day ran, that is, warm with a comfortable legacy of ready money.
+She was a young widow, and she was handsome. At any rate, it was
+brought up against her when events came to a climax; it was testified
+in the church examination or trial that “men called her a bouncing
+girl,” as if she could help that! Husband Boyes had been a haberdasher,
+and I fancy she got both her finery and her love of finery in his shop.
+And it was told with all the petty terms of scandal-mongering that
+might be heard in a small shop in a small English town to-day; it was
+told very gravely that the “clarkes in the shop” compared her for her
+pride in apparel to the wife of the Bishop of London, and it was
+affirmed that she stood “gazing, braving, and vaunting in shop doores.”
+
+Now this special complaint against the Widow Boyes, that she stood
+braving and vaunting in shop doors, was not a far-fetched attack
+brought as a novelty of tantalizing annoyance; it touches in her what
+was one of the light carriages of the day, which were so detestable to
+sober and thoughtful folk, an odious custom specified by Stubbes in his
+_Anatomy of Abuses_. He writes thus of London women, the wives of
+merchants:—
+
+
+“Othersome spend the greater part of the daie in sittyng at the doore,
+to shewe their braveries, to make knowen their beauties, to behold the
+passers by; to view the coast, to see fashions, and to acquaint
+themselves of the bravest fellows—for, if not for these causes, I know
+no other causes why they should sitt at their doores—as many doe from
+Morning till Noon, from Noon till Night.”
+
+
+Other writers give other reasons for this “vaunting.” We learn that
+“merchants’ wives had seats built a purpose” to sit in, in order to
+lure customers. Marston in _The Dutch Courtesan_ says:—
+
+
+“His wife’s a proper woman—that she is! She has been as proper a woman
+as any in the Chepe. She paints now, and yet she keeps her husband’s
+old customers to him still. In troth, a fine-fac’d wife in a
+wainscot-carved seat, is a worthy ornament to any tradesman’s shop. And
+an attractive one I’le warrant.”
+
+
+This handsome, buxom, bouncing widow fell in love with Pastor Johnson,
+and he with her, while he was “a prisoner in the Clink,” he having been
+thrown therein by the Archbishop of Canterbury for his persistent
+preaching of Puritanism. Many of his friends “thought this not a good
+match” for him at any time; and all deemed it ill advised for a man in
+prison to pledge himself in matrimony to any one. And soon zealous and
+meddlesome Brother George Johnson took a hand in advice and counsel,
+with as high a hand as if Francis had been a child instead of a man of
+thirty-two, and a man of experience as well, and likewise older than
+George.
+
+George at first opened warily, saying in his letters that “he was very
+loth to contrary his brother;” still Brother Francis must be sensible
+that this widow was noted for her pride and vanity, her light and
+garish dress, and that it would give great offence to all Puritans if
+he married her, and “it (the vanity and extravagance, etc.) should not
+be refrained.” There was then some apparent concession and yielding on
+the widow’s part, for George for a time “sett down satysfyed”; when
+suddenly, to his “great grief” and discomfiture, he found that his
+brother had been “inveigled and overcarried,” and the sly twain had
+been married secretly in prison.
+
+It must be remembered that this was in the last years of Elizabeth’s
+reign, in 1596, when the laws were rigid in attempts at limitation of
+dress, as I shall note later in this chapter. But there were certain
+privileges of large estate, even if the owner were of mean birth; and
+Madam Johnson certainly had money enough to warrant her costly apparel,
+and in ready cash also, from Husband Boyes. But in the first good
+temper and general good will of the honeymoon she “obeyed”; she
+promised to dress as became her husband’s condition, which would
+naturally mean much simpler attire. He was soon in very bad case for
+having married without permission of the archbishop, and was still more
+closely confined within-walls; but even while he lingered in prison,
+Brother George saw with anguish that the bride’s short obedience had
+ended. She appeared in “more garish and proud apparell” than he had
+ever before seen upon the widow,—naturally enough for a bride,—even the
+bride of a bridegroom in prison; but he “dealt with her that she would
+refrain”—poor, simple man! She dallied on, tantalizing him and daring
+him, and she was very “bold in inviting proof,” but never quitting her
+bridal finery for one moment; so George read to her with emphasis, as a
+final and unconquerable weapon, that favorite wail of all men who would
+check or reprove an extravagant woman, namely, Isaiah iii, 16 _et
+seq_., the chapter called by Mercy Warren
+
+“... An antiquated page
+That taught us the threatenings of an Hebrew sage
+Gainst wimples, mantles, curls and crisping pins.”
+
+
+I wonder how many Puritan parsons have preached fatuously upon those
+verses! how many defiant women have had them read to them—and how many
+meek ones! I knew a deacon’s wife in Worcester, some years ago, who
+asked for a new pair of India-rubber overshoes, and in pious response
+her frugal partner slapped open the great Bible at this favorite third
+chapter of the lamenting and threatening prophet, and roared out to his
+poor little wife, sitting meekly before him in calico gown and checked
+apron, the lesson of the haughty daughters of Zion walking with
+stretched-forth necks and tinkling feet; of their chains and bracelets
+and mufflers; their bonnets and rings and rich jewels; their mantles
+and wimples and crisping-pins; their fair hoods and veils—oh, how she
+must have longed for an Oriental husband!
+
+Petulant with his new sister-in-law’s successful evasions of his
+readings, his letters, and his advice, his instructions, his pleadings,
+his commands, and “full of sauce and zeal” like Elnathan, George
+Johnson, in emulation of the prophet Isaiah, made a list of the
+offences of this London “daughter of Zion,” wrote them out, and
+presented them to the congregation. She wore “3, 4, or even 5 gold
+rings at one time” Then likewise “her Busks and ye Whalebones at her
+Brest were soe manifest that many of ye Saints were greeved thereby.”
+She was asked to “pull off her Excessive Deal of Lace.” And she was
+fairly implored to “exchange ye Schowish Hatt for a sober Taffety or
+Felt.” She was ordered severely “to discontinue Whalebones,” and to
+“quit ye great starcht Ruffs, ye Muske, and ye Rings.” And not to wear
+her bodice tied to her petticoat “as men do their doublets to their
+hose contrary to I Thessalonians, V, 22.” And a certain stomacher or
+neckerchief he plainly called “abominable and loathsome.” A “schowish
+Velvet Hood,” such as only “the richest, finest and proudest sort
+should use,” was likewise beyond endurance, almost beyond forgiveness,
+and other “gawrish gear gave him grave greevance.”
+
+
+Mrs. William Clark. Mrs. William Clark.
+
+But here the young husband interfered, as it was high time he should;
+and he called his brother “fantasticall, fond, ignorant,
+anabaptisticall and such like,” though what the poor Anabaptists had to
+do with such dress quarrels I know not. George’s cautious reference in
+his letter to the third verse of the third chapter of Jeremiah made the
+parson call it “the Abhominablest Letter ever was written.” George, a
+bit frightened, answered pacificatorily that he noted of late that “the
+excessive lace upon the sleeve of her dress had a Cover drawn upon it;”
+that the stomacher was not “so gawrish, so low, and so spitz-fashioned
+as it was wont to be”; nor was her hat “so topishly set,”—and he
+expressed pious gladness at the happy change, “hoping more would
+follow,”—and for a time all did seem subdued. But soon another
+meddlesome young man became “greeved” (did ever any one hear of such a
+set of silly, grieving fellows?); and seeing “how heavily the young
+gentleman took it,” stupid George must interfere again, to be met this
+time very boldly by the bouncing girl herself, who, he writes sadly,
+answered him in a tone “very peert and coppet.” “Coppet” is a
+delightful old word which all our dictionaries have missed; it
+signifies impudent, saucy, or, to be precise, “sassy,” which we all
+know has a shade more of meaning. “Peert and coppet” is a delightful
+characterization. George refused to give the sad young complainer’s
+name, who must have been well ashamed of himself by this time, and was
+then reproached with being a “forestaller,” a “picker,” and a
+“quarrelous meddler”—and with truth.
+
+During the action of this farce, all had gone from London into exile in
+Holland. Then came the sudden trip to Newfoundland and the disastrous
+and speedy return to Holland again. And through the misfortunes and the
+exiles, the company drew more closely together, and gentle words
+prevailed; George was “sorie if he had overcarried himself”; Madam “was
+sure if it were to do now, she would not so wear it.” Still, she did
+not offer her martinet of a brother-in-law a room to lodge in in her
+house, though she had many rooms unused, and he needed shelter, whereat
+he whimpered much; and soon he was charging her again “with Muske as a
+sin” (musk was at that time in the very height of fashion in France)
+and cavilling at her unbearable “topish hat.” Then came long argument
+and sparring for months over “topishness,” which seems to have been
+deemed a most offensive term. They told its nature and being; they
+brought in Greek derivatives, and the pastor produced a syllogism upon
+the word. And they declared that the hat in itself was not topish, but
+only became so when she wore it, she being the wife of a preacher; and
+they disputed over velvet and vanity; they bickered over topishness and
+lightness; they wrangled about lawn coives and busks in a way that was
+sad to read. The pastor argued soundly, logically, that both coives and
+busks might be lawfully used; whereat one of his flock, Christopher
+Dickens, rose up promptly in dire fright and dread of future
+extravagance among the women-saints in the line of topish hats and
+coives and busks, and he “begged them not to speak so, and _so loud_,
+lest it should bring _many inconveniences among their wives_.” Finally
+the topish head-gear was demanded in court, which the parson declared
+was “offensive”; and so they bickered on till a most unseemly hour,
+till _ten o’clock at night_, as “was proved by the watchman and
+rattleman coming about.” Naturally they wished to go to bed at an early
+hour, for religious services began at nine; one of the complaints
+against the topish bride was that she was a “slug-a-bed,” flippantly
+refused to rise and have her house ordered and ready for the nine
+o’clock public service. The meetings were then held in the parson’s
+house, and held every day; which may have been one reason why the
+settlement grew poorer. It matters little what was said, or how it
+ended, since it did not disrupt and disband the Holland Pilgrims. For
+eleven years this stupid wrangling lasted; and it seemed imminent that
+the settlement would finish with a separation, and a return of many to
+England. Slight events have great power—this topish hat of a vain and
+pretty, a peert and coppet young Puritan bride came near to hindering
+and changing the colonization of America.
+
+
+Lady Mary Armine. Lady Mary Armine.
+
+I have related this episode at some length because its recounting makes
+us enter into the spirit of the first Separatist settlers. It shows us
+too that dress conquered zeal; it could not be “forborne” by entreaty,
+by reproof, by discipline, by threats, by example. An influence, or
+perhaps I should term it an echo, of this long quarrel is seen plainly
+by the thoughtful mind in the sumptuary laws of the New World. Some of
+the articles of dress so dreaded, so discussed in Holland, still
+threatened the peace of Puritanical husbands in New England; they still
+dreaded many inconveniences. In 1634, the general court of
+Massachusetts issued this edict:—
+
+
+“That no person, man or woman, shall hereafter make or buy any
+Apparell, either Woolen, or Silk, or Linen, with any Lace on it,
+Silver, Gold, or Thread, under the penalty of forfeiture of said
+clothes. Also that no person either man or woman, shall make or buy any
+Slashed Clothes, other than one Slash in each Sleeve and another in the
+Back. Also all Cut-works, embroideries, or Needlework Caps, Bands or
+Rails, are forbidden hereafter to be made and worn under the aforesaid
+Penalty; also all gold or silver Girdles Hat bands, Belts, Ruffs,
+Beaver hats are prohibited to be bought and worn hereafter.”
+
+
+Fines were stated, also the amount of estate which released the
+dress-wearer from restriction. Liberty was given to all to wear out the
+apparel which they had on hand except “immoderate great sleeves,
+slashed apparell, immoderate great rails, and long wings”—these being
+beyond endurance.
+
+In 1639 “immoderate great breeches, knots of riban, broad shoulder
+bands and rayles, silk roses, double ruffles and capes” were forbidden
+to folk of low estate. Soon the court expressed its “utter detestation
+and dislike,” that men and women of “mean condition, education and
+calling” should take upon themselves “the garb of gentlemen” by wearing
+gold and silver lace, buttons and points at the knee, or “walk in great
+boots,” or women of the same low rank to wear silk or tiffany hoods or
+scarfs. There were likewise orders that no short sleeves should be worn
+“whereby the nakedness of the arms may be discovered”; women’s sleeves
+were not to be more than half an ell wide; long hair and immodest
+laying out of the hair and wearing borders of hair were abhorrent. Poor
+folk must not appear with “naked breasts and arms; or as it were
+pinioned with superstitious ribbons on hair and apparell.” Tailors who
+made garments for servants or children, richer than the garments of the
+parents or masters of these juniors, were to be fined. Similar laws
+were passed in Connecticut and Virginia. I know of no one being
+“psented” under these laws in Virginia, but in Connecticut and
+Massachusetts both men and women were fined. In 1676, in Northampton,
+thirty-six young women at one time were brought up for overdress
+chiefly in hoods; and an amusing entry in the court record is that one
+of them, Hannah Lyman, appeared in the very hood for which she was
+fined; and was thereupon censured for “wearing silk in a fflonting
+manner, in an offensive way, not only before but when she stood
+Psented. Not only in Ordinary but Extraordinary times.” These girls
+were all fined; but six years later, when a stern magistrate attempted
+a similar persecution, the indictments were quashed.
+
+
+The Tub-preacher. The Tub-preacher.
+
+It is not unusual to find the careless observer or the superficial
+reader—and writer—commenting upon the sumptuary laws of the New World
+as if they were extraordinary and peculiar. There appeared in a recent
+American magazine a long rehearsal of the unheard-of presumption of
+Puritan magistrates in their prohibition of certain articles of dress.
+This writer was evidently wholly ignorant of the existence of similar
+laws in England, and even of like laws in Virginia, but railed against
+Winthrop and Endicott as monsters of Puritanical arrogance and
+impudence.
+
+In truth, however, such laws had existed not only in France and
+England, but since the days of the old Locrian legislation, when it was
+ordered that no woman should go attended with more than one maid in the
+street “unless she were drunk.” Ancient Rome and Sparta were surrounded
+by dress restrictions which were broken just as were similar ones in
+more modern times. The Roman could wear a robe but of a single color;
+he could wear in embroideries not more than half an ounce of gold; and,
+with what seems churlishness he was forbidden to ride in a carriage. At
+that time, just as in later days, dress was made to emphasize class
+distinction, and the clergy joined with the magistrates in denouncing
+extravagant dress in both men and women. The chronicles of the monks
+are ever chiding men for their peaked shoes, deep sleeves and curled
+locks like women, and Savonarola outdid them all in severity. The
+English kings and queens, jealous of the rich dress of their opulent
+subjects, multiplied restrictions, and some very curious anecdotes
+exist of the calm assumption by both Elizabeth and Mary to their own
+wardrobe of the rich finery of some lady at the court who displayed
+some new and too becoming fancy.
+
+
+Old Venice Point Lace. Old Venice Point Lace.
+
+Adam Smith declared it “an act of highest impertinence and presumption
+for kings and rulers to pretend to watch over the earnings and
+expenditure of private persons,” nevertheless this public interference
+lingered long, especially under monarchies.
+
+These sumptuary laws of New England followed in spirit and letter
+similar laws in England. Winthrop had seen the many apprentices who ran
+through London streets, dressed under laws as full of details of dress
+as is a modern journal of the modes. For instance, the apprentice’s
+head-covering must be a small, flat, round cap, called often a bonnet—a
+hat like a pie-dish. The facing of the hat could not exceed three
+inches in breadth in the head; nor could the hat with band and facing
+cost over five shillings. His band or collar could have no lace edge;
+it must be of linen not over five shillings an ell in price; and could
+have no other work or ornament save “a plain hem and one stitch”—which
+was a hemstitch. If he wore a ruff, it must not be over three inches
+wide before it was gathered and set into the “stock.” The collar of his
+doublet could have neither “point, well-bone or plait,” but must be
+made “close and comely.” The stuff of his doublet and breeches could
+not cost over two shillings and sixpence a yard. It could be either
+cloth, kersey, fustian, sackcloth, canvas, or “English stuff”; or
+leather could be used. The breeches were generally of the shape known
+as “round slops.” His stockings could be knit or of cloth; but his
+shoes could have no polonia heels. His hair was to be cut close, with
+no “tuft or lock.”
+
+Queen Elizabeth stood no nonsense in these things; finding that London
+’prentices had adopted a certain white stitching for their collars, she
+put a stop to this mild finery by ordering the first transgressor to be
+whipped publicly in the hall of his company. These same laws, tinkered
+and altered to suit occasions, appear for many years in English
+records, for years after New England’s sumptuary laws were silenced.
+
+Notwithstanding Hannah Lyman and the thirty-six vain Northampton girls,
+we do not on the whole hear great complaint of extravagance in dress or
+deportment. At any rate none were called bouncing girls. The portraits
+of men or women certainly show no restraint as to richness in dress.
+Their sumptuary laws were of less use to their day than to ours, for
+they do reveal to us what articles of dress our forbears wore.
+
+While the Massachusetts magistrates were fussing a little over woman’s
+dress, the parsons, as a whole, were remarkably silent. Of course two
+or three of them could not refrain from announcing a text from Isaiah
+iii, 16 _et seq_., and enlarging upon the well-worn wimples and nose
+jewels, and bells on their feet, which were as much out of fashion in
+Massachusetts then as now. It is such a well-rounded, ringing, colorful
+arraignment of woman’s follies you couldn’t expect a parson to give it
+up. Every evil predicted of the prophet was laid at the door of these
+demure Puritan dames,—fire and war, and caterpillars, and even
+baldness, which last was really unjust. Solomon Stoddard preached on
+the “Intolerable Pride in the Plantations in Clothes and Hair,” that
+his parishioners “drew iniquity with a cord of vanity and sin with a
+cart-rope.” The apostle Paul also furnished ample texts for the Puritan
+preacher.
+
+
+Rebecca Rawson. Rebecca Rawson.
+
+In the eleventh chapter of Corinthians wise Paul delivered some
+sentences of exhortation, of reproof, of warning to Corinthian women
+which I presume he understood and perhaps Corinthian dames did, but
+which have been a dire puzzle since to parsons and male members of
+their congregations. (I cannot think that women ever bothered much
+about his words.) For instance, Archbishop Latimer, in one of the
+cheerful, slangy rallies to his hearers which he called sermons, quotes
+Paul’s sentence that a woman ought to have a power on her head, and
+construes positively that a power is a French hood. This is certainly a
+somewhat surprising notion, but I presume he knew. However, Roger
+Williams deemed a power a veil; and being somewhat dictatorial in his
+words, albeit the tenderest of creatures in his heart, he bade Salem
+women come to meeting in a veil, telling them they should come like
+Sarah of old, wearing this veil as a token of submission to their
+husbands. The text saith this exactly, “A woman ought to have power on
+her head because of the angels,” which seems to me one of those
+convenient sayings of Paul and others which can be twisted to many, to
+any meanings, even to Latimer’s French hood. Old John Cotton, of
+course, found ample Scripture to prove Salem women should not wear
+veils, and so here in this New World, as in the Holland sojourn, the
+head-covering of the mothers rent in twain the meetings of the fathers,
+while the women wore veils or no veils, French hoods or beaver hats, in
+despite of Paul’s opinions and their husbands’ constructions of his
+opinions.
+
+An excellent description of the Puritan women of a dissenting
+congregation is in _Hudibras Redivivus;_ it reads:—
+
+“The good old dames among the rest
+Were all most primitively drest
+In stiffen-bodyed russet gowns
+And on their heads old steeple crowns
+With pristine pinners next their faces
+Edged round with ancient scallop-laces,
+Such as, my antiquary says,
+Were worn in old Queen Bess’s days,
+In ruffs; and fifty other ways
+Their wrinkled necks were covered o’er
+With whisks of lawn by granmarms wore.”
+
+
+The “old steeple crowns” over “pristine pinners” were not peculiar to
+the Puritans. There was a time, in the first years of the seventeenth
+century, when many Englishwomen wore steeple-crowned hats with costly
+hatbands. We find them in pictures of women of the court, as well as
+upon the heads of Puritans. I have a dozen prints and portraits of
+Englishwomen in rich dress with these hats. The Quaker Tub-preacher,
+shown here, wears one. Perhaps the best known example to Americans may
+be seen in the portrait of Pocahontas here.
+
+Authentic portraits of American women who came in the _Mayflower_ or in
+the first ships to the Massachusetts Bay settlement, there are none to
+my knowledge. Some exist which are doubtless of that day, but cannot be
+certified. One preserved in Connecticut in the family of Governor Eaton
+shows a brown old canvas like a Rembrandt. The subject is believed to
+be of the Yale family, and the chief and most distinct feature of dress
+is the ruff.
+
+It was a time of change both of men’s and women’s neckwear. A few older
+women clung to the ruffs of their youth; younger women wore bands,
+falling-bands, falls, rebatoes, falling-whisks and whisks, the “fifty
+other ways” which could be counted everywhere. Carlyle says:—
+
+
+“There are various traceable small threads of relation, interesting
+reciprocities and mutabilities connecting the poor young Infant, New
+England, with its old Puritan mother and her affairs, which ought to be
+disentangled, to be made conspicuous by the Infant herself now she has
+grown big.”
+
+
+These traceable threads of relation are ever of romantic interest to
+me, and even when I refer to the dress of English folk I linger with
+pleasure with those whose lives were connected even by the smallest
+thread with the Infant, New England. One such thread of connection was
+in the life of Lady Mary Armine; so I choose to give her picture here,
+to illustrate the dress, if not of a New Englander, yet of one of New
+England’s closest friends. She was a noble, high-minded English
+gentlewoman, who gave “even to her dying day” to the conversion of poor
+tawny heathen of New England. A churchwoman by open profession, she was
+a Puritan in her sympathies, as were many of England’s best hearts and
+souls who never left the Church of England. She gave in one gift £500
+to families of ministers who had been driven from their pulpits in
+England. The Nipmuck schools at Natick and Hassamanesit (near Grafton)
+were founded under her patronage. The life of this “Truly Honourable,
+Very Aged and Singularly Pious Lady who dyed 1675,” was written as a
+“pattern to Ladies.” Her long prosy epitaph, after enumerating the
+virtues of many of the name of Mary, concludes thus:—
+
+“The Army of such Ladies so Divine
+This Lady said ‘I’ll follow, they Ar-mine.’
+Lady Elect! in whom there did combine
+So many Maries, might well say All Ar-mine.”
+
+
+A pun was a Puritan’s one jocularity; and he would pun even in an
+epitaph.
+
+It will be seen that Lady Mary Armine wears the straight collar or
+band, and the black French hood which was the forerunner, then the
+rival, and at last the survivor of the “sugar-loaf” beaver or felt
+hat,—a hood with a history, which will have a chapter for the telling
+thereof. Lady Mary wears a peaked widow’s cap under her hood; this also
+is a detail of much interest.
+
+Another portrait of this date is of Mrs. Clark (see here). This has two
+singular details; namely, a thumb-ring, which was frequently owned but
+infrequently painted, and a singular bracelet, which is accurately
+described in the verse of Herrick, written at that date:—
+
+“I saw about her spotless wrist
+Of blackest silk a curious twist
+Which circumvolving gently there
+Enthralled her arm as prisoner.”
+
+
+I may say in passing that I have seen in portraits knots of narrow
+ribbon on the wrists, both of men and women, and I am sure they had
+some mourning significance, as did the knot of black on the left arm of
+the queen of King James of England.
+
+We have in the portrait shown as a frontispiece an excellent
+presentment of the dress of the Puritan woman of refinement; the dress
+worn by the wives of Winthrop, Endicott, Leverett, Dudley, Saltonstall,
+and other gentlemen of Salem and Boston and Plymouth. We have also the
+dress worn by her little child about a year old. This portrait is of
+Madam Padishal. She was a Plymouth woman; and we know from the
+inventories of estates that there were not so many richly dressed women
+in Plymouth as in Boston and Salem. This dress of Madam Padishal’s is
+certainly much richer than the ordinary attire of Plymouth dames of
+that generation.
+
+This portrait has been preserved in Plymouth in the family of Judge
+Thomas, from whom it descended to the present owner. Madam Padishal was
+young and handsome when this portrait was painted. Her black velvet
+gown is shaped just like the gown of Madam Rawson (shown here), of
+Madam Stoddard (shown here), both Boston women; and of the English
+ladies of her times. It is much richer than that of Lady Mary Armine or
+Mrs. Clark.
+
+The gown of Madam Padishal is varied pleasingly from that of Lady Mary
+Armine, in that the body is low-necked, and the lace whisk is worn over
+the bare neck. The pearl necklace and ear-rings likewise show a more
+frivolous spirit than that of the English dame.
+
+Another Plymouth portrait of very rich dress, that of Elizabeth Paddy,
+Mrs. John Wensley, faces this page. The dress in this is a golden-brown
+brocade under-petticoat and satin overdress. The stiff, busked stays
+are equal to Queen Elizabeth’s. Revers at the edge of overdress and on
+the virago sleeves are now of flame color, a Spanish pink, but were
+originally scarlet, I am sure. The narrow stomacher is a beaded galloon
+with bright spangles and bugles. On the hair there shows above the ears
+a curious ornament which resembles a band of this galloon. There are
+traces of a similar ornament in Madam Rawson’s portrait (here); and
+Madam Stoddard’s (here) has some ornament over the ears. This may have
+been a modification of a contemporary Dutch head-jewel. The pattern of
+the lace of Elizabeth Paddy’s whisk is most distinct; it was a good
+costly Flemish parchment lace like Mrs. Padishal’s. She carries a fan,
+and wears rings, a pearl necklace, and ear-rings. I may say here that I
+have never seen other jewels than these,—a few rings, and necklace and
+ear-rings of pearl. Other necklaces seem never to have been worn.
+
+
+Elizabeth Paddy Wensley. Elizabeth Paddy Wensley.
+
+We cannot always trust that all the jewels seen in these portraits were
+real, or that the sitter owned as many as represented. A bill is in
+existence where a painter charged ten shillings extra for bestowing a
+gold and pearl necklace upon his complaisant subject. In this case,
+however, the extra charge was to pay for the gold paint or gold-leaf
+used for gilding the painted necklace. In the amusing letters of Lady
+Sussex to Lord Verney are many relating to her portrait by Van Dyck.
+She consented to the painting very unwillingly, saying, “it is money
+ill bestowed.” She writes:—
+
+
+“Put Sr Vandyke in remembrance to do my pictuer well. I have seen
+sables with the clasp of them set with diamonds—if those I am pictured
+in were done so, I think it would look very well in the pictuer. If Sr
+Vandyke thinks it would do well I pray desier him to do all the clawes
+so. I do not mene the end of the tales but only the end of the other
+peces, they call them clawes I think.”
+
+
+This gives a glimpse of a richness of detail in dress even beyond our
+own day, and one which I commend to some New York dame of vast wealth,
+to have the claws of her sables set with diamonds. She writes later in
+two letters of some weeks’ difference in date:—
+
+
+“I am glad you have prefalede with Sr Vandyke to make my pictuer
+leaner, for truly it was too fat. If he made it farer it will bee to my
+credit. I am glad you have made Sr Vandyke mind my dress.” ...
+
+
+“I am glad you have got home my pictuer, but I doubt he has made it
+lener or farer, but too rich in jewels, I am sure; but ’tis no great
+matter for another age to thinke mee richer than I was. I wish it could
+be mended in the face for sure ’tis very ugly. The pictuer is very
+ill-favourede, makes me quite out of love with myselfe, the face is so
+bigg and so fat it pleases mee not at all. It looks like one of the
+Windes puffinge—(but truly I think it is lyke the original).”
+
+
+I am struck by a likeness in workmanship in the portraits of these two
+Plymouth dames, and the portrait of Madam Stoddard (here), and
+succeeding illustrations of the Gibbes children. I do wish I knew
+whether these were painted by Tom Child—a painter-stainer and limner
+referred to by Judge Samuel Sewall in his Diary, who was living in
+Boston at that time. Perhaps we may find something, some day, to tell
+us this. I feel sure these were all painted in America, especially the
+portraits of the Gibbes children. A great many coats-of-arms were made
+in Boston at this time, and I expect the painter-stainer made them. All
+painting then was called coloring. A man would say in 1700, “Archer has
+set us a fine example of expense; he has colored his house, and has
+even laid one room in oils; he had the painter-stainer from Boston to
+do it—the man who limns faces, and does pieces, and tricks coats.” This
+was absolutely correct English, but we would hardly know that the man
+meant: “Archer has been extravagant enough; he has painted his house,
+and even painted the woodwork of one room. He had the artist from
+Boston to do the work—the painter of faces and full-lengths, who makes
+coats-of-arms.”
+
+It is hard to associate the very melancholy countenance shown here with
+a tradition of youth and beauty. Had the portrait been painted after a
+romance of sorrow came to this young maid, Rebecca Rawson, we could
+understand her expression; but it was painted when she was young and
+beautiful, so beautiful that she caught the eye and the wandering
+affections of a wandering gentleman, who announced himself as the son
+of one nobleman and kinsman of many others, and persuaded this daughter
+of Secretary Edward Rawson to marry him, which she did in the presence
+of forty witnesses. This young married pair then went to London, where
+the husband deserted Rebecca, who found to her horror that she was not
+his wife, as he had at least one English wife living. Alone and proud,
+Rebecca Rawson supported herself and her child by painting on glass;
+and when at last she set out to return to her childhood’s home, her
+life was lost at sea by shipwreck.
+
+The portrait of another Boston woman of distinction, Mrs. Simeon
+Stoddard, is given here. I will attempt to explain who Mrs. Simeon
+Stoddard was. She was Mr. Stoddard’s third widow and the third widow
+also of Peter Sergeant, builder of the Province House. Mr. Sergeant’s
+second wife had been married twice before she married him, and Simeon
+Stoddard’s father had four wives, all having been widows when he
+married them. Lastly, our Mrs. Simeon Stoddard, triumphing over death
+and this gallimaufry of Boston widows, took a fourth husband, the
+richest merchant in town, Samuel Shrimpton. Having had in all four
+husbands of wealth, and with them and their accumulation of widows
+there must have been as a widow’s mite an immense increment and
+inheritance of clothing (for clothing we know was a valued bequest), it
+is natural that we find her very richly dressed and with a distinctly
+haughty look upon her handsome face as becomes a conqueror both of men
+and widows.
+
+The straight, lace collar, such as is worn by Madam Padishal and shown
+in all portraits of this date, is, I believe, a whisk.
+
+The whisk was a very interesting and to us a puzzling article of
+attire, through the lack of precise description. It was at first called
+the falling-whisk, and is believed to have been simply the handsome,
+lace-edged, stiff, standing collar turned down over the shoulders. This
+collar had been both worn with the ruff and worn after it, and had been
+called a fall. Quicherat tells that the “whisk” came into universal use
+in 1644, when very low-necked gowns were worn, and that it was simply a
+kerchief or fichu to cover the neck.
+
+We have a few side-lights to help us, as to the shape of the whisk, in
+the form of advertisements of lost whisks. In one case (1662) it is “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 a
+strap hanging down before.” And in 1664 “A Tiffany Whisk with a great
+Lace down and a little one up, of large Flowers, and open work; with a
+Roul for the Head and Peak.” The roll and peak were part of a cap.
+
+
+Mrs. Simeon Stoddard. Mrs. Simeon Stoddard.
+
+These portraits show whisks in slightly varying forms. We have the
+“broad Lace lying down” in the handsome band at the shoulder; the
+“little lace standing up” was a narrow lace edging the whisk at the
+throat or just above the broad lace. Sometimes the whisk was wholly of
+mull or lawn. The whisk was at first wholly a part of woman’s attire,
+then for a time it was worn, in modified form, by men.
+
+Madam Pepys had a white whisk in 1660 and then a “noble lace whisk.”
+The same year she bought hers in London, Governor Berkeley paid half a
+pound for a tiffany whisk in Virginia. Many American women, probably
+all well-dressed women, had them. They are also seen on French
+portraits of the day. One of Madam de Maintenon shows precisely the
+same whisk as this of Madam Padishal’s, tied in front with tiny knots
+of ribbon.
+
+It will be noted that Madam Padishal has black lace frills about the
+upper portion of the sleeve, at the arm-scye. English portraits
+previous to the year 1660 seldom show black lace, and portraits are not
+many of the succeeding forty years which have black lace, so in this
+American portrait this detail is unusual. The wearing of black lace
+came into a short popularity in the year 1660, through compliment to
+the Spanish court upon the marriage of the young French king, Louis
+XIV, with the Infanta. The English court followed promptly. Pepys
+gloried in “our Mistress Stewart in black and white lace.” It interests
+me to see how quickly American women had the very latest court fashions
+and wore them even in uncourtlike America; such distinct novelties as
+black lace. Contemporary descriptions of dress are silent as to it by
+the year 1700, and it disappears from portraits until a century later,
+when we have pretty black lace collars, capes and fichus, as may be
+seen on the portraits of Mrs. Sedgwick, Mrs. Waldo, and others later in
+this book. These first black laces of 1660 are Bayeux laces, which are
+precisely like our Chantilly laces of to-day. This ancient piece of
+black lace has been carefully preserved in an old New York family. A
+portrait of the year 1690 has a black lace frill like the Maltese laces
+of to-day, with the same guipure pattern. But such laces were not made
+in Malta until after 1833. So it must have been a guipure lace of the
+kind known in England as parchment lace. This was made in the environs
+of Paris, but was seldom black, so this was a rare bit. It was
+sometimes made of gold and silver thread. Parchment lace was a favorite
+lace of Mary, Queen of Scots, and through her good offices was peddled
+in England by French lace-makers. The black moiré hoods of Italian
+women sometimes had a narrow edge of black lace, and a little was
+brought to England on French hoods, but as a whole black lace was
+seldom seen or known.
+
+
+Ancient Black Lace. Ancient Black Lace.
+
+An evidence of the widespread extent of fashions even in that day, a
+proof that English and French women and American women (when American
+women there were other than the native squaws) all dressed alike, is
+found in comparing portraits. An interesting one from the James Jackson
+Jarvis Collection is now in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. It is of an
+unknown woman and by an unknown artist, and is simply labelled “Of the
+School of Susteman.” But this unknown Frenchwoman has a dress as
+precisely like Madam Padishal’s and Madam Stoddard’s as are Doucet’s
+models of to-day like each other. All have the whisk of rich
+straight-edged lace, and the tiny knots of velvet ribbon. All have the
+sleeve knots, but the French portrait is gay in narrow red and buff
+ribbon.
+
+Doubtless many have formed their notion of Puritan dress from the
+imaginary pictures of several popular modern artists. It can plainly be
+seen by any one who examines the portraits in this book that they are
+little like these modern representations. The single figures called
+“Priscilla” and “Rose Standish” are well known. The former is the
+better in costume, and could the close dark cloth or velvet hood with
+turned-back band, and plain linen edge displayed beneath, be exchanged
+for the horseshoe shaped French hood which was then and many years
+later the universal head-wear, the verisimilitude would be increased.
+This hood is shown on the portraits of Madam Rawson, Madam Stoddard,
+Mistress Paddy, and others in this book. Rose Standish’s cap is a very
+pretty one, much prettier than the French hood, but I do not find it
+like any cap in English portraits of that day. Nor have I seen her
+picturesque sash. I do not deny the existence in portraits of 1620 of
+this cap and sash; I simply say that I have never found them myself in
+the hundreds of English portraits, effigies, etc., that I have
+examined.
+
+It will be noted that the women in the modern pictures all wear aprons.
+I think this is correct as they are drawn in their everyday dress, but
+it will be noted that none of these portraits display an apron; nor was
+an apron part of any rich dress in the seventeenth century. The reign
+of the apron had been in the sixteenth century, and it came in again
+with Anne. Of course every woman in Massachusetts used aprons.
+
+Early inventories of the effects of emigrant dames contain many an item
+of those housewifely garments. Jane Humphreys, of Dorchester,
+Massachusetts, had in her good wardrobe, in 1668, “2 Blew aprons, A
+White Holland Apron with a Small Lace at the bottom. A White Holland
+Apron with two breathes in it. My best white apron. My greene apron.”
+
+In the pictures, _The Return of the Mayflower_ and _The Pilgrim
+Exiles_, the masculine dress therein displayed is very close to that of
+the real men of the times. The great power of these pictures is, after
+all, not in the dress, but in the expression of the faces. The artist
+has portrayed the very spirit of pure religious feeling, self-denial,
+home-longing, and sadness of exile which we know must have been
+imprinted on those faces.
+
+The lack of likeness in the women’s dress is more through difference of
+figure and carriage and an indescribable cut of the garments than in
+detail, except in one adjunct, the sleeve, which is wholly unlike the
+seventeenth-century sleeve in these portraits. I have ever deemed the
+sleeve an important part both of a man’s coat and a woman’s gown. The
+tailor in the old play, _The Maid of the Mill_, says, “O Sleeve! O
+Sleeve! I’ll study all night, madam, to magnify your sleeves!” By its
+inelegant shape a garment may be ruined. By its grace it accents the
+beauty of other portions of the apparel. In these pictures of Puritan
+attire, it has proved able to make or mar the likeness to the real
+dress. It is now a component part of both outer and inner garment. It
+was formerly extraneous.
+
+In the reign of Henry VIII, the sleeve was generally a separate article
+of dress and the most gorgeous and richly ornamented portion of the
+dress. Outer and inner sleeves were worn by both men and women, for
+their doublets were sleeveless. Elizabeth gradually banished the outer
+hanging sleeve, though she retained the detached sleeve.
+
+Sleeves had grown gravely offensive to Puritans; the slashing was
+excessive. A Massachusetts statute of 1634 specifies that “No man or
+woman shall make or buy any slashed clothes other than one slash in
+each sleeve and another in the back. Men and women shall have liberty
+to wear out such apparell as they now are provided of except the
+immoderate great sleeves and slashed apparel.”
+
+
+Virago-sleeve. Virago-sleeve.
+
+Size and slashes were both held to be a waste of good cloth.
+“Immoderate great sleeves” could never be the simple coat sleeve with
+cuff in which our modern artists are given to depicting Virginian and
+New England dames. Doubtless the general shape of the dress was simple
+enough, but the sleeve was the only part which was not close and plain
+and unornamented. I have found no close coat sleeves with cuffs upon
+any old American portraits. I recall none on English portraits. You may
+see them, though rarely, in England under hanging sleeves upon figures
+which have proved valuable conservators of fashion, albeit sombre of
+design and rigid of form, namely, effigies in stone or metal upon old
+tombs; these not after the year 1620, though these are really a small
+“leg-of-mutton” sleeve being gathered into the arm-scye. A beautiful
+brass in a church on the Isle of Wight is dated 1615. This has long,
+hanging sleeves edged with leaflike points of cut-work; cuffs of
+similar work turn back from the wrists of the undersleeves. A _Satyr_
+by Fitzgeffrey, published the same year, complains that the wrists of
+women and men are clogged with bush-points, ribbons, or rebato-twists.
+“Double cufts” is an entry in a Plymouth inventory—which explains
+itself. In the hundreds of inventories I have investigated I have never
+seen half a dozen entries of cuffs. The two or three I have found have
+been specified as “lace cuffs.”
+
+George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, wrote with a vivid pen; one of
+his own followers said with severity, “He paints high.” Some of his
+denunciations of the dress of his day afford a very good notion of the
+peculiarities of contemporary costume; though he may be read with this
+caution in mind. He writes deploringly of women’s sleeves (in the year
+1654); it will be noted that he refers to double cuffs:—
+
+
+“The women having their cuffs double under and above, like a butcher
+with his white sleeves, their ribands tied about their hands, and three
+or four gold laces about their clothes.”
+
+
+
+
+Ninon de l’Enclos. Ninon de l’Enclos.
+
+There were three generations of English heralds named Holme, all
+genealogists, and all artists; they have added much to our knowledge of
+old English dress. Randle Holme, the Chester herald, lived in the reign
+of Charles II, and increased a collection of manuscript begun by his
+grandfather and now forming part of the Harleian Collection in the
+British Museum. He wrote also the _Academy of Armoury_, published in
+1688, and made a vast number of drawings for it, as well as for his
+other works. His note-books of drawings are preserved. In one of them
+he gives drawings of the sleeve which is found on every
+seventeenth-century portrait of American women which I have ever seen.
+He calls this a virago-sleeve. It was worn in Queen Elizabeth’s day,
+but was a French fashion. It is gathered very full in the shoulder and
+again at the wrist, or at the forearm. At intervals between, it is
+drawn in by gathering-strings of narrow ribbons, or ferret, which are
+tied in a pretty knot or rose on the upper part of the sleeve. One from
+a French portrait is given here. Madam Ninon de l’Enclos also wears
+one. This gathering may be at the elbow, forming thus two puffs, or
+there may be several such drawing-strings. I have seen a virago-sleeve
+with five puffs. It is a fine decorative sleeve, not always shapely,
+perhaps, but affording in the pretty knots of ribbon some relief to the
+severity of the rest of the dress.
+
+Stubbes wrote, “Some have sleeves cut up the arm, drawn out with sundry
+colours, pointed with silk ribbands, and very gallantly tied with love
+knotts.” It was at first a convention of fashion, and it lingered long
+in some modification, that wherever there was a slash there was a knot
+of ribbon or a bunch of tags or aglets. This in its origin was really
+that the slash might be tied together. Ribbon knots were much worn; the
+early days of the great court of Louis XIV saw an infinite use of
+ribbons for men and women. When, in the closing years of the century,
+rows of these knots were placed on either side of the stiff busk with
+bars of ribbon forming a stomacher, they were called _echelles_,
+ladders. _The Ladies’ Dictionary_ (1694) says they were “much in
+request.”
+
+This virago-sleeve was worn by women of all ages and by children, both
+boys and girls. A virago-sleeve is worn by Rebecca Rawson (here), and
+by Mrs. Simeon Stoddard (here), by Madam Padishal and by her little
+girl, and by the Gibbes child shown later in the book.
+
+A carved figure of Anne Stotevill (1631) is in Westminster Abbey. Her
+dress is a rich gown slightly open in front at the foot. It has
+ornamental hooks, or frogs, with a button at each end—these are in
+groups of three, from chin to toe. Four groups of three frogs each, on
+both sides, make twenty-four, thus giving forty-eight buttons. A stiff
+ruff is at the neck, and similar smaller ones at the wrist. She wears a
+French hood with a loose scarf over it. She has a very graceful
+virago-sleeve with handsome knots of ribbon.
+
+It is certain that men’s sleeves and women’s sleeves kept ever close
+company. Neither followed the other; they walked abreast. If a woman’s
+sleeves were broad and scalloped, so was the man’s. If the man had a
+tight and narrow sleeve, so did his wife. When women had
+virago-sleeves, so did men. Even in the nineteenth century, at the
+first coming of leg-of-mutton sleeves in 1830 _et seq_., dandies’
+sleeves were gathered full at the armhole. In the second reign of these
+vast sleeves a few years ago, man had emancipated himself from the
+reign of woman’s fashions, and his sleeves remained severely plain.
+
+Small invoices of fashionable clothing were constantly being sent
+across seas. There were sent to and from England and other countries
+“ventures,” which were either small lots of goods sent on speculation
+to be sold in the New World, or a small sum given by a private
+individual as a “venture,” with instructions to purchase abroad
+anything of interest or value that was salable. To take charge of these
+petty commercial transactions, there existed an officer, now obsolete,
+known as a supercargo. It is told that one Providence ship went out
+with the ventures of one hundred and fifty neighbors on board—that is,
+one hundred and fifty persons had some money or property at stake on
+the trip. Three hundred ventures were placed with another supercargo.
+Sometimes women sent sage from their gardens, or ginseng if they could
+get it. A bunch of sage paid in China for a porcelain tea-set. Along
+the coast, women ventured food-supplies,—cheese, eggs, butter, dried
+apples, pickles, even hard gingerbread; another sent a barrel of cider
+vinegar. Clothes in small lots were constantly being bought and sold on
+a venture. From London, in November, 1667, Walter Banesely sent as a
+venture to William Pitkin in Hartford these articles of clothing with
+their prices:—
+
+£	s. “1 Paire Pinck Colour’d mens hose	1	6 10 Paire Mens Silke
+Hose, 17s per pair	8	10 10 Paire Womens Silke Hose, 16s per
+pair	1	 12 10 Paire Womens Green Hose	6	 10 1 Pinck
+Colour’d Stomacher made of Knotts	3	10 1 Pinck Colour’d Wastcote
+A Black Sute of Padisuay. Hatt, Hatt band, Shoo knots &; trunk. The
+wastcote and stomacher are a Venture of my wife’s; the Silke Stockens
+mine own.”
+
+There remains another means of information of the dress of Puritan
+women in what was the nearest approach to a collection of
+fashion-plates which the times afforded.
+
+
+Lady Catharina Howard. Lady Catharina Howard.
+
+In the year 1640 a collection of twenty-six pictures of Englishwomen
+was issued by one Wenceslas Hollar, an engraver and drawing-master,
+with this title, _Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus. The severall Habits of
+Englishwomen, from the Nobilitie to the Country Woman As they are in
+these Times._ These bear the same relation to portraits showing what
+was really worn, as do fashion-plates to photographs. They give us the
+shapes of gowns, bonnets, etc., yet are not precisely the real thing.
+The value of this special set is found in three points: First, the
+drawings confirm the testimony of Lely, Van Dyck, and other artists;
+they prove how slightly Van Dyck idealized the costume of his sitters.
+Second, they give representations of folk in the lower walks of life;
+such folk were not of course depicted in portraits. Third, the drawings
+are full length, which the portraits are not. Four of these drawings
+are reduced and shown here. I give here the one entitled _The Puritan
+Woman_, though it is one of the most disappointing in the whole
+collection. It is such a negative presentation; so little marked detail
+or even associated evidence is gained from it. I had a baffled thought
+after examining it that I knew less of Puritan dress than without it. I
+see that they gather up their gowns for walking after a mode known in
+later years as washerwoman style. And by that very gathering up we lose
+what the drawing might have told us; namely, how the gowns were shaped
+in the back; how attached to the waist or bodice; and how the bodice
+was shaped at the waist, whether it had a straight belt, whether it was
+pointed, whether slashed in tabs or laps like a samare. The sleeve,
+too, is concealed, and the kerchief hides everything else. We know
+these kerchiefs were worn among the “fifty other ways,” for some
+portraits have them; but the whisk was far more common. Lady Catharina
+Howard, aged eleven in the year 1646, was drawn by Hollar in a
+kerchief.
+
+There had been some change in the names of women’s attire in twenty
+years, since 1600, when the catalogue of the Queen’s wardrobe was made.
+Exclusive of the Coronation, Garter, Parliament, and mourning robes, it
+ran thus:—
+
+
+“Robes.
+Petticoats.
+French gowns.
+Cloaks.
+Round gowns.
+Safeguards.
+Loose gowns.
+Jupes.
+Kirtles.
+Doublets.
+Foreparts.
+Lap mantles.”
+
+
+In her New Year’s gifts were also, “strayt-bodyed gowns, trayn-gowns,
+waist-robes, night rayls, shoulder cloaks, inner sleeves, round
+kirtles.” She also had nightgowns and jackets, and underwear, hose, and
+various forms of foot-gear. Many of these garments never came to
+America. Some came under new names. Many quickly disappeared from
+wardrobes. I never read in early American inventories of robes, either
+French robes or plain robes. Round gowns, loose gowns, petticoats,
+cloaks, safeguards, lap mantles, sleeves, nightgowns, nightrails, and
+night-jackets continued in wear.
+
+I have never found the word forepart in this distinctive signification
+nor the word kirtle; though our modern writers of historical novels are
+most liberal of kirtles to their heroines. It is a pretty, quaint name,
+and ought to have lingered with us; but “what a deformed thief this
+Fashion is”—it will not leave with us garment or name that we like
+simply because it pleases us.
+
+Doublets were worn by women.
+
+
+“The Women also have doublets and Jerkins as men have, buttoned up the
+brest, and made with Wings, Welts and Pinions on shoulder points as
+men’s apparell is for all the world, &; though this be a kind of attire
+appropriate only to Man yet they blush not to wear it.”
+
+
+Anne Hibbins, the _witch_, had a black satin doublet among other
+substantial attire.
+
+A fellow-barrister of Governor John Winthrop, Sergeant Erasmus Earle, a
+most uxorious husband, was writing love-letters to his wife Frances,
+who lived out of London, at the same time that Winthrop was writing to
+Margaret Winthrop. Earle was much concerned over a certain doublet he
+had ordered for his wife. He had bought the blue bayes for this garment
+in two pieces, and he could not decide whether the shorter piece should
+go into the sleeve or the body, whether it should have skirts or not.
+If it did not, then he had bought too much silver lace, which troubled
+him sorely.
+
+Margaret Winthrop had better instincts; to her husband’s query as to
+sending trimming for her doublet and gown, she answers, “_When I see
+the cloth_ I will send word what trimming will serve;” and she writes
+to London, insisting on “the civilest fashion now in use,” and for
+Sister Downing, who is still in England, to give Tailor Smith
+directions “that he may make it the better.” Mr. Smith sent scissors
+and a hundred needles and the like homely gifts across seas as “tokens”
+to various members of the Winthrop household, showing his friendly
+intimacy with them all. For many years after America was settled we
+find no evidence that women’s garments were ever made by mantua-makers.
+All the bills which exist are from tailors. One of William Sweatland
+for work done for Jonathan Corwin of Salem is in the library of the
+American Antiquarian Society:—
+
+£	s.	d. “Sept. 29, 1679. To plaiting a gown for
+Mrs.		3	6 To makeing a Childs Coat		6 To makeing a
+Scarlet petticoat with Silver Lace for Mrs.		9 For new makeing a
+plush somar for Mrs.		6 Dec. 22, 1679. For makeing a somar for
+your Maide		10 Mar. 10, 1679. To a yard of Callico		2 To 1
+Douzen and 1/2 of silver buttons		1	6 To Thread			4
+To makeing a broad cloth hatte		14 To makeing a haire
+Camcottcoat		9 To makeing new halfsleeves to a silk
+Coascett		1 March 25. To altering and fitting a paire of Stays
+for Mrs		1 Ap. 2, 1680, to makeing a Gowne for ye Maide		10
+May 20. For removing buttons of yr coat.			6 Juli 25, 1630.
+For makeing two Hatts and Jacketts for your two sonnes		19 Aug.
+14. To makeing a white Scarsonnett plaited Gowne for Mrs		8 To
+makeing a black broad cloth Coat for yourselfe		9 Sept. 3, 1868.
+To makeing a Silke Laced Gowne for Mrs	1	8 Oct. 7, 1860, to
+makeing a Young Childs Coate		4 To faceing your Owne Coat
+Sleeves		1 To new plaiting a petty Coat for Mrs		1	6
+Nov. 7. To makeing a black broad Cloth Gowne for Mrs		18 Feb. 26,
+1680-1. To Searing a Petty Coat for Mrs		6 —-	—-	—- Sum is,
+£;8	 4s.	10d.	”
+
+From many bills and inventories we learn that the time of the
+settlement of Plymouth and Boston reached a transitional period in
+women’s dress as it did in men’s. Mrs. Winthrop had doublets as had
+Governor Winthrop, but I think her daughter wore gowns when her sons
+wore coats. The doublet for a woman was shaped like that of a man, and
+was of double thickness like a man’s. It might be sleeveless, with a
+row of welts or wings around the armhole; or if it had sleeves the
+welts, or a roll or cap, still remained. The trimming of the arm-scye
+was universal, both for men and women. A fuller description of the
+doublet than has ever before been written will be given in the chapter
+upon the Evolution of the Coat. The “somar” which is the samare, named
+also in the bill of the Salem tailor, seems to have been a Dutch
+garment, and was so much worn in New York that I prefer to write of it
+in the following chapter. We are then left with the gown; the gown
+which took definite shape in Elizabeth’s day. Of course no one could
+describe it like Stubbes. I frankly confess my inability to approach
+him. Read his words, so concise yet full of color and conveying detail;
+I protest it is wonderful.
+
+
+“Their Gowns be no less famous, some of silk velvet grogram taffety
+fine cloth of forty shillings a yard. But if the whole gown be not
+silke or velvet then the same shall be layed with lace two or three
+fingers broade all over the gowne or the most parte. Or if not so (as
+Lace is not fine enough sometimes) then it must be garded with great
+gardes of costly Lace, and as these gowns be of sundry colours so they
+be of divers fashions changing with the Moon. Some with sleeves hanging
+down to their skirts, trayling on the ground, and cast over the
+shoulders like a cow’s tayle. These have sleeves much shorter, cut up
+the arme, and pointed with Silke-ribons very gallantly tyed with true
+loves knottes—(for soe they call them). Some have capes fastened down
+to the middist of their backs, faced with velvet or else with some fine
+wrought silk Taffeetie at the least, and fringed about Bravely, and (to
+sum up all in a word) some are pleated and ryveled down the back
+wonderfully with more knacks than I can declare.”
+
+
+The guards of lace a finger broad laid on over the seams of the gown
+are described by Pepys in his day. He had some of these guards of gold
+lace taken from the seams of one of his wife’s old gowns to overlay the
+seams of one of his own cassocks and rig it up for wear, just as he
+took his wife’s old muff, like a thrifty husband, and bought her a new
+muff, like a kind one. Not such a domestic frugalist was he, though, as
+his contemporary, the great political economist, Dudley North, Baron
+Guildford, Lord Sheriff of London, who loved to sit with his wife
+ripping off the old guards of lace from her gown, “unpicking” her gown,
+he called it, and was not at all secret about it. Both men walked
+abroad to survey the gems and guards worn by their neighbors’ wives,
+and to bring home word of new stuffs, new trimmings, to their own
+wives. Really a seventeenth-century husband was not so bad. Note in my
+_Life of Margaret Winthrop_ how Winthrop’s fellow-barrister, Sergeant
+Erasmus Earle, bought camlet and lace, and patterns for doublets for
+his wife Frances Fontayne, and ran from London clothier to London
+mantua-maker, and then to London haberdasher and London tailor, to
+learn the newest weaves of cloth, the newest drawing in of the sleeves.
+I know no nineteenth-century husband of that name who would hunt
+materials and sleeve patterns, and buy doublet laces and find
+gown-guards for his wife. And then the gown sleeves! What a description
+by Stubbes of the virago-sleeve “tied in and knotted with silk ribbons
+in love-knots!” It is all wonderful to read.
+
+We learn from these tailors’ bills that tailors’ work embraced far more
+articles than to-day; in the _Orbis Sensualium Pictus_, 1659, a
+tailor’s shop has hanging upon the wall woollen hats, breeches,
+waistcoats, jackets, women’s cloaks, and petticoats. There are also
+either long hose or lasts for stretching hose, for they made stockings,
+leggins, gaiters, buskins; also a number of boxes which look like
+muff-boxes. One tailor at work is seated upon a platform raised about a
+foot from the floor. His seat is a curious bench with two legs about
+two feet long and two about one foot long. The base of the two long
+legs are on the floor, the other two set upon the platform. The
+tailor’s feet are on the platform, thus his work is held well up before
+his face. Sometimes his legs are crossed upon the platform in front of
+him. The platform was necessary, or, at any rate, advisable for another
+reason. The habits of Englishmen at that time, their manners and
+customs, I mean, were not tidy; and floors were very dirty. Any garment
+resting on the floor would have been too soiled for a gentleman’s wear
+before it was donned at all.
+
+I have discovered one thing about old-time tailors,—they were just as
+trying as their successors, and had as many tricks of trade. A writer
+in 1582 says, “If a tailor makes your gown too little, he covers his
+fault with a broad stomacher; if too great, with a number of pleats; if
+too short, with a fine guard; if too long with a false gathering.”
+
+In several of the household accounts of colonial dames which I have
+examined I have found the prices and items very confusing and irregular
+when compared with tailors’ bills and descriptive notes and letters
+accompanying them. And in one case I was fain to believe that the
+lady’s account-book had been kept upon the plan devised by the simple
+Mrs. Pepys,—a plan which did anger her spouse Samuel “most mightily.”
+He was filled with admiration of her household-lists—her kitchen
+accounts. He admired in the modern sense of the word “admire”; then he
+admired in the old-time meaning—of suspicious wonder. For albeit she
+could do through his strenuous teaching but simple sums in
+“Arithmetique,” had never even attempted long division, yet she always
+rendered to her husband perfectly balanced accounts, month after month.
+At last, to his angry queries, she whimpered that “whenever she doe
+misse a sum of money, she do add some sums to other things,” till she
+made it perfectly correct in her book—a piece of such simple duplicity
+that I wonder her husband had not suspected it months before. And she
+also revealed to him that she “would lay aside money for a necklace” by
+pretending to pay more for household supplies than she really had, and
+then tying up the extra amount in a stocking foot. He writes, “I find
+she is very cunning and when she makes least show hath her wits at
+work; and _so_ to my office to my accounts.”
+
+
+Costumes of Englishwomen of the Seventeenth Century. Costumes of
+Englishwomen of the Seventeenth Century.
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS
+
+“Two things I love, two usuall thinges they are:
+The Firste, New-fashioned cloaths I love to wear,
+Newe Tires, newe Ruffes; aye, and newe Gestures too
+In all newe Fashions I do love to goe.
+    The Second Thing I love is this, I weene
+    To ride aboute to have those Newe Cloaths scene.
+
+“At every Gossipping I am at still
+And ever wilbe—maye I have my will.
+For at ones own Home, praie—who is’t can see
+How fyne in new-found fashioned Tyres we bee?
+Vnless our Husbands—Faith! but very fewe!—
+And whoo’d goe gaie, to please a Husband’s view?
+    Alas! wee wives doe take but small Delight
+    If none (besides our husbands) see that Sight”
+
+—“The Gossipping Wives Complaint,” 1611 (circa).
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS
+
+
+I
+
+
+t is a matter of deep regret that no “Lists of Apparel” were made out
+for the women emigrants in any of the colonies. Doubtless many came who
+had a distinct allotment of clothing, among them the redemptioners. We
+know one case, that of the “Casket Girls,” of Louisiana, where a group
+of “virtuous, modest, well-carriaged young maids” each had a casket or
+box of clothing supplied to her as part of her payment for emigration.
+I wish we had these lists, not that I should deem them of great value
+or accuracy in one respect since they would have been made out
+naturally by men, but because I should like to read the struggles of
+the average shipping-clerk or supercargo, or even shipping-master or
+company’s president, over the items of women’s dress. One reason why
+the lists we have in the court records are so wildly spelled and often
+vague is, I am sure, because the recording-clerks were always men. Such
+hopeless puzzles as droll or drowlas, cale or caul or kail, chatto or
+shadow, shabbaroon or chaperone, have come to us through these poor
+struggling gentlemen.
+
+There are not to my knowledge any portraits in existence of the wives
+of the first Dutch settlers of New Netherland. They would have been
+dressed, I am sure, in the full dress of Holland vrouws. We can turn to
+the court records of New Netherland to learn the exact item of the
+dress of the settlers. Let me give in full this inventory of an
+exceptionally rich and varied wardrobe of Madam Jacob de Lange of New
+Amsterdam, 1662:—
+
+£;	 s.	d. One under petticoat with a body of red bay	1	7
+One under petticoat, scarlet	1	15 One petticoat, red cloth with
+black lace	2	15 One striped stuff petticoat with black
+lace	2	8 Two colored drugget petticoats with gray
+linings	1	2 Two colored drugget petticoats with white
+linings		18 One colored drugget petticoat with pointed
+lace		8 One black silk petticoat with ash gray silk
+lining	1	10 One potto-foo silk petticoat with black silk
+lining	2	15 One potto-foo silk petticoat with taffeta
+lining	1	13 One silk potoso-a-samare with lace	3 One tartanel
+samare with tucker	1	10 One black silk crape samare with
+tucker	1	10 Three flowered calico samares	2	17 Three calico
+nightgowns, one flowered, two red		7 One silk waistcoat, one
+calico waistcoa.		14 One pair of bodices		4 Five pair white
+cotton stockings		9 Three black love-hoods		5 One white
+love-hood		2	6 Two pair sleeves with great lace	1	3 Four
+cornet caps with lace	3 One black silk rain cloth cap		10 One
+black plush mask		1	6 Four yellow lace drowlas		2
+
+This is a most interesting list of garments. The sleeves with great
+lace must from their price have been very rich articles of dress. The
+yellow lace drowlas, since there were four of them (and no other
+neckerchiefs, such as gorgets, piccadillies, or whisks are named), must
+have been neckwear of some form. I suspect they are the lace drowls or
+drolls to which I refer in a succeeding chapter on A Vain Puritan
+Grandmother. The rain cloth cap of black silk is curious also, being
+intended to wear over another cap or a love-hood. The cornet caps with
+lace are a Dutch fashion. The “lace” was in the form of lappets or
+pinners which flapped down at the side of the face over the ears and
+almost over the cheeks. Evelyn speaks of a woman in “a cornet with the
+upper pinner dangling about her cheeks like hound’s ears.” Cotgrave
+tells in rather vague definition that a cornet is “a fashion of Shadow
+or Boone Grace used in old time and to this day by old women.” It was
+not like a bongrace, nor like the cap I always have termed a shadow,
+but it had two points like broad horns or ears with lace or gauze
+spread over both and hanging from these horns. Cornets and corneted
+caps are often in Dutch inventories in early New York. And they can be
+seen in old Dutch pictures. They were one of the few distinctly Dutch
+modes that lingered in New Netherland; but by the third generation from
+the settlement they had disappeared.
+
+
+Mrs. Livingstone. Mrs. Livingstone.
+
+What the words “potto-foo” and “potoso-a-samare” mean I cannot
+decipher. I have tried to find Dutch words allied in sound but in vain.
+I believe the samare was a Dutch fashion. We rarely find samares worn
+in Virginia and Maryland, but the name frequently occurs in the first
+Dutch inventories in New Netherland and occasionally in the Connecticut
+valley, where there were a few Dutch settlers; occasionally also in
+Plymouth, whose first settlers had been for a number of years under
+Dutch influences in Holland; and rarely in Salem and Boston, whose
+planters also had felt Dutch influences through the settling in Essex
+and Suffolk of opulent Flemish and Dutch “clothiers”—cloth-workers.
+These Dutchmen had married Englishwomen, and their presence in English
+homes was distinctly shown by the use then and to the present day of
+Dutch words, Dutch articles of dress, furniture, and food. From these
+Dutch-settled shires of Essex and Suffolk came John Winthrop and all
+the so-called Bay Emigration.
+
+I am convinced that a samare was a certain garment which I have seen in
+French, Dutch, and English portraits of the day. It is a tight-fitting
+jacket or waist or bodice—call it what you will; its skirt or portion
+below the belt-line is four to eight inches deep, cut up in tabs or
+oblong flaps, four on each side. These slits are to the belt line. It
+is, to explain further, a basque, tight-fitting or with the waist laid
+in plaits, and with the basque skirt cut in eight tabs. These laps or
+tabs set out rather stiffly and squarely over the full-gathered
+petticoats of the day.
+
+I turn to a Dutch dictionary for a definition of the word “samare,”
+though my Dutch dictionary being of the date 1735 is too recent a
+publication to be of much value. In it a samare is defined simply as a
+woman’s gown. Randle Holme says, rather vaguely, that it is a short
+jacket for women’s wear with four side-laps, reaching to the knees. In
+this rich wardrobe of the widow De Lange, twelve petticoats are
+enumerated and no overdress-jacket or doublet of any kind except those
+samares. Their price shows that they were not a small garment. One
+“silk potoso-a-samare with lace” was worth £;3. One “tartanel samare
+with tucker” was worth £;1 10s. One “black silk crape samare with
+tucker” was worth £;1 10s., and three “flowered calico” samares were
+worth £;2 10s. They were evidently of varying weights for summer and
+winter wear, and were worn over the rich petticoat.
+
+The bill of the Salem tailor, William Sweatland (1679), shows that he
+charged 9s. for making a scarlet petticoat with silver lace; for making
+a black broadcloth gown 18s.; while “new-makeing a plush somar for
+Mistress.” (which was making over) was 6s.; “making a somar for your
+Maide” was 10s., which was the same price he charged for making a gown
+for the maid.
+
+The colors in the Dutch gowns were uniformly gay. Madam Cornelia de Vos
+in a green cloth petticoat, a red and blue “Haarlamer” waistcoat, a
+pair of red and yellow sleeves, a white cornet cap, green stockings
+with crimson clocks, and a purple “Pooyse” apron was a blooming
+flower-bed of color.
+
+
+Mrs. Magdalen Beekman. Mrs. Magdalen Beekman.
+
+I fear we have unconsciously formed our mental pictures of our Dutch
+forefathers through the vivid descriptions of Washington Irving. We
+certainly cannot improve upon his account of the Dutch housewife of New
+Amsterdam:—
+
+
+“Their hair, untortured by the abominations of art, was scrupulously
+pomatumed back from their foreheads with a candle, and covered with a
+little cap of quilted calico, which fitted exactly to their heads.
+Their petticoats of linsey-woolsey were striped with a variety of
+gorgeous dyes, though I must confess those gallant garments were rather
+short, scarce reaching below the knee; but then they made up in the
+number, which generally equalled that of the gentlemen’s small-clothes;
+and what is still more praise-worthy, they were all of their own
+manufacture,—of which circumstance, as may well be supposed, they were
+not a little vain.
+
+“Those were the honest days, in which every woman stayed at home, read
+the Bible, and wore pockets,—ay, and that, too, of a goodly size,
+fashioned with patchwork into many curious devices, and ostentatiously
+worn on the outside. These, in fact, were convenient receptacles where
+all good housewives carefully stored away such things as they wished to
+have at hand; by which means they often came to be incredibly crammed.
+
+“Besides these notable pockets, they likewise wore scissors and
+pincushions suspended from their girdles by red ribbons, or, among the
+more opulent and showy classes, by brass and even silver chains,
+indubitable tokens of thrifty housewives and industrious spinsters. I
+cannot say much in vindication of the shortness of the petticoats; it
+doubtless was introduced for the purpose of giving the stockings a
+chance to be seen, which were generally of blue worsted, with
+magnificent red clocks; or perhaps to display a well-turned ankle and a
+neat though serviceable foot, set off by a high-heeled leathern shoe,
+with a large and splendid silver buckle.
+
+“There was a secret charm in those petticoats, which no doubt entered
+into the consideration of the prudent gallants. The wardrobe of a lady
+was in those days her only fortune; and she who had a good stock of
+petticoats and stockings was as absolutely an heiress as is a
+Kamtschatka damsel with a store of bear-skins, or a Lapland belle with
+plenty of reindeer.”
+
+
+A Boston lady, Madam Knights, visiting New York in 1704, wrote also
+with clear pen:—
+
+
+“The English go very fashionable in their dress. But the Dutch,
+especially the middling sort, differ from our women, in their habitt go
+loose, wear French muches which are like a Capp and headband in one,
+leaving their ears bare, which are sett out with jewells of a large
+size and many in number; and their fingers hoop’t with rings, some with
+large stones in them of many Coullers, as were their pendants in their
+ears, which you should see very old women wear as well as Young.”
+
+
+The jewels of one settler of New Amsterdam were unusually rich (in
+1650), and were enumerated thus:—
+
+ £;	 s.	d. One embroidered purse with silver bugle and chain to
+ the girdle and silver hook and eye	1	4 One pair black pendants,
+ gold nocks		10 One gold boat, wherein thirteen diamonds &; one
+ white coral chain	 16 One pair gold stucks or pendants each with
+ ten diamonds	25 Two diamond rings	 24 One gold ring with clasp
+ beck		12 One gold ring or hoop bound round with
+ diamonds	2	 10
+
+These jewels were owned by the wife of an English-born citizen; but
+some of the Dutch dames had handsome jewels, especially rich
+chatelaines with their equipages and etuis with rich and useful
+articles in variety. When we read of such articles, we find it
+difficult to credit the words of an English clergyman who visited
+Albany about the year 1700; namely, that he found the Dutch women of
+best Albany families going about their homes in summer time and doing
+their household work while barefooted.
+
+Many conditions existed in Maryland which were found nowhere else in
+the colonies. These were chiefly topographical. The bay and its many
+and accommodative tide-water estuaries gave the planters the means, not
+only of easy, cheap, and speedy communication with each other, but with
+the whole world. It was a freedom of intercourse not given to any other
+_agricultural_ community in the whole world. It was said that every
+planter had salt water within a rifle-shot of his front gate—therefore
+the world was open to him. The tide is never strong enough on this
+shore to hinder a sailboat nor is the current of the rivers
+perceptible. The crop of the settlers was wholly tobacco—indeed, all
+the processes of government, of society, of domestic life, began and
+ended with tobacco. It was a wonderfully lucrative crop, but it was an
+unhappy one for any colony; for the tobacco ships arrived in fleets
+only in May and June, when the crops were ready for market. The ships
+could come in anywhere by tide-water. Hence there were two or three
+months of intense excitement, or jollity, lavishness, extravagance,
+when these ships were in; a regular Bartholomew Fair of disorder,
+coarse wit, and rough fun; and the rest of the year there was nothing;
+no business, no money, no fun. Often the planter found himself after a
+month of June gambling and fun with three years’ crops pledged in
+advance to his creditors. The factor then played his part; took a
+mortgage, perhaps, on both crops and plantation; and invariably ended
+in owning everything. A striking but coarse picture of the traffic and
+its evils is given in _The Sot-weed Factor_, a poem of the day.
+
+
+Lady Anne Clifford. Lady Anne Clifford.
+
+Land and living were cheap in this tobacco land, but labor was needed
+for the sudden crops; so negro slaves were bought, and warm invitations
+were sent back to England for all and every kind of labor. Convicts
+were welcomed, redemptioners were eagerly sought for; and the
+scrupulous laws which were made for their protection were blazoned in
+England. Many laborers were “crimped,” too, in England, and brought of
+course, willy-nilly, to Maryland. Landlords were even granted lands in
+proportion to their number of servants; a hundred acres per capita was
+the allowance. It can readily be seen that an ambitious or unscrupulous
+planter would gather in in some way as many heads as possible.
+
+Maryland under the Baltimores was the only colony that then admitted
+convicts—that is, admitted them openly and legally. She even greeted
+them warmly, eager for the labor of their hands, which was often
+skilled labor; welcomed them for their wits, albeit these had often
+been ill applied; welcomed them for their manners, often amply refined;
+welcomed them for their possibilities of rehabilitation of morals and
+behavior.
+
+The kidnapped servants did not fare badly. Many examples are known
+where they worked on until they had acquired ample means; still the
+literature of the day is full of complaints such as this in _The
+Sot-weed Factor_:—
+
+“Not then a slave; for twice two years
+My clothes were fashionably new.
+Nor were my shifts of linen blue.
+But Things are Changed. Now at the Hoe
+I daily work; and Barefoot go.
+In weeding Corn, or feeding Swine
+I spend my melancholy time.”
+
+
+Cheap ballads were sold in England warning English maidens against
+kidnapping.
+
+In the collection of Old Black Letter Ballads in the British Museum is
+one entitled _The Trappan’d Maiden or the Distressed Damsel_. Its date
+is believed to be 1670.
+
+“The Girl was cunningly trappan’d
+Sent to Virginny from England.
+Where she doth Hardship undergo;
+There is no cure, it must be so;
+But if she lives to cross the Main
+She vows she’ll ne’er go there again.
+  Give ear unto a Maid
+  That lately was betray’d
+    And sent unto Virginny O.
+  In brief I shall declare
+  What I have suffered there
+    When that I was weary, O.
+  The cloathes that I brought in
+  They are worn so thin
+    In the Land of Virginny O.
+  Which makes me for to say
+  Alas! and well-a-day
+    When that I was weary, O.”
+
+
+The indentured servant, the redemptioner, or free-willer saw before
+him, at the close of his seven years term, a home in a teeming land; he
+would own fifty acres of that land with three barrels, an axe, a gun,
+and a hoe—truly, the world was his. He would have also a suit of
+kersey, strong hose, a shirt, French fall shoes, and a good hat,—a
+Monmouth cap,—a suit worthy any man. Abigail had an equal start, a
+petticoat and waistcoat of strong wool, a perpetuana or callimaneo, two
+blue aprons, two linen caps, a pair of new shoes, two pairs of new
+stockings and a smock, and three barrels of Indian corn.
+
+We find that many of these redemptioners became soldiers in the
+colonial wars, often distinguished for bravery. This was through a law
+passed by the British government that all who enlisted in military
+service in the colonies were released by that act from further bondage.
+
+
+Lady Herrman. Lady Herrman.
+
+In the year 1659, on an autumn day, two white men with an Indian guide
+paddled swiftly over the waters of Chesapeake Bay on business of much
+import. They had come from Manhattan, and bore despatches from Governor
+Stuyvesant to the governor of Maryland, relating to the ever
+troublesome query of those days, namely, the exact placing of boundary
+lines. One of these men was Augustine Herrman, a man of parts, who had
+been ambassador to Rhode Island, a ship-owner, and man of executive
+ability, which was proven by his offer to Lord Baltimore to draw a map
+of Maryland and the surrounding country in exchange for a tract of land
+at the head of the bay. He was a land-surveyor, and drew an excellent
+map; and he received the four thousand acres afterwards known as
+Bohemia Manor. His portrait and that of his wife exist; they are
+wretched daubs, as were many of the portraits of the day, but,
+nevertheless, her dress is plainly revealed by it. You can see a copy
+of it here. The overdress, pleated body, and upper sleeve are green.
+The little lace collar is drawn up with a tiny ribbon just as we see
+collars to-day. Her hair is simplicity itself. The full undersleeves
+and heavy ear-rings give a little richness to the dress, which is not
+English nor is it Dutch.
+
+It is easy to know the items of the dress of the early Virginian
+settlers, where any court records exist. Many, of course, have perished
+in the terrible devastations of two long wars; but wherever they have
+escaped destruction all the records of church and town in the various
+counties of Virginia have been carefully transcribed and certified, and
+are open to consultation in the Virginia State Library at Richmond,
+where many of the originals are also preserved. Many have also been
+printed. Mr. Bruce, in his fine book, _The Economic History of Virginia
+in the Seventeenth Century_, has given frequent extracts from these
+certified records. From them and from the originals I gain much
+knowledge of the dress of the planters at that time. It varied little
+from dress in the New England colonies save that Virginians were richer
+than New Englanders, and so had more costly apparel. Almost nothing was
+manufactured in Virginia. The plainest and simplest articles of dress,
+save those of homespun stuffs, were ordered from England, as well as
+richer garments. We see even in George Washington’s day, until he was
+prevented by war, that he sent frequent orders, wherein elaborately
+detailed attire was ordered with the pettiest articles for household
+and plantation use.
+
+
+Elizabeth Cromwell. Elizabeth Cromwell.
+
+Mrs. Francis Pritchard of Lancaster, Virginia (in 1660), we find had a
+representative wardrobe. She owned an olive-colored silk petticoat,
+another of silk tabby, and one of flowered tabby, one of velvet, and
+one of white striped dimity. Her printed calico gown was lined with
+blue silk, thus proving how much calico was valued. Other bodices were
+a striped dimity jacket and a black silk waistcoat. To wear with these
+were a pair of scarlet sleeves and other sleeves of ruffled holland.
+Five aprons, various neckwear of Flanders lace, and several rich
+handkerchiefs completed a gay costume to which green silk stockings
+gave an additional touch of color. Green was distinctly the favorite
+color for hose among all the early settlers; and nearly all the
+inventories in Virginia have that entry.
+
+Mrs. Sarah Willoughby of Lower Norfolk, Virginia, had at the same date
+a like gay wardrobe, valued, however, at but £;14. Petticoats of
+calico, striped linen, India silk, worsted prunella, and red, blue, and
+black silk were accompanied with scarlet waistcoats with silver lace, a
+white knit waistcoat, a “pair of red paragon bodices,” and another pair
+of sky-colored satin bodices. She had also a striped stuff jacket, a
+worsted prunella mantle, and a black silk gown. There were distinctions
+in the shape of the outer garments—mantles, jackets, and gowns. Hoods,
+aprons, and bands completed her comfortable attire.
+
+Though so much of the clothing of the Virginia planters was made in
+England, there was certain work done by home tailors; such work as
+repairs, alterations, making children’s common clothing, and the like,
+also the clothing of upper servants. Often the tailor himself was a
+bond-servant. Thus, Luke Mathews, a tailor from Hereford, England, was
+bound to Thomas Landon for a term of two years from the day he landed.
+He was to have sixpence a day while working for the Landon family, but
+when working for other persons half of whatever he earned. In the
+Lancaster County records is a tailor’s account (one Noah Rogers) from
+the year 1690 to 1709; it was paid, of course, in tobacco. We may set
+the tobacco as worth about twopence a pound. It will be thus seen from
+the following items that prices in Virginia were higher than in New
+England:—
+
+Pounds For making seven womens’ Jacketts	70 For making a Coat for
+y’r Wife	60 For altering a Plush Britches	20 For Y’r Wife &;
+Daughturs Jackett	30 For y’r Britches	20 Coat	40 Y’r Boys
+Jacketts	20 Y’r Sons britches	25 Y’r Eldest Sons Ticking
+Suite	60 To making I Dimity Waistcoat, Serge suite 2 Cotton
+Waistcoats and y’r Dimity Coat	185 For a pr of buff Gloves	100
+For I Neck Cloth	12 A pr of Stockings	120 A pr Callimmaneo
+britches	60
+
+Another bill of the year 1643 reads:—
+
+Pounds To making a suit with buttons to it	80 1 ell canvas	30 for
+dimothy linings	30 for buttons &; silke	50 for points	50 for
+taffeta	58 for belly pieces	40 for hooks &; eies	10 for
+ribbonin for pockets	20 for stiffinin for a collar	10 —- Sum 378
+
+The extraordinary prices of one hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco
+for making a pair of stockings, and one hundred for a pair of gloves,
+when making a coat was but forty, must remain a seventeenth-century
+puzzle. This coat was probably a petticoat. It is curious, too, to find
+a tailor making gloves and stockings at any price. I think both buff
+gloves and stockings were of leather. Perhaps he charged thus broadly
+because it was “not in his line.” Work in leather was always well paid.
+We find tailors making leather breeches and leather drawers; the latter
+could not be the garments thus named to-day. Tailors became prosperous
+and well-to-do, perhaps because they worked in winter when other
+Virginia tradesfolk were idle; and they acquired large tracts of land.
+
+The conditions of settlement of Virginia were somewhat different from
+those of the planting of New England. We find the land of many
+Massachusetts towns wholly taken up by a group of settlers who
+emigrated together from the Old World and gathered into a town together
+in the New. It was like the transferal of a neighborhood. It brought
+about many happy results of mutual helpfulness and interdependence.
+From it arose that system of domestic service in which the children of
+friends rendered helpful duty in other households and were called help.
+Nothing of the kind existed in Virginia. There was far less
+neighborhood life. Plantations were isolated. Lines of demarcation in
+domestic service were much more definite where black life slaves and
+white bond-servants for a term of years performed all household
+service. For the daughter of one Virginia household to “help” in the
+work in another household was unknown. Each system had its benefits;
+each had its drawbacks. Neither has wholly survived; but something
+better has been evolved, in spite of our lamentations for the good old
+times.
+
+Life is better ordered, but it is not so picturesque as when negro
+servants swarmed in the kitchen, and German, Scotch, and Irish
+redemptioners served in varied callings. There was vast variety of
+attire to be found on the Virginia and Maryland plantations and in the
+few towns of these colonies. The black slaves wore homespun cloths and
+homespun stuff, crocus and Virginia cloth; and the women were happy if
+they could crown their simple attire with gay turbans. Indians stalked
+up to the plantation doors, halted in silence, and added their gay
+dress of the wild woods. German sectaries and mystics fared on garbed
+in their simple peasant dress. Irish sturdy beggars idled and fiddled
+through existence, in dress of shabby gentility, with always a wig.
+“Wild-Irish” came in brogues and Irish trousers. Sailors and pirates
+came ashore gayly dressed in varied costume, with gay sashes full of
+pistols and cutlasses, swaggering from wharf to plantation. Queer
+details of dress had all these varied souls; some have lingered to
+puzzle us.
+
+A year ago I had sent to me, by a descendant of an old Virginia family,
+a photograph of a curious gold medal or disk, a family relic which was
+evidently a token of some importance, since it bore tiny holes and had
+marks of having been affixed as an insignia. Though I could decipher
+the bold initials, cut in openwork, I could judge little by the
+colorless photograph, and finally with due misgivings and great
+precautions in careful packing, insurance, etc., the priceless family
+relic was intrusted to an express company for transmission to my
+inspection. Glad indeed was I that the owner had not presented it in
+person; for the decoration of honor, the insignia of rank, the trophy
+of prowess in war or emblem of conquest in love, was the pauper’s badge
+of a Maryland or Virginia parish. It was not a pleasant task to write
+back the mortifying news; but I am proud of the letter which I
+composed; no one could have done the deed better.
+
+There was an old law in Virginia which ran thus:—
+
+
+“Every person who shall receive relief from the parish and be sent to
+the said alms-house, shall, upon the shoulder of the right sleeve of
+his uppermost garment in an open and visible manner, wear a badge with
+the name of the parish to which he or she belongs, cut in red, blue or
+green cloth, as the vestry or church wardens shall direct. And if any
+poor person shall neglect or refuse to wear such badge, such offense
+may be punished either by ordering his or her allowance to be abridged,
+suspended or withdrawn, or the offender to be whipped not exceeding
+five lashes for one offense; and if any person not entitled to relief
+as aforesaid, shall presume to wear such badge, he or she shall be
+whipped for every such offense.”
+
+
+This law did not mean the full name of the parish, but significant
+initials. Sometimes the initials “P P” were employed, standing for
+public pauper. In other counties a metal badge was ordered, often cast
+in pewter. In one case a die-cutter was made by which an oblong brass
+badge could be cut, and stamps of letters to stamp the badges
+accompanied it. Sometimes these badges were three inches long.
+
+The expression, “the badge of poverty,” became a literal one when all
+persons receiving parochial relief had to wear a large Roman “P” with
+the initial of their parish set on the right sleeve of the uppermost
+garment in an open and visible manner. Likewise all pensioners were
+ordered to wear their badges “so they may be seen.” A pauper who
+refused to do this might be whipped and imprisoned for twenty-one days.
+Moreover, if the parish beadle neglected to spy out that the badge was
+missing from some poor pensioner, he had to pay half a crown himself.
+This legality was necessitated by actions like that of the English
+goody, who, when ordered to wear this pauper’s badge, demurely fastened
+it to her flannel petticoat. For this law, like all the early Virginia
+statutes, was simply a transcript of English laws. In New York, for
+some years in the eighteenth century, the parish poor—there were no
+paupers—were ordered to wear these badges.
+
+This mode of stigmatizing offenders as well as paupers was in force in
+the earlier days of all the colonies. Its existence in New England has
+been immortalized in _The Scarlet Letter_. I have given in my book,
+_Curious Punishments of By-gone Days_, many examples of the wearing of
+significant letters by criminals in various New England towns, in
+Plymouth, Salem, Taunton, Boston, Hartford, New London, also in New
+York. It offered a singular and striking detail of costume to see
+William Bacon in Boston, and Robert Coles in Roxbury, wearing “hanged
+about their necks on their outerd garment a D made of Ridd cloth sett
+on white.” A Boston woman wore a great “B,” not for Boston, but for
+blasphemy. John Davis wore a “V” for viciousness. Others were forced to
+wear for years a heavy cord around the neck, signifying that the
+offender lived under the shadow of the gallows and its rope.
+
+But return we to the metal badge which has caused this diversion to so
+gloomy a subject as crime and punishment. It was simply an oblong plate
+about three and one-half inches long, of humble metal—pinchbeck, or
+alchemy—but plated heavily with gold, therefore readily mistaken for
+solid gold; upon it the telltale initials “P P” had been stamped with a
+die, while smaller letters read “St. J. Psh.” These confirmed my
+immediate suspicions, for I had seen an order of relief for a stricken
+wanderer—an order for two weeks’ relief, where the wardens of “St. J.
+Psh.” ordered the sheriff to send the pauper on—to make him “move
+along” to some other parish. This gold badge was not unlike the metal
+badges worn on the left arm by “Bedlam beggars,” the licensed beggars
+of Bethlehem Hospital, the half-cured patients of that asylum for
+lunatics.
+
+The owner of this badge with ancient letters had not idly accepted
+them, or jumped at the conclusion that it was a decoration of honor for
+his ancestor. He had searched its history long, and he had found in
+Hall’s _Chronicles of the Pageants and Progress of the English Kings_
+ample reference to similar letters, but not as pauper’s badges. Indeed,
+like many another well-read and intelligent person, he had never heard
+of pauper’s badges. He read:—
+
+
+“In this garden was the King and five with him apparyelled in garments
+of purpull satyn, every edge garnished with frysed golde and every
+garment full of posyes made of letters of fine gold, of bullion as
+thick as might be. And six Ladyes wore rochettes rouled with crymosyn
+velvet and set with lettres like Carettes. And after the Kyng and his
+compaignions had daunsed, he appointed the Ladies, Gentlewomen, and
+Ambassadours to take the lettres off their garments in token of
+liberalyte. Which thing the common people perceiving, ranne to them and
+stripped them. And at this banket a shypman of London caught certayn
+lettres which he sould to a goldsmith for £;3. 14s. 8d.”
+
+
+All this was pleasing to the vanity of our friend, who fancied his
+letters as having taken part in a like pageant; perhaps as a gift of
+the king himself. We must remember that he believed his badge of pure
+gold. He did not know it was a base metal, plated. He proudly pictured
+his forbears taking part in some kingly pageant. He scorned so modern
+and commonplace a possibility as a society like Knights of the Golden
+Horseshoe, which was formed of Virginian gentlefolk.
+
+It plainly was a relic of some romance, and in the strangely
+picturesque events of the early years in this New World need not,
+though a pauper’s badge, have been a badge of dishonor. What strange
+event or happening, or scene had it overlooked? Why had it been covered
+with its golden sheet? Was it in defiance or in satire, in remorse, or
+in revenge, or in humble and grateful recognition of some strange and
+protecting Providence? We shall never know. It was certainly not an
+agreeable discovery, to think that your great-grandmother or
+grandfather had probably been branded as a public pauper; but there
+were strange exiles and strange paupers in those days, exiles through
+political parties, through the disfavor of kings, through religious
+conviction, and the pauper of the golden badge, the pauper of “St. J.
+Psh.,” may have ended his days as vestryman of that very church.
+Certain it was, that no ordinary pauper would have, or could have, thus
+preserved it; and from similar reverses and glorifying equally base
+objects came the subjects of half the crests of English heraldry.
+
+
+Pocahontas. Pocahontas.
+
+The likeness of Pocahontas (here) is dated 1616. It is in the dress of
+a well-to-do Englishwoman, a woman of importance and means. This
+portrait has been a shock to many who idealized the Indian princess as
+“that sweet American girl” as Thackeray called her. Especially is it
+disagreeable in many of the common prints from it. One flippant young
+friend, the wife of an army officer, who had been stationed in the far
+West, said of it, in disgust, remembering her frontier residence, “With
+a man’s hat on! just like every old Indian squaw!” This hat is
+certainly displeasing, but it was not worn through Indian taste; it was
+an English fashion, seen on women of wealth as well as of the plainer
+sort. I have a score of prints and photographs of English portraits,
+wherein this mannish hat is shown. In the original of this portrait of
+Pocahontas, the heavy, sombre effect is much lightened by the gold
+hatband. These rich hatbands were one of the articles of dress
+prohibited as vain and extravagant by the Massachusetts magistrates.
+They were costly luxuries. We find them named and valued in many
+inventories in all the colonies, and John Pory, secretary of the
+Virginia colony, wrote about that time to a friend in England a
+sentence which has given, I think to all who read it, an exaggerated
+notion of the dress of Virginians:—
+
+
+“Our cowekeeper here of James citty on Sundays goes accoutred all in
+ffreshe fflaminge silke, and a wife of one that had in England
+professed the blacke arte not of a Scholler but of a Collier weares her
+rough beaver hatt with a faire perle hatband, and a silken sute there
+to correspond.”
+
+
+Corroborative evidence of the richness and great cost of these hatbands
+is found in a letter of Susan Moseley to Governor Yardley of Virginia,
+telling of the exchange of a hatband and jewel for four young cows, one
+older cow and four oxen, on account of her “great want of cattle.” She
+writes on “this Last July 1650, at Elizabeth River in Virginia”:—
+
+
+“I had rayther your wife should weare them then any gentle woman I yet
+know in ye country; but good Sir have _no_ scruple concerninge their
+rightnesse, for I went my selfe from Rotterdam to ye haugh (The Hague)
+to inquire of ye gould smiths and found y’t they weare all Right,
+therefore thats without question, and for ye hat band y’t alone coste
+five hundred gilders as my husband knows verry well and will tell you
+soe when he sees you; for ye Juell and ye ringe they weare made for me
+at Rotterdam and I paid in good rex dollars sixty gilders for ye Juell
+and fivety and two gilders for ye ringe, which comes to in English
+monny eleaven poundes fower shillings. I have sent the sute and Ringe
+by your servant, and I wish Mrs. Yeardley health and prosperity to
+weare them in, and give you both thanks for your kind token. When my
+husband comes home we will see to gett ye Cattell home, in ye meantime
+I present my Love and service to your selfe &; wife, and commit you all
+to God, and remaine,
+
+    “Your friend and servant,
+
+         “SUSAN MOSELEY.”
+
+
+The purchasing value of five hundred guilders, the cost of the hatband,
+would be equal to-day to nearly a thousand dollars.
+
+In the portrait of Pocahontas in the original, there is also much
+liveliness of color, a rich scarlet with heavy braidings; these all
+lessen somewhat the forbidding presence of the stiff hat. She carries a
+fan of ostrich feathers, such as are depicted in portraits of Queen
+Elizabeth.
+
+These feather fans had little looking-glasses of silvered glass or
+polished steel set at the base of the feathers. Euphues says, “The
+glasses you carry in fans of feathers show you to be lighter than
+feathers; the new-found glass chains that you wear about your necks,
+argue you to be more brittle than glass.”
+
+These fans were, in the queen’s hands, as large as hand fire-screens;
+many were given to her as New Year’s gifts or other tokens, one by Sir
+Francis Drake. This makes me believe that they were a fashion taken
+from the North American Indians and eagerly adopted in England; where,
+for two centuries, everything related to the red-men of the New World
+was seized upon with avidity—except their costume.
+
+The hat worn by Pocahontas, or a lower crowned form of it, is seen in
+the Hollar drawing of Puritan women (here), where it seems specially
+ugly and ineffective, and on the Quaker Tub-preacher. It lingered for
+many years, perched on top of French hoods, close caps, kerchiefs, and
+other variety of head-gear worn by women of all ranks; never elegant,
+never becoming. I can think of no reason for its long existence and
+dominance save its costliness. It was not imitated, so it kept its
+place as long as the supply of beaver was ample. This hat was also
+durable. A good beaver hat was not for a year nor even for a
+generation. It lasted easily half a century. But we all know that the
+beaver disappeared suddenly from our forests; and as a sequence the
+beaver hat was no longer available for common wear. It still held its
+place as a splendid, feather-trimmed, rich article of dress, a hat for
+dress wear, and it was then comely and becoming. Within a few years,
+through national and state protection, the beaver, most interesting of
+wild creatures, has increased and multiplied in North America until it
+has become in certain localities a serious pest to lumbermen. We must
+revive the fashion of real beaver hats—that will speedily exterminate
+the race.
+
+
+Duchess of Buckingham and her Two Children. Duchess of Buckingham and
+her Two Children.
+
+It always has seemed strange to me that, in the prodigious interest
+felt in England for the American Indian, an interest shown in the
+thronging, gaping sight-seers that surrounded every taciturn red-man
+who visited the Old World, no fashions of ornament or dress were copied
+as gay, novel, or becoming. The Indian afforded startling detail to
+interest the most jaded fashion-seeker. The _Works of Captain John
+Smith_, Strachey’s _Historie of Travaile into Virginia_, the works of
+Roger Williams, of John Josselyn, the letters of various missionaries,
+give full accounts of their brilliant attire; and many of these works
+were illustrated. The beautiful mantles of the Virginia squaws, made of
+carefully dressed skins, were tastefully fringed and embroidered with
+tiny white beads and minute disks of copper, like spangles, which, with
+the buff of the dressed skin, made a charming color-study—copper and
+buff—picked out with white. Sometimes small brilliant shells or
+feathers were added to the fringes. An Indian princess, writes one
+chronicler, wore a fair white deerskin with a frontal of white coral
+and pendants of “great but imperfect-colored and worse-drilled
+pearls”—our modern baroque pearls. A chain of linked copper encircled
+her neck; and her maid brought to her a mantle called a “puttawas” of
+glossy blue feathers sewed so thickly and evenly that it seemed like
+heavy purple satin.
+
+A traveller wrote thus of an Indian squaw and brave:—
+
+
+“His wife was very well favored, of medium stature and very bashful.
+She had on her back a long cloak of leather, with the fur side next to
+her body. About her forehead she had a band of white coral. In her ears
+she had bracelets of pearls hanging down to her waist. The rest of her
+women of the better sort had pendants of copper hanging in either ear,
+and some of the children of the King’s brother and other noblemen, had
+five or six in either ear. He himself had upon his head a broad plate
+of gold or copper, for being unpolished we knew not which metal it
+might be, neither would he by any means suffer us to take it off his
+head. His apparel was like his wife’s, only the women wear their hair
+long on both sides of the head, and the men on but one side. They are
+of color yellowish, and their hair black for the most part, and yet we
+saw children who had very fine auburn and chestnut colored hair.”
+
+
+John Josselyn wrote of tawny beauties:—
+
+
+“They are girt about the middle with a Zone wrought with Blue and White
+Beads into Pretty Works. Of these Beads they have Bracelets for the
+Neck and Arms, and Links to hang in their Ears, and a Fair Table
+curiously made up with Beads Likewise to wear before their Breast.
+Their Hair they combe backward, and tye it up short with a Border about
+two Handsfull broad, wrought in works as the Other with their Beads.”
+
+
+Powhatan’s “Habit” still exists. It is in England, in the Tradescant
+Collection which formed the nucleus of the Ashmolean Collection. It was
+probably presented by Captain John Smith himself. It is made of two
+deerskins ornamented with “roanoke” shell-work, about seven feet long
+by five feet wide. Roanoke is akin to wampum, but this is made of West
+Indian shells. The figures are circles, a crude human figure and two
+mythical composite animals. He also wore fine mantles of raccoon skins.
+A conjurer’s dress was simply a girdle with a single deerskin, while a
+great blackbird with outstretched wings was fastened to one ear—a
+striking ornament. I am always delighted to read such proof as this of
+a fact that I have ever known, namely, that the American Indian is the
+most accomplished, the most telling _poseur_ the world has ever known.
+The ear of the Indian man and woman was pierced along the entire outer
+edge and filled with long drops, a fringe of coral, gold, and pearl.
+The wives of Powhatan wore triple strings of great pearls close around
+their throats, and a long string over one shoulder, while their mantles
+were draped to show their full handsome neck and arms. Altogether, with
+their carefully dressed hair, they would have made in full dress a fine
+show in a modern opera-box, and, indeed, the Indian squaws did cause
+vast exhibition of curiosity and delight when they visited London and
+were taken sight-seeing and sight-seen.
+
+As early as 1629 an Indian chief with his wife and son came from Nova
+Scotia to England. Lord Poulet paid them much attention in
+Somersetshire, and Lady Poulet took Lady Squaw up to London and gave
+her a necklace and a diamond, which I suppose she wore with her blue
+and white beads.
+
+Be the story of the saving of John Smith by Pocahontas a myth or the
+truth, it forever lives a beautiful and tender reality in the hearts of
+American children. Pocahontas was not the only Indian squaw who played
+a kindly part in the first colonization of this country. There were
+many, though their deeds and names are forgotten; and there was one
+Indian woman whose influence was much greater and more prolonged than
+was that of Pocahontas, and was haloed with many years of exciting
+adventure as well as romance. Let me recount a few details of her life,
+that you may wonder with me that the only trace of Indian life marked
+indelibly on England was found on the swinging signs of inns known by
+the name of “The Bell Savage,” “La Belle Sauvage,” and even “The Savage
+and Bell.”
+
+This second Indian squaw was a South Carolina neighbor of our beloved
+Pocahontas; she had not, alas, the lovely disposition and noble
+character of Powhatan’s daughter. She was systematically and
+constitutionally mischievous, like a rogue elephant, so I call her a
+rogue squaw. Her name was Coosaponakasee. The name is too long and too
+hard to say with frequency, so we will do as did her English friends
+and foes—call her Mary. Indeed, she was baptized Mary, for she was a
+half-breed, and her white father had her reared like a Christian, had
+her educated like an English girl as far as could be done in the little
+primitive settlement of Ponpon, South Carolina. It will be shown that
+the attempt was not over-successful.
+
+She was a princess, the niece of crafty old Brim, the king of two
+powerful tribes of Georgia Indians, the Creeks and Uchees. In 1715,
+when she was about fifteen years old, a fierce Indian war broke out in
+the early spring, and at the defeat of the Indians she promptly left
+her school and her church and went out into the wilds, a savage among
+savages, preferring defeat and a wild summer in the woods with her own
+people to decorous victory within doors with her fellow Christians.
+
+
+A Woman’s Doublet. A Woman’s Doublet. Mrs. Anne Turner.
+
+The following year an Englishman, Colonel John Musgrove, accompanied by
+his son, went out as a mediator to the Creek Indians to secure their
+friendship, or at any rate their neutrality. The young squaw, Mary,
+served as interpreter, and the younger English pacificator promptly
+proved his amicable disposition by falling in love with her. He did
+what was more unusual, he married her; and soon they set up a large
+trading-house on the Savannah River, where they prospered beyond
+belief. On the arrival of the shipload of emigrants sent out by the
+Trustees of Georgia the English found Mary Musgrove and her husband
+already carrying on a large trade, in securing and transacting which
+she had served as interpreter. When Oglethorpe landed, he at once went
+to her, and asked permission to settle near her trading-station. She
+welcomed him, helped him, interpreted for him, and kept things in
+general running smoothly in the settlement between the English and the
+Indians. The two became close friends, and as long as generous but
+confiding Oglethorpe remained, all went well in the settlement; but in
+time he returned to England, giving her a handsome diamond ring in
+token of his esteem. Her husband died soon after and she removed to a
+new station called Mount Venture. Oglethorpe shortly wrote of her:—
+
+
+“I find that there is the utmost endeavour by the Spaniards to destroy
+her because she is of consequence and in the King’s interests; therefor
+it is the business of the King’s friends to support her; besides which
+I shall always be desirous to serve her out of the friendship she has
+shown me as well as the colony.”
+
+
+In a letter of John Wesley’s written to Lady Oglethorpe, and now
+preserved in the Georgia Historical Society, he refers frequently to
+Mary Musgrove, saying:—
+
+
+“I had with me an interpreter the half-breed, Mary Musgrove, and daily
+had meetings for instruction and prayer. One woman was baptized. She
+was of them who came out of great tribulation, her husband and all her
+three children having been drowned four days before in crossing the
+Ogeechee River. Her happiness in the gospel caused me to feel that,
+like Job, the widow’s heart had been caused to sing for joy. She was
+married again the day following her baptism. I suggested longer days of
+mourning. She replied that her first husband was surely dead; and that
+his successor was of much substance, owning a cornfield and gun. I
+doubt the interpreter Mary Musgrove, that she is yet in the valley and
+shadow of darkness.”
+
+
+One can picture the excitement of the Choctaw squaw to lose her husband
+and children, and to get another husband and religion in a week’s time.
+Her reply that her husband “was surely dead” bears a close resemblance
+to the hackneyed story of the response to a charivari query of the
+Dutch bridegroom who had been a widower but a week, “Ain’t my vife as
+deadt as she ever vill be?”
+
+Her usefulness continued. If a “talk” were had with the Indians in
+Savannah, Fredonia, or any other settlement, Mary had to be sent for;
+if Indian warriors had to be hired, to keep an army against the Spanish
+or marauding Indians, Mary obtained them from her own people. If land
+were bought of the Indians, Mary made the trade. She soon married
+Captain Matthews, who had been sent out with a small English troop to
+protect her trading-post; he also speedily died, leaving her free,
+after alliances with trade and war, to find a third husband in
+ecclesiastical circles, in the person of one Chaplain Bosomworth, a
+parson of much pomposity and ambition, and of liberal education without
+a liberal brain. He had had a goodly grant of lands to prompt and
+encourage him in his missionary endeavors; and he was under the
+direction and protection of the Society for the Propagation of the
+Gospel. His mission was to convert the Indians, and he began by
+marrying one; he then proceeded to break the law by bringing in the
+first load of negro slaves in that colony, a trade which was positively
+prohibited by the conditions and laws of the colony. When his illegal
+traffic was stopped, he got his wife to send in back claims to the
+colony of Georgia for $25,000 as interpreter, mediator, agent, etc.,
+for the English. She had already been paid about a thousand dollars.
+This demand being promptly refused, the hitherto pacific and friendly
+Mary, edged on by that sorry specimen of a parson, her husband, began a
+series of annoying and extraordinary capers. She declared herself
+empress of Georgia, and after sending her half-brother, a full-blooded
+Indian, as an advance-courier, she came with a body of Indians to
+Savannah. The Rev. Thomas Bosomworth, decked in full canonical robes,
+headed the Indians by the side of his empress wife, dressed in Indian
+costume; and an imposing procession they made, with plenty of
+theatrical color. At first the desperate colonists thought of seizing
+Mary and shipping her off to England to Oglethorpe, but this notion was
+abandoned. As the English soldiers were very few at that special time,
+and the Indian warriors many, we can well believe that the colonists
+were well scared, the more so that when the Indians were asked the
+reason of their visit, “their answers were very trifling and very
+dark.” So a feast was offered them, but Mary and her brother refused to
+come and to eat; and the dinner was scarcely under way when more armed
+Indians appeared from all quarters in the streets, running up and down
+in an uproar, and the town was in great confusion. The alarm drums were
+beaten, and it was reported that the Indians had cut off the head of
+the president as they sat together at the feast. Every man in the
+colony turned out in full arms for duty, the women and children
+gathered in groups in their homes in unspeakable terror. Then the
+president and his assistants who had been at the dinner, and who had
+gone unarmed to show their friendly intent, did what they should have
+done in the beginning, seized that disreputable specimen of an English
+missionary, the Rev. Mr. Bosomworth, and put him in prison; and we
+wonder they kept their hands off him as long as they did. Still trying
+to settle the matter without bloodshed, the president asked the Indian
+chiefs to adjourn to his house “to drink a glass of wine and talk the
+matter over.” Into this conference came Mary, bereft of her husband,
+raging like a madwoman, threatening the lives of the magistrates,
+swearing she would annihilate the colony. “A fig for your general,”
+screamed she, “you own not a foot of land in this colony. The whole
+earth is mine.” Whereupon the Empress of Georgia, too, was placed under
+military guard.
+
+Then a harassing week of apprehension ensued; the Indians were fed, and
+parleyed with, and reasoned with, and explained to. At last Mary’s
+brother Malatche, at a conference, presented as a final demand a paper
+setting forth plainly the claims of the Indians. The sequel of this
+presentation is almost comic. The paper was so evidently the production
+of Bosomworth, and so wholly for his own personal benefit and not for
+that of the Indians, and the astonishment of the president and his
+council was so great at his vast and open assumption, that the Indians
+were bewildered in turn by the strange and unexpected manner of the
+white men upon reading the paper; and childishly begged to have the
+paper back again “to give to him who made it.” A plain exposition of
+Bosomworth’s greed and craft followed, and all seemed amicably
+explained and settled, and the Creeks offered to smoke the pipe of
+peace; when in came Mary, having escaped her guards, full of rum and of
+rancor. The president said to her in a low voice that unless she ceased
+brawling and quarrelling he would at once put her into close
+confinement; she turned in a rage to her brother, and translated the
+threat. He and every Indian in the room sprang to their feet, drew
+tomahawks, and for a short time a complete massacre was imminent. Then
+the captain of the guard, Captain Noble Jones, who had chafed under all
+this explaining diplomacy, lost his much-tried patience, and like a
+brave and fearless English soldier ordered the Indians to surrender
+arms. Though far greater in number than the English, they yielded to
+his intrepidity and wrath; and the following night and day they sneaked
+out of the town, as ordered, by twos and threes.
+
+For one month this fright and commotion and expense had existed; and at
+last wholly alone were left the two contemptible malcontents and
+instigators of it all. Mr. and Mrs. Bosomworth thereafter ate very
+humble pie; he begged sorely and cried tearfully to be forgiven; and he
+wailed so deeply and promised so broadly that at last the two were
+publicly pardoned.
+
+Yet, after all, they had their own way; for they soon went to London
+and cut an infinitely fine figure there. Mary was the top of the mode,
+and there Bosomworth managed to get for his wife lands and coin to the
+amount of about a hundred thousand dollars.
+
+The prosperous twain returned to America in triumph, and built a
+curious and large house on an island they had acquired; in it the
+Empress did not long reign; at her death the Rev. Mr. Bosomworth
+married his chambermaid.
+
+Such is the sorry tale of the Indian squaw and the English parson, a
+tale the more despicable because, though she had been reared in English
+ways, baptized in the English faith, had been the friend of English men
+and women, and married three English husbands; yet when fifty years old
+she returned at vicious suggestion with promptitude and fierceness to
+violent savage ways, to incite a massacre of her friends. And that
+suggestion came not from her barbarian kin, but from an English
+gentleman—a Christian priest.
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER
+
+_“Things farre-fetched and deare-bought are good for Ladies.”_
+
+—“Arte of English Poesie,” G. PUTTENHAM, 1589.
+
+
+_“I honour a Woman that can honour herself with her Attire. A good Text
+deserves a Fair Margent.”_
+
+—“The Simple Cobbler of Agawam,” J. WARD, 1713.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER
+
+
+T
+
+
+here was a certain family prominent in affairs in the seventeenth and
+eighteenth centuries, with members resident in England, New England,
+and the Barbadoes. They were gentlefolk—and gentle folk; they were of
+birth and breeding; and they were kindly, tender, affectionate to one
+another. They were given to much letter-writing, and better still to
+much letter-keeping. Knowing the quality of their letters, I cannot
+wonder at either habit; for the prevalence of the letter-keeping was
+due, I am sure, to the perfection of the writing. Their letters were
+ever lively in diction, direct and lucid in description, and widely
+varied in interest; therefore they were well worthy of preservation,
+simply for the owner’s re-reading. They have proved so for all who have
+brushed the dust from the packages and deciphered the faded words.
+Moreover, these letters are among the few family letters of our two
+centuries which convey, either to the original reader or to his
+successor of to-day, anything that could, by most generous construction
+or fullest imagination, be deemed equivalent to what we now term News.
+
+Of course their epistles contained many moral reflections and ample
+religious allusions and aspirations; and they even transcribed to each
+other, in full, long Biblical quotations with as much exactness and
+length as if each deemed his correspondent a benighted heathen, with no
+Bible to consult, instead of being an equally pious kinsman with a
+Bible in every room of his house.
+
+Their name was Hall. The heads of the family in early colonial days
+were the merchants John Hall and Hugh Hall; these surnames have
+continued in the family till the present time, as has the cunning of
+hand and wit of brain in letter-writing, even into the seventh and
+eighth generation, as I can abundantly testify from my own private
+correspondence. I have quoted freely in several of my books from old
+family letters and business letter-books of the Hall family. Many of
+these letters have been intrusted to me from the family archives;
+others, especially the business letters, have found their way, through
+devious paths, to our several historical societies; where they have
+been lost in oblivion, hidden through churlishness, displayed in pride,
+or offered in helpfulness, as suited the various humors of their
+custodians. To the safe, wise, and generous guardianship of the
+American Antiquarian Society fell a collection of letters of the years
+1663 to 1684, written from London by the merchant John Hall to his
+mother, Madam Rebekah Symonds, who, after a fourth matrimonial
+venture,—successful, as were all her marriages,—was living, in what
+must have seemed painful seclusion to any Londoner, in the struggling
+little New England hamlet of Ipswich, Massachusetts.
+
+I wish to note as a light-giving fact in regard to these letters that
+the Halls were as happy in marrying as in letter-writing, and as
+assiduous. They married early; they married late. And by each marriage
+increased wonderfully either the number of descendants, or of
+influential family connections, who were often also business
+associates.
+
+Madam Symonds had four excellent husbands, more than her share of good
+fortune. She married Henry Byley in 1636; John Hall in 1641; William
+Worcester in 1650; and Deputy Governor Symonds in 1663. She was,
+therefore, in 1664, scarcely more than a bride (if one may be so termed
+for the fourth time), when many costly garments were sent to her by her
+devoted and loving son, John Hall; she was then about forty-eight years
+of age. Her husband, Governor Symonds, was a gentle and noble old
+Puritan gentleman, a New Englishman of the best type; a Christian of
+missionary spirit who wrote that he “could go singing to his grave” if
+he felt sure that the poor benighted Indians were won to Christ. His
+stepson, John Hall, never failed in respectful and affectionate
+messages to him and sedately appropriate gifts, such as “men’s knives.”
+Governor Symonds had two sons and six married daughters by two—or
+three—previous marriages. He died in Boston in 1678.
+
+A triangle of mutual helpfulness and prosperity was formed by England,
+New England, and the Barbadoes in this widespread relationship of the
+Hall family in matrimony, business, kin, and friendly allies. England
+sent to the Barbadoes English trading-stuffs and judiciously cheap and
+attractive trinkets. The islands sent to New England sugar and
+molasses, and also the young children born in the islands, to be
+educated in Boston schools ere they went to English universities, or
+were presented in the English court and London society. There was one
+school in Boston established expressly for the children of the
+Barbadoes planters. You may read in a later chapter upon the dress of
+old-time children of some naughty grandchildren of John Hall who were
+sent to this Boston school and to the care of another oft-married
+grandmother. In this triangle, New England returned to the Barbadoes
+non-perishable and most lucrative rum and salt codfish—codfish for the
+many fast-days of the Roman Catholic Church; New England rum to
+exchange with profit for slaves, coffee, and sugar. The Barbadoes and
+New England sent good, solid Spanish coin to England, both for
+investment and domestic purchases; and England sent to New England what
+is of value to us in this book—the latest fashions.
+
+
+A Puritan Dame. A Puritan Dame.
+
+When I ponder on the conditions of life in Ipswich at the time these
+letters were written—the few good houses, the small amount of tilled
+land, the entire lack of all the elegancies of social life; when I
+think upon the proximity and ferocity of the Indian tribes and the ever
+present terror of their invasion; when I picture the gloom, the dread,
+the oppression of the vast, close-lying, primeval forest,—then the rich
+articles of dress and elaborate explanation of the modes despatched by
+John Hall to his mother would seem more than incongruous, they would be
+ridiculous, did I not know what a factor dress was in public life in
+that day.
+
+Poor Madam Symonds dreaded deeply lest The Plague be sent to her in her
+fine garments from London; and her dutiful son wrote her to have no
+fear, that he bought her finery himself, in safe shops, from reliable
+dealers, and kept all for a month in his own home where none had been
+infected. But she must have had fear of disaster and death more
+intimately menacing to her home than was The Plague.
+
+She had seen the career of genial Master Rowlandson, a neighbor’s son,
+full of naughtiness, fun, and life. While an undergraduate at Harvard
+College he had written in doggerel what was termed pompously a
+“scandalous libell,” and he had pinned it on the door of Ipswich
+Meeting-house, along with the tax-collector’s and road-mender’s notices
+and the announcement of intending marriages, and the grinning wolves’
+heads brought for reward. For this prank he had been soundly whipped by
+the college president on the College Green; but it did not prevent his
+graduating with honor at the head of his class. He was valedictorian,
+class-orator, class-poet—in fact, I may say that he had full honors. (I
+have to add also that in his case honors were easy; for his class, of
+the year 1652, had but one graduate, himself.) The gay, mischievous boy
+had become a faithful, zealous, noble preacher to the Puritan church in
+the neighboring town of Lancaster; and in one cruel night, in 1676, his
+home was destroyed, the whole town made desolate, his parishioners
+slaughtered, and his wife, Esther Rowlandson, carried off by the savage
+red-men, from whom she was bravely rescued by my far-off grandfather,
+John Hoar. Read the thrilling story of her “captivation” and rescue,
+and then think of Madam Symonds’s finery in her gilt trunk in the
+near-by town. For four years the valley of the Nashua—blood-stained,
+fire-blackened—lay desolate and unsettled before Madam Symonds’s eyes;
+then settlers slowly crept in. But for fifty years Ipswich was not
+deemed a safe home nor free from dread of cruel Indians; “Lovewell’s
+War” dragged on in 1726. But mantuas and masks, whisks and drolls, were
+just as eagerly sought by the governor’s wife as if Esther Rowlandson’s
+capture had been a dream.
+
+There was a soured, abusive, intolerant old fellow in New England in
+the year 1700, a “vituperative epithetizer,” ready to throw mud on
+everything around him (though not working—to my knowledge—in cleaning
+out any mud-holes). He was not abusive because he was a Puritan, but
+because “it was his nature to.” He styled himself a “Simple Cobbler,”
+and he announced himself “willing to Mend his Native Country,
+lamentably tattered both in the upper Leather and in the Sole, with all
+the Honest Stitches he can take,” but he took out his aid in loud
+hammering of his lapstone and noisy protesting against all other
+footwear than his own. I fancy he thought himself another Stubbes. I
+know of no whole soles he set, nor any holes he mended, and his
+“Simple” ideas are so involved in expression, in such twisted
+sentences, and with such “strange Ink-pot termes” and so many Latin
+quotations and derivatives, that I doubt if many sensible folk knew
+what he meant, even in his own day. His words have none of the
+directness, the force, the interest that have the writings of old
+Stubbes. Such words as nugiperous, perquisquilian, ill-shapen-shotten,
+nudistertian, futulous, overturcased, quaematry, surquedryes,
+prodromie, would seem to apply ill to woman’s attire; they really fall
+wide of the mark if intended as weapons, but it was to such vain dames
+as the governor’s wife that the Simple Cobbler applied them. Some of
+the ministers of the colony, terrified by the Indian outbreaks,
+gloomily held the vanity and extravagance of dames and goodwives as
+responsible for them all. Others, with broader minds, could discern
+that both the open and the subtle influence of good clothes was needed
+in the new community. They gave an air of cheerfulness, of substance,
+of stability, which is of importance in any new venture. For the
+governor’s wife to dress richly and in the best London modes added
+lustre to the governor’s office. And when the excitement had quieted
+and the sullen Indian sachem and his tawny braves stalked through the
+little town in their gay, barbaric trappings, they were sensible that
+Madam Symonds’s embroidered satin manteau was rich and costly, even if
+they did not know what we know, that it was the top of the mode.
+
+Governor Symonds’s home in Ipswich was on the ground where the old
+seminary building now stands; but the happy married pair spent much of
+the time at his farm-house on Argilla Farm, on Heart-Break Hill, by
+Labor-in-vain Creek, which was also in Ipswich County. This lonely
+farm, so sad in name, was the only dwelling-place in that region; it
+was so remote that when Indian assault was daily feared, the general
+court voted to station there a guard of soldiers at public expense
+because the governor was “so much in the country’s service.” He says
+distinctly, however, concerning the bargain in the purchase of Argilla
+Farm, that his wife was well content with it.
+
+
+Penelope Winslow. Penelope Winslow.
+
+There were also intimate personal considerations which would apparently
+render so luxurious a wardrobe unnecessary and unsuitable. The age and
+health of the wearer might generally be held to be sufficient reason
+for indifference to such costly, delicate, and gay finery. When Madam
+Symonds was fifty-eight years old, in 1674, her son wrote, “Oh, Good
+Mother, grieved am I to learn that Craziness creeps upon you, yet am I
+glad that you have Faith to look beyond this Life.” Craziness had
+originally no meaning of infirmity of mind; it meant feebleness,
+weakness of body. Her letters evidently informed him of failing health,
+but even that did not hinder the export of London finery.
+
+Governor Symonds’s estate at his death was under £;3000, and Argilla
+Farm was valued only at £;150; yet Madam had a “Manto” which is marked
+distinctly in her son’s own handwriting as costing £;30. She had money
+of her own, and estates in England, of which John Hall kept an account,
+and with the income of which he made these purchases. This manteau was
+of flowered satin, and had silver clasps and a rich pair of embroidered
+satin sleeves to wear with it; it was evidently like a sleeveless cape.
+We must always remember that seventeenth-century accounts must be
+multiplied by five to give twentieth-century values. Even this
+valuation is inadequate. Therefore the £;30 paid for the manteau would
+to-day be £;150; $800 would nearly represent the original value. As it
+was sent in early autumn it was evidently a winter garment, and it must
+have been furred with sable to be so costly.
+
+In the early inventories of all the colonies “a pair of sleeves” is a
+frequent item, and to my delight—when so seldom color is given—I have
+more than once a pair of green sleeves.
+
+“Thy gown was of the grassy green
+   Thy sleeves of satin hanging by,
+ Which made thee be our harvest queen
+   And yet thou wouldst not love me.
+     Green sleeves was all my joy,
+     Green sleeves was my delight,
+     Green sleeves was my Heart of Gold,
+     And who but Lady Green-sleeves!”
+
+
+Let me recount some of “My Good Son’s labors of love and pride in
+London shops” for his vain old mother. She had written in the year 1675
+for lawn whisks, but he is quick to respond that she has made a very
+countrified mistake.
+
+
+“Lawn whisks is not now worn either by Gentil or simple, young or old.
+Instead whereof I have bought a shape and ruffles, what is now the ware
+of the bravest as well as the young ones. Such as goe not with naked
+neckes, wear a black whisk over it. Therefore I have not only bought a
+plain one you sent for, but also a Lustre one, such as are most in
+fashion.”
+
+
+John Hall’s “lustre for whisks” was of course lustring, or lutestring,
+a soft half-lustred pure silk fabric which was worn constantly for two
+centuries. He sent his mother many yards of it for her wear.
+
+We have ample proof that these black whisks were in general wear in
+England. In an account-book of Sarah Fell of Swarthmoor Hall in 1673,
+are these items: “a black alamode whiske for Sister Rachel; a round
+whiske for Susanna; a little black whiske for myself.” This English
+Quaker sends also a colored stuff manteo to her sister; scores of
+English inventories of women’s wardrobes contain precisely similar
+items to those bought by Son Hall. And it is a tribute to the devotion
+of American women to the rigid laws of fashion, even in that early day,
+to find that all whisks, save black whisks and lustring ones, disappear
+at this date from colonial inventories of effects.
+
+She wrote to him for a “side of plum colored leather” for her shoes.
+This was a matter of much concern to him, not at all because this
+leather was a bit gay or extravagant, or frail wear for an elderly
+grandmother, but because it was not the very latest thing in leather.
+He writes anxiously:—
+
+
+“Secondly you sent for Damson-Coloured Spanish Leather for Womans
+Shoes. But there is noe Spanish Leather of that Colour; and Turkey
+Leather is coloured on the grain side only, both of which are out of
+use for Women’s Shoes. Therefore I bought a Skin of Leather that is all
+the mode for Women’s Shoes. All that I fear is, that it is too thick.
+But my Coz. Eppes told me yt such thin ones as are here generally used,
+would by rain and snow in N. England presently be rendered of noe
+service and therefore persuaded me to send this, which is stronger than
+ordinary. And if the Shoemaker fit it well, may not be uneasy.”
+
+
+Perhaps his anxious offices and advices in regard to fans show more
+curiously than other quotations, the insistent attitude of the New
+England mind in regard to the latest fashions. I cannot to-day conceive
+why any woman, young or old, could have been at all concerned in
+Ipswich in 1675 as to which sort of fan she carried, or what was
+carried in London, yet good Son John writes:—
+
+
+“As to the feathered fan, I should also have found it in my heart to
+let it alone, because none but very grave persons (and of them very
+few) use it. That now ’tis grown almost as obsolete as Russets and more
+rare to be seen than a yellow Hood. But the Thing being Civil and not
+very dear, Remembering that in the years 64 and 68, if I mistake not,
+you had Two Fans sent, I have bought one now on purpose for you, and I
+hope you will be pleased.”
+
+
+Evidently the screen-fan of Pocahontas’s day was no longer a novelty.
+His mother had had far more fans that he remembered. In 1664 two
+“Tortis shell fanns” had gone across seas; one had cost five shillings,
+the other ten shillings. The following year came a black feather fan
+with silver handle, and two tortoise-shell fans; in 1666 two more
+tortoise-shell fans; in 1688 another feather fan, and so on. These many
+fans may have been disposed of as gifts to others, but the entire trend
+of the son’s letters, as well as his express directions, would show
+that all these articles were for his mother’s personal use. When finery
+was sent for madam’s daughter, it was so specified; in 1675, when the
+daughter became a bride, Brother John sent her her wedding gloves, ever
+a gift of sentiment. A pair of wedding gloves of that date lies now
+before me. They are mitts rather than gloves, being fingerless. They
+are of white kid, and are twenty-two inches long. They are very wide at
+the top, and have three drawing-strings with gilt tassels; these are
+run in welts about two inches apart, and were evidently drawn into
+puffs above the elbow when worn. A full edging of white Swiss lace and
+a pretty design of dots made in gold thread on the back of the hand,
+form altogether a very costly, elegant, and decorative article of
+dress. I should fancy they cost several pounds. Men’s gloves were
+equally rich. Here are the gold-fringed gloves of Governor Leverett
+worn in 1640.
+
+
+Gold-fringed Gloves of Governor Leverett. Gold-fringed Gloves of
+Governor Leverett.
+
+Of course the only head-gear of Madam Symonds for outdoor wear was a
+hood. Hats were falling in disfavor. I shall tell in a special chapter
+of the dominance at this date and the importance of the French hood.
+Its heavy black folds are shown in the portraits of Rebecca Rawson
+(here), of Madam Simeon Stoddard (here), and on other heads in this
+book. Such a hood probably covered Madam Symonds’s head heavily and
+fully, whene’er she walked abroad; certainly it did when she rode a
+pillion-back. She had other fashionable hoods—all the fashionable
+hoods, in fact, that were worn in England at that time; hoods of
+lustring, of tiffany, of “bird’s-eye”—precisely the same as had Madam
+Pepys, and one of spotted gauze, the last a pretty vanity for summer
+wear. We may remember, in fact, that Madam Symonds was a
+contemporary—across-seas—of Madam Pepys, and wore the same garments;
+only she apparently had richer and more varied garments than did that
+beautiful young woman whose husband was in the immediate employ of the
+king.
+
+Arthur Abbott was the agent in Boston through whom this London finery
+and flummery was delivered to Madam Symonds in safety; and it is an
+amusing side-light upon social life in the colony to know that in 1675
+Abbott’s wife was “presented before the court” for wearing a silk hood
+above her station, and her husband paid the fine. Knowing womankind,
+and knowing the skill and cunning in needlework of women of that day, I
+cannot resist building up a little imaginative story around this
+“presentment” and fine. I believe that the pretty young woman could not
+put aside the fascination of all the beautiful London hoods consigned
+to her husband for the old lady at Ipswich; I suspect she tried all the
+finery on, and that she copied one hood for herself so successfully and
+with such telling effect that its air of high fashion at once caught
+the eye and met with the reproof of the severe Boston magistrates. She
+was the last woman, I believe, to be fined under the colonial sumptuary
+laws of Massachusetts.
+
+The colors of Madam Symonds’s garments were seldom given, but I doubt
+that they were “sad-coloured” or “grave of colour” as we find Governor
+Winthrop’s orders for his wife. One lustring hood was brown; and
+frequently green ribbons were sent; also many yards of scarlet and pink
+gauze, which seem the very essence of juvenility. Her son writes a list
+of gifts to her and the members of her family from his own people:—
+
+
+“A light violet-colored Petti-Coat is my wife’s token to you. The
+Petti-Coat was bought for my wife’s mother and scarcely worn. This my
+wife humbly presents to you, requesting your acceptance of it, for your
+own wearing, as being Grave and suitable for a Person of Quality.”
+
+
+Even a half-worn petticoat was a considerable gift; for petticoats were
+both costly and of infinite needlework. Even the wealthiest folk
+esteemed a gift of partly worn clothing, when materials were so rich.
+Letters of deep gratitude were sent in thanks.
+
+The variety of stuffs used in them was great. Some of these are wholly
+obsolete; even the meaning of their names is lost. In an inventory of
+1644, of a citizen of Plymouth there was, for instance, “a petticoate
+of phillip &; cheny” worth £;1. Much of the value of these petticoats
+was in the handwork bestowed upon them; they were both embroidered and
+elaborately quilted. About 1730, in the Van Cortlandt family, a woman
+was paid at one time £;2 5s. for quilting, a large amount for that day.
+Often we find items of fifteen or twenty shillings for quilting a
+petticoat.
+
+
+Embroidered Petticoat Band. Embroidered Petticoat Band.
+
+The handsomest petticoats were of quilted silk or satin. No pattern was
+so elaborate, no amount of work so large, that it could dismay the
+heart or tire the fingers of an eighteenth-century needlewoman. One
+yellow satin petticoat has a lining of stout linen. These are quilted
+together in an exquisite irregular design of interlacing ribbons,
+slender vines, and long, narrow leaves, all stuffed with white cord.
+Though the general effect of this pattern is very regular, an
+examination shows it is not a set design, but must have been drawn as
+well as worked by the maker. Another petticoat has a curious design
+made with two shades of blue silk cord sewed on in a pattern. Another
+of infinite work has a design outlined in tiny rolls of satin.
+
+These petticoats had many flat trimmings; laces of silver, gold, or
+silk thread were used, galloons and orrice. Tufts of fringed silk were
+dotted in clusters and made into fly-fringe. Bridget Neal, writing in
+1685 to her sister, says:—
+
+
+“I am told las is yused on petit-coats. Three fringes is much yused,
+but they are not set on the petcot strait, but in waves; it does not
+look well, unless all the fringes yused that fashion is the plane
+twisted fring not very deep. I hear some has nine fringes sett in this
+fashion.”
+
+
+Anxiety to please his honored mother, and desire that she should be
+dressed in the top of the mode, show in every letter of John Hall:—
+
+
+“I bought your muffs of my Coz. Jno. Rolfe who tells me they are worth
+more money than I gave for them. You desired yours Modish yet Long; but
+here with us they are now much shorter. These were made a Purpose for
+you. As to yr Silk Flowered Manto, I hope it may please you; Tis not
+the Mode to lyne you now at all; but if you like to have it soe, any
+silke will serve, and may be done at yr pleasure.”
+
+
+In 1663 Pepys notes (with his customary delight at a new fashion,
+mingled with fear that thereby he might be led into more expense) that
+ladies at the play put on “vizards which hid the whole face, and had
+become a great fashion; and _so_ to the Exchange to buy a Vizard for my
+wife.” Soon he added a French mask, which led to some unpleasant
+encounters for Mrs. Pepys with dissolute courtiers on the street. The
+plays in London were then so bold and so bad that we cannot wonder at
+the masks of the play-goers. The masks concealed constant blushes; but
+wearers and hearers did not stay away, for neither eyes nor ears were
+covered by the mask. Busino tells of a woman at the theatre all in
+yellow and scarlet, with two masks and three pairs of gloves, worn one
+pair over the other. Suddenly out came disappointing Queen Anne with
+her royal command that the plays be refined and reformed, and then
+masks were abandoned.
+
+
+Blue Brocade Gown and Quilted Satin Petticoat. Blue Brocade Gown and
+Quilted Satin Petticoat.
+
+Masks were in those years in constant wear in the French court and
+society, as a protection to the complexion when walking or riding.
+Sometimes plain glass was fitted in the eye-holes. French masks had
+wires which fastened behind the ears, or a mouthpiece of silver; or
+they had an ingenious and simple stay in the form of two strings at the
+corners of the mouth-opening of the mask. These strings ended in a
+silver button or glass bead. With a bead held firmly in either corner
+of her mouth, the mask-wearer could talk. These vizards are seen in old
+English wood-cuts, often hanging by the side, fastened to the belt with
+a small cord or chain. They brought forth the bitter denunciations of
+the old Puritan Stubbes. He writes in his _Anatomie of Abuses_:—
+
+
+“When they vse to ride abroad, they haue visors made of ueluet (or in
+my iudgment they may rather be called inuisories) wherewith they couer
+all their faces, hauing holes made in them agaynst their eies, whereout
+they looke. So that if a man that knew not their guise before, shoulde
+chaunce to meete one of theme, he would thinke he mette a monster or a
+deuill; for face he can see none, but two broad holes against their
+eyes with glasses in them.”
+
+
+Masks were certainly worn to a considerable extent in America. As early
+as 1645, masks were forbidden in Plymouth, Massachusetts, “for improper
+purposes.” When you think of the Plymouth of that year, its few houses
+and inhabitants, its desperate struggle to hold its place at all as a
+community, the narrow means of its citizens, the comparatively scant
+wardrobes of the wives and daughters, this restriction as to
+mask-wearing seems a grim jest. They were for sale in Salem and Boston,
+black velvet masks worth two shillings each; but these towns were more
+flourishing than Plymouth. And New York dames had them, and the
+planters’ wives of Virginia and South Carolina.
+
+I suppose Madam Symonds wore her mask when she mounted on a pillion
+behind some strong young lad, and rode out to Argilla Farm.
+
+A few years later than the dates when Madam Symonds was ordering these
+fashionable articles of dress from England a rhyming catalogue of a
+lady’s toilet was written by John Evelyn and entitled, _Mundus
+Muliebris or a Voyage to Mary-Land_; it might be a list of Madam
+Symonds’s wardrobe. Some of the lines run:—
+
+“One gown of rich black silk, which odd is
+Without one coloured embroidered boddice.
+Three manteaux, nor can Madam less
+Provision have for due undress.
+Of under-boddice three neat pair
+Embroidered, and of shoes as fair;
+Short under petticoats, pure fine,
+Some of Japan stuff, some of Chine,
+With knee-high galoon bottomed;
+Another quilted white and red,
+With a broad Flanders lace below.
+Three night gowns of rich Indian stuff;
+Four cushion-cloths are scarce enough.
+A manteau girdle, ruby buckle,
+And brilliant diamond ring for knuckle.
+Fans painted and perfumed three;
+Three muffs of ermine, sable, grey.”
+
+
+Other articles of personal and household comfort were gathered in
+London shops by her dutiful son and sent to Madam Symonds. The list is
+full of interest, and helps to fill out the picture of daily life. He
+despatched to her cloves, nutmegs, spices, eringo roots, “coronation”
+and stock-gilly-flower seed, “colly flower seed,” hearth brushes (these
+came every year), silver whistles and several pomanders and
+pomander-beads, bouquet-glasses (which could hardly have been the bosom
+bottles which were worn later), necklaces, amber beads, many and varied
+pins, needles, silk lacings, kid gloves, silver ink-boxes, sealing-wax,
+gilt trunks, fancy boxes, painted desks, tape, ferret, bobbin, bone
+lace, calico, gimp, many yards of ducape, lustring, persian, and other
+silk stuffs—all these items of transport show the son’s devoted
+selection of the articles his mother wished. Gowns seem never to have
+been sent, but manteaus, mantles, and “ferrandine” cloaks appear
+frequently. Of course there are some articles which cannot be
+positively described to-day, such as the “shape, with ruffles” and
+“double pleated drolls” and “lace drolls” which appear several times on
+the lists. These “drolls” were, I believe, the “drowlas” of Madame de
+Lange, in New Amsterdam. “Men’s knives” occasionally were sent, and
+“women’s knives” many times. These latter had hafts of ivory, agate,
+and “Ellotheropian.” This Ellotheropian or Alleteropeain or
+Illyteropian stone has been ever a great puzzle to me until in another
+letter I chanced to find the spelling Hellotyropian; then I knew the
+real word was the Heliotropium of the ancients, our blood-stone. It was
+a favorite stone of the day not only for those fancy-handled knives,
+but for seals, finger-rings and other forms of ornament.
+
+A few books were on the list,—a Greek Lexicon ordered as a gift for a
+student; a very costly Bible, bound in velvet, with silver clasps, the
+expense of which was carefully detailed down to the Indian silk for the
+inner-end leaves; “_Dod on Commandments_—my Ant Jane said you had a
+fancie for it, and I have bound it in green plush for you.” Fancy any
+one having a fancy for Dod on anything! and fancy Dod in green plush
+covers!
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS
+
+
+_This day the King began to put on his vest; and I did see several
+persons of the House of Lords and Commons too, great courtiers who are
+in it, being a long cassock close to the body, of long cloth, pinked
+with white silk under it, and a coat over it, and the legs ruffled with
+white ribbon like a pigeon’s leg; and upon the whole I wish the King
+may keep it, for it is a very fine and handsome garment._
+
+—“Diary,” SAMUEL PEPYS, October 8, 1666.
+
+
+_Fashion then was counted a disease and horses died of it._
+
+—“The Gulls Hornbook,” ANDREW DEKKER, 1609.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS
+
+
+B
+
+
+oth word and garment—coat—are of curious interest, one as a
+philological study, the other as an evolution. A singular transfer of
+meaning from cot or cote, a house and shelter, to the word coat, used
+for a garment, is duplicated in some degree in chasuble, casule, and
+cassock; the words body, and bodice; and corse or corpse, and corselet
+and corset. The word coat, meaning a garment for men for covering the
+upper part of the body, has been in use for centuries; but of very
+changeable and confusing usage, for it also constantly meant petticoat.
+The garment itself was a puzzle, for many years; most bewildering of
+all the attire which was worn by the first colonists was the elusive,
+coatlike over-garment called in shipping-lists, tailors’ orders,
+household inventories, and other legal and domestic records a doublet,
+a jerkin, a jacket, a cassock, a paltock, a coat, a horseman’s coat, an
+upper-coat, and a buff-coat. All these garments resembled each other;
+all closed with a single row of buttons or points or hooks and eyes.
+There was not a double-breasted coat in the _Mayflower_, nor on any man
+in any of the colonies for many years; they hadn’t been invented. Let
+me attempt to define these several coatlike garments.
+
+
+A Plain Jerkin. A Plain Jerkin.
+
+In 1697 a jerkin was described by Randle Holme as “a kind of jacket or
+upper doublet, with four skirts or laps.” These laps were made by slits
+up from the hem to the belt-line, and varied in number, but four on
+each side was a usual number, or there might be a slit up the back, and
+one on each hip, which would afford four laps in all. Mr. Knight, in
+his notes on Shakespere’s use of the word, conjectures that the jerkin
+was generally worn over the doublet; but one guess is as good as
+another, and I guess it was not. I agree, however, with his surmise
+that the two garments were constantly confounded; in truth it is not a
+surmise, it is a fact. Shakespere expressed the situation when he said
+in _The Two Gentlemen of Verona_, “My jerkin is a doublet;” and I fancy
+there was slight difference in the garments, save that in the beginning
+the doublet was always of two thicknesses, as its name indicates; and
+it was wadded.
+
+As the jerkin was often minutely slashed, it could scarcely have been
+wadded; though it may have had a lining for special display through the
+slashes.
+
+A jerkin had no skirts in our modern sense of the word,—a piece set on
+at the waist-line,—nor could it on that account be what we term a coat,
+nor was it a coat, nor was it what the colonists deemed a coat.
+
+The old Dutch word is _jurkken_, and it was often thus spelt, which has
+led some to deem it a Dutch name and article of dress. But then it was
+also spelt _irkin, ircken, jorken, jorgen, erkyn_, and _ergoin_—which
+are not Dutch nor any other tongue. Indeed, under the name _ergoin_ I
+wonder that we recognize it or that it knew itself. A jerkin was often
+of leather like a buff-coat, but not always so.
+
+Sir Richard Saltonstall wears a buff-coat, with handsome sword-belt, or
+trooping-belt, and rich gloves. His portrait is shown here. As we look
+at his fine countenance we think of Hawthorne’s words:—
+
+
+“What dignitary is this crossing to greet the Governor. A stately
+personage in velvet cloak—with ample beard and a gold band across his
+breast. He has the authoritative port of one who has filled the highest
+civic position in the first of cities. Of all men in the world, we
+should least expect to meet the Lord Mayor of London—as Sir Richard
+Saltonstall has been once and again—in a forest-bordered settlement in
+the western wilderness.”
+
+
+A fine buff-coat and a buff-coat sleeve are given in the chapter upon
+Armor.
+
+All the early colonial inventories of wearing-apparel contain doublets.
+Richard Sawyer died in 1648 in Windsor, Connecticut; he was a plain
+average “Goodman Citizen.” A part of his apparel was thus inventoried:—
+
+£;	 s.	d. 1 musck-colour’d cloth doublitt &; breeches	1 1
+bucks leather doublitt		12 1 calves leather doublitt		6 1
+liver-colour’d doublitt &; jacket &; breeches		7 1 haire-colour’d
+doublitt &; jackett &; breeches 		5 1 paire canvas
+drawers		1	6 1 olde coate. 1 paire old gray breeches		5
+1 stuffe jackett		2	6
+
+William Kempe of “Duxborrow,” a settler of importance, died in 1641.
+His wardrobe was more varied, and ample and rich. He left two
+buff-coats and leather doublets with silver buttons; cloth doublets,
+three horsemen’s coats, “frize jerkines,” three cassocks, two cloaks.
+
+Of course we turn to Stubbes to see what he can say for or against
+doublets. His outcry here is against their size; and those who know the
+“great pease-cod-bellied doublets” of Elizabeth’s day will agree with
+him that they look as if a man were wholly gone to “gourmandice and
+gluttonie.”
+
+
+A Doublet. A Doublet.
+
+Stubbes has a very good list of coats and jerkins in which he gives
+incidentally an excellent description by which we may know a
+mandillion:—
+
+
+“Their coates and jerkins as they be diuers in colours so be they
+diuers in fashions; for some be made with collars, some without, some
+close to the body, some loose, which they call mandilians, couering the
+whole body down to the thigh, like bags or sacks, that were drawne ouer
+them, hiding the dimensions and lineaments of the body. Some are
+buttoned down the breast, some vnder the arme, and some down the backe,
+some with flaps over the brest, some without, some with great sleeves,
+some with small, some with none at all, some pleated and crested behind
+and curiously gathered and some not.”
+
+
+An old satirical print, dated 1644, gives drawings of men of all the
+new varieties of religious belief and practices which “pestered
+Christians” at the beginning of the century. With the exception of the
+Adamite, whose garb is that of Adam in the Garden of Eden, all ten wear
+doublets. These vary slightly, much less than in Stubbes’s list of
+jerkins. One is open up the back with buttons and button-loops. Another
+has the “four laps on a side,” showing it is a jerkin. Another is
+opened on the hips; one is slit at back and hips. All save one from
+neck to hem are buttoned in front with a single row of buttons, with no
+lapells, collar, or cuffs, and no “flaps,” no ornaments or trimming. A
+linen shirt-cuff and a plain band finish sleeves and neck of all save
+the Arminian, who wears a small ruff. Not one of these doublets is a
+graceful or an elegant garment. All are shapeless and over-plain; and
+have none of the French smartness that came from the spreading
+coat-skirts of men’s later wear.
+
+The welts or wings named in the early sumptuary laws were the pieces of
+cloth set at the shoulder over the arm-hole where body and sleeves
+meet. The welt was at first a sort of epaulet, but grew longer and
+often set out, thus deserving its title of wings.
+
+A dress of the times is thus described:—
+
+
+“His doublet was of a strange cut, the collar of it was up so high and
+sharp as it would cut his throat. His wings according to the fashion
+now were as little and diminutive as a Puritan’s ruff.”
+
+
+A note to this says that “wings were lateral projections, extending
+from each shoulder”—a good round sentence that by itself really means
+nothing. Ben Jonson calls them “puff-wings.”
+
+There is one positive rule in the shape of doublets; they were always
+welted at the arm-hole. Possibly the sleeves were sometimes sewn in,
+but even then there was always a cap, a welt or a hanging sleeve or
+some edging. In the illustrations of the _Roxburghe Ballads_ there is
+not a doublet or jerkin on man, woman, or child but is thus welted.
+Some trimming around the arm-hole was a law. This lasted until the coat
+was wholly evolved. This had sleeves, and the shoulder-welt vanished.
+
+These welts were often turreted or cut in squares. You will note this
+turreted shoulder in some form on nearly all the doublets given in the
+portraits displayed in this book—both on men and women. For doublets
+were also worn by women. Stubbes says, “Though this be a kind of attire
+proper only to a man, yet they blush not to wear it.” The old print of
+the infamous Mrs. Turner given here shows her in a doublet.
+
+
+The high borne Prince Iames Dvke of Yorke borne October = the 13.1633
+James, Duke of York.
+
+Another author complains:—
+
+
+“If Men get up French standing collars Women will have the French
+standing collar too: if Dublets with little thick skirts, so short none
+are able to sit upon them, women’s foreparts are thick skirted too.”
+
+
+Children also had doublets and this same shoulder-cap at the arm-hole;
+their little doublets were made precisely like those of their parents.
+Look at the childish portrait of Lady Arabella Stuart, the portrait
+with the doll. Her fat little figure is squeezed in a doublet which has
+turreted welts like those worn by Anne Boleyn and by Pocahontas (shown
+here). Often a button was set between each square of the welt, and the
+sleeve loops or points could be tied to these buttons and thus hold up
+the detached undersleeves. The portrait of Sir Richard Saltonstall
+vaguely shows these buttons. Nearly all these garments-jerkins,
+jackets, doublets, buff-coats, paltocks, were sleeveless, especially
+when worn as the uppermost or outer garment. Holinshed tells of
+“doublets full of jagges and cuts and sleeves of sundry colours.” These
+welts were “embroidered, indented, waved, furred, chisel-punched,
+dagged,” as well as turreted. On one sleeve the turreted welt varied,
+the middle square or turret was long, the others each two inches
+shorter. Thus the sleeve-welt had a “crow-step” shape. A charming
+doublet sleeve of Elizabeth’s day displayed a short hanging sleeve that
+was scarce more than a hanging welt. This was edged around with crystal
+balls or buttons. Other welts were scalloped, with an eyelet-hole in
+each scallop, like the edge of old ladies’ flannel petticoats.
+Othersome welts were a round stuffed roll. This roll also had its day
+around the petticoat edge, as may be seen in the petticoat of the child
+Henry Gibbes. This roll still appears on Japanese kimonos.
+
+We are constantly finding complaints of the unsuitably ambitious attire
+of laboring folk in such sentences as this:—
+
+
+“The plowman, in times past content in russet, must now-a-daies have
+his doublett of the fashion with wide cuts; his fine garters of
+Granada, to meet his Sis on Sunday. The fair one in russet frock and
+mockaldo sleeves now sells a cow against Easter to buy her silken
+gear.”
+
+
+Velvet jerkins and damask doublets were for men of dignity and estate.
+Governor Winthrop had two tufted velvet jerkins.
+
+Jerkins and doublets varied much in shape and detail:—
+
+
+“These doublets were this day short-waisted, anon, long-bellied;
+by-and-by-after great-buttoned, straight-after plain-laced, or else
+your buttons as strange for smallness as were before for bigness.”
+
+
+
+
+An Embroidered Jerkin. An Embroidered Jerkin.
+
+In Charles II’s time at the May-pole dances still appear the old,
+welted doublets. Jack may have worn Cicily’s doublet, and Peg may have
+borrowed Will’s for all the difference that can be seen. The man’s
+doublet did not ever have long, hanging sleeves, however, in the
+seventeenth century, while women wore such sleeves.
+
+Sometimes the sleeves were very large, as in the Bowdoin portrait
+(here). The great puffs were held out by whalebones and rolls of
+cotton, and “tiring-sleeves” of wires, a fashion which has obtained for
+women at least seven times in the history of English costume. Gosson
+describes the vast sleeves of English doublets thus;—
+
+“This Cloth of Price all cut in ragges,
+    These monstrous bones that compass arms,
+These buttons, pinches, fringes, jagges,
+    With them he (the Devil) weaveth woeful harms.”
+
+
+We have seen how bitterly the slashing of good cloth exercised good
+men. The “cutting in rags” was slashing.
+
+A favorite pattern of slashing is in small, narrow slits as shown in
+the portrait here of James Douglas. These jerkins are of leather, and
+the slashes are of course ornamental, and are also for health and
+comfort, as those know who wear chamois jackets with perforated holes
+throughout them, or slashes if we choose to call them so. They permit a
+circulation of the skin and a natural condition. These jerkins are
+slashed in curious little cuts, “carved of very good intail,” as was
+said of King Henry’s jerkin, which means, in modern English, cut in
+very good designs. And I presume, being of buff leather, the slashes
+were simply cut, not overcast or embroidered as were some wool stuffs.
+
+The guard was literally a guard to the seam, a strip of galloon, silk,
+lace, velvet, put on over the seam to protect and strengthen it.
+
+The large openings or slashes were called panes. Fynes Mayson says,
+“Lord Mountjoy wore jerkins and round hose with laced panes of russet
+cloth.” The Swiss dress was painted by Coryat as doublet and hose of
+panes intermingled of red and yellow, trimmed with long puffs of blue
+and yellow rising up between the panes. It was necessarily a costly
+dress. Of course this is the same word with the same meaning as when
+used in the term a “pane of glass.”
+
+The word “pinches” refers to an elaborate pleating which was worn for
+years; it lingered in America till 1750, and we have revived it in what
+we term “accordion pleating.” The seventeenth-century pinching was
+usually applied to lawn or some washable stuff; and there must have
+been a pinching, a goffering machine by which the pinching was done to
+the washed garment by means of a heated iron.
+
+
+John Lilburne. John Lilburne.
+
+Pinched sleeves, pinched partlets, pinched shirts, pinched wimples,
+pinched ruffs, are often referred to, all washable garments. The good
+wife of Bath wore a wimple which was “y-pinched full seemly.” Henry
+VIII wore a pinched habit-shirt of finest lawn, and his fine, healthy
+skin glowed pink through the folds of the lawn after his hearty
+exercise at tennis and all kinds of athletic sports, for which he had
+thrown off his doublet. We are taught to deem him “a spot of grease and
+blood on England’s page.” There was more muscle than fat in him; he
+could not be restrained from constant, violent, dangerous exercise;
+this was one of the causes of the admiration of his subjects.
+
+The pinched partlet made a fine undergarment for the slashed doublet.
+
+So full, so close, were these “pinchings,” that one author complained
+that men wearing them could not draw their bowstrings well. It was said
+that the “pinched partlet and puffed sleeves” of a courtier would
+easily make a lad a doublet and cloak.
+
+In my chapter on Children’s Dress I tell of the pinched shirt worn by
+Governor Bradford when an infant, and give an illustration of it.
+
+Aglets or tags were a pretty fashion revived for women’s wear three
+years ago. Under Stuart reign, these aglets were of gold or silver, and
+set with precious stones such as pear-shaped pearls. For ordinary wear
+they were of metal, silk, or leather. They secured from untwisting or
+ravelling the points which were worn for over a century; these were
+ties or laces of ribbon, or woollen yarn or leather, decorated with
+tags or aglets at one end. Points were often home-woven, and were
+deemed a pretty gift to a friend. They were employed instead of buttons
+in securing clothes, and were used by the earliest settlers, chiefly, I
+think, as ornaments at the knee or for holding up the stockings in the
+place of garters. They were regarded as but foolish vanities, and were
+one of the articles of finery tabooed in early sumptuary laws. In 1651
+the general court of Massachusetts expressed its “utter detestation and
+dislike that men of meane condition, education and calling should take
+upon them the garbe of gentlemen by the wearinge of poynts at the
+knees.” Fashion was more powerful than law; the richly trimmed,
+sashlike garters quickly displaced the modest points.
+
+The Earl of Southampton, friend of Shakespere and of Virginia, as
+pictured on a later page, wears a doublet with agletted points around
+his belt, by which breeches and doublet are tied together. This is a
+striking portrait. The face is very noble. A similar belt was the
+favorite wear of Charles I.
+
+Martin Frobisher, the hero of the Armada, wears a jerkin fastened down
+the front with buttons and aigletted points. (See here.) I suppose,
+when the fronts of the jerkin were thoroughly joined, each button had a
+point twisted or tied around it. Frobisher’s lawn ruff is a modest and
+becoming one. This portrait in the original is full length. The
+remainder of the costume is very plain; it has no garters, no
+knee-points, no ribbons, no shoe-roses. The foot-covering is Turkish
+slippers precisely like the Oriental slippers which are imported
+to-day.
+
+The Earl of Morton (here) wore a jerkin of buff leather curiously
+pinked and slashed. Fulke Greville’s doublet (here) has a singular puff
+around the waist, like a farthingale.Here is shown a doublet of the
+commonest form; this is worn by Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire.
+The portrait is painted by Sir Antonio More—the portrait of one artist
+by another, and a very fine one, too.
+
+Another garment, which is constantly named in lists of clothing, was
+the cassock. Steevens says a cassock “signifies a horseman’s loose
+coat, and is used in that sense by the writers of the age of
+Shakespere.” It was apparently a garment much like a doublet or jerkin,
+and the names were used interchangeably. I think the cassock was longer
+than the doublet, and without “laps.” The straight, long coats shown on
+the gentlemen in the picture here were cassocks. The name finally
+became applied only to the coat or gown of the clergy. In the will of
+Robert Saltonstall, made in 1650, he names a “Plush Cassock,” but cloth
+cassocks were the commonest wear.
+
+There were other names for the doublet which are now difficult to place
+precisely. In the reign of Henry VIII a law was passed as to men’s wear
+of velvet in their sleeveless cotes, jackets, and jupes. This word jupe
+and its ally jupon were more frequently heard in women’s lists; but
+jump, a derivative, was man’s wear. Randle Holme said: “A jump
+extendeth to the thighs; is open and buttoned before, and may have a
+slit half way behind.” It might be with or without sleeves—all this
+being likewise true of the doublet. From this jump descended the modern
+jumper and the eighteenth century jumps—what Dr. Johnson defined in one
+of his delightsome struggles with the names of women’s attire, “Jumps:
+a kind of loose or limber stays worn by sickly ladies.”
+
+
+Colonel William Legge. Colonel William Legge.
+
+Coats were not furnished to the Massachusetts or Plymouth planters, but
+those of Piscataquay in New Hampshire had “lined coats,” which were
+simply doublets like all the rest.
+
+In 1633 we find that Governor Winthrop had several dozen scarlet coats
+sent from England to “the Bay.” The consigner wrote, “I could not find
+any Bridgwater cloth but Red; so all the coats sent are red lined with
+blew, and lace suitable; which red is the choise color of all.” These
+coats of double thickness were evidently doublets.
+
+The word “coat” in the earliest lists must often refer to a waistcoat.
+I infer this from the small cost of the garments, the small amount of
+stuff it took to make them, and because they were worn with “Vper
+coats”—upper coats. Raccoon-skin and deerskin coats were many; these
+were likewise waistcoats, and the first lace coats were also
+waistcoats. Robert Keayne of Boston had costly lace coats in 1640,
+which he wore with doublets—these likewise were waistcoats.
+
+As years go on, the use of the word becomes constant. There were
+“moose-coats” of mooseskin. Josselyn says mooseskin made excellent
+coats for martial men. Then come papous coats and pappous coats. These
+I inferred—since they were used in Indian trading—were for pappooses’
+wear, pappoose being the Indian word for child. But I had a painful
+shock in finding in the _Traders’ Table of Values_ that “3 Pappous
+Skins equal 1 Beaver”—so I must not believe that pappoose here means
+Indian baby. Match-coats were originally of skins dressed with the fur
+on, shaped in a coat like the hunting-shirt. The “Duffield Match-coat”
+was made of duffels, a woollen stuff, in the same shape. Duffels was
+called match-cloth. The word “coat” here is not really an English word;
+it is matchigode, the Chippewa Indian name for this garment.
+
+
+[Illustration: Sir Thomas Orchard, Knight]
+
+We have in old-time letters and accounts occasional proof that the coat
+of the Puritan fathers was not at all like the shapely coat of our day.
+We have also many words to prove that the coat was a doublet which, as
+old Stubbes said, could be “pleated, or crested behind and curiously
+gathered.”
+
+The tailor of the Winthrop family was one John Smith; he made garments
+for them all, father, mother, children, and children’s wives, and
+husband’s sisters, nieces, cousins, and aunts. He was a good Puritan,
+and seems to have been much esteemed by Winthrop. One letter
+accompanying a coat runs: “Good Mr. Winthrop, I have, by Mr. Downing’s
+direction sent you a coat, a sad foulding colour without lace. For the
+fittness I am a little vncerteyne, but if it be too bigg or too little
+it is esie to amend, vnder the arme to take in or let out the lyning;
+the outside may be let out in the gathering or taken in also without
+any prejudice.” This instruction would appear to prove not only that
+the coat was a doublet, “curiously gathered” but that the “fittness”
+was more than “uncerteyne” of the coats of the Fathers. Since even such
+wildly broad directions could not “prejudice” the coat, we may assume
+that Governor Winthrop was more easily suited as to the cut of his
+apparel, than would have been Sir Walter Raleigh or Sir Philip Sidney.
+
+Though Puritan influence on dress simplified much of the flippery and
+finery of the days of Elizabeth and James, and the refining elegance of
+Van Dyck gave additional simplicity as well as beauty to women’s
+attire, which it retained for many years, still there lingered
+throughout the seventeenth century, ready to spring into fresh life at
+a breath of encouragement, many grotesqueries of fashion in men’s dress
+which, in the picturesque sneer of the day, were deemed meet only for
+“a changeable-silk-gallant.” At the restoration of the crown, courtiers
+seemed to love to flaunt frivolity in the faces of the Puritans.
+
+One of these trumperies came through the excessive use of ribbons, a
+use which gave much charm to women’s dress, but which ever gave to
+men’s garments a finicky look. Beribboned doublets came in the
+butterfly period, between worm and chrysalis, between doublet and coat;
+beribboned breeches were eagerly adopted.
+
+Shown here is the copy of an old print, which shows the dress of an
+estimable and sensible gentleman, Sir Thomas Orchard, with ribbon-edged
+garments and much galloon or laces. It is far too much trimmed to be
+rich or elegant. See also _The English Antick_ on this page, from a
+rare broadside. His tall hat is beribboned and befeathered; his face is
+patched, ribbons knot his love-locks, his breeches are edged with
+agletted ribbons, and “on either side are two great bunches of ribbons
+of several colors.” Similar knots are at wrists and belt. His boots are
+fringed with lace, and so wide that he “straddled as he went along
+singing.”
+
+
+The English Antick. The English Antick.
+
+Ribboned sleeves like those of Colonel Legge, here, were a pretty
+fashion, but more suited to women’s wear than to men’s.
+
+George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, tells us what he thought of such
+attire. He wrote satirically:—
+
+
+“If one have store of ribands hanging about his waist or his knees and
+in his hat; of divers colours red, white black or yellow, O! then he is
+a brave man. He hath ribands on his back, belly and knees, and his hair
+powdered, this is the array of the world. Are not these that have got
+ribands hanging about their arms, hands, back, waist, knees, hats, like
+fiddlers’ boys? And further if one get a pair of breeches like a coat
+and hang them about with points, and tied up almost to the middle, a
+pair of double cuffs on his hands, and a feather in his cap, here is a
+gentleman!”
+
+
+These beribboned garments were a French mode. The breeches were the
+“rhingraves” of the French court, which were breeches made wholly of
+loops of ribbons—like two ribboned petticoats. They caught the eye of
+seafaring men; we know that Jack ashore loves finery. We are told of
+sea-captains wearing beribboned breeches as they came into quiet little
+American ports, and of one English gallant landing from a ship in sober
+Boston, wearing breeches made wholly from waist to knee of overlapping
+loops of gay varicolored ribbon. It is recorded that “the boys did
+wonder and call out thereat,” and they “were chided therefor.” It is
+easy to picture the scene: the staring boys, born in Boston, of Puritan
+parents, of dignified dress, and more familiar with fringes on the
+garments of savage Indians than on the breeches of English gentlemen;
+we can see the soberly reproving minister or schoolmaster looking with
+equal disapproval on the foppish visitor and the mannerless boys; and
+the gayly dressed ship’s captain, armed with self-satisfaction and
+masculine vanity, swaggering along the narrow streets of the little
+town. It mattered not what he wore or what he did, a seafaring man was
+welcome. I wonder what the governor thought of those beribboned
+breeches! Perhaps he ordered a pair from London for himself,—of
+sad-colored ribbons,—offering the color as a compromise for the
+over-gayety of the ribbons. Randle Holme gave in 1658 three
+descriptions of the first petticoat-breeches, with drawings of each.
+One had the lining lower than the breeches, and tied in about the
+knees; ribbons extended halfway up the breeches, and ribbons hung out
+from the doublet all about the waistband. The second had a single row
+of pointed ribbons hanging all around the lower edge of the breeches;
+these were worn with stirrup-hose two yards wide at the top, tied by
+points and eyelet-holes to the breeches. The third had stirrup-hose
+tied to the breeches, and another pair of hose over them turned down at
+the calf of the leg, and the ribbons edged the stirrup-hose. His
+drawings of them are foolish things—not even pretty. He says ribbons
+were worn first at the knees, then at the waist at the doublet edge,
+then around the neck, then on the wrists and sleeves. These
+knee-ribbons formed what Dryden called in 1674 “a dangling
+knee-fringe.” It is difficult for me to think of Dryden living at that
+period of history. He seems to me infinitely modern in comparison with
+it. Evelyn describes the wearer of such a suit as “a fine silken
+thing”; and tells that the ribbons were of “well-chosen colours of red,
+orange, and blew, of well-gummed satin, which augured a happy fancy.”
+
+In 1672 a suit of men’s clothes was made for the beautiful Duchess of
+Portsmouth to wear to a masquerade; this was with “Rhingrave breeches
+and cannons.” The suit was of dove-colored silk brocade trimmed with
+scarlet and silver lace and ribbons.
+
+The ten yards of brocade for this beautiful suit cost £;14. The
+Rhingrave breeches were trimmed with thirty-six yards of figured
+scarlet ribbon and thirty-six yards of plain satin ribbon and
+thirty-six of scarlet taffeta ribbon; this made one hundred and eight
+yards of ribbon—a great amount—an unusable amount. I fear the tailor
+was not honest. There were also as trimmings twenty-two yards of
+scarlet and silver vellum lace for guards; six dozen scarlet and silver
+vellum buttons, smaller breast buttons, narrow laces for the waistcoat,
+and silver twist for buttonholes. The suit was lined with lutestring.
+There was a black beaver hat with scarlet and silver edging, and lace
+embroidered scarlet stockings, a rich belt and lace garters, and point
+lace ruffles for the neck, sleeves, and knees. This suit had an
+interlining of scarlet camlet; and lutestring drawers seamed with
+scarlet and silver lace. The total bill of £;59 would be represented
+to-day by $1400,—a goodly sum,—but it was a goodly suit. There is a
+portrait of the Duchess of Richmond in a similar suit, now at
+Buckingham Palace. Portraits of the Duke of Bedford, and of George I,
+painted by Kneller, are almost equally beribboned. The one of the king
+is given facing this page to show his ribbons and also the
+extraordinary shoes, which were fashionable at this date.
+
+
+George I. George I.
+
+“Indians gowns,” or banyans, were for a century worn in England and
+America, and are of enough importance to receive a separate chapter in
+this book. The graceful folds allured all men and all portrait
+painters, just as the fashionable new china allured all women. The
+banyan was not the only Oriental garment which had become of interest
+to Englishmen. John Evelyn described in his _Tyrannus or the Mode_ the
+“comeliness and usefulnesse” of all Persian clothing; and he noted with
+justifiable gratification that the new attire which had recently been
+adopted by King Charles II was “a comely dress after ye Persian mode.”
+He says modestly, “I do not impute to this my discourse the change
+which soone happened; but it was an identity I could not but take
+notice of.”
+
+Rugge in his _Diurnal_ describes the novel dress which was assumed by
+King Charles and the whole court, due notice of a subject of so much
+importance having been given to the council the previous month; and
+notice of the king’s determination “never to change it,” which he kept
+like many another of his promises and resolutions.
+
+
+“It is a close coat of cloth pinkt with a white taffety under the
+cutts. This in length reached the calf of the leg; and upon that a
+sercoat cutt at the breast, which hung loose and shorter than the vest
+six inches. The breeches the Spanish cutt; and buskins some of cloth,
+some of leather but of the same colour as the vest or garment; of never
+the like garment since William the Conqueror.”
+
+
+
+
+Three Cassock Sleeves and a Buff-coat Sleeve. Three Cassock Sleeves and
+a Buff-coat Sleeve.
+
+Pepys we have seen further explained that it was all black and white,
+the black cassock being close to the body. “The legs ruffled with black
+ribands like a pigeon’s leg, and I wish the King may keep it for it is
+a fine and handsome garment.” The news which came to the English court
+a month later that the king of France had put all his footmen and
+servants in this same dress as a livery made Pepys “mightie merry, it
+being an ingenious kind of affront, and yet makes me angry,” which is
+as curious a frame of mind as even curious Pepys could record. Planché
+doubts this act of the king of France; but in _The Character of a
+Trimmer_ the story is told _in extenso_—that the “vests were put on at
+first by the King to make Englishmen look unlike Frenchmen; but at the
+first laughing at it all ran back to the dress of French gentlemen.”
+The king had already taken out the white linings as “’tis like a
+magpie;” and was glad to quit it I do not doubt. Dr. Holmes—and the
+rest of us—have looked askance at the word “vest” as allied in usage to
+that unutterable contraction, pants. But here we find that vest is a
+more classic name than waistcoat for this dull garment—a garment with
+too little form or significance to be elegant or interesting or
+attractive.
+
+
+Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington. Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington.
+
+Though this dress was adopted by the whole court, and though it was an
+age of portrait painting,—and surely no more delicate flattery to the
+king’s taste could be given than to have one’s portrait painted in the
+king’s chosen vestments,—yet but one portrait remains which is stated
+to display this dress. This is the portrait of Henry Bennet, Earl of
+Arlington—it is shown on this page. This was painted by the king’s own
+painter, Sir Peter Lely. I must say that I cannot find much resemblance
+to Pepys’s or Rugge’s description, unless the word “pinked” means cut
+out in an all-over pattern like Italian cut-work; then this inner vest
+might be of “cloth pinkt with a white taffeta under the coat.” The
+surcoat is of black lined with white. Of course the sash is present,
+but not in any way distinctive. It was a characteristic act in the Earl
+to be painted in this dress, for he was a courtier of courtiers,
+perhaps the most rigid follower of court rules in England. He was “by
+nature of a pleasant and agreeable humour,” but after a diplomatic
+journey on the continent he assumed an absurd formality of manner which
+was much ridiculed by his contemporaries. His letters show him to be
+exceeding nice in his phraseology; and he prided himself upon being the
+best-bred man in court. He was a trimmer, “the chief trickster of the
+court,” a member of the Cabal, the first _a_ in the word; and he was
+heartily hated as well as ridiculed. When a young man he received a cut
+on the nose in a skirmish in Ireland; he never let his prowess be
+forgotten, but ever after wore a black patch over the scar—it may be
+seen in his portrait. When his fellow courtiers wished to gibe at him,
+they stuck black patches on their noses and with long white staves
+strutted around the court in imitation of his pompous manner. He is a
+handsome fellow, but too fat—which was not a curse of his day as of the
+present.
+
+
+Figures from Funeral Procession of the Duke of Albemarle, 1670. Figures
+from Funeral Procession of the Duke of Albemarle, 1670.
+
+Of course the king changed his dress many times after this solemn
+assumption of a lifelong garment. It was a restless, uncertain, trying
+time in men’s dress. They had lost the doublet, and had not found the
+skirted coat, and stood like the Englishman of Andrew Borde—ready to
+take a covering from any nation of the earth. I wonder the coat ever
+survived—that it did is proof of an inherent worth. Knowing the nature
+of mankind and the modes, the surprise really is that the descendants
+of Charles and all English folk are not now wearing shawls or peplums
+or anything save a coat and waistcoat.
+
+Some of the sturdy rich members of the governors’ cabinets and the
+assemblies and some of our American officers who had been in his
+Majesty’s army, or had served a term in the provincial militia, and had
+had a hot skirmish or two with marauding Indians on the Connecticut
+River frontier, and some very worthy American gentlemen who were not
+widely renowned either in military or diplomatic circles and had never
+worn armor save in the artist’s studio,—these were all painted by Sir
+Godfrey Kneller and by Sir Peter Lely, and by lesser lights in art,
+dressed in a steel corselet of the artist, and wearing their own good
+Flanders necktie and their own full well-buckled wig. There were some
+brave soldiers, too, who were thus painted, but there were far more in
+armor than had ever smelt smoke of powder. It was a good comfortable
+fashion for the busy artist. It must have been much easier when you had
+painted a certain corselet a hundred times to paint it again than to
+have to paint all kinds of new colors and stuffs. And the portrait in
+armor was almost always kitcat, and that disposed of the legs, ever a
+nuisance in portrait-painting.
+
+While the virago-sleeves were growing more and more ornamental, and
+engageants were being more and more worn by women, men’s sleeves
+assumed a most interesting form. The long coat, or cassock, had sleeves
+which were cut off at the elbow with great cuffs and were worn over
+enormous ruffled undersleeves; and they were even cut midway between
+shoulder and elbow, were slashed and pointed and beribboned to a
+wonderful degree. This lasted but a few years, the years when the
+cassock was shaping itself definitely into a skirted coat. Perhaps the
+height of ornamentation in sleeves was in the closing years of the
+reign of Charles II, though fancy sleeves lingered till the time of
+George I.
+
+
+Earl of Southampton. Earl of Southampton.
+
+In an account of the funeral of George Monck, the Duke of Albemarle, in
+the year 1670, the dress is very carefully drawn of those who walked in
+the procession. (Some of them are given here.) It may be noted, first,
+that all the hats are lower crowned and straight crowned, not like a
+cone or a truncated cone, as crowns had been. The _Poor Men_ are in
+robes with beards and flowing natural hair; they wear square bands, and
+carry staves. The _Clergymen_ wear trailing surplices; but these are
+over a sort of cassock and breeches, and they all have high-heeled
+shoes with great roses. They also have their own hair. The _Doctors of
+Physic_ are dressed like the _Gentlemen and Earls_, save that they wear
+a rich robe with bands at the upper arm, over the other fine dress. The
+gentlemen wear a cassock, or coat, which reaches to the knee; the
+pockets are nearly as low as the knee. These cassocks have lapels from
+neck to hem, with a long row of gold buttons which are wholly for
+ornament, the cassock never being fastened with the buttons. The
+sleeves reach only to the elbow and turn back in a spreading cuff; and
+from the elbow hang heavy ruffles and under-sleeves, some of rich lace,
+others of embroidery. The gentlemen and earls wear great wigs.
+
+This coat was called a surcoat or tunic. The under-coat, or waistcoat,
+was also called a vest, as by Charles the king.
+
+From this vest, or surcoat, was developed a coat, with skirts, such as
+had become, ere the year 1700, the universal wear of English and
+American men. Its first form was adopted about at the close of the
+reign of Charles II. By 1688 Quaker teachers warned their younger sort
+against “cross-pockets on men’s coats, side slopes, over-full skirted
+coats.”
+
+In an old play a man threatens a country lad, “I’ll make your buttons
+fly.” The lad replies, “All my buttons is loops.” Some garments,
+especially leather ones, like doublets, which were cumbersome to
+button, were secured by loops. For instance, in spatterdashes, a row of
+holes was set on one side, and of loops on the other. To fasten them,
+one must begin at the lower loop, pass this through the first hole,
+then put the second loop through that first loop and the second hole,
+and so on till the last loop was fastened to the breeches by buckle and
+strap or large single button. From these loops were developed frogs and
+loops.
+
+Major John Pyncheon had, in 1703, a “light coulour’d cape-coat with
+Frogs on it.” In the _New England Weekly Journal_ of 1736 “New
+Fashion’d Frogs” are named; and later, “Spangled Scalloped &; Brocaded
+Frogs.”
+
+Though these jerkins and mandillions and doublets which were furnished
+to the Bay colonists were fastened with hooks and eyes, buttons were
+worn also, as old portraits and old letters prove. John Eliot ordered
+for traffic with the Indians, in 1651, three gross of pewter buttons;
+and Robert Keayne, of Boston, writing in 1653, said bitterly that a
+“haynous offence” of his had been selling buttons at too large
+profit—that they were gold buttons and he had sold them for two
+shillings ninepence a dozen in Boston, when they had cost but two
+shillings a dozen in London (which does not seem, in the light of our
+modern profits on imported goods, a very “haynous” offence). He also
+added with acerbity that “they were never payd for by those that
+complayned.”
+
+Buttonholes were a matter of ornament more than of use; in fact, they
+were never used for closing the garment after coats came to be worn.
+They were carefully cut and “laid around” in gay colors, embroidered
+with silver and gold thread, bound with vellum, with kid, with velvet.
+We find in old-time letters directions about modish buttonholes, and
+drawings even, in order that the shape may be exactly as wished. An
+English contemporary of John Winthrop’s has tasselled buttonholes on
+his doublet.
+
+Various are the reasons given for the placing of the two buttons on the
+back of a man’s coat. One is that they are a survival of buttons which
+were used on the eighteenth-century riding-coat. The coat-tails were
+thus buttoned up when the wearer was on horseback. Another is that they
+were used for looping back the skirts of the coats; it is said that
+loops of cord were placed at the corners of the said skirts.
+
+A curious anecdote about these two buttons on the back of the coat is
+that a tribe of North American Indians, deep believers in the value of
+symbolism, refused to heed a missionary because he could not explain to
+them the significance of these two buttons.
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+RUFFS AND BANDS
+
+_“Fashion has brought in deep ruffs and shallow ruffs, thick ruffs and
+thin ruffs, double ruffs and no ruffs. When the Judge of the quick and
+the dead shall appear he will not know those who have so defaced the
+fashion he hath created.”_
+
+—Sermon, JOHN KING, Bishop of London, 1590.
+
+
+“Now up aloft I mount unto the Ruffe
+Which into foolish Mortals pride doth puffe;
+Yet Ruffe’s antiquitie is here but small—
+Within these eighty Tears not one at all
+For the 8th Henry, as I understand
+Was the first King that ever wore a Band
+And but a Falling Band, plaine with a Hem
+All other people know no use of them.”
+
+—“The Prayse of Clean Linnen,” JOHN TAYLOR, the “Water Poet,” 1640.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+RUFFS AND BANDS
+
+
+W
+
+
+e have in this poem of the old “Water Poet” a definite statement of the
+date of the introduction of ruffs for English wear. We are afforded in
+the portraiture given in this book ample proof of the fall of the ruff.
+
+
+A Bowdoin Portrait. A Bowdoin Portrait.
+
+Like many of the most striking fashions of olden times, the ruff was
+Spanish. French gentlemen had worn frills or ruffs about 1540; soon
+after, these appeared in England; by the date of Elizabeth’s accession
+the ruff had become the most imposing article of English men’s and
+women’s dress. It was worn exclusively by fine folk; for it was too
+frail and too costly for the common wear of the common people, though
+lawn ruffs were seen on many of low degree. A ruff such as was worn by
+a courtier contained eighteen or nineteen yards of fine linen lawn. A
+quarter of a yard wide was the fashionable width in England. Ruffs were
+carefully pleated in triple box-plaits as shown in the Bowdoin portrait
+here. Then they were bound with a firm neck-binding.
+
+This carefully made ruff was starched with good English or Dutch
+starch; fluted with “setting sticks” of wood or bone, to hold each
+pleat up; then fixed with struts—also of wood—placed in a manner to
+hold the pleats firmly apart; and finally “seared” or goffered with
+“poking sticks” of iron or steel, which, duly heated, dried the
+stiffening starch. To “do up” a formal ruff was a wearisome, difficult,
+and costly precess. Women of skill acquired considerable fortunes as
+“gofferers.”
+
+Stubbes tells us further of the rich decoration of ruffs with gold,
+silver, and silk lace, with needlework, with openwork, and with purled
+lace. This was in Elizabeth’s day. John Winthrop’s ruff (here) is edged
+with lace; in general a plain ruff was worn by plain gentlemen; one may
+be seen on Martin Frobisher (here). Rich lace was for the court. Their
+great cost, their inconvenience, their artificiality, their size, were
+sure to make ruffs a “reason of offence” to reformers. Stubbes gave
+voice to their complaints in these words:—
+
+
+“They haue great and monstrous ruffes, made either of cambrike,
+holland, lawne, or els of some other the finest cloth that can be got
+for money, whereof some be a quarter of a yarde deepe, yea, some more,
+very few lesse, so that they stande a full quarter of a yearde (and
+more) from their necks hanging ouer their shoulder points in steade of
+a vaile.”
+
+
+Still more violent does he grow over starch:—
+
+
+“The one arch or piller whereby his (the Devil’s) kyngdome of great
+ruffes is vnderpropped, is a certaine kind of liquid matter, whiche
+they call starch, wherein the deuill hath willed them to washe and dive
+their ruffes well, whiche, beeying drie, will then stande stiff and
+inflexible about their necks.
+
+“The other piller is a certaine device made of wiers, crested for the
+purpose; whipped over either with gold thred, silver, or silke, and
+this he calleth a supportasse or vnderpropper; this is to bee applied
+round about their neckes under the ruffe, upon the out side of the
+bande, to beare up the whole frame and bodie of the ruffe, from
+fallying and hangying doune.”
+
+
+Starch was of various colors. We read of “blue-starch-women,” and of
+what must have been especially ugly, “goose-green starch.” Yellow
+starch was most worn. It was introduced from France by the notorious
+Mrs. Turner. (See here.)
+
+Wither wrote thus of the varying modes of dressing the neck:—
+
+“Some are graced by their Tyres
+As their Quoyfs, their Hats, their Wyres,
+One a Ruff cloth best become;
+Falling bands allureth some;
+And their favours oft we see
+Changèd as their dressings be.”
+
+
+The transformation of ruff to band can be seen in the painting of King
+Charles I. The first Van Dyck portrait of him shows him in a moderate
+ruff turned over to lie down like a collar; the lace edge formed itself
+by the pleats into points which developed into the lace points
+characteristic of Van Dyck’s later pictures and called by his name.
+
+Evelyn, describing a medal of King Charles I struck in 1633, says, “The
+King wears a falling band, a new mode which has succeeded the
+cumbersome ruff; but neither do the bishops nor the Judges give it up
+so soon.” Few of the early colonial portraits show ruffs, though the
+name appears in many inventories, but “playne bands” are more
+frequently named than ruffs. Thus in an Inventory of William Swift,
+Plymouth, 1642, he had “2 Ruff Bands and 4 Playne Bands.” The “playne
+band” of the Puritans is shown in this portrait of William Pyncheon,
+which is dated 1657.
+
+
+William Pyncheon. William Pyncheon.
+
+The first change from the full pleated ruff of the sixteenth century
+came in the adoption of a richly laced collar, unpleated, which still
+stood up behind the ears at the back of the head. Often it was wired in
+place with a supportasse. This was worn by both men and women. You may
+see one here, on the neck of Pocahontas, her portrait painted in 1616.
+This collar, called a standing-band, when turned down was known as a
+falling-band or a rebato.
+
+The rich lace falling-band continued to be worn until the great flowing
+wig, with long, heavy curls, covered the entire shoulders and hid any
+band; the floating ends in front were the only part visible. In time
+they too vanished. Pepys wrote in 1662, “Put on my new lace band and so
+neat; am resolved my great expense shall be lace bands, and it will set
+off anything else the more.”
+
+I scarcely need to point out the falling-band in its various shapes as
+worn in America; they can be found readily in the early pages of this
+book. It was a fashion much discussed and at first much disliked; but
+the ruff had seen its last day—for men’s wear, when the old fellows who
+had worn it in the early years of the seventeenth century dropped off
+as the century waned. The old Bowdoin gentleman must have been one of
+the last to wear this cumbersome though stately adjunct of dress—save
+as it was displaced on some formal state occasion or as part of a
+uniform or livery.
+
+There is a constant tendency in all times and among all
+English-speaking folk to shorten names and titles for colloquial
+purposes; and soon the falling-band became the fall. In the _Wits’
+Recreation_ are two epigrams which show the thought of the times:—
+
+“WHY WOMEN WEARE A FALL
+
+“A Question ’tis why Women wear a fall?
+And truth it is to Pride they’re given all.
+And _Pride_, the proverb says, _will have a fall_.”
+
+
+“ON A LITTLE DIMINUTIVE BAND
+
+“What is the reason of God-dam-me’s band,
+Inch deep? and that his fashion doth not alter,
+God-dam-me saves a labor, understand
+In pulling it off, where he puts on the Halter.”
+
+
+“God-dam-me” was one of the pleasant epithets which, by scores, were
+applied to the Puritans.
+
+
+Reverend Jonathan Edwards. Reverend Jonathan Edwards.
+
+The bands worn by the learned professions, two strips of lawn with
+squared ends, were at first the elongated ends of the shirt collar of
+Jonathan Edwards. We have them still, to remind us of old fashions; and
+we have another word and thing, band-box, which must have been a stern
+necessity in those days of starch, and ruff, and band.
+
+It was by no means a convention of dress that “God-dam-me” should wear
+a small band. Neither Cromwell nor his followers clung long to plain
+bands; nor did they all assume them. It would be wholly impossible to
+generalize or to determine the standing of individuals, either in
+politics or religion, by their neckwear. I have before me a little
+group of prints of men of Cromwell’s day, gathered for extra
+illustration of a history of Cromwell’s time. Let us glance at their
+bands.
+
+First comes Cromwell himself from the Cooper portrait at Cambridge;
+this portrait has a plain linen turnover collar, or band, but two to
+three inches wide. Then his father is shown in a very broad, square,
+plain linen collar extending in front expanse from shoulder seam to
+shoulder seam. Sir Harry Vane and Hampden, both Puritans, have narrow
+collars like Cromwell’s; Pym, an equally precise sectarian, has a
+broader one like the father’s, but apparently of some solid and rich
+embroidery like cut-work. Edward Hyde, the Earl of Clarendon, in narrow
+band, Lucius Cary, Lord Falkland, in band and band-strings, were
+members of the Long Parliament, but passed in time to the Royal Camp.
+Other portraits of both noblemen are in richly laced bands. The Earl of
+Bristol, who was in the same standing, has the widest of lace, Vandyked
+collars. John Selden wears the plain band; but here is Strafford, the
+very impersonation of all that was hated by Puritans, and yet he wears
+the simplest of puritanical bands. William Lenthal, Speaker of the
+House of Commons, is in a beautiful Cavalier collar with straight lace
+edges. There are a score more, equally indifferent to rule.
+
+There is no doubt, however, that the Puritan regarded his plain band—if
+he wore it—with jealous care. Poor Mary Downing, niece of Governor
+Winthrop, paid dearly for her careless “searing,” or ironing, of her
+brother’s bands. Her stepmother’s severity at her offence brought forth
+this plaintive letter:—
+
+
+“Father, I trust that I have not provoked you to harbour soe ill an
+opinion of mee as my mothers lettres do signifie and give me to
+understand; the ill opinion and hard pswasion which shee beares of mee,
+that is to say, that I should abuse yor goodness, and bee prodigall of
+yor purse, neglectful of my brothers bands, and of my slatterishnes and
+lasines; for my brothers bands I will not excuse myselfe, but I thinke
+not worthy soe sharpe a reproofe; for the rest I must needs excuse, and
+cleare myselfe if I may bee believed. I doe not know myselfe guilty of
+any of them; for myne owne part I doe not desire to be myne owne judge,
+but am willinge to bee judged by them with whom I live, and see my
+course, whether I bee addicted to such things or noe.”
+
+
+Ruffs and bands were not the only neckwear of the colonists. Very soon
+there was a tendency to ornament the band-strings with tassels of silk,
+with little tufts of ribbon, with tiny rosettes, with jewels even; and
+soon a graceful frill of lace hung where the band was tied together.
+This may be termed the beginning of the necktie or cravat; but the
+article itself enjoyed many names, and many forms, which in general
+extended both to men’s and women’s wear.
+
+
+Captain George Curwen. Captain George Curwen.
+
+Let us turn to the old inventories for the various names of this
+neckwear.
+
+A Maryland gentleman left by will, with other attire, in 1642, “Nine
+laced stripps, two plain stripps, nine quoifes, one call, eight
+crosse-cloths, a paire holland sleeves, a paire women’s cuffs, nine
+plaine neck-cloths, five laced neck-cloths, two plaine gorgetts, seven
+laced gorgetts, three old clouts, five plaine neckhandkerchiefs, two
+plain shadowes.”
+
+John Taylor, the “Water Poet,” wrote a poem entitled The Needles
+Excellency. I quote from the twelfth edition, dated 1640. In the list
+of garments which we owe to the needle he names:—
+
+“Shadows, Shapparoones, Cauls, Bands, Ruffs, Kuffs,
+Kerchiefs, Quoyfes, Chin-clouts, Marry-muffes,
+Cross-cloths, Aprons, Hand-kerchiefs, or Falls.”
+
+
+His list runs like that of the Maryland planter. The strip was
+something like the whisk; indeed, the names seem interchangeable.
+Bishop Hall in his _Satires_ writes:—
+
+“When a plum’d fan may hide thy chalked face
+And lawny strips thy naked bosom grace.”
+
+
+Dr. Smith wrote in 1658 in _Penelope and Ulysses_:—
+
+“A stomacher upon her breast so bare
+For strips and gorget were not then the wear.”
+
+
+The gorget was the frill in front; the strip the lace cape or whisk. It
+will be noted that nine gorgets are named with these strips.
+
+The gorget when worn by women was enriched with lace and needlework.
+
+“These Holland smocks as white as snow
+And gorgets brave with drawn-work wrought
+A tempting ware they are you know.”
+
+
+Thus runs a poem published in 1596.
+
+Mary Verney writes in 1642 her desire for “gorgetts and eyther cutt or
+painted callico to wear under them or what is most in fashion.”
+
+The shadow has been a great stumbling-block to antiquaries. Purchas’s
+_Pilgrimage_ is responsible for what is to me a very confusing
+reference. It says of a certain savage race:—
+
+
+“They have a skin of leather hanging about their necks whenever they
+sit bare-headed and bare-footed, with their right arms bare; and a
+broad Sombrero or Shadow in their hands to defend them in Summer from
+the Sunne, in Winter from the Rain.”
+
+
+This would make a shadow a sort of hand-screen or sunshade; but all
+other references seem as if a shadow were a cap. As early as 1580,
+Richard Fenner’s Wardship Roll has “Item a Caul and Shadoe 4
+shillings.” I think a shadow was a great cap like a cornet.
+Cross-cloths were a form of head-dress. I have seen old portraits with
+a cap or head-dress formed of crossed bands which I have supposed were
+cross-cloths.
+
+Cross-cloths also bore a double meaning; for certainly neck-cloths or
+neckerchiefs were sometimes called cross-cloths or cross-clothes.
+Another name is the picardill or piccadilly, a French title for a
+gorget. Fitzgerald, in 1617, wrote of “a spruse coxcomb” that he
+glanced at his pocket looking-glass to see:—
+
+“How his Band jumpeth with his Peccadilly
+Whether his Band-strings ballance equally.”
+
+
+Another satirical author could write in 1638 that “pickadillies are now
+out of request.”
+
+The portrait of Captain Curwen of Salem (here) is unlike many of his
+times. Over his doublet he wears a handsome embroidered shoulder sash
+called a trooping-scarf; and his broad lace tie is very unusual for the
+year 1660. I know few like it upon American gentlemen in portraits; and
+I fancy it is a gorget, or a piccadilly. It is pleasant to know that
+this handsome piece of lace has been preserved. It is here shown with
+his cane.
+
+
+Lace Gorget and Cane of Captain George Curwen. Lace Gorget and Cane of
+Captain George Curwen.
+
+A little negative proof may be given as to one word and article. The
+gorget is said to be an adaptation of the wimple. Our writers of
+historical tales are very fond of attiring their heroines in wimples
+and kirtles. Both have a picturesque, an antique, sound—the wimple is
+Biblical and Shakesperian, and therefore ever satisfying to the ear,
+and to the sight in manuscript. But I have never seen the word wimple
+in an inventory, list, invoice, letter, or book of colonial times, and
+but once the word kirtle. Likewise are these modern authors a bit vague
+as to the manner of garment a wimple is. One fair maid is described as
+having her fair form wrapped in a warm wimple. She might as well be
+described as wrapped in a warm cravat. For a wimple was simply a small
+kerchief or covering for the neck, worn in the thirteenth and
+fourteenth centuries.
+
+Another quaint term, already obsolete when the _Mayflower_ sailed, was
+partlet. A partlet was an inner kerchief, worn with an open-necked
+bodice or doublet. Its trim plaited edge or ruffle seems to have given
+rise to the popular name, “Dame Partlet,” for a hen. It appeared in the
+reign of Henry VIII; the courtiers imitating the king threw open their
+garments at the throat, and further opened them with slashes; hence the
+use of the partlet, which was a trim form of underhabit or gorget, worn
+well up to the throat. An old dictionary explains that the partlet can
+be “set on or taken off by itself without taking off the bodice, as can
+be pickadillies now-a-days, or men’s bands.” It adds that women’s
+neckerchiefs have been called partlets.
+
+In October, 1662, Samuel Pepys wrote in his _Diary_, “Made myself fine
+with Captain Ferrers lace band; being loathe to wear my own new
+scallop; it is so fine.” This is one of his several references to this
+new fashion of band which both he and his wife adopted. He paid £;3 for
+his scallop, and 45s. for one for his wife. He was so satisfied with
+his elegance in this new scallop, that like many another lover of dress
+he determined his chief extravagance should be for lace. The fashion of
+scallop-wearing came to America. For several years the word was used in
+inventories, then it became as obsolete as a caul, a shadow, a cornet.
+
+The word “cravat” is not very ancient. Its derivation is said to be
+from the Cravates or Croats in the French military service, who adopted
+such neckwear in 1636. An early use of the word is by Blount in 1656,
+who called a cravat “a new fashioned Gorget which Women wear.”
+
+The cravat is a distinct companion of the wig, and was worn whenever
+and wherever wigs were donned.
+
+Evelyn gave the year 1666 as the one when vest, cravat, garters, and
+buckles came to be the fashion. We could add likewise wigs. Of course
+all these had been known before that year, but had not been general
+wear.
+
+An early example of a cravat is shown in the portrait of old William
+Stoughton in my later chapter on Cloaks. His cravat is a distinctly new
+mode of neck-dressing, but is found on all American portraits shortly
+after that date. One is shown with great exactness in the portrait
+here, which is asserted to be that of “the handsomest man in the
+Plantations,” William Coddington, Governor of Rhode Island and
+Providence Plantations.
+
+
+Governor Coddington. Governor Coddington.
+
+He was a precise man, and wearisome in his precision—a bore, even, I
+fear. His beauty went for little in his relation of man to man, and,
+above all, of colonist to colonist; and poor Governor Winthrop must
+have been sorely tormented with his frequent letters, which might have
+been written from Mars for all the signs they bore of news of things of
+this earth. His dress is very neat and rich—a characteristic dress, I
+think. It has slightly wrought buttonholes, plain sleeve ruffles and
+gloves. His full curled peruke has a mass of long curls hanging in
+front of the right shoulder, while the curls on the left side are six
+or eight inches shorter. This was the most elegant London fashion, and
+extreme fashion too. His neck-scarf or cravat was a characteristic one.
+It consisted of a long scarf of soft, fine, sheer, white linen over two
+yards long, passed twice or thrice close around the throat and simply
+lapped under the chin, not knotted. The upper end hung from twelve to
+sixteen inches long. The other and longer end was carried down to a low
+waistline and tucked in between the buttons of the waistcoat. Often the
+free end of this scarf was trimmed with lace or cut-work; indeed, the
+whole scarf might be of embroidery or lace, but the simpler lawn or
+mull appears to have been in better taste. This tie is seen in this
+portrait of Thomas Fayerweather, by Smybert, and in modified forms on
+many other pages.
+
+
+Thomas Fayerweather. Thomas Fayerweather.
+
+We now find constant references to the Steinkirk, a new cravat. As we
+see it frequently stated that the Steinkirk was a black tie, I may
+state here that all the Steinkirks I have seen have been white. I know
+no portraits with black neck-cloths. I find no allusions in old-time
+literature or letters to black Steinkirks.
+
+A Steinkirk was a white cravat, not knotted, but fastened so loosely as
+to seem folded rather than tied, twisted sometimes twice or thrice,
+with one or both ends passed through a buttonhole of the coat. Ladies
+wore them, as well as men, arranged with equal appearance of careless
+negligence; and the soft diagonal folds of linen and lace made a pretty
+finish at the throat, as pretty as any high neck-dressing could be.
+These cravats were called Steinkirks after the battle of Steinkirk,
+when some of the French princes, not having time to perform an
+elaborate toilet before going into action, hurriedly twisted their lace
+cravats about their necks and pulled them through a buttonhole, simply
+to fix them safely in place. The fashionable world eagerly followed
+their example. It is curious that the Steinkirk should have been
+popular in England, where the name might rather have been a bitter
+avoidance.
+
+The battle of Steinkirk took place in 1694. An early English allusion
+to the neckwear thus named is in _The Relapse_, which was acted in
+1697. In it the Semstress says, “I hope your Lordship is pleased with
+your Steenkirk.” His Lordship answers with eloquence, “In love with it,
+stap my vitals! Bring your bill, you shall be paid tomorrow!”
+
+The Steinkirk, both for men’s and women’s wear, came to America very
+promptly, and was soon widely worn. The dashing, handsome figure of
+young King Carter gives an illustration of the pretty studied
+negligence of the Steinkirk. I have seen a Steinkirk tie on at least
+twenty portraits of American gentlemen, magistrates, and officers; some
+of them were the royal governors, but many were American born and bred,
+who never visited Europe, but turned eagerly to English fashions.
+
+
+“King” Carter in Youth, by Sir Godfrey Kneller. “King” Carter in Youth,
+by Sir Godfrey Kneller.
+
+Certain old families have preserved among their ancient treasures a
+very long oval brooch with a bar across it from end to end—the longest
+way of the brooch. These are set sometimes with topaz or moonstone,
+garnet, marcasite, heliotropium, or paste jewels. Many wonder for what
+purpose these were used. They were to hold the lace Steinkirk in place,
+when it was not pulled through the buttonhole. The bar made it seem
+like a tongueless buckle—or perhaps it was like a long, narrow buckle
+to which a brooch pin had been affixed to keep it firmly in place.
+
+The cravat, tied and twisted in Steinkirk form, or more simply folded,
+long held its place in fashionable dress.
+
+“The stock with buckle made of paste
+Has put the cravat out of date,”
+
+
+wrote Whyte in 1742.
+
+With this quotation we will turn from neckwear until a later period.
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS
+
+
+_“So many poynted cappes
+Lased with double flaps
+And soe gay felted cappes
+  Saw I never.
+
+“So propre cappes
+So lyttle hattes
+And so false hartes
+Saw I never.”
+_
+—“The Maner of the World Nowe-a-dayes,” JOHN SKELTON, 1548.
+
+
+“_The Turk in linen wraps his head
+  The Persian his in lawn, too,
+The Russ with sables furs his cap
+  And change will not be drawn to.
+
+“The Spaniard’s constant to his block
+  The Frenchman inconstant ever;
+But of all felts that may be felt
+  Give me the English beaver.
+
+“The German loves his coney-wool
+  The Irishman his shag, too,
+The Welsh his Monmouth loves to wear
+  And of the same will brag, too”_
+
+—“A Challenge for Beauty,” THOMAS HAYWARD
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS
+
+
+A
+
+
+ny student of English history and letters would know that caps would
+positively be part of the outfit of every emigrating Englishman. A cap
+was, for centuries, both the enforced and desired headwear of English
+folk of quiet lives.
+
+
+City Flat-cap worn by “Bilious” Bale. City Flat-cap worn by “Bilious”
+Bale.
+
+Belgic Britons, Welshmen, Irish, Anglo-Saxons, Danes, and Normans all
+had worn caps, as well as ancient Greeks and Romans. These English caps
+had been of divers colors and manifold forms, some being grotesque
+indeed. When we reach the reign of Henry VIII we are made familiar in
+the paintings of Holbein with a certain flat-cap which sometimes had a
+small jewel or leather or a double fold, but never varied greatly. This
+was known as the city flat-cap.
+
+It is shown also in the Holbein portrait of Adam Winthrop, grandfather
+of Governor John Winthrop; he was a man of dignity, Master of the Cloth
+Workers’ Guild.
+
+The muffin-cap of the boys of Christ’s Hospital is a form of this cap.
+
+This was at first and ever a Londoner’s cap. A poet wrote in 1630:—
+
+
+“Flat caps as proper are to city gowns
+As to armour, helmets, or to kings, their crowns.”
+
+
+Winthrop also wears the city gown.
+
+This flat-cap was often of gay colors, scarlet being a favorite hue.
+
+
+“Behold the bonnet upon my head
+A staryng colour of scarlet red
+I promise you a fyne thred
+   And a soft wool
+   It cost a noble.”
+
+
+These lines were written for the character “Pride,” in the _Interlude
+of Nature_, before the year 1500.
+
+A statute was passed in 1571, “If any person above six years of age
+(except maidens, ladies, gentlemen, nobles, knights, gentlemen of
+twenty marks by year in lands, and their heirs, and such as have born
+office of worship) have not worn upon the Sunday or holyday (except it
+be in the time of his travell out of the city, town or hamlet where he
+dwelleth) one cap of wool, knit, thicked and dressed in England, and
+only dressed and furnished by some of the trade of cappers, shall be
+fined £;3 4d. for each day’s transgression.” The caps thus worn were
+called Statute caps.
+
+This was, of course, to encourage wool-workers in the pride of the
+nation. Winthrop, master of a guild whose existence depended on wool,
+would, of course, wear a woollen cap had he not been a Londoner. It was
+a plain head-covering, but it was also the one worn by King Edward VI.
+
+There was a formal coif or cap worn by men of dignity; always worn, I
+think, by judges and elderly lawyers, ere the assumption of the formal
+wig. This coif may be seen on the head of the venerable Dr. Dee, and
+also on the head of Lord Burleigh, and of Thomas Cecil, surmounted with
+the citizen’s flat-cap. One of these caps in heavy black lustring
+lingered by chance in my home—worn by some forgotten ancestor. It had a
+curious loop, as may be seen on Dr. Dee. This was not a narrow string
+for tying the coif on the head; it was a loop. And if there was any
+need of fastening the cap on the head, a narrow ribbon or ferret, a
+lacing, was put through both loops.
+
+In the inventory of the apparel of the first settlers which I have
+given in the early pages of this book, we find that each colonist to
+the Massachusetts Bay settlement had one Monmouth cap and five red
+milled caps. All the lists of necessary clothing for the planters have
+as an item, caps; but a well-made, well-lined hat was also supplied.
+
+Monmouth caps were in general wear in England. Thomas Fuller said,
+“Caps were the most ancient, general, warm, and profitable coverings of
+men’s heads in this Island.” In making them thousands of people were
+employed, especially before the invention of fulling-mills, when caps
+were wrought, beaten, and thickened by the hands and feet of men.
+Cap-making afforded occupation to fifteen different callings: carders,
+spinners, knitters, parters of wool, forcers, thickers, dressers,
+walkers, dyers, battellers, shearers, pressers, edgers, liners, and
+band-makers.
+
+
+King James I of England. King James I of England.
+
+The Monmouth caps were worth two shillings each, which were furnished
+to the Massachusetts colonists. These were much affected by seafaring
+men. We read, in _A Satyr on Sea Officers_, “With Monmouth cap and
+cutlass at my side, striding at least a yard at every stride.” “The
+Ballad of the Caps,” 1656, gives a wonderful list of caps. Among them
+are:
+
+
+The Monmouth Cap, the Saylors thrum,
+And that wherein the tradesmen come,
+The Physick, Lawe, the Cap divine,
+And that which crowns the Muses nine,
+The Cap that Fools do countenance,
+The goodly Cap of Maintenance,
+And any Cap what e’re it be,
+Is still the sign of some degree.
+
+“The sickly Cap both plaine and wrought,
+The Fuddling-cap however bought,
+The quilted, furred, the velvet, satin,
+For which so many pates learn Latin,
+The Crewel Cap, the Fustian pate,
+The Perriwig, the Cap of Late,
+And any Cap what e’er it be
+Is still the sign of some degree.”
+
+—“Ballad of the Caps,” 1656.
+
+
+We seldom have in manuscript or print, in America, titles or names
+given to caps or hats, but one occasionally seen is the term
+“montero-cap,” spelled also mountero, montiro, montearo; and Washington
+Irving tells of “the cedar bird with a little mon-teiro-cap of
+feathers.” Montero-caps were frequently recommended to emigrants, and
+useful dress they were, being a horseman’s or huntsman’s cap with a
+simple round crown, and a flap which went around the sides and back of
+the cap and which could be worn turned up or brought down over the back
+of the neck, the ears and temples, thus making a most protecting
+head-covering. They were, in general, dark colored, of substantial
+woollen stuff, but Sterne writes in Tristram Shandy of a montero-cap
+which he describes as of superfine Spanish cloth, dyed scarlet in the
+grain, mounted all round with fur, except four inches in front, which
+was faced with light blue lightly embroidered. It is a montero-cap
+which is seen on the head of Bamfylde Moore Carew, the “King of the
+Mumpers,” a most genial English rogue, sneak-thief, and cheat of the
+eighteenth century, who spent some of his ill-filled years in the
+American colonies, whither he was brought after being trepanned, and
+where he had to bear the ignominy of wearing an iron collar welded
+around his neck.
+
+A montero-cap seems to have been the favorite dress of rogues. In
+Head’s _English Rogue_ we read, “Beware of him that rides in a
+montero-cap and of him that whispers oft.” The picaro Guzman wore one;
+and as montero is the Spanish word for huntsman, Head may have obtained
+the word from that special scamp, Guzman, whose life was published in
+1633. It is a very ancient name, being given in Cotgrave as a hood, or
+as the horseman’s helmet. It is worn still by Arctic travellers and
+Alpine climbers. Sets of knitted montero-caps were presented by the
+Empress Eugenie to the Arctic expedition of 1875, and the Jackies
+dubbed them “Eugenie Wigs.”
+
+Another and widely different class of men wore likewise the
+montero-cap, the English and American Quakers. Thomas Ellwood, in the
+early days of his Quaker belief, suffered much for his hat, both from
+his fellow Quakers and his father, a Church of England man. The Quakers
+thought his “large Mountier cap of black velvet, the skirt of which
+being turned up in Folds looked somewhat above the common Garb of a
+Quaker.” A young priest at another time snatched this montero-cap off
+because he wore it in the presence of magistrates, and then Ellwood’s
+father fell upon it in this wise:—
+
+
+“He could not contain himself but running upon me with both hands,
+first violently snatcht off my Hat and threw it away and then giving me
+some buffets in the head said Sirrah get you up to your chamber. I had
+now lost one hat and had but one more. The next Time my Father saw it
+on my head he tore it violently from me and laid it up with the other,
+I know not where. Wherefore I put my Mountier Cap which was all I had
+left to wear on my head, and but a little while I had that, for when my
+Father came where I was, I lost that also.”
+
+
+
+
+Fulke Greville (Lord Brooke). Fulke Greville (Lord Brooke).
+
+Finally the father refused to let him wear his “Hive,” as he called the
+hat, at the table while eating, and thereafter Ellwood ate with his
+father’s servants.
+
+The vogue of beaver hats was an important factor in the settlement of
+America.
+
+The first Spanish, Dutch, English, and French colonists all came to
+America to seek for gold and furs. The Spaniards found gold, the Dutch
+and French found furs, but the English who found fish found the
+greatest wealth of all, for food is ever more than raiment.
+
+Of the furs the most important and most valuable was beaver. The
+English sent some beaver back to Europe; the very first ship to return
+from Plymouth carried back two hogsheads. Winslow sent twenty hogsheads
+as early as 1634, and Bradford shows that the trade was deemed
+important. But the wild creatures speedily retreated. Johnson declares
+that as early as 1645 the beaver trade had left the frontier post of
+Springfield, on the Connecticut River.
+
+From the earliest days both the French and English crown had treated
+the fishing and fur industries with unusual discretion, giving a
+monopoly to the fur trade and leaving the fisheries free, so the latter
+constantly increased, while in New England the fur trade passed over to
+the Dutch, distinctly to the advantage of the English, for the lazy
+trader at a post was neither a good savage nor a good citizen, while
+the hardy fishermen and bold sailors of New England brought wealth to
+every town. For some years the Dutch appeared to have the best of it,
+for they received ten to fifteen thousand beaver skins annually from
+New England; and they had trading-posts on Narragansett and Buzzards
+Bay. Still the trade drew the Dutch away from agriculture, and the real
+success of New Netherland did not come with furs, but with corn.
+
+
+James Douglas (Earl of Morton). James Douglas (Earl of Morton).
+
+The fur trade was certainly an interesting factor in the growth of the
+Dutch settlement. Fort Orange, or Albany, called the _Fuyck_, was the
+natural topographical _fuyck_ or trap-net to catch this trade, and in
+the very first season of its settlement fifteen hundred beaver and five
+hundred otter skins were despatched to Holland. In 1657 Johannes
+Dyckman asserted that 40,900 beaver and otter skins were sent that year
+from Fort Orange to Fort Amsterdam (New York City). As these skins were
+valued at from eight to ten guilders apiece (about $3.50 and with a
+purchasing value equal to $20 to-day), it can readily be seen what a
+source of wealth seemed opened. The authorities at Fort Orange, the
+patroons of Renssalaerwyck and Beverwyck, were not to be permitted to
+absorb all this wondrous gain in undisturbed peace. The increment of
+the India Company was diverted and hindered in various ways.
+Unscrupulous and crafty citizens of Fort Orange (independent
+_handaelers_ or handlers) and their thrifty, penny-turning _vrouws_
+decoyed the Indian trappers and hunters into their peaceful, honest
+kitchens under pretence of kindly Christian welcome to the
+peltry-bearing braves; and they filled the guileless savages with Dutch
+schnapps, or Barbadoes “kill-devil,” until the befuddled or half-crazed
+Indians parted with their precious stores of hard-trapped skins and
+threw off their well-perspired and greased beaver coats and exchanged
+them for such valuable Dutch wares as knives, scissors, beads, and
+jews’-harps, or even a few pints of quickly vanishing rum, instead of
+solid Dutch guilders or substantial Dutch blankets. And even before
+these strategic Dutch citizens could corral and fleece them, the
+incoming fur-bearers had to run as insinuating a gantlet of
+_boschloopers_, bush-runners, drummers, or “broakers,” who sallied out
+on the narrow Indian paths to buy the coveted furs even before they
+were brought into Fort Orange. Much legislation ensued. Scout-buying
+was prohibited. Citizens were forbidden “to addresse to speak to the
+wilden of trading,” or to entice them to “traffique,” or to harbor them
+over night. Indian houses to lodge the trappers were built just outside
+the gate, where the dickering would be public. These were built by
+rates collected from all “Christian dealers” in furs.
+
+But Indian paths were many, and the water-ways were unpatrolled, and
+kitchen doors could be slyly opened in the dusk; so the government, in
+spite of laws and shelter-houses, did not get all the beaver skins. Too
+many were eager for the lucrative and irregular trade; agricultural
+pursuits were alarmingly neglected; other communities became rivals,
+and the beavers soon were exterminated from the valley of the Hudson,
+and by 1660 the Fort Orange trade was sadly diminished. The governor of
+Canada had an itching palm, and lured the Indians—and beaver skins—to
+Montreal. Thus “impaired by French wiles,” scarce nine thousand
+peltries came in 1687 to Fort Orange. With a few fluttering rallies
+until Revolutionary times the fur trade of Albany became extinct; it
+passed from both Dutch and French, and was dominated by the Hudson Bay
+Fur Company.
+
+So clear a description of the fur of the beaver and the use of the pelt
+was given by Adriaen van der Donck, who lived at Fort Orange from the
+year 1641 to 1646, and traded for years with the Indians, that it is
+well to give his exact words:—
+
+
+“The beaver’s skin is rough but thickly set with fine fur of an
+ash-gray color inclining to blue. The outward points also incline to a
+russet or brown color. From the fur of the beaver the best hats are
+made that are worn. They are called beavers or castoreums from the
+material of which they are made, and they are known by this name over
+all Europe. Outside of the coat of fur many shining hairs appear called
+wind-hairs, which are more properly winter-hairs, for they fall out in
+summer and appear again in winter. The outer coat is of a
+chestnut-brown color, the browner the color the better is the fur.
+Sometimes it will be a little reddish.
+
+“When hats are made of the fur, the rough hairs are pulled out for they
+are useless. The skins are usually first sent to Russia, where they are
+highly valued for their outside shining hair, and on this their
+greatest recommendation depends with the Russians. The skins are used
+there for mantle-linings and are also cut into strips for borders, as
+we cut rabbit-skins. Therefore we call the same peltries. Whoever has
+there the most and costliest fur-trimmings is deemed a person of very
+high rank, as with us the finest stuffs and gold and silver
+embroideries are regarded as the appendages of the great. After the
+hairs have fallen out, or are worn, and the peltries become old and
+dirty and apparently useless, we get the article back, and convert the
+fur into hats, before which it cannot be well used for this purpose,
+for unless the beaver has been worn, and is greasy and dirty, it will
+not felt properly, hence these old peltries are the most valuable. The
+coats which the Indians make of beaver-skins and which they have worn
+for a long time around their bodies until the skins have become foul
+with perspiration and grease are afterwards used by the hatters and
+make the best hats.”
+
+
+One notion about beaver must be told. Its great popularity for many
+years arose, it is conjectured, from its original use as a cap for
+curative purposes. Such a beaver cap would “unfeignedly” recover to a
+man his hearing, and stimulate his memory to a wonder, especially if
+the “oil of castor” was rubbed in his hair.
+
+
+Elihu Yale. Elihu Yale.
+
+The beaver hat was for centuries a choice and costly article of dress;
+it went through many bizarre forms. On the head of Henry IV of France
+and Navarre, as made known in his portrait, is a hat which effectually
+destroys all possibility of dignity. It is a bell-crowned stove-pipe,
+of the precise shape worn later by coachmen and by dandies about the
+years 1820 to 1830. It is worn very much over one royal ear, like the
+hat of a well-set-up, self-important coachman of the palmy days of
+English coaching, and gives an air of absurd modernity and cockney
+importance to the picture of a king of great dignity. The hat worn by
+James I, ere he was King of England, is shown here. It is funnier than
+any seen for years in a comic opera. The hat worn by Francis Bacon is a
+plain felt, greatly in contrast with his rich laced triple ruff and
+cuffs and embroidered garments. That of Thomas Cecil here varies
+slightly.
+
+Two very singular shapings of the plain hat may be seen, one here on
+the head of Fulke Greville, where the round-topped, high crown is most
+disproportionate to the narrow brim. The second, here, shows an extreme
+sugar-loaf, almost a pointed crown.
+
+A good hat was very expensive, and important enough to be left among
+bequests in a will. They were borrowed and hired for many years, and
+even down to the time of Queen Anne we find the rent of a _subscription
+hat_ to be £;2 6s. per annum! The hiring out of a hat does not seem
+strange when hiring out clothes was a regular business with tailors.
+The wife of a person of low estate hired a gown of Queen Elizabeth’s to
+be married in. Tailor Thomas Gylles complained of the Yeoman of the
+queen’s wardrobe for suffering this. He writes, “The copper cloth of
+gold gowns which were made last, and another, were sent into the
+country for the marriage of Lord Montague.” The bequest of half-worn
+garments was highly regarded. On the very day of Darnley’s funeral,
+Mary Queen of Scots gave his clothes to Bothwell, who sent them to his
+tailor to be refitted. The tailor, bold with the riot and disorder of
+the time, returned them with the impudent message that “the duds of
+dead men were given to the hangman.” The duds of men who were hanged
+were given to the hangman almost as long as hangings took place. A poor
+New England girl, hanged for the murder of her child, went to the
+scaffold in her meanest attire, and taunted the executioner that he
+would get but a poor suit of clothes from her. The last woman hanged in
+Massachusetts wore a white satin gown, which I expect the sheriff’s
+daughter much revelled in the following winter at dancing-parties.
+
+
+Thomas Cecil. Thomas Cecil.
+
+Old Philip Stubbes has given us a wonderful description of English
+head-gear:—
+
+
+“HATS OF SUNDRIE FATIONS”
+
+
+“Sometymes they vse them sharpe on the Croune, pearking vp like the
+Spire, or Shaft of a Steeple, standyng a quarter of a yarde aboue the
+Croune of their heades, somemore, some lesse, as please the phantasies
+of their inconstant mindes. Othersome be flat and broad on the Crowne,
+like the battlemetes of a house. An other sorte haue rounde Crownes,
+sometymes with one kinde of Band, sometymes with another, now black,
+now white, now russet, now red, now grene, now yellowe, now this, now
+that, never content with one colour or fashion two daies to an ende.
+And thus in vanitie they spend the Lorde his treasure, consuming their
+golden yeres and siluer daies in wickednesse and sinne. And as the
+fashions bee rare and strange, so is the stuffe whereof their hattes be
+made divers also; for some are of Silke, some of Veluet, some of
+Taffatie, some of Sarcenet, some of Wooll, and, whiche is more curious,
+some of a certaine kinde of fine Haire; these they call Bever hattes,
+or xx. xxx. or xl. shillinges price, fetched from beyonde the seas,
+from whence a greate sorte of other vanities doe come besides. And so
+common a thing it is, that euery seruyngman, countrieman, and other,
+euen all indefferently, dooe weare of these hattes. For he is of no
+account or estimation amongst men if he haue not a Veluet or Taffatie
+hatte, and that must be Pincked, and Cunnyngly Carved of the beste
+fashion. And good profitable hattes be 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 sprong vp amongst them, which they
+father vpon a Frenchman, namely, to weare them with bandes, but how
+vnsemely (I will not saie how hassie) a fashion that is let the wise
+judge; notwithstanding, howeuer it be, if it please them, it shall not
+displease me.
+
+
+“And another sort (as phantasticall as the rest) are content with no
+kinde of hat without a greate Bunche of Feathers of diuers and sondrie
+Colours, peakyng on top of their heades, not vnlike (I dare not saie)
+Cockescombes, but as sternes of pride, and ensignes of vanity. And yet,
+notwithstanding these Flutterying Sailes, and Feathered Flagges of
+defiaunce of Vertue (for so they be) are so advanced that euery child
+hath them in his Hat or Cap; many get good liuing by dying and selling
+of them, and not a few proue the selues more than Fooles in wearyng of
+them.”
+
+
+Notwithstanding this list of Stubbes, it is very curious to note that
+in general the shape of the real beaver hat remained the same as long
+as it was worn uncocked.
+
+
+Cornelius Steinwyck. Cornelius Steinwyck.
+
+The hat was worn much more constantly within-doors than in the present
+day. Pepys states that they were worn in church; even the preacher wore
+his hat. Hats were removed in the presence of royalty. An hereditary
+honor and privilege granted to one of my ancestors was that he might
+wear his hat before the king.
+
+It is somewhat difficult to find out the exact date when the wearing of
+hats by men within-doors ceased to be fashionable and became distinctly
+low bred. We can turn to contemporary art. In 1707 at a grand banquet
+given in France to the Spanish Embassy, a ceremonious state affair with
+the women in magnificent full-dress, the men seated at the table and in
+the presence of royalty wore their cocked hats—so much for courtly
+France.
+
+This wearing of the hat in church, at table, and elsewhere that seems
+now strange to us, was largely as an emblem of dignity and authority.
+Miss Moore in the _Caldwell Papers_ writes of her grandfather:—
+
+
+“I’ my grandfather’s time, as I have heard him tell, ilka maister of a
+family had his ain seat in his ain house; aye, and sat there with his
+hat on, afore the best in the land; and had his ain dish, and was aye
+helpit first and keepit up his authority as a man should so. Parents
+were parents then; and bairns dared not set up their gabs afore them as
+they do now.”
+
+
+That the covering of the head in church still has a significance on
+important occasions, is shown by a rubric from the “Form and Order” for
+the Coronation of King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra; this provides
+that the king remains uncovered during the saying of the Litany and the
+beginning of the Communion Service, but when the sermon begun that he
+should put on his “Cap of crimson velvet turned up with Ermine, and so
+continue,” to the end of the discourse.
+
+Hatbands were just as important for men’s hats as women’s—especially
+during the years of the reign of James I. Endymion Porter had his
+wife’s diamond necklace to wear on his hat in Spain. It probably looked
+like paste beside the gorgeousness of the Duke of Buckingham, who had
+“the Mirror of France,” a great diamond, the finest in England, “to
+wear alone in your hat with a little blacke feather,” so the king wrote
+him. A more curious hat ornament was a glove.
+
+
+Hat with a Glove as a Favor. Hat with a Glove as a Favor.
+
+This handsome hat is from a portrait of George, Earl of Cumberland. It
+has a woman’s glove as a favor. This is said to have been a gift of
+Queen Elizabeth after his prowess in a tournament. He always wore this
+glove on state occasions. Gloves were worn on a hat in three meanings:
+as a memorial of a dead friend, as a favor of a mistress, or as a mark
+of challenge. A pretty laced or tasselled handkerchief was also a favor
+and was worn like a cockade.
+
+An excellent representation of the Cavalier hat may be seen on the
+figure of Oliver Cromwell (here), which shows him dismissing
+Parliament. Cornelius Steinwyck’s flat-leafed hat has no feather.
+
+The steeple-crowned hat of both men and women was in vogue in the
+second half of the seventeenth century in both England and America, at
+the time when the witchcraft tragedies came to a culmination. The long
+scarlet cloak was worn at the same date. It is evident that the
+conventional witch of to-day, an old woman in scarlet cloak and
+steeple-crowned hat, is a relic of that day. Through the striking
+circumstances and the striking dress was struck off a figurative type
+which is for all time.
+
+William Kempe of “Duxburrow” in 1641 left hats, hat-boxes, rich
+hatbands, bone laces, leather hat-cases; also ten “capps.” Hats were
+also made of cloth. In the tailor’s bill of work done for Jonathan
+Corwin of Salem, in 1679, we read “To making a Broadcloth Hatt 14s. To
+making 2 hatts &; 2 jackets for your two sonnes 19s.” In 1672 an
+association of Massachusetts hatters asked privileges and protection
+from the colonial government to aid and encourage American manufacture,
+but they were refused until they made better hats. Shortly after,
+however, the exportation of raccoon fur to England was forbidden, or
+taxed, as it was found to be useful in the home manufacture of hats.
+
+The eighteenth century saw many and varied forms of the cocked hat; the
+nineteenth returned to a straight crown and brim. The description of
+these will be given in the due course of the narrative of this book.
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE VENERABLE HOOD
+
+
+_“Paul saith, that a woman ought to have a Power on her head. This
+Power that some of them have is disguised gear and strange fashions.
+They must wear French Hoods—and I cannot tell you—I—what to call it.
+And when they make them ready and come to the Covering of their Head
+they will say, ‘Give me my French Hood, and Give me my Bonnet or my
+Cap.’ Now here is a Vengeance-Devil; we must have our Power from Turkey
+of Velvet, and gay it must be; far-fetched and dear-bought; and when it
+cometh it is a False Sign.”_
+
+—Sermon, ARCHBISHOP LATIMER, 1549.
+
+
+_“Hoods are the most ancient covering for the head and far more elegant
+and useful than the more modern fashion of hats, which present a
+useless elevation, and leave the neck and ears completely exposed.”_
+
+—“Glossary of Ecclesiastical Ornament and Costume,” PUGIN, 1868.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE VENERABLE HOOD
+
+
+W
+
+
+e are told by the great Viollet le Duc that the faces of
+fifteenth-century women were of a uniform type. Certainly a uniform
+head-dress tends to establish a seeming resemblance of the wearers; the
+strange, steeple head-dress of that century might well have that
+effect; and the “French hood” worn so many years by English, French,
+and American women has somewhat the same effect on women’s
+countenances; it gives a uniformity of severity. It is difficult for a
+face to be pretty and gay under this gloomy hood. This French hood is
+plainly a development of the head-rail, which was simply an unshaped
+oblong strip of linen or stuff thrown over the head, and with the ends
+twisted lightly round the neck or tied loosely under the chin with
+whatever grace or elegance the individual wearer possessed.
+
+Varying slightly from reign to reign, yet never greatly changed, this
+sombre plain French hood was worn literally for centuries. It was
+deemed so grave and dignified a head-covering that, in the reign of
+Edward III, women of ill carriage were forbidden the wearing of it.
+
+
+Gulielma Penn. Gulielma Penn.
+
+In the year 1472 “Raye Hoods,” that is, striped hoods, were enjoined in
+several English towns as the distinctive wear of women of ill
+character. And in France this black hood was under restriction; only
+ladies of the French court were permitted to wear velvet hoods, and
+only women of station and dignity, black hoods.
+
+This black hood was dignified in allegorical literature as “the
+venerable hood,” and was ever chosen by limners to cover the head of
+any woman of age or dignity who was to be depicted.
+
+In the _Ladies’ Dictionary_ a hood is defined thus: “A Dutch attire
+covering the head, face and all the body.” And the long cloak with this
+draped hood, which must have been much like the Shaker cloak of to-day,
+seems to have been deemed a Dutch garment. It was warm and comfortable
+enough to be adopted readily by the English Pilgrims in Holland. It had
+come to England, however, in an earlier century. Of Ellinor Rummin, the
+alewife, Skelton wrote about the year 1500:—
+
+
+“A Hake of Lincoln greene
+It had been hers I weene
+More than fortye yeare
+And soe it doth appeare
+And the green bare threds
+Looked like sere wedes
+Withered like hay
+The wool worn awaye
+And yet I dare saye
+She thinketh herself gaye
+Upon a holy day.”
+
+
+It is impossible to know how old this hood is. When I have fancied I
+had the earliest reference that could be found, I would soon come to
+another a few years earlier. We know positively from the _Lisle Papers_
+that it was worn in England by the name “French hood” in 1540. Anne
+Basset, daughter of Lady Lisle, had come into the household of the
+queen of Henry VIII, who at the time was Anne of Cleves. The “French
+Apparell” which the maid of honor fetched from Calais was not pleasing
+to the queen, who promptly ordered the young girl to wear “a velvet
+bonnet with a frontlet and edge of pearls.” These bonnets are familiar
+to us on the head of Anne’s predecessor, Anne Boleyn. They were worn
+even by young children. One is shown here. The young lady borrowed a
+bonnet; and a factor named Husee—the biggest gossip of his day—promptly
+chronicles to her mother, “I saw her (Anne Basset) yesterday in her
+velvet bonnet that my Lady Sussex had tired her in, and thought it
+became her nothing so well as the French hood,—but the Queen’s pleasure
+must be done!”
+
+
+Hannah Callowhill Penn. Hannah Callowhill Penn.
+
+Doubtless some of the Pilgrim Mothers wore bonnets like this one of
+Anne Basset’s, especially if the wearer were a widow, when there was
+also an under frontlet which was either plain, plaited, or folded, but
+which came in a distinct point in the middle of the forehead.
+
+This cap, or bandeau, with point on the forehead, is precisely the
+widow’s cap worn by Catherine de Medicis. She was very severe in dress,
+but she introduced the wearing of neck-ruffs. She also wore hoods, the
+favorite head-covering of all Frenchwomen at that time. This form of
+head-gear was sometimes called a widow’s peak, on account of a similar
+peak of black silk or white being often worn by widows, apparently of
+all European nations. Magdalen Beeckman, an American woman of Dutch
+descent (here), wears one. The name is still applied to a pointed
+growth of hair on the forehead. It has also been known as a headdress
+of Mary Queen of Scots, because some of her portraits display this
+pointed outline of head-gear. It continued until the time of Charles
+II. It is often found on church brasses, and was plainly a head-gear of
+dignity. A modified form is shown in the portrait of Lady Mary Armine.
+
+Stubbes in his _Anatomie of Abuses_ gives a notion of the importance of
+the French hood when he speaks of the straining of all classes for rich
+attire: that “every artificer’s wife” will not go without her hat of
+velvet every day; “every merchant’s wife and meane gentlewoman” must be
+in her “French hood”; and “every poor man’s daughter” in her “taffatie
+hat or of wool at least.” We have seen what a fierce controversy burned
+over Madam Johnson’s “schowish” velvet hood.
+
+An excellent account of this black hood as worn by the Puritans is
+given in rhyme in “Hudibras _Redivivus_,” a long poem utterly worthless
+save for the truthful descriptions of dress; it runs:—
+
+
+“The black silk Hood, with formal pride
+First roll’d, beneath the chin was tied
+So close, so very trim and neat,
+So round, so formal, so complete,
+That not one jag of wicked lace
+Or rag of linnen white had place
+Betwixt the black bag and the face,
+Which peep’d from out the sable hood
+Like Luna from a sullen cloud.”
+
+
+It was doubtless selected by the women followers of Fox on account of
+its ancient record of sobriety and sanctity.
+
+
+“Are the pinch’d cap and formal hood the emblems of sanctity? Does your
+virtue consist in your dress, Mrs. Prim?”
+
+
+writes Mrs. Centlivre in _A Bold Stroke for a Wife_.
+
+The black hood was worn long by Quaker women ere they adopted the
+beaver hat of the eighteenth century, and the poke-bonnet of the
+nineteenth century. Here is given a portrait of Hannah Callowhill Penn,
+a Quaker, the second wife of William Penn. She was a sensible woman
+brought up in a home where British mercantile thrift vied with Quaker
+belief in adherence to sober attire, and her portrait plainly shows her
+character. Penn’s young and pretty wife of his youth wears a
+fashionable pocket-hoop and rich brocade dress; but she wears likewise
+the simple black hood (here).
+
+The dominance of this black French hood came not, however, through its
+wear by sober-faced, discreet English Puritans and Quakers, but through
+a French influence, a court influence, the earnestness of its adoption
+by Madame de Maintenon, wife of King Louis XIV of France. The whole
+dress of this strange ascetic would by preference have been that of a
+penitent; but the king had a dislike of anything like mourning, so she
+wore dresses of some dark color other than black, generally a dull
+brown. The conventual aspect of her attire was added to by this large
+black hood, which was her constant wear, and is seen in her portraits.
+The life at court became melancholy, dejected, filled with icy reserve.
+And Madame, whether she rode “shut up in a close chair,” says Duclos,
+“to avoid the least breath of air, while the King walked by her side,
+taking off his hat each time he stopped to speak to her”; or when she
+attended services in the chapel, sitting in a closed gallery; or even
+in her own sombre apartments, bending in silence over ecclesiastic
+needlework,—everywhere, her narrow, yellow, livid face was shadowed and
+buried in this black hood.
+
+
+Madame de Miramion. Madame de Miramion.
+
+Her strange power over the king was in force in 1681, and, until his
+death in 1715, this sable hood, so unlike the French taste, covered the
+heads of French women of all ages and ranks. The genial, almost
+quizzical countenance of that noble and charitable woman, Madame de
+Miramion, wears a like hood.
+
+This French hood is prominent everywhere in book illustrations of the
+eighteenth century and even of earlier years. The loosely tied corners
+and the sides appear under the straw hats upon many of the figures in
+Tempest’s _Cryes of London_, 1698, such as the Milk woman, the “Newes”
+woman, etc., which publication, I may say in passing, is a wonderful
+source for the student of everyday costume. I give the Strawberry Girl
+on this page to show the ordinary form of the French hood on plain
+folk. _Misson’s Memories_, published also in 1698, it gives the
+milkmaids on Mayday in like hoods. The early editions of Hudibras show
+these hoods, and in Hogarth’s works they may be seen; not always of
+black, of course, in later years, but ever of the same shape.
+
+
+The Strawberry Girl. The Strawberry Girl.
+
+The hood worn by the Normans was called a chaperon. It was a sort of
+pointed bag with an oval opening for the face; sometimes the point was
+of great length, and was twisted, folded, knotted. In the Bodleian
+Library is a drawing of eleven figures of young lads and girls playing
+_Hoodman-blind_ or _Blindman’s-buff_. The latter name came from the
+buffet or blow which the players gave with their twisted chaperon
+hoods. The blind man simply put his hood on “hind side afore,” and was
+effectually blinded. These figures are of the fifteenth century.
+
+
+Black Silk Hood. Black Silk Hood.
+
+The wild latitude of spelling often makes it difficult to define an
+article of dress. I have before me a letter of the year 1704, written
+in Boston, asking that a riding-hood be sent from England of any color
+save yellow; and one sentence of the instructions reads thus, “If ’tis
+velvet let it be a shabbaroon; if of cloth, a French hood.” I abandoned
+“shabbaroon” as a wholly lost word; until Mrs. Gummere announced that
+the word was chaperon, from the Norman hood just described. This
+chaperon is specifically the hood worn by the Knights of the Garter
+when in full dress; in general it applies to any ample hood which
+completely covers head and face save for eye-holes. Another hood was
+the sortie.
+
+
+Quilted Hood. Quilted Hood.
+
+The term “coif,” spelt in various ways, quoif, quoiffe, coiffer,
+ciffer, quoiffer, has been held to apply to the French hood; but it
+certainly did not in America, for I find often in inventories side by
+side items of black silk hoods and another of quoifs, which I believe
+were the white undercaps worn with the French hood; just as a coif was
+the close undercap for men’s wear.
+
+Through the two centuries following the assumption of the French hood
+came a troop of hoods, though sometimes under other names. In 1664
+Pepys tells of his wife’s yellow bird’s-eye hood, “very fine, to
+church, as the fashion now is.” Planché says hoods were not displaced
+by caps and bonnets till George II’s time.
+
+In the list of the “wedding apparell” of Madam Phillips, of Boston, are
+velvet hoods, love-hoods, and “sneal hoods”; hoods of Persian, of
+lustring, of gauze; frequently scarlet hoods are named. In 1712 Richard
+Hall sent, from Barbadoes to Boston, a trunk of his deceased wife’s
+finery to be sold, among which was “one black Flowered Gauze Hoode,”
+and he added rather spitefully that he “could send better but it would
+be too rich for Boston.” He was a grandson of Madam Symonds of Ipswich.
+Furbelowed gauze hoods were then owned by Boston women, and must have
+been pretty things. Their delicacy has kept them from being preserved
+as have been velvet and Persian hoods.
+
+For the years 1673 to 1721 we have a personal record of domestic life
+in Boston, a diary which is the sole storehouse to which we can turn
+for intimate knowledge of daily deeds in that little town. A scant
+record it is, as to wearing apparel; for the diary-writer, Samuel
+Sewall, sometime business man, friend, neighbor, councillor, judge,—and
+always Puritan,—had not a regard of dress as had his English
+contemporary, the gay Samuel Pepys, or even that sober English
+gentleman, John Evelyn. In Pepys’s pages we have frequent and
+light-giving entries as to dress, interested and interesting entries.
+In Judge Sewall’s diary, any references to dress are wholly accidental
+and not related as matters of any moment, save one important exception,
+his attitude toward wigs and wig-wearing. I could wish Sewall had had a
+keener eye for dress, for he wrote in strong, well-ordered English; and
+when he was deeply moved he wrote with much color in his pen. The most
+spirited episodes in the book are the judge’s remarkable and varied
+courtships after he was left a widower at the age of sixty-five, and
+again when sixty-eight. While thus courting he makes almost his sole
+reference to women’s dress,—that Madam Mico when he called came to him
+in a splendid dress, and that Madam Winthrop’s dress, _after she had
+refused him_, was “not so clean as sometime it had been.” But an
+article of his own dress, nevertheless, formed an important factor in
+his unsuccessful courtship of Madam Winthrop—his hood. When all the
+other widowers of the community, dignified magistrates, parsons, and
+men of professions, all bourgeoned out in stately full-bottomed wigs,
+what woman would want to have a lover who came a-courting in a hood? A
+detachable hood with a cloak, I doubt not he wore, like the one owned
+by Judge Curwen, his associate in that terrible tale of Salem’s
+bigotry, cruelty, and credulity, the Witchcraft Trial. I cannot fancy
+Judge Sewall in a scarlet cloak and hood—a sad-colored one seems more
+in keeping with his temperament.
+
+Perhaps our old friend, the judge, wore his hood under his hat, as did
+the sober citizens in Piers Plowman; and as did judges in England.
+
+It is certain that many men wore hoods; and they wore occasionally a
+garment which was really woman’s wear, namely, a “riding hood”; which
+was also called a Dutch hood, and was like Elinor Rummin’s hake. This
+riding-hood was really more of a cloak than a head-covering, as it
+often had arm-holes. It might well be classed with cloaks. I may say
+here that it is not possible, either by years or by topics, to isolate
+completely each chapter of this book from the other. Its very
+arrangement, being both by chronology and subject, gives me
+considerable liberty, which I now take in this chapter, by retaining
+the riding-hood among hoods, simply because of its name.
+
+
+Pink Silk Hood. Pink Silk Hood.
+
+
+Pug Hood. Pug Hood.
+
+On May 6, 1717, the _Boston News Letter_ gave a description of a gayly
+attired Indian runaway; she wore off a “red Camblet Ryding Hood fac’d
+with blue.” Another servant absconded with an orange-colored
+riding-hood with arm-holes. I have an ancient pattern of a riding-hood;
+it was found in the bottom of an old hair-covered trunk. It was marked
+“London Ryding Hood.” With it were rolled several packages of bits of
+woollen stuff, one of scarlet broadcloth, one of blue camlet, plainly
+labelled “Cuttings from Apphia’s ryding hood” and “Pieces from Mary’s
+ryding hood,” showing that they had been placed there with the pattern
+when the hood was cut. It is a cape, cut in a deep point in front and
+back; the extreme length of the points from the collar being about
+twenty-six inches. The hood is precisely like the one on Judge Curwen’s
+cloak, like the hoods of Shaker cloaks. As bits of silk are rolled with
+the wool pieces, I infer that these riding-hoods were silk lined.
+
+A most romantic name was given to the riding-hood after the battle of
+Preston in 1715. The Earl of Nithsdale, after the defeat of the
+Jacobites, was imprisoned in the Tower of London under sentence of
+death. From thence he made his escape through his wife’s coolness and
+ingenuity. She visited him dressed in a large riding-hood which could
+be drawn closely over her face. He escaped in her dress and hood, fled
+to the continent, and lived thirty years in safety in France. After
+that dashing rescue, these hoods were known as Nithsdales. The
+head-covering portion still resembled the French hood, but the
+shoulder-covering portion was circular and ruffled—according to
+Hogarth. In Durfey’s _Wit and Mirth_, 1719, is a spirited song
+commemorating this “sacred wife,” who—
+
+
+“by her Wits immortal pains
+With her quick head has saved his brains.”
+
+
+One verse runs thus:—
+
+
+“Let Traitors against Kings conspire
+Let secret spies great Statesmen hire,
+Nought shall be by detection got
+If Woman may have leave to plot.
+There’s nothing clos’d with Bars or Locks
+Can hinder Night-rayls, Pinners, Smocks;
+For they will everywhere make good
+As now they’ve done the Riding-hood.”
+
+
+In 1737 “pug hoods” were in fashion. We have no proof of their shape,
+though I am told they were the close, plain, silk hood sometimes worn
+under other hoods. One is shown here. Pumpkin hoods of thickly wadded
+wool were prodigiously hot head-coverings; they were crudely pumpkin
+shaped. Knitted hoods, under such names as “comforters,” “fascinators,”
+“rigolettes,” “nubias,” “opera hoods,” “molly hoods,” are of
+nineteenth-century invention.
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS
+
+
+_“Within my memory the Ladies covered their lovely Necks with a Cloak,
+this was exchanged for the Manteel; this again was succeeded by the
+Pelorine; the Pelorine by the Neckatee; the Neckatee by the Capuchin,
+which hath now stood its ground for a long time.”_
+
+—“Covent Garden Journal,” May 1, 1752.
+
+
+_“Mary Wallace and Clemintina Ferguson Just arrived from the Kingdom of
+Ireland intend to follow the business of Mantua making and have
+furnished themselves from London in patterns of the following kinds of
+wear, and have fixed a correspondence so to have from thence the
+earliest Fashions in Miniature. They are at Peter Clarke’s within two
+doors of William Walton’s, Esq., in the Fly. Ladies and Gentlemen that
+employ them may depend on being expeditiously and reasonably served in
+making the following Articles, that is to say—Sacks, Negligees,
+Negligee-night-gowns, plain-nightgowns, pattanlears, shepherdesses,
+Roman cloaks, Cardinals, Capuchins, Dauphinesses, Shades lorrains,
+Bonnets and Hives.”_
+
+—“New York Mercury,” May, 1757.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS
+
+
+U
+
+
+nder the general heading of cloaks I intend to write of the various
+capelike shoulder-coverings, for both men and women, which were worn in
+the two centuries of costume whereof this book treats. Often it is
+impossible to determine whether a garment should be classed as a hood
+or a cloak, for so many cloaks were made with head-coverings. Both
+capuchins and cardinals, garments of popularity for over a century, had
+hoods, and were worn as head-gear.
+
+There is shown here a full, long cloak of rich scarlet broadcloth,
+which is the oldest cloak I know. It has an interesting and romantic
+history. No relic in Salem is more noteworthy than this. It has
+survived since witchcraft days; and with right care, care such as it
+receives from its present owner, will last a thousand years. It was
+worn by Judge Curwen, one of the judges in those dark hours for Salem;
+and is still owned by Miss Bessie Curwen, his descendant. It will be
+noted that it bears a close resemblance to the Shaker cloaks of to-day,
+though the hood is handsomer. This hood also is detached from the cape.
+The presiding justice in the Salem witchcraft trials was William
+Stoughton, a severe Puritan. In later years Judge Sewall, his
+fellow-judge, in an agony of contrition, remorse, self-reproach,
+self-abnegation, and exceeding sorrow at those judicial murders, stood
+in Boston meeting-house, at a Sabbath service while his pastor read
+aloud his confession of his cruel error, his expression of his remorse
+therefor. A striking figure is he in our history. No thoughtful person
+can regard without emotions of tenderest sympathy and admiration that
+benignant white-haired head, with black skullcap, bowed in public
+disgrace, which was really his honor. But Judge Stoughton never
+expressed, in public or private, remorse or even regret. I doubt if he
+ever felt either. He plainly deemed his action right. I wish he could
+tell us what he thinks of it now. In his portrait here he wears a
+skullcap, as does Judge Sewall in his portrait, and a cloak with a cape
+like that of his third associate, Judge Curwen. Judge Sewall had both
+cloak and hood. Possibly all judges wore them. Judge Stoughton’s cloak
+has a rich collar and a curious clasp.
+
+
+Scarlet Broadcloth Hooded Cloak. Scarlet Broadcloth Hooded Cloak.
+
+Stubbes of course told of the fashion of cloak-wearing:—
+
+
+“They have clokes also in nothing discrepant from the rest; of dyverse
+and sundry colours, white red tawnie black, green yellow russet purple
+violet and an infinyte of other colours. Some of cloth silk velvet
+taffetie and such like; some of the Spanish French or Dutch fashion.
+Some short, scarcely reaching to the gyrdlestead or waist, some to the
+knee, and othersome trayling upon the ground almost like gownes than
+clokes. These clokes must be garded laced &; thorouly full, and
+sometimes so lined as the inner side standeth almost in as much as the
+outside. Some have sleeves, othersome have none. Some have hoodes to
+pull over the head, some have none. Some are hanged with points and
+tassels of gold silver silk, some without all this. But howsoever it
+bee, the day hath bene when one might have bought him two Clokes for
+lesse than now he can have one of these Clokes made for. They have such
+store of workmanship bestowed upon them.”
+
+
+It is such descriptions as this that make me regard in admiration this
+ancient Puritan. Would that I had the power of his pen! Fashion-plates,
+forsooth! The _Journal of the Modes_!—pray, what need have we of any
+pictures or any mantua-maker’s words when we can have such a
+description as this. Why! the man had a perfect genius for millinery!
+Had he lived three centuries later, we might have had Master Stubbes in
+full control (openly or secretly, according to his environment) of some
+dress-making or tailoring establishment _pour les dames_.
+
+The lining of these cloaks was often very gay in color and costly;
+“standing in as much as the outside.” We find a son of Governor
+Winthrop writing in 1606:—
+
+
+“I desire you to bring me a very good camlet cloake lyned with what you
+like except blew. It may be purple or red or striped with those or
+other colors if so worn suitable and fashionable.... I would make a
+hard shift rather than not have the cloak.”
+
+
+Similar cloaks of scarlet, and of blue lined with scarlet, formed part
+of the uniform of soldiers for many years and for many nations. They
+were certainly the wear of thrifty comfortable English gentlemen. Did
+not John Gilpin wear one on his famous ride?
+
+
+“There was all that he might be
+  Equipped from head to toe,
+His long red cloak well-brushed and neat
+  He manfully did throw.”
+
+
+Scarlet was a most popular color for all articles of dress in the early
+years of the eighteenth century. Like the good woman in the Book of
+Proverbs, both English and American housewife “clothed her household in
+scarlet.” Women as well as men wore these scarlet cloaks. It is curious
+to learn from Mrs. Gummere that even Quakers wore scarlet. When
+Margaret Fell married George Fox, greatest of Quakers, he bought her a
+scarlet mantle. And in 1678 he sent her scarlet cloth for another
+mantle. There was good reason in the wear of scarlet; it both was warm
+and looked warm; and the color was a lasting one. It did not fade like
+many of the homemade dyes.
+
+
+Judge Stoughton. Judge Stoughton.
+
+A very interesting study is that of color in wearing apparel. Beginning
+with the few crude dyes of mediaeval days, we could trace the history
+of dyeing, and the use and invention of new colors and tints. The names
+of these colors are delightful; the older quaint titles seem
+wonderfully significant. We read of such tints as billymot, phillymurt,
+or philomot (feuille-mort), murry, blemmish, gridolin (gris-de-lin or
+flax blossom), puce colour, foulding colour, Kendal green, Lincoln
+green, treen-colour, watchet blue, barry, milly, tuly, stammel red,
+Bristol red, zaffer-blue, which was either sapphire-blue or
+zaffre-blue, and a score of fanciful names whose signification and
+identification were lost with the death of the century. Historical
+events were commemorated in new hues; we have the political,
+diplomatic, and military history of various countries hinted to us.
+Great discoveries and inventions give names to colors. The materials
+and methods of dyeing, especially domestic dyes, are most interesting.
+An allied topic is the significance of colors, the limitation of their
+use. For instance, the study of blue would fill a chapter. The dress of
+’prentices and serving-men in Elizabeth’s day was always blue blue
+cloaks in winter, blue coats in summer. Blue was not precisely a
+livery; it was their color, the badge of their condition in life, as
+black is now a parson’s. Different articles of dress clung to certain
+colors. Green stockings had their time and season of clothing the
+sturdy legs of English dames as inevitably as green stalks filled the
+fields. Think of the years of domination of the green apron; of the
+black hood—it is curious indeed.
+
+In such exhaustive books upon special topics as the _History of the
+Twelve Great Livery Companies of London_ we find wonderfully
+interesting and significant proof of the power of color; also in many
+the restrictive sumptuary laws of the Crown.
+
+It would appear that this long, scarlet cloak never was out of wear for
+men and women until the nineteenth century. It was, at times, not the
+height of the fashion, but still was worn. Various ancient citizens of
+Boston, of Salem, are recalled through letter or traditions as clinging
+long to this comfortable cloak. Samuel Adams carried a scarlet cloak
+with him when he went to Washington.
+
+I shall tell in a later chapter of my own great-great-grandmother’s
+wear of a scarlet cloak until the opening years of the nineteenth
+century. During and after the Revolution these cloaks remained in high
+favor for women. French officers, writing home to France glowing
+accounts of the fair Americans, noted often that the ladies wore
+scarlet cloaks, and Madame Riedesel asserted that all gentlewomen in
+Canada never left the house save in a scarlet silk or cloth cloak.
+
+“A woman’s long scarlet cloak, almost new with a double cape,” had been
+one of the articles feloniously taken from the house of Benjamin
+Franklin, printer, in Philadelphia, in 1750. Debby Franklin’s dress, if
+we can judge from what was stolen, was a gay revel of color. Among the
+articles was one gown having a pattern of “large red roses and other
+large yellow flowers with blue in some of the flowers with many green
+leaves.”
+
+In the _Life of Jonathan Trumbull_ we read that when a collection was
+taken in the Lebanon church for the benefit of the soldiers of the
+Continental army, when money, jewels, clothing, and food were gathered
+in a great heap near the pulpit, Madam Faith Trumbull rose up, threw
+from her shoulders her splendid scarlet cloth cloak, a gift from Count
+Rochambeau, advanced to the altar and laid the cloak with other
+offerings of patriotism and generosity. It was used, we are told, to
+trim the uniforms of the Continental officers and soldiers.
+
+
+Woman’s Cloak. From Hogarth. Woman’s Cloak. From Hogarth.
+
+One of the first entries in regard to dress made by Philip Fithian in
+1773, when he went to Virginia as a school-teacher, was that “almost
+every Lady wears a Red Cloak; and when they ride out they tye a Red
+Handkerchief over their Head &; Face; so when I first came to Virginia,
+I was distrest whenever I saw a Lady, for I thought she had the
+Tooth-Ach!” When the young tutor left his charge a year later, he wrote
+a long letter of introduction, instruction, and advice to his
+successor; and so much impression had this riding-dress still upon him
+that he recounted at length the “Masked Ladies,” as he calls them,
+explaining that the whole neck and face was covered, save a narrow slit
+for the eyes, as if they had “the Mumps or Tooth-Ach.” It is possible
+that the insect torments encountered by the fair riders may have been
+the reason for this cloaking and masking. Not only mosquitoes and flies
+and fleas were abundant, but Fithian tells of the irritating illness
+and high fever of the fairest of his little flock from being bitten
+with ticks, “which cover her like a distinct smallpox.”
+
+In seventeenth-century inventories an occasional item is a rocket. I
+think no better description of a rocket can be given than that of Celia
+Fiennes:—
+
+
+“You meete all sorts of countrywomen wrapped up in the mantles called
+West Country Rockets, a large mantle doubled together, of a sort of
+serge, some are linsey-woolsey and a deep fringe or fag at the lower
+end; these hang down, some to their feet, some only just below the
+waist; in the summer they are all in white garments of this sort, in
+the winter they are in red ones.”
+
+
+This would seem much like a blanket shawl, but the word was also
+applied to the scarlet round cloak.
+
+Another much-used name and cloaklike garment was the roquelaure. A very
+good contemporary definition may be copied from _A Treatise on the
+Modes_, 1715; it says it is “a short abridgement or compendium of a
+coat which is dedicated to the Duke of Roquelaure.” It was simply a
+shorter cloak than had been worn, and it was hoodless; for the great
+curled wigs with heavy locks well over the shoulders made hoods
+superfluous; and even impossible, for men’s wear. It was very speedily
+taken into favor by women; and soon the advertisements of lost articles
+show that it was worn by women universally as by men. In the _Boston
+News Letter_, in 1730, a citizen advertises that he has lost his “Blue
+Cloak or Roculo with brass buttons.” This was the first of an ingenious
+series of misspellings which produced at times a word almost unrelated
+to the original French word. Rocklow, rockolet, roquelo, rochelo,
+roquello, and even rotkello have I found. Ashton says that scarlet
+cloth was the favorite fabric for roquelaures in England; and he deems
+the scarlet roclows and rocliers with gold loops and buttons “exceeding
+magnifical.” I note in the American advertisements that the lost
+roquelaures are of very bright colors; some were of silk, some of
+camlet; generally they are simply ‘cloth.’ Many of the American
+roquelaures had double capes. I think those handsome, gay cloaks must
+have given a very bright, cheerful aspect to the town streets of the
+middle of the eighteenth century.
+
+Sir William Pepperell, who was ever a little shaky in his spelling, but
+possibly no more so than his neighbors, sent in 1737 from Piscataqua to
+one Hooper in England for “A Handsom Rockolet for my daughter of about
+15 yrs. old, or what is ye Most Newest Fashion for one of her age to
+ware at meeting in ye Winter Season.”
+
+The capuchin was a hooded cloak named from the hooded garment worn by
+the Capuchin monks. The date 1752 given by Fairholt as an early date of
+its wear is far wrong. Fielding used the word in _Tom Jones_ in 1749;
+other English publications, in 1709; and I find it in the _Letters of
+Madame de Sévigné_ as early as 1686. The cardinal, worn at the same
+date, was originally of scarlet cloth, and I find was generally of some
+wool stuff. At one time I felt sure that cardinal was always the name
+for the woollen cloak, and capuchin of the silken one; but now I am a
+bit uncertain whether this is a rule. Judging from references in
+literature and advertisements, the capuchin was a richer garment than
+the cardinal. Capuchins were frequently trimmed liberally with lace,
+ribbons, and robings; were made of silk with gauze ruffles, or of
+figured velvet. One is here shown which is taken from one of Hogarth’s
+prints.
+
+
+A Capuchin. From Hogarth. A Capuchin. From Hogarth.
+
+This notice is from the _Boston Evening Post_ of January 13, 1772:—
+
+
+“Taken from Concert Hall on Thursday Evening a handsom Crimson Satin
+Capuchin trimmed with a rich white Blond Lace with a narrow Blond Lace
+on the upper edge Lined with White Sarsnet.”
+
+
+In 1752 capuchins and cardinals were much worn, especially purple ones.
+The _Connoisseur_ says all colors were neglected for purple. “In purple
+we glowed from hat to shoe. In such request were ribbons and silks of
+that famous color that neither milliner mercer nor dyer could meet the
+demand.”
+
+The names “cardinal” and “capuchin” had been derived from monkish wear,
+and the cape, called a pelerine, had an allied derivation; it is said
+to be derived from _pèlerin_—meaning a pilgrim. It was a small cape
+with longer ends hanging in front; and was invented as a light, easily
+adjustable covering for the ladies’ necks, which had been left so
+widely and coldly bare by the low-cut French bodices. It is said that
+the garment was invented in France in 1671. I do not find the word in
+use in America till 1730. Then mantua-makers advertised that they would
+make them. Various materials were used, from soft silk and thin cloth
+to rich velvet; but silk pelerines were more common.
+
+In 1743, in the _Boston News Letter_, Henrietta Maria East advertised
+that “Ladies may have their Pellerines made” at her mantua-making shop.
+In 1749 “pellerines” were advertised for sale in the _Boston Gazette_
+and a black velvet “pellerine” was lost.
+
+In the quotation heading this chapter, manteel, pelerine, and neckatee
+precede the capuchin; but in fact the capuchin is as old as the
+pelerine. Beyond the fact that all mantua-makers made neckatees, and
+that they were a small cape, this garment cannot be described. It
+required much less stuff than either capuchin or cardinal. The
+“manteel” was, of course, as old as the cloak. Elijah “took his mantle
+and wrapped it together, and smote the waters.” In the Middle Ages the
+mantle was a great piece of cloth in any cloaklike shape, of which the
+upper corners were fastened at the neck. Often one of the front edges
+was thrown over one shoulder. In the varied forms of spelling and
+wearing, as manto, manteau, mantoon, mantelet, and mantilla the
+foundation is the same. We have noted the richness and elegance of
+Madam Symonds’s mantua. We could not forget the word and its
+signification while we have so important a use of it in mantua-maker.
+
+
+Lady Caroline Montagu. Lady Caroline Montagu.
+
+Dauphiness was the name of a certain style of mantle, which was most
+popular about 1750. Harriot Paine had “Dauphiness Mantles” for sale in
+Boston in 1755. A rude drawing in an old letter indicates that the
+“Dauphiness” had a deep point at the back, and was cut up high at the
+arm-hole. It was of thin silk, and was trimmed all around the lower
+edge with a deep, full frill of the silk, which at the arm-hole fell
+over the arm like a short sleeve.
+
+Many were the names of those pretty little cloaks and capes which were
+worn with the sacque-shaped gowns. The duchess was one; we revived the
+name for a similar mantle in 1870. The pelisse was in France the cloak
+with arm-holes, shown, here, upon one of Sir Joshua Reynolds’s engaging
+children. The pelisse in America sometimes had sleeves, I am sure; and
+was hardly a cloak. It is difficult to classify some forms which seem
+almost jackets. A general distinction may be made not to include
+sleeved garments with the cloaks; but several of the manteaus had
+loose, large, flowing sleeves, and some like Madam Symonds’s had
+detached sleeves. It is also difficult to know whether some of the
+negligees were cloaks or sacque-like gowns. And there is the other
+extreme; some of the smaller, circular neck-coverings like the
+van-dykes are not cloaks. They are scarcely capes; they are merely
+collars; but there are still others which are a bit bigger and are
+certainly capes. And are there not also capes, like the neckatee, which
+may be termed cloaks? Material, too, is bewildering; a light gauze
+thing of ribbons and furbelows like the Unella is not really a cloak,
+yet it takes a cloaklike form. There are no cut and dried rules as to
+size, form, or weight of these cloaks, capes, collars, and hoods, so I
+have formed my own classes and assignments.
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN
+
+
+_“Rise up to thy Elders, put off thy Hat, make a Leg”_
+
+—“Janua Linguarum,” COMENIUS, 1664.
+
+
+_“Little ones are taught to be proud of their clothes before they can
+put them on.”_
+
+—“Essay on Human Understanding,” LOCKE, 1687.
+
+
+_“When thou thyself, a watery, pulpy, slobbery Freshman and newcomer on
+this Planet, sattest mewling in thy nurse’s arms; sucking thy coral,
+and looking forth into the world in the blankest manner, what hadst
+thou been without thy blankets and bibs and other nameless hulls?”_
+
+—“Sartor Resartus,” THOMAS CARLYLE, 1836.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN
+
+
+W
+
+
+hen we reflect that in any community the number of “the younger sort”
+is far larger than of grown folk, when we know, too, what large
+families our ancestors had, in all the colonies, we must deem any
+picture of social life, any history of costume, incomplete unless the
+dress of children is shown. French and English books upon costume are
+curiously silent regarding such dress. It might be alleged as a reason
+for this singular silence that the dress of young children was for
+centuries precisely that of their elders, and needed no specification.
+But infants’ dress certainly was widely different, and full of historic
+interest, as well as quaint prettiness; and there were certain details
+of the dress of older children that were most curious and were wholly
+unlike the contemporary garb of their elders; sometimes these details
+were survivals of ancient modes for grown folk, sometimes their name
+was a survival while their form had changed.
+
+For the dress of children of the early years of colonial life—the
+seventeenth century—I have an unusual group of five portraits. One is
+the little Padishal child, shown with her mother in the frontispiece,
+one is Robert Gibbes (shown here). The third child is said to be John
+Quincy—his picture is opposite this page. The two portraits of Margaret
+and Henry Gibbes are owned in Virginia; but are too dimly photographed
+for reproduction. The portrait of Robert Gibbes is owned by inheritance
+by Miss Sarah B. Hager, of Kendal Green, Massachusetts. It is well
+preserved, having hung for over a hundred years on the same wall in the
+old house. He was four years old when this portrait was painted. It is
+marked 1670. John Quincy’s portrait is marked also plainly as one and a
+half years old, and with a date which is a bit dimmed; it is either
+1670 or 1690. If it is 1690, the picture can be that of John Quincy,
+though he would scarcely be as large as is the portrayed figure. If the
+date is 1670, it cannot be John Quincy, for he was born in 1689. The
+picture has the same checker-board floor as the three other Gibbes
+portraits, four rows of squares wide; and the child’s toes are set at
+the same row as are the toes of the shoes in the picture of Robert
+Gibbes.
+
+The portraits of Henry and Margaret Gibbes are also marked plainly
+1670. There was a fourth Gibbes child, who would have been just the age
+of the subject of the Quincy portrait; and it is natural that there
+should be a suspicion that this fourth portrait is of the fourth Gibbes
+child, not of John Quincy.
+
+
+John Quincy. John Quincy.
+
+Margaret Gibbes was born in 1663. Henry Gibbes was born in 1667. He
+became a Congregational minister. His daughter married Nathaniel
+Appleton, and through Nathaniel, John, Dr. John S., and John, the
+portrait, with that of Margaret, came to the present owner, General
+John W. S. Appleton, of Charlestown, West Virginia.
+
+The dress of these five children is of the same rich materials that
+would be worn by their mothers. The Padishal child wears black velvet
+like her mother’s gown; but her frock is brightened with scarlet points
+of color. The linings of the velvet hanging sleeves, the ribbon knots
+of the white virago-sleeve, the shoe-tip, the curious cap-tassel, are
+of bright scarlet. We have noted the dominance of scarlet in old
+English costumes. It was evidently the only color favored for children.
+The lace cap, the rich lace stomacher, the lace-edged apron, all are of
+Flemish lace. Margaret Gibbes wears a frock of similar shape, and
+equally rich and dark in color; it is a heavy brocade of blue and red,
+with a bit of yellow. Her fine apron, stomacher, and full sleeves are
+rich in needlework. Robert Gibbes’s “coat,” as a boy’s dress at that
+age then was called, is a striking costume. The inmost sleeves are of
+white lawn, over them are sleeves made of strips of galloon of a
+pattern in yellow, white, scarlet, and black, with a rolled cuff of red
+velvet. There is a similar roll around the hem of the coat. Still
+further sleeves are hanging sleeves of velvet trimmed with the galloon.
+
+It will be noted that his hanging sleeve is cut square and trimmed
+squarely across the end. It is similar to the sleeves worn at the same
+time by citizens of London in their formal “liveryman’s” dress, which
+had bands like pockets, that sometimes really were pockets.
+
+His plain, white, hemstitched band would indicate that he was a boy,
+did not the swing of his petticoats plainly serve to show it, as do
+also his brothers’ “coats.” That child knew well what it was to tread
+and trip on those hated petticoats as he went upstairs. I know how he
+begged for breeches. The apron of John Quincy varies slightly in shape
+from that of the other boy, but the general dress is like, save his
+pretty, gay, scarlet hood, worn over a white lace cap. One unique
+detail of these Gibbes portraits, and the Quincy portrait, is the
+shoes. In all four, the shoes are of buff leather, with absolutely
+square toes, with a thick, scarlet sole to which the buff-leather upper
+seems tacked with a row either of long, thick, white stitches or of
+heavy metal-headed nails; these white dots are very ornamental. One
+pair of the shoes has great scarlet roses on the instep. The square toe
+was distinctly a Cavalier fashion. It is in Miss Campion’s portrait,
+facing this page, and in the print of the Prince of Orange here, and is
+found in many portraits of the day. But these American shoes are in the
+minor details entirely unlike any English shoes I have seen in any
+collection elsewhere, and are most interesting. They were doubtless
+English in make.
+
+The portrait of John Quincy resembles much in its dress that of Oliver
+Cromwell when two years old, the picture now at Chequers Court.
+Cromwell’s linen collar is rounded, and a curious ornament is worn in
+front, as a little girl would wear a locket. The whole throat and a
+little of the upper neck is bare. Dark hair, slightly curled, comes out
+from the close cap in front of the ears. This picture of Cromwell
+distinctly resembles his mother’s portrait.
+
+
+Miss Campion, 1667. Miss Campion, 1667.
+
+The quaint tassel or rosette or feather on the cap of the Padishal
+child was a fashion of the day. It is seen in many Dutch portraits of
+children. In a curious old satirical print of Oliver Cromwell preaching
+are the figures of two little children drawn standing by their mother’s
+side. One child’s back is turned for our sight, and shows us what might
+well be the back of the gown of the Padishal child. The cap has the
+same ornament on the crown, and the hanging sleeves—of similar
+form—have, at intervals of a few inches apart from shoulder to heel, an
+outside embellishment of knots of ribbon. There is also a band or strip
+of embroidery or passementerie up the back of the gown from skirt-hem
+to lace collar, with a row of buttons on the strip. This proves that
+the dress was fastened in the back, as the stiff, unbroken, white
+stomacher also indicates. The other child is evidently a boy. His gown
+is long and fur-edged. His cap is round like a Scotch bonnet, and has
+also a tuft or rosette at the crown. On either side hang long strings
+or ribbon bands reaching from the cap edge to the knee.
+
+These portraits of these little American children display nothing of
+that God-given attribute which we call genius, but they do possess a
+certain welcome trait, which is truthfulness; a hard attention to
+detail, which confers on them a quality of exactness of likeness of
+which we are very sensible. We have for comparison a series of
+portraits of the same dates, but of English children, the children of
+the royal and court families. I give here a part of the portrait group
+of the family of the Duke of Buckingham; namely, the Duchess of
+Buckingham and her two children, an infant son and a daughter, Mary.
+She was a wonderful child, known in the court as “Pretty Moll,” having
+the beauty of her father, the “handsomest-bodied” man in court, his
+vivacity, his vigor, and his love of dancing, all of which made him the
+prime favorite both of James and his son, Charles.
+
+A letter exists written by the duchess to her husband while he was gone
+to Spain with his thirty suits of richly embroidered garments of which
+I have written in my first chapter. The duchess writes of “Pretty
+Moll,” who was not a year old:—
+
+
+“She is very well, I thank God; and when she is set to her feet and
+held by her sleeves she will not go softly but stamp, and set one foot
+before another very fast, and I think she will run before she can go.
+She loves dancing extremely; and when the Saraband is played, she will
+get her thumb and finger together offering to snap; and then when “Tom
+Duff” is sung, she will shake her apron; and when she hears the tune of
+the clapping dance my Lady Frances Herbert taught the Prince, she will
+clap both her hands together, and on her breast, and she can tell the
+tunes as well as any of us can; and as they change tunes she will
+change her dancing. I would you were here but to see her, for you would
+take much delight in her now she is so full of pretty play and tricks.
+Everybody says she grows each day more like you.”
+
+
+Can you not see the engaging little creature, clapping her hands and
+trying to step out in a dance? No imaginary description could equal in
+charm this bit of real life, this word-picture painted in bright and
+living colors by a mother’s love. I give another merry picture of her
+childhood and widowhood in a later chapter. Many portraits of “Pretty
+Moll” were painted by Van Dyck, more than of any woman in England save
+the queen. One shows her in the few months that she was the child-wife
+of the eldest son of the Earl of Pembroke. She is in the centre of the
+great family group. She was married thrice; her favorite choice of
+character in which to be painted was Saint Agnes, who died rather than
+be married at all.
+
+
+Infant’s Cap. Infant’s Cap.
+
+Both mother and child in this picture wear a lace cap of unusual shape,
+rather broader where turned over at the ear than at the top. It is seen
+on a few other portraits of that date, and seems to have come to
+England with the queen of James I. It disappeared before the graceful
+modes of hair-dressing introduced by Queen Henrietta Maria.
+
+The genius of Van Dyck has preserved for us a wonderful portraiture of
+children of this period, the children of King Charles I. The earliest
+group shows the king and queen with two children; one a baby in arms
+with long clothes and close cap—this might have been painted yesterday.
+The little prince standing at his father’s knee is in a dark green
+frock, much like John Quincy’s, and apparently no richer. A painting at
+Windsor shows king and queen with the two princes, Charles and James;
+another, also at Windsor, gives the mother with the two sons. One at
+Turin gives the two princes with their sister. At Windsor, and in
+_replica_ at Berlin, is the famous masterpiece with the five children,
+dated 1637.
+
+
+Eleanor Foster. 1755. Eleanor Foster. 1755.
+
+This exquisite group shows Charles, the Prince of Wales (aged seven),
+with his arm on the head of a great dog; he is in the full garb of a
+grown man, a Cavalier. His suit is red satin; the shoes are white, with
+red roses. Mary, demure as in all her portraits, is aged six; she wears
+virago-sleeves made like those of Margaret Gibbes, with hanging sleeves
+over them, a lace stomacher, and cap, with tufts of scarlet, and hair
+curled lightly on the forehead, and pulled out at the side in ringlets,
+like that of her mother, Henrietta Maria. The Duke of York, aged two,
+wears a red dress spotted with yellow, with sleeves precisely like
+those of Robert Gibbes; white lace-edged apron, stomacher, and cap; his
+hair is in curls. The Princess Elizabeth was aged about two; she is in
+blue. Her cap is of wrought and tucked lawn, and she wears either a
+pearl ear-ring or a pearl pendant at the corner of the cap just at the
+ear, and a string of pearls around her neck. She has a gentle, serious
+face, one with a premonitory tinge of sadness. She was the favorite
+daughter of the king, and wrote the inexpressibly touching account of
+his last days in prison. She was but thirteen, and he said to her the
+day before his execution, “Sweetheart, you will forget all this.” “Not
+while I live,” she answered, with many tears, and promised to write it
+down. She lived but a short time, for she was broken-hearted; she was
+found dead, with her head lying on the religious book she had been
+reading—in which attitude she is carved on her tomb. The baby is
+Princess Anne, a fat little thing not a year old; she is naked, save
+for a close cap and a little drapery. She died when three and a half
+years old; died with these words on her lips, “Lighten Thou mine eyes,
+O Lord, that I sleep not the sleep of Death.” It was not Puritan
+children only at that time who were filled with deep religious thought,
+and gave expression to that thought even in infancy; children of the
+Church of England and of the Roman Catholic Church were all widely
+imbued with religious feeling, and Biblical words were the familiar
+speech of the day, of both young and old. It rouses in me strange
+emotions when I gaze at this portrait and remember all that came into
+the lives of these royal children. They had been happier had they been
+born, like the little Gibbes children, in America, and of untitled
+parents.
+
+
+[Illustration: William, Prince of Orange.]
+
+At Amsterdam may be seen the portrait of Princess Mary painted with her
+cousin, William of Orange, who became her child-husband. She had the
+happiest life of any of the five—if she ever could be happy after her
+father’s tragic death. In this later portrait she is a little older and
+sadder and stiffer. Her waist is more pinched, her shoulders narrower,
+her face more demure. His likeness is here given. The only marked
+difference in the dress of these children from the dress of the Gibbes
+children is in the lace; the royal family wear laces with deeply
+pointed edges, the point known as a Vandyke. The American children wear
+straight-edged laces, as was the general manner of laces of that day.
+An old print of the Duke of York when about seven years old is given
+(here). He carries in his hand a quaint racket.
+
+The costume worn by these children is like that of plebeian English
+children of the same date. A manuscript drawing of a child of the
+people in the reign of Charles I shows a precisely similar dress, save
+that the child is in leading-strings held by the mother; and in the
+belt to which the leading-strings are attached is thrust a “muckinder”
+or handkerchief.
+
+These leading-strings are seldom used now, but they were for centuries
+a factor in a child’s progress. They were a favorite gift to children;
+and might be a simple flat strip of strong stuff, or might be richly
+worked like the leading-strings which Mary, Queen of Scots embroidered
+for her little baby, James. These are three bands of Spanish pink satin
+ribbon, each about four or five feet long and over an inch wide. The
+three are sewed with minute over-and-over stitches into a flat band
+about four inches wide, and are embroidered with initials, emblems of
+the crown, a verse of a psalm, and a charming flower and grape design.
+The gold has tarnished into brown, and the flower colors are fled; but
+it is still a beautiful piece of work, speaking with no uncertain voice
+of a tender, loving mother and a womanly queen. There were
+crewel-worked leading-strings in America. One is prettily lined with
+strips of handsome brocade that had been the mother’s wedding
+petticoat; it is not an ill rival of the princely leading-strings.
+
+Another little English girl, who was not a princess, but who lived in
+the years when ran and played our little American children, was Miss
+Campion, who “minded her horn-book”—minded it so well that she has been
+duly honored as the only English child ever painted with horn-book in
+hand. Her petticoat and stomacher, her apron, and cap and hanging
+sleeves and square-toed shoes are just like Margaret Gibbes’s—bought in
+the same London shops, very likely.
+
+Not only did all these little English and American children dress
+alike, but so did French children, and so did Spanish children—only
+little Spanish girls had to wear hoops. Hoops were invented in Spain;
+and proud was the Spanish queen of them.
+
+Velasquez, contemporary with Van Dyck, painted the Infanta Maria
+Theresa; the portrait is now in the Prado at Madrid. She carries a
+handkerchief as big as a tablecloth; but above her enormous hoop
+appears not only the familiar virago-sleeve, but the straight whisk or
+collar, just like that of English children and dames. This child and
+the Princess Marguerite, by Velasquez, have the hair parted on one side
+with the top lock turned aside and tied with a knot of ribbon precisely
+as we tie our little daughters’ hair to-day; and as the bride of
+Charles II wore her hair when he married her. French children had not
+assumed hoops. I have an old French portrait before me of a little
+demoiselle, aged five, in a scarlet cloth gown with edgings of a narrow
+gray gimp or silver lace. All the sleeves, the slashes, the long,
+hanging sleeves are thus edged. She wears a long, narrow, white lawn
+apron, and her stiff bodice has a stomacher of lawn. There is a
+straight white collar tied with tiny bows in front and white cuffs; a
+scarlet close cap edged with silver lace completes an exquisite
+costume, which is in shape like that of Margaret Gibbes. The garments
+of all these children, royal and subject, are too long, of course, for
+comfort in walking; too stiff, likewise, for comfort in wearing; too
+richly laced to be suitable for everyday wear; too costly, save for
+folk of wealth; yet nevertheless so quaint, so becoming, so handsome,
+so rich, that we reluctantly turn away from them.
+
+The dress of all young children in families of estate was cumbersome to
+a degree. There exists to-day a warrant for the purchase of clothing of
+Mary Tudor, sister of Henry VIII, when she was a sportive, wilful,
+naughty little child of four. She wore such unwieldy and ugly guise as
+this: kirtles of tawny damask and black satin; gowns of green and
+crimson striped velvet edged with purple tinsel, which must have been
+hideous. All were lined with heavy black buckram. Indeed, the inner
+portions, the linings of old-time garments, even of royalty, were far
+from elegant. I have seen garments worn by grown princesses of the
+eighteenth century, whereof the rich brocade bodies were lined with
+common, heavy fabric, usually a stiff linen; and the sewing was done
+with thread as coarse as shoe-thread, often homespun. This, too, when
+the sleeve and neck-ruffles would be of needlework so exquisite that it
+could not be rivalled in execution to-day.
+
+Many of the older portraits of children show hanging sleeves. The rich
+claret velvet dresses of the Van Cortlandt twins, aged four, had
+hanging sleeves. This dress is given in my book, _Child Life in
+Colonial Days_, as is that of Katherine Ten Broeck, another child of
+Dutch birth living in New York, who also wore heavy hanging sleeves.
+
+The use of the word hanging sleeves in common speech and in literature
+is most interesting. It had a figurative meaning; it symbolized youth
+and innocence. This meaning was acquired, of course, from the wear for
+centuries of hanging sleeves by little children, both boys and girls.
+It had a second, a derivative signification, being constantly employed
+as a figure of speech to indicate second childhood; it was used with a
+wistful tender meaning as an emblem of the helplessness of feeble old
+age. The following example shows such an employment of the term.
+
+In 1720, Judge Samuel Sewall, of Boston, then about seventy-five years
+of age, wrote to another old gentleman, whose widowed sister he desired
+to marry, in these words:—
+
+
+“I remember when I was going from school at Newbury to have sometime
+met your sisters Martha and Mary in Hanging Sleeves, coming home from
+their school in Chandlers Lane, and have had the pleasure of speaking
+to them. And I could find it in my heart now to speak to Mrs. Martha
+again, now I myself am reduced to Hanging Sleeves.”
+
+
+William Byrd, of Westover, in Virginia, in one of his engaging and
+sprightly letters written in 1732, pictures the time of the patriarchs
+when “a man was reckoned at Years of Discretion at 100; Boys went into
+Breeches at about 40; Girles continued in Hanging Sleeves till 50, and
+plaid with their Babys till Threescore.”
+
+When Benjamin Franklin was seven years old, he wrote a poem which was
+sent to his uncle, a bright old Quaker. This uncle responded in clever
+lines which begin thus:—
+
+
+“’Tis time for me to throw aside my pen
+When Hanging-Sleeves read, write and rhyme like men.
+This forward Spring foretells a plenteous crop
+For if the bud bear grain, what will the top?”
+
+
+A curious use of the long hanging sleeve was as a pocket; that is, it
+would seem curious to us were it not for our acquaintance with the
+capacity of the sleeves of our unwelcome friend, Ah Sing. The pocketing
+sleeve of the time of Henry III still exists in the heraldic charge
+known as the manche, borne by the Hastings and Norton family. This is
+also called maunch, émanche, and mancheron. The word “manchette,” an
+ornamented cuff, retains the meaning of the word, as does manacle; all
+are from _manus_.
+
+Hanging sleeves had a time of short popularity for grown folk while
+Anne Boleyn was queen of England; for the little finger of her left
+hand had a double tip, and the long, graceful sleeves effectually
+concealed the deformity.
+
+In my book entitled _Child Life in Colonial Days_ I have given over
+thirty portraits of American children. These show the changes of
+fashions, the wear of children at various periods and ages. Childish
+dress ever reflected the dress of their elders, and often closely
+imitated it. Two very charming costumes are worn by two little children
+of the province of South Carolina. The little girl is but two years
+old. She is Ellinor Cordes, and was painted about 1740. She is a lovely
+little child of French features and French daintiness of dress, albeit
+a bright yellow brocaded satin would seem rather gorgeous attire for a
+girl of her years. The boy is her kinsman, Daniel Ravenel, and was then
+about five years old. He wore what might be termed a frock with
+spreading petticoats, which touched the ground; there is a decided
+boyishness in the tight-fitting, trim waistcoat with its silver buttons
+and lace, and the befrogged coat with broad cuffs and wrist ruffles,
+and turned-over revers, and narrow linen inner collar. It is an
+exceptionally pleasing boy’s dress, for a little boy.
+
+A somewhat similar but more feminine coat is worn by Thomas Aston
+Coffin; it opens in front over a white satin petticoat, and it has a
+low-cut neck and sleeves shortened to the elbow, and worn over full
+white undersleeves. Other portraits by Copley show the same dress of
+white satin, which boys wore till six years of age.
+
+
+Mrs. Theodore Sedgwick and Daughter. Mrs. Theodore Sedgwick and
+Daughter.
+
+Copley’s portrait of his own children is given on a later page. This
+family group always startles all who have seen it only in photographs;
+for its colors are so unexpected, so frankly crude and vivid. The
+individuals are all charming. The oldest child, the daughter,
+Elizabeth, stands in the foreground in a delightful white frock of
+striped gauze. This is worn over a pink slip, and the pink tints show
+in the thinner folds of whiteness; a fine piece of texture-painting.
+The gauze sash is tied in a vast knot, and lies out in a train; this is
+a more vivid pink, inclining to the tint of the old-rose damask
+furniture-covering. She wears a pretty little net and muslin cap with a
+cap-pin like a tiny rose. This single figure is not excelled, I think,
+by any child’s portrait in foreign galleries, nor is it often equalled.
+Nor can the exquisite expression of childish love and confidence seen
+on the face of the boy, John Singleton Copley, Junior, who later became
+Lord Lyndhurst, find a rival in painting. It is an unspeakably touching
+portrait to all who have seen upturned close to their own eyes the
+trusting and loving face of a beautiful son as he clung with strong
+boyish arms and affection to his mother’s neck.
+
+
+Infant Child of Francis Hopkinson Infant Child of Francis Hopkinson,
+“the Signer.” Painted by Francis Hopkinson.
+
+This little American boy, who became Lord Chancellor of England, wears
+a nankeen suit with a lilac-tinted sash. It is his beaver hat with gold
+hatband and blue feather that lies on the ground at the feet of the
+grandfather, Richard Clarke. The baby, held by the grandfather, wears a
+coral and bells on a lilac sash-ribbon; such a coral as we see in many
+portraits of infants. Another child in white-embroidered robe and dark
+yellow sash completes this beautiful family picture. Its great fault to
+me is the blue of Mrs. Copley’s gown, which is as vivid as a peacock’s
+breast. This painting is deemed Copley’s masterpiece; but an equal
+interest is that it is such an absolute and open expression of Copley’s
+lovable character and upright life. In it we can read his affectionate
+nature, his love of his sweet wife, his happy home-relations, and his
+pride in his beautiful children.
+
+There is ample proof, not only in the inventories which chance to be
+preserved, but in portraits of the times, that children’s dress in the
+eighteenth century was often costly. Of course the children of wealthy
+parents only would have their portraits painted; but their dress was as
+rich as the dress of the children of the nobility in England at the
+same time. You can see this in the colored reproduction of the
+portraits of Hon. James Bowdoin and his sister, Augusta, afterwards
+Lady Temple. That they were good likenesses is proved by the fact that
+the faces are strongly like those of the same persons in more mature
+years. You find little Augusta changed but slightly in matronhood in
+the fine pastel by Copley. In this portrait of the two Bowdoin
+children, the entire dress is given. Seldom are the shoes shown. These
+are interesting, for the boy’s square-toed black shoes with buckles are
+wholly unlike his sister’s blue morocco slippers with turned-up peaks
+and gilt ornaments from toe to instep, making a foot-gear much like
+certain Turkish slippers seen to-day. Her hair has the bedizenment of
+beads and feathers, which were worn by young girls for as many years as
+their mothers wore the same. The young lad’s dress is precisely like
+his father’s. There is much charm in these straight little figures.
+They have the aristocratic bearing which is a family trait of all of
+that kin. I should not deem Lady Temple ever a beauty, though she was
+called so by Manasseh Cutler, a minister who completely yielded to her
+charms when she was a grandmother and forty-four. This portrait of
+brother and sister is, I believe, by Blackburn. The dress is similar
+and the date the same as the portrait of the Misses Royall (one of whom
+became Lady Pepperell), which is by Blackburn.
+
+
+Mary Seton, 1763. Mary Seton, 1763.
+
+The portrait of a charming little American child is shown here. This
+child, in feature, figure, and attitude, and even in the companionship
+of the kitten, is a curious replica of a famous English portrait of
+“Miss Trimmer.”
+
+I have written at length in Chapter IV of a grandmother in the Hall
+family and of the Hall family connection. Let me tell of another
+grandmother, Madam Lydia Coleman, the daughter of the old Indian
+fighter, Captain Joshua Scottow. She, like Madam Symonds and Madam
+Stoddard, had had several husbands—Colonel Benjamin Gibbs,
+Attorney-General Anthony Checkley, and William Coleman. The Hall
+children were her grandchildren; and came to Boston for schooling at
+one time. Many letters exist of Hon. Hugh Hall to and from his
+grandmother, Madam Coleman. She writes thus.—
+
+
+“As for Richard since I told him I would write to his Father he is more
+orderly, &; he is very hungry, and has grown so much yt all his Clothes
+is too Little for him. He loves his book and his play too. I hired him
+to get a Chapter of ye Proverbs &; give him a penny every Sabbath day,
+&; promised him 5 shillings when he can say them all by heart. I would
+do my duty by his soul as well as his body.... He has grown a good boy
+and minds his School and Lattin and Dancing. He is a brisk Child &;
+grows very Cute and wont wear his new silk coat yt was made for him. He
+wont wear it every day so yt I don’t know what to do with it. It wont
+make him a jackitt. I would have him a good husbander but he is but a
+child. For shoes, gloves, hankers &; stockins, they ask very deare, 8
+shillings for a paire &; Richard takes no care of them. Richard wears
+out nigh 12 paire of shoes a year. He brought 12 hankers with him and
+they have all been lost long ago; and I have bought him 3 or 4 more at
+a time. His way is to tie knottys at one end &; beat ye Boys with them
+and then to lose them &; he cares not a bit what I will say to him.”
+
+
+Madam Coleman, after this handful, was given charge of his sister
+Sarah. When Missy arrived from the Barbadoes, she was eight years old.
+She brought with her a maid. The grandmother wrote back cheerfully to
+the parents that the child was well and brisk, as indeed she was. All
+the very young gentlemen and young ladies of Boston Brahmin blood paid
+her visits, and she gave a feast at a child’s dancing-party with the
+sweetmeats left over from her sea-store. Her stay in her grandmother’s
+household was surprisingly brief. She left unbidden with her maid, and
+went to a Mr. Binning’s to board; she sent home word to the Barbadoes
+that her grandmother made her drink water with her meals. Her brother
+wrote to Madam Coleman:—
+
+
+“We were all persuaded of your tender and hearty affection to my Sister
+when we recommended her to your parental care. We are sorry to hear of
+her Independence in removing from under the Benign Influences of your
+Wing &; am surprised she dare do it without our leave or consent or
+that Mr. Binning receive her at his house before he knew how we were
+affected to it. We shall now desire Mr. Binning to resign her with her
+waiting maid to you and in our Letter to him have strictly ordered her
+to Return to your House.”
+
+
+But no brother could control this spirited young damsel. Three months
+later a letter from Madam Coleman read thus:—
+
+
+“Sally wont go to school nor to church and wants a nue muff and a great
+many other things she don’t need. I tell her fine things are cheaper in
+Barbadoes. She is well and brisk, says her Brother has nothing to do
+with her as long as her father is alive.”
+
+
+Hugh Hall wrote in return, saying his daughter ought to have one room
+to sleep in, and her maid another, that it was not befitting children
+of their station to drink water, they should have wine and beer. We
+cannot wonder that they dressed like their elders since they were
+treated like their elders in other respects.
+
+The dress of very young girls was often extraordinarily rich. We find
+this order sent to London in 1739, for finery for Mary Cabell, daughter
+of Dr. William Cabell of Virginia, when she was but thirteen years
+old:—
+
+
+“1 Prayer Book (almost every such inventory had this item).
+1 Red Silk Petticoat.
+1 Very good broad Silver laced hat and hat-band.
+1 Pair Stays 17 inches round the waist.
+2 Pair fine Shoes.
+12 Pair fine Stockings.
+1 Hoop Petticoat.
+1 Pair Ear rings.
+1 Pair Clasps.
+3 Pair Silver Buttons set with Stones.
+1 Suit of Headclothes.
+4 Fine Handkerchiefs and Ruffles suitable.
+A Very handsome Knot and Girdle.
+A Fine Cloak and Short Apron.”
+
+
+
+
+The Bowdoin Children. The Bowdoin Children. Lady Temple and Governor
+James Bowdoin in Childhood.
+
+I never read such a list as this without picturing the delight of
+little Mary Cabell when she opened the box containing all these pretty
+garments.
+
+The order given by Colonel John Lewis for his young ward of eleven
+years old—another Virginia child—reads thus:—
+
+
+“A cap, ruffle, and tucker, the lace 5s. per yard.
+1 pair White Stays.
+8 pair White kid gloves.
+2 pair Colour’d kid gloves.
+2 pair worsted hose.
+3 pair thread hose.
+1 pair silk shoes laced.
+1 pair morocco shoes.
+4 pair plain Spanish shoes.
+2 pair calf shoes.
+1 Mask.
+1 Fan.
+1 Necklace.
+1 Girdle and Buckle.
+1 Piece fashionable Calico.
+4 yards Ribbon for Knots.
+1 Hoop Coat.
+1 Hat.
+1 1/2 Yard of Cambric.
+A Mantua and Coat of Slite Lustring.”
+
+
+Orders for purchases were regularly despatched to London agent by
+George Washington after his marriage. In 1761 he orders a full list of
+garments for both his stepchildren. “Miss Custis” was only six years
+old. These are some of the items:—
+
+
+“1 Coat made of Fashionable Silk.
+A Fashionable Cap or fillet with Bib apron.
+Ruffles and Tuckers, to be laced.
+4 Fashionable Dresses made of Long Lawn.
+2 Fine Cambrick Frocks.
+A Satin Capuchin, hat, and neckatees.
+A Persian Quilted Coat.
+1 p. Pack Thread Stays.
+4 p. Callimanco Shoes.
+6 p. Leather Shoes.
+2 p. Satin Shoes with flat ties.
+6 p. Fine Cotton Stockings.
+4 p. White Worsted Stockings.
+12 p. Mitts.
+6 p. White Kid Gloves.
+1 p. Silver Shoe Buckles.
+1 p. Neat Sleeve Buttons.
+6 Handsome Egrettes Different Sorts.
+6 Yards Ribbon for Egrettes.
+12 Yards Coarse Green Callimanco.”
+
+
+A Virginia gentleman, Colonel William Fleming, kept for several years a
+close account of the money he spent for his little daughters, who were
+young misses of ten and eleven in the year 1787. The most expensive
+single items are bonnets, each at £;4 10s.; an umbrella, £;2 8s. Cloth
+cloaks and saddles and bridles for riding were costly items. Tamboured
+muslin was at that time 18s. a yard; durant, 3s. 6d.; lutestring, 12s.;
+calico, 6s. 3d. Scarlet cloaks for each girl cost £;2 14s. each. Other
+dress materials besides those named above were cambric, linen, cotton,
+osnaburgs, negro cotton, book-muslin, ermin, nankeen, persian, Turkey
+cotton, shalloon, and swanskin. There were many yards of taste and
+ribbon, black lace, and edgings, and gauze—gauze—gauze. A curious item
+several times appearing is a “paper bonnet,” not bonnet-paper, which
+latter was a constant purchase on women’s lists. There were pen-knives,
+“scanes of silk,” crooked combs, morocco shoes, “nitting pins,”
+constant “sticks of pomatum,” fans, “chanes,” a shawl, a tamboured
+coat, gloves, stockings, trunks, bands and clasps, tooth-brushes, silk
+gloves, necklaces, “fingered gloves,” silk stockings, handkerchiefs,
+china teacups and saucers and silver spoons. All these show a very
+generous outfit.
+
+In the year 1770 a delightful, engaging little child came to Boston
+from Nova Scotia to live for a time with her aunt, a Boston
+gentlewoman, and to attend Boston schools. For the amusement of her
+parents so far away, and for practice in penmanship, she kept during
+the years 1771 and part of 1772 a diary. She was but ten years old when
+she began, but her intelligence and originality make this diary a
+valuable record of domestic life in Boston at that date. I have had the
+pleasure of publishing her diary with notes under the title, _Diary of
+Anna Green Winslow, a Boston School Girl, in the Year 1771_. I lived so
+much with her while transcribing her words that she seems almost like a
+child of my own. Like other unusual children she died young—when but
+nineteen. She was not so gifted and wonderful and rare a creature as
+that star among children, Marjorie Fleming, yet she was in many ways
+equally interesting; she was a frank, homely little flower of New
+England life destined never to grow old or weary, or tired or sad, but
+to live forever in eternal, happy childhood, through the magic living
+words in the hundred pages of her time-stained diary.
+
+She was of what Dr. Holmes called Boston Brahmin blood, was related to
+many of the wealthiest and best families of Boston and vicinity, and
+knew the best society. Dress was to her a matter of distinct
+importance, and her clothes were carefully fashionable. Her distress
+over wearing “an old red Domino” was genuine. We have in her words many
+references to her garments, and we find her dress very handsome. This
+is what she wore at a child’s party:—
+
+
+“I was dressed in my yellow coat, black bib &; apron, black feathers on
+my head, my past comb &; all my past garnet, marquesett &; jet pins,
+together with my silver plume—my loket, rings, black collar round my
+neck, black mitts &; yards of blue ribbin (black &; blue is high tast),
+striped tucker &; ruffels (not my best) &; my silk shoes completed my
+dress.”
+
+
+A few days later she writes:—
+
+
+“I wore my black bib &; apron, my pompedore shoes, the cap my Aunt
+Storer since presented me with (blue ribbins on it) &; a very handsome
+locket in the shape of a hart she gave me, the past Pin my Hon’d Papa
+presented me with in my cap. My new cloak &; bonnet, my pompedore
+gloves, &;c. And I would tell you that _for the first time they all on
+lik’d my dress very much_. My cloak &; bonnett are really very handsome
+&; so they had need be. For they cost an amasing sight of money, not
+quite £;45, tho’ Aunt Suky said that she suppos’d Aunt Deming would be
+frighted out of her Wits at the money it cost. I have got _one_
+covering by the cost that is genteel &; I like it much myself.”
+
+
+As this was in the times of depreciated values, £;45 was not so large a
+sum to expend for a girl’s outdoor garments as at first sight appears.
+
+She gives a very exact account of her successions of head-gear, some
+being borrowed finery. She apparently managed to rise entirely above
+the hated “black hatt” and red domino, which she patronizingly said
+would be “Decent for Common Occations.” She writes:—
+
+
+“Last Thursday I purchased with my aunt Deming’s leave a very beautiful
+white feather hat, that is the outside, which is a bit of white
+hollowed with the feathers sew’d on in a most curious manner; white and
+unsully’d as the falling snow. As I am, as we say, a Daughter of
+Liberty I chuse to were as much of our own manufactory as pocible....
+My Aunt says if I behave myself very well indeed, not else, she will
+give me a garland of flowers to orniment it, tho’ she has layd aside
+the biziness of flower-making.”
+
+
+The dress described and portrayed of these children all seems very
+mature; but children were quickly grown up in colonial days. Cotton
+Mather wrote, “New English youth are very sharp and early ripe in their
+capacities.” They married early; though none of the “child-marriages”
+of England disfigure the pages of our history. Sturdy Endicott would
+not permit the marriage of his ward, Rebecca Cooper, an
+“inheritrice,”—though Governor Winthrop wished her for his
+nephew,—because the girl was but fifteen. I am surprised at this, for
+marriages at fifteen were common enough. My far-away grandmother, Mary
+Burnet, married William Browne, when she was fourteen; another
+grandmother, Mary Philips, married her cousin at thirteen, and there is
+every evidence that the match was arranged with little heed of the
+girl’s wishes. It was the happiest of marriages. Boys became men by law
+when sixteen. Winthrop named his son as executor of his will when the
+boy was fourteen—but there were few boys like that boy. We find that
+the Virginia tutor who taught in the Carter family just previous to the
+war of the Revolution deemed a young lady of thirteen no longer a
+child.
+
+
+Miss Lydia Robinson, aged 12 Years Miss Lydia Robinson, aged 12 Years,
+Daughter of Colonel James Robinson. Marked “Corné pinxt, Sept. 1805.”
+
+
+“Miss Betsy Lee is about thirteen, a tall, slim, genteel girl. She is
+very far from Miss Hale’s taciturnity, yet is by no means disagreeably
+Forward. She dances extremely well, and is just beginning to play the
+Spinet. She is dressed in a neat Shell Callico Gown, has very light
+Hair done up with a Feather, and her whole carriage is Inoffensive,
+Easy and Graceful.”
+
+
+The christening of an infant was not only a sacrament of the church,
+and thus of highest importance, but it was also of secular note. It was
+a time of great rejoicing, of good wishes, of gift-making. In mediaeval
+times, the child was arrayed by the priest in a white robe which had
+been anointed with sacred oil, and called a chrismale, or a chrisom. If
+the child died within a month, it was buried in this robe and called a
+chrisom-child. The robe was also called a christening palm or pall.
+When the custom of redressing the child in a robe at the altar had
+passed away, the christening palm still was used and was thrown over
+the child when it was brought out to receive visitors. This robe was
+also termed a bearing-cloth, a christening sheet, and a cade-cloth.
+
+This fine coverlet of state, what we would now call a christening
+blanket, was usually made of silk; often it was richly embroidered,
+sometimes with a text of Scripture. It was generally lace-bordered, or
+edged with a narrow, home-woven silk fringe. The christening-blanket of
+Governor Bradford of the Plymouth Colony still is owned by a
+descendant; it is whole of fabric and unfaded of dye. It is rich
+crimson silk, soft of texture, like heavy sarcenet silk, and is
+powdered at regular distances about six inches apart with conventional
+sprays of flowers, embroidered chiefly in pink and yellow, in minute
+silk cross-stitch. Another beautiful silk christening blanket was
+quilted in an intricate flower pattern in almost imperceptible
+stitches. Another of yellow satin has a design in white floss that
+gives it the appearance of being trimmed with white silk lace. Best of
+all was to embroider the cloth with designs and initials and emblems
+and biblical references. A coat-of-arms or crest was very elegant. The
+words, “God Bless the Babe,” were not left wholly to the pincushions
+which every babe had given him or her, but appeared on the christening
+blanket. A curious design shown me was called _The Tree of Knowledge_.
+The figure of a child in cap, apron, bib, and hanging sleeves stands
+pointing to a tree upon which grew books as though they were apples.
+The open pages of each book-apple is printed with a title, as, _The New
+England Primer, Lilly’s Grammar, Janeway’s Holy Children, The Prodigal
+Daughter._
+
+An inventory of the christening garments of a child in the seventeenth
+century reads thus:—
+
+
+“1. A lined white figured satin cap.
+2. A lined white satin cap embroidered in sprays with gold coloured
+silk.
+3. A white satin palm embroidered in sprays of yellow silk to match.
+This is 44 inches by 34 inches in size.
+4. A palm of rich ‘still yellow’ silk lined with white satin. This is
+54 inches by 48 inches in size.
+5. A pair of deep cuffs of white satin, lace trimmed and embroidered.
+6. A pair of linen mittens trimmed with narrow lace, the back of the
+fingers outlined with yellow silk figures.”
+
+
+
+
+Knitted Flaxen Mittens. Knitted Flaxen Mittens.
+
+The satin cuffs were for the wear of the older person who carried the
+child. The infant was placed upon the larger palm or cloth, and the
+smaller one thrown over him, over his petticoats. The inner cap was
+very tight to the head. The outer was embroidered; often it turned back
+in a band.
+
+There was a significance in the use of yellow; it is the altar color
+for certain church festivals, and was proper for the pledging of the
+child.
+
+All these formalities of christening in the Church of England were not
+abandoned by the Separatists. New England children were just as
+carefully christened and dressed for christening as any child in the
+Church of England. In the reign of James I tiny shirts with little
+bands or sleeves or cuffs wrought in silk or in coventry-blue thread
+were added to the gift of spoons from the sponsors. I have one of these
+little coventry-blue embroidered things with quaint little sleeves; too
+faded, I regret, to reveal any pattern to the camera.
+
+The christening shirts and mittens given by the sponsors are said to be
+a relic of the ancient custom of presenting white clothes to the
+neophytes when converted to Christianity. These “Christening Sets” are
+preserved in many families.
+
+Of the dress of infants of colonial times we can judge from the
+articles of clothing which have been preserved till this day. These are
+of course the better garments worn by babies, not their everyday dress;
+their simpler attire has not survived, but their christening robes,
+their finer shirts and petticoats and caps remain.
+
+
+Mrs. Elizabeth Lux Russell and Daughter. Mrs. Elizabeth Lux Russell and
+Daughter.
+
+Linen formed the chilling substructure of their dress, thin linen,
+low-necked, short-sleeved shirts; and linen remained the underwear of
+infants until thirty years ago. I do not wonder that these little linen
+shirts were worn for centuries. They are infinitely daintier than the
+finest silk or woollen underwear that have succeeded them; they are
+edged with narrowest thread lace, and hemstitched with tiny rows of
+stitches or corded with tiny cords, and sometimes embroidered by hand
+in minute designs. They were worn by all babies from the time of James
+I, never varying one stitch in shape; but I fear this pretty garment of
+which our infants were bereft a few years ago will never crowd out the
+warm, present-day silk wear. This wholly infantile article of childish
+dress had tiny little revers or collarettes or laps made to turn over
+outside the robe or slip like a minute bib, and these laps were
+beautifully oversewn where the corners joined the shirt, to prevent
+tearing down at this seam. These tiny shirts were the dearest little
+garments ever made or dreamed of. When a baby had on a fresh, corded
+slip, low of neck, with short, puffed sleeve, and the tiny hemstitched
+laps were turned down outside the neck of the slip, and the little
+sleeves were caught up by fine strings of gold-clasped pink coral, the
+baby’s dimpled shoulders and round head rose up out of the little
+shirt-laps like some darling flower.
+
+I have seen an infant’s shirt and a cap embroidered on the laps with
+the coat-of-arms of the Lux and Johnson families and the motto, “God
+Bless the Babe;” these delicate garments, the work of fairies, were
+worn in infancy by the Revolutionary soldier, Governor Johnson of
+Virginia.
+
+In the Essex Institute in Salem, Massachusetts, are the baptismal shirt
+and mittens of the Pilgrim father, William Bradford, second governor of
+the Plymouth colony, who was born in 1590. They are shown here. All are
+of firm, close-woven, homespun linen, but the little mittens have been
+worn at the ends by the active friction of baby hands, and are patched
+with red and yellow figured “chiney” or calico. A similar colored
+material frills the sleeves and neck. This may have been part of their
+ornamentation when first made, but it looks extraneous.
+
+The sleeves of this shirt are plaited or goffered in a way that seems
+wholly lost; this is what I have already described—_pinching_. I have
+seen the sleeve of a child’s dress thus pinched which had been worn by
+a little girl aged three. The wrist-cuff measured about five inches
+around, and was stoutly corded. Upon ripping the sleeve apart, it was
+found that the strip of fine mull which was thus pinched into the
+sleeve was two yards in length. The cuff flared slightly, else even
+this length of sheer lawn could not have been confined at the wrist. In
+the so-called “Museum,” gloomily scattered around the famous old South
+Church edifice in Boston, are fine examples of this pinched work.
+
+
+Christening Shirt and Mitts of Governor Bradford. Christening Shirt and
+Mitts of Governor Bradford.
+
+Many of the finest existing specimens of old guipure, Flanders, and
+needlepoint laces in England and America are preserved on the ancient
+shirts, mitts, caps, and bearing-cloths of infants. Often there is a
+little padded bib of guipure lace accompanied with tiny mittens like
+these.
+
+
+Flanders Lace Mitts. Flanders Lace Mitts.
+
+This pair was wrought and worn in the sixteenth century, and the
+stitches and work are those of the Flanders point laces. I have seen
+tiny mitts knitted of silk, of fine linen thread, also made of linen,
+hem-stitched, or worked in drawn-work, or embroidered, and one pair of
+mittens, and the cap that matched was of tatting-work done in the
+finest of thread. No needlepoint could be more beautiful. Some are
+shown on here.
+
+Mitts of yellow nankeen or silk, made with long wrists or arms, were
+also worn by babies, and must have proved specially irritating to tiny
+little hands and arms. These had the seams sewed over and over with
+colored silks in a curiously intricate netted stitch.
+
+I have an infant’s cap with two squares of lace set in the crown, one
+over each ear. The lace is of a curious design; a conventionalized vase
+or urn on a standard. I recognize it as the lace and pattern known as
+“pot-lace,” made for centuries at Antwerp, and worn there by old women
+on their caps with a devotion to a single pattern that is unparalleled.
+It was the “flower-pot” symbol of the Annunciation. The earliest
+representation of the Angel Gabriel in the Annunciation showed him with
+lilies in his hand; then these lilies were set in a vase. In years the
+angel has disappeared and then the lilies, and the lily-pot only
+remains. It is a whimsical fancy that this symbol of Romanism should
+have been carefully transferred to adorn the pate of a child of the
+Puritans. The place of the medallion, set over each ear, is so unusual
+that I think it must have had some significance. I wonder whether they
+were ever set thus in caps of heavy silk or linen to let the child hear
+more readily, as he certainly would through the thin lace net.
+
+The word “beguine” meant a nun; and thus derivatively a nun’s close
+cap. This was altered in spelling to biggin, and for a time a nun’s
+plain linen cap was thus called. By Shakespere’s day biggin had become
+wholly a term for a child’s cap. It was a plain phrase and a plain cap
+of linen. Shakespere calls them “homely biggens.”
+
+I have seen it stated that the biggin was a night-cap. When Queen
+Elizabeth lost her mother, Anne Boleyn, she was but three years old, a
+neglected little creature. A lady of the court wrote that the child had
+“no manner of linen, nor for-smocks, nor kerchiefs, nor rails, nor
+body-stitches, nor handkerchiefs, nor sleeves, nor mufflers, nor
+biggins.”
+
+In 1636 Mary Dudley, the daughter of Governor John Winthrop, had a
+little baby. She did not live in Boston town, therefore her mother had
+to purchase supplies for her; and many letters crossed, telling of
+wants, and their relief. “Holland for biggins” was eagerly sought. At
+that date all babies wore caps. I mean English and French, Dutch and
+Spanish, all mothers deemed it unwise and almost improper for a young
+baby ever to be seen bare-headed. With the imperfect heating and many
+draughts in all the houses, this mode of dress may have been wholly
+wise and indeed necessary. Every child’s head was covered, as the
+pictures of children in this book show, until he or she was several
+years old. The finest needlework and lace stitches were lavished on
+these tiny infants’ caps, which were not, when thus adorned and
+ornamented, called biggins.
+
+
+Infant’s Adjustable Cap. Infant’s Adjustable Cap.
+
+A favorite trimming for night-caps and infants’ caps is a sort of
+quilting in a leaf and vine pattern, done with a white cord inserted
+between outer and inner pieces of linen—a cord stuffing, as it were. It
+does not seem oversuited for caps to be worn in bed or by little
+infants, as the stiff cords must prove a disagreeable cushion. This
+work was done as early as the seventeenth century; but nearly all the
+pieces preserved were made in the early years of the nineteenth century
+in the revival of needlework then so universal.
+
+Often a velvet cap was worn outside the biggin or lace cap.
+
+I have never seen a woollen petticoat that was worn by an infant of
+pre-Revolutionary days. I think infants had no woollen petticoats;
+their shirts, petticoats, and gowns were of linen or some cotton stuff
+like dimity. Warmth of clothing was given by tiny shawls pinned round
+the shoulders, and heavier blankets and quilts and shawls in which baby
+and petticoats were wholly enveloped.
+
+The baby dresses of olden times are either rather shapeless sacques
+drawn in at the neck with narrow cotton ferret or linen bobbin, or
+little straight-waisted gowns of state. All were exquisitely made by
+hand, and usually of fine stuff. Many are trimmed with fine cording.
+
+It is astounding to note the infinite number of stitches put in
+garments. An infant’s slips quilted with a single tiny backstitch in a
+regular design of interlaced squares, stars, and rounds. By counting
+the number of rounds and the stitches in each, and so on, it has been
+found that there are 397,000 stitches in that dress. Think of the time
+spent even by the quickest sewer over such a piece of work.
+
+Within a few years we have shortened the long clothes worn by youngest
+infants; twenty-five years ago the handsome dress of an infant, such as
+the christening-robe, was so long that when the child was held on the
+arm of its standing nurse or mother, the edge of the robe barely
+escaped touching the ground. Two hundred years ago, a baby’s dress was
+much shorter. In the family group of Charles I and Henrietta Maria and
+their children, in the Copley family picture, and in the picture of the
+Cadwalader family, we find the little baby in scarce “three-quarters
+length” of robe. With this exception it is astonishing to find how
+little infants’ dress has changed during the two centuries. In 1889, at
+the Stuart Exhibition, some of the infant dresses of Charles I were
+shown. They had been preserved in the family of Sir Thomas Coventry,
+Lord Keeper. And Charles II’s baby linen was on view in the New Gallery
+in 1901. Both sets had the dainty little shirts, slips, bibs, mitts,
+and all the babies’ dress of fifty years ago, and the changes since
+then have been few. The “barrow-coat,” a square of flannel wrapped
+around an infant’s body below the arms with the part below the feet
+turned up and pinned, was part of the old swaddling-clothes; and within
+ten years it has been largely abandoned for a flannel petticoat on a
+band or waist. The bands, or binders, have always been the same as
+to-day, and the bibs. The lace cuffs and lace mittens were left off
+before the caps. The shirt is the most important change.
+
+Nowadays a little infant wears long clothes till three, four, or even
+eight months old; then he is put in short dresses about as long as he
+is. In colonial days when a boy was taken from his swaddling-clothes,
+he was dressed in a short frock with petticoats and was “coated” or
+sometimes “short-coated.” When he left off coats, he donned breeches.
+In families of sentiment and affection, the “coating” of a boy was made
+a little festival. So was also the assumption of breeches an important
+event—as it really is, as we all know who have boys.
+
+One of the most charming of all grandmothers’ letters was written by a
+doting English grandmother to her son. Lord Chief Justice North,
+telling of the “leaving off of coats” of his motherless little son,
+Francis Guilford, then six years old. The letter is dated October 10,
+1679:—
+
+
+“DEAR SON:
+You cannot beleeve the great concerne that was in the whole family here
+last Wednesday, it being the day that the taylor was to helpe to dress
+little ffrank in his breeches in order to the making an everyday suit
+by it. Never had any bride that was to be drest upon her weding night
+more handes about her, some the legs, some the armes, the taylor
+butt’ning, and others putting on the sword, and so many lookers on that
+had I not a ffinger amongst I could not have seen him. When he was
+quite drest he acted his part as well as any of them for he desired he
+might goe downe to inquire for the little gentleman that was there the
+day before in a black coat, and speak to the man to tell the gentleman
+when he came from school that there was a gallant with very fine
+clothes and a sword to have waited upon him and would come again upon
+Sunday next. But this was not all, there was great contrivings while he
+was dressing who should have the first salute; but he sayd if old Joan
+had been here, she should, but he gave it to me to quiett them all.
+They were very fitt, everything, and he looks taller and prettyer than
+in his coats. Little Charles rejoyced as much as he did for he jumpt
+all the while about him and took notice of everything. I went to Bury,
+and bot everything for another suitt which will be finisht on Saturday
+so the coats are to be quite left off on Sunday. I consider it is not
+yett terme time and since you could not have the pleasure of the first
+sight, I resolved you should have a full relation from
+
+    “Yo’r most Aff’nate Mother
+
+    “A. North.
+
+“When he was drest he asked Buckle whether muffs were out of fashion
+because they had not sent him one.”
+
+
+This affectionate letter, written to a great and busy statesman, the
+Lord Keeper of the Seals, shows how pure and delightful domestic life
+in England could be; it shows how beautiful it was after Puritanism
+perfected the English home.
+
+In an old family letter dated 1780 I find this sentence:—
+
+
+“Mary is most wise with her child, and hath no new-fangledness. She has
+little David in what she wore herself, a pudding and pinner.”
+
+
+For a time these words “pudding and pinner” were a puzzle; and long
+after pinner was defined we could not even guess at a pudding. But now
+I know two uses of the word “pudding” which are in no dictionary. One
+is the stuffing of a man’s great neck-cloth in front, under the chin.
+The other is a thick roll or cushion stuffed with wool or some soft
+filling and furnished with strings. This pudding was tied round the
+head of a little child while it was learning to walk. The head was thus
+protected from serious bruises or injury. Nollekens noted with
+satisfaction such a pudding on the head of an infant, and said: “That
+is right. I always wore a pudding, and all children should.” I saw one
+upon a child’s head last summer in a New England town; I asked the
+mother what it was, and she answered, “A pudding-cap”; that it made
+children soft (idiotic) to bump the head frequently.
+
+The word “pinner” has two meanings. The earlier use was precisely that
+of pinafore, or pincurtle, or pincloth—a child’s apron. Thus we read in
+the Harvard College records, of the expenses of the year 1677, of
+“Linnen Cloth for Table Pinners,” which makes us suspect that Harvard
+students of that day had to wear bibs at commons.
+
+All children wore aprons, which might be called pinners; these were
+aprons with pinned-up bibs; or they might be tiers, which were sleeved
+aprons covering the whole waist, sleeves, and skirt, an outer slip,
+buttoned in the back.
+
+A severe and ancient moralist looked forth from her window in
+Worcester, one day last spring, at a band of New England children
+running to their morning school. She gazed over her glasses
+reprovingly, and turned to me with bitterness: “There they go! _Such_
+mothers as they must have! Not a pinner nor a sleeved tier among ’em.”
+
+The sleeved tier occupied a singular place in childish opinion in my
+youth; and I find the same feeling anent it had existed for many
+generations. It was hated by all children, regarded as something to be
+escaped from at the earliest possible date. You had to wear sleeved
+tiers as you had to have the mumps. It was a thing to endure with what
+childish patience and fortitude you could command for a short time; but
+thoughtful, tender parents would not make you suffer it long.
+
+There were aprons, and aprons. Pinners and tiers were for use, but
+there were elegant aprons for ornament. Did not Queen Anne wear one?
+Even babies wore them. The little Padishal child has one richly laced.
+I have seen a beautiful apron for a little child of three. It was edged
+with a straight insertion of Venetian point like that pictured here. It
+had been made in 1690. Tender affection for a beloved and beautiful
+little child preserved it in one trunk in the same attic for sixty-five
+years; and a beautiful sympathy for that mother’s long sorrow kept the
+apron untouched by young lace-lovers. This lace has white horsehair
+woven into the edge.
+
+We find George Washington ordering for his little stepdaughter (a
+well-dressed child if ever there was one), when she was six years old,
+“A fashionable cap or fillet with bib apron.” And a few years later he
+orders, “Tuckers, Bibs, and Aprons if Fashionable.” Boys wore aprons as
+long as they wore coats; aprons with stomachers or bibs of drawn-work
+and lace, or of stiffly starched lawn; aprons just like those of their
+sisters. It was hard to bear. Hoop-coat, masks, packthread stays—these
+seem strange dress for growing girls.
+
+George Washington sent abroad for masks for his wife and his little
+stepdaughter, “Miss Custis,” when the little girl was six years old;
+and “children’s masks” are often named in bills of sale. Loo-masks were
+small half-masks, and were also imported in all sizes.
+
+The face of Mrs. Madison, familiarly known as “Dolly Madison,” wife of
+President James Madison, long retained the beauty of youth. Much of
+this was surely due to a faithful mother, who, when little Dolly Payne
+was sent to school, sewed a sun-bonnet on the child’s head every
+morning, placed on her arms and hands long gloves, and made her wear a
+mask to keep every ray of sunlight from her face. When masks were so
+universally worn by women, it is not strange, after all, that children
+wore them.
+
+
+Rev. J.P. Dabney when a Child. Rev. J.P. Dabney when a Child.
+
+I read with horror an advertisement of John McQueen, a New York
+stay-maker in 1767, that he has children’s packthread stays, children’s
+bone stays, and “neat polished steel collars for young Misses so much
+worn at the boarding schools in London.” Poor little “young Misses”!
+
+There were also “turned stays, jumps, gazzets, costrells and caushets”
+(which were perhaps corsets) to make children appear straight.
+Costrells and gazzets we know not to-day. Jumps were feeble stays.
+
+
+“Now a shape in neat stays
+Now a slattern in jumps.”
+
+
+
+
+Robert Gibbes. Robert Gibbes.
+
+Jumps were allied to jimps, and perhaps to jupe; and I think jumper is
+a cousin of a word. One pair of stays I have seen is labelled as having
+been made for a boy of five. One of the worst instruments of torture I
+ever beheld was a pair of child’s stays worn in 1760. They were made,
+not of little strips of wood, but of a large piece of board, front and
+back, tightly sewed into a buckram jacket and reënforced across at
+right angles and diagonally over the hips (though really there were no
+hip-places) with bars of whalebone and steel. The tin corsets I have
+heard of would not have been half as ill to wear. It is true, too, that
+needles were placed in the front of the stays, that the stay-wearer who
+“poked her head” would be well pricked. The daughter of General
+Nathanael Greene, the Revolutionary patriot, told her grandchildren
+that she sat many hours every day in her girlhood, with her feet in
+stocks and strapped to a backboard. A friend has a chair of ordinary
+size, save that the seat is about four inches wide from the front edge
+of seat to the back. And the back is well worn at certain points where
+a heavy leather strap strapped up the young girl who was tortured in it
+for six years of her life. The result of back board, stocks, steel
+collar, wooden stays, is shown in such figures as have Dorothy Q. and
+her sister Elizabeth. Elizabeth Storer, on page 98 of my _Child Life in
+Colonial Days_, is an extreme example, straight-backed indeed, but
+narrow-chested to match.
+
+Dr. Holmes wrote in jest, but he wrote in truth, too:—
+
+
+“They braced My Aunt against a board
+      To make her straight and tall,
+ They laced her up, they starved her down,
+      To make her light and small.
+ They pinched her feet, they singed her hair,
+      They screwed it up with pins,
+ Oh, never mortal suffered more
+      In penance for her sins.”
+
+
+
+
+Nankeen Breeches with Silver Buttons. Nankeen Breeches with Silver
+Buttons.
+
+Nankeen was the favorite wear for boys, even before the Revolution. The
+little figure of the boy who became Lord Lyndhurst, shown in the Copley
+family portrait, is dressed in nankeen; he is the engaging, loving
+child looking up in his mother’s face. Nankeen was worn summer and
+winter by men, and women, and children. If it were deemed too thin and
+too damp a wear for delicate children in extreme winters, then a yellow
+color in wool was preferred for children’s dress. I have seen a little
+pair of breeches of yellow flannel made precisely like these nankeen
+breeches on this page. They were worn in 1768. Carlyle in his _Sartor
+Resartus_ gives this account of the childhood of the professor and
+philosopher of his book:—
+
+
+“My first short clothes were of yellow serge; or rather, I should say,
+my first short cloth; for the vesture was one and indivisible, reaching
+from neck to ankle; a single body with four limbs; of which fashion how
+little could I then divine the architectural, much less the moral
+significance.”
+
+
+
+
+Ralph Izard when a Little Boy. 1750. Ralph Izard when a Little Boy.
+1750.
+
+It is a curious coincidence that a great philosopher of our own world
+wore a precisely similar dress in his youth. Madam Mary Bradford writes
+in a private letter, at the age of one hundred and three, of her life
+in 1805 in the household of Rev. Joseph Emerson. Ralph Waldo Emerson
+was then a little child of two years, and he and his brother William
+till several years old were dressed wholly in yellow flannel, by night
+and by day. When they put on trousers, which was at about the age of
+seven, they wore complete home-made suits of nankeen. The picture
+amuses me of the philosophical child, Ralph Waldo, walking soberly
+around in ugly yellow flannel, contentedly sucking his thumb; for Mrs.
+Bradford records that he was the hardest child to break of sucking his
+thumb whom she ever had seen during her long life. I cannot help
+wondering whether in their soul-to-soul talks Emerson ever told Carlyle
+of the yellow woollen dress of his childhood, and thus gave him the
+thought of the child’s dress for his philosopher.
+
+Fortunately for the children who were our grandparents. French fashions
+were not absorbingly the rage in America until after some amelioration
+of dress had come to French children. Mercier wrote at length at the
+close of the eighteenth century of the abominable artificiality and
+restraint in dress of French children; their great wigs, full-skirted
+coats, immense ruffles, swords on thigh, and hat in hand. He contrasts
+them disparagingly with English boys. The English boy was certainly
+more robust, but I find no difference in dress. Wigs, swords, ruffles,
+may be seen at that time both in English and American portraits. But an
+amelioration of dress did come to both English and American boys
+through the introduction of pantaloons, and a change to little girls’
+dress through the invention of pantalets, but the changes came first to
+France, in spite of Mercier’s animadversions. These changes will be
+left until the later pages of this book; for during nearly all the two
+hundred years of which I write children’s dress varied little. It
+followed the changes of the parent’s dress, and adopted some modes to a
+degree but never to an extreme.
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+PERUKES AND PERIWIGS
+
+
+_“As to a Periwigg, my best and Greatest Friend begun to find me with
+Hair before I was Born, and has continued to do so ever since, and I
+could not find it in my Heart to go to another.”
+_
+—“Diary,” JUDGE SAMUEL SEWALL, 1718.
+
+
+_A phrensy or a periwigmanee
+That over-runs his pericranie._
+
+—JOHN BYRON, 1730 (circa).
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+PERUKES AND PERIWIGS
+
+
+T
+
+
+o-day, when every man, save a football player or some eccentric
+reformer or religious fanatic, displays in youth a close-cropped head,
+and when even hoary age is seldom graced with flowing, silvery locks,
+when women’s hair is dressed in simplicity, we can scarcely realize the
+important and formal part the hair played in the dress of the
+eighteenth century.
+
+In the great eagerness shown from earliest colonial days to acquire and
+reproduce in the New World every change of mode in the Old, to purchase
+rich dress, and to assume novel dress, no article was sought for more
+speedily and more anxiously than the wig. It has proved an interesting
+study to compare the introduction of wigs in England with the wear of
+the same form of head-gear in America. Wigs were not in general use in
+England when Plymouth and Boston were settled; though in Elizabeth’s
+day a “peryuke” had been bought for the court fool. They were not in
+universal wear till the close of the seventeenth century.
+
+The “Wig Mania” arose in France in the reign of Louis XV. In 1656 the
+king had forty court perruquiers, who were termed and deemed artists,
+and had their academy. The wigs they produced were superb. It is told
+that one cost £;200, a sum equal in purchasing power to-day to $5000.
+The French statesman and financier, Colbert, aghast at the vast sums
+spent for foreign hair, endeavored to introduce a sort of cap to
+supplant the wig, but fashions are not made that way.
+
+
+Governor and Reverend Gurdon Saltonstall. Governor and Reverend Gurdon
+Saltonstall.
+
+For information of English manners and customs in that day, I turn (and
+never in vain) to those fascinating volumes, the _Verney Memoirs_. From
+them I learn this of early wig-wearing by Englishmen; that Sir Ralph
+Verney, though in straitened circumstances during his enforced
+residence abroad, felt himself compelled to follow the French mode,
+which at that period, 1646, had not reached England. That exemplary
+gentleman paid twelve livres for a wig, when he was sadly short of
+money for household necessaries. It was an elaborate wig, curled in
+great rings, with two locks tied with black ribbon, and made without
+any parting at the back. This wig was powdered.
+
+Sir Ralph wrote to his wife that a good hair-powder was very difficult
+to get and costly, even in France. It was an appreciable addition to
+the weight of the wig and to the expense, large quantities being used,
+sometimes as much as two pounds at a time. It added not only to the
+expense, but to the discomfort, inconvenience, and untidiness of
+wig-wearing.
+
+Pomatum made of fat, and that sometimes rancid, was used to make the
+powder stick; and noxious substances were introduced into the powder,
+as a certain kind is mentioned which must not be used alone, for it
+would produce headache.
+
+Charles II was the earliest king represented on the Great Seal wearing
+a large periwig. Dr. Doran assures us that the king did not bring the
+fashion to Whitehall. “He forbade,” we are told, “the members of the
+Universities to wear periwigs, smoke tobacco, or read their sermons.
+The members did all three, and Charles soon found himself doing the
+first two.”
+
+
+Mayor Rip Van Dam. Mayor Rip Van Dam.
+
+Pepys’s _Diary_ contains much interesting information concerning the
+wigs of this reign. On 2d of November, 1663, he writes: “I heard the
+Duke say that he was going to wear a periwig, and says the King also
+will, never till this day observed that the King is mighty gray.” It
+was doubtless this change in the color of his Majesty’s hair that
+induced him to assume the head-dress he had previously so strongly
+condemned.
+
+The wig he adopted was very voluminous, richly curled, and black. He
+was very dark. “Odds fish! but I’m an ugly black fellow!” he said of
+himself when he looked at his portrait. Loyal colonists quickly
+followed royal example and complexion. We have very good specimens of
+this curly black wig in many American portraits.
+
+As might be expected, and as befitted one who delighted to be in
+fashion, Pepys adopted this wig. He took time to consider the matter,
+and had consultations with Mr. Jervas, his old barber, about the
+affair. Referring to one of his visits to his hairdresser, Pepys says:—
+
+
+“I did try two or three borders and periwigs, meaning to wear one, and
+yet I have no stomach for it; but that the pains of keeping my hair
+clean is great. He trimmed me, and at last I parted, but my mind was
+almost altered from my first purpose, from the trouble which I foresee
+in wearing them also.”
+
+
+Weeks passed before he could make up his mind to wear a wig. Mrs. Pepys
+was taken to the periwig-maker’s shop to see one, and expressed her
+satisfaction with it. We read in April, 1665, of the wig being back at
+Jervas’s under repair. Later, under date of September 3d, he writes:—
+
+
+“Lord’s day. Up; and put on my coloured silk suit, very fine, and my
+new periwig, bought a good while since, but durst not wear, because the
+plague was in Westminster when I bought it; and it is a wonder what
+will be in fashion, after the plague is done, as to periwigs, for
+nobody will dare to buy any hair, for fear of the infection, that it
+had been cut off the heads of people dead of the plague.”
+
+
+In 1670, only, five years after this entry of Pepys, we find Governor
+Barefoot of New Hampshire wearing a periwig; and in 1675 the court of
+Massachusetts, in view of the distresses of the Indian wars, denounced
+the “manifest pride openly appearing amongst us in that long hair, like
+women’s hair is worn by some men, either their own hair, or others’
+hair made into periwigs.”
+
+
+Abraham De Peyster. Abraham De Peyster.
+
+In 1676 Wait Winthrop sent a wig (price £;3) to his brother in New
+London. Mr. Sergeant had brought it from England for his own use; but
+was willing to sell it to oblige a friend, who was, I am confident,
+very devoted to wig-wearing. The largest wig that I recall upon any
+colonist’s head is in the portrait of Governor Fitz-John Winthrop. He
+is painted in armor; and a great wig never seems so absurd as when worn
+with armor. Horace Walpole said, “Perukes of outrageous length flowing
+over suits of armour compose wonderful habits.” An edge of Winthrop’s
+own dark hair seems to show under the wig front. I do not know the
+precise date of this portrait. It was, of course, painted in England.
+He served in the Parliamentary army with General Monck; returned to New
+England in 1663, and was commander of the New England forces. He spent
+1693 to l697 in England as commissioner. Sir Peter Lely and Sir Godfrey
+Kneller both were painting in England in those years, and both were
+constant in painting men with armor and perukes. This portrait seems
+like Kneller’s work.
+
+
+Governor De Bienville. Governor De Bienville.
+
+Another portrait attired also in armor and peruke is of Sir Nathaniel
+Johnson, who was appointed governor of South Carolina by the Lords
+Proprietors in 1702. The portrait was painted in 1705. It is one of the
+few of that date which show a faint mustache; he likewise wears a seal
+ring with coat-of-arms on the little finger of his left hand, which was
+unusual at that day. De Bienville, the governor of Louisiana, is
+likewise in wig and armor. In 1682 Thomas Richbell died in Boston,
+leaving a very rich and costly wardrobe. He had eight wigs. Of these,
+three were small periwigs worth but a pound apiece. In New York, in
+Virginia, in all the colonies, these wigs were worn, and were just as
+large and costly, as elaborately curled, as heavily powdered, as at the
+English and French courts.
+
+Archbishop Tillotson is usually regarded as the first amongst the
+English clergy to adopt the wig. He said in one of his sermons:—
+
+
+“I can remember since the wearing of hair below the ears was looked
+upon as a sin of the first magnitude, and when ministers generally,
+whatever their text was, did either find or make occasion to reprove
+the great sin of long hair; and if they saw any one in the congregation
+guilty in that kind, they would point him out particularly, and let fly
+at him with great zeal.”
+
+
+Dr. Tillotson died on November 24, 1694.
+
+
+Daniel Waldo. Daniel Waldo.
+
+Long before that American preachers had felt it necessary to “let fly”
+also; to denounce wig-wearing from their pulpits. The question could
+not be settled, since the ministers themselves could not agree. John
+Wilson, the zealous Boston minister, wore one, and John Cotton (see
+here); while Rev. Mr. Noyes preached long and often against the
+fashion. John Eliot, the noble preacher and missionary to the Indians,
+found time even in the midst of his arduous and incessant duties to
+deliver many a blast against “prolix locks,”—“with boiling zeal,” as
+Cotton Mather said,—and he labelled them a “luxurious feminine
+protexity”; but lamented late in life that “the lust for wigs is become
+insuperable.” He thought the horrors in King Philip’s War were a direct
+punishment from God for wig-wearing. Increase Mather preached warmly
+against wigs, calling them “Horrid Bushes of Vanity,” and saying that
+“such Apparel is contrary to the light of Nature, and to express
+Scripture,” and that “Monstrous Periwigs such as some of our church
+members indulge in make them resemble ye locusts that came out of ye
+Bottomless Pit.”
+
+Rev. George Weeks preached a sermon on impropriety in clothes. He said
+in regard to wig-wearing:—
+
+
+“We have no warrant in the word of God, that I know of, for our wearing
+of Periwigs except it be in extraordinary cases. Elisha did not cover
+his head with a Perriwigg altho’ it was bald. To see the greater part
+of Men in some congregations wearing Perriwiggs is a matter of deep
+lamentation. For either all these men had a necessity to cut off their
+Hair or else not. If they had a necessity to cut off their Hair then we
+have reason to take up a lamentation over the sin of our first Parents
+which hath occasioned so many Persons in our Congregation to be sickly,
+weakly, crazy Persons.”
+
+
+Long “Ruffianly” or “Russianly” (I know not which word is right) hair
+equally worried the parsons. President Chauncey of Harvard College
+preached upon it, for the college undergraduates were vexingly addicted
+to prolix locks. Rev. Mr. Wigglesworth’s sermon on the subject has
+often been reprinted, and is full of logical arguments. This offence
+was named on the list of existing evils which was made by the general
+court: that “the men wore long hair like women’s hair.” Still, the
+Puritan magistrates, omnipotent as they were in small things, did riot
+dare to force the becurled citizens of the little towns to cut their
+long love-locks, though they bribed them to do so. A Salem man was, in
+1687, fined l0s. for a misdemeanor, but “in case he shall cutt off his
+long har of his head into a sevill (civil?) frame, in the mean time
+shall have abated 5s. of his fine.” John Eliot hated long, natural hair
+as well as false hair. Rev. Cotton Mather said of him, in a very
+unpleasant figure of speech, “The hair of them that professed religion
+grew too long for him to swallow.” His own hair curled on his
+shoulders, and would seem long to us to-day.
+
+
+Reverend John Marsh. Reverend John Marsh.
+
+A climax of wig-hating was reached by one who has been styled “The Last
+of the Puritans”—Judge Samuel Sewall of Boston. Constant references in
+his diary show how this hatred influenced his daily life. He despised
+wigs so long and so deeply, he thought and talked and prayed upon them,
+until they became to him of undue importance; they became godless
+emblems of iniquity; an unutterable snare and peril.
+
+We find Sewall copying with evident approval a “scandalous bill” which
+had been “posted” on the church in Plymouth in 1701. In this a few
+lines ran:—
+
+
+ “Our churches are too genteel.
+Parsons grow trim and trigg
+With wealth, wine, and wigg,
+   And their crowns are covered with meal.”
+
+
+
+
+John Adams in Youth. John Adams in Youth.
+
+Bitter must have been his efforts to reconcile to his conscience the
+sight of wigs upon the heads of his parson friends, worn boldly in the
+pulpit. He would refrain from attending a church where the parson wore
+a wig; and his italicized praise of a dead friend was that he “was a
+true New-English man and _abominated periwigs_.” A Boston wig-maker
+died a drunkard, and Sewall took much melancholy satisfaction in
+dilating upon it.
+
+Cotton Mather and Sewall had many pious differences and personal
+jealousies. The parson was a handsome man (see his picture here), and
+he was a harmlessly and naively vain man. He quickly adopted a “great
+bush of vanity”—and a very personable appearance he makes in it. Soon
+we find him inveighing at length in the pulpit against “those who
+strain at a gnat and swallow a camel, those who were zealous against an
+innocent fashion taken up and used by the best of men.” “’Tis supposed
+he means wearing a Perriwigg,” writes Sewall after this sermon; “I
+expected not to hear a vindication of Perriwiggs in Boston pulpit by
+Mr. Mather.”
+
+Poor Sewall! his regard of wigs had a severe test when he wooed Madam
+Winthrop late in life. She was a rich widow. He had courted her vainly
+for a second wife. And now he “yearned for her deeply” for a third
+wife, so he wrote. And ere she would consent or even discuss marriage
+she stipulated two things: one, that he keep a coach; the other, that
+he wear a periwig. When all the men of dignity and office in the colony
+were bourgeoning out in great flowing perukes, she was naturally a bit
+averse to an elderly lover in a skullcap or, as he often wore, a hood.
+His love did not make him waver; he stoutly persisted in his refusal to
+assume a periwig.
+
+His portrait in a velvet skullcap shows a fringe of white curling hair
+with a few forehead locks. I fancy he was bald. Here is his entry with
+regard to young Parson Willard’s wig, in the year 1701:—
+
+
+“Having last night heard that Josiah Willard had cut off his hair (a
+very full head of hair) and put on a wig, I went to him this morning.
+When I told his mother what I came about, she called him. Whereupon I
+inquired of him what extreme need had forced him to put off his own
+hair and put on a wig? He answered, none at all; he said that his hair
+was straight, and that it parted behind.
+
+“He seemed to argue that men might as well shave their hair off their
+head, as off their face. I answered that boys grew to be men before
+they had hair on their faces, and that half of mankind never have any
+beards. I told him that God seems to have created our hair as a test,
+to see whether we can bring our minds to be content at what he gives
+us, or whether wewould be our own carvers and come back to him for
+nothing more. We might dislike our skin or nails, as he disliked his
+hair; but in our case no thanks are due to us that we cut them not off;
+for pain and danger restrain us. Your duty, said I, is to teach men
+self-denial. I told him, further, that it would be displeasing and
+burdensome to good men for him to wear a wig, and they that care not
+what men think of them, care not what God thinks of them.
+
+“I told him that he must remember that wigs were condemned by a meeting
+of ministers at Northampton. I told him of the solemnity of the
+covenant which he and I had lately entered into, which put upon me the
+duty of discoursing to him.
+
+“He seemed to say that he would leave off his wig when his hair was
+grown again. I spoke to his father of it a day or two afterwards and he
+thanked me for reasoning with his son.
+
+“He told me his son had promised to leave off his wig when his hair was
+grown to cover his ears. If the father had known of it, he would have
+forbidden him to cut off his hair. His mother heard him talk of it, but
+was afraid to forbid him for fear he should do it in spite of her, and
+so be more faulty than if she had let him go his own way.”
+
+
+
+
+Jonathan Edwards, 2nd. Jonathan Edwards, 2nd.
+
+Soon nearly every parson in England and every colony wore wigs. John
+Wesley alone wore what seems to be his own white hair curled under
+softly at the ends. Whitfield is in a portentous wig like the one on
+Dr. Marsh (here).
+
+In the time of Queen Anne, wigs had multiplied vastly in variety as
+they had increased in size. I have been asked the difference between a
+peruke and a wig. Of course both, and the periwig, are simply wigs; but
+the term “peruke” is in general applied to a formal, richly curled wig;
+and the word “periwig” also conveys the distinction of a formal wig. Of
+less dignity were riding-wigs, nightcap wigs, and bag-wigs. Bag-wigs
+are said to have had their origin among French servants, who tied up
+their hair in a black leather bag as a speedy way of dressing it, and
+to keep it out of the way when at other and disordering duties.
+
+
+Patrick Henry. Patrick Henry.
+
+In May, 1706, the English, led by Marlborough, gained a great victory
+on the battle-field of Ramillies, and that gave the title to a new wig
+described as “having a long, gradually diminishing, plaited tail,
+called the ‘Ramillie-tail,’ which was tied with a great bow at the top
+and a smaller one at the bottom.” The hair also bushed out at both
+sides of the face. The Ramillies wig shown in Hogarth’s _Modern
+Midnight Conversation_ hanging against the wall, is reproduced here.
+This wig was not at first deemed full-dress. Queen Anne was deeply
+offended because Lord Bolingbroke, summoned hurriedly to her, appeared
+in a Ramillies wig instead of a full-bottomed peruke. The queen
+remarked that she supposed next time Lord Bolingbroke would come in his
+nightcap. It was the same offending nobleman who brought in the fashion
+of the mean little tie-wigs.
+
+It is stated in Read’s _Weekly Journal_ of May 1, 1736, in an account
+of the marriage of the Prince of Wales, that the officers of the Horse
+and Foot Guards wore Ramillies periwigs when on parade, by his
+Majesty’s order. We meet in the reign of George II other forms of wigs
+and other titles; the most popular was the pigtail wig. The pigtail of
+this was worn hanging down the back or tied up in a knot behind. This
+pigtail wig, worn for so many years, is shown here. It was popular in
+the army for sixty years, but in 1804 orders were given for the pigtail
+to be reduced to seven inches in length, and finally, in 1808, to be
+cut off wholly, to the deep mourning of disciplinarians who deemed a
+soldier without a pigtail as hopeless as a Manx cat.
+
+
+“King” Carter. Died 1732. “King” Carter. Died 1732.
+
+Bob-wigs, minor and major, came in during the reign of George II. The
+bob-wig was held to be a direct imitation of the natural hair, though,
+of course, it deceived no one; it was used chiefly by poorer folk. The
+’prentice minor bob was close and short, the citizen’s bob major, or
+Sunday buckle, had several rows of curls. All these came to America by
+the hundreds—yes, by the thousands. Every profession and almost every
+calling had its peculiar wig. The caricatures of the period represent
+full-fledged lawyers with a towering frontlet and a long bag at the
+back tied in the middle; while students of the university have a wig
+flat on the top, to accommodate their stiff, square-cornered hats, and
+a great bag like a lawyer’s wig at the back.
+
+
+Judge Benjamin Lynde. Judge Benjamin Lynde.
+
+“When the law lays down its full-bottom’d periwig you will find less
+wisdom in bald pates than you are aware of,” says the _Choleric Man_.
+This lawyer’s wig is the only one which has not been changed or
+abandoned. You may see it here, on the head of Judge Benjamin Lynde of
+Salem. He died in 1745. Carlyle sneers:—
+
+
+“Has not your Red hanging-individual a horsehair wig, squirrel-skins,
+and a plush-gown—whereby all Mortals know that he is a JUDGE?”
+
+
+In the reigns of Anne and William and Mary perukes grew so vast and
+cumbersome that a wig was invented for travelling and for undress wear,
+and was called the “Campaign wig.” It would not seem very simple since
+it was made full and curled to the front, and had, so writes a
+contemporary, Randle Holme, in his _Academy of Armory_, 1684, “knots
+and bobs a-dildo on each side and a curled forehead.”
+
+A campaign wig from Holme’s drawing is shown here.
+
+There are constant references in old letters and in early literature in
+America which alter much the dates assigned by English authorities on
+costume: thus, knowing not of Randle Holme’s drawing, Sydney writes
+that the name “campaign” was applied to a wig, the name and fashion of
+which came to England from France in 1702. In the Letter-book of
+William Byrd of Westover, Virginia, in a letter written in June, 1690,
+to Perry and Lane, his English factors in London, he says, “I have by
+Tonner sent my long Periwig which I desire you to get made into a
+Campagne and send mee.” This was twelve years earlier than Sydney’s
+date. Fitz-John Winthrop wrote to England in 1695 for “two wiggs one a
+campane the other short.” The portrait of Fitz-John Winthrop shows a
+prodigious imposing wig, but it has no “knots or bobs a-dildo on each
+side,” though the forehead is curled; it is a fine example of a peruke.
+
+I cannot attempt even to name all the wigs, much less can I describe
+them; Hawthorne gave “the tie,” the “Brigadier,” the “Major,” the
+“Ramillies,” the grave “Full-bottom,” the giddy “Feather-top.” To these
+and others already named in this chapter I can add the “Neck-lock,” the
+“Allonge,” the “Lavant,” the “Vallancy,” the “Grecian fly wig,” the
+“Beau-peruke,” the “Long-tail,” the “Fox-tail,” the “Cut-wig,” the
+“Scratch,” the “Twist-wig.”
+
+Others named in 1753 in the _London Magazine_ were the “Royal bird,”
+the “Rhinoceros,” the “Corded Wolf’s-paw,” “Count Saxe’s mode,” the
+“She-dragon,” the “Jansenist,” the “Wild-boar’s-back,” the
+“Snail-back,” the “Spinach-seed.” These titles were literal
+translations of French wig-names.
+
+Another wig-name was the “Gregorian.” We read in _The Honest Ghost_,
+1658, “Pulling a little down his Gregorian, which was displac’t a
+little by his hastie taking off his beaver.” This wig was named from
+the inventor, one Gregory, “the famous peruke-maker who is buryed at
+St. Clements Danes Church.” In Cotgrave’s _Dictionary_ perukes are
+called Gregorians.
+
+
+John Rutledge. John Rutledge.
+
+In the prologue to _Haut Ton_, written by George Colman, these wigs are
+named:—
+
+
+“The Tyburn scratch, thick Club and Temple tyes,
+The Parson’s Feather-top, frizzed, broad and high.
+The coachman’s Cauliflower, built tier on tier.”
+
+
+There was also the “Minister’s bob,” “Curley roys,” “Airy levants,” and
+“I—perukes.” The “Dalmahoy” was a bushy bob-wig.
+
+When Colonel John Carter died, he left to his brother Robert his cane,
+sword, and periwig. I believe this to be the very Valiancy periwig
+which, in all its snowy whiteness and air of extreme fashion, graces
+the head of the handsome young fellow as he is shown here. Even the
+portrait shares the fascination which the man is said to have had for
+every woman. I have a copy of it now standing on my desk, where I can
+glance at him as I write; and pleasant company have I found the gay
+young Virginian—the best of company. It is good to have a companion so
+handsome of feature, so personable of figure, so laughing, care free,
+and debonair—isn’t it, King Robert?
+
+
+Campaign, Ramillies, Bob, and Pigtail Wigs. Campaign, Ramillies, Bob,
+and Pigtail Wigs.
+
+These snowy wigs at a later date were called Adonis wigs.
+
+The cost of a handsome wig would sometimes amount to thirty, forty, and
+fifty guineas, though Swift grumbled at paying three guineas, and the
+exceedingly correct Mr. Pepys bought wigs at two and three pounds. It
+is not strange that they were often stolen. Gay, in his _Trivia_, thus
+tells the manner of their disappearance:—
+
+
+“Nor is the flaxen wig with safety worn;
+ High on the shoulder, in a basket borne,
+ Lurks the sly boy, whose hand to rapine bred,
+ Plucks off the curling honors of the head.”
+
+
+In America wigs were deemed rich spoils for the sneak-thief.
+
+There was a vast trade in second-hand wigs. ’Tis said there was in
+Rosemary Lane in London a constantly replenished “Wig lottery.” It was,
+rather, a wig grab-bag. The wreck of gentility paid his last sixpence
+for appearances, dipped a long arm into a hole in a cask, and fished
+out his wig. It might be half-decent, or it might be fit only to polish
+shoes—worse yet, it might have been used already for that purpose. The
+lowest depths of everything were found in London. I doubt if we had any
+Rosemary Lane wig lotteries in New York, or Philadelphia, or Boston.
+
+
+Rev. William Welsteed. Rev. William Welsteed.
+
+An answer to a query in a modern newspaper gives the word “caxon” as
+descriptive of a dress-wig. It was in truth a term for a wig, but it
+was a cant term, a slang phrase for the worst possible wig; thus
+Charles Lamb Wrote:—
+
+
+“He had two wigs both pedantic but of different omen. The one serene,
+smiling, fresh-powdered, betokening a mild day. The other an old
+discoloured, unkempt, angry caxon denoting frequent and bloody
+execution.”
+
+
+All these wigs, even the bob-wig, were openly artificial. The manner of
+their make, their bindings, their fastening, as well as their material,
+completely destroyed any illusion which could possibly have been
+entertained as to their being a luxuriant crop of natural hair.
+
+No one was ashamed of wearing a wig. On the contrary, a person with any
+sense of dignity was ashamed of being so unfashionable as to wear his
+own hair. It was a glorious time for those to whom Nature had been
+niggardly. A wig was as frankly extraneous as a hat. No attempt was
+made to imitate the roots of the hairs, or the parting. The hair was
+attached openly, and bound with a high-colored, narrow ribbon. Here is
+an advertisement from the _Boston News Letter_ of August 14, 1729:—
+
+
+“Taken from the shop of Powers Mariott, Barber, a light Flaxen Natural
+Wigg parted from the forehead to the Crown. The Narrow Ribband is of a
+Red Pink Color, the Caul is in rows of Red, Green and White Ribband.”
+
+
+Another “peruke-maker” lost a Flaxen “Natural” wig bound with
+peach-colored ribbon; while in 1755 Barber Coes, of Marblehead, lost
+“feather-tops” bound with various ribbons. Some had three colors on one
+wig—pink, green and purple. A goat’s-hair wig bound with red and
+purple, with green ribbons striping the caul, must have been a pretty
+and dignified thing on an old gentleman’s head. One of the most curious
+materials for a wig was fine wire, of which Wortley Montague’s wig was
+made.
+
+
+Thomas Hopkinson. Thomas Hopkinson.
+
+We read in many histories of costume, among them Miss Hill’s recent
+history of English dress, that Quakers did not wear wigs. This is
+widely incorrect. Many Quakers wore most fashionably made wigs. William
+Penn wrote from England to his steward, telling him to allow Deputy
+Governor Lloyd to wear his (Penn’s) wigs. I suppose he wished his
+deputy to cut a good figure.
+
+From the _New York Gazette_ of May 9, 1737, we learn of a thief’s
+stealing “one gray Hair Wig, not the worse for wearing, one Pale Hair
+Wig, not worn five times, marked V. S. E., one brown Natural wig, One
+old wig of goat’s hair put in buckle.” Buckle meant to curl, and
+derivatively a wig was in buckle when it was rolled for curling.
+Roulettes or bilbouquettes for buckling a wig were little rollers of
+pipe clay. The hair was twisted up in them, and papers bound over them
+to fix them in place. The roulettes could be put in buckle hot, or they
+could be rolled cold and the whole wig heated. The latter was not
+favored; it damaged the wig. Moreover, a careless barber had often
+roasted a forgotten wig which he had put in buckle and in an oven.
+
+The _New York Gazette_ of May 12, 1750, had this alluring
+advertisement:—
+
+
+“This is to acquaint the Public, that there is lately arrived from
+London the Wonder of the World, _an Honest_ Barber and Peruke Maker,
+who might have worked for the King, if his Majesty would have employed
+him: It was not for the want of Money he came here, for he had enough
+of that at Home, nor for the want of Business, that he advertises
+himself, BUT to acquaint the Gentlemen and Ladies, that _Such a Person
+is now in Town_, living near _Rosemary Lane_ where Gentlemen and Ladies
+may be supplied with Goods as follows, viz.: Tyes, Full-Bottoms,
+Majors, Spencers, Fox-Tails, Ramalies, Tacks, cut and bob Perukes: Also
+Ladies Tatematongues and Towers after the Manner that is now wore at
+Court. _By their Humble and Obedient Servant_,
+
+“JOHN STILL.”
+
+
+
+
+Reverend Dr. Barnard. Reverend Dr. Barnard.
+
+“Perukes,” says Malcolm, in his _Manners and Customs_, “were an highly
+important article in 1734.” Those of right gray human hair were four
+guineas each; light grizzle ties, three guineas; and other colors in
+proportion, to twenty-five shillings. Right gray human hair cue
+perukes, from two guineas to fifteen shillings each, was the price of
+dark ones; and right gray bob perukes, two guineas and a half to
+fifteen shillings, the price of dark bobs. Those mixed with horsehair
+were much lower.
+
+Prices were a bit higher in America. It was held that better wigs were
+made in England than in America or France; so the letter-books and
+agent’s-lists of American merchants are filled with orders for English
+wigs.
+
+Imperative orders for the earliest and extremest new fashions stood
+from year to year on the lists of fashionable London wig-makers; and
+these constant orders came from Virginia gentlemen and Massachusetts
+magistrates,—not a few, too, from the parsons,—scantly paid as they
+were. The smaller bob-wigs and tie-wigs were precisely the same in both
+countries, and I am sure were no later in assumption in America than
+was necessitated by the weeks occupied in coming across seas.
+
+Throughout the seventeenth century all classes of men in American towns
+wore wigs. Negro slaves flaunted white horsehair wigs, goat’s-hair
+bob-wigs, natural wigs, all the plainer wigs, and all the more costly
+sorts when these were half worn and secondhand. Soldiers wore wigs; and
+in the _Massachusetts Gazette_ of the year 1774 a runaway negro is
+described as wearing a curl of hair tied around his head to imitate a
+scratch wig; with his woolly crown this dangling curl must have been
+the height of absurdity.
+
+It is not surprising to find in the formal life of the English court
+the poor little tormented, sickly, sad child of Queen Anne wearing,
+before he was seven years old, a large full-bottomed wig; but it is
+curious to see the portraits of American children rigged up in wigs (I
+have half a dozen such), and to find likewise an American gentleman
+(and not one of wealth either) paying £;9 apiece for wigs for three
+little sons of seven, nine, and eleven years of age. This lavish parent
+was Enoch Freeman, who lived in Portland, Maine, in 1754.
+
+Wigs were objects of much and constant solicitude and care; their
+dressing was costly, and they wore out readily. Barbers cared for them
+by the month or year, visiting from house to house. Ten pounds a year
+was not a large sum to be paid for the care of a single wig. Men of
+dignity and careful dress had barbers’ bills of large amount, such men
+as Governor John Hancock, Governor Hutchinson, and Governor Belcher. On
+Saturday afternoons the barbers’ boys were seen flying through the
+narrow streets, wig-box in hand, hurrying to deliver all the dressed
+wigs ere sunset came.
+
+No doubt the constant wearing of such hot, heavy head-covering made the
+hair thin and the head bald; thus wigs became a necessity. Men had
+their heads very closely covered of old, and caught cold at a breath.
+Pepys took cold throwing off his hat while at dinner. If the wig were
+removed even within doors a close cap or hood at once took its place,
+or, as I tell elsewhere, a turban of some rich stuff. In America, in
+the Southern states, where people were poor and plantations scattered,
+all men did not wear wigs. A writer in the _London Magazine_ in 1745
+tells of this country carelessness of dress. He says that except some
+of the “very Elevated Sort” few wore perukes; so that at first sight
+“all looked as if about to go to bed,” for all wore caps. Common people
+wore woollen caps; richer ones donned caps of white cotton or Holland
+linen. These were worn even when riding fifty miles from home. He adds,
+“It may be cooler for aught I know; but methinks ’tis very ridiculous.”
+So wonted were his eyes to perukes, that his only thought of caps was
+that they were “ridiculous.” Nevertheless, when a shipload of servants,
+bond-servants who might be stolen when in drink, or lured under false
+pretences, might be convicts, or honest workmen,—when these transports
+were set up in respectability,—scores of new wigs of varying degrees of
+dignity came across seas with them. Many an old caxon or “gossoon”—a
+wig worn yellow with age—ended its days on the pate of a redemptioner,
+who thereby acquired dignity and was more likely to be bought as a
+schoolmaster. Truly our ancestors were not squeamish, and it is well
+they were not, else they would have squeamed from morning till night at
+the sights, and sounds, and things, and dirt around them. But these be
+parlous words; they had the senses and feelings of their day—suited to
+the surroundings of their day. In one thing they can be envied. Knowing
+not of germs and microbes, dreaming not of antiseptics and fumigation,
+they could be happy in blissful unconsciousness of menacing
+environment—a blessing wholly denied to us.
+
+
+Andrew Ellicott. Andrew Ellicott.
+
+When James Murray came from Scotland in 1735 he went up the Cape Fear
+River in North Carolina to the struggling settlements of Brunswick. The
+stock of wigs which he brought as one of the commodities of his trade
+had absolutely no market. In 1751 he wrote thus to his London
+wig-maker:—
+
+
+“We deal so much in caps in this country that we are almost as careless
+of the outside as of the inside of our heads. I have had but one wig
+since the last I had of you, and yours has outworn it. Now I am near
+out, and you may make me a new grisel Bob.”
+
+
+Nevertheless, in 1769, when he was roughly handled in Boston on account
+of his Tory utterances, his head, though he was but fifty-six, was bald
+from wig-wearing. His spirited recital runs thus:—
+
+
+“The crowd intending sport, remained. As I was pressing out, my Wig was
+pulled off and a pate shaved by Time and the barber was left exposed.
+This was thought a signal and prelude to further insult; which would
+probably have taken place but for hindering the cause. Going along in
+this plight, surrounded by the crowd, in the dark, a friend hold of
+either arm supporting me, while somebody behind kept nibbling at my
+sides and endeavouring of treading the reforming justice out of me by
+the multitude. My wig dishevelled, was borne on a staff behind. My
+friends and supporters offered to house me, but I insisted on going
+home in the present trim, and was landed in safety.”
+
+
+Patriotic Boston barbers found much satisfaction in ill treating the
+wigs of their Tory customers and patrons. William Pyncheon, a Salem
+Tory, wrote a few years later:—
+
+
+“The tailors and barbers, in their squinting and fleering at our
+clothes, and especially our wiggs, begin to border on malevolence. Had
+not the caul of my wigg been of uncommon stuff and workmanship, I think
+my barber would have had it in pieces: his dressing it greatly
+resembles the farmer dressing his flax, the latter of the two being the
+gentlest in his motions.”
+
+
+Worcester Tories, among them Timothy Paine, had their wigs pulled off
+in public. Mr. Paine at once gave his dishonored wig to one of his
+negro slaves, and never after resumed wig-wearing.
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE BEARD
+
+
+_“Though yours be sorely lugged and torn
+It does your Visage more adorn
+Than if ’twere prun’d, and starch’d, and launder’d
+And cut square by the Russian standard.”_
+
+—“Hudibras,” SAMUEL BUTLER.
+
+
+_“Now of beards there be such company
+And fashions such a throng
+That it is very hard to handle a beard
+Tho’ it be never so long.
+
+“’Tis a pretty sight and a grave delight
+That adorns both young and old
+A well thatch’t face is a comely grace
+And a shelter from the cold”_
+
+—“Le Prince d’Amour,” 1660.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE BEARD
+
+
+M
+
+
+en’s hair on their heads hath ever been at odds with that on their
+face. If the head were well covered and the hair long, then the face
+was smooth shaven. William the Conqueror had short hair and a beard,
+then came a long-haired king, then a cropped one; Edward IV’s subjects
+had long hair and closely cut beards. Henry VII fiercely forbade
+beards. The great sovereign Henry VIII ordered short hair like the
+French, and wore a beard. Through Elizabeth’s day and that of James the
+beard continued. Not until great perukes overshadowed the whole face
+did the beard disappear. It vanished for a century as if men were
+beardless; but after men began to wear short hair in the early years of
+the nineteenth century, bearded men appeared. A few German mystics who
+had come to America full-bearded were stared at like the elephant, and
+a sight of them was recorded in a diary as a great event.
+
+There is no doubt that, to the general reader, the ordinary thought of
+the Puritan is with a beard, a face and figure much like the Hogarth
+illustrations of Hudibras—one of the “Presbyterian true Blue,” “the
+stubborn crew of Errant Saints,”—without the grotesquery of face and
+feature, perhaps, but certainly with all the plainness and
+gracelessness of dress and the commonplace beard. The wording of
+Hudibras also figures the popular conception:—
+
+
+“His tawny Beard was th’ equal Grace
+Both of his Wisdom and his Face:
+       *       *       *       *       *
+“His Doublet was of sturdy Buff
+And tho’ not Sword, was Cudgel-Proof.
+His Breeches were of rugged Woolen
+And had been at the Siege of Bullen.”
+
+
+
+
+Herbert Westphaling, Bishop of Hereford. Herbert Westphaling, Bishop of
+Hereford.
+
+In truth this is well enough as far as it runs and for one suit of
+clothing; but this was by no means a universal dress, nor was it a
+universal beard. Indeed beards were fearfully and wonderfully varied.
+
+That humorous old rhymester, Taylor, the “Water Poet,” may be quoted at
+length on the vanity thus:—
+
+
+“And Some, to set their Love’s-Desire on Edge
+Are cut and prun’d, like to a Quickset Hedge.
+Some like a Spade, some like a Forke, some square,
+Some round, some mow’d like stubble, some starke bare;
+Some sharpe, Stilletto-fashion, Dagger-like,
+That may with Whispering a Man’s Eyes unpike;
+Some with the Hammer-cut, or Roman T.
+Their Beards extravagant, reform’d must be.
+Some with the Quadrate, some Triangle fashion;
+Some circular, some ovall in translation;
+Some Perpendicular in Longitude,
+Some like a Thicket for their Crassitude,
+That Heights, Depths, Breadths, Triform, Square, Ovall, Round
+And Rules Geometrical in Beards are found.”
+
+
+Taylor’s own beard was screw-shaped. I fancy he invented it.
+
+The Anglo-Saxon beard was parted, and this double form remained for a
+long time. Sometimes there were two twists or two long forks.
+
+A curious pointed beard, a beard in two curls, is shown here, on James
+Douglas, Earl of Morton. A still more strangely kept one, pointed in
+the middle of the chin, and kept in two rolls which roll toward the
+front, is upon the aged herald, here.
+
+Richard II had a mean beard,—two little tufts on the chin known as “the
+mouse-eaten beard, here a tuft, there a tuft.” The round beard “like a
+half a Holland cheese” is always seen in the depictions of Falstaff; “a
+great round beard” we know he had. This was easily trimmed, but others
+took so much time and attention that pasteboard boxes were made to tie
+over them at night, that they might be unrumpled in the morning.
+
+
+The Herald Vandum. The Herald Vandum.
+
+In the reign of Elizabeth and of James I a beard and whiskers or
+mustache were universally worn. In the time of Charles I the general
+effect of beard and mustache was triangular, with the mouth in the
+centre, as in the portrait of Waller here.
+
+A beard of some form was certainly universal in 1620. Often it was the
+orderly natural growth shown on Winthrop’s face; a smaller tuft on the
+chin with a mustache also was much worn. Many ministers in America had
+this chin-tuft. Among them were John Eliot and John Davenport. The
+Stuarts wore a pointed beard, carefully trimmed, and a mustache; but
+the natural beard seems to have disappeared with the ruff. Charles II
+clung for a time to a mustache; his portrait by Mary Beale has one; but
+with the great development of the periwig came a smooth face. This
+continued until the nineteenth century brought a fashion of bearded men
+again; a fashion which was so abhorred, so reviled, so openly warred
+with that I know of the bequest of a large estate with the absolute and
+irrevocable condition that the inheritor should never wear a beard of
+any form.
+
+The hammer cut was of the reign of Charles I. It was T-shaped. In the
+play, _The Queen of Corinth_, 1647, are the lines:—
+
+
+      “He strokes his beard
+Which now he puts in the posture of a T,
+The Roman T. Your T-beard is in fashion.”
+
+
+The spade beard is shown here. It was called the “broad pendant,” and
+was held to make a man look like a warrior. The sugar-loaf beard was
+the natural form much worn by Puritans; by natural I mean not twisted
+into any “strange antic forms.” The swallow-tail cut (about 1600) is
+more unusual, but was occasionally seen.
+
+
+“The stiletto-beard
+It makes me afeard
+     It is so sharp beneath.
+For he that doth place
+A dagger in his face
+     What wears he in his sheath?”
+
+
+An unusually fine stiletto beard is on the chin of John Endicott
+(here). It was distinctly a soldier’s beard. Endicott was major-general
+of the colonial forces and a severe disciplinarian. Shakespere, in
+_Henry V_, speaks of “a beard of the General’s cut.” It was worn by the
+Earl of Southampton (see here), and perhaps Endicott favored it on that
+account. The pique-devant beard or “pick-a-devant beard, O Fine
+Fashion,” was much worn. A good moderate example may be seen upon
+Cousin Kilvert, with doublet and band, in the print here. An extreme
+type was the beard of Robert Greene, the Elizabethan dramatist, “A
+jolly long red peake like the spire of a steeple, which he wore
+continually, whereat a man might hang a jewell; it was so sharp and
+pendent.”
+
+
+Scotch Beard. Scotch Beard.
+
+The word “peak” was constantly used for a beard, and also the words
+“spike” and “spear.” A barber is represented in an old play as asking
+whether his customer will “have his peak cut short and sharp; or
+amiable like an inamorato, or broad pendant like a spade; to be
+terrible like a warrior and a soldado; to have his appendices primed,
+or his mustachios fostered to turn about his eares like ye branches of
+a vine.”
+
+A broad square-cut beard spreading at the ends like an open fan is the
+“cathedral beard” of Randle Holme, “so called because grave men of the
+church did wear it.” It is often seen in portraits. One of these is
+shown here.
+
+
+Dr. William Slater. Cathedral Beard. Dr. William Slater. Cathedral
+Beard.
+
+In the _Life of Mrs. Elizabeth Thomas_, 1731, she writes of her
+grandfather, a Turkey-merchant:—
+
+
+“He was very nice in the Mode of his Age—his Valet being some hours
+every morning in _Starching_ his _Beard_ and Curling his Whiskers
+during which Time a Gentleman whom he maintained as Companion always
+read to him upon some useful subject.”
+
+
+So we may believe they really “starched” their beards, stiffened them
+with some dressing. Taylor, the “Water Poet” (1640), says of beards:—
+
+
+“Some seem as they were starched stiff and fine
+Like to the Bristles of some Angry Swine.”
+
+
+
+
+Dr. John Dee. 1600. Dr. John Dee. 1600.
+
+Dr. Dee’s extraordinary beard I can but regard as an affectation of
+singularity, assumed doubtless to attract attention, and to be a sign
+of unusual parts. Aubrey, his friend, calls him “a very handsome man;
+of very fair, clear, sanguine complexion, with a long beard as white as
+milke. He was tall and slender. He wore a gowne like an artist’s gowne;
+with hanging sleeves and a slitt. A mighty good man he was.” The word
+“artist” then meant artisan; and in this reference means a smock like a
+workman’s.
+
+A name seen often in Winthrop’s letters is that of Sir Kenelm Digby. He
+was an intimate correspondent of John Winthrop the second, and it would
+not be strange if he did many errands for Winthrop in England besides
+purchasing drugs. His portrait, and a lugubrious one it is, is one of
+the few of his day which shows an untrimmed beard. Aubrey says of him
+that after the death of his wife he wore “a long mourning cloak, a high
+cornered hatt, his beard unshorn, look’t like a hermit; as signs of
+sorrow for his beloved wife. He had something of the sweetness of his
+mother’s face.” This sweetness is, however, not to be perceived in his
+unattractive portrait.
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES
+
+
+_“Q. Why is a Wife like a Patten? A. Both are Clogs.”_
+
+—Old Riddle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES
+
+
+W
+
+
+hen this old pigskin trunk was new, the men who fought in the
+Revolution were young. Here is the date, “1756,” and the initials in
+brass-headed nails, “J.E.H.” It was a bride’s trunk, the trunk of
+Elizabeth, who married John; and it was marked after the manner of
+marking the belongings of married folk in her day. It is curious in
+shape, spreading out wide at the top; for it was made to fit a special
+place in an old coach. I have told the story of that ancient coach in
+my _Old Narragansett_: the tale of the ignoble end of its days, the
+account of its fall from transportation of this happy bride and
+bridegroom, through years of stately use and formal dignity to more
+years of happy desuetude as a children’s cubby-house; and finally its
+ignominy as a roosting-place, and hiding-place, and laying-place, and
+setting-place of misinformed and misguided hens. Under the coachman’s
+seat, where the two-score dark-blue Staffordshire pie-plates were found
+on the day of the annihilation of the coach, was the true resting-place
+of this trunk. It was a hidden spot, for the trunk was small, and was
+intended to hold only treasures. It holds them still, though they are
+not the silver-plate, the round watches, the narrow laces, and the
+precious camel’s-hair scarf. It now holds treasured relics of the olden
+time; trifles, but not unconsidered ones; much esteemed trifles are
+they, albeit not in form or shape or manner of being fit to rest in
+parlor cabinets or on tables, but valued, nevertheless, valued for that
+most intangible of qualities—association.
+
+
+Iron and Leather Pattens. 1760. Iron and Leather Pattens. 1760.
+
+
+Oak, Iron, and Leather Clogs. 1790. Oak, Iron, and Leather Clogs. 1790.
+
+Here is one little “antick.” It is an ample bag with the neat double
+drawing-strings of our youth; a bag, nay, a pocket. It once hung by the
+side of some one of my forbears, perhaps Elizabeth of the brass-nailed
+initials. It was a much-esteemed pocket, though it is only of figured
+cotton or chiney; but those stuffs were much sought after when this old
+trunk was new. The pocket has served during recent years as a cover for
+two articles of footwear which many “of the younger sort” to-day have
+never seen—they are pattens. “Clumsy, ugly pattens” we find them
+frequently stigmatized in the severe words of the early years of the
+nineteenth century, but there is nothing ugly or clumsy about this
+pair. The sole is of some black, polished wood—it is heavy enough for
+ebony; the straps are of strong leather neatly stitched; the buckles
+are polished brass, and brass nails fasten the leather to the wooden
+soles. These soles are cut up high in a ridge to fit under the instep
+of a high-heeled shoe; for it was a very little lady who wore these
+pattens,—Elizabeth,—and her little feet always stood in the highest
+heels. She was active, kindly, and bountiful. She lived to great age,
+and she could and did walk many miles a day until the last year of her
+life. She is recalled as wearing a great scarlet cloak with a black
+silk quilted hood on cold winter days, when she visited her neighbors
+with kindly words, and housewifely, homely gifts, conveyed in an ample
+basket. The cloak was made precisely like the scarlet cloak shown here,
+and had a like hood. She was brown-eyed, and her dark hair was never
+gray even in extreme old age; nor was the hair of her granddaughter,
+another Elizabeth, my grandmother. Trim and erect of figure, and
+precise and neat of dress, wearing, on account of this neatness,
+shorter petticoats, when walking, than was the mode of her day, and
+also through this neatness clinging to the very last to these cleanly,
+useful, quaint pattens. Her black hood, frilled white cap, short,
+quilted petticoat, high-heeled shoes, and the shining ebony and brass
+pattens, and over all the great, full scarlet cloak,—all these made her
+an unusual and striking figure against the Wayland landscape, the snowy
+fields and great sombre pine trees of Heard’s Island, as she trod
+trimly, in short pattened steps that crackled the kittly-benders in the
+shadowed roads, or sunk softly in the shallow mud of the sunny lanes on
+a snow-melting day in late winter. Would I could paint the picture as I
+see it!
+
+These pattens in the old trunk are prettier than most pattens which
+have been preserved. In general, they are rather shabby things. I have
+another pair—more commonplace, which chance to exist; they were not
+saved purposely. They are pictured here.
+
+
+English Clogs. English Clogs.
+
+There is a most ungallant old riddle, “Why is a wife like a patten?”
+The answer reads, “Because both are clogs.” A very courteous bishop was
+once asked this uncivil query, and he answered without a moment’s
+hesitation, “Because both elevate the soul (sole).” Pattens may be
+clogs, yet there is a difference. After much consultation of various
+authorities, and much discussion in the columns of various querying
+journals, I make this decision and definition. Pattens are thick,
+wooden soles roughly shaped in the outline of the human foot (in the
+shoemaker’s notion of that member), mounted on a round or oval ring of
+iron, fixed by two or three pins to the sole, in such a way that when
+the patten is worn the sole of the wearer’s foot is about two inches
+above the ground. A heel-piece with buckles and straps, strings or
+buttons and leather loops, and a strap over the toe, retain the patten
+in place upon the foot when the wearer trips along. (See here.) Clogs
+serve the same purpose, but are simply wooden soles tipped and shod
+with iron. These also have heel-pieces and straps of various
+materials—from the heavy serviceable leather shown in the clogs here
+and here to the fine brocade clogs made and worn by two brides and
+pictured here. Dainty brass tips and colored morocco straps made a
+really refined pair of clogs. Poplar wood was deemed the best wood for
+pattens and clogs. Sometimes the wooden sole was thin, and was cut at
+the line under the instep in two pieces and hinged. These hinges were
+held to facilitate walking. Children also wore clogs. (See here.)
+Clogs, as worn by English and American folk, did not raise the wearer
+as high above the mud and mire as did pattens, but I have seen Turkish
+clogs that were ten inches high. Chopines were worn by Englishwomen to
+make them look taller. Three are shown here. Lady Falkland was short
+and stout, and wore them for years to increase her apparent height; so
+she states in her memoirs.
+
+It is a curious philological study that, while the words “clogs” and
+“pattens” for a time were constantly heard, the third name which has
+survived till to-day is the oldest of all—“galoshes.” Under the many
+spellings, galoe-shoes, goloshes, gallage, galoche, and gallosh, it has
+come down to us from the Middle Ages. It is spelt galoches in _Piers
+Plowman_. In a _Compotus_—or household account of the Countess of Derby
+in 1388 are entries of botews (boots), souters (slippers), and “one
+pair of galoches, 14 d.” Clogs, or galoches, were known in the days of
+the Saxons, when they were termed “wife’s shoes.”
+
+A “galage” was a shoe “which has nothing on the feet but a latchet”; it
+was simply a clog. In February, 1687, Judge Sewall notes, “Send my
+mothers Shoes &; Golowshoes to carry to her.” In 1736 Peter Faneuil
+sent to England for “Galoushoes” for his sister. Another foot-covering
+for slippery, icy walking is named by Judge Sewall. He wrote on January
+19, 1717, “Great rain and very Slippery; was fain to wear Frosts.”
+These frosts were what had been called on horses, “frost nails,” or
+calks. They were simply spiked soles to help the wearer to walk on ice.
+A pair may be seen at the Deerfield Memorial Hall. Another pair is of
+half-soles with sharp ridges of iron, set, one the length of the
+half-sole, the other across it.
+
+
+Chopines, Seventeenth Century. In the Ashmolean Museum. Chopines,
+Seventeenth Century. In the Ashmolean Museum.
+
+For a time clogs seem to have been in constant use in America; frail
+morocco slippers and thin prunella and callimanco shoes made them
+necessary, as did also the unpaved streets. Heavy-soled shoes were
+unknown for women’s wear. Women walked but short distances. In the
+country they always rode. We find even Quaker women warned in 1720 not
+to wear “Shoes of light Colours bound with Differing Colours, and heels
+White or Red, with White bands, and fine Coloured Clogs and Strings,
+and Scarlet and Purple Stockings and Petticoats made Short to expose
+them”—a rather startling description of footwear. Again, in 1726, in
+Burlington, New Jersey, Friends were asked to be “careful to avoid
+wearing of Stript Shoos, or Red and White Heel’d Shoos, or Clogs, or
+Shoos trimmed with Gawdy Colours.”
+
+
+Brides’ Clogs of Brocade and Sole Leather. Brides’ Clogs of Brocade and
+Sole Leather.
+
+Ann Warder, an English Quaker, was in Philadelphia, 1786 to 1789, and
+kept an entertaining journal, from which I make this quotation:—
+
+
+“Got B. Parker to go out shopping with me. On our way happened of Uncle
+Head, to whom I complained bitterly of the dirty streets, declaring if
+I could purchase a pair of pattens, the singularity I would not mind.
+Uncle soon found me up an apartment, out of which I took a pair and
+trotted along quite Comfortable, crossing some streets with the
+greatest ease, which the idea of had troubled me. My little companion
+was so pleased, that she wished some also, and kept them on her feet to
+learn to walk in them most of the remainder of the day.”
+
+
+Fairholt, in his book upon costume, says, “Pattens date their origin to
+the reign of Anne.” Like many other dates and statements given by this
+author, this is wholly wrong. In _Purchas’, his Pilgrimage_, 1613, is
+this sentence, “Clogges or Pattens to keep them out of the dust they
+may not burden themselves with,” showing that the name and thing was
+the same then as to-day.
+
+
+Clogs of “Pennsylvania Dutch.” Clogs of “Pennsylvania Dutch.”
+
+Charles Dibdin has a song entitled, _The Origin of the Patten_. Fair
+Patty went out in the mud and the mire, and her thin shoes speedily
+were wet. Then she became hoarse and could not sing, while her lover
+longed for the sweet sound of her voice.
+
+
+“My anvil glow’d, my hammer rang,
+Till I had form’d from out the fire
+To bear her feet above the mire,
+A platform for my blue-eyed Patty.
+Again was heard each tuneful close,
+My fair one in the patten rose,
+  Which takes its name from blue-eyed Patty.”
+
+
+This fanciful derivation of the word was not an original thought of
+Dibdin. Gay wrote in his Trivia, 1715:—
+
+
+“The patten now supports each frugal dame
+That from the blue-eyed Patty takes the name.”
+
+
+In reality, patten is derived from the French word _patin_, which has a
+varied meaning of the sole of a shoe or a skate.
+
+Pattens were noisy, awkward wear. A writer of the day of their
+universality wrote, “Those ugly, noisy, ferruginous, ancle-twisting,
+foot-cutting, clinking things called women’s pattens.” Notices were set
+in church porches enjoining the removal of women’s pattens, which, of
+course, should never have been worn into church during service-time.
+
+
+Children’s Clogs. 1730. Children’s Clogs. 1730.
+
+It may have disappeared today, but four years ago, on the door of
+Walpole St. Peters, near Wisbeck, England, hung a board which read,
+“People who enter this church are requested to take off their pattens.”
+A friend in Northamptonshire, England, writes me that pattens are still
+seen on muddy days in remote English villages in that shire.
+
+Men wore pattens in early days. And men did and do wear clogs in
+English mill-towns.
+
+There were also horse pattens or horse clogs which horses wore through
+deep, muddy roads; I have an interesting photograph of a pair found in
+Northampton.
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES
+
+
+_“By my Faith! Master Inkpen, thou hast put thy foot in it! Tis a
+pretty subject and a strange one, and a vast one, but we’ll leave it
+never a sole to stand on. The proverb hath ‘There’s naught like
+leather,’ but my Lady answers ‘Save silk:’”_
+
+—Old Play.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES
+
+
+O
+
+
+ne of the first sumptuary laws in New England declared that men of mean
+estate should not walk abroad in immoderate great boots. It was a
+natural prohibition where all extravagance in dress was reprehended and
+restrained. The “great boots” which had been so vast in the reign of
+James I seemed to be spreading still wider in the reign of Charles. I
+have an old “Discourse” on leather dated 1629, which states fully the
+condition of things. Its various headings read, “The general Use of
+Leather;” “The general Abuse thereof;” “The good which may arise from
+the Reformation;” “The several Statutes made in that behalf by our
+ancient Kings;” and lastly a “Petition to the High Court of
+Parliament.” It is all most informing; for instance, in the trades that
+might want work were it not for leather are named not only “shoemakers,
+cordwainers, curriers, etc.,” but many now obsolete. The list reads:—
+
+
+“Book binders.
+Budget makers.
+Saddlers.
+Trunk makers.
+Upholsterers.
+Belt makers.
+Case makers.
+Box makers.
+Wool-card makers.
+Cabinet makers.
+Shuttle makers.
+Bottle and Jack makers.
+Hawks-hood makers.
+Gridlers.
+Scabbard-makers.
+Glovers.”
+
+
+Unwillingly the author added “those _upstart trades_—Coach Makers, and
+Harness Makers for Coach Horses.” It was really feared, by this
+sensible gentleman-writer—and many others—that if many carriages and
+coaches were used, shoemakers would suffer because so few shoes would
+be worn out.
+
+From the statutes which are rehearsed we learn that the footwear of the
+day was “boots, shoes, buskins, startups, slippers, or pantofles.”
+Stubbes said:—
+
+
+“They have korked shooes puisnets pantoffles, some of black velvet,
+some of white some of green, some of yellow, some of Spanish leather,
+some of English leather stitched with Silke and embroidered with Gold
+&; Silver all over the foot.”
+
+
+A very interesting book has been published by the British Cordwainers’
+Guild, giving a succession of fine illustrations of the footwear of
+different times and nations. Among them are some handsome English
+slippers, shoes, jack-boots, etc. We have also in our museums,
+historical collections, and private families many fine examples; but
+the difficulty is in the assigning of correct dates. Family tradition
+is absolutely wide of the truth—its fabulous dates are often a century
+away from the proper year.
+
+
+The Copley Family Picture. The Copley Family Picture.
+
+
+Wedding Slippers and Brocade. 1712. Wedding Slippers and Brocade. 1712.
+
+Buskins to the knee were worn even by royalty; Queen Elizabeth’s still
+exist. Buskins were in wear when the colonies were settled. Richard
+Sawyer, of Windsor, Connecticut, had cloth buskins in 1648; and a
+hundred years later runaway servants wore them. One redemptioner is
+described as running off in “sliders and buskins.” American buskins
+were a foot-covering consisting of a strong leather sole with cloth
+uppers and leggins to the knees, which were fastened with lacings.
+Startups were similar, but heavier. In Thynne’s _Debate between Pride
+and Lowliness_, the dress of a countryman is described. It runs thus:—
+
+
+“A payre of startups had he on his feete
+   That lased were up to the small of the legge.
+ Homelie they are, and easier than meete;
+   And in their soles full many a wooden pegge.”
+
+
+Thomas Johnson of Wethersfield, Connecticut, died in 1840. He owned “1
+Perre of Startups.”
+
+Slippers were worn even in the fifteenth century. In the _Paston
+Letters_, in a letter dated February 23, 1479, is this sentence, “In
+the whych lettre was VIII d with the whych I shulde bye a peyr of
+slyppers.” Even for those days eightpence must have been a small price
+for slippers. In 1686, Judge Samuel Sewall wrote to a member of the
+Hall family thanking him for “The Kind Loving Token—the East Indian
+Slippers for my wife.” Other colonial letters refer to Oriental
+slippers; and I am sure that Turkish slippers are worn by Lady Temple
+in her childish portrait, painted in company with her brother.
+Slip-shoes were evidently slippers—the word is used by Sewall; and
+slap-shoes are named by Randle Holme. Pantofles were also slippers,
+being apparently rather handsomer footwear than ordinary slippers or
+slip-shoes. They are in general specified as embroidered. Evelyn tells
+of the fine pantofles of the Pope embroidered with jewels on the
+instep.
+
+So great was the use and abuse of leather that a petition was made to
+Parliament in 1629 to attempt to restrict the making of great boots.
+One sentence runs:—
+
+
+“The wearing of Boots is not the Abuse; but the generality of wearing
+and the manner of cutting Boots out with huge slovenly unmannerly
+immoderate tops. What over lavish spending is there in Boots and Shoes.
+To either of which is now added a French proud Superfluity of Leather.
+
+“For the general Walking in Boots it is a Pride taken up by the
+Courtier and is descended to the Clown. The Merchant and Mechanic walk
+in Boots. Many of our Clergy either in neat Boots or Shoes and
+Galloshoes. University Scholars maintain the Fashion likewise. Some
+Citizens out of a Scorn not to be Gentile go every day booted.
+Attorneys, Lawyers, Clerks, Serving Men, All Sorts of Men delight in
+this Wasteful Wantonness.
+
+“Wasteful I may well call it. One pair of boots eats up the leather of
+six reasonable pair of men’s shoes.”
+
+
+
+
+Jack-boots. Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia. Jack-boots. Owned by
+Lord Fairfax of Virginia.
+
+Monstrous boots seem to have been the one frivolity in dress which the
+Puritans could not give up. In the reign of Charles I boots were
+superb. The tops were flaring, lined within with lace or embroidered or
+fringed; thus when turned down they were richly ornamental. Fringes of
+leather, silk, or cloth edged some boot-tops on the outside; the
+leather itself was carved and gilded. The soldiers and officers of
+Cromwell’s army sometimes gave up laces and fringes, but not the
+boot-tops. The Earl of Essex, his general, had cloth fringes on his
+boots. (See his portrait facing here; also the portrait of Lord Fairfax
+here.) In the court of Charles II and Louis XIV of France the boot-tops
+spread to absurd inconvenience. The toes of these boots were very
+square, as were the toes of men’s and women’s shoes. Children’s shoes
+were of similar form. The singular shoes worn by John Quincy and Robert
+Gibbes are precisely right-angled. It was a sneer at the Puritans that
+they wore pointed toes. The shoe-ties, roses, and buckles varied; but
+the square toes lingered, though they were singularly inelegant. On the
+feet of George I (see portrait here) the square-toed shoes are ugly
+indeed.
+
+James I scornfully repelled shoe-roses when brought to him for his
+wear; asking if they wished to “make a ruffle-footed dove” of him. But
+soon he wore the largest rosettes in court. Peacham tells that some
+cost as much as £;30 a pair, being then, of course, of rare lace.
+
+
+Joshua Warner. Joshua Warner.
+
+_Friar Bacon’s Brazen Head Prophecie_, set into a “Plaie” or Rhyme, has
+these verses (1604):
+
+“Then Handkerchers were wrought
+    With Names and true Love Knots;
+And not a wench was taught
+    A false Stitch in her spots;
+When Roses in the Gardaines grew
+And not in Ribons on a Shoe.
+
+“_Now_ Sempsters few are taught
+    The true Stitch in their Spots;
+And Names are sildome wrought
+    Within the true love knots;
+And Ribon Roses takes such Place
+That Garden Roses want their Grace.”
+
+
+Shoes of buff leather, slashed, were the very height of the fashion in
+the first years of the seventeenth century. They can be seen on the
+feet of Will Sommers in his portrait. Through the slashes showed bright
+the scarlet or green stockings of cloth or yarn. Bright-colored
+shoe-strings gave additional gaudiness. Green shoe-strings, spangled,
+gilded shoe-strings, shoes of “dry-neat-leather tied with red ribbons,”
+“russet boots,” “white silken shoe strings,”—all were worn.
+
+Red heels appear about 1710. In Hogarth’s original paintings they are
+seen. Women wore them extensively in America.
+
+The jack-boots of Stuart days seem absolutely imperishable. They are of
+black, jacked leather like the leather bottles and black-jacks from
+which Englishmen drank their ale. So closely are they alike that I do
+not wonder a French traveller wrote home that Englishmen drank from
+their boots. These jack-boots were as solid and unpliable as iron,
+square-toed and clumsy of shape. A pair in perfect preservation which
+belonged to Lord Fairfax in Virginia is portrayed here. Had all
+colonial gentlemen worn jack-boots, the bootmakers and shoemakers would
+have been ruined, for a pair would last a lifetime.
+
+
+Shoe and Knee Buckles. Shoe and Knee Buckles.
+
+In 1767 we find William Cabell of Virginia paying these prices for his
+finery:—
+
+£	s.	d. 1 Pair single channelled boots with straps	 1	 2 1
+Pair Strong Buckskin Breeches	1	 10 2 Pairs Fashionable Chain
+Silver Spurs 	 2	 10 1 Pair Silver Buttons 		 6 1 fine
+Magazine Blue Cloth Housing laced		12 1 Strong Double
+Bridle		4	 6 6 Pair Men’s fine Silk Hose	 4 	 4 Buttons
+&; trimmings for a coat	 5	 2
+
+New England dandies wore, as did Monsieur A-la-mode:—
+
+  “A pair of smart pumps made up of grain’d leather,
+   So thin he can’t venture to tread on a feather.”
+
+
+Buckles were made of pinchbeck, an alloy of four parts of copper and
+one part of zinc, invented by Christopher Pinchbeck, a London
+watchmaker of the eighteenth century. Buckles were also “plaited” and
+double “plaited” with gold and silver (which was the general spelling
+of plated). Plated buckles were cast in pinchbeck, with a pattern on
+the surface. A silver coating was laid over this. These buckles were
+set with marcasite, garnet, and paste jewels; sometimes they were of
+gold with real diamonds. But much imitation jewellery was worn by all
+people even of great wealth. Perhaps imitation is an incorrect word.
+The old paste jewels made no assertion of being diamonds. Steel cut in
+facets and combined with gold, made beautiful buckles. A number of rich
+shoe and garter buckles, owned in Salem, are shown here.
+
+These old buckles were handsome, costly, dignified; they were becoming;
+they were elegant. Nevertheless, the fashionable world tired of its
+expensive and appropriate buckles; they suddenly were deemed
+inconveniently large, and plain shoe-strings took their place. This
+caused great commotion and ruin among the buckle-makers, who, with the
+fatuity of other tradespeople—the wig-makers, the hair-powder makers—in
+like calamitous changes of fashion, petitioned the Prince of Wales, in
+1791, to do something to revive their vanishing trade. But it was like
+placing King Canute against the advancing waves of the sea.
+
+
+Wedding Slippers. Wedding Slippers.
+
+When the Revolutionists in France set about altering and simplifying
+costume, they did away with shoe-buckles, and fastened their shoes with
+plain strings. Minister Roland, one day in 1793, was about to present
+himself to Louis XVI while he was wearing shoes with strings. The old
+Master of Ceremonies, scandalized at having to introduce a person in
+such a state of undress, looked despairingly at Dumouriez, who was
+present. Dumouriez replied with an equally hopeless gesture, and the
+words, “Hélas! oui, monsieur, tout est perdu.”
+
+President Jefferson, with his hateful French notions, made himself
+especially obnoxious to conservative American folk by giving up
+shoe-buckles. I read in the _New York Evening Post_ that when he
+received the noisy bawling band of admirers who brought into the White
+House the Mammoth Cheese (one of the most vulgar exhibitions ever seen
+in this country), he was “dressed in his suit of customary black, with
+shoes that laced tight round the ankle and closed with a neat leathern
+string.”
+
+When shoe-strings were established and trousers were becoming popular,
+there seemed to be a time of indecision as to the dress of the legs
+below the short pantaloons and above the stringed shoes. That point of
+indefiniteness was filled promptly with top-boots. First, black tops
+appeared; then came tops of fancy leather, of which yellow was the
+favorite. Gilt tassels swung pleasingly from the colored tops. Silken
+tassels—home made—were worn. I have a letter from a young American
+macaroni to his sweetheart in which he thanks her for her
+“heart-filling boot-tossels”—which seems to me a very cleverly
+flattering adjective. He adds: “Did those rosy fingers twist the silken
+strands, and knot them with thought of the wearer? I wish you was
+loveing enough to tye some threads of your golden hair into the
+tossells, but I swear I cannot find never a one.” The conjunction of
+two negatives in this manner was common usage a hundred years ago;
+while “you was” may be found in the writings of our greatest authors of
+that date.
+
+In one attribute, women’s footwear never varied in the two centuries of
+this book’s recording. It was always thin-soled and of light material;
+never adequate for much “walking abroad” or for any wet weather. In
+fact, women have never worn heavy walking-boots until our own day.
+Whether high-heeled or no-heeled they were always thin.
+
+The curious “needle-pointed” slippers which are pictured here were the
+bridal slippers at the wedding of Cornelia de Peyster, who married
+Oliver Teller in 1712. Several articles of her dress still exist; and
+the background of the slippers is a breadth of the superb yellow and
+silver brocade wedding gown worn at the same time.
+
+When we have the tiny pages of the few newspapers to turn to, we learn
+a little of women’s shoes. There were advertisements in 1740 of
+“mourning shoes,” “fine silk shoes,” “flowered russet shoes,” “white
+callimanco shoes,” “black shammy shoes,” “girls’ flowered russet
+shoes,” “shoes of black velvet, white damask, red morocco, and red
+everlasting.” “Damask worsted shoes in red, blue, green, pink color and
+white,” in 1751. There were satinet patterns for ladies’ shoes
+embroidered with flowers in the vamp. The heels were “high, cross-cut,
+common, court, and wurtemburgh.” Some shoes were white with russet
+bands. “French fall” shoes were worn both by women and men for many
+years.
+
+
+Mrs. Abigail Bromfield Rogers. Mrs. Abigail Bromfield Rogers.
+
+Here is a pair of beautiful brocade wedding shoes. The heels are not
+high. Another pair was made of the silken stuff of the beautiful sacque
+worn by Mrs. Carroll. These have high heels running down to a very
+small heel-base. In the works of Hogarth we may find many examples of
+women’s shoes. In all the old shoes I have seen, made about the time of
+the American Revolution, the maker’s name is within and this legend,
+“Rips mended free.” Many heels were much higher and smaller than any
+given in this book.
+
+
+Mrs. Carroll’s Slippers. Mrs. Carroll’s Slippers.
+
+It is astonishing to read the advocacy and eulogy given by sensible
+gentlemen to these extreme heels. Watson, the writer of the _Annals of
+Philadelphia_, extolled their virtues—that they threw the weight of the
+wearer on the ball of the foot and spread it out for a good support. He
+deplores the flat feet of 1830.
+
+In 1790 heels disappeared; sandal-shapes were the mode. The quarters
+were made low, and instead of a buckle was a tiny bow or a pleated
+ribbon edging. In 1791 “the exact size” of the shoe of the Duchess of
+York was published—a fashionable fad which our modern sensation hunters
+have not bethought themselves of. It was 5 3/4 inches in length; the
+breadth of sole, 1 3/4 inches. It was a colored print, and shows that
+the lady’s shoe was of green silk spotted with gold stars, and bound
+with scarlet silk. The sole is thicker at the back, forming a slight
+uplift which was not strictly a heel. Of course, this was a tiny foot,
+but we do not know the height of the duchess.
+
+I have seen the remains of a charming pair of court shoes worn in
+France by a pretty Boston girl. These had been embroidered with paste
+jewels, “diamonds”; while to my surprise the back seam of both shoes
+was outlined with paste emeralds. I find that this was the mode of the
+court of Marie Antoinette. The queen and her ladies wore these in real
+jewels, and in affectation wore no jewels elsewhere.
+
+In Mrs. Gaskell’s _My Lady Ludlow_ we are told that my lady would not
+sanction the mode of the beginning of the century which “made all the
+fine ladies take to making shoes.” Mrs. Blundell, in one of her novels,
+sets her heroine (about 1805) at shoe-making. The shoes of that day
+were very thin of material, very simple of shape, were heelless, and in
+many cases closely approached a sandal. A pair worn by my great-aunt at
+that date is shown on this page. American women certainly had tiny
+feet. This aunt was above the average height, but her shoes are no
+larger than the number known to-day as “Ones”—a size about large enough
+for a girl ten years old.
+
+
+White Kid Slippers. 1815. White Kid Slippers. 1815.
+
+It was not long after English girls were making shoes that Yankee girls
+were shaping and binding them in New England. I have seen several old
+letters which gave rules for shaping and directions for sewing
+party-shoes of thin light kid and silk. It is not probable that any
+heavy materials were ever made up by women at home. Sandals also were
+worn, and made by girls for their own wear from bits of morocco and
+kid.
+
+In the early years of the century the thin, silk hose and low slippers
+of the French fashions proved almost unendurable in our northern
+winters. One wearer of the time writes, “Many a time have I walked
+Broadway when the pavement sent almost a death chill to my heart.” The
+Indians then furnished an article of dress which must have been
+grateful indeed, pretty moccasins edged with fur, to be worn over the
+thin slippers.
+
+An old lady recalled with precision that the first boots for women’s
+wear came in fashion in 1828; they were laced at the side. Garters and
+boots both had fringes at the top.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CENTURIES OF COSTUME IN AMERICA, VOL. 1 (1620-1820)  ***
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+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Two Centuries of Costume in America, Vol. 1 (1620-1820), by Alice Morse Earle</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
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+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Two Centuries of Costume in America<br />
+  Vol. 1 (1620-1820)</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Alice Morse Earle</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: November 17, 2003 [eBook #10115]<br />
+[Most recently updated: April 8, 2023]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Charles Aldarondo, Keren Vergon, Susan Skinner, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CENTURIES OF COSTUME IN AMERICA, VOL. 1 (1620-1820) ***</div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:55%;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" />
+</div>
+
+<h1>TWO CENTURIES OF COSTUME IN AMERICA<br/>
+MDCXX-MDCCCXX</h1>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2 class="no-break">ALICE MORSE EARLE</h2>
+
+<h3>AUTHOR OF “SUN-DIALS AND ROSES OF YESTERDAY” “OLD TIME GARDENS,” ETC.</h3>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>VOLUME I</h2>
+
+<h4>Nineteen Hundred and Three</h4>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+<a name="Madam_Padishal_and_Child."></a>
+<img src="images/423.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Madam Padishal and Child" />
+<p class="caption">Madam Padishal and Child.
+</p></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p>
+<i>To George P. Brett</i>
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“An honest Stationer (or Publisher) is he, that exercizeth his Mystery
+(whether it be in printing, bynding or selling of Bookes) with more respect to
+the glory of God &amp; the publike aduantage than to his owne Commodity &amp;
+is both an ornament &amp; a profitable member in a ciuill Commonwealth.... If
+he be a Printer he makes conscience to exemplefy his Coppy fayrely &amp; truly.
+If he be a Booke-bynder, he is no meere Bookeseller (that is) one who selleth
+meerely ynck &amp; paper bundled up together for his owne aduantage only: but
+he is a Chapman of Arts, of wisdome, &amp; of much experience for a little
+money.... The reputation of Schollers is as deare unto him as his owne: For, he
+acknowledgeth that from them his Mystery had both begining and means of
+continuance. He heartely loues &amp; seekes the Prosperity of his owne
+Corporation: Yet he would not iniure the Uniuersityes to advantage it. In a
+word, he is such a man that the State ought to cherish him; Schollers to loue
+him; good Customers to frequent his shopp; and the whole Company of Stationers
+to pray for him.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—GEORGE WITHER, 1625.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<h3>VOL. I</h3>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap01">I. APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap02">II. DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap03">III. ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap04">IV. A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap05">V. THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap06">VI. RUFFS AND BANDS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap07">VII. CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap08">VIII. THE VENERABLE HOOD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap09">IX. CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap10">X. THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap11">XI. PERUKES AND PERIWIGS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap12">XII. THE BEARD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap13">XIII. PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#chap14">XIV. BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES</a>
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOLUME I</h2>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Madam_Padishal_and_Child.">MADAM PADISHAL AND CHILD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<i>Frontispiece</i>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This fine presentation of the dress of a gentlewoman and infant child, in the
+middle of the seventeenth century, hung in old Plymouth homes in the Thomas and
+Stevenson families till it came by inheritance to the present owner, Mrs.
+Greely Stevenson Curtis of Boston, Mass. The artist is unknown.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_John_Endicott">JOHN ENDICOTT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Dorchester, Eng., 1589. Died in Boston, Mass., 1665. He emigrated to
+America in 1628; became governor of the colony in 1644, and was major-general
+of the colonial troops. He hated Indians, the Church of Rome, and Quakers. He
+wears a velvet skull-cap, and a finger-ring, which is somewhat unusual; a
+square band; a richly fringed and embroidered glove; and a “stiletto” beard.
+This portrait is in the Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_Edward_Winslow.">EDWARD WINSLOW</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in England, 1595; died at sea, 1655. One of the founders of the Plymouth
+colony in 1620; and governor of that colony in 1633, 1636, 1644. This portrait
+is dated 1651. It is in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_John_Winthrop.">JOHN WINTHROP</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in England, 1588; died in Boston, 1649. Educated at Trinity College,
+Cambridge; admitted to the Inner Temple, 1628. Made governor of Massachusetts
+Bay Colony in 1629. Arrived in Salem, 1630. His portrait by Van Dyck and a fine
+miniature exist. The latter is owned by American Antiquarian Society,
+Worcester, Mass. This picture is copied from a very rare engraving from the
+miniature, which is finer and even more thoughtful in expression than the
+portrait. Both have the lace-edged ruff, but the shape of the dress is
+indistinct.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_Simon_Bradstreet.">SIMON BRADSTREET</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in England, 1603; died in Salem, Mass., 1697. He was governor of the
+colony when he was ninety years old. The Labadists, who visited him, wrote: “He
+is an old man, quiet and grave; dressed in black silk, but not sumptuously.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Sir_Richard_Saltonstall.">SIR RICHARD SALTONSTALL</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A mayor of London who came to Salem among the first settlers. The New England
+families of his name are all descended from him. He wears buff-coat and
+trooping scarf. This portrait was painted by Rembrandt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Sir_Walter_Raleigh.">SIR WALTER RALEIGH</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Devonshire, Eng., 1552; executed in London, 1618. A courtier, poet,
+historian, nobleman, soldier, explorer, and colonizer. He was the favorite of
+Elizabeth; the colonizer of Virginia; the hero of the Armada; the victim of
+King James. In this portrait he wears a slashed jerkin; a lace ruff; a broad
+trooping scarf with great lace shoulder-knot; a jewelled sword-belt; full,
+embroidered breeches; lace-edged garters, and vast shoe-roses, which combine to
+form a confused dress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Sir_Walter_Raleigh_and_Son.">SIR WALTER RALEIGH AND SON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This print was owned by the author for many years, with the written endorsement
+by some unknown hand, <i>Martin Frobisher and Son</i>. I am glad to learn that
+it is from a painting by Zucchero of Raleigh and his son, and is owned at
+Wickham Court, in Kent, Eng., by the descendant of one of Raleigh’s companions
+in his explorations. The child’s dress is less fantastic than other portraits
+of English children of the same date.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#ROBERT_DEVEREUX">ROBERT DEVEREUX, EARL OF ESSEX</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From an old print. A general of Cromwell’s army.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Cromwell_dissolving_Parliament.">OLIVER CROMWELL DISSOLVING
+PARLIAMENT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From an old Dutch print.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Sir_William_Waller.">SIR WILLIAM WALLER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A general in Cromwell’s army. Born, 1597; died, 1668. He served in the Thirty
+Years’ War. This portrait is in the National Portrait Gallery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#TherightHonourableFerdinandLordFairfax">LORD FAIRFAX</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A general in Cromwell’s army. From an old print.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Alderman_Abell_and_Richard_Kilvert">ALDERMAN ABELL AND RICHARD
+KILVERT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From an old print.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Reverend_John_Cotton.">REV. JOHN COTTON, D.D.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Derby, Eng., 1585; died at Boston, Mass., in 1652. A Puritan clergyman
+who settled in Boston in 1633. He drew up for the colonists, at the request of
+the General Court, an abstract of the laws of Moses entitled <i>Moses His
+Judicials</i>, which was of greatest influence in the formation of the laws of
+the colony. This portrait is owned by Robert C. Winthrop, Esq.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Reverend_Cotton_Mather.">REV. COTTON MATHER, D.D.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Boston, Mass., 1683; died in Boston, Mass., 1728. A clergyman, author,
+and scholar. His book, <i>Magnalia Christi Americana</i>, an ecclesiastical
+history of New England, is of much value, though most trying. He took an active
+and now much-abhorred part in the Salem witchcraft. This portrait is owned by
+the American Antiquarian Society, Worcester, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#SlashedSleevestempCharlesI">SLASHED SLEEVES</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From portraits <i>temp</i>. Charles I. The first is from a Van Dyck portrait of
+the Earl of Stanhope, and has a rich, lace-edged cuff. The second, with a
+graceful lawn undersleeve, is from a Van Dyck of Lucius Gary, Viscount
+Falkland. The third is from a painting by Mytens of the Duke of Hamilton. The
+fourth, by Van Dyck, is from one of Lord Villiers, Viscount Grandison.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._William_Clark.">MRS. KATHERINE CLARK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1602; died, 1671. An English gentlewoman renowned in her day for her
+piety and charity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Lady_Mary_Armine.">LADY MARY ARMINE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An English lady of great piety, whose gifts to Christianize the Indians make
+her name appear in the early history of Massachusetts. Her black domino and
+frontlet are of interest. This portrait was painted about 1650.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#The_Tub-preacher.">THE TUB-PREACHER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An old print of a Quaker meeting. Probably by Marcel Lawson.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Old_Venice_Point_Lace.">VENICE POINT LACE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Mrs. Robert Fulton Crary of Poughkeepsie, N.Y.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">REBECCA RAWSON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The daughter of Edward Rawson, Secretary of State. Born in Boston in 1656;
+married in 1679 to an adventurer, Thomas Rumsey, who called himself Sir Thomas
+Hale. She died at sea, in 1692. This portrait is owned by New England Historic
+Genealogical Society.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Elizabeth_Paddy_Wensley.">ELIZABETH PADDY</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Plymouth, Mass., in 1641. Daughter of William Paddy; she married John
+Wensley of Plymouth. Their daughter Sarah married Dr. Isaac Winslow. This
+portrait is in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">MRS. SIMEON STODDARD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A wealthy Boston gentlewoman. This portrait was painted in the latter half of
+the seventeenth century. It is owned by the Massachusetts Historical Society.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Ancient_Black_Lace.">ANCIENT BLACK LACE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Mrs. Robert Fulton Crary, Poughkeepsie, N.Y.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Virago-sleeve.">VIRAGO-SLEEVE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From a French portrait.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#NinondelEnclos">NINON DE L’ENCLOS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Paris, 1615; died in 1705. Her dress has a slashed virago-sleeve and
+lace whisk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Lady_Catharina_Howard.">LADY CATHERINE HOWARD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Grandchild of the Earl of Arundel. Aged thirteen years. Drawn in 1646 by W.
+Hollar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Costumes_of_Englishwomen_of_the_Seventeenth_Century.">COSTUMES OF
+ENGLISHWOMEN OF SEVENTEENTH CENTURY</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Plates from <i>Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus, or Several Habits of
+Englishwomen</i>, 1640. By Wenceslaus Hollar, an engraver of much note and much
+performance; born at Prague, 1607; died in England, 1677. This book contains
+twenty-six plates illustrating women’s dress in all ranks of life with absolute
+fidelity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._Livingstone.">GERTRUDE SCHUYLER LIVINGSTONE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Second wife and widow of Robert Livingstone. The curiously plaited widow’s cap
+can be seen under her hood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._Magdalen_Beekman.">MRS. MAGDALEN BEEKMAN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Died in New York in 1730. Widow of Gerardus Beekman, who died in 1723.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Lady_Anne_Clifford.">LADY ANNE CLIFFORD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1590. Daughter of George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland. Painted in 1603.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Lady_Herrman.">LADY HERRMAN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of Bohemia Manor, Maryland. Wife of a pioneer settler. From <i>Some Colonial
+Mansions</i>. Published by Henry T. Coates &amp; Co.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Elizabeth_Cromwell.">ELIZABETH CROMWELL</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mother of Oliver Cromwell. She died at Whitehall in 1654, aged 90 years. This
+portrait is at Hinchinbrook, and is owned by the Earl of Sandwich. It was
+painted by Robert Walker. Her dress is described as “a green velvet cardinal,
+trimmed with gold lace.” Her hood is white satin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Pocahontas.">POCAHONTAS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Daughter of Powhatan, and wife of Mr. Thomas Rolfe. Born 1593; died 1619; aged
+twenty-one when this was painted. The portrait is owned by a member of the
+Rolfe family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Duchess_of_Buckingham_and_her_Two_Children.">DUCHESS OF BUCKINGHAM
+AND CHILDREN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Painted in 1626 by Gerard Honthorst. In the original the Duke of Buckingham is
+also upon the canvas. He was George Villiers, the “Steenie” of James I, who was
+assassinated by John Felton. The duchess was the daughter of the Earl of
+Rutland. The little daughter was afterwards Duchess of Richmond and Lenox. The
+baby was George, the second Duke of Buckingham, poet, politician, courtier, the
+friend of Charles II. The picture is now in the National Portrait Gallery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#AWomansDoubletMrsAnneTurner">A WOMAN’S DOUBLET</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Worn by the infamous Mrs. Anne Turner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#A_Puritan_Dame.">A PURITAN DAME</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Plate from <i>Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Penelope_Winslow.">PENELOPE WINSLOW</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Painted in 1651. Dress dull olive; mantle bright red; pearl necklace, ear-rings
+and pearl bandeau in hair. The hair is curled as the hair in portraits of Queen
+Henrietta Maria. In Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Gold-fringed_Gloves_of_Governor_Leverett.">GOLD-FRINGED GLOVES OF
+GOVERNOR LEVERETT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Embroidered_Petticoat_Band.">EMBROIDERED PETTICOAT-BAND, 1750</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bright-colored crewels on linen. Owned by the Misses Manning of Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Blue_Brocade_Gown_and_Quilted_Satin_Petticoat.">BLUE DAMASK GOWN AND
+QUILTED SATIN PETTICOAT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These were owned by Mrs. James Lovell, who was born 1735; died, 1817. Through
+her only daughter, Mrs. Pickard, who died in 1812, they came to her only child,
+Mary Pickard (Mrs. Henry Ware, Jr.), whose heirs now own them. They are in the
+keeping of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#A_Plain_Jerkin.">A PLAIN JERKIN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This portrait is of Martin Frobisher, hero of the Armada; explorer in 1576,
+1577, and 1578 for the Northwestern Passage, and discoverer of Frobisher’s Bay.
+He died in 1594.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#A_Doublet.">CLOTH DOUBLET</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This portrait is of Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire. Owned by the Duke of
+Bedford. It shows a plain cloth doublet with double row of turreted welts at
+the shoulder. Horace Walpole says of this portrait, “He is quite in the style
+of Queen Elizabeth’s lovers; red-bearded, and not comely.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#JAMES_DUKE_OF_YORK">JAMES, DUKE OF YORK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1633. Afterwards James II of England. This scene in a tennis-court was
+painted about 1643.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#An_Embroidered_Jerkin.">EMBROIDERED JERKIN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This portrait is of George Carew, Earl of Totnes. It was painted by Zucchero,
+and is owned by the Earl of Verulam. He wears a rich jerkin with four laps on
+each side below the belt; it is embroidered in sprigs, and guarded on the
+seams. The sleeves are detached. He wears also a rich sword-belt and ruff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#John_Lilburne.">JOHN LILBURNE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Greenwich, Eng., in 1614; died in 1659. A Puritan soldier, politician,
+and pamphleteer. He was fined, whipped, pilloried, tried for treason, sedition,
+controversy, libel. He was imprisoned in the Tower, Newgate, Tyburn, and the
+Castle. He was a Puritan till he turned Quaker. His sprawling boots, dangling
+knee-points, and silly little short doublet form a foolish dress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Colonel_William_Legge.">COLONEL WILLIAM LEGGE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in 1609. Died in 1672. He was a stanch Royalist. His portrait is by Jacob
+Huysmans, and is in the National Portrait Gallery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#205">SIR THOMAS ORCHARD KNIGHT, 1646</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From an old print indorsed “S Glover ad vivum delineavit 1646.” He is in
+characteristic court-dress, with slashed sleeves, laced cloak, laced garters,
+and shoe-roses. His hair and beard are like those of Charles II.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#The_English_Antick.">THE ENGLISH ANTICK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From a broadside of 1646.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#George_I.">GEORGE I OF ENGLAND</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Hanover, 1660. Died in Hanover, 1727. Crowned King of England in 1714.
+This portrait is by Sir Godfrey Kneller, and is in the National Portrait
+Gallery. It is remarkable for its ribbons and curious shoes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Three_Cassock_Sleeves_and_a_Buff-coat_Sleeve.">THREE CASSOCK SLEEVES
+AND A BUFF-COAT SLEEVE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<i>Temp</i>. Charles I. The first sleeve is from a portrait of Lord Bedford.
+The second, with shoulder-knot of ribbon, was worn by Algernon Sidney; the
+third is from a Van Dyck portrait of Viscount Grandison; the fourth, the sleeve
+of a curiously slashed buff-coat worn by Sir Philip Sidney.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#HenryBennetEarlofArlington">HENRY BENNET, EARL OF ARLINGTON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1618; died, 1685. From the original by Sir Peter Lely. This is asserted
+to be the costume chosen by Charles II in 1661 “to wear forever.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Funeral_Procession.">FIGURES FROM FUNERAL PROCESSION OF THE DUKE OF
+ALBEMARLE IN 1670</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These drawings of “Gentlemen,” “Earls,” “Clergymen,” “Physicians,” and “Poor
+Men” are by F. Sanford, Lancaster Herald, and are from his engraving of the
+Funeral Procession of George Monk, Duke of Albemarle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Earl_of_Southampton.">EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, HENRY WRIOTHESLEY.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1573. Died in The Netherlands in 1624. He was the friend of Shakespere,
+and governor of the Virginia Company. This portrait is by Mierevelt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#A_Bowdoin_Portrait">A BOWDOIN PORTRAIT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This fine portrait is by a master’s hand. The name of the subject is unknown.
+The initials would indicate that he was a Bowdoin, or a Baudouine, which was
+the name of the original emigrant. It has been owned by the Bowdoin family
+until it was presented to Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Me., where it now hangs
+in the Walker Art Building.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#William_Pyncheon.">WILLIAM PYNCHEON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1590; died, 1670. This portrait was painted in 1657. It is in an unusual
+dress, with the only double row of buttons I have seen on a portrait of that
+date. It also shows no hair under the close cap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Reverend_Jonathan_Edwards.">JONATHAN EDWARDS, D.D.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, Windsor, Conn., 1703. Died, Princeton, N.J., 1758. A theologian,
+metaphysician, missionary, author, and president of Princeton University.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Captain_George_Curwen.">GEORGE CURWEN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in England, 1610; died in Salem, 1685. He came to Salem in 1638, where he
+was the most prominent merchant, and commanded a troop of horse, whereby he
+acquired his title of Captain. He is in military dress. Portrait owned by Essex
+Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Lace_Gorget_and_Cane">WALKING-STICK AND LACE FRILL, 1660</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These articles are in the Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_Coddington.">WILLIAM CODDINGTON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Leicestershire, Eng., 1601; died in Rhode Island, 1678. One of the
+founders of the Rhode Island Colony, and governor for many years.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Thomas_Fayerweather.">THOMAS FAYERWEATHER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1692; died, 1733, in Boston. Married, in 1718, Hannah Waldo, sister of
+Brigadier-general Samuel Waldo. This portrait is by Smybcrt. It is owned by his
+descendants, Miss Elizabeth L. Bond and Miss Catherine Harris Bond, of
+Cambridge, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#KingCarterinYouthbySirGodfreyKneller">“KING” CARTER IN YOUTH</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#City_Flat-cap">CITY FLAT-CAP</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Worn by “Bilious” Bale, who died in 1563. His square beard, coif, and citizen’s
+flat-cap were worn by Englishmen till 1620.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#King_James_I_of_England.">KING JAMES I OF ENGLAND</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This portrait was painted before he was king of England. It is now in the
+National Portrait Gallery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#FulkeGrevilleLordBrooke">FULKE GREVILLE, LORD BROOKE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In doublet, with curious slashed tabs or bands at the waist, forming a roll
+like a woman’s farthingale. The hat, with jewelled hat-band, is of a singular
+and ugly shape.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#JamesDouglasEarlofMorton">JAMES DOUGLAS, EARL OF MORTON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His hat, band, and jerkin are unusual.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Elihu_Yale.">ELIHU YALE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Boston, Mass., in 1648. Died in England in 1721. He founded Yale
+College, now Yale University. This portrait is owned by Yale University, New
+Haven, Conn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Thomas_Cecil">THOMAS CECIL, FIRST EARL OF EXETER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Died in 1621.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Cornelius_Steinwyck.">CORNELIUS STEINWYCK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The wealthiest merchant of New Amsterdam in the seventeenth century. This
+portrait is owned by the New York Historical Society.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Hat_with_a_Glove_as_a_Favor.">HAT WITH GLOVE AS A FAVOR</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From portrait of George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland. He died in 1605.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Gulielma_Penn.">GULIELMA SPRINGETT PENN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+First wife of William Penn. Born, 1644; died, 1694. The original painting is on
+glass. Owned by the heirs of Henry Swan, Dorking, Eng.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Hannah_Callowhill_Penn.">HANNAH CALLOWHILL PENN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Second wife of William Penn; from a portrait now in Blackwell Hall, County
+Durham, Eng.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Madame_de_Miramion.">MADAME DE MIRAMION</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1629; died in Paris, 1696.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#The_Strawberry_Girl.">THE STRAWBERRY GIRL</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From Tempest’s <i>Cries of London</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Black_Silk_Hood.">OPERA HOOD, OR CARDINAL, OF BLACK SILK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is now in Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Quilted_Hood.">QUILTED HOOD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Miss Mary Atkinson of Doylestown, Pa.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Pink_Silk_Hood.">PINK SILK HOOD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Miss Alice Browne of Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Pug_Hood.">PUG HOOD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Miss Alice Browne of Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Scarlet_Broadcloth_Hooded_Cloak.">SCARLET CLOAK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This fine broadcloth cloak and hood were worn by Judge Curwen. They are in
+perfect preservation, owing, in later years, to the excellent care given them
+by their present owner, Miss Bessie Curwen, of Salem, Mass., a descendant of
+the original owner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Judge_Stoughton.">JUDGE STOUGHTON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#WomansCloakFromHogarth">WOMAN’S CLOAK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From Hogarth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#A_Capuchin._From_Hogarth.">A CAPUCHIN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From Hogarth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Lady_Caroline_Montagu.">LADY CAROLINE MONTAGU</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Daughter of Duke of Buccleuch. Painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds in 1776.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#John_Quincy.">JOHN QUINCY</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1686. This portrait is owned by Brooks Adams, Esq., Boston, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#MissCampion1667">Miss CAMPION</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From Andrew W. Tuer’s <i>History of the Hornbook</i>. This portrait has hung
+for two centuries in an Essex manor-house. Its date, 1661, is but nine years
+earlier than the portraits of the Gibbes children, and the dress is the same.
+The cavalier hat and cuffs are the only varying detail.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#InfantsCap">INFANT’S CAP</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Tambour work, 1790.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Eleanor_Foster._1755.">ELEANOR FOSTER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1746. She married Dr. Nathaniel Coffin, of Portland, Me., and became the
+mother of the beautiful Martha, who married Richard C. Derby. This portrait was
+painted in 1755. It is owned by Mrs. Greely Stevenson Curtis of Boston, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#311">WILLIAM, PRINCE OF ORANGE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From an old print.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._Theodore_Sedgwick_and_Daughter.">MRS. THEODORE S. SEDGWICK AND
+DAUGHTER.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Sedgwick was Pamela Dwight. This portrait was painted by Ralph Earle, and
+exhibits one of his peculiarities. The home of the subject of the portrait is
+shown through an open window, though the immediate surroundings are a room
+within the house. The child is Catherine M. Sedgwick, the poet. This painting
+is owned in Stockbridge by members of the family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Infant_Child_of_Francis_Hopkinson">INFANT CHILD OF FRANCIS HOPKINSON,
+THE SIGNER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A drawing in crayon by the child’s father. The child carries a coral and bells.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#MarySeton1763">MARY SETON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+1763. Died in 1800, aged forty. Married John Wilkes of New York. White frock
+and blue scarf.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#The_Bowdoin_Children.">THE BOWDOIN CHILDREN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lady Temple and Governor James Bowdoin in childhood. The artist of this
+pleasing portrait is unknown. I think it was painted by Blackburn. It is now in
+the Walker Art Gallery, at Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Miss_Lydia_Robinson">Miss LYDIA ROBINSON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aged twelve years, daughter of Colonel James Robinson, Salem, Mass. Painted by
+M. Corné in 1808. Owned by the Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Knitted_Flaxen_Mittens.">KNITTED FLAXEN MITTENS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These are knitted upon finest wire needles, of linen thread, which had been
+spun, and the flax raised and prepared by the knitter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._Elizabeth_Lux_Russell_and_Daughter">MRS. ELIZABETH (LUX) RUSSELL
+AND DAUGHTER.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Christening_Shirt_and_Mitts_of_Governor_Bradford">CHRISTENING SHIRT
+AND MITTS OF GOVERNOR BRADFORD.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+White linen with pinched sleeves and chaney ruffles and fingertips. Owned by
+Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Flanders_Lace_Mitts.">FLANDERS LACE MITTS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These infant’s mitts were worn in the sixteenth century, and came to Salem with
+the first emigrants. Owned by Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#InfantsAdjustableCap">INFANT’S ADJUSTABLE CAP</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This has curious shirring-strings to make it fit heads of various sizes. It is
+home spun and woven, and the lace edging is home knit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Rev._J.P._Dabney_when_a_Child.">REV. JOHN P. DABNEY, WHEN A CHILD IN
+1806</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This portrait of a Salem minister in childhood is in jacket and trousers, with
+openwork collar and ruffles. It is now owned by the Essex Institute, Salem,
+Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Robert_Gibbes.">ROBERT GIBBES</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1665. This portrait is dated 1670. It is owned by Miss Sarah B. Hager of
+Kendal Green, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Nankeen_Breeches_with_Silver_Buttons.">NANKEEN BREECHES, WITH SILVER
+BUTTONS. 1790</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Ralph_Izard_when_a_Little_Boy._1750.">RALPH IZARD, WHEN A LITTLE
+BOY</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Charleston, S. C., 1742; died in 1804. Painted in 1750. He was United
+States Senator 1789-1795. This debonair little figure in blue velvet,
+silk-embroidered waistcoat, silken hose, buckled shoes, and black hat,
+gold-laced, is a miniature courtier. The portrait is now owned by William E.
+Huger, Esq., of Charleston, S.C.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_and_Reverend_Gurdon_Saltonstall.">GOVERNOR AND REVEREND
+GURDON SALTONSTALL</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in 1666; died in 1724. Governor of Connecticut, 1708-24. He was also
+ordained a minister of the church at New London.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mayor_Rip_Van_Dam.">MAYOR RIP VAN DAM</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mayor of New York in 1710.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Abraham_De_Peyster.">JUDGE ABRAHAM DE PEYSTER OF NEW YORK</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Governor_De_Bienville.">GOVERNOR DE BIENVILLE, JEAN BAPTISTE
+LEMOINE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Montreal, Can., 1680. Died in 1768. French Governor of Louisiana for
+many years. He founded New Orleans. The original is in Longeuil, Can.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Daniel_Waldo.">DANIEL WALDO</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Boston, 1724; died in 1808. Married Rebecca Salisbury.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Reverend_John_Marsh.">REV. JOHN MARSH, HARTFORD, CONN</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#John_Adams_in_Youth.">JOHN ADAMS IN YOUTH</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Braintree, Mass., 1735; died at Quincy, Mass., 1826. Second President
+of the United States, 1797-1801. He was a member of Congress, signer of
+Declaration of Independence, Commissioner to France, Ambassador to The
+Netherlands, Peace Commissioner to Great Britain, Minister to Court of St.
+James. This portrait in youth is in a wig. Throughout life he wore his hair
+bushed out at the ears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#JonathanEdwards2nd">JONATHAN EDWARDS, D.D.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in 1745; died in 1801. He was a son of the great Jonathan Edwards, and was
+President of Union College, Schenectady, 1799-1801. This portrait shows the
+fashion of dressing the hair when wigs and powder had been banished and the
+hair hung lank and long in the neck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Patrick_Henry.">PATRICK HENRY</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in Virginia, 1736; died in Charlotte County, Va., in 1799. An orator,
+patriot, and a leader in the American Revolution. He organized the Committees
+of Correspondence, was a member of Continental Congress, 1774, of the Virginia
+Convention, 1775, and was governor of Virginia for several terms. This portrait
+shows him in lawyer’s close wig and robe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#KingCarterDied1732">“KING” CARTER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Died, 1732.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Judge_Benjamin_Lynde.">JUDGE BENJAMIN LYNDE, OF SALEM AND BOSTON,
+MASS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Died, 1745. Painted by Smybert.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#John_Rutledge.">JOHN RUTLEDGE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, Charleston, S.C., 1739; died, 1800. He was member of Congress, governor
+of South Carolina, chief justice of Supreme Court. His hair is tied in cue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#CampaignRamilliesBobandPigtailWigs">CAMPAIGN, RAMILLIES, BOB, AND
+PIGTAIL WIGS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Rev._William_Welsteed.">REV. WILLIAM WELSTEED</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From an engraving by Copley, his only engraving.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Thomas_Hopkinson.">THOMAS HOPKINSON</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in London, 1709. Came to America in 1731. Married Mary Johnson in 1736.
+Made Judge of the Admiralty in 1741. Died in 1751. He was the father of Francis
+the Signer. This portrait is believed to be by Sir Godfrey Kneller.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Reverend_Dr._Barnard">REV. DR. BARNARD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A Connecticut clergyman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Andrew_Ellicott.">ANDREW ELLICOTT</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1754; died, 1820. A Maryland gentleman of wealth and position.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#HerbertWestphalingBishopofHereford">HERBERT WESTPHALING</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bishop of Hereford, Eng.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#The_Herald_Vandum.">HERALD CORNELIUS VANDUM.</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born, 1483; died, 1577, aged ninety-four years. Yeoman of the Guard and usher
+to Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary, and Elizabeth. His beard is unique.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Scotch_Beard.">SCOTCH BEARD</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Worn by Alexander Ross, 1655.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Dr._William_Slater._Cathedral_Beard.">DR. WILLIAM SLATER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cathedral beard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Dr._John_Dee._1600.">DR. JOHN DEE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Born in London, 1527; died, 1608. An English mathematician, astrologer,
+physician, author, and magician. He wrote seventy-nine books, mostly on magic.
+His “pique-a-devant” beard might well “a man’s eye out-pike.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Iron_and_Leather_Pattens._1760.">IRON AND LEATHER PATTENS, 1760</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by author.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#OakIronandLeatherClogs1790">OAK, IRON, AND LEATHER CLOGS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In Museum of Bucks County Historical Society, Penn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#English_Clogs.">ENGLISH CLOGS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#ChopinesSeventeenthCentury">CHOPINES</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Drawing from Chopines in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. The tallest chopine had
+a sole about nine inches thick.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#BridesClogsofBrocadeandSoleLeather">WEDDING CLOGS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These clogs are of silk brocade, and were made to match brocade slippers. The
+one with pointed toe would fit the brocaded shoes of the year 1760. The other
+has with it a high-heeled, black satin slipper of the year 1780, to show how
+they were worn. They forced a curious shuffling step.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#ClogsofPennsylvaniaDutch">CLOGS OF PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#ChildrensClogs1730">CHILD’S CLOGS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+About 1780. Owned by Bucks County Historical Society.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#The_Copley_Family_Picture.">COPLEY FAMILY PICTURE</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This group, consisting of the artist, John Singleton Copley, his wife, who was
+formerly a young widow, Susannah Farnham; his wife’s father, Richard Clarke, a
+most respected Boston merchant who was wealthy until ruined by the War of the
+Revolution; and the four little Copley children. Elizabeth is between four and
+five; John Singleton, Jr., is the boy of three, who afterwards became Lord
+Lyndhurst; Mary is aged two, and an infant is in the grandfather’s arms. Copley
+was born in 1737, and must have been about thirty-seven when this was painted
+in 1775. It is deemed by many his masterpiece. The portrait is owned by Mr.
+Amory, but is now in the custody of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. It is most
+pronounced, almost startling, in color, every tint being absolutely frank.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Wedding_Slippers_and_Brocade._1712.">WEDDING SLIPPERS AND BROCADE
+STRIP, 1712</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Mrs. Thomas Robinson Harris, of Scarboro on the Hudson, N.Y.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Jack-boots._Owned_by_Lord_Fairfax_of_Virginia.">JACK-BOOTS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Joshua_Warner.">JOSHUA WARNER</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A Portsmouth gentleman. This portrait is now in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Shoe_and_Knee_Buckles.">SHOE AND KNEE BUCKLES</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They are shoe-buckles, breeches-buckles, garter-buckles, stock-buckles. Some
+are cut silver and gold; others are cut steel; some are paste. Some of these
+were owned by Dr. Edward Holyoke, of Salem, and are now owned by Miss Susan W.
+Osgood, of Salem, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Wedding_Slippers.">WEDDING SLIPPERS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Worn in 1760 by granddaughter of Governor Simon Bradstreet. Owned by Miss Mary
+S. Cleveland, of Salem, Mass. Their make and finish are curious; they have
+paste buckles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Mrs._Abigail_Bromfield_Rogers.">ABIGAIL BROMFIELD ROGERS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Painted by Copley in Europe. Owned by Miss Annette Rogers, of Boston, Mass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#MrsCarrollsSlippers">SLIPPERS</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Worn by Mrs. Carroll with the brocade silk sacque. They are embroidered in the
+colors of the brocade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#White_Kid_Slippers._1815.">WHITE KID SLIPPERS, 1810</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Owned by author.
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 35%;" />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Deep-skirted doublets, puritanic capes<br/>
+Which now would render men like upright apes<br/>
+Was comelier wear, our wiser fathers thought<br/>
+Than the cast fashions from all Europe brought”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“New England’s Crisis,” BENJAMIN TOMPSON, 1675.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“I am neither Niggard nor Cynic to the due Bravery of the true
+Gentry.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“The simple Cobbler of Agawam,” J. WARD, 1713.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“Never was it happier in England than when an Englishman was known abroad by
+his own cloth; and contented himself at home with his fine russet carsey hosen,
+and a warm slop; his coat, gown, and cloak of brown, blue or putre, with some
+pretty furnishings of velvet or fur, and a doublet of sad-tawnie or black
+velvet or comely silk, without such cuts and gawrish colours as are worn in
+these dayes by those who think themselves the gayest men when they have most
+diversities of jagges and changes of colours.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Chronicles,” HOLINSHED, 1578.<br/>
+<br/>
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="95" height="92" src="images/initiali.jpg" alt="I" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+t is difficult to discover the reasons, to trace the influences which have
+resulted in the production in the modern mind of that composite figure which
+serves to the everyday reader, the heedless observer, as the counterfeit
+presentment of the New England colonist,—the Boston Puritan or Plymouth
+Pilgrim. We have a very respectable notion, a fairly true picture, of Dutch
+patroon, Pennsylvania Quaker, and Virginia planter; but we see a very unreal
+New Englishman. This “gray old Gospeller, sour as midwinter,” appears with
+goodwife or dame in the hastily drawn illustrations of our daily press; we find
+him outlined with greater care but equal inaccuracy in our choicer periodical
+literature; we have him depicted by artists in our handsome books and on the
+walls of our art museums; he is cut in stone and cast in bronze for our halls
+and parks; he is dressed by actors for a part in some historical play; he is
+furbished up with conglomerate and makeshift garments by enthusiastic and
+confident young folk in tableau and fancy-dress party; he is richly and amply
+attired by portly, self-satisfied members of our patriotic-hereditary
+societies; we constantly see these figures garbed in semblance in some details,
+yet never in verisimilitude as a whole figure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We are wont to think of our Puritan forbears, indeed we are determined to think
+of them, garbed in sombre sad-colored garments, in a life devoid of color,
+warmth, or fragrance. But sad color was not dismal and dull save in name; it
+was brown in tone, and brown is warm, and being a primitive color is, like many
+primitive things, cheerful. Old England was garbed in hearty honest russet,
+even in the days of our colonization. Read the list of the garments of any
+master of the manor, of the honest English yeoman, of our own sturdy English
+emigrants from manor and farm in Suffolk and Essex. What did they wear across
+seas? What did they wear in the New World? What they wore in England, namely:
+Doublets of leathers, all brown in tint; breeches of various tanned skins and
+hides; untanned leather shoes; jerkins of “filomot” or “phillymort” (feuille
+morte), dead-leaf color; buff-coats of fine buff leather; tawny camlet cloaks
+and jackets of “du Boys” (which was wood color); russet hose; horseman’s coats
+of tan-colored linsey-woolsey or homespun ginger-lyne or brown perpetuana;
+fawn-colored mandillions and deer-colored cassocks—all brown; and sometimes a
+hat of natural beaver. Here is a “falding” doublet of “treen color”—and what is
+treen but wooden and wood color is brown again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a fitting dress for their conditions of life. The colonists lived close
+to nature—they touched the beginnings of things; and we are close to nature
+when all dress in russet. The homely “butternuts” of the Kentucky mountains
+express this; so too does khaki, a good, simple native dye and stuff; so
+eagerly welcomed, so closely cherished, as all good and primitive things should
+be.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_John_Endicott"></a>
+<img src="images/020.jpg" width="379" height="453" alt="[Illustration: Governor
+John Endicott]" />
+<p class="caption">Governor John Endicott
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+So when I think of my sturdy Puritan forbears in the summer planting of Salem
+and of Boston, I see them in “honest russet kersey”; gay too with the bright
+stamell-red of their waistcoats and the grain-red linings of mandillions;
+scarlet-capped are they, and enlivened with many a great scarlet-hooded cloak.
+I see them in this attire on shipboard, where they were greeted off Salem with
+“a smell from the shore like the smell of a garden”; I see them landing in
+happy June amid “sweet wild strawberries and fair single roses.” I see them
+walking along the little lanes and half-streets in which for many years
+bayberry and sweet-fern lingered in dusty fragrant clumps by the roadside.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Scented with Cædar and Sweet Fern<br/>
+From Heats reflection dry,”
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+wrote of that welcoming shore one colonist who came on the first ship, and
+noted in rhyme what he found and saw and felt and smelt. And I see the
+forefathers standing under the hot little cedar trees of the Massachusetts
+coast, not sober in sad color, but cheery in russet and scarlet; and sweetbrier
+and strawberries, bayberry and cedar, smell sweetly and glow genially in that
+summer sunlight which shines down on us through all these two centuries.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have ample sources from which to learn precisely what was worn by these
+first colonists—men and women—gentle and simple. We have minute “Lists of
+Apparell” furnished by the Colonization Companies to the male colonists; we
+have also ample lists of apparel supplied to individual emigrants of varied
+degree; we have inventories in detail of the personal estates of all those who
+died in the colonies even in the earliest years—inventories wherein even a
+half-worn pair of gloves is gravely set down, appraised in value, sworn to, and
+entered in the town records; we have wills giving equal minuteness; we have
+even the articles of dress themselves preserved from moth and rust and mildew;
+we have private letters asking that supplies of clothing be sent across
+seas—clothing substantial and clothing fashionable; we have ships’ bills of
+lading showing that these orders were carried out; we have curiously minute
+private letters giving quaint descriptions and hints of new and modish wearing
+apparel; we have sumptuary laws telling what articles of clothing must not be
+worn by those of mean estate; we have court records showing trials under these
+laws; we have ministers’ sermons denouncing excessive details of fashion,
+enumerating and almost describing the offences; and we have also a goodly
+number of portraits of men and a few of women. I give in this chapter excellent
+portraits of the first governors, Endicott, Winthrop, Bradstreet, Winslow; and
+others could be added. Having all these, do we need fashion-plates or magazines
+of the modes? We have also for the early years great instruction through
+comparison and inference in knowing the English fashions of those dates as
+revealed through inventories, compotuses, accounts, diaries, letters,
+portraits, prints, carvings, and effigies; and American fashions varied little
+from English ones.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_Edward_Winslow."></a>
+<img src="images/022.jpg" width="370" height="466" alt="[Illustration: Governor
+Edward Winslow]" />
+<p class="caption">Governor Edward Winslow.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It is impossible to disassociate the history of costume from the general
+history of the country where such dress is worn. Nor could any one write upon
+dress with discrimination and balance unless he knew thoroughly the dress of
+all countries and likewise the history of all countries. Of the special
+country, he must know more than general history, for the relations of small
+things to great things are too close. Influences apparently remote prove vital.
+At no time was history told in dress, and at no period was dress influenced by
+historical events more than during the seventeenth century and in the dress of
+English-speaking folk. The writer on dress should know the temperament and
+character of the dress wearer; this was of special bearing in the seventeenth
+century. It would be thought by any one ignorant of the character of the first
+Puritan settlers, and indifferent to or ignorant of historical facts, that in a
+new world with all the hardships, restraints, lacks, and inconveniences, no
+one, even the vainest woman, would think much upon dress, save that it should
+be warm, comfortable, ample, and durable. But, in truth, such was not the case.
+Even in the first years the settlers paid close attention to their attire, to
+its richness, its elegance, its modishness, and watched narrowly also the
+attire of their neighbors, not only from a distinct liking for dress, but from
+a careful regard of social distinctions and from a regard for the proprieties
+and relations of life. Dress was a badge of rank, of social standing and
+dignity; and class distinctions were just as zealously guarded in America, the
+land of liberty, as in England. The Puritan church preached simplicity of
+dress; but the church attendants never followed that preaching. All believed,
+too, that dress had a moral effect, as it certainly does; that to dress orderly
+and well and convenable to the existing fashions helped to preserve the morals
+of the individual and general welfare of the community. Eagerly did the
+settlers seek every year, every season, by every incoming ship, by every
+traveller, to learn the changes of fashions in Europe. The first native-born
+poet, Benjamin Tompson, is quoted in the heading of this chapter in a wail over
+thus following new fashions, a wail for the “good old times,” as has been the
+cry of “old fogy” poets and philosophers since the days of the ancient
+classics.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have ample proof of the love of dignity, of form, of state, which dominated
+even in the first struggling days; we can see the governor of Virginia when he
+landed, turning out his entire force in most formal attire and with full
+company of forty halberdiers in scarlet cloaks to attend in imposing procession
+the church services in the poor little church edifice—this when the settlement
+at Jamestown was scarce more than an encampment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We can read the words of Winthrop, the governor of Massachusetts, in which he
+recounts his mortification at the undignified condition of affairs when the
+governor of the French province, the courtly La Tour, landed unexpectedly in
+Boston and caught the governor picnicking peacefully with his family on an
+island in the harbor, with no attendants, no soldiers, no dignitaries. Nor was
+there any force in the fort, and therefore no salute could be given to the
+distinguished visitors; and still more mortifying was the sole announcement of
+this important arrival through the hurried sail across the bay, and the running
+to the governor of a badly scared woman neighbor. We see Winthrop trying to
+recover his dignity in La Tour’s eyes (and in his own) by bourgeoning
+throughout the remainder of the French governor’s stay with an imposing guard
+of soldiers in formal attendance at every step he took abroad; ordering them to
+wear, I am sure, their very fullest stuffed doublets and shiniest armor, while
+he displayed his best black velvet suit of garments. Fortunately for New
+England’s appearance, Winthrop was a man of such aristocratic bearing and
+feature that no dress or lack of dress could lower his dignity.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_John_Winthrop."></a>
+<img src="images/026.jpg" alt="Governor John Winthrop." />
+<p class="caption">Governor John Winthrop.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Our forbears did not change their dress by emigrating; they may have worn
+heavier clothing in New England, more furs, stronger shoes, but I cannot find
+that they adopted simpler or less costly clothing; any change that may have
+been made through Puritan belief and teaching had been made in England. All the
+colonists
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“ ... studied after nyce array,<br/>
+And made greet cost in clothing.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many persons preferred to keep their property in the form of what they quaintly
+called “duds.” The fashion did not wear out more apparel than the man; for
+clothing, no matter what its cut, was worn as long as it lasted, doing service
+frequently through three generations. For instance, we find Mrs. Epes, of
+Ipswich, Massachusetts, when she was over fifty years old, receiving this
+bequest by will: “If she desire to have the suit of damask which was the Lady
+Cheynies her grandmother, let her have it upon appraisement.” I have traced a
+certain flowered satin gown and “manto” in four wills; a dame to her daughter;
+she to her sister; then to the child of the last-named who was a granddaughter
+of the first owner. And it was a proud possession to the last. The fashions and
+shapes then did not change yearly. The Boston gentlewoman of 1660 would not
+have been ill dressed or out of the mode in the dress worn by her grandmother
+when she landed in 1625.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Petty details were altered in woman’s dress—though but slightly; the change of
+a cap, a band, a scarf, a ruffle, meant much to the wearer, though it seems
+unimportant to us to-day. Men’s dress, we know from portraits, was unaltered
+for a time save in neckwear and hair-dressing, both being of such importance in
+costume that they must be written upon at length.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us fix in our minds the limit of reign of each ruler during the early years
+of colonization, and the dates of settlement of each colony. When Elizabeth
+died in 1603, the Brownist Puritans or Separatists were well established in
+Holland; they had been there twenty years. They were dissatisfied with their
+Dutch home, however, and had had internal quarrels—one, of petty cause, namely,
+a “topish Hatt,” a “Schowish Hood,” a “garish spitz-fashioned Stomacher,” the
+vain garments of one woman; but the strife over these “abhominations” lasted
+eleven years.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+James I was king when the Pilgrims came to America in 1620; but Charles I was
+on the throne in 1630 when John Winthrop arrived with his band of friends and
+followers and settled in Salem and Boston.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The settlement of Portsmouth and Dover in New Hampshire was in 1623, and in
+Maine the same year. The settlements of the Dutch in New Netherland were in
+1614; while Virginia, named for Elizabeth, the Virgin Queen, and discovered in
+her day, was settled first of all at Jamestown in 1607. The Plymouth colony was
+poor. It came poor from Holland, and grew poorer through various misfortunes
+and set-backs—one being the condition of the land near Plymouth. The
+Massachusetts Bay Company was different. It came with properties estimated to
+be worth a million dollars, and it had prospered wonderfully after an opening
+year of want and distress. The relative social condition and means of the
+settlers of Jamestown, of Plymouth, of Boston, were carefully investigated from
+English sources by a thoughtful and fair authority, the historian Green. He
+says of the Boston settlers in his <i>Short History of the English People</i>:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Those Massachusetts settlers were not like the earlier colonists of the South;
+broken men, adventurers, bankrupts, criminals; or simply poor men and artisans
+like the Pilgrim Fathers of the <i>Mayflower</i>. They were in great part men
+of the professional and middle classes, some of them men of large landed
+estate, some zealous clergymen, some shrewd London lawyers or young scholars
+from Oxford. The bulk were God-fearing farmers from Lincolnshire and the
+Eastern counties.”<br/>
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A full comprehension of these differences in the colonies will make us
+understand certain conditions, certain surprises, as to dress; for instance,
+why so little of the extreme Puritan is found in the dress of the first Boston
+colonists.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There lived in England, near the close of Elizabeth’s reign, a Puritan named
+Philip Stubbes, to whom we are infinitely indebted for our knowledge of English
+dress of his times. It was also the dress of the colonists; for details of
+attire, especially of men’s wear, had not changed to any extent since the years
+in which and of which Philip Stubbes wrote.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He published in 1586 a book called <i>An Anatomie of Abuses</i>, in which he
+described in full the excesses of England in his day. He wrote with spirited,
+vivid pen, and in plain speech, leaving nothing unspoken lest it offend, and he
+used strong, racy English words and sentences. In his later editions he even
+took pains to change certain “strange, inkhorn terms” or complicate words of
+his first writing into simpler ones. Thus he changed <i>preter time</i> to
+<i>former ages; auditory</i> to <i>hearers; prostrated</i> to <i>humbled;
+consummate</i> to <i>ended</i>; and of course this was to the book’s advantage.
+Unusual words still linger, however, but we must believe they are not
+intentionally “outlandish” as was the term of the day for such words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The attitude of Stubbes toward dress and dress wearers is of great interest,
+for he was certainly one of the most severe, most determined, most
+conscientious of Puritans; yet his hatred of “corruptions desiring reformation”
+did not lead him to a hatred of dress in itself. He is careful to state in
+detail in the body of his book and in his preface that his attack is not upon
+the dress of people of wealth and station; that he approves of rich dress for
+the rich. His hatred is for the pretentious dress of the many men of low birth
+or of mean estate who lavish their all in dress ill suited to their station;
+and also his reproof is for swindling in dress materials and dress-making;
+against false weights and measures, adulterations and profits; in short,
+against abuses, not uses.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_Simon_Bradstreet."></a>
+<img src="images/030.jpg" alt="Governor Simon Bradstreet." />
+<p class="caption">Governor Simon Bradstreet.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+His words run thus explicitly:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Whereas I have spoken of the excesse in apparell, and of the Abuse of the same
+as wel in Men as in Women, generally I would not be so understood as though my
+speaches extended to any either noble honorable or worshipful; for I am farre
+from once thinking that any kind of sumptuous or gorgeous Attire is not to be
+worn of them; as I suppose them rather Ornaments in them than otherwise. And
+therefore when I speak of excesse of Apparel my meaning is of the inferiour
+sorte only who for the most parte do farre surpasse either noble honorable or
+worshipful, ruffling in Silks Velvets, Satens, Damaske, Taffeties, Gold Silver
+and what not; these bee the Abuses I speak of, these bee the Evills that I
+lament, and these bee the Persons my wordes doe concern.”<br/>
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+There was ample room for reformation from Stubbes’s point of view.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“There is such a confuse mingle mangle of apparell and such preponderous excess
+thereof, as every one is permitted to flaunt it out in what apparell he has
+himself or can get by anie kind of means. So that it is verie hard to know who
+is noble, who is worshipful, who is a gentleman, who is not; for you shall have
+those who are neither of the nobilytie, gentilitie, nor yeomanrie goe daylie in
+silks velvets satens damasks taffeties notwithstanding they be base by byrth,
+meane by estate and servyle by calling. This a great confusion, a general
+disorder. God bee mercyfull unto us.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This regard of dress was, I take it, the regard of the Puritan reformer in
+general; it was only excess in dress that was hated. This was certainly the
+estimate of the best of the Puritans, and it was certainly the belief of the
+New England Puritan. It would be thought, and was thought by some men, that in
+the New World liberty of religious belief and liberty of dress would be given
+to all. Not at all!—the Puritan magistrates at once set to work to show, by
+means of sumptuary laws, rules of town settlement, and laws as to Sunday
+observance and religious services, that nothing of the kind was expected or
+intended, or would be permitted willingly. No religious sects and denominations
+were welcome save the Puritans and allied forms—Brownists, Presbyterians,
+Congregationalists. For a time none other were permitted to hold services; no
+one could wear rich dress save gentlefolk, and folk of wealth or some
+distinction—as Stubbes said, “by being in some sort of office”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We shall find in the early pages of this book frequent references to Stubbes’s
+descriptions of articles of dress, but his own life has some bearing on his
+utterances; so let me bear testimony as to his character and to the absolute
+truth of his descriptions. He was held up in his own day to contempt by that
+miserable Thomas Nashe who plagiarized his title and helped his own dull book
+into popularity by calling it <i>The Anatomie of Absurdities</i>; and who
+further ran on against him in a still duller book, <i>An Almand for a
+Parrat</i>. He called Stubbes “A MarPrelate Zealot and Hypocrite” and Stubbes
+has been held up by others as a morose man having no family ties and no social
+instincts. He was in reality the tenderest of husbands to a modest, gentle,
+pious girl whom he married when she was but fourteen, and with whom he lived in
+ideal happiness until her death in child-birth when eighteen years old. He bore
+testimony to his happiness and her goodness in a loving but sad and trying book
+“intituled” <i>A Christiall Glasse for Christian Women</i>. It is a record of a
+life which was indeed pure as crystal; a life so retiring, so quiet, so
+composed, so unvarying, a life so remote from any gentlewoman’s life to day
+that it seems of another ether, another planet, as well as of another century.
+But it is useful for us to know it, notwithstanding its background of gloomy
+religionism and its air of unreality; for it helps us to understand the
+character of Puritan women and of Philip Stubbes. This fair young wife died in
+an ecstasy, her voice triumphant, her face radiant with visions of another and
+a glorious life. And yet she was not wholly happy in death; for she had a
+Puritan conscience, and she thought she <i>must</i> have offended God in some
+way. She had to search far indeed for the offence; and this was it—it would be
+absurd if it were not so true and so deep in its sentiment of regret. She and
+her husband had set their hearts too much in affection upon a little dog that
+they had loved well, and she found now that “it was a vanitye”; and she
+repented of it, and bade them bear the dog from her bedside. Knowing Stubbes’s
+love for this little dog (and knowing it must have been a spaniel, for they
+were then being well known and beloved and were called “Spaniel-gentles or
+comforters”—a wonderfully appropriate name), I do not much mind the fierce
+words with which he stigmatizes the vanity and extravagance of women. I have a
+strong belief too that if we knew the dress of his child-wife, we would find
+that he liked her bravely even richly attired, and that he acquired his
+wonderful mastery of every term and detail of women’s dress, every term of
+description, through a very uxorious regard of his wife’s apparel.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Sir_Richard_Saltonstall."></a>
+<img src="images/034.jpg" alt="Sir Richard Saltonstall." />
+<p class="caption">Sir Richard Saltonstall.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Of the absolute truth of every word in Stubbes’s accounts we have ample
+corroborative proof. He wrote in real earnest, in true zeal, for the reform of
+the foolery and extravagance he saw around him, not against imaginary evils.
+There is ample proof in the writings of his contemporaries—in Shakespere’s
+comparisons, in Harrison’s sensible <i>Description of England</i>, in Tom
+Coryat’s <i>Crudities</i>—and oddities—of the existence of this foolishness and
+extravagance. There is likewise ample proof in the sumptuary laws of
+Elizabeth’s day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It would have been the last thing the solemn Stubbes could have liked or have
+imagined, that he should have afforded important help to future writers upon
+costume, yet such is the case. For he described the dress of English men and
+women with as much precision as a modern reporter of the modes. No casual
+survey of dress could have furnished to him the detail of his description. It
+required much examination and inquiry, especially as to the minutiae of women’s
+dress. Therefore when I read his bitter pages (if I can forget the little pet
+spaniel) I have always a comic picture in my mind of a sour, morose, shocked
+old Puritan, “a meer, bitter, narrow-sould Puritan” clad in cloak and doublet,
+with great horn spectacles on nose, and ample note-book, penner, and ink-horn
+in hand, agonizingly though eagerly surveying the figure of one of his
+fashion-clad women neighbors, walking around her slowly, asking as he walked
+the name of this jupe, the price of that pinner, the stuff of this sleeve, the
+cut of this cap, groaning as he wrote it all down, yet never turning to squire
+or knight till every detail of her extravagance and “greet cost” is recorded.
+In spite of all his moralizing his quill pen had too sharp a point, his
+scowling forehead and fierce eyes too keen a power of vision ever to render to
+us a dull page; even the author of <i>Wimples and Crisping Pins</i> might envy
+his powers of perception and description.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The bravery of the Jacobean gallant did not differ in the main from his dress
+under Elizabeth; but in details he found some extravagances. The love-locks
+became more prominent, and shoe-roses and garters both grew in size. Pomanders
+were carried by men and women, and “casting-bottles.” Gloves and pockets were
+perfumed. As musk was the favorite scent this perfume-wearing is not
+over-alluring. As a preventive of the plague all perfumes were valued.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Since a hatred and revolt against this excess was one of the conditions which
+positively led to the formation of the Puritan political party if not of the
+Separatist religious faith, and as a consequence to the settlement of the
+English colonies in America, let us recount the conditions of dress in England
+when America was settled. Let us regard first the dress of a courtier whose
+name is connected closely and warmly in history and romance with the
+colonization of America; a man who was hated by the Pilgrim and Puritan fathers
+but whose dress in some degree and likeness, though modified and simplified,
+must have been worn by the first emigrants to Virginia across seas—let us look
+at the portrait of Sir Walter Raleigh. He was a hero and a scholar, but he was
+also a courtier; and of a court, too, where every court-attendant had to
+bethink himself much and ever of dress, for dress occupied vastly the thought
+and almost wholly the public conversation of his queen and her successor.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Sir_Walter_Raleigh."></a>
+<img src="images/037.jpg" alt="Sir Walter Raleigh." />
+<p class="caption">Sir Walter Raleigh.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+To understand Raleigh’s dress, you must know the man and his life; to
+comprehend its absurdities and forgive its follies and see whence it
+originated, you must know Elizabeth and her dress; you must see her with
+“oblong face, eyes small, yet black; her nose a little hooked, her lips narrow,
+her teeth black; false hair and that red,”—these are the striking and plain
+words of the German ambassador to her court. You must look at this queen with
+her colorless meagre person lost in a dress monstrous in size, yet hung, even
+in its enormous expanse of many square yards, with crowded ornaments, tags,
+jewels, laces, embroideries, gimp, feathers, knobs, knots, and aglets, with
+these bedizened rankly, embellished richly. You must see her talking in public
+of buskins and gowns, love-locks and virginals, anything but matters of
+seriousness or of state; you must note her at a formal ceremonial tickling
+handsome Dudley in the neck; watch her dancing, “most high and disposedly” when
+in great age; you must see her giving Essex a hearty boxing of the ear; hear
+her swearing at her ministers. You must remember, too, her parents, her
+heritage. From King Henry VIII came her love of popularity, her great activity,
+her extraordinary self-confidence, her indomitable will, her outbursts of
+anger, her cruelty, just as came her harsh, mannish voice. From her mother,
+Anne Boleyn, came her sensuous love of pleasure, of dress, of flattery, of
+gayety and laughter. Her nature came from her mother, her temper from her
+father. The familiarity with Robert Dudley was but a piece with her boisterous
+romps in her girlhood, and her flap in the face of young Talbot when he saw her
+“unready in my night-stuff.” But she had more in her than came from Henry and
+Anne; she had her own individuality, which made her as hard as steel, made her
+resolute, made her live frugally and work hard, and, above all, made her know
+her limitations. The woman, be she queen or the plainest mortal, who can
+estimate accurately her own limitations, who is proof against enthusiasm, proof
+against ambition, and, at a climax, proof against flattery, who knows what she
+can <i>not</i> do, in that very thing finds success. Elizabeth was and ever
+will be a wonderful character-study; I never weary of reading or thinking of
+her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The settlement of Massachusetts was under James I; but costume varied little,
+save that it became more cumbersome. This may be attributed directly to the
+cowardice of the king, who wore quilted and padded—dagger-proof—clothing; and
+thus gave to his courtiers an example of stuffing and padding which exceeded
+even that of the men of Elizabeth’s day. “A great, round, abominable breech,”
+did the satirists call it. Stays had to be worn beneath the long-waisted,
+peascod-bellied, stuffed doublet to keep it in shape; thus a man’s attire had
+scarcely a single natural outline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have this description of Raleigh, courtier and “servant” of Elizabeth and
+victim of James, given by a contemporary, Aubrey:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“He looked like a Knave with his gogling eyes. He could transform himself into
+any shape. He was a tall, handsome, bold man; but his naeve was that he was
+damnably proud. A good piece of him is in a white satin doublet all embroidered
+with rich pearls, and a mighty told me that the true pearls were nigh as big as
+the painted ones. He had a most remarkable aspect, an exceeding high forehead,
+long faced, and sour eie-lidded, a kind of pigge-eie.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+We leave the choice of belief between one sentence of this personal
+description, that he was handsome, and the later plain-spoken details to the
+judgment of the reader. Certainly both statements cannot be true. As I look at
+his portrait, the “good piece of him” <a href="#Sir_Walter_Raleigh.">here</a>,
+I wholly disbelieve the former.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Sir_Walter_Raleigh_and_Son."></a>
+<img src="images/040.jpg" alt="Sir Walter Raleigh and Son." />
+<p class="caption">Sir Walter Raleigh and Son.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+His laced-in, stiffened waist, his absurd breeches, his ruffs and sashes and
+knots, his great shoe-roses, his jewelled hatband, make this a fantastic
+picture, one of little dignity, though of vast cost. The jewels on his shoes
+were said to have cost thirty thousand pounds; and the perfect pearls in his
+ear, as seen in another portrait, must have been an inch and a half long. He
+had doublets entirely covered with a pattern of jewels. In another portrait (<a
+href="#Sir_Walter_Raleigh_and_Son.">here</a>) his little son, poor child,
+stands by his side in similar stiff attire. The famous portrait of Sir Philip
+Sidney and his brother is equally comic in its absurdity of costume for young
+lads.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Read these words descriptive of another courtier, of the reign of James; his
+favorite, the Duke of Buckingham:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“With great buttons of diamonds, and with diamond hat bands, cockades and
+ear-rings, yoked with great and manifold knots of pearls. At his going over to
+Paris in 1625 he had twenty-seven suits of clothes made the richest that
+embroidery, gems, lace, silk, velvet, gold and stones could contribute; one of
+which was a white uncut velvet set all over suit and cloak with diamonds valued
+at &pound;14,000 besides a great feather stuck all over with diamonds, as were
+also his sword, girdle, hat-band and spurs.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+These were all courtiers, but we should in general think of an English merchant
+as dressed richly but plainly; yet here is the dress of Marmaduke Rawdon, a
+merchant of that day:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The apparell he rid in, with his chaine of gold and hat band was vallued in a
+thousand Spanish ducats; being two hundred and seventy and five pounds
+sterling. His hatband was of esmeralds set in gold; his suite was of a fine
+cloth trim’d with a small silke and gold fringe; the buttons of his suite fine
+gold—goldsmith’s work; his rapier and dagger richly hatcht with gold.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The white velvet dress of Buckingham showed one of the extreme fashions of the
+day, the wearing of pure white. Horace Walpole had a full-length painting of
+Lord Falkland all in white save his black gloves. Another of Sir Godfrey Hart,
+1600, is all in white save scarlet heels to the shoes. These scarlet heels were
+worn long in every court. Who will ever forget their clatter in the pages of
+Saint Simon, as they ran in frantic haste through hall and corridor—in terror,
+in cupidity, in satisfaction, in zeal to curry favor, in desire to herald the
+news, in hope to obtain office, in every mean and detestable spirit—ran from
+the bedside of the dying king? We can still hear, after two centuries, the
+noisy, heartless tapping of those hurrying red heels.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="ROBERT_DEVEREUX"></a>
+<img src="images/043.jpg" alt="Robert Devereux Earle of Essex His Excellency
+&amp; Generall of y&deg; Army. Pub April 1. 1799 by W Richardson York House
+N&deg; 31 Strand" />
+<p class="caption">Robert Devereux
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Look at the portrait of another courtier, Sir Robert Dudley, who died in 1639;
+not the Robert Dudley who was tickled in the neck by Queen Elizabeth while he
+was being dubbed earl; not the Dudley who murdered Amy Robsart, but his
+disowned son by a noble lady whom he secretly married and dishonored. This son
+was a brave sailor and a learned man. He wrote the <i>Arcana del Mare</i>, and
+he was a sportsman; “the first of all that taught a dog to sit in order to
+catch partridges.” His portrait shows clumsy armor and showy rings, a great
+jewel and a vast tie of gauze ribbon on one arm; on the other a cord with many
+aglets; he wears marvellously embroidered, slashed, and bombasted breeches,
+tight hose, a heavily jewelled, broad belt; and a richly fringed scarf over one
+shoulder, and ridiculous garters at his calf. It is so absurd, so vain a dress
+one cannot wonder that sensible gentlemen turned away in disgust to so-called
+Puritan plainness, even if it went to the extreme of Puritan ugliness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But in truth the eccentrics and extremes of Puritan dress were adopted by
+zealots; the best of that dress only was worn by the best men of the party. All
+Puritans were not like Philip Stubbes, the moralist; nor did all Royalists
+dress like Buckingham, the courtier.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have spoken of the influence of the word “sad-color.” I believe that our
+notion of the gloom of Puritan dress, of the dress certainly of the New England
+colonist, comes to us through it, for the term was certainly much used. A
+Puritan lover in Dorchester, Massachusetts, in 1645, wrote to his lass that he
+had chosen for her a sad-colored gown. Winthrop wrote, “Bring the coarsest
+woolen cloth, so it be not flocks, and of sad colours and some red;” and he
+ordered a “grave gown” for his wife, “not black, but sad-colour.” But while
+sad-colored meant a quiet tint, it did not mean either a dull stone color or a
+dingy grayish brown—nor even a dark brown. We read distinctly in an English
+list of dyes of the year 1638 of these tints in these words, “Sadd-colours the
+following; liver colour, De Boys, tawney, russet, purple, French green,
+ginger-lyne, deere colour, orange colour.” Of these nine tints, five, namely,
+“De Boys,” tawny, russet, ginger-lyne, and deer color, were all browns. Other
+colors in this list of dyes were called “light colours” and “graine colours.”
+Light colors were named plainly as those which are now termed by shopmen
+“evening shades”; that is, pale blue, pink, lemon, sulphur, lavender, pale
+green, ecru, and cream color. Grain colors were shades of scarlet, and were
+worn as much as russet. When dress in sad colors ranged from purple and French
+green through the various tints of brown to orange, it was certainly not a
+<i>dull</i>-colored dress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Let us see precisely what were the colors of the apparel of the first
+colonists. Let us read the details of russet and scarlet. We find them in
+<i>The Record of the Governor and Company of the Massachusetts Bay in New
+England</i>, one of the incontrovertible sources which are a delight to every
+true historian. These records are in the handwriting of the first secretary,
+Washburn, and contain lists of the articles sent on the ships <i>Talbot,
+George, Lion’s Whelp, Four Sisters</i>, and <i>Mayflower</i> for the use of the
+plantation at Naumkeag (Salem) and later at Boston. They give the amount of
+iron, coal, and bricks sent as ballast; the red lead, sail-cloth, and copper;
+and in 1629, at some month and day previous to 16th of March, give the order
+for the “Apparell for 100 men.” We learn that each colonist had this attire:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“4 Pair Shoes.<br/>
+2 Pair Irish Stockings about 13d. a pair.<br/>
+1 Pair knit Stockings about 2s. 4d. a pair.<br/>
+1 Pair Norwich Garters about 5s. a dozen.<br/>
+4 Shirts.<br/>
+2 Suits of Doublet and Hose; of leather lined with oiled skin leather, the hose
+and doublet with hooks and eyes.<br/>
+1 Suit of Northern Dussens or Hampshire Kerseys lined, the hose with skins, the
+doublet with linen of Guildford or Gedleyman serges, 2s. 10d. a yard, 4-1/2 to
+5 yards a suit.<br/>
+4 Bands.<br/>
+2 Plain falling bands.<br/>
+1 Standing band.<br/>
+1 Waistcoat of green cotton bound about with red tape.<br/>
+1 Leather Girdle.<br/>
+2 Monmouth Cap, about 2s. apiece.<br/>
+1 Black Hat lined at the brim with leather.<br/>
+5 Red knit caps milled; about 5d. apiece.<br/>
+2 Dozen Hooks and eyes and small hooks and eyes for mandillions.<br/>
+1 Pair Calfs Leather gloves (and some odd pairs of knit and sheeps leather
+gloves).<br/>
+A number of Ells Sheer Linen for Handkerchiefs.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+On March 16th was added to this list a mandillion lined with cotton at 12d. a
+yard. Also breeches and waistcoats; a leather suit of doublet and breeches of
+oiled leather; a pair of breeches of leather, “the drawers to serve to wear
+with both their other suits.” There was also full, yes, generous for the day,
+provision of rugs, bedticks, bolsters, mats, blankets, and sheets for the
+berths, and table linen. There were fifty beds; evidently two men occupied each
+bed. Folk, even of wealth and refinement, were not at all sensitive as to their
+mode of sleeping or their bedfellows. The pages of Pepys’s <i>Diary</i> give
+ample examples of this carelessness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arms and armor were also furnished, as will be explained in a later chapter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A private letter written by an engineer, one Master Graves, the following year
+(1630), giving a list of “such needful things as every planter ought to
+provide,” affords a more curt and much less expensive list, though this has
+three full suits, two being of wool stuffs:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“1 Monmouth Cap.<br/>
+3 Falling Bands.<br/>
+3 Shirts.<br/>
+1 Waistcoat.<br/>
+1 Suit Canvass.<br/>
+1 Suit Frieze.<br/>
+1 Suit of Cloth.<br/>
+3 Pair of Stockings.<br/>
+4 Pair of Shoes.<br/>
+Armour complete.<br/>
+Sword &amp;; Belt.”<br/>
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The underclothing in this outfit seems very scanty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I am sure that to some of the emigrants on these ships either outfit afforded
+an ampler wardrobe than they had known theretofore in England, though English
+folk of that day were well dressed. With a little consideration we can see that
+the Massachusetts Bay apparel was adequate for all occasions, but it was far
+different from a man’s dress to-day. The colonist “hadn’t a coat to his back”;
+nor had he a pair of trousers. Some had not even a pair of breeches. It was a
+time when great changes in dress were taking place. The ancient gown had just
+been abandoned for doublet and long hose, which were still in high esteem,
+especially among “the elder sort,” with garters or points for the knees. These
+doublets were both of leather and wool. And there were also doublets to be worn
+by younger men with breeches and stockings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When doublet and hose were worn, the latter were, of course, the long,
+Florentine hose, somewhat like our modern tights.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The jerkin of other lists varied little from the doublet; both were often
+sleeveless, and the cassock in turn was different only in being longer;
+buff-coat and horseman’s coat were slightly changed. The evolution of doublet,
+jerkin, and cassock into a man’s coat is a long enough story for a special
+chapter, and one which took place just while America was being settled. Let me
+explain here that, while the general arrangement of this book is naturally
+chronological, we halt upon our progress at times, to review a certain aspect
+of dress, as, for instance, the riding-dress of women, or the dress of the
+Quakers, or to review the description of certain details of dress in a
+consecutive account. We thus run on ahead of our story sometimes; and other
+times, topics have to be resumed and reviewed near the close of the book.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The breeches worn by the early planters were fulled at the waist and knee,
+after the Dutch fashion, somewhat like our modern knickerbockers or the English
+bag-breeches.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The four pairs of shoes furnished to the colonists were the best. In another
+entry the specifications of their make are given thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Welt Neats Leather shoes crossed on the out-side with a seam. To be
+substantial good over-leather of the best, and two soles; the under sole of
+Neats-leather, the outer sole of tallowed backs.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+They were to be of ample size, some thirteen inches long; each reference to
+them insisted upon good quality.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is plentiful head-gear named in these inventories,—six caps and a hat for
+each man, at a time when Englishmen thought much and deeply upon what they wore
+to cover their heads, and at a time when hats were very costly. I give due
+honor to those hats in an entire chapter, as I do to the ruffs and bands
+supplied in such adequate and dignified numbers. There was an unusually liberal
+supply of shirts, and there were drawers which are believed to have been
+draw-strings for the breeches.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In <i>New England’s First Fruits</i> we read instructions to bring over “good
+Irish stockings, which if they are good are much more serviceable than knit
+ones.” There appears to have been much variety in shape as well as in material.
+John Usher, writing in 1675 to England, says, “your sherrups stockings and your
+turn down stocking are not salable here.” Nevertheless, stirrup stockings and
+socks were advertised in the Boston News Letter as late as January 30, 1731.
+Stirrup-hose are described in 1658 as being very wide at the top—two yards
+wide—and edged with points or eyelet holes by which they were made fast to the
+girdle or bag-breeches. Sometimes they were allowed to bag down over the
+garter. They are said to have been worn on horseback to protect the other
+garments.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stockings at that time were made of cotton and woollen cloth more than they
+were knitted. Calico stockings are found in inventories, and often stockings as
+well as hose with calico linings. In the clothing of William Wright of
+Plymouth, at his death in 1633, were
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“2 Pair Old Knit Stockins.<br/>
+2 Pair Old Yrish Stockins.<br/>
+2 Pair Cloth Stockins.<br/>
+2 Pair Wadmoll Stockins.<br/>
+4 Pair Linnen Stockins,”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+which would indicate that Goodman Wright had stockings for all weathers, or, as
+said a list of that day, “of all denominations.” He had also two pair of
+boot-hose and two pair of boot-briches; evidently he was a seafaring man. I
+must note that he had more ample underclothing than many “plain citizens,”
+having cotton drawers and linen drawers and dimity waistcoats.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That petty details of propriety and dignity of dress were not forgotten; that
+the articles serving to such dignity were furnished to the colonists, and the
+use of these articles was expected of them, is shown by the supply of such
+additions to dress as Norwich garters. Garters had been a decorative and
+elegant ornament to dress, as may be seen by glancing at the portraits of Sir
+Walter Raleigh, Sir Robert Orchard, and the <i>English Antick</i>, in this
+book. And they might well have been decried as offensive luxuries unmeet for
+any Puritan and unnecessary for any colonist; yet here they are. The settlers
+in one of the closely following ships had points for the knee as well as
+garters.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From all this cheerful and ample dress, this might well be a Cavalier
+emigration; in truth, the apparel supplied as an outfit to the Virginia
+planters (who are generally supposed to be far more given over to rich dress)
+is not as full nor as costly as this apparel of Massachusetts Bay. In this as
+in every comparison I make, I find little to indicate any difference between
+Puritan and Cavalier in quantity of garments, in quality, or cost—or, indeed,
+in form. The differences in England were much exaggerated in print; in America
+they often existed wholly in men’s notions of what a Puritan must be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At first the English Puritan reformers made marked alterations in dress; and
+there were also distinct changes in the soldiers of Cromwell’s army, but in
+neither case did rigid reforms prove permanent, nor were they ever as great or
+as sweeping as the changes which came to the Cavalier dress. Many of the
+extremes preached in Elizabeth’s day had disappeared before New England was
+settled; they had been abandoned as unwise or unnecessary; others had been
+adopted by Cavaliers, so that equalized all differences. I find it difficult to
+pick out with accuracy Puritan or Cavalier in any picture of a large gathering.
+Let us glance at the Puritan Roundhead, at Cromwell himself. His picture is
+given <a href="#Cromwell_dissolving_Parliament.">here</a>, cut from a famous
+print of his day, which represents Cromwell dissolving the Long Parliament. He
+and his three friends, all Puritan leaders, are dressed in clothes as
+distinctly Cavalier as the attire of the king himself. The graceful hats with
+sweeping ostrich feathers are precisely like the Cavalier hats still preserved
+in England; like one in the South Kensington Museum. Cromwell’s wide boots and
+his short cape all have a Cavalier aspect.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Cromwell_dissolving_Parliament."></a>
+<img src="images/052.jpg" alt="Cromwell dissolving Parliament. Be gone you
+rogues/You have Sate long enough." />
+<p class="caption">Cromwell dissolving Parliament.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+While Cromwell was steadily working for power, the fashion of plain attire was
+being more talked about than at any other time; so he appeared in studiously
+simple dress—the plainest apparel, indeed, of any man prominent in affairs in
+English history. This is a description of his appearance at a time before his
+name was in all Englishmen’s mouths. It was written by Sir Philip Warwick:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The first time I ever took notice of him (Cromwell) was in the beginning of
+Parliament, November, 1640. I came into the house one morning, well-clad, and
+perceived a gentleman speaking whom I knew not, very ordinary apparelled, for
+it was a plain cloth suit which seemed to have been made by an ill country
+tailor. His linen was plain and not very clean, and I remember a speck or two
+of blood upon his band which was not much larger than his collar; his hat was
+without a hat-band; his stature was of good size; his sword stuck close to his
+side.”<br/>
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Lowell has written of what he terms verbal magic; the power of certain words
+and sentences, apparently simple, and without any recognizable quality, which
+will, nevertheless, fix themselves in our memory, or will picture a scene to us
+which we can never forget. This description of Cromwell has this magic. There
+is no apparent reason why these plain, commonplace words should fix in my mind
+this simple, rough-hewn form; yet I never can think of Cromwell otherwise than
+in this attire, and whatever portrait I see of him, I instinctively look for
+the spot of blood on his band. I know of his rich dress after he was in power;
+of that splendid purple velvet suit in which he lay majestic in death; but they
+never seem to me to be Cromwell—he wears forever an ill-cut, clumsy cloth suit,
+a close sword, and rumpled linen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The noble portraits of Cromwell by the miniaturist, Samuel Cooper, especially
+the one which is at Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, are held to be the truest
+likenesses. They show a narrow band, but the hair curls softly on the
+shoulders. The wonderful portrait of the Puritan General Ireton, in the
+National Portrait Gallery, has beautiful, long hair, and a velvet suit much
+slashed, and with many loops and buttons at the slashes. He wears mustache and
+imperial. We expect we may find that friend of Puritanism, Lucius Carey, Lord
+Falkland, in rich dress; and we find him in the richest of dress; namely, a
+doublet made, as to its body and large full sleeves, wholly of bands an inch or
+two wide of embroidery and gold lace, opening like long slashes from throat to
+waist, and from arm-scye to wrist over fine white lawn, and with extra slashes
+at various spots, with the full white lawn of his “habit-shirt” pulled out in
+pretty puffs. His hair is long and curling. General Waller of Cromwell’s army,
+here shown, is the very figure of a Cavalier, as handsome a face, with as
+flowing hair and careful mustache, as the Duke of Buckingham, or Mr. Endymion
+Porter,—that courtier of courtiers,—gentleman of the bed-chamber to Charles I.
+Cornet Joyce, the sturdy personal custodian of the king in captivity, came the
+closest to being a Roundhead; but even his hair covers his ear and hangs over
+his collar—it would be deemed over-long to-day.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Sir_William_Waller."></a>
+<img src="images/054.jpg" alt="Sir William Waller." />
+<p class="caption">Sir William Waller.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Here is Lord Fairfax in plain buff coat slightly laced and slashed with white
+satin. Fanshawe dressed—so his wife tells us—in “phillamot brocade with 9 Laces
+every one as broad as my hand, a little gold and silver lace between and both
+of curious workmanship.” And his suit was gay with scarlet knots of ribbon; and
+his legs were cased in white silk hose over scarlet ones; and he wore black
+shoes with scarlet shoe strings and scarlet roses and garters; and his gloves
+were trimmed with scarlet ribbon—a fine “gaybeseen”—to use Chaucer’s words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Surprising to all must be the portrait of that Puritan figurehead, the Earl of
+Leicester; for he wears an affected double-peaked beard, a great ruff,
+feathered hat, richly jewelled hatband and collar, and an ear-ring. Shown <a
+href="#ROBERT_DEVEREUX">here</a> is the dress he wore when masquerading in
+Holland as general during the Netherland insurrection against Philip II.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is strange to find even writers of intelligence calling Winthrop and
+Endicott Roundheads. A recent magazine article calls Myles Standish a Roundhead
+captain. That term was not invented till a score of years after Myles Standish
+landed at Plymouth. A political song printed in 1641 is entitled <i>The
+Character of a Roundhead</i>. It begins:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“What creature’s this with his short hairs<br/>
+His little band and huge long ears<br/>
+     That this new faith hath founded?<br/>
+<br/>
+“The Puritans were never such,<br/>
+The saints themselves had ne’er as much.<br/>
+     Oh, such a knave’s a Roundhead.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="TherightHonourableFerdinandLordFairfax"></a>
+<img src="images/056.jpg" alt="The right Honourable Ferdinand Lord Fairfax." />
+<p class="caption">The right Honourable Ferdinand—Lord Fairfax.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson was the wife of a Puritan gentleman, who was colonel in
+Cromwell’s army, and one of the regicide judges. She wrote a history of her
+husband’s life, which is one of the most valuable sources of information of the
+period wherein he lived, the day when Cromwell and Hampden acted, when Laud and
+Strafford suffered. In this history she tells explicitly of the early use of
+the word Roundhead:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The name of Roundhead coming so opportunely, I shall make a little digression
+to show how it came up: When Puritanism grew a faction, the Zealots
+distinguished themselves by several affectations of habit, looks and words,
+which had it been a real forsaking of vanity would have been most commendable.
+Among other affected habits, few of the Puritans, what degree soever they were,
+wore their hair long enough to cover their ears; and the ministers and many
+others cut it close around their heads with so many little peaks—as was
+something ridiculous to behold. From this custom that name of Roundhead became
+the scornful term given to the whole Parliament Party, whose army indeed
+marched out as if they had only been sent out till their hair was grown. Two or
+three years later any stranger that had seen them would have inquired the
+meaning of that name.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+It is a pleasure to point out Colonel Hutchinson as a Puritan, though there was
+little in his dress to indicate the significance of such a name for him, and
+certainly he was not a Roundhead, with his light brown hair “softer than the
+finest silk and curling in great loose rings at the ends—a very fine, thick-set
+head of hair.” He loved dancing, fencing, shooting, and hawking; he was a
+charming musician; he had judgment in painting, sculpture, architecture, and
+the “liberal arts.” He delighted in books and in gardening and in all rarities;
+in fact, he seemed to care for everything that was “lovely and of good report.”
+“He was wonderfully neat, cleanly and genteel in his habit, and had a very good
+fancy in it, but he left off very early the wearing of anything very costly,
+yet in his plainest habit appeared very much a gentleman.” Such dress was the
+<i>best</i> of Puritan dress; just as he was the best type of a Puritan. He was
+cheerful, witty, happy, eager, earnest, vivacious—a bit quick in temper, but
+kind, generous, and good. He was, in truth, what is best of all,—a noble,
+consistent, Christian gentleman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Those who have not acquired from accurate modern portrayal and representation
+their whole notion of the dress of the early colonists have, I find, a figure
+in their mind’s eye something like that of Matthew Hopkins the witch-finder.
+Hogarth’s illustrations of Hudibras give similar Puritans. Others have figures,
+dull and plainly dressed, from the pictures in some book of saints and martyrs
+of the Puritan church, such as were found in many an old New England home.
+<i>My</i> Puritan is reproduced <a
+href="#Alderman_Abell_and_Richard_Kilvert">here</a>. I have found in later
+years that this Alderman Abel of my old print was quite a character in English
+history; having been given with Cousin Kilvert the monopoly of the sale of
+wines at retail, one of those vastly lucrative privileges which brought forth
+the bitterest denunciations from Sir John Eliot, who regarded them as an
+infamous imposition upon the English people. The site of Abel’s house had once
+belonged to Cardinal Wolsey; and it was popularly believed that Abel found and
+used treasure of the cardinal which had been hidden in his cellar. He was
+called the “Main Projector and Patentee for the Raising of Wines.”
+Unfortunately for my theory that Abel was a typical Puritan, he was under the
+protection of King Charles I; and Cromwell’s Parliament put an end to his
+monopoly in 1641, and his dress was simply that of any dull, uninteresting,
+commonplace, and common Englishman of his day.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Alderman_Abell_and_Richard_Kilvert"></a>
+<img src="images/059.jpg" alt="Alderman Abell and Richard Kilvert, the two
+maine Projectors for Wine, 1641." />
+<p class="caption">Mr. Alderman Abell and Richard Kilvert, the two maine
+Projectors for Wine, 1641.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Another New England man who is constantly called a Roundhead is Cotton Mather;
+with equal inconsequence and inaccuracy he is often referred to, and often
+stigmatized, as “the typical Puritan colonist,” a narrow, bigoted Gospeller. I
+have open before me an editorial from a reputable newspaper which speaks of
+Cotton Mather dressed in dingy, skimped, sad-colored garments “shivering in the
+icy air of Plymouth as he uncovered his close-clipped Round-head when he landed
+on the Rock from the <i>Mayflower</i>.” He was in fact born in America; he was
+not a Plymouth man, and did not die till more than a century after the landing
+of the <i>Mayflower</i>, and, of course, he was not a Roundhead. Another
+drawing of Cotton Mather, in a respectable magazine, depicts him with clipped
+hair, emaciated, clad in clumsy garments, mean and haggard in countenance,
+raising a bundle of rods over a cowering Indian child. Now, Cotton Mather was
+distinctly handsome, as may be seen from his picture <a
+href="#Reverend_Cotton_Mather.">here</a>, which displays plainly the full,
+sensual features of the Cotton family, shown in John Cotton’s portrait. And the
+Roundhead is in an elegant, richly curled periwig, such as was fashionable a
+hundred years after the <i>Mayflower</i>. And though he had the tormenting
+Puritan conscience he was not wholly a Puritan, for the world, the flesh, and
+the devil were strong in him. He was much more gentle and tender than men of
+that day were in general; especially with all children, white and Indian, and
+was most conscientious in his relations both to Indians and negroes. And in
+those days of universal whippings by English and American schoolmasters and
+parents, he spoke in no uncertain voice his horror and disapproval of the rod
+for children, and never countenanced or permitted any whippings.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Reverend_John_Cotton."></a>
+<img src="images/060.jpg" alt="Reverend John Cotton." />
+<p class="caption">Reverend John Cotton.
+</p></div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+<a name="Reverend_Cotton_Mather."></a>
+<img src="images/061.jpg" alt="Reverend Cotton Mather." />
+<p class="caption">Reverend Cotton Mather.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+There was certainly great diversity in dress among those who called themselves
+Puritans. Some amusing stories are told of that strange, restless, brilliant
+creature, the major-general of Cromwell’s army,—Harrison. When the
+first-accredited ambassador sent by any great nation to the new republic came
+to London, there was naturally some stir as to the wisdom of certain details of
+demeanor and dress. It was a ticklish time. The new Commonwealth must command
+due honor, and the day before the audience a group of Parliament gentlemen,
+among them Colonel Hutchinson and one who was afterwards the Earl of Warwick,
+were seated together when Harrison came in and spoke of the coming audience,
+and admonished them all—and Hutchinson in particular, “who was in a habit
+pretty rich but grave and none other than he usually wore”—that, now nations
+sent to them, they must “shine in wisdom and piety, not in gold and silver and
+worldly bravery which did not become saints.” And he asked them not to appear
+before the ambassador in “gorgeous habits.” So the colonel—though he was not
+“convinced of any misbecoming bravery in a suit of sad-coloured cloth trimmed
+with gold and with silver points and buttons”—still conformed to his comrade’s
+opinion, and appeared as did all the other gentlemen in solemn, handsome black.
+When who should come in, “all in red and gold-a,”—in scarlet coat and cloak
+laden with gold and silver, “the coat so covered with clinquant one could
+scarcely discern the ground,” and in this gorgeous and glittering habit seat
+himself alone just under the speaker’s chair and receive the specially low
+respects and salutes of all in the ambassador’s train,—who should thus blazon
+and brazon and bourgeon forth but Harrison! I presume, though Hutchinson was a
+Puritan and a saint, he was a bit chagrined at his black suit of garments, and
+a bit angered at being thus decoyed; and it touched Madam Hutchinson deeply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Hutchinson had his turn to wear gay clothes. A great funeral was to be
+given to Ireton, who was his distant kinsman; yet Cromwell, from jealousy, sent
+no bidding or mourning suit to him. A general invitation and notice was given
+to the whole assembly, and on the hour of the funeral, within the great, gloomy
+state-chamber, hung in funereal black, and filled with men in trappings of woe,
+covered with great black cloaks with long, weeping hatbands drooping to the
+ground, in strode Hutchinson; this time he was in scarlet and cliquante, “such
+as he usually wore,”—so wrote his wife,—astonishing the eyes of all, especially
+the diplomats and ambassadors who were present, who probably deemed him of so
+great station as to be exempt from wearing black. The master of ceremonies
+timidly regretted to him, in hesitating words, that no mourning had been
+sent—it had been in some way overlooked; the General could not, thus unsuitably
+dressed, follow the coffin in the funeral procession—it would not look well;
+the master of ceremonies would be rebuked—all which proved he did not know
+Hutchinson, for follow he could, and would, and did, in this rich dress. And he
+walked through the streets and stood in the Abbey, with his scarlet cloak
+flaunting and fluttering like a gay tropical bird in the midst of a slowly
+flying, sagging flock of depressed black crows,—you have seen their dragging,
+heavy flight,—and was looked upon with admiration and love by the people as a
+splendid and soldierly figure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We must not forget that the years which saw the settlement of Salem and Boston
+were not under the riot of dress countenanced by James. Charles I was then on
+the throne; and the rich and beautiful dress worn by that king had already
+taken shape.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There has been an endeavor made to attribute this dress to the stimulus, to the
+influence, of Puritan feeling. Possibly some of the reaction against the
+absurdities of Elizabeth and James may have helped in the establishment of this
+costume; but I think the excellent taste of Charles and especially of his
+queen, Henrietta Maria, who succeeded in making women’s dress wholly beautiful,
+may be thanked largely for it. And we may be grateful to the painter Van Dyck;
+for he had not only great taste as to dress, and genius in presenting his taste
+to the public, but he had a singular appreciation of the pictorial quality of
+dress and a power of making dress appropriate to the wearer. And he fully
+understood its value in indicating character.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Since Van Dyck formed and painted these fine and elegant modes, they are known
+by his name,—it is the Van Dyck costume. We have ample exposition of it, for
+his portraits are many. It is told that he painted forty portraits of the king
+and thirty of the queen, and many of the royal children. There are nine
+portraits by his hand of the Earl of Strafford, the king’s friend. He painted
+the Earl of Arundel seven times. Venetia, Lady Digby, had four portraits in one
+year. He painted all persons of fashion, many of distinction and dignity, and
+some with no special reason for consideration or portrayal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Van Dyck dress is a gallant dress, one fitted for a court, not for everyday
+life, nor for a strenuous life, though men of such aims wore it. The absurdity
+of Elizabeth’s day is lacking; the richness remains. It is a dress distinctly
+expressive of dignity. The doublet is of some rich, silken stuff, usually satin
+or velvet. The sleeves are loose and graceful; at one time they were slashed
+liberally to show the fine, full, linen shirt-sleeve. Here are a number of
+slashed sleeves, from portraits of the day, painted by Van Dyck. The cuffs of
+the doublet are often turned back deeply to show embroidered shirt cuffs or
+lace ruffles, or even linen undersleeves. The collar of the doublet was wholly
+covered with a band or collar of rich lace and lawn, or all lace; this usually
+with the pointed edges now termed Vandykes. Band strings of ribbon or
+“snake-bone” were worn. These often had jewelled tassels. Rich tassels of pearl
+were the favorite. A short cloak was thrown gracefully on one shoulder or hung
+at the back. Knee-breeches edged with points or fringes or ribbons met the tops
+of wide, high boots of Spanish leather, which often also turned over with
+ruffles of leather or lace. Within-doors silken hose and shoes with rich
+shoe-roses of lace or ribbon were worn. A great hat, broad-leafed, often of
+Flemish beaver, had a splendid feather and jewelled hatband. A rich sword-belt
+and gauntleted and fringed gloves were added. A peaked beard with small
+upturned mustache formed a triangle, with the mouth in the centre, as in the
+portrait of General Waller. The hair curled loosely in the neck, and was
+rarely, I think, powdered.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="SlashedSleevestempCharlesI"></a>
+<img src="images/066.jpg" alt="Slashed Sleeves" />
+<p class="caption">Slashed Sleeves, <i>temp</i>. Charles I.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Other great painters besides Van Dyck were fortunately in England at the time
+this dress was worn, and the king was a patron and appreciator of art. Hence
+they were encouraged in their work; and every form and detail of this beautiful
+costume is fully depicted for us.
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 35%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Nowe my deare hearte let me parlye a little with thee about trifles, for
+when I am present with thee, my speeche is preiudiced by thy presence which
+drawes my mind from itselfe; I suppose now, upon thy unkles cominge there wilbe
+advisinge &amp;; counsellinge of all hands; and amongst many I know there wilbe
+some, that wilbe provokinge thee, in these indifferent things, as matter of
+apparell, fashions and other circumstances; I hould it a rule of Christian
+wisdome in all things to follow the soberest examples; I confesse that there be
+some ornaments which for Virgins and Knights Daughters &amp;;c may be comly and
+tollerrable which yet in soe great a change as thine is, may well admitt a
+change allso; I will medle with noe particulars neither doe I thinke it shall
+be needfull; thine own wisdome and godliness shall teach thee sufficiently what
+to doe in such things. I knowe thou wilt not grieve me for trifles. Let me
+intreate thee (my sweet Love) to take all in good part.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—JOHN WINTHROP TO MARGARET TYNDALE, 1616.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="95" height="92" src="images/initiali.jpg" alt="I" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+have expressed a doubt that the dress of Cavalier and Puritan varied as much as
+has been popularly believed; I feel sure that the dress of Puritan women did
+not differ from the attire of women of quiet life who remained in the Church of
+England; nor did it vary materially either in form or quality from the attire
+of the sensible followers of court life. It simply did not extend to the
+extreme of the mode in gay color, extravagance, or grotesqueness. In the first
+severity of revolt over the dissoluteness of English life which had shown so
+plainly in the extravagance and absurdity of English court dress, many persons
+of deep thought (especially men), both of the Church of England and of the
+Puritan faith, expressed their feeling by a change in their dress. Doubtless
+also in some the extremity of feeling extended to fanaticism. It is always thus
+in reforms; the slow start becomes suddenly a violent rush which needs to be
+retarded and moderated, and it always is moderated. I have referred to one
+exhibition of bigotry in regard to dress which is found in the annals of
+Puritanism; it is detailed in the censure and attempt at restraint of the dress
+of Madam Johnson, the wife of the Rev. Francis Johnson, the pastor of the
+exiles to Holland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is a tradition that Parson Johnson was one of the Marprelate brotherhood,
+who certainly deserved the imprisonment they received, were it only for their
+ill-spelling and ill-use of their native tongue. The Marprelate pamphlet before
+me as I write had an author who could not even spell the titles of the prelates
+it assailed; but called them “parsones, fyckers and currats,” the latter two
+names being intended for vicars and curates. The story of Madam Johnson’s
+revolt, and her triumph, is preserved to us in such real and earnest language,
+and was such a vital thing to the actors in the little play, that it seems
+almost irreverent to regard it as a farce, yet none to-day could read of it
+without a sense of absurdity, and we may as well laugh frankly and freely at
+the episode.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the protagonist of this Puritan comedy entered the stage, she was a
+widow—Tomison or Thomasine Boyes, a “warm” widow, as the saying of the day ran,
+that is, warm with a comfortable legacy of ready money. She was a young widow,
+and she was handsome. At any rate, it was brought up against her when events
+came to a climax; it was testified in the church examination or trial that “men
+called her a bouncing girl,” as if she could help that! Husband Boyes had been
+a haberdasher, and I fancy she got both her finery and her love of finery in
+his shop. And it was told with all the petty terms of scandal-mongering that
+might be heard in a small shop in a small English town to-day; it was told very
+gravely that the “clarkes in the shop” compared her for her pride in apparel to
+the wife of the Bishop of London, and it was affirmed that she stood “gazing,
+braving, and vaunting in shop doores.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now this special complaint against the Widow Boyes, that she stood braving and
+vaunting in shop doors, was not a far-fetched attack brought as a novelty of
+tantalizing annoyance; it touches in her what was one of the light carriages of
+the day, which were so detestable to sober and thoughtful folk, an odious
+custom specified by Stubbes in his <i>Anatomy of Abuses</i>. He writes thus of
+London women, the wives of merchants:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Othersome spend the greater part of the daie in sittyng at the doore, to shewe
+their braveries, to make knowen their beauties, to behold the passers by; to
+view the coast, to see fashions, and to acquaint themselves of the bravest
+fellows—for, if not for these causes, I know no other causes why they should
+sitt at their doores—as many doe from Morning till Noon, from Noon till Night.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Other writers give other reasons for this “vaunting.” We learn that “merchants’
+wives had seats built a purpose” to sit in, in order to lure customers. Marston
+in <i>The Dutch Courtesan</i> says:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“His wife’s a proper woman—that she is! She has been as proper a woman as any
+in the Chepe. She paints now, and yet she keeps her husband’s old customers to
+him still. In troth, a fine-fac’d wife in a wainscot-carved seat, is a worthy
+ornament to any tradesman’s shop. And an attractive one I’le warrant.”<br/>
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This handsome, buxom, bouncing widow fell in love with Pastor Johnson, and he
+with her, while he was “a prisoner in the Clink,” he having been thrown therein
+by the Archbishop of Canterbury for his persistent preaching of Puritanism.
+Many of his friends “thought this not a good match” for him at any time; and
+all deemed it ill advised for a man in prison to pledge himself in matrimony to
+any one. And soon zealous and meddlesome Brother George Johnson took a hand in
+advice and counsel, with as high a hand as if Francis had been a child instead
+of a man of thirty-two, and a man of experience as well, and likewise older
+than George.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+George at first opened warily, saying in his letters that “he was very loth to
+contrary his brother;” still Brother Francis must be sensible that this widow
+was noted for her pride and vanity, her light and garish dress, and that it
+would give great offence to all Puritans if he married her, and “it (the vanity
+and extravagance, etc.) should not be refrained.” There was then some apparent
+concession and yielding on the widow’s part, for George for a time “sett down
+satysfyed”; when suddenly, to his “great grief” and discomfiture, he found that
+his brother had been “inveigled and overcarried,” and the sly twain had been
+married secretly in prison.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It must be remembered that this was in the last years of Elizabeth’s reign, in
+1596, when the laws were rigid in attempts at limitation of dress, as I shall
+note later in this chapter. But there were certain privileges of large estate,
+even if the owner were of mean birth; and Madam Johnson certainly had money
+enough to warrant her costly apparel, and in ready cash also, from Husband
+Boyes. But in the first good temper and general good will of the honeymoon she
+“obeyed”; she promised to dress as became her husband’s condition, which would
+naturally mean much simpler attire. He was soon in very bad case for having
+married without permission of the archbishop, and was still more closely
+confined within-walls; but even while he lingered in prison, Brother George saw
+with anguish that the bride’s short obedience had ended. She appeared in “more
+garish and proud apparell” than he had ever before seen upon the
+widow,—naturally enough for a bride,—even the bride of a bridegroom in prison;
+but he “dealt with her that she would refrain”—poor, simple man! She dallied
+on, tantalizing him and daring him, and she was very “bold in inviting proof,”
+but never quitting her bridal finery for one moment; so George read to her with
+emphasis, as a final and unconquerable weapon, that favorite wail of all men
+who would check or reprove an extravagant woman, namely, Isaiah iii, 16 <i>et
+seq</i>., the chapter called by Mercy Warren
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“... An antiquated page<br/>
+That taught us the threatenings of an Hebrew sage<br/>
+Gainst wimples, mantles, curls and crisping pins.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I wonder how many Puritan parsons have preached fatuously upon those verses!
+how many defiant women have had them read to them—and how many meek ones! I
+knew a deacon’s wife in Worcester, some years ago, who asked for a new pair of
+India-rubber overshoes, and in pious response her frugal partner slapped open
+the great Bible at this favorite third chapter of the lamenting and threatening
+prophet, and roared out to his poor little wife, sitting meekly before him in
+calico gown and checked apron, the lesson of the haughty daughters of Zion
+walking with stretched-forth necks and tinkling feet; of their chains and
+bracelets and mufflers; their bonnets and rings and rich jewels; their mantles
+and wimples and crisping-pins; their fair hoods and veils—oh, how she must have
+longed for an Oriental husband!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Petulant with his new sister-in-law’s successful evasions of his readings, his
+letters, and his advice, his instructions, his pleadings, his commands, and
+“full of sauce and zeal” like Elnathan, George Johnson, in emulation of the
+prophet Isaiah, made a list of the offences of this London “daughter of Zion,”
+wrote them out, and presented them to the congregation. She wore “3, 4, or even
+5 gold rings at one time” Then likewise “her Busks and ye Whalebones at her
+Brest were soe manifest that many of ye Saints were greeved thereby.” She was
+asked to “pull off her Excessive Deal of Lace.” And she was fairly implored to
+“exchange ye Schowish Hatt for a sober Taffety or Felt.” She was ordered
+severely “to discontinue Whalebones,” and to “quit ye great starcht Ruffs, ye
+Muske, and ye Rings.” And not to wear her bodice tied to her petticoat “as men
+do their doublets to their hose contrary to I Thessalonians, V, 22.” And a
+certain stomacher or neckerchief he plainly called “abominable and loathsome.”
+A “schowish Velvet Hood,” such as only “the richest, finest and proudest sort
+should use,” was likewise beyond endurance, almost beyond forgiveness, and
+other “gawrish gear gave him grave greevance.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._William_Clark."></a>
+<img src="images/075.jpg" alt="Mrs. William Clark." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. William Clark.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+But here the young husband interfered, as it was high time he should; and he
+called his brother “fantasticall, fond, ignorant, anabaptisticall and such
+like,” though what the poor Anabaptists had to do with such dress quarrels I
+know not. George’s cautious reference in his letter to the third verse of the
+third chapter of Jeremiah made the parson call it “the Abhominablest Letter
+ever was written.” George, a bit frightened, answered pacificatorily that he
+noted of late that “the excessive lace upon the sleeve of her dress had a Cover
+drawn upon it;” that the stomacher was not “so gawrish, so low, and so
+spitz-fashioned as it was wont to be”; nor was her hat “so topishly set,”—and
+he expressed pious gladness at the happy change, “hoping more would
+follow,”—and for a time all did seem subdued. But soon another meddlesome young
+man became “greeved” (did ever any one hear of such a set of silly, grieving
+fellows?); and seeing “how heavily the young gentleman took it,” stupid George
+must interfere again, to be met this time very boldly by the bouncing girl
+herself, who, he writes sadly, answered him in a tone “very peert and coppet.”
+“Coppet” is a delightful old word which all our dictionaries have missed; it
+signifies impudent, saucy, or, to be precise, “sassy,” which we all know has a
+shade more of meaning. “Peert and coppet” is a delightful characterization.
+George refused to give the sad young complainer’s name, who must have been well
+ashamed of himself by this time, and was then reproached with being a
+“forestaller,” a “picker,” and a “quarrelous meddler”—and with truth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During the action of this farce, all had gone from London into exile in
+Holland. Then came the sudden trip to Newfoundland and the disastrous and
+speedy return to Holland again. And through the misfortunes and the exiles, the
+company drew more closely together, and gentle words prevailed; George was
+“sorie if he had overcarried himself”; Madam “was sure if it were to do now,
+she would not so wear it.” Still, she did not offer her martinet of a
+brother-in-law a room to lodge in in her house, though she had many rooms
+unused, and he needed shelter, whereat he whimpered much; and soon he was
+charging her again “with Muske as a sin” (musk was at that time in the very
+height of fashion in France) and cavilling at her unbearable “topish hat.” Then
+came long argument and sparring for months over “topishness,” which seems to
+have been deemed a most offensive term. They told its nature and being; they
+brought in Greek derivatives, and the pastor produced a syllogism upon the
+word. And they declared that the hat in itself was not topish, but only became
+so when she wore it, she being the wife of a preacher; and they disputed over
+velvet and vanity; they bickered over topishness and lightness; they wrangled
+about lawn coives and busks in a way that was sad to read. The pastor argued
+soundly, logically, that both coives and busks might be lawfully used; whereat
+one of his flock, Christopher Dickens, rose up promptly in dire fright and
+dread of future extravagance among the women-saints in the line of topish hats
+and coives and busks, and he “begged them not to speak so, and <i>so loud</i>,
+lest it should bring <i>many inconveniences among their wives</i>.” Finally the
+topish head-gear was demanded in court, which the parson declared was
+“offensive”; and so they bickered on till a most unseemly hour, till <i>ten
+o’clock at night</i>, as “was proved by the watchman and rattleman coming
+about.” Naturally they wished to go to bed at an early hour, for religious
+services began at nine; one of the complaints against the topish bride was that
+she was a “slug-a-bed,” flippantly refused to rise and have her house ordered
+and ready for the nine o’clock public service. The meetings were then held in
+the parson’s house, and held every day; which may have been one reason why the
+settlement grew poorer. It matters little what was said, or how it ended, since
+it did not disrupt and disband the Holland Pilgrims. For eleven years this
+stupid wrangling lasted; and it seemed imminent that the settlement would
+finish with a separation, and a return of many to England. Slight events have
+great power—this topish hat of a vain and pretty, a peert and coppet young
+Puritan bride came near to hindering and changing the colonization of America.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Lady_Mary_Armine."></a>
+<img src="images/078.jpg" alt="Lady Mary Armine." />
+<p class="caption">Lady Mary Armine.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+I have related this episode at some length because its recounting makes us
+enter into the spirit of the first Separatist settlers. It shows us too that
+dress conquered zeal; it could not be “forborne” by entreaty, by reproof, by
+discipline, by threats, by example. An influence, or perhaps I should term it
+an echo, of this long quarrel is seen plainly by the thoughtful mind in the
+sumptuary laws of the New World. Some of the articles of dress so dreaded, so
+discussed in Holland, still threatened the peace of Puritanical husbands in New
+England; they still dreaded many inconveniences. In 1634, the general court of
+Massachusetts issued this edict:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“That no person, man or woman, shall hereafter make or buy any Apparell, either
+Woolen, or Silk, or Linen, with any Lace on it, Silver, Gold, or Thread, under
+the penalty of forfeiture of said clothes. Also that no person either man or
+woman, shall make or buy any Slashed Clothes, other than one Slash in each
+Sleeve and another in the Back. Also all Cut-works, embroideries, or Needlework
+Caps, Bands or Rails, are forbidden hereafter to be made and worn under the
+aforesaid Penalty; also all gold or silver Girdles Hat bands, Belts, Ruffs,
+Beaver hats are prohibited to be bought and worn hereafter.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Fines were stated, also the amount of estate which released the dress-wearer
+from restriction. Liberty was given to all to wear out the apparel which they
+had on hand except “immoderate great sleeves, slashed apparell, immoderate
+great rails, and long wings”—these being beyond endurance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1639 “immoderate great breeches, knots of riban, broad shoulder bands and
+rayles, silk roses, double ruffles and capes” were forbidden to folk of low
+estate. Soon the court expressed its “utter detestation and dislike,” that men
+and women of “mean condition, education and calling” should take upon
+themselves “the garb of gentlemen” by wearing gold and silver lace, buttons and
+points at the knee, or “walk in great boots,” or women of the same low rank to
+wear silk or tiffany hoods or scarfs. There were likewise orders that no short
+sleeves should be worn “whereby the nakedness of the arms may be discovered”;
+women’s sleeves were not to be more than half an ell wide; long hair and
+immodest laying out of the hair and wearing borders of hair were abhorrent.
+Poor folk must not appear with “naked breasts and arms; or as it were pinioned
+with superstitious ribbons on hair and apparell.” Tailors who made garments for
+servants or children, richer than the garments of the parents or masters of
+these juniors, were to be fined. Similar laws were passed in Connecticut and
+Virginia. I know of no one being “psented” under these laws in Virginia, but in
+Connecticut and Massachusetts both men and women were fined. In 1676, in
+Northampton, thirty-six young women at one time were brought up for overdress
+chiefly in hoods; and an amusing entry in the court record is that one of them,
+Hannah Lyman, appeared in the very hood for which she was fined; and was
+thereupon censured for “wearing silk in a fflonting manner, in an offensive
+way, not only before but when she stood Psented. Not only in Ordinary but
+Extraordinary times.” These girls were all fined; but six years later, when a
+stern magistrate attempted a similar persecution, the indictments were quashed.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="The_Tub-preacher."></a>
+<img src="images/081.jpg" alt="The Tub-preacher." />
+<p class="caption">The Tub-preacher.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It is not unusual to find the careless observer or the superficial reader—and
+writer—commenting upon the sumptuary laws of the New World as if they were
+extraordinary and peculiar. There appeared in a recent American magazine a long
+rehearsal of the unheard-of presumption of Puritan magistrates in their
+prohibition of certain articles of dress. This writer was evidently wholly
+ignorant of the existence of similar laws in England, and even of like laws in
+Virginia, but railed against Winthrop and Endicott as monsters of Puritanical
+arrogance and impudence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In truth, however, such laws had existed not only in France and England, but
+since the days of the old Locrian legislation, when it was ordered that no
+woman should go attended with more than one maid in the street “unless she were
+drunk.” Ancient Rome and Sparta were surrounded by dress restrictions which
+were broken just as were similar ones in more modern times. The Roman could
+wear a robe but of a single color; he could wear in embroideries not more than
+half an ounce of gold; and, with what seems churlishness he was forbidden to
+ride in a carriage. At that time, just as in later days, dress was made to
+emphasize class distinction, and the clergy joined with the magistrates in
+denouncing extravagant dress in both men and women. The chronicles of the monks
+are ever chiding men for their peaked shoes, deep sleeves and curled locks like
+women, and Savonarola outdid them all in severity. The English kings and
+queens, jealous of the rich dress of their opulent subjects, multiplied
+restrictions, and some very curious anecdotes exist of the calm assumption by
+both Elizabeth and Mary to their own wardrobe of the rich finery of some lady
+at the court who displayed some new and too becoming fancy.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Old_Venice_Point_Lace."></a>
+<img src="images/083.jpg" alt="Old Venice Point Lace." />
+<p class="caption">Old Venice Point Lace.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Adam Smith declared it “an act of highest impertinence and presumption for
+kings and rulers to pretend to watch over the earnings and expenditure of
+private persons,” nevertheless this public interference lingered long,
+especially under monarchies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These sumptuary laws of New England followed in spirit and letter similar laws
+in England. Winthrop had seen the many apprentices who ran through London
+streets, dressed under laws as full of details of dress as is a modern journal
+of the modes. For instance, the apprentice’s head-covering must be a small,
+flat, round cap, called often a bonnet—a hat like a pie-dish. The facing of the
+hat could not exceed three inches in breadth in the head; nor could the hat
+with band and facing cost over five shillings. His band or collar could have no
+lace edge; it must be of linen not over five shillings an ell in price; and
+could have no other work or ornament save “a plain hem and one stitch”—which
+was a hemstitch. If he wore a ruff, it must not be over three inches wide
+before it was gathered and set into the “stock.” The collar of his doublet
+could have neither “point, well-bone or plait,” but must be made “close and
+comely.” The stuff of his doublet and breeches could not cost over two
+shillings and sixpence a yard. It could be either cloth, kersey, fustian,
+sackcloth, canvas, or “English stuff”; or leather could be used. The breeches
+were generally of the shape known as “round slops.” His stockings could be knit
+or of cloth; but his shoes could have no polonia heels. His hair was to be cut
+close, with no “tuft or lock.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Queen Elizabeth stood no nonsense in these things; finding that London
+’prentices had adopted a certain white stitching for their collars, she put a
+stop to this mild finery by ordering the first transgressor to be whipped
+publicly in the hall of his company. These same laws, tinkered and altered to
+suit occasions, appear for many years in English records, for years after New
+England’s sumptuary laws were silenced.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Notwithstanding Hannah Lyman and the thirty-six vain Northampton girls, we do
+not on the whole hear great complaint of extravagance in dress or deportment.
+At any rate none were called bouncing girls. The portraits of men or women
+certainly show no restraint as to richness in dress. Their sumptuary laws were
+of less use to their day than to ours, for they do reveal to us what articles
+of dress our forbears wore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While the Massachusetts magistrates were fussing a little over woman’s dress,
+the parsons, as a whole, were remarkably silent. Of course two or three of them
+could not refrain from announcing a text from Isaiah iii, 16 <i>et seq</i>.,
+and enlarging upon the well-worn wimples and nose jewels, and bells on their
+feet, which were as much out of fashion in Massachusetts then as now. It is
+such a well-rounded, ringing, colorful arraignment of woman’s follies you
+couldn’t expect a parson to give it up. Every evil predicted of the prophet was
+laid at the door of these demure Puritan dames,—fire and war, and caterpillars,
+and even baldness, which last was really unjust. Solomon Stoddard preached on
+the “Intolerable Pride in the Plantations in Clothes and Hair,” that his
+parishioners “drew iniquity with a cord of vanity and sin with a cart-rope.”
+The apostle Paul also furnished ample texts for the Puritan preacher.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Rebecca_Rawson."></a>
+<img src="images/086.jpg" alt="Rebecca Rawson." />
+<p class="caption">Rebecca Rawson.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the eleventh chapter of Corinthians wise Paul delivered some sentences of
+exhortation, of reproof, of warning to Corinthian women which I presume he
+understood and perhaps Corinthian dames did, but which have been a dire puzzle
+since to parsons and male members of their congregations. (I cannot think that
+women ever bothered much about his words.) For instance, Archbishop Latimer, in
+one of the cheerful, slangy rallies to his hearers which he called sermons,
+quotes Paul’s sentence that a woman ought to have a power on her head, and
+construes positively that a power is a French hood. This is certainly a
+somewhat surprising notion, but I presume he knew. However, Roger Williams
+deemed a power a veil; and being somewhat dictatorial in his words, albeit the
+tenderest of creatures in his heart, he bade Salem women come to meeting in a
+veil, telling them they should come like Sarah of old, wearing this veil as a
+token of submission to their husbands. The text saith this exactly, “A woman
+ought to have power on her head because of the angels,” which seems to me one
+of those convenient sayings of Paul and others which can be twisted to many, to
+any meanings, even to Latimer’s French hood. Old John Cotton, of course, found
+ample Scripture to prove Salem women should not wear veils, and so here in this
+New World, as in the Holland sojourn, the head-covering of the mothers rent in
+twain the meetings of the fathers, while the women wore veils or no veils,
+French hoods or beaver hats, in despite of Paul’s opinions and their husbands’
+constructions of his opinions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An excellent description of the Puritan women of a dissenting congregation is
+in <i>Hudibras Redivivus;</i> it reads:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“The good old dames among the rest<br/>
+Were all most primitively drest<br/>
+In stiffen-bodyed russet gowns<br/>
+And on their heads old steeple crowns<br/>
+With pristine pinners next their faces<br/>
+Edged round with ancient scallop-laces,<br/>
+Such as, my antiquary says,<br/>
+Were worn in old Queen Bess’s days,<br/>
+In ruffs; and fifty other ways<br/>
+Their wrinkled necks were covered o’er<br/>
+With whisks of lawn by granmarms wore.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The “old steeple crowns” over “pristine pinners” were not peculiar to the
+Puritans. There was a time, in the first years of the seventeenth century, when
+many Englishwomen wore steeple-crowned hats with costly hatbands. We find them
+in pictures of women of the court, as well as upon the heads of Puritans. I
+have a dozen prints and portraits of Englishwomen in rich dress with these
+hats. The Quaker Tub-preacher, shown <a href="#The_Tub-preacher.">here</a>,
+wears one. Perhaps the best known example to Americans may be seen in the
+portrait of Pocahontas <a href="#Pocahontas.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Authentic portraits of American women who came in the <i>Mayflower</i> or in
+the first ships to the Massachusetts Bay settlement, there are none to my
+knowledge. Some exist which are doubtless of that day, but cannot be certified.
+One preserved in Connecticut in the family of Governor Eaton shows a brown old
+canvas like a Rembrandt. The subject is believed to be of the Yale family, and
+the chief and most distinct feature of dress is the ruff.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a time of change both of men’s and women’s neckwear. A few older women
+clung to the ruffs of their youth; younger women wore bands, falling-bands,
+falls, rebatoes, falling-whisks and whisks, the “fifty other ways” which could
+be counted everywhere. Carlyle says:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“There are various traceable small threads of relation, interesting
+reciprocities and mutabilities connecting the poor young Infant, New England,
+with its old Puritan mother and her affairs, which ought to be disentangled, to
+be made conspicuous by the Infant herself now she has grown big.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+These traceable threads of relation are ever of romantic interest to me, and
+even when I refer to the dress of English folk I linger with pleasure with
+those whose lives were connected even by the smallest thread with the Infant,
+New England. One such thread of connection was in the life of Lady Mary Armine;
+so I choose to give her picture <a href="#Lady_Mary_Armine.">here</a>, to
+illustrate the dress, if not of a New Englander, yet of one of New England’s
+closest friends. She was a noble, high-minded English gentlewoman, who gave
+“even to her dying day” to the conversion of poor tawny heathen of New England.
+A churchwoman by open profession, she was a Puritan in her sympathies, as were
+many of England’s best hearts and souls who never left the Church of England.
+She gave in one gift &pound;500 to families of ministers who had been driven
+from their pulpits in England. The Nipmuck schools at Natick and Hassamanesit
+(near Grafton) were founded under her patronage. The life of this “Truly
+Honourable, Very Aged and Singularly Pious Lady who dyed 1675,” was written as
+a “pattern to Ladies.” Her long prosy epitaph, after enumerating the virtues of
+many of the name of Mary, concludes thus:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“The Army of such Ladies so Divine<br/>
+This Lady said ‘I’ll follow, they Ar-mine.’<br/>
+Lady Elect! in whom there did combine<br/>
+So many Maries, might well say All Ar-mine.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A pun was a Puritan’s one jocularity; and he would pun even in an epitaph.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It will be seen that Lady Mary Armine wears the straight collar or band, and
+the black French hood which was the forerunner, then the rival, and at last the
+survivor of the “sugar-loaf” beaver or felt hat,—a hood with a history, which
+will have a chapter for the telling thereof. Lady Mary wears a peaked widow’s
+cap under her hood; this also is a detail of much interest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another portrait of this date is of Mrs. Clark (see <a
+href="#Mrs._William_Clark.">here</a>). This has two singular details; namely, a
+thumb-ring, which was frequently owned but infrequently painted, and a singular
+bracelet, which is accurately described in the verse of Herrick, written at
+that date:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“I saw about her spotless wrist<br/>
+Of blackest silk a curious twist<br/>
+Which circumvolving gently there<br/>
+Enthralled her arm as prisoner.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I may say in passing that I have seen in portraits knots of narrow ribbon on
+the wrists, both of men and women, and I am sure they had some mourning
+significance, as did the knot of black on the left arm of the queen of King
+James of England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have in the portrait shown as a frontispiece an excellent presentment of the
+dress of the Puritan woman of refinement; the dress worn by the wives of
+Winthrop, Endicott, Leverett, Dudley, Saltonstall, and other gentlemen of Salem
+and Boston and Plymouth. We have also the dress worn by her little child about
+a year old. This portrait is of Madam Padishal. She was a Plymouth woman; and
+we know from the inventories of estates that there were not so many richly
+dressed women in Plymouth as in Boston and Salem. This dress of Madam
+Padishal’s is certainly much richer than the ordinary attire of Plymouth dames
+of that generation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This portrait has been preserved in Plymouth in the family of Judge Thomas,
+from whom it descended to the present owner. Madam Padishal was young and
+handsome when this portrait was painted. Her black velvet gown is shaped just
+like the gown of Madam Rawson (shown <a href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a>), of
+Madam Stoddard (shown <a href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>), both Boston
+women; and of the English ladies of her times. It is much richer than that of
+Lady Mary Armine or Mrs. Clark.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The gown of Madam Padishal is varied pleasingly from that of Lady Mary Armine,
+in that the body is low-necked, and the lace whisk is worn over the bare neck.
+The pearl necklace and ear-rings likewise show a more frivolous spirit than
+that of the English dame.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another Plymouth portrait of very rich dress, that of Elizabeth Paddy, Mrs.
+John Wensley, faces this page. The dress in this is a golden-brown brocade
+under-petticoat and satin overdress. The stiff, busked stays are equal to Queen
+Elizabeth’s. Revers at the edge of overdress and on the virago sleeves are now
+of flame color, a Spanish pink, but were originally scarlet, I am sure. The
+narrow stomacher is a beaded galloon with bright spangles and bugles. On the
+hair there shows above the ears a curious ornament which resembles a band of
+this galloon. There are traces of a similar ornament in Madam Rawson’s portrait
+(<a href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a>); and Madam Stoddard’s (<a
+href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>) has some ornament over the ears. This
+may have been a modification of a contemporary Dutch head-jewel. The pattern of
+the lace of Elizabeth Paddy’s whisk is most distinct; it was a good costly
+Flemish parchment lace like Mrs. Padishal’s. She carries a fan, and wears
+rings, a pearl necklace, and ear-rings. I may say here that I have never seen
+other jewels than these,—a few rings, and necklace and ear-rings of pearl.
+Other necklaces seem never to have been worn.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Elizabeth_Paddy_Wensley."></a>
+<img src="images/093.jpg" alt="Elizabeth Paddy Wensley." />
+<p class="caption">Elizabeth Paddy Wensley.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+We cannot always trust that all the jewels seen in these portraits were real,
+or that the sitter owned as many as represented. A bill is in existence where a
+painter charged ten shillings extra for bestowing a gold and pearl necklace
+upon his complaisant subject. In this case, however, the extra charge was to
+pay for the gold paint or gold-leaf used for gilding the painted necklace. In
+the amusing letters of Lady Sussex to Lord Verney are many relating to her
+portrait by Van Dyck. She consented to the painting very unwillingly, saying,
+“it is money ill bestowed.” She writes:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Put Sr Vandyke in remembrance to do my pictuer well. I have seen sables with
+the clasp of them set with diamonds—if those I am pictured in were done so, I
+think it would look very well in the pictuer. If Sr Vandyke thinks it would do
+well I pray desier him to do all the clawes so. I do not mene the end of the
+tales but only the end of the other peces, they call them clawes I think.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This gives a glimpse of a richness of detail in dress even beyond our own day,
+and one which I commend to some New York dame of vast wealth, to have the claws
+of her sables set with diamonds. She writes later in two letters of some weeks’
+difference in date:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I am glad you have prefalede with Sr Vandyke to make my pictuer leaner, for
+truly it was too fat. If he made it farer it will bee to my credit. I am glad
+you have made Sr Vandyke mind my dress.” ...
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I am glad you have got home my pictuer, but I doubt he has made it lener or
+farer, but too rich in jewels, I am sure; but ’tis no great matter for another
+age to thinke mee richer than I was. I wish it could be mended in the face for
+sure ’tis very ugly. The pictuer is very ill-favourede, makes me quite out of
+love with myselfe, the face is so bigg and so fat it pleases mee not at all. It
+looks like one of the Windes puffinge—(but truly I think it is lyke the
+original).”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+I am struck by a likeness in workmanship in the portraits of these two Plymouth
+dames, and the portrait of Madam Stoddard (<a
+href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>), and succeeding illustrations of the
+Gibbes children. I do wish I knew whether these were painted by Tom Child—a
+painter-stainer and limner referred to by Judge Samuel Sewall in his Diary, who
+was living in Boston at that time. Perhaps we may find something, some day, to
+tell us this. I feel sure these were all painted in America, especially the
+portraits of the Gibbes children. A great many coats-of-arms were made in
+Boston at this time, and I expect the painter-stainer made them. All painting
+then was called coloring. A man would say in 1700, “Archer has set us a fine
+example of expense; he has colored his house, and has even laid one room in
+oils; he had the painter-stainer from Boston to do it—the man who limns faces,
+and does pieces, and tricks coats.” This was absolutely correct English, but we
+would hardly know that the man meant: “Archer has been extravagant enough; he
+has painted his house, and even painted the woodwork of one room. He had the
+artist from Boston to do the work—the painter of faces and full-lengths, who
+makes coats-of-arms.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is hard to associate the very melancholy countenance shown <a
+href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a> with a tradition of youth and beauty. Had the
+portrait been painted after a romance of sorrow came to this young maid,
+Rebecca Rawson, we could understand her expression; but it was painted when she
+was young and beautiful, so beautiful that she caught the eye and the wandering
+affections of a wandering gentleman, who announced himself as the son of one
+nobleman and kinsman of many others, and persuaded this daughter of Secretary
+Edward Rawson to marry him, which she did in the presence of forty witnesses.
+This young married pair then went to London, where the husband deserted
+Rebecca, who found to her horror that she was not his wife, as he had at least
+one English wife living. Alone and proud, Rebecca Rawson supported herself and
+her child by painting on glass; and when at last she set out to return to her
+childhood’s home, her life was lost at sea by shipwreck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The portrait of another Boston woman of distinction, Mrs. Simeon Stoddard, is
+given <a href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>. I will attempt to explain who
+Mrs. Simeon Stoddard was. She was Mr. Stoddard’s third widow and the third
+widow also of Peter Sergeant, builder of the Province House. Mr. Sergeant’s
+second wife had been married twice before she married him, and Simeon
+Stoddard’s father had four wives, all having been widows when he married them.
+Lastly, our Mrs. Simeon Stoddard, triumphing over death and this gallimaufry of
+Boston widows, took a fourth husband, the richest merchant in town, Samuel
+Shrimpton. Having had in all four husbands of wealth, and with them and their
+accumulation of widows there must have been as a widow’s mite an immense
+increment and inheritance of clothing (for clothing we know was a valued
+bequest), it is natural that we find her very richly dressed and with a
+distinctly haughty look upon her handsome face as becomes a conqueror both of
+men and widows.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The straight, lace collar, such as is worn by Madam Padishal and shown in all
+portraits of this date, is, I believe, a whisk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The whisk was a very interesting and to us a puzzling article of attire,
+through the lack of precise description. It was at first called the
+falling-whisk, and is believed to have been simply the handsome, lace-edged,
+stiff, standing collar turned down over the shoulders. This collar had been
+both worn with the ruff and worn after it, and had been called a fall.
+Quicherat tells that the “whisk” came into universal use in 1644, when very
+low-necked gowns were worn, and that it was simply a kerchief or fichu to cover
+the neck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have a few side-lights to help us, as to the shape of the whisk, in the form
+of advertisements of lost whisks. In one case (1662) it is “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 a strap hanging down before.”
+And in 1664 “A Tiffany Whisk with a great Lace down and a little one up, of
+large Flowers, and open work; with a Roul for the Head and Peak.” The roll and
+peak were part of a cap.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard."></a>
+<img src="images/098.jpg" alt="Mrs. Simeon Stoddard." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Simeon Stoddard.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+These portraits show whisks in slightly varying forms. We have the “broad Lace
+lying down” in the handsome band at the shoulder; the “little lace standing up”
+was a narrow lace edging the whisk at the throat or just above the broad lace.
+Sometimes the whisk was wholly of mull or lawn. The whisk was at first wholly a
+part of woman’s attire, then for a time it was worn, in modified form, by men.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madam Pepys had a white whisk in 1660 and then a “noble lace whisk.” The same
+year she bought hers in London, Governor Berkeley paid half a pound for a
+tiffany whisk in Virginia. Many American women, probably all well-dressed
+women, had them. They are also seen on French portraits of the day. One of
+Madam de Maintenon shows precisely the same whisk as this of Madam Padishal’s,
+tied in front with tiny knots of ribbon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It will be noted that Madam Padishal has black lace frills about the upper
+portion of the sleeve, at the arm-scye. English portraits previous to the year
+1660 seldom show black lace, and portraits are not many of the succeeding forty
+years which have black lace, so in this American portrait this detail is
+unusual. The wearing of black lace came into a short popularity in the year
+1660, through compliment to the Spanish court upon the marriage of the young
+French king, Louis XIV, with the Infanta. The English court followed promptly.
+Pepys gloried in “our Mistress Stewart in black and white lace.” It interests
+me to see how quickly American women had the very latest court fashions and
+wore them even in uncourtlike America; such distinct novelties as black lace.
+Contemporary descriptions of dress are silent as to it by the year 1700, and it
+disappears from portraits until a century later, when we have pretty black lace
+collars, capes and fichus, as may be seen on the portraits of Mrs. Sedgwick,
+Mrs. Waldo, and others later in this book. These first black laces of 1660 are
+Bayeux laces, which are precisely like our Chantilly laces of to-day. This
+ancient piece of black lace has been carefully preserved in an old New York
+family. A portrait of the year 1690 has a black lace frill like the Maltese
+laces of to-day, with the same guipure pattern. But such laces were not made in
+Malta until after 1833. So it must have been a guipure lace of the kind known
+in England as parchment lace. This was made in the environs of Paris, but was
+seldom black, so this was a rare bit. It was sometimes made of gold and silver
+thread. Parchment lace was a favorite lace of Mary, Queen of Scots, and through
+her good offices was peddled in England by French lace-makers. The black moiré
+hoods of Italian women sometimes had a narrow edge of black lace, and a little
+was brought to England on French hoods, but as a whole black lace was seldom
+seen or known.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Ancient_Black_Lace."></a>
+<img src="images/100.jpg" alt="Ancient Black Lace." />
+<p class="caption">Ancient Black Lace.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+An evidence of the widespread extent of fashions even in that day, a proof that
+English and French women and American women (when American women there were
+other than the native squaws) all dressed alike, is found in comparing
+portraits. An interesting one from the James Jackson Jarvis Collection is now
+in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. It is of an unknown woman and by an unknown
+artist, and is simply labelled “Of the School of Susteman.” But this unknown
+Frenchwoman has a dress as precisely like Madam Padishal’s and Madam Stoddard’s
+as are Doucet’s models of to-day like each other. All have the whisk of rich
+straight-edged lace, and the tiny knots of velvet ribbon. All have the sleeve
+knots, but the French portrait is gay in narrow red and buff ribbon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Doubtless many have formed their notion of Puritan dress from the imaginary
+pictures of several popular modern artists. It can plainly be seen by any one
+who examines the portraits in this book that they are little like these modern
+representations. The single figures called “Priscilla” and “Rose Standish” are
+well known. The former is the better in costume, and could the close dark cloth
+or velvet hood with turned-back band, and plain linen edge displayed beneath,
+be exchanged for the horseshoe shaped French hood which was then and many years
+later the universal head-wear, the verisimilitude would be increased. This hood
+is shown on the portraits of Madam Rawson, Madam Stoddard, Mistress Paddy, and
+others in this book. Rose Standish’s cap is a very pretty one, much prettier
+than the French hood, but I do not find it like any cap in English portraits of
+that day. Nor have I seen her picturesque sash. I do not deny the existence in
+portraits of 1620 of this cap and sash; I simply say that I have never found
+them myself in the hundreds of English portraits, effigies, etc., that I have
+examined.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It will be noted that the women in the modern pictures all wear aprons. I think
+this is correct as they are drawn in their everyday dress, but it will be noted
+that none of these portraits display an apron; nor was an apron part of any
+rich dress in the seventeenth century. The reign of the apron had been in the
+sixteenth century, and it came in again with Anne. Of course every woman in
+Massachusetts used aprons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Early inventories of the effects of emigrant dames contain many an item of
+those housewifely garments. Jane Humphreys, of Dorchester, Massachusetts, had
+in her good wardrobe, in 1668, “2 Blew aprons, A White Holland Apron with a
+Small Lace at the bottom. A White Holland Apron with two breathes in it. My
+best white apron. My greene apron.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the pictures, <i>The Return of the Mayflower</i> and <i>The Pilgrim
+Exiles</i>, the masculine dress therein displayed is very close to that of the
+real men of the times. The great power of these pictures is, after all, not in
+the dress, but in the expression of the faces. The artist has portrayed the
+very spirit of pure religious feeling, self-denial, home-longing, and sadness
+of exile which we know must have been imprinted on those faces.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lack of likeness in the women’s dress is more through difference of figure
+and carriage and an indescribable cut of the garments than in detail, except in
+one adjunct, the sleeve, which is wholly unlike the seventeenth-century sleeve
+in these portraits. I have ever deemed the sleeve an important part both of a
+man’s coat and a woman’s gown. The tailor in the old play, <i>The Maid of the
+Mill</i>, says, “O Sleeve! O Sleeve! I’ll study all night, madam, to magnify
+your sleeves!” By its inelegant shape a garment may be ruined. By its grace it
+accents the beauty of other portions of the apparel. In these pictures of
+Puritan attire, it has proved able to make or mar the likeness to the real
+dress. It is now a component part of both outer and inner garment. It was
+formerly extraneous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the reign of Henry VIII, the sleeve was generally a separate article of
+dress and the most gorgeous and richly ornamented portion of the dress. Outer
+and inner sleeves were worn by both men and women, for their doublets were
+sleeveless. Elizabeth gradually banished the outer hanging sleeve, though she
+retained the detached sleeve.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sleeves had grown gravely offensive to Puritans; the slashing was excessive. A
+Massachusetts statute of 1634 specifies that “No man or woman shall make or buy
+any slashed clothes other than one slash in each sleeve and another in the
+back. Men and women shall have liberty to wear out such apparell as they now
+are provided of except the immoderate great sleeves and slashed apparel.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Virago-sleeve."></a>
+<img src="images/104.jpg" alt="Virago-sleeve." />
+<p class="caption">Virago-sleeve.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Size and slashes were both held to be a waste of good cloth. “Immoderate great
+sleeves” could never be the simple coat sleeve with cuff in which our modern
+artists are given to depicting Virginian and New England dames. Doubtless the
+general shape of the dress was simple enough, but the sleeve was the only part
+which was not close and plain and unornamented. I have found no close coat
+sleeves with cuffs upon any old American portraits. I recall none on English
+portraits. You may see them, though rarely, in England under hanging sleeves
+upon figures which have proved valuable conservators of fashion, albeit sombre
+of design and rigid of form, namely, effigies in stone or metal upon old tombs;
+these not after the year 1620, though these are really a small “leg-of-mutton”
+sleeve being gathered into the arm-scye. A beautiful brass in a church on the
+Isle of Wight is dated 1615. This has long, hanging sleeves edged with leaflike
+points of cut-work; cuffs of similar work turn back from the wrists of the
+undersleeves. A <i>Satyr</i> by Fitzgeffrey, published the same year, complains
+that the wrists of women and men are clogged with bush-points, ribbons, or
+rebato-twists. “Double cufts” is an entry in a Plymouth inventory—which
+explains itself. In the hundreds of inventories I have investigated I have
+never seen half a dozen entries of cuffs. The two or three I have found have
+been specified as “lace cuffs.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, wrote with a vivid pen; one of his own
+followers said with severity, “He paints high.” Some of his denunciations of
+the dress of his day afford a very good notion of the peculiarities of
+contemporary costume; though he may be read with this caution in mind. He
+writes deploringly of women’s sleeves (in the year 1654); it will be noted that
+he refers to double cuffs:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The women having their cuffs double under and above, like a butcher with his
+white sleeves, their ribands tied about their hands, and three or four gold
+laces about their clothes.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="NinondelEnclos"></a>
+<img src="images/106.jpg" alt="Ninon de l’Enclos." />
+<p class="caption">Ninon de l’Enclos.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+There were three generations of English heralds named Holme, all genealogists,
+and all artists; they have added much to our knowledge of old English dress.
+Randle Holme, the Chester herald, lived in the reign of Charles II, and
+increased a collection of manuscript begun by his grandfather and now forming
+part of the Harleian Collection in the British Museum. He wrote also the
+<i>Academy of Armoury</i>, published in 1688, and made a vast number of
+drawings for it, as well as for his other works. His note-books of drawings are
+preserved. In one of them he gives drawings of the sleeve which is found on
+every seventeenth-century portrait of American women which I have ever seen. He
+calls this a virago-sleeve. It was worn in Queen Elizabeth’s day, but was a
+French fashion. It is gathered very full in the shoulder and again at the
+wrist, or at the forearm. At intervals between, it is drawn in by
+gathering-strings of narrow ribbons, or ferret, which are tied in a pretty knot
+or rose on the upper part of the sleeve. One from a French portrait is given <a
+href="#Virago-sleeve.">here</a>. Madam Ninon de l’Enclos also wears one. This
+gathering may be at the elbow, forming thus two puffs, or there may be several
+such drawing-strings. I have seen a virago-sleeve with five puffs. It is a fine
+decorative sleeve, not always shapely, perhaps, but affording in the pretty
+knots of ribbon some relief to the severity of the rest of the dress.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stubbes wrote, “Some have sleeves cut up the arm, drawn out with sundry
+colours, pointed with silk ribbands, and very gallantly tied with love knotts.”
+It was at first a convention of fashion, and it lingered long in some
+modification, that wherever there was a slash there was a knot of ribbon or a
+bunch of tags or aglets. This in its origin was really that the slash might be
+tied together. Ribbon knots were much worn; the early days of the great court
+of Louis XIV saw an infinite use of ribbons for men and women. When, in the
+closing years of the century, rows of these knots were placed on either side of
+the stiff busk with bars of ribbon forming a stomacher, they were called
+<i>echelles</i>, ladders. <i>The Ladies’ Dictionary</i> (1694) says they were
+“much in request.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This virago-sleeve was worn by women of all ages and by children, both boys and
+girls. A virago-sleeve is worn by Rebecca Rawson (<a
+href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a>), and by Mrs. Simeon Stoddard (<a
+href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>), by Madam Padishal and by her little
+girl, and by the Gibbes child shown later in the book.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A carved figure of Anne Stotevill (1631) is in Westminster Abbey. Her dress is
+a rich gown slightly open in front at the foot. It has ornamental hooks, or
+frogs, with a button at each end—these are in groups of three, from chin to
+toe. Four groups of three frogs each, on both sides, make twenty-four, thus
+giving forty-eight buttons. A stiff ruff is at the neck, and similar smaller
+ones at the wrist. She wears a French hood with a loose scarf over it. She has
+a very graceful virago-sleeve with handsome knots of ribbon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is certain that men’s sleeves and women’s sleeves kept ever close company.
+Neither followed the other; they walked abreast. If a woman’s sleeves were
+broad and scalloped, so was the man’s. If the man had a tight and narrow
+sleeve, so did his wife. When women had virago-sleeves, so did men. Even in the
+nineteenth century, at the first coming of leg-of-mutton sleeves in 1830 <i>et
+seq</i>., dandies’ sleeves were gathered full at the armhole. In the second
+reign of these vast sleeves a few years ago, man had emancipated himself from
+the reign of woman’s fashions, and his sleeves remained severely plain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Small invoices of fashionable clothing were constantly being sent across seas.
+There were sent to and from England and other countries “ventures,” which were
+either small lots of goods sent on speculation to be sold in the New World, or
+a small sum given by a private individual as a “venture,” with instructions to
+purchase abroad anything of interest or value that was salable. To take charge
+of these petty commercial transactions, there existed an officer, now obsolete,
+known as a supercargo. It is told that one Providence ship went out with the
+ventures of one hundred and fifty neighbors on board—that is, one hundred and
+fifty persons had some money or property at stake on the trip. Three hundred
+ventures were placed with another supercargo. Sometimes women sent sage from
+their gardens, or ginseng if they could get it. A bunch of sage paid in China
+for a porcelain tea-set. Along the coast, women ventured food-supplies,—cheese,
+eggs, butter, dried apples, pickles, even hard gingerbread; another sent a
+barrel of cider vinegar. Clothes in small lots were constantly being bought and
+sold on a venture. From London, in November, 1667, Walter Banesely sent as a
+venture to William Pitkin in Hartford these articles of clothing with their
+prices:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound;</td><td>s.</td></tr>
+<tr><td> “1 Paire Pinck Colour’d mens hose</td><td>1</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>10 Paire Mens Silke Hose, 17s per pair</td><td>8</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>10 Paire Womens Silke Hose, 16s per pair</td><td>1</td><td> 12</td></tr>
+<tr><td> 10 Paire Womens Green Hose</td><td>6</td><td> 10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pinck Colour’d Stomacher made of Knotts</td><td>3</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pinck Colour’d Wastcote</td></tr> <tr><td>A Black Sute of Padisuay. Hatt,</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Hatt band, Shoo knots &amp;; trunk.</td></tr>
+<tr><td> The wastcote and stomacher are a</td></tr>
+<tr><td> Venture of my wife’s; the Silke Stockens mine own.”</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+There remains another means of information of the dress of Puritan women in
+what was the nearest approach to a collection of fashion-plates which the times
+afforded.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Lady_Catharina_Howard."></a>
+<img src="images/110.jpg" alt="Lady Catharina Howard." />
+<p class="caption">Lady Catharina Howard.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the year 1640 a collection of twenty-six pictures of Englishwomen was issued
+by one Wenceslas Hollar, an engraver and drawing-master, with this title,
+<i>Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus. The severall Habits of Englishwomen, from the
+Nobilitie to the Country Woman As they are in these Times.</i> These bear the
+same relation to portraits showing what was really worn, as do fashion-plates
+to photographs. They give us the shapes of gowns, bonnets, etc., yet are not
+precisely the real thing. The value of this special set is found in three
+points: First, the drawings confirm the testimony of Lely, Van Dyck, and other
+artists; they prove how slightly Van Dyck idealized the costume of his sitters.
+Second, they give representations of folk in the lower walks of life; such folk
+were not of course depicted in portraits. Third, the drawings are full length,
+which the portraits are not. Four of these drawings are reduced and shown <a
+href="#Costumes_of_Englishwomen_of_the_Seventeenth_Century.">here</a>. I give
+<a href="#A_Puritan_Dame.">here</a> the one entitled <i>The Puritan Woman</i>,
+though it is one of the most disappointing in the whole collection. It is such
+a negative presentation; so little marked detail or even associated evidence is
+gained from it. I had a baffled thought after examining it that I knew less of
+Puritan dress than without it. I see that they gather up their gowns for
+walking after a mode known in later years as washerwoman style. And by that
+very gathering up we lose what the drawing might have told us; namely, how the
+gowns were shaped in the back; how attached to the waist or bodice; and how the
+bodice was shaped at the waist, whether it had a straight belt, whether it was
+pointed, whether slashed in tabs or laps like a samare. The sleeve, too, is
+concealed, and the kerchief hides everything else. We know these kerchiefs were
+worn among the “fifty other ways,” for some portraits have them; but the whisk
+was far more common. Lady Catharina Howard, aged eleven in the year 1646, was
+drawn by Hollar in a kerchief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There had been some change in the names of women’s attire in twenty years,
+since 1600, when the catalogue of the Queen’s wardrobe was made. Exclusive of
+the Coronation, Garter, Parliament, and mourning robes, it ran thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Robes.<br/>
+Petticoats.<br/>
+French gowns. <br/>
+Cloaks.<br/>
+Round gowns. <br/>
+Safeguards.<br/>
+Loose gowns.<br/>
+Jupes.<br/>
+Kirtles.<br/>
+Doublets.<br/>
+Foreparts.<br/>
+Lap mantles.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In her New Year’s gifts were also, “strayt-bodyed gowns, trayn-gowns,
+waist-robes, night rayls, shoulder cloaks, inner sleeves, round kirtles.” She
+also had nightgowns and jackets, and underwear, hose, and various forms of
+foot-gear. Many of these garments never came to America. Some came under new
+names. Many quickly disappeared from wardrobes. I never read in early American
+inventories of robes, either French robes or plain robes. Round gowns, loose
+gowns, petticoats, cloaks, safeguards, lap mantles, sleeves, nightgowns,
+nightrails, and night-jackets continued in wear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have never found the word forepart in this distinctive signification nor the
+word kirtle; though our modern writers of historical novels are most liberal of
+kirtles to their heroines. It is a pretty, quaint name, and ought to have
+lingered with us; but “what a deformed thief this Fashion is”—it will not leave
+with us garment or name that we like simply because it pleases us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Doublets were worn by women.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The Women also have doublets and Jerkins as men have, buttoned up the brest,
+and made with Wings, Welts and Pinions on shoulder points as men’s apparell is
+for all the world, &amp;; though this be a kind of attire appropriate only to
+Man yet they blush not to wear it.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Anne Hibbins, the <i>witch</i>, had a black satin doublet among other
+substantial attire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A fellow-barrister of Governor John Winthrop, Sergeant Erasmus Earle, a most
+uxorious husband, was writing love-letters to his wife Frances, who lived out
+of London, at the same time that Winthrop was writing to Margaret Winthrop.
+Earle was much concerned over a certain doublet he had ordered for his wife. He
+had bought the blue bayes for this garment in two pieces, and he could not
+decide whether the shorter piece should go into the sleeve or the body, whether
+it should have skirts or not. If it did not, then he had bought too much silver
+lace, which troubled him sorely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Margaret Winthrop had better instincts; to her husband’s query as to sending
+trimming for her doublet and gown, she answers, “<i>When I see the cloth</i> I
+will send word what trimming will serve;” and she writes to London, insisting
+on “the civilest fashion now in use,” and for Sister Downing, who is still in
+England, to give Tailor Smith directions “that he may make it the better.” Mr.
+Smith sent scissors and a hundred needles and the like homely gifts across seas
+as “tokens” to various members of the Winthrop household, showing his friendly
+intimacy with them all. For many years after America was settled we find no
+evidence that women’s garments were ever made by mantua-makers. All the bills
+which exist are from tailors. One of William Sweatland for work done for
+Jonathan Corwin of Salem is in the library of the American Antiquarian
+Society:—
+</p>
+
+<table>
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound;</td><td>s.</td><td>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>“Sept. 29, 1679. To plaiting a gown for Mrs.</td><td></td><td>3</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a Childs Coat</td><td></td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a Scarlet petticoat with Silver Lace for Mrs.</td><td></td><td>9</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For new makeing a plush somar for Mrs.</td><td></td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Dec. 22, 1679. For makeing a somar for your Maide</td><td></td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Mar. 10, 1679. To a yard of Callico</td><td></td><td>2</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To 1 Douzen and 1/2 of silver buttons</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To Thread</td><td></td><td></td><td>4</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a broad cloth hatte</td><td></td><td>14</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a haire Camcottcoat</td><td></td><td>9</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing new halfsleeves to a silk Coascett</td><td></td><td>1</td></tr>
+<tr><td>March 25. To altering and fitting a paire of Stays for Mrs</td><td></td><td>1</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Ap. 2, 1680, to makeing a Gowne for ye Maide</td><td></td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>May 20. For removing buttons of yr coat.</td><td></td><td></td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Juli 25, 1630. For makeing two Hatts and Jacketts for your two sonnes</td><td></td><td>19</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Aug. 14. To makeing a white Scarsonnett plaited Gowne for Mrs</td><td></td><td>8</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a black broad cloth Coat for yourselfe</td><td></td><td>9</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Sept. 3, 1868. To makeing a Silke Laced Gowne for Mrs</td><td>1</td><td>8</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Oct. 7, 1860, to makeing a Young Childs Coate</td><td></td><td>4</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To faceing your Owne Coat Sleeves</td><td></td><td>1</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To new plaiting a petty Coat for Mrs</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Nov. 7. To makeing a black broad Cloth Gowne for Mrs</td><td></td><td>18</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Feb. 26, 1680-1. To Searing a Petty Coat for Mrs</td><td></td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td>—-</td><td>—-</td><td>—-</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td>Sum is, &pound;;8</td><td> 4s.</td><td>10d.</td><td>”</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+From many bills and inventories we learn that the time of the settlement of
+Plymouth and Boston reached a transitional period in women’s dress as it did in
+men’s. Mrs. Winthrop had doublets as had Governor Winthrop, but I think her
+daughter wore gowns when her sons wore coats. The doublet for a woman was
+shaped like that of a man, and was of double thickness like a man’s. It might
+be sleeveless, with a row of welts or wings around the armhole; or if it had
+sleeves the welts, or a roll or cap, still remained. The trimming of the
+arm-scye was universal, both for men and women. A fuller description of the
+doublet than has ever before been written will be given in the chapter upon the
+Evolution of the Coat. The “somar” which is the samare, named also in the bill
+of the Salem tailor, seems to have been a Dutch garment, and was so much worn
+in New York that I prefer to write of it in the following chapter. We are then
+left with the gown; the gown which took definite shape in Elizabeth’s day. Of
+course no one could describe it like Stubbes. I frankly confess my inability to
+approach him. Read his words, so concise yet full of color and conveying
+detail; I protest it is wonderful.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Their Gowns be no less famous, some of silk velvet grogram taffety fine cloth
+of forty shillings a yard. But if the whole gown be not silke or velvet then
+the same shall be layed with lace two or three fingers broade all over the
+gowne or the most parte. Or if not so (as Lace is not fine enough sometimes)
+then it must be garded with great gardes of costly Lace, and as these gowns be
+of sundry colours so they be of divers fashions changing with the Moon. Some
+with sleeves hanging down to their skirts, trayling on the ground, and cast
+over the shoulders like a cow’s tayle. These have sleeves much shorter, cut up
+the arme, and pointed with Silke-ribons very gallantly tyed with true loves
+knottes—(for soe they call them). Some have capes fastened down to the middist
+of their backs, faced with velvet or else with some fine wrought silk Taffeetie
+at the least, and fringed about Bravely, and (to sum up all in a word) some are
+pleated and ryveled down the back wonderfully with more knacks than I can
+declare.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The guards of lace a finger broad laid on over the seams of the gown are
+described by Pepys in his day. He had some of these guards of gold lace taken
+from the seams of one of his wife’s old gowns to overlay the seams of one of
+his own cassocks and rig it up for wear, just as he took his wife’s old muff,
+like a thrifty husband, and bought her a new muff, like a kind one. Not such a
+domestic frugalist was he, though, as his contemporary, the great political
+economist, Dudley North, Baron Guildford, Lord Sheriff of London, who loved to
+sit with his wife ripping off the old guards of lace from her gown, “unpicking”
+her gown, he called it, and was not at all secret about it. Both men walked
+abroad to survey the gems and guards worn by their neighbors’ wives, and to
+bring home word of new stuffs, new trimmings, to their own wives. Really a
+seventeenth-century husband was not so bad. Note in my <i>Life of Margaret
+Winthrop</i> how Winthrop’s fellow-barrister, Sergeant Erasmus Earle, bought
+camlet and lace, and patterns for doublets for his wife Frances Fontayne, and
+ran from London clothier to London mantua-maker, and then to London haberdasher
+and London tailor, to learn the newest weaves of cloth, the newest drawing in
+of the sleeves. I know no nineteenth-century husband of that name who would
+hunt materials and sleeve patterns, and buy doublet laces and find gown-guards
+for his wife. And then the gown sleeves! What a description by Stubbes of the
+virago-sleeve “tied in and knotted with silk ribbons in love-knots!” It is all
+wonderful to read.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We learn from these tailors’ bills that tailors’ work embraced far more
+articles than to-day; in the <i>Orbis Sensualium Pictus</i>, 1659, a tailor’s
+shop has hanging upon the wall woollen hats, breeches, waistcoats, jackets,
+women’s cloaks, and petticoats. There are also either long hose or lasts for
+stretching hose, for they made stockings, leggins, gaiters, buskins; also a
+number of boxes which look like muff-boxes. One tailor at work is seated upon a
+platform raised about a foot from the floor. His seat is a curious bench with
+two legs about two feet long and two about one foot long. The base of the two
+long legs are on the floor, the other two set upon the platform. The tailor’s
+feet are on the platform, thus his work is held well up before his face.
+Sometimes his legs are crossed upon the platform in front of him. The platform
+was necessary, or, at any rate, advisable for another reason. The habits of
+Englishmen at that time, their manners and customs, I mean, were not tidy; and
+floors were very dirty. Any garment resting on the floor would have been too
+soiled for a gentleman’s wear before it was donned at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have discovered one thing about old-time tailors,—they were just as trying as
+their successors, and had as many tricks of trade. A writer in 1582 says, “If a
+tailor makes your gown too little, he covers his fault with a broad stomacher;
+if too great, with a number of pleats; if too short, with a fine guard; if too
+long with a false gathering.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In several of the household accounts of colonial dames which I have examined I
+have found the prices and items very confusing and irregular when compared with
+tailors’ bills and descriptive notes and letters accompanying them. And in one
+case I was fain to believe that the lady’s account-book had been kept upon the
+plan devised by the simple Mrs. Pepys,—a plan which did anger her spouse Samuel
+“most mightily.” He was filled with admiration of her household-lists—her
+kitchen accounts. He admired in the modern sense of the word “admire”; then he
+admired in the old-time meaning—of suspicious wonder. For albeit she could do
+through his strenuous teaching but simple sums in “Arithmetique,” had never
+even attempted long division, yet she always rendered to her husband perfectly
+balanced accounts, month after month. At last, to his angry queries, she
+whimpered that “whenever she doe misse a sum of money, she do add some sums to
+other things,” till she made it perfectly correct in her book—a piece of such
+simple duplicity that I wonder her husband had not suspected it months before.
+And she also revealed to him that she “would lay aside money for a necklace” by
+pretending to pay more for household supplies than she really had, and then
+tying up the extra amount in a stocking foot. He writes, “I find she is very
+cunning and when she makes least show hath her wits at work; and <i>so</i> to
+my office to my accounts.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Costumes_of_Englishwomen_of_the_Seventeenth_Century."></a>
+<img src="images/119.jpg" alt="Costumes of Englishwomen of the Seventeenth
+Century." />
+<p class="caption">Costumes of Englishwomen of the Seventeenth Century.
+</p></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS</h3>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Two things I love, two usuall thinges they are:<br/>
+The Firste, New-fashioned cloaths I love to wear,<br/>
+Newe Tires, newe Ruffes; aye, and newe Gestures too<br/>
+In all newe Fashions I do love to goe.<br/>
+    The Second Thing I love is this, I weene<br/>
+    To ride aboute to have those Newe Cloaths scene.<br/>
+<br/>
+“At every Gossipping I am at still<br/>
+And ever wilbe—maye I have my will.<br/>
+For at ones own Home, praie—who is’t can see<br/>
+How fyne in new-found fashioned Tyres we bee?<br/>
+Vnless our Husbands—Faith! but very fewe!—<br/>
+And whoo’d goe gaie, to please a Husband’s view?<br/>
+    Alas! wee wives doe take but small Delight<br/>
+    If none (besides our husbands) see that Sight”<br/>
+<br/>
+—“The Gossipping Wives Complaint,” 1611 (circa).
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="95" height="92" src="images/initiali.jpg" alt="I" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+t is a matter of deep regret that no “Lists of Apparel” were made out for the
+women emigrants in any of the colonies. Doubtless many came who had a distinct
+allotment of clothing, among them the redemptioners. We know one case, that of
+the “Casket Girls,” of Louisiana, where a group of “virtuous, modest,
+well-carriaged young maids” each had a casket or box of clothing supplied to
+her as part of her payment for emigration. I wish we had these lists, not that
+I should deem them of great value or accuracy in one respect since they would
+have been made out naturally by men, but because I should like to read the
+struggles of the average shipping-clerk or supercargo, or even shipping-master
+or company’s president, over the items of women’s dress. One reason why the
+lists we have in the court records are so wildly spelled and often vague is, I
+am sure, because the recording-clerks were always men. Such hopeless puzzles as
+droll or drowlas, cale or caul or kail, chatto or shadow, shabbaroon or
+chaperone, have come to us through these poor struggling gentlemen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There are not to my knowledge any portraits in existence of the wives of the
+first Dutch settlers of New Netherland. They would have been dressed, I am
+sure, in the full dress of Holland vrouws. We can turn to the court records of
+New Netherland to learn the exact item of the dress of the settlers. Let me
+give in full this inventory of an exceptionally rich and varied wardrobe of
+Madam Jacob de Lange of New Amsterdam, 1662:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound;;</td><td> s.</td><td>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One under petticoat with a body of red bay</td><td>1</td><td>7</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One under petticoat, scarlet</td><td>1</td><td>15</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One petticoat, red cloth with black lace</td><td>2</td><td>15</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One striped stuff petticoat with black lace</td><td>2</td><td>8</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Two colored drugget petticoats with gray linings</td><td>1</td><td>2</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Two colored drugget petticoats with white linings</td><td></td><td>18</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One colored drugget petticoat with pointed lace</td><td></td><td>8</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One black silk petticoat with ash gray silk lining</td><td>1</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One potto-foo silk petticoat with black silk lining</td><td>2</td><td>15</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One potto-foo silk petticoat with taffeta lining</td><td>1</td><td>13</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One silk potoso-a-samare with lace</td><td>3</td><td></td></tr>
+<tr><td>One tartanel samare with tucker</td><td>1</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One black silk crape samare with tucker</td><td>1</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Three flowered calico samares</td><td>2</td><td>17</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Three calico nightgowns, one flowered, two red</td><td></td><td>7</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One silk waistcoat, one calico waistcoa.</td><td></td><td>14</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One pair of bodices</td><td></td><td>4</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Five pair white cotton stockings</td><td></td><td>9</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Three black love-hoods</td><td></td><td>5</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One white love-hood</td><td></td><td>2</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Two pair sleeves with great lace</td><td>1</td><td>3</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Four cornet caps with lace</td><td>3</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One black silk rain cloth cap</td><td></td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One black plush mask</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Four yellow lace drowlas</td><td></td><td>2</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+This is a most interesting list of garments. The sleeves with great lace must
+from their price have been very rich articles of dress. The yellow lace
+drowlas, since there were four of them (and no other neckerchiefs, such as
+gorgets, piccadillies, or whisks are named), must have been neckwear of some
+form. I suspect they are the lace drowls or drolls to which I refer in a
+succeeding chapter on A Vain Puritan Grandmother. The rain cloth cap of black
+silk is curious also, being intended to wear over another cap or a love-hood.
+The cornet caps with lace are a Dutch fashion. The “lace” was in the form of
+lappets or pinners which flapped down at the side of the face over the ears and
+almost over the cheeks. Evelyn speaks of a woman in “a cornet with the upper
+pinner dangling about her cheeks like hound’s ears.” Cotgrave tells in rather
+vague definition that a cornet is “a fashion of Shadow or Boone Grace used in
+old time and to this day by old women.” It was not like a bongrace, nor like
+the cap I always have termed a shadow, but it had two points like broad horns
+or ears with lace or gauze spread over both and hanging from these horns.
+Cornets and corneted caps are often in Dutch inventories in early New York. And
+they can be seen in old Dutch pictures. They were one of the few distinctly
+Dutch modes that lingered in New Netherland; but by the third generation from
+the settlement they had disappeared.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._Livingstone."></a>
+<img src="images/124.jpg" alt="Mrs. Livingstone." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Livingstone.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+What the words “potto-foo” and “potoso-a-samare” mean I cannot decipher. I have
+tried to find Dutch words allied in sound but in vain. I believe the samare was
+a Dutch fashion. We rarely find samares worn in Virginia and Maryland, but the
+name frequently occurs in the first Dutch inventories in New Netherland and
+occasionally in the Connecticut valley, where there were a few Dutch settlers;
+occasionally also in Plymouth, whose first settlers had been for a number of
+years under Dutch influences in Holland; and rarely in Salem and Boston, whose
+planters also had felt Dutch influences through the settling in Essex and
+Suffolk of opulent Flemish and Dutch “clothiers”—cloth-workers. These Dutchmen
+had married Englishwomen, and their presence in English homes was distinctly
+shown by the use then and to the present day of Dutch words, Dutch articles of
+dress, furniture, and food. From these Dutch-settled shires of Essex and
+Suffolk came John Winthrop and all the so-called Bay Emigration.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I am convinced that a samare was a certain garment which I have seen in French,
+Dutch, and English portraits of the day. It is a tight-fitting jacket or waist
+or bodice—call it what you will; its skirt or portion below the belt-line is
+four to eight inches deep, cut up in tabs or oblong flaps, four on each side.
+These slits are to the belt line. It is, to explain further, a basque,
+tight-fitting or with the waist laid in plaits, and with the basque skirt cut
+in eight tabs. These laps or tabs set out rather stiffly and squarely over the
+full-gathered petticoats of the day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I turn to a Dutch dictionary for a definition of the word “samare,” though my
+Dutch dictionary being of the date 1735 is too recent a publication to be of
+much value. In it a samare is defined simply as a woman’s gown. Randle Holme
+says, rather vaguely, that it is a short jacket for women’s wear with four
+side-laps, reaching to the knees. In this rich wardrobe of the widow De Lange,
+twelve petticoats are enumerated and no overdress-jacket or doublet of any kind
+except those samares. Their price shows that they were not a small garment. One
+“silk potoso-a-samare with lace” was worth &pound;;3. One “tartanel samare with
+tucker” was worth &pound;;1 10s. One “black silk crape samare with tucker” was
+worth &pound;;1 10s., and three “flowered calico” samares were worth &pound;;2
+10s. They were evidently of varying weights for summer and winter wear, and
+were worn over the rich petticoat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The bill of the Salem tailor, William Sweatland (1679), shows that he charged
+9s. for making a scarlet petticoat with silver lace; for making a black
+broadcloth gown 18s.; while “new-makeing a plush somar for Mistress.” (which
+was making over) was 6s.; “making a somar for your Maide” was 10s., which was
+the same price he charged for making a gown for the maid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The colors in the Dutch gowns were uniformly gay. Madam Cornelia de Vos in a
+green cloth petticoat, a red and blue “Haarlamer” waistcoat, a pair of red and
+yellow sleeves, a white cornet cap, green stockings with crimson clocks, and a
+purple “Pooyse” apron was a blooming flower-bed of color.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._Magdalen_Beekman."></a>
+<img src="images/127.jpg" alt="Mrs. Magdalen Beekman." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Magdalen Beekman.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+I fear we have unconsciously formed our mental pictures of our Dutch
+forefathers through the vivid descriptions of Washington Irving. We certainly
+cannot improve upon his account of the Dutch housewife of New Amsterdam:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Their hair, untortured by the abominations of art, was scrupulously pomatumed
+back from their foreheads with a candle, and covered with a little cap of
+quilted calico, which fitted exactly to their heads. Their petticoats of
+linsey-woolsey were striped with a variety of gorgeous dyes, though I must
+confess those gallant garments were rather short, scarce reaching below the
+knee; but then they made up in the number, which generally equalled that of the
+gentlemen’s small-clothes; and what is still more praise-worthy, they were all
+of their own manufacture,—of which circumstance, as may well be supposed, they
+were not a little vain.<br/>
+<br/>
+“Those were the honest days, in which every woman stayed at home, read the
+Bible, and wore pockets,—ay, and that, too, of a goodly size, fashioned with
+patchwork into many curious devices, and ostentatiously worn on the outside.
+These, in fact, were convenient receptacles where all good housewives carefully
+stored away such things as they wished to have at hand; by which means they
+often came to be incredibly crammed.<br/>
+<br/>
+“Besides these notable pockets, they likewise wore scissors and pincushions
+suspended from their girdles by red ribbons, or, among the more opulent and
+showy classes, by brass and even silver chains, indubitable tokens of thrifty
+housewives and industrious spinsters. I cannot say much in vindication of the
+shortness of the petticoats; it doubtless was introduced for the purpose of
+giving the stockings a chance to be seen, which were generally of blue worsted,
+with magnificent red clocks; or perhaps to display a well-turned ankle and a
+neat though serviceable foot, set off by a high-heeled leathern shoe, with a
+large and splendid silver buckle.<br/>
+<br/>
+“There was a secret charm in those petticoats, which no doubt entered into the
+consideration of the prudent gallants. The wardrobe of a lady was in those days
+her only fortune; and she who had a good stock of petticoats and stockings was
+as absolutely an heiress as is a Kamtschatka damsel with a store of bear-skins,
+or a Lapland belle with plenty of reindeer.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A Boston lady, Madam Knights, visiting New York in 1704, wrote also with clear
+pen:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The English go very fashionable in their dress. But the Dutch, especially the
+middling sort, differ from our women, in their habitt go loose, wear French
+muches which are like a Capp and headband in one, leaving their ears bare,
+which are sett out with jewells of a large size and many in number; and their
+fingers hoop’t with rings, some with large stones in them of many Coullers, as
+were their pendants in their ears, which you should see very old women wear as
+well as Young.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The jewels of one settler of New Amsterdam were unusually rich (in 1650), and
+were enumerated thus:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td> &pound;;</td><td> s.</td><td>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One embroidered purse with silver bugle and chain to the girdle and silver hook and eye</td><td>1</td><td>4</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One pair black pendants, gold nocks</td><td></td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One gold boat, wherein thirteen diamonds &amp;; one white coral chain</td><td> 16</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One pair gold stucks or pendants each with ten diamonds</td><td>25</td></tr>
+<tr><td> Two diamond rings</td><td> 24</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One gold ring with clasp beck</td><td></td><td>12</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One gold ring or hoop bound round with diamonds</td><td>2</td><td> 10</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+These jewels were owned by the wife of an English-born citizen; but some of the
+Dutch dames had handsome jewels, especially rich chatelaines with their
+equipages and etuis with rich and useful articles in variety. When we read of
+such articles, we find it difficult to credit the words of an English clergyman
+who visited Albany about the year 1700; namely, that he found the Dutch women
+of best Albany families going about their homes in summer time and doing their
+household work while barefooted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many conditions existed in Maryland which were found nowhere else in the
+colonies. These were chiefly topographical. The bay and its many and
+accommodative tide-water estuaries gave the planters the means, not only of
+easy, cheap, and speedy communication with each other, but with the whole
+world. It was a freedom of intercourse not given to any other
+<i>agricultural</i> community in the whole world. It was said that every
+planter had salt water within a rifle-shot of his front gate—therefore the
+world was open to him. The tide is never strong enough on this shore to hinder
+a sailboat nor is the current of the rivers perceptible. The crop of the
+settlers was wholly tobacco—indeed, all the processes of government, of
+society, of domestic life, began and ended with tobacco. It was a wonderfully
+lucrative crop, but it was an unhappy one for any colony; for the tobacco ships
+arrived in fleets only in May and June, when the crops were ready for market.
+The ships could come in anywhere by tide-water. Hence there were two or three
+months of intense excitement, or jollity, lavishness, extravagance, when these
+ships were in; a regular Bartholomew Fair of disorder, coarse wit, and rough
+fun; and the rest of the year there was nothing; no business, no money, no fun.
+Often the planter found himself after a month of June gambling and fun with
+three years’ crops pledged in advance to his creditors. The factor then played
+his part; took a mortgage, perhaps, on both crops and plantation; and
+invariably ended in owning everything. A striking but coarse picture of the
+traffic and its evils is given in <i>The Sot-weed Factor</i>, a poem of the
+day.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Lady_Anne_Clifford."></a>
+<img src="images/131.jpg" alt="Lady Anne Clifford." />
+<p class="caption">Lady Anne Clifford.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Land and living were cheap in this tobacco land, but labor was needed for the
+sudden crops; so negro slaves were bought, and warm invitations were sent back
+to England for all and every kind of labor. Convicts were welcomed,
+redemptioners were eagerly sought for; and the scrupulous laws which were made
+for their protection were blazoned in England. Many laborers were “crimped,”
+too, in England, and brought of course, willy-nilly, to Maryland. Landlords
+were even granted lands in proportion to their number of servants; a hundred
+acres per capita was the allowance. It can readily be seen that an ambitious or
+unscrupulous planter would gather in in some way as many heads as possible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Maryland under the Baltimores was the only colony that then admitted
+convicts—that is, admitted them openly and legally. She even greeted them
+warmly, eager for the labor of their hands, which was often skilled labor;
+welcomed them for their wits, albeit these had often been ill applied; welcomed
+them for their manners, often amply refined; welcomed them for their
+possibilities of rehabilitation of morals and behavior.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The kidnapped servants did not fare badly. Many examples are known where they
+worked on until they had acquired ample means; still the literature of the day
+is full of complaints such as this in <i>The Sot-weed Factor</i>:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Not then a slave; for twice two years<br/>
+My clothes were fashionably new.<br/>
+Nor were my shifts of linen blue.<br/>
+But Things are Changed. Now at the Hoe<br/>
+I daily work; and Barefoot go.<br/>
+In weeding Corn, or feeding Swine<br/>
+I spend my melancholy time.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cheap ballads were sold in England warning English maidens against kidnapping.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the collection of Old Black Letter Ballads in the British Museum is one
+entitled <i>The Trappan’d Maiden or the Distressed Damsel</i>. Its date is
+believed to be 1670.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“The Girl was cunningly trappan’d<br/>
+Sent to Virginny from England.<br/>
+Where she doth Hardship undergo;<br/>
+There is no cure, it must be so;<br/>
+But if she lives to cross the Main<br/>
+She vows she’ll ne’er go there again.<br/>
+  Give ear unto a Maid<br/>
+  That lately was betray’d<br/>
+    And sent unto Virginny O.<br/>
+  In brief I shall declare<br/>
+  What I have suffered there<br/>
+    When that I was weary, O.<br/>
+  The cloathes that I brought in<br/>
+  They are worn so thin<br/>
+    In the Land of Virginny O.<br/>
+  Which makes me for to say<br/>
+  Alas! and well-a-day<br/>
+    When that I was weary, O.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The indentured servant, the redemptioner, or free-willer saw before him, at the
+close of his seven years term, a home in a teeming land; he would own fifty
+acres of that land with three barrels, an axe, a gun, and a hoe—truly, the
+world was his. He would have also a suit of kersey, strong hose, a shirt,
+French fall shoes, and a good hat,—a Monmouth cap,—a suit worthy any man.
+Abigail had an equal start, a petticoat and waistcoat of strong wool, a
+perpetuana or callimaneo, two blue aprons, two linen caps, a pair of new shoes,
+two pairs of new stockings and a smock, and three barrels of Indian corn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We find that many of these redemptioners became soldiers in the colonial wars,
+often distinguished for bravery. This was through a law passed by the British
+government that all who enlisted in military service in the colonies were
+released by that act from further bondage.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Lady_Herrman."></a>
+<img src="images/134.jpg" alt="Lady Herrman." />
+<p class="caption">Lady Herrman.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the year 1659, on an autumn day, two white men with an Indian guide paddled
+swiftly over the waters of Chesapeake Bay on business of much import. They had
+come from Manhattan, and bore despatches from Governor Stuyvesant to the
+governor of Maryland, relating to the ever troublesome query of those days,
+namely, the exact placing of boundary lines. One of these men was Augustine
+Herrman, a man of parts, who had been ambassador to Rhode Island, a ship-owner,
+and man of executive ability, which was proven by his offer to Lord Baltimore
+to draw a map of Maryland and the surrounding country in exchange for a tract
+of land at the head of the bay. He was a land-surveyor, and drew an excellent
+map; and he received the four thousand acres afterwards known as Bohemia Manor.
+His portrait and that of his wife exist; they are wretched daubs, as were many
+of the portraits of the day, but, nevertheless, her dress is plainly revealed
+by it. You can see a copy of it <a href="#Lady_Herrman.">here</a>. The
+overdress, pleated body, and upper sleeve are green. The little lace collar is
+drawn up with a tiny ribbon just as we see collars to-day. Her hair is
+simplicity itself. The full undersleeves and heavy ear-rings give a little
+richness to the dress, which is not English nor is it Dutch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is easy to know the items of the dress of the early Virginian settlers,
+where any court records exist. Many, of course, have perished in the terrible
+devastations of two long wars; but wherever they have escaped destruction all
+the records of church and town in the various counties of Virginia have been
+carefully transcribed and certified, and are open to consultation in the
+Virginia State Library at Richmond, where many of the originals are also
+preserved. Many have also been printed. Mr. Bruce, in his fine book, <i>The
+Economic History of Virginia in the Seventeenth Century</i>, has given frequent
+extracts from these certified records. From them and from the originals I gain
+much knowledge of the dress of the planters at that time. It varied little from
+dress in the New England colonies save that Virginians were richer than New
+Englanders, and so had more costly apparel. Almost nothing was manufactured in
+Virginia. The plainest and simplest articles of dress, save those of homespun
+stuffs, were ordered from England, as well as richer garments. We see even in
+George Washington’s day, until he was prevented by war, that he sent frequent
+orders, wherein elaborately detailed attire was ordered with the pettiest
+articles for household and plantation use.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Elizabeth_Cromwell."></a>
+<img src="images/136.jpg" alt="Elizabeth Cromwell." />
+<p class="caption">Elizabeth Cromwell.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Francis Pritchard of Lancaster, Virginia (in 1660), we find had a
+representative wardrobe. She owned an olive-colored silk petticoat, another of
+silk tabby, and one of flowered tabby, one of velvet, and one of white striped
+dimity. Her printed calico gown was lined with blue silk, thus proving how much
+calico was valued. Other bodices were a striped dimity jacket and a black silk
+waistcoat. To wear with these were a pair of scarlet sleeves and other sleeves
+of ruffled holland. Five aprons, various neckwear of Flanders lace, and several
+rich handkerchiefs completed a gay costume to which green silk stockings gave
+an additional touch of color. Green was distinctly the favorite color for hose
+among all the early settlers; and nearly all the inventories in Virginia have
+that entry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mrs. Sarah Willoughby of Lower Norfolk, Virginia, had at the same date a like
+gay wardrobe, valued, however, at but &pound;;14. Petticoats of calico, striped
+linen, India silk, worsted prunella, and red, blue, and black silk were
+accompanied with scarlet waistcoats with silver lace, a white knit waistcoat, a
+“pair of red paragon bodices,” and another pair of sky-colored satin bodices.
+She had also a striped stuff jacket, a worsted prunella mantle, and a black
+silk gown. There were distinctions in the shape of the outer garments—mantles,
+jackets, and gowns. Hoods, aprons, and bands completed her comfortable attire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though so much of the clothing of the Virginia planters was made in England,
+there was certain work done by home tailors; such work as repairs, alterations,
+making children’s common clothing, and the like, also the clothing of upper
+servants. Often the tailor himself was a bond-servant. Thus, Luke Mathews, a
+tailor from Hereford, England, was bound to Thomas Landon for a term of two
+years from the day he landed. He was to have sixpence a day while working for
+the Landon family, but when working for other persons half of whatever he
+earned. In the Lancaster County records is a tailor’s account (one Noah Rogers)
+from the year 1690 to 1709; it was paid, of course, in tobacco. We may set the
+tobacco as worth about twopence a pound. It will be thus seen from the
+following items that prices in Virginia were higher than in New England:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td>Pounds</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For making seven womens’ Jacketts</td><td>70</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For making a Coat for y’r Wife</td><td>60</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For altering a Plush Britches</td><td>20</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For Y’r Wife &amp;; Daughturs Jackett</td><td>30</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For y’r Britches</td><td>20</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Coat</td><td>40</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Y’r Boys Jacketts</td><td>20</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Y’r Sons britches</td><td>25</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Y’r Eldest Sons Ticking Suite</td><td>60</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To making I Dimity Waistcoat, Serge suite 2 Cotton</td></tr>
+<tr><td>    Waistcoats and y’r Dimity Coat</td><td>185</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For a pr of buff Gloves</td><td>100</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For I Neck Cloth</td><td>12</td></tr>
+<tr><td>A pr of Stockings</td><td>120</td></tr>
+<tr><td>A pr Callimmaneo britches</td><td>60</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+Another bill of the year 1643 reads:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td>Pounds</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To making a suit with buttons to it</td><td>80</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 ell canvas</td><td>30</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for dimothy linings</td><td>30</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for buttons &amp;; silke</td><td>50</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for points</td><td>50</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for taffeta</td><td>58</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for belly pieces</td><td>40</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for hooks &amp;; eies</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for ribbonin for pockets</td><td>20</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for stiffinin for a collar</td><td>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td>—-</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td>Sum 378</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+The extraordinary prices of one hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco for making
+a pair of stockings, and one hundred for a pair of gloves, when making a coat
+was but forty, must remain a seventeenth-century puzzle. This coat was probably
+a petticoat. It is curious, too, to find a tailor making gloves and stockings
+at any price. I think both buff gloves and stockings were of leather. Perhaps
+he charged thus broadly because it was “not in his line.” Work in leather was
+always well paid. We find tailors making leather breeches and leather drawers;
+the latter could not be the garments thus named to-day. Tailors became
+prosperous and well-to-do, perhaps because they worked in winter when other
+Virginia tradesfolk were idle; and they acquired large tracts of land.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The conditions of settlement of Virginia were somewhat different from those of
+the planting of New England. We find the land of many Massachusetts towns
+wholly taken up by a group of settlers who emigrated together from the Old
+World and gathered into a town together in the New. It was like the transferal
+of a neighborhood. It brought about many happy results of mutual helpfulness
+and interdependence. From it arose that system of domestic service in which the
+children of friends rendered helpful duty in other households and were called
+help. Nothing of the kind existed in Virginia. There was far less neighborhood
+life. Plantations were isolated. Lines of demarcation in domestic service were
+much more definite where black life slaves and white bond-servants for a term
+of years performed all household service. For the daughter of one Virginia
+household to “help” in the work in another household was unknown. Each system
+had its benefits; each had its drawbacks. Neither has wholly survived; but
+something better has been evolved, in spite of our lamentations for the good
+old times.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Life is better ordered, but it is not so picturesque as when negro servants
+swarmed in the kitchen, and German, Scotch, and Irish redemptioners served in
+varied callings. There was vast variety of attire to be found on the Virginia
+and Maryland plantations and in the few towns of these colonies. The black
+slaves wore homespun cloths and homespun stuff, crocus and Virginia cloth; and
+the women were happy if they could crown their simple attire with gay turbans.
+Indians stalked up to the plantation doors, halted in silence, and added their
+gay dress of the wild woods. German sectaries and mystics fared on garbed in
+their simple peasant dress. Irish sturdy beggars idled and fiddled through
+existence, in dress of shabby gentility, with always a wig. “Wild-Irish” came
+in brogues and Irish trousers. Sailors and pirates came ashore gayly dressed in
+varied costume, with gay sashes full of pistols and cutlasses, swaggering from
+wharf to plantation. Queer details of dress had all these varied souls; some
+have lingered to puzzle us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A year ago I had sent to me, by a descendant of an old Virginia family, a
+photograph of a curious gold medal or disk, a family relic which was evidently
+a token of some importance, since it bore tiny holes and had marks of having
+been affixed as an insignia. Though I could decipher the bold initials, cut in
+openwork, I could judge little by the colorless photograph, and finally with
+due misgivings and great precautions in careful packing, insurance, etc., the
+priceless family relic was intrusted to an express company for transmission to
+my inspection. Glad indeed was I that the owner had not presented it in person;
+for the decoration of honor, the insignia of rank, the trophy of prowess in war
+or emblem of conquest in love, was the pauper’s badge of a Maryland or Virginia
+parish. It was not a pleasant task to write back the mortifying news; but I am
+proud of the letter which I composed; no one could have done the deed better.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was an old law in Virginia which ran thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Every person who shall receive relief from the parish and be sent to the said
+alms-house, shall, upon the shoulder of the right sleeve of his uppermost
+garment in an open and visible manner, wear a badge with the name of the parish
+to which he or she belongs, cut in red, blue or green cloth, as the vestry or
+church wardens shall direct. And if any poor person shall neglect or refuse to
+wear such badge, such offense may be punished either by ordering his or her
+allowance to be abridged, suspended or withdrawn, or the offender to be whipped
+not exceeding five lashes for one offense; and if any person not entitled to
+relief as aforesaid, shall presume to wear such badge, he or she shall be
+whipped for every such offense.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This law did not mean the full name of the parish, but significant initials.
+Sometimes the initials “P P” were employed, standing for public pauper. In
+other counties a metal badge was ordered, often cast in pewter. In one case a
+die-cutter was made by which an oblong brass badge could be cut, and stamps of
+letters to stamp the badges accompanied it. Sometimes these badges were three
+inches long.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The expression, “the badge of poverty,” became a literal one when all persons
+receiving parochial relief had to wear a large Roman “P” with the initial of
+their parish set on the right sleeve of the uppermost garment in an open and
+visible manner. Likewise all pensioners were ordered to wear their badges “so
+they may be seen.” A pauper who refused to do this might be whipped and
+imprisoned for twenty-one days. Moreover, if the parish beadle neglected to spy
+out that the badge was missing from some poor pensioner, he had to pay half a
+crown himself. This legality was necessitated by actions like that of the
+English goody, who, when ordered to wear this pauper’s badge, demurely fastened
+it to her flannel petticoat. For this law, like all the early Virginia
+statutes, was simply a transcript of English laws. In New York, for some years
+in the eighteenth century, the parish poor—there were no paupers—were ordered
+to wear these badges.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This mode of stigmatizing offenders as well as paupers was in force in the
+earlier days of all the colonies. Its existence in New England has been
+immortalized in <i>The Scarlet Letter</i>. I have given in my book, <i>Curious
+Punishments of By-gone Days</i>, many examples of the wearing of significant
+letters by criminals in various New England towns, in Plymouth, Salem, Taunton,
+Boston, Hartford, New London, also in New York. It offered a singular and
+striking detail of costume to see William Bacon in Boston, and Robert Coles in
+Roxbury, wearing “hanged about their necks on their outerd garment a D made of
+Ridd cloth sett on white.” A Boston woman wore a great “B,” not for Boston, but
+for blasphemy. John Davis wore a “V” for viciousness. Others were forced to
+wear for years a heavy cord around the neck, signifying that the offender lived
+under the shadow of the gallows and its rope.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But return we to the metal badge which has caused this diversion to so gloomy a
+subject as crime and punishment. It was simply an oblong plate about three and
+one-half inches long, of humble metal—pinchbeck, or alchemy—but plated heavily
+with gold, therefore readily mistaken for solid gold; upon it the telltale
+initials “P P” had been stamped with a die, while smaller letters read “St. J.
+Psh.” These confirmed my immediate suspicions, for I had seen an order of
+relief for a stricken wanderer—an order for two weeks’ relief, where the
+wardens of “St. J. Psh.” ordered the sheriff to send the pauper on—to make him
+“move along” to some other parish. This gold badge was not unlike the metal
+badges worn on the left arm by “Bedlam beggars,” the licensed beggars of
+Bethlehem Hospital, the half-cured patients of that asylum for lunatics.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The owner of this badge with ancient letters had not idly accepted them, or
+jumped at the conclusion that it was a decoration of honor for his ancestor. He
+had searched its history long, and he had found in Hall’s <i>Chronicles of the
+Pageants and Progress of the English Kings</i> ample reference to similar
+letters, but not as pauper’s badges. Indeed, like many another well-read and
+intelligent person, he had never heard of pauper’s badges. He read:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“In this garden was the King and five with him apparyelled in garments of
+purpull satyn, every edge garnished with frysed golde and every garment full of
+posyes made of letters of fine gold, of bullion as thick as might be. And six
+Ladyes wore rochettes rouled with crymosyn velvet and set with lettres like
+Carettes. And after the Kyng and his compaignions had daunsed, he appointed the
+Ladies, Gentlewomen, and Ambassadours to take the lettres off their garments in
+token of liberalyte. Which thing the common people perceiving, ranne to them
+and stripped them. And at this banket a shypman of London caught certayn
+lettres which he sould to a goldsmith for &pound;;3. 14s. 8d.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+All this was pleasing to the vanity of our friend, who fancied his letters as
+having taken part in a like pageant; perhaps as a gift of the king himself. We
+must remember that he believed his badge of pure gold. He did not know it was a
+base metal, plated. He proudly pictured his forbears taking part in some kingly
+pageant. He scorned so modern and commonplace a possibility as a society like
+Knights of the Golden Horseshoe, which was formed of Virginian gentlefolk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It plainly was a relic of some romance, and in the strangely picturesque events
+of the early years in this New World need not, though a pauper’s badge, have
+been a badge of dishonor. What strange event or happening, or scene had it
+overlooked? Why had it been covered with its golden sheet? Was it in defiance
+or in satire, in remorse, or in revenge, or in humble and grateful recognition
+of some strange and protecting Providence? We shall never know. It was
+certainly not an agreeable discovery, to think that your great-grandmother or
+grandfather had probably been branded as a public pauper; but there were
+strange exiles and strange paupers in those days, exiles through political
+parties, through the disfavor of kings, through religious conviction, and the
+pauper of the golden badge, the pauper of “St. J. Psh.,” may have ended his
+days as vestryman of that very church. Certain it was, that no ordinary pauper
+would have, or could have, thus preserved it; and from similar reverses and
+glorifying equally base objects came the subjects of half the crests of English
+heraldry.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Pocahontas."></a>
+<img src="images/146.jpg" alt="Pocahontas." />
+<p class="caption">Pocahontas.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The likeness of Pocahontas (<a href="#Pocahontas.">here</a>) is dated 1616. It
+is in the dress of a well-to-do Englishwoman, a woman of importance and means.
+This portrait has been a shock to many who idealized the Indian princess as
+“that sweet American girl” as Thackeray called her. Especially is it
+disagreeable in many of the common prints from it. One flippant young friend,
+the wife of an army officer, who had been stationed in the far West, said of
+it, in disgust, remembering her frontier residence, “With a man’s hat on! just
+like every old Indian squaw!” This hat is certainly displeasing, but it was not
+worn through Indian taste; it was an English fashion, seen on women of wealth
+as well as of the plainer sort. I have a score of prints and photographs of
+English portraits, wherein this mannish hat is shown. In the original of this
+portrait of Pocahontas, the heavy, sombre effect is much lightened by the gold
+hatband. These rich hatbands were one of the articles of dress prohibited as
+vain and extravagant by the Massachusetts magistrates. They were costly
+luxuries. We find them named and valued in many inventories in all the
+colonies, and John Pory, secretary of the Virginia colony, wrote about that
+time to a friend in England a sentence which has given, I think to all who read
+it, an exaggerated notion of the dress of Virginians:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Our cowekeeper here of James citty on Sundays goes accoutred all in ffreshe
+fflaminge silke, and a wife of one that had in England professed the blacke
+arte not of a Scholler but of a Collier weares her rough beaver hatt with a
+faire perle hatband, and a silken sute there to correspond.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Corroborative evidence of the richness and great cost of these hatbands is
+found in a letter of Susan Moseley to Governor Yardley of Virginia, telling of
+the exchange of a hatband and jewel for four young cows, one older cow and four
+oxen, on account of her “great want of cattle.” She writes on “this Last July
+1650, at Elizabeth River in Virginia”:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I had rayther your wife should weare them then any gentle woman I yet know in
+ye country; but good Sir have <i>no</i> scruple concerninge their rightnesse,
+for I went my selfe from Rotterdam to ye haugh (The Hague) to inquire of ye
+gould smiths and found y’t they weare all Right, therefore thats without
+question, and for ye hat band y’t alone coste five hundred gilders as my
+husband knows verry well and will tell you soe when he sees you; for ye Juell
+and ye ringe they weare made for me at Rotterdam and I paid in good rex dollars
+sixty gilders for ye Juell and fivety and two gilders for ye ringe, which comes
+to in English monny eleaven poundes fower shillings. I have sent the sute and
+Ringe by your servant, and I wish Mrs. Yeardley health and prosperity to weare
+them in, and give you both thanks for your kind token. When my husband comes
+home we will see to gett ye Cattell home, in ye meantime I present my Love and
+service to your selfe &amp;; wife, and commit you all to God, and remaine,<br/>
+<br/>
+    “Your friend and servant,<br/>
+<br/>
+         “SUSAN MOSELEY.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The purchasing value of five hundred guilders, the cost of the hatband, would
+be equal to-day to nearly a thousand dollars.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the portrait of Pocahontas in the original, there is also much liveliness of
+color, a rich scarlet with heavy braidings; these all lessen somewhat the
+forbidding presence of the stiff hat. She carries a fan of ostrich feathers,
+such as are depicted in portraits of Queen Elizabeth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These feather fans had little looking-glasses of silvered glass or polished
+steel set at the base of the feathers. Euphues says, “The glasses you carry in
+fans of feathers show you to be lighter than feathers; the new-found glass
+chains that you wear about your necks, argue you to be more brittle than
+glass.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These fans were, in the queen’s hands, as large as hand fire-screens; many were
+given to her as New Year’s gifts or other tokens, one by Sir Francis Drake.
+This makes me believe that they were a fashion taken from the North American
+Indians and eagerly adopted in England; where, for two centuries, everything
+related to the red-men of the New World was seized upon with avidity—except
+their costume.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The hat worn by Pocahontas, or a lower crowned form of it, is seen in the
+Hollar drawing of Puritan women (<a
+href="#Costumes_of_Englishwomen_of_the_Seventeenth_Century.">here</a>), where
+it seems specially ugly and ineffective, and on the Quaker Tub-preacher. It
+lingered for many years, perched on top of French hoods, close caps, kerchiefs,
+and other variety of head-gear worn by women of all ranks; never elegant, never
+becoming. I can think of no reason for its long existence and dominance save
+its costliness. It was not imitated, so it kept its place as long as the supply
+of beaver was ample. This hat was also durable. A good beaver hat was not for a
+year nor even for a generation. It lasted easily half a century. But we all
+know that the beaver disappeared suddenly from our forests; and as a sequence
+the beaver hat was no longer available for common wear. It still held its place
+as a splendid, feather-trimmed, rich article of dress, a hat for dress wear,
+and it was then comely and becoming. Within a few years, through national and
+state protection, the beaver, most interesting of wild creatures, has increased
+and multiplied in North America until it has become in certain localities a
+serious pest to lumbermen. We must revive the fashion of real beaver hats—that
+will speedily exterminate the race.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Duchess_of_Buckingham_and_her_Two_Children."></a>
+<img src="images/150.jpg" alt="Duchess of Buckingham and her Two Children." />
+<p class="caption">Duchess of Buckingham and her Two Children.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It always has seemed strange to me that, in the prodigious interest felt in
+England for the American Indian, an interest shown in the thronging, gaping
+sight-seers that surrounded every taciturn red-man who visited the Old World,
+no fashions of ornament or dress were copied as gay, novel, or becoming. The
+Indian afforded startling detail to interest the most jaded fashion-seeker. The
+<i>Works of Captain John Smith</i>, Strachey’s <i>Historie of Travaile into
+Virginia</i>, the works of Roger Williams, of John Josselyn, the letters of
+various missionaries, give full accounts of their brilliant attire; and many of
+these works were illustrated. The beautiful mantles of the Virginia squaws,
+made of carefully dressed skins, were tastefully fringed and embroidered with
+tiny white beads and minute disks of copper, like spangles, which, with the
+buff of the dressed skin, made a charming color-study—copper and buff—picked
+out with white. Sometimes small brilliant shells or feathers were added to the
+fringes. An Indian princess, writes one chronicler, wore a fair white deerskin
+with a frontal of white coral and pendants of “great but imperfect-colored and
+worse-drilled pearls”—our modern baroque pearls. A chain of linked copper
+encircled her neck; and her maid brought to her a mantle called a “puttawas” of
+glossy blue feathers sewed so thickly and evenly that it seemed like heavy
+purple satin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A traveller wrote thus of an Indian squaw and brave:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“His wife was very well favored, of medium stature and very bashful. She had on
+her back a long cloak of leather, with the fur side next to her body. About her
+forehead she had a band of white coral. In her ears she had bracelets of pearls
+hanging down to her waist. The rest of her women of the better sort had
+pendants of copper hanging in either ear, and some of the children of the
+King’s brother and other noblemen, had five or six in either ear. He himself
+had upon his head a broad plate of gold or copper, for being unpolished we knew
+not which metal it might be, neither would he by any means suffer us to take it
+off his head. His apparel was like his wife’s, only the women wear their hair
+long on both sides of the head, and the men on but one side. They are of color
+yellowish, and their hair black for the most part, and yet we saw children who
+had very fine auburn and chestnut colored hair.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+John Josselyn wrote of tawny beauties:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“They are girt about the middle with a Zone wrought with Blue and White Beads
+into Pretty Works. Of these Beads they have Bracelets for the Neck and Arms,
+and Links to hang in their Ears, and a Fair Table curiously made up with Beads
+Likewise to wear before their Breast. Their Hair they combe backward, and tye
+it up short with a Border about two Handsfull broad, wrought in works as the
+Other with their Beads.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Powhatan’s “Habit” still exists. It is in England, in the Tradescant Collection
+which formed the nucleus of the Ashmolean Collection. It was probably presented
+by Captain John Smith himself. It is made of two deerskins ornamented with
+“roanoke” shell-work, about seven feet long by five feet wide. Roanoke is akin
+to wampum, but this is made of West Indian shells. The figures are circles, a
+crude human figure and two mythical composite animals. He also wore fine
+mantles of raccoon skins. A conjurer’s dress was simply a girdle with a single
+deerskin, while a great blackbird with outstretched wings was fastened to one
+ear—a striking ornament. I am always delighted to read such proof as this of a
+fact that I have ever known, namely, that the American Indian is the most
+accomplished, the most telling <i>poseur</i> the world has ever known. The ear
+of the Indian man and woman was pierced along the entire outer edge and filled
+with long drops, a fringe of coral, gold, and pearl. The wives of Powhatan wore
+triple strings of great pearls close around their throats, and a long string
+over one shoulder, while their mantles were draped to show their full handsome
+neck and arms. Altogether, with their carefully dressed hair, they would have
+made in full dress a fine show in a modern opera-box, and, indeed, the Indian
+squaws did cause vast exhibition of curiosity and delight when they visited
+London and were taken sight-seeing and sight-seen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As early as 1629 an Indian chief with his wife and son came from Nova Scotia to
+England. Lord Poulet paid them much attention in Somersetshire, and Lady Poulet
+took Lady Squaw up to London and gave her a necklace and a diamond, which I
+suppose she wore with her blue and white beads.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Be the story of the saving of John Smith by Pocahontas a myth or the truth, it
+forever lives a beautiful and tender reality in the hearts of American
+children. Pocahontas was not the only Indian squaw who played a kindly part in
+the first colonization of this country. There were many, though their deeds and
+names are forgotten; and there was one Indian woman whose influence was much
+greater and more prolonged than was that of Pocahontas, and was haloed with
+many years of exciting adventure as well as romance. Let me recount a few
+details of her life, that you may wonder with me that the only trace of Indian
+life marked indelibly on England was found on the swinging signs of inns known
+by the name of “The Bell Savage,” “La Belle Sauvage,” and even “The Savage and
+Bell.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This second Indian squaw was a South Carolina neighbor of our beloved
+Pocahontas; she had not, alas, the lovely disposition and noble character of
+Powhatan’s daughter. She was systematically and constitutionally mischievous,
+like a rogue elephant, so I call her a rogue squaw. Her name was
+Coosaponakasee. The name is too long and too hard to say with frequency, so we
+will do as did her English friends and foes—call her Mary. Indeed, she was
+baptized Mary, for she was a half-breed, and her white father had her reared
+like a Christian, had her educated like an English girl as far as could be done
+in the little primitive settlement of Ponpon, South Carolina. It will be shown
+that the attempt was not over-successful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was a princess, the niece of crafty old Brim, the king of two powerful
+tribes of Georgia Indians, the Creeks and Uchees. In 1715, when she was about
+fifteen years old, a fierce Indian war broke out in the early spring, and at
+the defeat of the Indians she promptly left her school and her church and went
+out into the wilds, a savage among savages, preferring defeat and a wild summer
+in the woods with her own people to decorous victory within doors with her
+fellow Christians.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="AWomansDoubletMrsAnneTurner"></a>
+<img src="images/155.jpg" alt="A Woman’s Doublet." />
+<p class="caption">A Woman’s Doublet. Mrs. Anne Turner.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The following year an Englishman, Colonel John Musgrove, accompanied by his
+son, went out as a mediator to the Creek Indians to secure their friendship, or
+at any rate their neutrality. The young squaw, Mary, served as interpreter, and
+the younger English pacificator promptly proved his amicable disposition by
+falling in love with her. He did what was more unusual, he married her; and
+soon they set up a large trading-house on the Savannah River, where they
+prospered beyond belief. On the arrival of the shipload of emigrants sent out
+by the Trustees of Georgia the English found Mary Musgrove and her husband
+already carrying on a large trade, in securing and transacting which she had
+served as interpreter. When Oglethorpe landed, he at once went to her, and
+asked permission to settle near her trading-station. She welcomed him, helped
+him, interpreted for him, and kept things in general running smoothly in the
+settlement between the English and the Indians. The two became close friends,
+and as long as generous but confiding Oglethorpe remained, all went well in the
+settlement; but in time he returned to England, giving her a handsome diamond
+ring in token of his esteem. Her husband died soon after and she removed to a
+new station called Mount Venture. Oglethorpe shortly wrote of her:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I find that there is the utmost endeavour by the Spaniards to destroy her
+because she is of consequence and in the King’s interests; therefor it is the
+business of the King’s friends to support her; besides which I shall always be
+desirous to serve her out of the friendship she has shown me as well as the
+colony.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In a letter of John Wesley’s written to Lady Oglethorpe, and now preserved in
+the Georgia Historical Society, he refers frequently to Mary Musgrove, saying:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I had with me an interpreter the half-breed, Mary Musgrove, and daily had
+meetings for instruction and prayer. One woman was baptized. She was of them
+who came out of great tribulation, her husband and all her three children
+having been drowned four days before in crossing the Ogeechee River. Her
+happiness in the gospel caused me to feel that, like Job, the widow’s heart had
+been caused to sing for joy. She was married again the day following her
+baptism. I suggested longer days of mourning. She replied that her first
+husband was surely dead; and that his successor was of much substance, owning a
+cornfield and gun. I doubt the interpreter Mary Musgrove, that she is yet in
+the valley and shadow of darkness.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+One can picture the excitement of the Choctaw squaw to lose her husband and
+children, and to get another husband and religion in a week’s time. Her reply
+that her husband “was surely dead” bears a close resemblance to the hackneyed
+story of the response to a charivari query of the Dutch bridegroom who had been
+a widower but a week, “Ain’t my vife as deadt as she ever vill be?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her usefulness continued. If a “talk” were had with the Indians in Savannah,
+Fredonia, or any other settlement, Mary had to be sent for; if Indian warriors
+had to be hired, to keep an army against the Spanish or marauding Indians, Mary
+obtained them from her own people. If land were bought of the Indians, Mary
+made the trade. She soon married Captain Matthews, who had been sent out with a
+small English troop to protect her trading-post; he also speedily died, leaving
+her free, after alliances with trade and war, to find a third husband in
+ecclesiastical circles, in the person of one Chaplain Bosomworth, a parson of
+much pomposity and ambition, and of liberal education without a liberal brain.
+He had had a goodly grant of lands to prompt and encourage him in his
+missionary endeavors; and he was under the direction and protection of the
+Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. His mission was to convert the
+Indians, and he began by marrying one; he then proceeded to break the law by
+bringing in the first load of negro slaves in that colony, a trade which was
+positively prohibited by the conditions and laws of the colony. When his
+illegal traffic was stopped, he got his wife to send in back claims to the
+colony of Georgia for $25,000 as interpreter, mediator, agent, etc., for the
+English. She had already been paid about a thousand dollars. This demand being
+promptly refused, the hitherto pacific and friendly Mary, edged on by that
+sorry specimen of a parson, her husband, began a series of annoying and
+extraordinary capers. She declared herself empress of Georgia, and after
+sending her half-brother, a full-blooded Indian, as an advance-courier, she
+came with a body of Indians to Savannah. The Rev. Thomas Bosomworth, decked in
+full canonical robes, headed the Indians by the side of his empress wife,
+dressed in Indian costume; and an imposing procession they made, with plenty of
+theatrical color. At first the desperate colonists thought of seizing Mary and
+shipping her off to England to Oglethorpe, but this notion was abandoned. As
+the English soldiers were very few at that special time, and the Indian
+warriors many, we can well believe that the colonists were well scared, the
+more so that when the Indians were asked the reason of their visit, “their
+answers were very trifling and very dark.” So a feast was offered them, but
+Mary and her brother refused to come and to eat; and the dinner was scarcely
+under way when more armed Indians appeared from all quarters in the streets,
+running up and down in an uproar, and the town was in great confusion. The
+alarm drums were beaten, and it was reported that the Indians had cut off the
+head of the president as they sat together at the feast. Every man in the
+colony turned out in full arms for duty, the women and children gathered in
+groups in their homes in unspeakable terror. Then the president and his
+assistants who had been at the dinner, and who had gone unarmed to show their
+friendly intent, did what they should have done in the beginning, seized that
+disreputable specimen of an English missionary, the Rev. Mr. Bosomworth, and
+put him in prison; and we wonder they kept their hands off him as long as they
+did. Still trying to settle the matter without bloodshed, the president asked
+the Indian chiefs to adjourn to his house “to drink a glass of wine and talk
+the matter over.” Into this conference came Mary, bereft of her husband, raging
+like a madwoman, threatening the lives of the magistrates, swearing she would
+annihilate the colony. “A fig for your general,” screamed she, “you own not a
+foot of land in this colony. The whole earth is mine.” Whereupon the Empress of
+Georgia, too, was placed under military guard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then a harassing week of apprehension ensued; the Indians were fed, and
+parleyed with, and reasoned with, and explained to. At last Mary’s brother
+Malatche, at a conference, presented as a final demand a paper setting forth
+plainly the claims of the Indians. The sequel of this presentation is almost
+comic. The paper was so evidently the production of Bosomworth, and so wholly
+for his own personal benefit and not for that of the Indians, and the
+astonishment of the president and his council was so great at his vast and open
+assumption, that the Indians were bewildered in turn by the strange and
+unexpected manner of the white men upon reading the paper; and childishly
+begged to have the paper back again “to give to him who made it.” A plain
+exposition of Bosomworth’s greed and craft followed, and all seemed amicably
+explained and settled, and the Creeks offered to smoke the pipe of peace; when
+in came Mary, having escaped her guards, full of rum and of rancor. The
+president said to her in a low voice that unless she ceased brawling and
+quarrelling he would at once put her into close confinement; she turned in a
+rage to her brother, and translated the threat. He and every Indian in the room
+sprang to their feet, drew tomahawks, and for a short time a complete massacre
+was imminent. Then the captain of the guard, Captain Noble Jones, who had
+chafed under all this explaining diplomacy, lost his much-tried patience, and
+like a brave and fearless English soldier ordered the Indians to surrender
+arms. Though far greater in number than the English, they yielded to his
+intrepidity and wrath; and the following night and day they sneaked out of the
+town, as ordered, by twos and threes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For one month this fright and commotion and expense had existed; and at last
+wholly alone were left the two contemptible malcontents and instigators of it
+all. Mr. and Mrs. Bosomworth thereafter ate very humble pie; he begged sorely
+and cried tearfully to be forgiven; and he wailed so deeply and promised so
+broadly that at last the two were publicly pardoned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Yet, after all, they had their own way; for they soon went to London and cut an
+infinitely fine figure there. Mary was the top of the mode, and there
+Bosomworth managed to get for his wife lands and coin to the amount of about a
+hundred thousand dollars.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The prosperous twain returned to America in triumph, and built a curious and
+large house on an island they had acquired; in it the Empress did not long
+reign; at her death the Rev. Mr. Bosomworth married his chambermaid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Such is the sorry tale of the Indian squaw and the English parson, a tale the
+more despicable because, though she had been reared in English ways, baptized
+in the English faith, had been the friend of English men and women, and married
+three English husbands; yet when fifty years old she returned at vicious
+suggestion with promptitude and fierceness to violent savage ways, to incite a
+massacre of her friends. And that suggestion came not from her barbarian kin,
+but from an English gentleman—a Christian priest.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER</h3>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<i>“Things farre-fetched and deare-bought are good for Ladies.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Arte of English Poesie,” G. PUTTENHAM, 1589.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“I honour a Woman that can honour herself with her Attire. A good Text
+deserves a Fair Margent.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“The Simple Cobbler of Agawam,” J. WARD, 1713.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="95" src="images/initialt.jpg" alt="T" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+here was a certain family prominent in affairs in the seventeenth and
+eighteenth centuries, with members resident in England, New England, and the
+Barbadoes. They were gentlefolk—and gentle folk; they were of birth and
+breeding; and they were kindly, tender, affectionate to one another. They were
+given to much letter-writing, and better still to much letter-keeping. Knowing
+the quality of their letters, I cannot wonder at either habit; for the
+prevalence of the letter-keeping was due, I am sure, to the perfection of the
+writing. Their letters were ever lively in diction, direct and lucid in
+description, and widely varied in interest; therefore they were well worthy of
+preservation, simply for the owner’s re-reading. They have proved so for all
+who have brushed the dust from the packages and deciphered the faded words.
+Moreover, these letters are among the few family letters of our two centuries
+which convey, either to the original reader or to his successor of to-day,
+anything that could, by most generous construction or fullest imagination, be
+deemed equivalent to what we now term News.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of course their epistles contained many moral reflections and ample religious
+allusions and aspirations; and they even transcribed to each other, in full,
+long Biblical quotations with as much exactness and length as if each deemed
+his correspondent a benighted heathen, with no Bible to consult, instead of
+being an equally pious kinsman with a Bible in every room of his house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Their name was Hall. The heads of the family in early colonial days were the
+merchants John Hall and Hugh Hall; these surnames have continued in the family
+till the present time, as has the cunning of hand and wit of brain in
+letter-writing, even into the seventh and eighth generation, as I can
+abundantly testify from my own private correspondence. I have quoted freely in
+several of my books from old family letters and business letter-books of the
+Hall family. Many of these letters have been intrusted to me from the family
+archives; others, especially the business letters, have found their way,
+through devious paths, to our several historical societies; where they have
+been lost in oblivion, hidden through churlishness, displayed in pride, or
+offered in helpfulness, as suited the various humors of their custodians. To
+the safe, wise, and generous guardianship of the American Antiquarian Society
+fell a collection of letters of the years 1663 to 1684, written from London by
+the merchant John Hall to his mother, Madam Rebekah Symonds, who, after a
+fourth matrimonial venture,—successful, as were all her marriages,—was living,
+in what must have seemed painful seclusion to any Londoner, in the struggling
+little New England hamlet of Ipswich, Massachusetts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I wish to note as a light-giving fact in regard to these letters that the Halls
+were as happy in marrying as in letter-writing, and as assiduous. They married
+early; they married late. And by each marriage increased wonderfully either the
+number of descendants, or of influential family connections, who were often
+also business associates.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Madam Symonds had four excellent husbands, more than her share of good fortune.
+She married Henry Byley in 1636; John Hall in 1641; William Worcester in 1650;
+and Deputy Governor Symonds in 1663. She was, therefore, in 1664, scarcely more
+than a bride (if one may be so termed for the fourth time), when many costly
+garments were sent to her by her devoted and loving son, John Hall; she was
+then about forty-eight years of age. Her husband, Governor Symonds, was a
+gentle and noble old Puritan gentleman, a New Englishman of the best type; a
+Christian of missionary spirit who wrote that he “could go singing to his
+grave” if he felt sure that the poor benighted Indians were won to Christ. His
+stepson, John Hall, never failed in respectful and affectionate messages to him
+and sedately appropriate gifts, such as “men’s knives.” Governor Symonds had
+two sons and six married daughters by two—or three—previous marriages. He died
+in Boston in 1678.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A triangle of mutual helpfulness and prosperity was formed by England, New
+England, and the Barbadoes in this widespread relationship of the Hall family
+in matrimony, business, kin, and friendly allies. England sent to the Barbadoes
+English trading-stuffs and judiciously cheap and attractive trinkets. The
+islands sent to New England sugar and molasses, and also the young children
+born in the islands, to be educated in Boston schools ere they went to English
+universities, or were presented in the English court and London society. There
+was one school in Boston established expressly for the children of the
+Barbadoes planters. You may read in a later chapter upon the dress of old-time
+children of some naughty grandchildren of John Hall who were sent to this
+Boston school and to the care of another oft-married grandmother. In this
+triangle, New England returned to the Barbadoes non-perishable and most
+lucrative rum and salt codfish—codfish for the many fast-days of the Roman
+Catholic Church; New England rum to exchange with profit for slaves, coffee,
+and sugar. The Barbadoes and New England sent good, solid Spanish coin to
+England, both for investment and domestic purchases; and England sent to New
+England what is of value to us in this book—the latest fashions.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="A_Puritan_Dame."></a>
+<img src="images/166.jpg" alt="A Puritan Dame." />
+<p class="caption">A Puritan Dame.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+When I ponder on the conditions of life in Ipswich at the time these letters
+were written—the few good houses, the small amount of tilled land, the entire
+lack of all the elegancies of social life; when I think upon the proximity and
+ferocity of the Indian tribes and the ever present terror of their invasion;
+when I picture the gloom, the dread, the oppression of the vast, close-lying,
+primeval forest,—then the rich articles of dress and elaborate explanation of
+the modes despatched by John Hall to his mother would seem more than
+incongruous, they would be ridiculous, did I not know what a factor dress was
+in public life in that day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poor Madam Symonds dreaded deeply lest The Plague be sent to her in her fine
+garments from London; and her dutiful son wrote her to have no fear, that he
+bought her finery himself, in safe shops, from reliable dealers, and kept all
+for a month in his own home where none had been infected. But she must have had
+fear of disaster and death more intimately menacing to her home than was The
+Plague.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had seen the career of genial Master Rowlandson, a neighbor’s son, full of
+naughtiness, fun, and life. While an undergraduate at Harvard College he had
+written in doggerel what was termed pompously a “scandalous libell,” and he had
+pinned it on the door of Ipswich Meeting-house, along with the tax-collector’s
+and road-mender’s notices and the announcement of intending marriages, and the
+grinning wolves’ heads brought for reward. For this prank he had been soundly
+whipped by the college president on the College Green; but it did not prevent
+his graduating with honor at the head of his class. He was valedictorian,
+class-orator, class-poet—in fact, I may say that he had full honors. (I have to
+add also that in his case honors were easy; for his class, of the year 1652,
+had but one graduate, himself.) The gay, mischievous boy had become a faithful,
+zealous, noble preacher to the Puritan church in the neighboring town of
+Lancaster; and in one cruel night, in 1676, his home was destroyed, the whole
+town made desolate, his parishioners slaughtered, and his wife, Esther
+Rowlandson, carried off by the savage red-men, from whom she was bravely
+rescued by my far-off grandfather, John Hoar. Read the thrilling story of her
+“captivation” and rescue, and then think of Madam Symonds’s finery in her gilt
+trunk in the near-by town. For four years the valley of the
+Nashua—blood-stained, fire-blackened—lay desolate and unsettled before Madam
+Symonds’s eyes; then settlers slowly crept in. But for fifty years Ipswich was
+not deemed a safe home nor free from dread of cruel Indians; “Lovewell’s War”
+dragged on in 1726. But mantuas and masks, whisks and drolls, were just as
+eagerly sought by the governor’s wife as if Esther Rowlandson’s capture had
+been a dream.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a soured, abusive, intolerant old fellow in New England in the year
+1700, a “vituperative epithetizer,” ready to throw mud on everything around him
+(though not working—to my knowledge—in cleaning out any mud-holes). He was not
+abusive because he was a Puritan, but because “it was his nature to.” He styled
+himself a “Simple Cobbler,” and he announced himself “willing to Mend his
+Native Country, lamentably tattered both in the upper Leather and in the Sole,
+with all the Honest Stitches he can take,” but he took out his aid in loud
+hammering of his lapstone and noisy protesting against all other footwear than
+his own. I fancy he thought himself another Stubbes. I know of no whole soles
+he set, nor any holes he mended, and his “Simple” ideas are so involved in
+expression, in such twisted sentences, and with such “strange Ink-pot termes”
+and so many Latin quotations and derivatives, that I doubt if many sensible
+folk knew what he meant, even in his own day. His words have none of the
+directness, the force, the interest that have the writings of old Stubbes. Such
+words as nugiperous, perquisquilian, ill-shapen-shotten, nudistertian,
+futulous, overturcased, quaematry, surquedryes, prodromie, would seem to apply
+ill to woman’s attire; they really fall wide of the mark if intended as
+weapons, but it was to such vain dames as the governor’s wife that the Simple
+Cobbler applied them. Some of the ministers of the colony, terrified by the
+Indian outbreaks, gloomily held the vanity and extravagance of dames and
+goodwives as responsible for them all. Others, with broader minds, could
+discern that both the open and the subtle influence of good clothes was needed
+in the new community. They gave an air of cheerfulness, of substance, of
+stability, which is of importance in any new venture. For the governor’s wife
+to dress richly and in the best London modes added lustre to the governor’s
+office. And when the excitement had quieted and the sullen Indian sachem and
+his tawny braves stalked through the little town in their gay, barbaric
+trappings, they were sensible that Madam Symonds’s embroidered satin manteau
+was rich and costly, even if they did not know what we know, that it was the
+top of the mode.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Governor Symonds’s home in Ipswich was on the ground where the old seminary
+building now stands; but the happy married pair spent much of the time at his
+farm-house on Argilla Farm, on Heart-Break Hill, by Labor-in-vain Creek, which
+was also in Ipswich County. This lonely farm, so sad in name, was the only
+dwelling-place in that region; it was so remote that when Indian assault was
+daily feared, the general court voted to station there a guard of soldiers at
+public expense because the governor was “so much in the country’s service.” He
+says distinctly, however, concerning the bargain in the purchase of Argilla
+Farm, that his wife was well content with it.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Penelope_Winslow."></a>
+<img src="images/171.jpg" alt="Penelope Winslow." />
+<p class="caption">Penelope Winslow.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+There were also intimate personal considerations which would apparently render
+so luxurious a wardrobe unnecessary and unsuitable. The age and health of the
+wearer might generally be held to be sufficient reason for indifference to such
+costly, delicate, and gay finery. When Madam Symonds was fifty-eight years old,
+in 1674, her son wrote, “Oh, Good Mother, grieved am I to learn that Craziness
+creeps upon you, yet am I glad that you have Faith to look beyond this Life.”
+Craziness had originally no meaning of infirmity of mind; it meant feebleness,
+weakness of body. Her letters evidently informed him of failing health, but
+even that did not hinder the export of London finery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Governor Symonds’s estate at his death was under &pound;;3000, and Argilla Farm
+was valued only at &pound;;150; yet Madam had a “Manto” which is marked
+distinctly in her son’s own handwriting as costing &pound;;30. She had money of
+her own, and estates in England, of which John Hall kept an account, and with
+the income of which he made these purchases. This manteau was of flowered
+satin, and had silver clasps and a rich pair of embroidered satin sleeves to
+wear with it; it was evidently like a sleeveless cape. We must always remember
+that seventeenth-century accounts must be multiplied by five to give
+twentieth-century values. Even this valuation is inadequate. Therefore the
+&pound;;30 paid for the manteau would to-day be &pound;;150; $800 would nearly
+represent the original value. As it was sent in early autumn it was evidently a
+winter garment, and it must have been furred with sable to be so costly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the early inventories of all the colonies “a pair of sleeves” is a frequent
+item, and to my delight—when so seldom color is given—I have more than once a
+pair of green sleeves.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Thy gown was of the grassy green<br/>
+   Thy sleeves of satin hanging by,<br/>
+ Which made thee be our harvest queen<br/>
+   And yet thou wouldst not love me.<br/>
+     Green sleeves was all my joy,<br/>
+     Green sleeves was my delight,<br/>
+     Green sleeves was my Heart of Gold,<br/>
+     And who but Lady Green-sleeves!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Let me recount some of “My Good Son’s labors of love and pride in London shops”
+for his vain old mother. She had written in the year 1675 for lawn whisks, but
+he is quick to respond that she has made a very countrified mistake.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Lawn whisks is not now worn either by Gentil or simple, young or old. Instead
+whereof I have bought a shape and ruffles, what is now the ware of the bravest
+as well as the young ones. Such as goe not with naked neckes, wear a black
+whisk over it. Therefore I have not only bought a plain one you sent for, but
+also a Lustre one, such as are most in fashion.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+John Hall’s “lustre for whisks” was of course lustring, or lutestring, a soft
+half-lustred pure silk fabric which was worn constantly for two centuries. He
+sent his mother many yards of it for her wear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have ample proof that these black whisks were in general wear in England. In
+an account-book of Sarah Fell of Swarthmoor Hall in 1673, are these items: “a
+black alamode whiske for Sister Rachel; a round whiske for Susanna; a little
+black whiske for myself.” This English Quaker sends also a colored stuff manteo
+to her sister; scores of English inventories of women’s wardrobes contain
+precisely similar items to those bought by Son Hall. And it is a tribute to the
+devotion of American women to the rigid laws of fashion, even in that early
+day, to find that all whisks, save black whisks and lustring ones, disappear at
+this date from colonial inventories of effects.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She wrote to him for a “side of plum colored leather” for her shoes. This was a
+matter of much concern to him, not at all because this leather was a bit gay or
+extravagant, or frail wear for an elderly grandmother, but because it was not
+the very latest thing in leather. He writes anxiously:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Secondly you sent for Damson-Coloured Spanish Leather for Womans Shoes. But
+there is noe Spanish Leather of that Colour; and Turkey Leather is coloured on
+the grain side only, both of which are out of use for Women’s Shoes. Therefore
+I bought a Skin of Leather that is all the mode for Women’s Shoes. All that I
+fear is, that it is too thick. But my Coz. Eppes told me yt such thin ones as
+are here generally used, would by rain and snow in N. England presently be
+rendered of noe service and therefore persuaded me to send this, which is
+stronger than ordinary. And if the Shoemaker fit it well, may not be uneasy.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Perhaps his anxious offices and advices in regard to fans show more curiously
+than other quotations, the insistent attitude of the New England mind in regard
+to the latest fashions. I cannot to-day conceive why any woman, young or old,
+could have been at all concerned in Ipswich in 1675 as to which sort of fan she
+carried, or what was carried in London, yet good Son John writes:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“As to the feathered fan, I should also have found it in my heart to let it
+alone, because none but very grave persons (and of them very few) use it. That
+now ’tis grown almost as obsolete as Russets and more rare to be seen than a
+yellow Hood. But the Thing being Civil and not very dear, Remembering that in
+the years 64 and 68, if I mistake not, you had Two Fans sent, I have bought one
+now on purpose for you, and I hope you will be pleased.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Evidently the screen-fan of Pocahontas’s day was no longer a novelty. His
+mother had had far more fans that he remembered. In 1664 two “Tortis shell
+fanns” had gone across seas; one had cost five shillings, the other ten
+shillings. The following year came a black feather fan with silver handle, and
+two tortoise-shell fans; in 1666 two more tortoise-shell fans; in 1688 another
+feather fan, and so on. These many fans may have been disposed of as gifts to
+others, but the entire trend of the son’s letters, as well as his express
+directions, would show that all these articles were for his mother’s personal
+use. When finery was sent for madam’s daughter, it was so specified; in 1675,
+when the daughter became a bride, Brother John sent her her wedding gloves,
+ever a gift of sentiment. A pair of wedding gloves of that date lies now before
+me. They are mitts rather than gloves, being fingerless. They are of white kid,
+and are twenty-two inches long. They are very wide at the top, and have three
+drawing-strings with gilt tassels; these are run in welts about two inches
+apart, and were evidently drawn into puffs above the elbow when worn. A full
+edging of white Swiss lace and a pretty design of dots made in gold thread on
+the back of the hand, form altogether a very costly, elegant, and decorative
+article of dress. I should fancy they cost several pounds. Men’s gloves were
+equally rich. Here are the gold-fringed gloves of Governor Leverett worn in
+1640.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Gold-fringed_Gloves_of_Governor_Leverett."></a>
+<img src="images/176.jpg" alt="Gold-fringed Gloves of Governor Leverett." />
+<p class="caption">Gold-fringed Gloves of Governor Leverett.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Of course the only head-gear of Madam Symonds for outdoor wear was a hood. Hats
+were falling in disfavor. I shall tell in a special chapter of the dominance at
+this date and the importance of the French hood. Its heavy black folds are
+shown in the portraits of Rebecca Rawson (<a href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a>),
+of Madam Simeon Stoddard (<a href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>), and on
+other heads in this book. Such a hood probably covered Madam Symonds’s head
+heavily and fully, whene’er she walked abroad; certainly it did when she rode a
+pillion-back. She had other fashionable hoods—all the fashionable hoods, in
+fact, that were worn in England at that time; hoods of lustring, of tiffany, of
+“bird’s-eye”—precisely the same as had Madam Pepys, and one of spotted gauze,
+the last a pretty vanity for summer wear. We may remember, in fact, that Madam
+Symonds was a contemporary—across-seas—of Madam Pepys, and wore the same
+garments; only she apparently had richer and more varied garments than did that
+beautiful young woman whose husband was in the immediate employ of the king.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arthur Abbott was the agent in Boston through whom this London finery and
+flummery was delivered to Madam Symonds in safety; and it is an amusing
+side-light upon social life in the colony to know that in 1675 Abbott’s wife
+was “presented before the court” for wearing a silk hood above her station, and
+her husband paid the fine. Knowing womankind, and knowing the skill and cunning
+in needlework of women of that day, I cannot resist building up a little
+imaginative story around this “presentment” and fine. I believe that the pretty
+young woman could not put aside the fascination of all the beautiful London
+hoods consigned to her husband for the old lady at Ipswich; I suspect she tried
+all the finery on, and that she copied one hood for herself so successfully and
+with such telling effect that its air of high fashion at once caught the eye
+and met with the reproof of the severe Boston magistrates. She was the last
+woman, I believe, to be fined under the colonial sumptuary laws of
+Massachusetts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The colors of Madam Symonds’s garments were seldom given, but I doubt that they
+were “sad-coloured” or “grave of colour” as we find Governor Winthrop’s orders
+for his wife. One lustring hood was brown; and frequently green ribbons were
+sent; also many yards of scarlet and pink gauze, which seem the very essence of
+juvenility. Her son writes a list of gifts to her and the members of her family
+from his own people:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“A light violet-colored Petti-Coat is my wife’s token to you. The Petti-Coat
+was bought for my wife’s mother and scarcely worn. This my wife humbly presents
+to you, requesting your acceptance of it, for your own wearing, as being Grave
+and suitable for a Person of Quality.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Even a half-worn petticoat was a considerable gift; for petticoats were both
+costly and of infinite needlework. Even the wealthiest folk esteemed a gift of
+partly worn clothing, when materials were so rich. Letters of deep gratitude
+were sent in thanks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The variety of stuffs used in them was great. Some of these are wholly
+obsolete; even the meaning of their names is lost. In an inventory of 1644, of
+a citizen of Plymouth there was, for instance, “a petticoate of phillip &amp;;
+cheny” worth &pound;;1. Much of the value of these petticoats was in the
+handwork bestowed upon them; they were both embroidered and elaborately
+quilted. About 1730, in the Van Cortlandt family, a woman was paid at one time
+&pound;;2 5s. for quilting, a large amount for that day. Often we find items of
+fifteen or twenty shillings for quilting a petticoat.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Embroidered_Petticoat_Band."></a>
+<img src="images/179.jpg" alt="Embroidered Petticoat Band." />
+<p class="caption">Embroidered Petticoat Band.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The handsomest petticoats were of quilted silk or satin. No pattern was so
+elaborate, no amount of work so large, that it could dismay the heart or tire
+the fingers of an eighteenth-century needlewoman. One yellow satin petticoat
+has a lining of stout linen. These are quilted together in an exquisite
+irregular design of interlacing ribbons, slender vines, and long, narrow
+leaves, all stuffed with white cord. Though the general effect of this pattern
+is very regular, an examination shows it is not a set design, but must have
+been drawn as well as worked by the maker. Another petticoat has a curious
+design made with two shades of blue silk cord sewed on in a pattern. Another of
+infinite work has a design outlined in tiny rolls of satin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These petticoats had many flat trimmings; laces of silver, gold, or silk thread
+were used, galloons and orrice. Tufts of fringed silk were dotted in clusters
+and made into fly-fringe. Bridget Neal, writing in 1685 to her sister, says:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I am told las is yused on petit-coats. Three fringes is much yused, but they
+are not set on the petcot strait, but in waves; it does not look well, unless
+all the fringes yused that fashion is the plane twisted fring not very deep. I
+hear some has nine fringes sett in this fashion.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Anxiety to please his honored mother, and desire that she should be dressed in
+the top of the mode, show in every letter of John Hall:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I bought your muffs of my Coz. Jno. Rolfe who tells me they are worth more
+money than I gave for them. You desired yours Modish yet Long; but here with us
+they are now much shorter. These were made a Purpose for you. As to yr Silk
+Flowered Manto, I hope it may please you; Tis not the Mode to lyne you now at
+all; but if you like to have it soe, any silke will serve, and may be done at
+yr pleasure.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In 1663 Pepys notes (with his customary delight at a new fashion, mingled with
+fear that thereby he might be led into more expense) that ladies at the play
+put on “vizards which hid the whole face, and had become a great fashion; and
+<i>so</i> to the Exchange to buy a Vizard for my wife.” Soon he added a French
+mask, which led to some unpleasant encounters for Mrs. Pepys with dissolute
+courtiers on the street. The plays in London were then so bold and so bad that
+we cannot wonder at the masks of the play-goers. The masks concealed constant
+blushes; but wearers and hearers did not stay away, for neither eyes nor ears
+were covered by the mask. Busino tells of a woman at the theatre all in yellow
+and scarlet, with two masks and three pairs of gloves, worn one pair over the
+other. Suddenly out came disappointing Queen Anne with her royal command that
+the plays be refined and reformed, and then masks were abandoned.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Blue_Brocade_Gown_and_Quilted_Satin_Petticoat."></a>
+<img src="images/182.jpg" alt="Blue Brocade Gown and Quilted Satin Petticoat."
+/>
+<p class="caption">Blue Brocade Gown and Quilted Satin Petticoat.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Masks were in those years in constant wear in the French court and society, as
+a protection to the complexion when walking or riding. Sometimes plain glass
+was fitted in the eye-holes. French masks had wires which fastened behind the
+ears, or a mouthpiece of silver; or they had an ingenious and simple stay in
+the form of two strings at the corners of the mouth-opening of the mask. These
+strings ended in a silver button or glass bead. With a bead held firmly in
+either corner of her mouth, the mask-wearer could talk. These vizards are seen
+in old English wood-cuts, often hanging by the side, fastened to the belt with
+a small cord or chain. They brought forth the bitter denunciations of the old
+Puritan Stubbes. He writes in his <i>Anatomie of Abuses</i>:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“When they vse to ride abroad, they haue visors made of ueluet (or in my
+iudgment they may rather be called inuisories) wherewith they couer all their
+faces, hauing holes made in them agaynst their eies, whereout they looke. So
+that if a man that knew not their guise before, shoulde chaunce to meete one of
+theme, he would thinke he mette a monster or a deuill; for face he can see
+none, but two broad holes against their eyes with glasses in them.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Masks were certainly worn to a considerable extent in America. As early as
+1645, masks were forbidden in Plymouth, Massachusetts, “for improper purposes.”
+When you think of the Plymouth of that year, its few houses and inhabitants,
+its desperate struggle to hold its place at all as a community, the narrow
+means of its citizens, the comparatively scant wardrobes of the wives and
+daughters, this restriction as to mask-wearing seems a grim jest. They were for
+sale in Salem and Boston, black velvet masks worth two shillings each; but
+these towns were more flourishing than Plymouth. And New York dames had them,
+and the planters’ wives of Virginia and South Carolina.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I suppose Madam Symonds wore her mask when she mounted on a pillion behind some
+strong young lad, and rode out to Argilla Farm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A few years later than the dates when Madam Symonds was ordering these
+fashionable articles of dress from England a rhyming catalogue of a lady’s
+toilet was written by John Evelyn and entitled, <i>Mundus Muliebris or a Voyage
+to Mary-Land</i>; it might be a list of Madam Symonds’s wardrobe. Some of the
+lines run:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“One gown of rich black silk, which odd is<br/>
+Without one coloured embroidered boddice.<br/>
+Three manteaux, nor can Madam less<br/>
+Provision have for due undress.<br/>
+Of under-boddice three neat pair<br/>
+Embroidered, and of shoes as fair;<br/>
+Short under petticoats, pure fine,<br/>
+Some of Japan stuff, some of Chine,<br/>
+With knee-high galoon bottomed;<br/>
+Another quilted white and red,<br/>
+With a broad Flanders lace below.<br/>
+Three night gowns of rich Indian stuff;<br/>
+Four cushion-cloths are scarce enough.<br/>
+A manteau girdle, ruby buckle,<br/>
+And brilliant diamond ring for knuckle.<br/>
+Fans painted and perfumed three;<br/>
+Three muffs of ermine, sable, grey.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Other articles of personal and household comfort were gathered in London shops
+by her dutiful son and sent to Madam Symonds. The list is full of interest, and
+helps to fill out the picture of daily life. He despatched to her cloves,
+nutmegs, spices, eringo roots, “coronation” and stock-gilly-flower seed, “colly
+flower seed,” hearth brushes (these came every year), silver whistles and
+several pomanders and pomander-beads, bouquet-glasses (which could hardly have
+been the bosom bottles which were worn later), necklaces, amber beads, many and
+varied pins, needles, silk lacings, kid gloves, silver ink-boxes, sealing-wax,
+gilt trunks, fancy boxes, painted desks, tape, ferret, bobbin, bone lace,
+calico, gimp, many yards of ducape, lustring, persian, and other silk
+stuffs—all these items of transport show the son’s devoted selection of the
+articles his mother wished. Gowns seem never to have been sent, but manteaus,
+mantles, and “ferrandine” cloaks appear frequently. Of course there are some
+articles which cannot be positively described to-day, such as the “shape, with
+ruffles” and “double pleated drolls” and “lace drolls” which appear several
+times on the lists. These “drolls” were, I believe, the “drowlas” of Madame de
+Lange, in New Amsterdam. “Men’s knives” occasionally were sent, and “women’s
+knives” many times. These latter had hafts of ivory, agate, and
+“Ellotheropian.” This Ellotheropian or Alleteropeain or Illyteropian stone has
+been ever a great puzzle to me until in another letter I chanced to find the
+spelling Hellotyropian; then I knew the real word was the Heliotropium of the
+ancients, our blood-stone. It was a favorite stone of the day not only for
+those fancy-handled knives, but for seals, finger-rings and other forms of
+ornament.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A few books were on the list,—a Greek Lexicon ordered as a gift for a student;
+a very costly Bible, bound in velvet, with silver clasps, the expense of which
+was carefully detailed down to the Indian silk for the inner-end leaves;
+“<i>Dod on Commandments</i>—my Ant Jane said you had a fancie for it, and I
+have bound it in green plush for you.” Fancy any one having a fancy for Dod on
+anything! and fancy Dod in green plush covers!
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 35%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>This day the King began to put on his vest; and I did see several persons of
+the House of Lords and Commons too, great courtiers who are in it, being a long
+cassock close to the body, of long cloth, pinked with white silk under it, and
+a coat over it, and the legs ruffled with white ribbon like a pigeon’s leg; and
+upon the whole I wish the King may keep it, for it is a very fine and handsome
+garment.</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Diary,” SAMUEL PEPYS, October 8, 1666.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>Fashion then was counted a disease and horses died of it.</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“The Gulls Hornbook,” ANDREW DEKKER, 1609.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="90" height="87" src="images/initialb.jpg" alt="B" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+oth word and garment—coat—are of curious interest, one as a philological study,
+the other as an evolution. A singular transfer of meaning from cot or cote, a
+house and shelter, to the word coat, used for a garment, is duplicated in some
+degree in chasuble, casule, and cassock; the words body, and bodice; and corse
+or corpse, and corselet and corset. The word coat, meaning a garment for men
+for covering the upper part of the body, has been in use for centuries; but of
+very changeable and confusing usage, for it also constantly meant petticoat.
+The garment itself was a puzzle, for many years; most bewildering of all the
+attire which was worn by the first colonists was the elusive, coatlike
+over-garment called in shipping-lists, tailors’ orders, household inventories,
+and other legal and domestic records a doublet, a jerkin, a jacket, a cassock,
+a paltock, a coat, a horseman’s coat, an upper-coat, and a buff-coat. All these
+garments resembled each other; all closed with a single row of buttons or
+points or hooks and eyes. There was not a double-breasted coat in the
+<i>Mayflower</i>, nor on any man in any of the colonies for many years; they
+hadn’t been invented. Let me attempt to define these several coatlike garments.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="A_Plain_Jerkin."></a>
+<img src="images/188.jpg" alt="A Plain Jerkin." />
+<p class="caption">A Plain Jerkin.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In 1697 a jerkin was described by Randle Holme as “a kind of jacket or upper
+doublet, with four skirts or laps.” These laps were made by slits up from the
+hem to the belt-line, and varied in number, but four on each side was a usual
+number, or there might be a slit up the back, and one on each hip, which would
+afford four laps in all. Mr. Knight, in his notes on Shakespere’s use of the
+word, conjectures that the jerkin was generally worn over the doublet; but one
+guess is as good as another, and I guess it was not. I agree, however, with his
+surmise that the two garments were constantly confounded; in truth it is not a
+surmise, it is a fact. Shakespere expressed the situation when he said in
+<i>The Two Gentlemen of Verona</i>, “My jerkin is a doublet;” and I fancy there
+was slight difference in the garments, save that in the beginning the doublet
+was always of two thicknesses, as its name indicates; and it was wadded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As the jerkin was often minutely slashed, it could scarcely have been wadded;
+though it may have had a lining for special display through the slashes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A jerkin had no skirts in our modern sense of the word,—a piece set on at the
+waist-line,—nor could it on that account be what we term a coat, nor was it a
+coat, nor was it what the colonists deemed a coat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old Dutch word is <i>jurkken</i>, and it was often thus spelt, which has
+led some to deem it a Dutch name and article of dress. But then it was also
+spelt <i>irkin, ircken, jorken, jorgen, erkyn</i>, and <i>ergoin</i>—which are
+not Dutch nor any other tongue. Indeed, under the name <i>ergoin</i> I wonder
+that we recognize it or that it knew itself. A jerkin was often of leather like
+a buff-coat, but not always so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sir Richard Saltonstall wears a buff-coat, with handsome sword-belt, or
+trooping-belt, and rich gloves. His portrait is shown <a
+href="#Sir_Richard_Saltonstall.">here</a>. As we look at his fine countenance
+we think of Hawthorne’s words:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“What dignitary is this crossing to greet the Governor. A stately personage in
+velvet cloak—with ample beard and a gold band across his breast. He has the
+authoritative port of one who has filled the highest civic position in the
+first of cities. Of all men in the world, we should least expect to meet the
+Lord Mayor of London—as Sir Richard Saltonstall has been once and again—in a
+forest-bordered settlement in the western wilderness.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A fine buff-coat and a buff-coat sleeve are given in the chapter upon Armor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the early colonial inventories of wearing-apparel contain doublets. Richard
+Sawyer died in 1648 in Windsor, Connecticut; he was a plain average “Goodman
+Citizen.” A part of his apparel was thus inventoried:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound;;</td><td> s.</td><td>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 musck-colour’d cloth doublitt &amp;; breeches</td><td>1</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 bucks leather doublitt</td><td></td><td>12</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 calves leather doublitt</td><td></td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 liver-colour’d doublitt &amp;; jacket &amp;; breeches</td><td></td><td>7</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 haire-colour’d doublitt &amp;; jackett &amp;; breeches </td><td></td><td>5</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 paire canvas drawers</td><td></td><td>1</td><td>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 olde coate. 1 paire old gray breeches</td><td></td><td>5</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 stuffe jackett</td><td></td><td>2</td><td>6</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+William Kempe of “Duxborrow,” a settler of importance, died in 1641. His
+wardrobe was more varied, and ample and rich. He left two buff-coats and
+leather doublets with silver buttons; cloth doublets, three horsemen’s coats,
+“frize jerkines,” three cassocks, two cloaks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of course we turn to Stubbes to see what he can say for or against doublets.
+His outcry here is against their size; and those who know the “great
+pease-cod-bellied doublets” of Elizabeth’s day will agree with him that they
+look as if a man were wholly gone to “gourmandice and gluttonie.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="A_Doublet."></a>
+<img src="images/191.jpg" alt="A Doublet." />
+<p class="caption">A Doublet.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Stubbes has a very good list of coats and jerkins in which he gives
+incidentally an excellent description by which we may know a mandillion:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Their coates and jerkins as they be diuers in colours so be they diuers in
+fashions; for some be made with collars, some without, some close to the body,
+some loose, which they call mandilians, couering the whole body down to the
+thigh, like bags or sacks, that were drawne ouer them, hiding the dimensions
+and lineaments of the body. Some are buttoned down the breast, some vnder the
+arme, and some down the backe, some with flaps over the brest, some without,
+some with great sleeves, some with small, some with none at all, some pleated
+and crested behind and curiously gathered and some not.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+An old satirical print, dated 1644, gives drawings of men of all the new
+varieties of religious belief and practices which “pestered Christians” at the
+beginning of the century. With the exception of the Adamite, whose garb is that
+of Adam in the Garden of Eden, all ten wear doublets. These vary slightly, much
+less than in Stubbes’s list of jerkins. One is open up the back with buttons
+and button-loops. Another has the “four laps on a side,” showing it is a
+jerkin. Another is opened on the hips; one is slit at back and hips. All save
+one from neck to hem are buttoned in front with a single row of buttons, with
+no lapells, collar, or cuffs, and no “flaps,” no ornaments or trimming. A linen
+shirt-cuff and a plain band finish sleeves and neck of all save the Arminian,
+who wears a small ruff. Not one of these doublets is a graceful or an elegant
+garment. All are shapeless and over-plain; and have none of the French
+smartness that came from the spreading coat-skirts of men’s later wear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The welts or wings named in the early sumptuary laws were the pieces of cloth
+set at the shoulder over the arm-hole where body and sleeves meet. The welt was
+at first a sort of epaulet, but grew longer and often set out, thus deserving
+its title of wings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A dress of the times is thus described:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“His doublet was of a strange cut, the collar of it was up so high and sharp as
+it would cut his throat. His wings according to the fashion now were as little
+and diminutive as a Puritan’s ruff.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A note to this says that “wings were lateral projections, extending from each
+shoulder”—a good round sentence that by itself really means nothing. Ben Jonson
+calls them “puff-wings.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is one positive rule in the shape of doublets; they were always welted at
+the arm-hole. Possibly the sleeves were sometimes sewn in, but even then there
+was always a cap, a welt or a hanging sleeve or some edging. In the
+illustrations of the <i>Roxburghe Ballads</i> there is not a doublet or jerkin
+on man, woman, or child but is thus welted. Some trimming around the arm-hole
+was a law. This lasted until the coat was wholly evolved. This had sleeves, and
+the shoulder-welt vanished.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These welts were often turreted or cut in squares. You will note this turreted
+shoulder in some form on nearly all the doublets given in the portraits
+displayed in this book—both on men and women. For doublets were also worn by
+women. Stubbes says, “Though this be a kind of attire proper only to a man, yet
+they blush not to wear it.” The old print of the infamous Mrs. Turner given <a
+href="#AWomansDoubletMrsAnneTurner">here</a> shows her in a doublet.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="JAMES_DUKE_OF_YORK"></a>
+<img src="images/194.jpg" alt="The high borne Prince Iames Dvke of Yorke borne
+October = the 13.1633" />
+<p class="caption">James, Duke of York.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Another author complains:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“If Men get up French standing collars Women will have the French standing
+collar too: if Dublets with little thick skirts, so short none are able to sit
+upon them, women’s foreparts are thick skirted too.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Children also had doublets and this same shoulder-cap at the arm-hole; their
+little doublets were made precisely like those of their parents. Look at the
+childish portrait of Lady Arabella Stuart, the portrait with the doll. Her fat
+little figure is squeezed in a doublet which has turreted welts like those worn
+by Anne Boleyn and by Pocahontas (shown <a href="#Pocahontas.">here</a>). Often
+a button was set between each square of the welt, and the sleeve loops or
+points could be tied to these buttons and thus hold up the detached
+undersleeves. The portrait of Sir Richard Saltonstall vaguely shows these
+buttons. Nearly all these garments-jerkins, jackets, doublets, buff-coats,
+paltocks, were sleeveless, especially when worn as the uppermost or outer
+garment. Holinshed tells of “doublets full of jagges and cuts and sleeves of
+sundry colours.” These welts were “embroidered, indented, waved, furred,
+chisel-punched, dagged,” as well as turreted. On one sleeve the turreted welt
+varied, the middle square or turret was long, the others each two inches
+shorter. Thus the sleeve-welt had a “crow-step” shape. A charming doublet
+sleeve of Elizabeth’s day displayed a short hanging sleeve that was scarce more
+than a hanging welt. This was edged around with crystal balls or buttons. Other
+welts were scalloped, with an eyelet-hole in each scallop, like the edge of old
+ladies’ flannel petticoats. Othersome welts were a round stuffed roll. This
+roll also had its day around the petticoat edge, as may be seen in the
+petticoat of the child Henry Gibbes. This roll still appears on Japanese
+kimonos.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We are constantly finding complaints of the unsuitably ambitious attire of
+laboring folk in such sentences as this:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The plowman, in times past content in russet, must now-a-daies have his
+doublett of the fashion with wide cuts; his fine garters of Granada, to meet
+his Sis on Sunday. The fair one in russet frock and mockaldo sleeves now sells
+a cow against Easter to buy her silken gear.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Velvet jerkins and damask doublets were for men of dignity and estate. Governor
+Winthrop had two tufted velvet jerkins.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Jerkins and doublets varied much in shape and detail:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“These doublets were this day short-waisted, anon, long-bellied;
+by-and-by-after great-buttoned, straight-after plain-laced, or else your
+buttons as strange for smallness as were before for bigness.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="An_Embroidered_Jerkin."></a>
+<img src="images/197.jpg" alt="An Embroidered Jerkin." />
+<p class="caption">An Embroidered Jerkin.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In Charles II’s time at the May-pole dances still appear the old, welted
+doublets. Jack may have worn Cicily’s doublet, and Peg may have borrowed Will’s
+for all the difference that can be seen. The man’s doublet did not ever have
+long, hanging sleeves, however, in the seventeenth century, while women wore
+such sleeves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sometimes the sleeves were very large, as in the Bowdoin portrait (<a
+href="#A_Bowdoin_Portrait">here</a>). The great puffs were held out by
+whalebones and rolls of cotton, and “tiring-sleeves” of wires, a fashion which
+has obtained for women at least seven times in the history of English costume.
+Gosson describes the vast sleeves of English doublets thus;—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“This Cloth of Price all cut in ragges,<br/>
+    These monstrous bones that compass arms,<br/>
+These buttons, pinches, fringes, jagges,<br/>
+    With them he (the Devil) weaveth woeful harms.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We have seen how bitterly the slashing of good cloth exercised good men. The
+“cutting in rags” was slashing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A favorite pattern of slashing is in small, narrow slits as shown in the
+portrait <a href="#JamesDouglasEarlofMorton">here</a> of James Douglas. These
+jerkins are of leather, and the slashes are of course ornamental, and are also
+for health and comfort, as those know who wear chamois jackets with perforated
+holes throughout them, or slashes if we choose to call them so. They permit a
+circulation of the skin and a natural condition. These jerkins are slashed in
+curious little cuts, “carved of very good intail,” as was said of King Henry’s
+jerkin, which means, in modern English, cut in very good designs. And I
+presume, being of buff leather, the slashes were simply cut, not overcast or
+embroidered as were some wool stuffs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The guard was literally a guard to the seam, a strip of galloon, silk, lace,
+velvet, put on over the seam to protect and strengthen it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The large openings or slashes were called panes. Fynes Mayson says, “Lord
+Mountjoy wore jerkins and round hose with laced panes of russet cloth.” The
+Swiss dress was painted by Coryat as doublet and hose of panes intermingled of
+red and yellow, trimmed with long puffs of blue and yellow rising up between
+the panes. It was necessarily a costly dress. Of course this is the same word
+with the same meaning as when used in the term a “pane of glass.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word “pinches” refers to an elaborate pleating which was worn for years; it
+lingered in America till 1750, and we have revived it in what we term
+“accordion pleating.” The seventeenth-century pinching was usually applied to
+lawn or some washable stuff; and there must have been a pinching, a goffering
+machine by which the pinching was done to the washed garment by means of a
+heated iron.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="John_Lilburne."></a>
+<img src="images/199.jpg" alt="John Lilburne." />
+<p class="caption">John Lilburne.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Pinched sleeves, pinched partlets, pinched shirts, pinched wimples, pinched
+ruffs, are often referred to, all washable garments. The good wife of Bath wore
+a wimple which was “y-pinched full seemly.” Henry VIII wore a pinched
+habit-shirt of finest lawn, and his fine, healthy skin glowed pink through the
+folds of the lawn after his hearty exercise at tennis and all kinds of athletic
+sports, for which he had thrown off his doublet. We are taught to deem him “a
+spot of grease and blood on England’s page.” There was more muscle than fat in
+him; he could not be restrained from constant, violent, dangerous exercise;
+this was one of the causes of the admiration of his subjects.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The pinched partlet made a fine undergarment for the slashed doublet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So full, so close, were these “pinchings,” that one author complained that men
+wearing them could not draw their bowstrings well. It was said that the
+“pinched partlet and puffed sleeves” of a courtier would easily make a lad a
+doublet and cloak.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In my chapter on Children’s Dress I tell of the pinched shirt worn by Governor
+Bradford when an infant, and give an illustration of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aglets or tags were a pretty fashion revived for women’s wear three years ago.
+Under Stuart reign, these aglets were of gold or silver, and set with precious
+stones such as pear-shaped pearls. For ordinary wear they were of metal, silk,
+or leather. They secured from untwisting or ravelling the points which were
+worn for over a century; these were ties or laces of ribbon, or woollen yarn or
+leather, decorated with tags or aglets at one end. Points were often
+home-woven, and were deemed a pretty gift to a friend. They were employed
+instead of buttons in securing clothes, and were used by the earliest settlers,
+chiefly, I think, as ornaments at the knee or for holding up the stockings in
+the place of garters. They were regarded as but foolish vanities, and were one
+of the articles of finery tabooed in early sumptuary laws. In 1651 the general
+court of Massachusetts expressed its “utter detestation and dislike that men of
+meane condition, education and calling should take upon them the garbe of
+gentlemen by the wearinge of poynts at the knees.” Fashion was more powerful
+than law; the richly trimmed, sashlike garters quickly displaced the modest
+points.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Earl of Southampton, friend of Shakespere and of Virginia, as pictured on a
+later page, wears a doublet with agletted points around his belt, by which
+breeches and doublet are tied together. This is a striking portrait. The face
+is very noble. A similar belt was the favorite wear of Charles I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Martin Frobisher, the hero of the Armada, wears a jerkin fastened down the
+front with buttons and aigletted points. (See <a
+href="#A_Plain_Jerkin.">here</a>.) I suppose, when the fronts of the jerkin
+were thoroughly joined, each button had a point twisted or tied around it.
+Frobisher’s lawn ruff is a modest and becoming one. This portrait in the
+original is full length. The remainder of the costume is very plain; it has no
+garters, no knee-points, no ribbons, no shoe-roses. The foot-covering is
+Turkish slippers precisely like the Oriental slippers which are imported
+to-day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Earl of Morton (<a href="#JamesDouglasEarlofMorton">here</a>) wore a jerkin
+of buff leather curiously pinked and slashed. Fulke Greville’s doublet (<a
+href="#FulkeGrevilleLordBrooke">here</a>) has a singular puff around the waist,
+like a farthingale.<a href="#A_Doublet.">Here</a> is shown a doublet of the
+commonest form; this is worn by Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire. The
+portrait is painted by Sir Antonio More—the portrait of one artist by another,
+and a very fine one, too.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another garment, which is constantly named in lists of clothing, was the
+cassock. Steevens says a cassock “signifies a horseman’s loose coat, and is
+used in that sense by the writers of the age of Shakespere.” It was apparently
+a garment much like a doublet or jerkin, and the names were used
+interchangeably. I think the cassock was longer than the doublet, and without
+“laps.” The straight, long coats shown on the gentlemen in the picture <a
+href="#Funeral_Procession.">here</a> were cassocks. The name finally became
+applied only to the coat or gown of the clergy. In the will of Robert
+Saltonstall, made in 1650, he names a “Plush Cassock,” but cloth cassocks were
+the commonest wear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were other names for the doublet which are now difficult to place
+precisely. In the reign of Henry VIII a law was passed as to men’s wear of
+velvet in their sleeveless cotes, jackets, and jupes. This word jupe and its
+ally jupon were more frequently heard in women’s lists; but jump, a derivative,
+was man’s wear. Randle Holme said: “A jump extendeth to the thighs; is open and
+buttoned before, and may have a slit half way behind.” It might be with or
+without sleeves—all this being likewise true of the doublet. From this jump
+descended the modern jumper and the eighteenth century jumps—what Dr. Johnson
+defined in one of his delightsome struggles with the names of women’s attire,
+“Jumps: a kind of loose or limber stays worn by sickly ladies.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Colonel_William_Legge."></a>
+<img src="images/203.jpg" alt="Colonel William Legge." />
+<p class="caption">Colonel William Legge.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Coats were not furnished to the Massachusetts or Plymouth planters, but those
+of Piscataquay in New Hampshire had “lined coats,” which were simply doublets
+like all the rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1633 we find that Governor Winthrop had several dozen scarlet coats sent
+from England to “the Bay.” The consigner wrote, “I could not find any
+Bridgwater cloth but Red; so all the coats sent are red lined with blew, and
+lace suitable; which red is the choise color of all.” These coats of double
+thickness were evidently doublets.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word “coat” in the earliest lists must often refer to a waistcoat. I infer
+this from the small cost of the garments, the small amount of stuff it took to
+make them, and because they were worn with “Vper coats”—upper coats.
+Raccoon-skin and deerskin coats were many; these were likewise waistcoats, and
+the first lace coats were also waistcoats. Robert Keayne of Boston had costly
+lace coats in 1640, which he wore with doublets—these likewise were waistcoats.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As years go on, the use of the word becomes constant. There were “moose-coats”
+of mooseskin. Josselyn says mooseskin made excellent coats for martial men.
+Then come papous coats and pappous coats. These I inferred—since they were used
+in Indian trading—were for pappooses’ wear, pappoose being the Indian word for
+child. But I had a painful shock in finding in the <i>Traders’ Table of
+Values</i> that “3 Pappous Skins equal 1 Beaver”—so I must not believe that
+pappoose here means Indian baby. Match-coats were originally of skins dressed
+with the fur on, shaped in a coat like the hunting-shirt. The “Duffield
+Match-coat” was made of duffels, a woollen stuff, in the same shape. Duffels
+was called match-cloth. The word “coat” here is not really an English word; it
+is matchigode, the Chippewa Indian name for this garment.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="205"></a>
+<img src="images/205.jpg" width="397" height="600" alt="[Illustration: Sir
+Thomas Orchard, Knight]" />
+<p class="caption">Sir Thomas Orchard, Knight
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+We have in old-time letters and accounts occasional proof that the coat of the
+Puritan fathers was not at all like the shapely coat of our day. We have also
+many words to prove that the coat was a doublet which, as old Stubbes said,
+could be “pleated, or crested behind and curiously gathered.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The tailor of the Winthrop family was one John Smith; he made garments for them
+all, father, mother, children, and children’s wives, and husband’s sisters,
+nieces, cousins, and aunts. He was a good Puritan, and seems to have been much
+esteemed by Winthrop. One letter accompanying a coat runs: “Good Mr. Winthrop,
+I have, by Mr. Downing’s direction sent you a coat, a sad foulding colour
+without lace. For the fittness I am a little vncerteyne, but if it be too bigg
+or too little it is esie to amend, vnder the arme to take in or let out the
+lyning; the outside may be let out in the gathering or taken in also without
+any prejudice.” This instruction would appear to prove not only that the coat
+was a doublet, “curiously gathered” but that the “fittness” was more than
+“uncerteyne” of the coats of the Fathers. Since even such wildly broad
+directions could not “prejudice” the coat, we may assume that Governor Winthrop
+was more easily suited as to the cut of his apparel, than would have been Sir
+Walter Raleigh or Sir Philip Sidney.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though Puritan influence on dress simplified much of the flippery and finery of
+the days of Elizabeth and James, and the refining elegance of Van Dyck gave
+additional simplicity as well as beauty to women’s attire, which it retained
+for many years, still there lingered throughout the seventeenth century, ready
+to spring into fresh life at a breath of encouragement, many grotesqueries of
+fashion in men’s dress which, in the picturesque sneer of the day, were deemed
+meet only for “a changeable-silk-gallant.” At the restoration of the crown,
+courtiers seemed to love to flaunt frivolity in the faces of the Puritans.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One of these trumperies came through the excessive use of ribbons, a use which
+gave much charm to women’s dress, but which ever gave to men’s garments a
+finicky look. Beribboned doublets came in the butterfly period, between worm
+and chrysalis, between doublet and coat; beribboned breeches were eagerly
+adopted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Shown <a href="#205">here</a> is the copy of an old print, which shows the
+dress of an estimable and sensible gentleman, Sir Thomas Orchard, with
+ribbon-edged garments and much galloon or laces. It is far too much trimmed to
+be rich or elegant. See also <i>The English Antick</i> on this page, from a
+rare broadside. His tall hat is beribboned and befeathered; his face is
+patched, ribbons knot his love-locks, his breeches are edged with agletted
+ribbons, and “on either side are two great bunches of ribbons of several
+colors.” Similar knots are at wrists and belt. His boots are fringed with lace,
+and so wide that he “straddled as he went along singing.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="The_English_Antick."></a>
+<img src="images/207.jpg" alt="The English Antick." />
+<p class="caption">The English Antick.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Ribboned sleeves like those of Colonel Legge, <a
+href="#Colonel_William_Legge.">here</a>, were a pretty fashion, but more suited
+to women’s wear than to men’s.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, tells us what he thought of such attire.
+He wrote satirically:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“If one have store of ribands hanging about his waist or his knees and in his
+hat; of divers colours red, white black or yellow, O! then he is a brave man.
+He hath ribands on his back, belly and knees, and his hair powdered, this is
+the array of the world. Are not these that have got ribands hanging about their
+arms, hands, back, waist, knees, hats, like fiddlers’ boys? And further if one
+get a pair of breeches like a coat and hang them about with points, and tied up
+almost to the middle, a pair of double cuffs on his hands, and a feather in his
+cap, here is a gentleman!”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+These beribboned garments were a French mode. The breeches were the
+“rhingraves” of the French court, which were breeches made wholly of loops of
+ribbons—like two ribboned petticoats. They caught the eye of seafaring men; we
+know that Jack ashore loves finery. We are told of sea-captains wearing
+beribboned breeches as they came into quiet little American ports, and of one
+English gallant landing from a ship in sober Boston, wearing breeches made
+wholly from waist to knee of overlapping loops of gay varicolored ribbon. It is
+recorded that “the boys did wonder and call out thereat,” and they “were chided
+therefor.” It is easy to picture the scene: the staring boys, born in Boston,
+of Puritan parents, of dignified dress, and more familiar with fringes on the
+garments of savage Indians than on the breeches of English gentlemen; we can
+see the soberly reproving minister or schoolmaster looking with equal
+disapproval on the foppish visitor and the mannerless boys; and the gayly
+dressed ship’s captain, armed with self-satisfaction and masculine vanity,
+swaggering along the narrow streets of the little town. It mattered not what he
+wore or what he did, a seafaring man was welcome. I wonder what the governor
+thought of those beribboned breeches! Perhaps he ordered a pair from London for
+himself,—of sad-colored ribbons,—offering the color as a compromise for the
+over-gayety of the ribbons. Randle Holme gave in 1658 three descriptions of the
+first petticoat-breeches, with drawings of each. One had the lining lower than
+the breeches, and tied in about the knees; ribbons extended halfway up the
+breeches, and ribbons hung out from the doublet all about the waistband. The
+second had a single row of pointed ribbons hanging all around the lower edge of
+the breeches; these were worn with stirrup-hose two yards wide at the top, tied
+by points and eyelet-holes to the breeches. The third had stirrup-hose tied to
+the breeches, and another pair of hose over them turned down at the calf of the
+leg, and the ribbons edged the stirrup-hose. His drawings of them are foolish
+things—not even pretty. He says ribbons were worn first at the knees, then at
+the waist at the doublet edge, then around the neck, then on the wrists and
+sleeves. These knee-ribbons formed what Dryden called in 1674 “a dangling
+knee-fringe.” It is difficult for me to think of Dryden living at that period
+of history. He seems to me infinitely modern in comparison with it. Evelyn
+describes the wearer of such a suit as “a fine silken thing”; and tells that
+the ribbons were of “well-chosen colours of red, orange, and blew, of
+well-gummed satin, which augured a happy fancy.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1672 a suit of men’s clothes was made for the beautiful Duchess of
+Portsmouth to wear to a masquerade; this was with “Rhingrave breeches and
+cannons.” The suit was of dove-colored silk brocade trimmed with scarlet and
+silver lace and ribbons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ten yards of brocade for this beautiful suit cost &pound;;14. The Rhingrave
+breeches were trimmed with thirty-six yards of figured scarlet ribbon and
+thirty-six yards of plain satin ribbon and thirty-six of scarlet taffeta
+ribbon; this made one hundred and eight yards of ribbon—a great amount—an
+unusable amount. I fear the tailor was not honest. There were also as trimmings
+twenty-two yards of scarlet and silver vellum lace for guards; six dozen
+scarlet and silver vellum buttons, smaller breast buttons, narrow laces for the
+waistcoat, and silver twist for buttonholes. The suit was lined with
+lutestring. There was a black beaver hat with scarlet and silver edging, and
+lace embroidered scarlet stockings, a rich belt and lace garters, and point
+lace ruffles for the neck, sleeves, and knees. This suit had an interlining of
+scarlet camlet; and lutestring drawers seamed with scarlet and silver lace. The
+total bill of &pound;;59 would be represented to-day by $1400,—a goodly
+sum,—but it was a goodly suit. There is a portrait of the Duchess of Richmond
+in a similar suit, now at Buckingham Palace. Portraits of the Duke of Bedford,
+and of George I, painted by Kneller, are almost equally beribboned. The one of
+the king is given facing this page to show his ribbons and also the
+extraordinary shoes, which were fashionable at this date.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="George_I."></a>
+<img src="images/211.jpg" alt="George I." />
+<p class="caption">George I.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+“Indians gowns,” or banyans, were for a century worn in England and America,
+and are of enough importance to receive a separate chapter in this book. The
+graceful folds allured all men and all portrait painters, just as the
+fashionable new china allured all women. The banyan was not the only Oriental
+garment which had become of interest to Englishmen. John Evelyn described in
+his <i>Tyrannus or the Mode</i> the “comeliness and usefulnesse” of all Persian
+clothing; and he noted with justifiable gratification that the new attire which
+had recently been adopted by King Charles II was “a comely dress after ye
+Persian mode.” He says modestly, “I do not impute to this my discourse the
+change which soone happened; but it was an identity I could not but take notice
+of.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Rugge in his <i>Diurnal</i> describes the novel dress which was assumed by King
+Charles and the whole court, due notice of a subject of so much importance
+having been given to the council the previous month; and notice of the king’s
+determination “never to change it,” which he kept like many another of his
+promises and resolutions.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“It is a close coat of cloth pinkt with a white taffety under the cutts. This
+in length reached the calf of the leg; and upon that a sercoat cutt at the
+breast, which hung loose and shorter than the vest six inches. The breeches the
+Spanish cutt; and buskins some of cloth, some of leather but of the same colour
+as the vest or garment; of never the like garment since William the Conqueror.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Three_Cassock_Sleeves_and_a_Buff-coat_Sleeve."></a>
+<img src="images/213.jpg" alt="Three Cassock Sleeves and a Buff-coat Sleeve."
+/>
+<p class="caption">Three Cassock Sleeves and a Buff-coat Sleeve.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Pepys we have seen further explained that it was all black and white, the black
+cassock being close to the body. “The legs ruffled with black ribands like a
+pigeon’s leg, and I wish the King may keep it for it is a fine and handsome
+garment.” The news which came to the English court a month later that the king
+of France had put all his footmen and servants in this same dress as a livery
+made Pepys “mightie merry, it being an ingenious kind of affront, and yet makes
+me angry,” which is as curious a frame of mind as even curious Pepys could
+record. Planché doubts this act of the king of France; but in <i>The Character
+of a Trimmer</i> the story is told <i>in extenso</i>—that the “vests were put
+on at first by the King to make Englishmen look unlike Frenchmen; but at the
+first laughing at it all ran back to the dress of French gentlemen.” The king
+had already taken out the white linings as “’tis like a magpie;” and was glad
+to quit it I do not doubt. Dr. Holmes—and the rest of us—have looked askance at
+the word “vest” as allied in usage to that unutterable contraction, pants. But
+here we find that vest is a more classic name than waistcoat for this dull
+garment—a garment with too little form or significance to be elegant or
+interesting or attractive.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="HenryBennetEarlofArlington"></a>
+<img src="images/214.jpg" alt="Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington." />
+<p class="caption">Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Though this dress was adopted by the whole court, and though it was an age of
+portrait painting,—and surely no more delicate flattery to the king’s taste
+could be given than to have one’s portrait painted in the king’s chosen
+vestments,—yet but one portrait remains which is stated to display this dress.
+This is the portrait of Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington—it is shown on this
+page. This was painted by the king’s own painter, Sir Peter Lely. I must say
+that I cannot find much resemblance to Pepys’s or Rugge’s description, unless
+the word “pinked” means cut out in an all-over pattern like Italian cut-work;
+then this inner vest might be of “cloth pinkt with a white taffeta under the
+coat.” The surcoat is of black lined with white. Of course the sash is present,
+but not in any way distinctive. It was a characteristic act in the Earl to be
+painted in this dress, for he was a courtier of courtiers, perhaps the most
+rigid follower of court rules in England. He was “by nature of a pleasant and
+agreeable humour,” but after a diplomatic journey on the continent he assumed
+an absurd formality of manner which was much ridiculed by his contemporaries.
+His letters show him to be exceeding nice in his phraseology; and he prided
+himself upon being the best-bred man in court. He was a trimmer, “the chief
+trickster of the court,” a member of the Cabal, the first <i>a</i> in the word;
+and he was heartily hated as well as ridiculed. When a young man he received a
+cut on the nose in a skirmish in Ireland; he never let his prowess be
+forgotten, but ever after wore a black patch over the scar—it may be seen in
+his portrait. When his fellow courtiers wished to gibe at him, they stuck black
+patches on their noses and with long white staves strutted around the court in
+imitation of his pompous manner. He is a handsome fellow, but too fat—which was
+not a curse of his day as of the present.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Funeral_Procession."></a>
+<img src="images/216.jpg" alt="Figures from Funeral Procession of the Duke of
+Albemarle, 1670." />
+<p class="caption">Figures from Funeral Procession of the Duke of Albemarle,
+1670.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Of course the king changed his dress many times after this solemn assumption of
+a lifelong garment. It was a restless, uncertain, trying time in men’s dress.
+They had lost the doublet, and had not found the skirted coat, and stood like
+the Englishman of Andrew Borde—ready to take a covering from any nation of the
+earth. I wonder the coat ever survived—that it did is proof of an inherent
+worth. Knowing the nature of mankind and the modes, the surprise really is that
+the descendants of Charles and all English folk are not now wearing shawls or
+peplums or anything save a coat and waistcoat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Some of the sturdy rich members of the governors’ cabinets and the assemblies
+and some of our American officers who had been in his Majesty’s army, or had
+served a term in the provincial militia, and had had a hot skirmish or two with
+marauding Indians on the Connecticut River frontier, and some very worthy
+American gentlemen who were not widely renowned either in military or
+diplomatic circles and had never worn armor save in the artist’s studio,—these
+were all painted by Sir Godfrey Kneller and by Sir Peter Lely, and by lesser
+lights in art, dressed in a steel corselet of the artist, and wearing their own
+good Flanders necktie and their own full well-buckled wig. There were some
+brave soldiers, too, who were thus painted, but there were far more in armor
+than had ever smelt smoke of powder. It was a good comfortable fashion for the
+busy artist. It must have been much easier when you had painted a certain
+corselet a hundred times to paint it again than to have to paint all kinds of
+new colors and stuffs. And the portrait in armor was almost always kitcat, and
+that disposed of the legs, ever a nuisance in portrait-painting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While the virago-sleeves were growing more and more ornamental, and engageants
+were being more and more worn by women, men’s sleeves assumed a most
+interesting form. The long coat, or cassock, had sleeves which were cut off at
+the elbow with great cuffs and were worn over enormous ruffled undersleeves;
+and they were even cut midway between shoulder and elbow, were slashed and
+pointed and beribboned to a wonderful degree. This lasted but a few years, the
+years when the cassock was shaping itself definitely into a skirted coat.
+Perhaps the height of ornamentation in sleeves was in the closing years of the
+reign of Charles II, though fancy sleeves lingered till the time of George I.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Earl_of_Southampton."></a>
+<img src="images/219.jpg" alt="Earl of Southampton." />
+<p class="caption">Earl of Southampton.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In an account of the funeral of George Monck, the Duke of Albemarle, in the
+year 1670, the dress is very carefully drawn of those who walked in the
+procession. (Some of them are given <a href="#Funeral_Procession.">here</a>.)
+It may be noted, first, that all the hats are lower crowned and straight
+crowned, not like a cone or a truncated cone, as crowns had been. The <i>Poor
+Men</i> are in robes with beards and flowing natural hair; they wear square
+bands, and carry staves. The <i>Clergymen</i> wear trailing surplices; but
+these are over a sort of cassock and breeches, and they all have high-heeled
+shoes with great roses. They also have their own hair. The <i>Doctors of
+Physic</i> are dressed like the <i>Gentlemen and Earls</i>, save that they wear
+a rich robe with bands at the upper arm, over the other fine dress. The
+gentlemen wear a cassock, or coat, which reaches to the knee; the pockets are
+nearly as low as the knee. These cassocks have lapels from neck to hem, with a
+long row of gold buttons which are wholly for ornament, the cassock never being
+fastened with the buttons. The sleeves reach only to the elbow and turn back in
+a spreading cuff; and from the elbow hang heavy ruffles and under-sleeves, some
+of rich lace, others of embroidery. The gentlemen and earls wear great wigs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This coat was called a surcoat or tunic. The under-coat, or waistcoat, was also
+called a vest, as by Charles the king.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From this vest, or surcoat, was developed a coat, with skirts, such as had
+become, ere the year 1700, the universal wear of English and American men. Its
+first form was adopted about at the close of the reign of Charles II. By 1688
+Quaker teachers warned their younger sort against “cross-pockets on men’s
+coats, side slopes, over-full skirted coats.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In an old play a man threatens a country lad, “I’ll make your buttons fly.” The
+lad replies, “All my buttons is loops.” Some garments, especially leather ones,
+like doublets, which were cumbersome to button, were secured by loops. For
+instance, in spatterdashes, a row of holes was set on one side, and of loops on
+the other. To fasten them, one must begin at the lower loop, pass this through
+the first hole, then put the second loop through that first loop and the second
+hole, and so on till the last loop was fastened to the breeches by buckle and
+strap or large single button. From these loops were developed frogs and loops.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Major John Pyncheon had, in 1703, a “light coulour’d cape-coat with Frogs on
+it.” In the <i>New England Weekly Journal</i> of 1736 “New Fashion’d Frogs” are
+named; and later, “Spangled Scalloped &amp;; Brocaded Frogs.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though these jerkins and mandillions and doublets which were furnished to the
+Bay colonists were fastened with hooks and eyes, buttons were worn also, as old
+portraits and old letters prove. John Eliot ordered for traffic with the
+Indians, in 1651, three gross of pewter buttons; and Robert Keayne, of Boston,
+writing in 1653, said bitterly that a “haynous offence” of his had been selling
+buttons at too large profit—that they were gold buttons and he had sold them
+for two shillings ninepence a dozen in Boston, when they had cost but two
+shillings a dozen in London (which does not seem, in the light of our modern
+profits on imported goods, a very “haynous” offence). He also added with
+acerbity that “they were never payd for by those that complayned.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Buttonholes were a matter of ornament more than of use; in fact, they were
+never used for closing the garment after coats came to be worn. They were
+carefully cut and “laid around” in gay colors, embroidered with silver and gold
+thread, bound with vellum, with kid, with velvet. We find in old-time letters
+directions about modish buttonholes, and drawings even, in order that the shape
+may be exactly as wished. An English contemporary of John Winthrop’s has
+tasselled buttonholes on his doublet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Various are the reasons given for the placing of the two buttons on the back of
+a man’s coat. One is that they are a survival of buttons which were used on the
+eighteenth-century riding-coat. The coat-tails were thus buttoned up when the
+wearer was on horseback. Another is that they were used for looping back the
+skirts of the coats; it is said that loops of cord were placed at the corners
+of the said skirts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A curious anecdote about these two buttons on the back of the coat is that a
+tribe of North American Indians, deep believers in the value of symbolism,
+refused to heed a missionary because he could not explain to them the
+significance of these two buttons.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>RUFFS AND BANDS</h3>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<i>“Fashion has brought in deep ruffs and shallow ruffs, thick ruffs and thin
+ruffs, double ruffs and no ruffs. When the Judge of the quick and the dead
+shall appear he will not know those who have so defaced the fashion he hath
+created.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—Sermon, JOHN KING, Bishop of London, 1590.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+“Now up aloft I mount unto the Ruffe<br/>
+Which into foolish Mortals pride doth puffe;<br/>
+Yet Ruffe’s antiquitie is here but small—<br/>
+Within these eighty Tears not one at all<br/>
+For the 8th Henry, as I understand<br/>
+Was the first King that ever wore a Band<br/>
+And but a Falling Band, plaine with a Hem<br/>
+All other people know no use of them.”<br/>
+<br/>
+—“The Prayse of Clean Linnen,” JOHN TAYLOR, the “Water Poet,” 1640.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>RUFFS AND BANDS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="88" src="images/initialw.jpg" alt="W" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+e have in this poem of the old “Water Poet” a definite statement of the date of
+the introduction of ruffs for English wear. We are afforded in the portraiture
+given in this book ample proof of the fall of the ruff.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="A_Bowdoin_Portrait"></a>
+<img src="images/224.jpg" alt="A Bowdoin Portrait." />
+<p class="caption">A Bowdoin Portrait.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Like many of the most striking fashions of olden times, the ruff was Spanish.
+French gentlemen had worn frills or ruffs about 1540; soon after, these
+appeared in England; by the date of Elizabeth’s accession the ruff had become
+the most imposing article of English men’s and women’s dress. It was worn
+exclusively by fine folk; for it was too frail and too costly for the common
+wear of the common people, though lawn ruffs were seen on many of low degree. A
+ruff such as was worn by a courtier contained eighteen or nineteen yards of
+fine linen lawn. A quarter of a yard wide was the fashionable width in England.
+Ruffs were carefully pleated in triple box-plaits as shown in the Bowdoin
+portrait <a href="#A_Bowdoin_Portrait">here</a>. Then they were bound with a
+firm neck-binding.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This carefully made ruff was starched with good English or Dutch starch; fluted
+with “setting sticks” of wood or bone, to hold each pleat up; then fixed with
+struts—also of wood—placed in a manner to hold the pleats firmly apart; and
+finally “seared” or goffered with “poking sticks” of iron or steel, which, duly
+heated, dried the stiffening starch. To “do up” a formal ruff was a wearisome,
+difficult, and costly precess. Women of skill acquired considerable fortunes as
+“gofferers.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stubbes tells us further of the rich decoration of ruffs with gold, silver, and
+silk lace, with needlework, with openwork, and with purled lace. This was in
+Elizabeth’s day. John Winthrop’s ruff (<a
+href="#Governor_John_Winthrop.">here</a>) is edged with lace; in general a
+plain ruff was worn by plain gentlemen; one may be seen on Martin Frobisher (<a
+href="#A_Doublet.">here</a>). Rich lace was for the court. Their great cost,
+their inconvenience, their artificiality, their size, were sure to make ruffs a
+“reason of offence” to reformers. Stubbes gave voice to their complaints in
+these words:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“They haue great and monstrous ruffes, made either of cambrike, holland, lawne,
+or els of some other the finest cloth that can be got for money, whereof some
+be a quarter of a yarde deepe, yea, some more, very few lesse, so that they
+stande a full quarter of a yearde (and more) from their necks hanging ouer
+their shoulder points in steade of a vaile.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Still more violent does he grow over starch:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The one arch or piller whereby his (the Devil’s) kyngdome of great ruffes is
+vnderpropped, is a certaine kind of liquid matter, whiche they call starch,
+wherein the deuill hath willed them to washe and dive their ruffes well,
+whiche, beeying drie, will then stande stiff and inflexible about their
+necks.<br/>
+<br/>
+“The other piller is a certaine device made of wiers, crested for the purpose;
+whipped over either with gold thred, silver, or silke, and this he calleth a
+supportasse or vnderpropper; this is to bee applied round about their neckes
+under the ruffe, upon the out side of the bande, to beare up the whole frame
+and bodie of the ruffe, from fallying and hangying doune.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Starch was of various colors. We read of “blue-starch-women,” and of what must
+have been especially ugly, “goose-green starch.” Yellow starch was most worn.
+It was introduced from France by the notorious Mrs. Turner. (See <a
+href="#AWomansDoubletMrsAnneTurner">here</a>.)
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Wither wrote thus of the varying modes of dressing the neck:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Some are graced by their Tyres<br/>
+As their Quoyfs, their Hats, their Wyres,<br/>
+One a Ruff cloth best become;<br/>
+Falling bands allureth some;<br/>
+And their favours oft we see<br/>
+Changèd as their dressings be.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The transformation of ruff to band can be seen in the painting of King Charles
+I. The first Van Dyck portrait of him shows him in a moderate ruff turned over
+to lie down like a collar; the lace edge formed itself by the pleats into
+points which developed into the lace points characteristic of Van Dyck’s later
+pictures and called by his name.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Evelyn, describing a medal of King Charles I struck in 1633, says, “The King
+wears a falling band, a new mode which has succeeded the cumbersome ruff; but
+neither do the bishops nor the Judges give it up so soon.” Few of the early
+colonial portraits show ruffs, though the name appears in many inventories, but
+“playne bands” are more frequently named than ruffs. Thus in an Inventory of
+William Swift, Plymouth, 1642, he had “2 Ruff Bands and 4 Playne Bands.” The
+“playne band” of the Puritans is shown in this portrait of William Pyncheon,
+which is dated 1657.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="William_Pyncheon."></a>
+<img src="images/228.jpg" alt="William Pyncheon." />
+<p class="caption">William Pyncheon.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The first change from the full pleated ruff of the sixteenth century came in
+the adoption of a richly laced collar, unpleated, which still stood up behind
+the ears at the back of the head. Often it was wired in place with a
+supportasse. This was worn by both men and women. You may see one <a
+href="#Pocahontas.">here</a>, on the neck of Pocahontas, her portrait painted
+in 1616. This collar, called a standing-band, when turned down was known as a
+falling-band or a rebato.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The rich lace falling-band continued to be worn until the great flowing wig,
+with long, heavy curls, covered the entire shoulders and hid any band; the
+floating ends in front were the only part visible. In time they too vanished.
+Pepys wrote in 1662, “Put on my new lace band and so neat; am resolved my great
+expense shall be lace bands, and it will set off anything else the more.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I scarcely need to point out the falling-band in its various shapes as worn in
+America; they can be found readily in the early pages of this book. It was a
+fashion much discussed and at first much disliked; but the ruff had seen its
+last day—for men’s wear, when the old fellows who had worn it in the early
+years of the seventeenth century dropped off as the century waned. The old
+Bowdoin gentleman must have been one of the last to wear this cumbersome though
+stately adjunct of dress—save as it was displaced on some formal state occasion
+or as part of a uniform or livery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is a constant tendency in all times and among all English-speaking folk
+to shorten names and titles for colloquial purposes; and soon the falling-band
+became the fall. In the <i>Wits’ Recreation</i> are two epigrams which show the
+thought of the times:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“WHY WOMEN WEARE A FALL<br/>
+<br/>
+“A Question ’tis why Women wear a fall?<br/>
+And truth it is to Pride they’re given all.<br/>
+And <i>Pride</i>, the proverb says, <i>will have a fall</i>.”<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+“ON A LITTLE DIMINUTIVE BAND<br/>
+<br/>
+“What is the reason of God-dam-me’s band,<br/>
+Inch deep? and that his fashion doth not alter,<br/>
+God-dam-me saves a labor, understand<br/>
+In pulling it off, where he puts on the Halter.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“God-dam-me” was one of the pleasant epithets which, by scores, were applied to
+the Puritans.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Reverend_Jonathan_Edwards."></a>
+<img src="images/230.jpg" alt="Reverend Jonathan Edwards." />
+<p class="caption">Reverend Jonathan Edwards.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The bands worn by the learned professions, two strips of lawn with squared
+ends, were at first the elongated ends of the shirt collar of Jonathan Edwards.
+We have them still, to remind us of old fashions; and we have another word and
+thing, band-box, which must have been a stern necessity in those days of
+starch, and ruff, and band.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was by no means a convention of dress that “God-dam-me” should wear a small
+band. Neither Cromwell nor his followers clung long to plain bands; nor did
+they all assume them. It would be wholly impossible to generalize or to
+determine the standing of individuals, either in politics or religion, by their
+neckwear. I have before me a little group of prints of men of Cromwell’s day,
+gathered for extra illustration of a history of Cromwell’s time. Let us glance
+at their bands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+First comes Cromwell himself from the Cooper portrait at Cambridge; this
+portrait has a plain linen turnover collar, or band, but two to three inches
+wide. Then his father is shown in a very broad, square, plain linen collar
+extending in front expanse from shoulder seam to shoulder seam. Sir Harry Vane
+and Hampden, both Puritans, have narrow collars like Cromwell’s; Pym, an
+equally precise sectarian, has a broader one like the father’s, but apparently
+of some solid and rich embroidery like cut-work. Edward Hyde, the Earl of
+Clarendon, in narrow band, Lucius Cary, Lord Falkland, in band and
+band-strings, were members of the Long Parliament, but passed in time to the
+Royal Camp. Other portraits of both noblemen are in richly laced bands. The
+Earl of Bristol, who was in the same standing, has the widest of lace, Vandyked
+collars. John Selden wears the plain band; but here is Strafford, the very
+impersonation of all that was hated by Puritans, and yet he wears the simplest
+of puritanical bands. William Lenthal, Speaker of the House of Commons, is in a
+beautiful Cavalier collar with straight lace edges. There are a score more,
+equally indifferent to rule.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is no doubt, however, that the Puritan regarded his plain band—if he wore
+it—with jealous care. Poor Mary Downing, niece of Governor Winthrop, paid
+dearly for her careless “searing,” or ironing, of her brother’s bands. Her
+stepmother’s severity at her offence brought forth this plaintive letter:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Father, I trust that I have not provoked you to harbour soe ill an opinion of
+mee as my mothers lettres do signifie and give me to understand; the ill
+opinion and hard pswasion which shee beares of mee, that is to say, that I
+should abuse yor goodness, and bee prodigall of yor purse, neglectful of my
+brothers bands, and of my slatterishnes and lasines; for my brothers bands I
+will not excuse myselfe, but I thinke not worthy soe sharpe a reproofe; for the
+rest I must needs excuse, and cleare myselfe if I may bee believed. I doe not
+know myselfe guilty of any of them; for myne owne part I doe not desire to be
+myne owne judge, but am willinge to bee judged by them with whom I live, and
+see my course, whether I bee addicted to such things or noe.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Ruffs and bands were not the only neckwear of the colonists. Very soon there
+was a tendency to ornament the band-strings with tassels of silk, with little
+tufts of ribbon, with tiny rosettes, with jewels even; and soon a graceful
+frill of lace hung where the band was tied together. This may be termed the
+beginning of the necktie or cravat; but the article itself enjoyed many names,
+and many forms, which in general extended both to men’s and women’s wear.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Captain_George_Curwen."></a>
+<img src="images/233.jpg" alt="Captain George Curwen." />
+<p class="caption">Captain George Curwen.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Let us turn to the old inventories for the various names of this neckwear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A Maryland gentleman left by will, with other attire, in 1642, “Nine laced
+stripps, two plain stripps, nine quoifes, one call, eight crosse-cloths, a
+paire holland sleeves, a paire women’s cuffs, nine plaine neck-cloths, five
+laced neck-cloths, two plaine gorgetts, seven laced gorgetts, three old clouts,
+five plaine neckhandkerchiefs, two plain shadowes.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+John Taylor, the “Water Poet,” wrote a poem entitled The Needles Excellency. I
+quote from the twelfth edition, dated 1640. In the list of garments which we
+owe to the needle he names:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Shadows, Shapparoones, Cauls, Bands, Ruffs, Kuffs,<br/>
+Kerchiefs, Quoyfes, Chin-clouts, Marry-muffes,<br/>
+Cross-cloths, Aprons, Hand-kerchiefs, or Falls.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His list runs like that of the Maryland planter. The strip was something like
+the whisk; indeed, the names seem interchangeable. Bishop Hall in his
+<i>Satires</i> writes:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“When a plum’d fan may hide thy chalked face<br/>
+And lawny strips thy naked bosom grace.”
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Dr. Smith wrote in 1658 in <i>Penelope and Ulysses</i>:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“A stomacher upon her breast so bare<br/>
+For strips and gorget were not then the wear.”
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+The gorget was the frill in front; the strip the lace cape or whisk. It will be
+noted that nine gorgets are named with these strips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The gorget when worn by women was enriched with lace and needlework.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“These Holland smocks as white as snow<br/>
+And gorgets brave with drawn-work wrought<br/>
+A tempting ware they are you know.”
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Thus runs a poem published in 1596.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mary Verney writes in 1642 her desire for “gorgetts and eyther cutt or painted
+callico to wear under them or what is most in fashion.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The shadow has been a great stumbling-block to antiquaries. Purchas’s
+<i>Pilgrimage</i> is responsible for what is to me a very confusing reference.
+It says of a certain savage race:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“They have a skin of leather hanging about their necks whenever they sit
+bare-headed and bare-footed, with their right arms bare; and a broad Sombrero
+or Shadow in their hands to defend them in Summer from the Sunne, in Winter
+from the Rain.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This would make a shadow a sort of hand-screen or sunshade; but all other
+references seem as if a shadow were a cap. As early as 1580, Richard Fenner’s
+Wardship Roll has “Item a Caul and Shadoe 4 shillings.” I think a shadow was a
+great cap like a cornet. Cross-cloths were a form of head-dress. I have seen
+old portraits with a cap or head-dress formed of crossed bands which I have
+supposed were cross-cloths.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cross-cloths also bore a double meaning; for certainly neck-cloths or
+neckerchiefs were sometimes called cross-cloths or cross-clothes. Another name
+is the picardill or piccadilly, a French title for a gorget. Fitzgerald, in
+1617, wrote of “a spruse coxcomb” that he glanced at his pocket looking-glass
+to see:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“How his Band jumpeth with his Peccadilly<br/>
+Whether his Band-strings ballance equally.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another satirical author could write in 1638 that “pickadillies are now out of
+request.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The portrait of Captain Curwen of Salem (<a
+href="#Captain_George_Curwen.">here</a>) is unlike many of his times. Over his
+doublet he wears a handsome embroidered shoulder sash called a trooping-scarf;
+and his broad lace tie is very unusual for the year 1660. I know few like it
+upon American gentlemen in portraits; and I fancy it is a gorget, or a
+piccadilly. It is pleasant to know that this handsome piece of lace has been
+preserved. It is here shown with his cane.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Lace_Gorget_and_Cane"></a>
+<img src="images/236.jpg" alt="Lace Gorget and Cane of Captain George Curwen."
+/>
+<p class="caption">Lace Gorget and Cane of Captain George Curwen.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+A little negative proof may be given as to one word and article. The gorget is
+said to be an adaptation of the wimple. Our writers of historical tales are
+very fond of attiring their heroines in wimples and kirtles. Both have a
+picturesque, an antique, sound—the wimple is Biblical and Shakesperian, and
+therefore ever satisfying to the ear, and to the sight in manuscript. But I
+have never seen the word wimple in an inventory, list, invoice, letter, or book
+of colonial times, and but once the word kirtle. Likewise are these modern
+authors a bit vague as to the manner of garment a wimple is. One fair maid is
+described as having her fair form wrapped in a warm wimple. She might as well
+be described as wrapped in a warm cravat. For a wimple was simply a small
+kerchief or covering for the neck, worn in the thirteenth and fourteenth
+centuries.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another quaint term, already obsolete when the <i>Mayflower</i> sailed, was
+partlet. A partlet was an inner kerchief, worn with an open-necked bodice or
+doublet. Its trim plaited edge or ruffle seems to have given rise to the
+popular name, “Dame Partlet,” for a hen. It appeared in the reign of Henry
+VIII; the courtiers imitating the king threw open their garments at the throat,
+and further opened them with slashes; hence the use of the partlet, which was a
+trim form of underhabit or gorget, worn well up to the throat. An old
+dictionary explains that the partlet can be “set on or taken off by itself
+without taking off the bodice, as can be pickadillies now-a-days, or men’s
+bands.” It adds that women’s neckerchiefs have been called partlets.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In October, 1662, Samuel Pepys wrote in his <i>Diary</i>, “Made myself fine
+with Captain Ferrers lace band; being loathe to wear my own new scallop; it is
+so fine.” This is one of his several references to this new fashion of band
+which both he and his wife adopted. He paid &pound;;3 for his scallop, and 45s.
+for one for his wife. He was so satisfied with his elegance in this new
+scallop, that like many another lover of dress he determined his chief
+extravagance should be for lace. The fashion of scallop-wearing came to
+America. For several years the word was used in inventories, then it became as
+obsolete as a caul, a shadow, a cornet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word “cravat” is not very ancient. Its derivation is said to be from the
+Cravates or Croats in the French military service, who adopted such neckwear in
+1636. An early use of the word is by Blount in 1656, who called a cravat “a new
+fashioned Gorget which Women wear.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The cravat is a distinct companion of the wig, and was worn whenever and
+wherever wigs were donned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Evelyn gave the year 1666 as the one when vest, cravat, garters, and buckles
+came to be the fashion. We could add likewise wigs. Of course all these had
+been known before that year, but had not been general wear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An early example of a cravat is shown in the portrait of old William Stoughton
+in my later chapter on Cloaks. His cravat is a distinctly new mode of
+neck-dressing, but is found on all American portraits shortly after that date.
+One is shown with great exactness in the portrait <a
+href="#Governor_Coddington.">here</a>, which is asserted to be that of “the
+handsomest man in the Plantations,” William Coddington, Governor of Rhode
+Island and Providence Plantations.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_Coddington."></a>
+<img src="images/239.jpg" alt="Governor Coddington." />
+<p class="caption">Governor Coddington.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+He was a precise man, and wearisome in his precision—a bore, even, I fear. His
+beauty went for little in his relation of man to man, and, above all, of
+colonist to colonist; and poor Governor Winthrop must have been sorely
+tormented with his frequent letters, which might have been written from Mars
+for all the signs they bore of news of things of this earth. His dress is very
+neat and rich—a characteristic dress, I think. It has slightly wrought
+buttonholes, plain sleeve ruffles and gloves. His full curled peruke has a mass
+of long curls hanging in front of the right shoulder, while the curls on the
+left side are six or eight inches shorter. This was the most elegant London
+fashion, and extreme fashion too. His neck-scarf or cravat was a characteristic
+one. It consisted of a long scarf of soft, fine, sheer, white linen over two
+yards long, passed twice or thrice close around the throat and simply lapped
+under the chin, not knotted. The upper end hung from twelve to sixteen inches
+long. The other and longer end was carried down to a low waistline and tucked
+in between the buttons of the waistcoat. Often the free end of this scarf was
+trimmed with lace or cut-work; indeed, the whole scarf might be of embroidery
+or lace, but the simpler lawn or mull appears to have been in better taste.
+This tie is seen in this portrait of Thomas Fayerweather, by Smybert, and in
+modified forms on many other pages.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Thomas_Fayerweather."></a>
+<img src="images/240.jpg" alt="Thomas Fayerweather." />
+<p class="caption">Thomas Fayerweather.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+We now find constant references to the Steinkirk, a new cravat. As we see it
+frequently stated that the Steinkirk was a black tie, I may state here that all
+the Steinkirks I have seen have been white. I know no portraits with black
+neck-cloths. I find no allusions in old-time literature or letters to black
+Steinkirks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A Steinkirk was a white cravat, not knotted, but fastened so loosely as to seem
+folded rather than tied, twisted sometimes twice or thrice, with one or both
+ends passed through a buttonhole of the coat. Ladies wore them, as well as men,
+arranged with equal appearance of careless negligence; and the soft diagonal
+folds of linen and lace made a pretty finish at the throat, as pretty as any
+high neck-dressing could be. These cravats were called Steinkirks after the
+battle of Steinkirk, when some of the French princes, not having time to
+perform an elaborate toilet before going into action, hurriedly twisted their
+lace cravats about their necks and pulled them through a buttonhole, simply to
+fix them safely in place. The fashionable world eagerly followed their example.
+It is curious that the Steinkirk should have been popular in England, where the
+name might rather have been a bitter avoidance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The battle of Steinkirk took place in 1694. An early English allusion to the
+neckwear thus named is in <i>The Relapse</i>, which was acted in 1697. In it
+the Semstress says, “I hope your Lordship is pleased with your Steenkirk.” His
+Lordship answers with eloquence, “In love with it, stap my vitals! Bring your
+bill, you shall be paid tomorrow!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Steinkirk, both for men’s and women’s wear, came to America very promptly,
+and was soon widely worn. The dashing, handsome figure of young King Carter
+gives an illustration of the pretty studied negligence of the Steinkirk. I have
+seen a Steinkirk tie on at least twenty portraits of American gentlemen,
+magistrates, and officers; some of them were the royal governors, but many were
+American born and bred, who never visited Europe, but turned eagerly to English
+fashions.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="KingCarterinYouthbySirGodfreyKneller"></a>
+<img src="images/242.jpg" alt="“King” Carter in Youth, by Sir Godfrey Kneller."
+/>
+<p class="caption">“King” Carter in Youth, by Sir Godfrey Kneller.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Certain old families have preserved among their ancient treasures a very long
+oval brooch with a bar across it from end to end—the longest way of the brooch.
+These are set sometimes with topaz or moonstone, garnet, marcasite,
+heliotropium, or paste jewels. Many wonder for what purpose these were used.
+They were to hold the lace Steinkirk in place, when it was not pulled through
+the buttonhole. The bar made it seem like a tongueless buckle—or perhaps it was
+like a long, narrow buckle to which a brooch pin had been affixed to keep it
+firmly in place.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The cravat, tied and twisted in Steinkirk form, or more simply folded, long
+held its place in fashionable dress.
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“The stock with buckle made of paste<br/>
+Has put the cravat out of date,”
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+wrote Whyte in 1742.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With this quotation we will turn from neckwear until a later period.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“So many poynted cappes<br/>
+Lased with double flaps<br/>
+And soe gay felted cappes<br/>
+  Saw I never.<br/>
+<br/>
+“So propre cappes<br/>
+So lyttle hattes<br/>
+And so false hartes<br/>
+Saw I never.”<br/>
+</i> <br/>
+—“The Maner of the World Nowe-a-dayes,” JOHN SKELTON, 1548.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+“<i>The Turk in linen wraps his head<br/>
+  The Persian his in lawn, too,<br/>
+The Russ with sables furs his cap<br/>
+  And change will not be drawn to.<br/>
+<br/>
+“The Spaniard’s constant to his block<br/>
+  The Frenchman inconstant ever;<br/>
+But of all felts that may be felt<br/>
+  Give me the English beaver.<br/>
+<br/>
+“The German loves his coney-wool<br/>
+  The Irishman his shag, too,<br/>
+The Welsh his Monmouth loves to wear<br/>
+  And of the same will brag, too”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“A Challenge for Beauty,” THOMAS HAYWARD
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="88" src="images/initiala.jpg" alt="A" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+ny student of English history and letters would know that caps would positively
+be part of the outfit of every emigrating Englishman. A cap was, for centuries,
+both the enforced and desired headwear of English folk of quiet lives.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="City_Flat-cap"></a>
+<img src="images/245.jpg" alt="City Flat-cap worn by “Bilious” Bale." />
+<p class="caption">City Flat-cap worn by “Bilious” Bale.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Belgic Britons, Welshmen, Irish, Anglo-Saxons, Danes, and Normans all had worn
+caps, as well as ancient Greeks and Romans. These English caps had been of
+divers colors and manifold forms, some being grotesque indeed. When we reach
+the reign of Henry VIII we are made familiar in the paintings of Holbein with a
+certain flat-cap which sometimes had a small jewel or leather or a double fold,
+but never varied greatly. This was known as the city flat-cap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is shown also in the Holbein portrait of Adam Winthrop, grandfather of
+Governor John Winthrop; he was a man of dignity, Master of the Cloth Workers’
+Guild.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The muffin-cap of the boys of Christ’s Hospital is a form of this cap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was at first and ever a Londoner’s cap. A poet wrote in 1630:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Flat caps as proper are to city gowns<br/>
+As to armour, helmets, or to kings, their crowns.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Winthrop also wears the city gown.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This flat-cap was often of gay colors, scarlet being a favorite hue.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Behold the bonnet upon my head<br/>
+A staryng colour of scarlet red<br/>
+I promise you a fyne thred<br/>
+   And a soft wool<br/>
+   It cost a noble.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+These lines were written for the character “Pride,” in the <i>Interlude of
+Nature</i>, before the year 1500.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A statute was passed in 1571, “If any person above six years of age (except
+maidens, ladies, gentlemen, nobles, knights, gentlemen of twenty marks by year
+in lands, and their heirs, and such as have born office of worship) have not
+worn upon the Sunday or holyday (except it be in the time of his travell out of
+the city, town or hamlet where he dwelleth) one cap of wool, knit, thicked and
+dressed in England, and only dressed and furnished by some of the trade of
+cappers, shall be fined &pound;;3 4d. for each day’s transgression.” The caps
+thus worn were called Statute caps.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was, of course, to encourage wool-workers in the pride of the nation.
+Winthrop, master of a guild whose existence depended on wool, would, of course,
+wear a woollen cap had he not been a Londoner. It was a plain head-covering,
+but it was also the one worn by King Edward VI.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a formal coif or cap worn by men of dignity; always worn, I think, by
+judges and elderly lawyers, ere the assumption of the formal wig. This coif may
+be seen on the head of the venerable Dr. Dee, and also on the head of Lord
+Burleigh, and of Thomas Cecil, surmounted with the citizen’s flat-cap. One of
+these caps in heavy black lustring lingered by chance in my home—worn by some
+forgotten ancestor. It had a curious loop, as may be seen on Dr. Dee. This was
+not a narrow string for tying the coif on the head; it was a loop. And if there
+was any need of fastening the cap on the head, a narrow ribbon or ferret, a
+lacing, was put through both loops.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the inventory of the apparel of the first settlers which I have given in the
+early pages of this book, we find that each colonist to the Massachusetts Bay
+settlement had one Monmouth cap and five red milled caps. All the lists of
+necessary clothing for the planters have as an item, caps; but a well-made,
+well-lined hat was also supplied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Monmouth caps were in general wear in England. Thomas Fuller said, “Caps were
+the most ancient, general, warm, and profitable coverings of men’s heads in
+this Island.” In making them thousands of people were employed, especially
+before the invention of fulling-mills, when caps were wrought, beaten, and
+thickened by the hands and feet of men. Cap-making afforded occupation to
+fifteen different callings: carders, spinners, knitters, parters of wool,
+forcers, thickers, dressers, walkers, dyers, battellers, shearers, pressers,
+edgers, liners, and band-makers.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="King_James_I_of_England."></a>
+<img src="images/248.jpg" alt="King James I of England." />
+<p class="caption">King James I of England.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The Monmouth caps were worth two shillings each, which were furnished to the
+Massachusetts colonists. These were much affected by seafaring men. We read, in
+<i>A Satyr on Sea Officers</i>, “With Monmouth cap and cutlass at my side,
+striding at least a yard at every stride.” “The Ballad of the Caps,” 1656,
+gives a wonderful list of caps. Among them are:
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+The Monmouth Cap, the Saylors thrum,<br/>
+And that wherein the tradesmen come,<br/>
+The Physick, Lawe, the Cap divine,<br/>
+And that which crowns the Muses nine,<br/>
+The Cap that Fools do countenance,<br/>
+The goodly Cap of Maintenance,<br/>
+And any Cap what e’re it be,<br/>
+Is still the sign of some degree.<br/>
+<br/>
+“The sickly Cap both plaine and wrought,<br/>
+The Fuddling-cap however bought,<br/>
+The quilted, furred, the velvet, satin,<br/>
+For which so many pates learn Latin,<br/>
+The Crewel Cap, the Fustian pate,<br/>
+The Perriwig, the Cap of Late,<br/>
+And any Cap what e’er it be<br/>
+Is still the sign of some degree.”<br/>
+<br/>
+—“Ballad of the Caps,” 1656.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+We seldom have in manuscript or print, in America, titles or names given to
+caps or hats, but one occasionally seen is the term “montero-cap,” spelled also
+mountero, montiro, montearo; and Washington Irving tells of “the cedar bird
+with a little mon-teiro-cap of feathers.” Montero-caps were frequently
+recommended to emigrants, and useful dress they were, being a horseman’s or
+huntsman’s cap with a simple round crown, and a flap which went around the
+sides and back of the cap and which could be worn turned up or brought down
+over the back of the neck, the ears and temples, thus making a most protecting
+head-covering. They were, in general, dark colored, of substantial woollen
+stuff, but Sterne writes in Tristram Shandy of a montero-cap which he describes
+as of superfine Spanish cloth, dyed scarlet in the grain, mounted all round
+with fur, except four inches in front, which was faced with light blue lightly
+embroidered. It is a montero-cap which is seen on the head of Bamfylde Moore
+Carew, the “King of the Mumpers,” a most genial English rogue, sneak-thief, and
+cheat of the eighteenth century, who spent some of his ill-filled years in the
+American colonies, whither he was brought after being trepanned, and where he
+had to bear the ignominy of wearing an iron collar welded around his neck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A montero-cap seems to have been the favorite dress of rogues. In Head’s
+<i>English Rogue</i> we read, “Beware of him that rides in a montero-cap and of
+him that whispers oft.” The picaro Guzman wore one; and as montero is the
+Spanish word for huntsman, Head may have obtained the word from that special
+scamp, Guzman, whose life was published in 1633. It is a very ancient name,
+being given in Cotgrave as a hood, or as the horseman’s helmet. It is worn
+still by Arctic travellers and Alpine climbers. Sets of knitted montero-caps
+were presented by the Empress Eugenie to the Arctic expedition of 1875, and the
+Jackies dubbed them “Eugenie Wigs.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another and widely different class of men wore likewise the montero-cap, the
+English and American Quakers. Thomas Ellwood, in the early days of his Quaker
+belief, suffered much for his hat, both from his fellow Quakers and his father,
+a Church of England man. The Quakers thought his “large Mountier cap of black
+velvet, the skirt of which being turned up in Folds looked somewhat above the
+common Garb of a Quaker.” A young priest at another time snatched this
+montero-cap off because he wore it in the presence of magistrates, and then
+Ellwood’s father fell upon it in this wise:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“He could not contain himself but running upon me with both hands, first
+violently snatcht off my Hat and threw it away and then giving me some buffets
+in the head said Sirrah get you up to your chamber. I had now lost one hat and
+had but one more. The next Time my Father saw it on my head he tore it
+violently from me and laid it up with the other, I know not where. Wherefore I
+put my Mountier Cap which was all I had left to wear on my head, and but a
+little while I had that, for when my Father came where I was, I lost that
+also.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="FulkeGrevilleLordBrooke"></a>
+<img src="images/251.jpg" alt="Fulke Greville (Lord Brooke)." />
+<p class="caption">Fulke Greville (Lord Brooke).
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Finally the father refused to let him wear his “Hive,” as he called the hat, at
+the table while eating, and thereafter Ellwood ate with his father’s servants.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The vogue of beaver hats was an important factor in the settlement of America.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The first Spanish, Dutch, English, and French colonists all came to America to
+seek for gold and furs. The Spaniards found gold, the Dutch and French found
+furs, but the English who found fish found the greatest wealth of all, for food
+is ever more than raiment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of the furs the most important and most valuable was beaver. The English sent
+some beaver back to Europe; the very first ship to return from Plymouth carried
+back two hogsheads. Winslow sent twenty hogsheads as early as 1634, and
+Bradford shows that the trade was deemed important. But the wild creatures
+speedily retreated. Johnson declares that as early as 1645 the beaver trade had
+left the frontier post of Springfield, on the Connecticut River.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the earliest days both the French and English crown had treated the
+fishing and fur industries with unusual discretion, giving a monopoly to the
+fur trade and leaving the fisheries free, so the latter constantly increased,
+while in New England the fur trade passed over to the Dutch, distinctly to the
+advantage of the English, for the lazy trader at a post was neither a good
+savage nor a good citizen, while the hardy fishermen and bold sailors of New
+England brought wealth to every town. For some years the Dutch appeared to have
+the best of it, for they received ten to fifteen thousand beaver skins annually
+from New England; and they had trading-posts on Narragansett and Buzzards Bay.
+Still the trade drew the Dutch away from agriculture, and the real success of
+New Netherland did not come with furs, but with corn.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="JamesDouglasEarlofMorton"></a>
+<img src="images/253.jpg" alt="James Douglas (Earl of Morton)." />
+<p class="caption">James Douglas (Earl of Morton).
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The fur trade was certainly an interesting factor in the growth of the Dutch
+settlement. Fort Orange, or Albany, called the <i>Fuyck</i>, was the natural
+topographical <i>fuyck</i> or trap-net to catch this trade, and in the very
+first season of its settlement fifteen hundred beaver and five hundred otter
+skins were despatched to Holland. In 1657 Johannes Dyckman asserted that 40,900
+beaver and otter skins were sent that year from Fort Orange to Fort Amsterdam
+(New York City). As these skins were valued at from eight to ten guilders
+apiece (about $3.50 and with a purchasing value equal to $20 to-day), it can
+readily be seen what a source of wealth seemed opened. The authorities at Fort
+Orange, the patroons of Renssalaerwyck and Beverwyck, were not to be permitted
+to absorb all this wondrous gain in undisturbed peace. The increment of the
+India Company was diverted and hindered in various ways. Unscrupulous and
+crafty citizens of Fort Orange (independent <i>handaelers</i> or handlers) and
+their thrifty, penny-turning <i>vrouws</i> decoyed the Indian trappers and
+hunters into their peaceful, honest kitchens under pretence of kindly Christian
+welcome to the peltry-bearing braves; and they filled the guileless savages
+with Dutch schnapps, or Barbadoes “kill-devil,” until the befuddled or
+half-crazed Indians parted with their precious stores of hard-trapped skins and
+threw off their well-perspired and greased beaver coats and exchanged them for
+such valuable Dutch wares as knives, scissors, beads, and jews’-harps, or even
+a few pints of quickly vanishing rum, instead of solid Dutch guilders or
+substantial Dutch blankets. And even before these strategic Dutch citizens
+could corral and fleece them, the incoming fur-bearers had to run as
+insinuating a gantlet of <i>boschloopers</i>, bush-runners, drummers, or
+“broakers,” who sallied out on the narrow Indian paths to buy the coveted furs
+even before they were brought into Fort Orange. Much legislation ensued.
+Scout-buying was prohibited. Citizens were forbidden “to addresse to speak to
+the wilden of trading,” or to entice them to “traffique,” or to harbor them
+over night. Indian houses to lodge the trappers were built just outside the
+gate, where the dickering would be public. These were built by rates collected
+from all “Christian dealers” in furs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Indian paths were many, and the water-ways were unpatrolled, and kitchen
+doors could be slyly opened in the dusk; so the government, in spite of laws
+and shelter-houses, did not get all the beaver skins. Too many were eager for
+the lucrative and irregular trade; agricultural pursuits were alarmingly
+neglected; other communities became rivals, and the beavers soon were
+exterminated from the valley of the Hudson, and by 1660 the Fort Orange trade
+was sadly diminished. The governor of Canada had an itching palm, and lured the
+Indians—and beaver skins—to Montreal. Thus “impaired by French wiles,” scarce
+nine thousand peltries came in 1687 to Fort Orange. With a few fluttering
+rallies until Revolutionary times the fur trade of Albany became extinct; it
+passed from both Dutch and French, and was dominated by the Hudson Bay Fur
+Company.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So clear a description of the fur of the beaver and the use of the pelt was
+given by Adriaen van der Donck, who lived at Fort Orange from the year 1641 to
+1646, and traded for years with the Indians, that it is well to give his exact
+words:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The beaver’s skin is rough but thickly set with fine fur of an ash-gray color
+inclining to blue. The outward points also incline to a russet or brown color.
+From the fur of the beaver the best hats are made that are worn. They are
+called beavers or castoreums from the material of which they are made, and they
+are known by this name over all Europe. Outside of the coat of fur many shining
+hairs appear called wind-hairs, which are more properly winter-hairs, for they
+fall out in summer and appear again in winter. The outer coat is of a
+chestnut-brown color, the browner the color the better is the fur. Sometimes it
+will be a little reddish.<br/>
+<br/>
+“When hats are made of the fur, the rough hairs are pulled out for they are
+useless. The skins are usually first sent to Russia, where they are highly
+valued for their outside shining hair, and on this their greatest
+recommendation depends with the Russians. The skins are used there for
+mantle-linings and are also cut into strips for borders, as we cut
+rabbit-skins. Therefore we call the same peltries. Whoever has there the most
+and costliest fur-trimmings is deemed a person of very high rank, as with us
+the finest stuffs and gold and silver embroideries are regarded as the
+appendages of the great. After the hairs have fallen out, or are worn, and the
+peltries become old and dirty and apparently useless, we get the article back,
+and convert the fur into hats, before which it cannot be well used for this
+purpose, for unless the beaver has been worn, and is greasy and dirty, it will
+not felt properly, hence these old peltries are the most valuable. The coats
+which the Indians make of beaver-skins and which they have worn for a long time
+around their bodies until the skins have become foul with perspiration and
+grease are afterwards used by the hatters and make the best hats.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+One notion about beaver must be told. Its great popularity for many years
+arose, it is conjectured, from its original use as a cap for curative purposes.
+Such a beaver cap would “unfeignedly” recover to a man his hearing, and
+stimulate his memory to a wonder, especially if the “oil of castor” was rubbed
+in his hair.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Elihu_Yale."></a>
+<img src="images/257.jpg" alt="Elihu Yale." />
+<p class="caption">Elihu Yale.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The beaver hat was for centuries a choice and costly article of dress; it went
+through many bizarre forms. On the head of Henry IV of France and Navarre, as
+made known in his portrait, is a hat which effectually destroys all possibility
+of dignity. It is a bell-crowned stove-pipe, of the precise shape worn later by
+coachmen and by dandies about the years 1820 to 1830. It is worn very much over
+one royal ear, like the hat of a well-set-up, self-important coachman of the
+palmy days of English coaching, and gives an air of absurd modernity and
+cockney importance to the picture of a king of great dignity. The hat worn by
+James I, ere he was King of England, is shown <a
+href="#King_James_I_of_England.">here</a>. It is funnier than any seen for
+years in a comic opera. The hat worn by Francis Bacon is a plain felt, greatly
+in contrast with his rich laced triple ruff and cuffs and embroidered garments.
+That of Thomas Cecil <a href="#Thomas_Cecil">here</a> varies slightly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two very singular shapings of the plain hat may be seen, one <a
+href="#FulkeGrevilleLordBrooke">here</a> on the head of Fulke Greville, where
+the round-topped, high crown is most disproportionate to the narrow brim. The
+second, <a href="#JamesDouglasEarlofMorton">here</a>, shows an extreme
+sugar-loaf, almost a pointed crown.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A good hat was very expensive, and important enough to be left among bequests
+in a will. They were borrowed and hired for many years, and even down to the
+time of Queen Anne we find the rent of a <i>subscription hat</i> to be
+&pound;;2 6s. per annum! The hiring out of a hat does not seem strange when
+hiring out clothes was a regular business with tailors. The wife of a person of
+low estate hired a gown of Queen Elizabeth’s to be married in. Tailor Thomas
+Gylles complained of the Yeoman of the queen’s wardrobe for suffering this. He
+writes, “The copper cloth of gold gowns which were made last, and another, were
+sent into the country for the marriage of Lord Montague.” The bequest of
+half-worn garments was highly regarded. On the very day of Darnley’s funeral,
+Mary Queen of Scots gave his clothes to Bothwell, who sent them to his tailor
+to be refitted. The tailor, bold with the riot and disorder of the time,
+returned them with the impudent message that “the duds of dead men were given
+to the hangman.” The duds of men who were hanged were given to the hangman
+almost as long as hangings took place. A poor New England girl, hanged for the
+murder of her child, went to the scaffold in her meanest attire, and taunted
+the executioner that he would get but a poor suit of clothes from her. The last
+woman hanged in Massachusetts wore a white satin gown, which I expect the
+sheriff’s daughter much revelled in the following winter at dancing-parties.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Thomas_Cecil"></a>
+<img src="images/259.jpg" alt="Thomas Cecil." />
+<p class="caption">Thomas Cecil.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Old Philip Stubbes has given us a wonderful description of English head-gear:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“HATS OF SUNDRIE FATIONS”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Sometymes they vse them sharpe on the Croune, pearking vp like the Spire, or
+Shaft of a Steeple, standyng a quarter of a yarde aboue the Croune of their
+heades, somemore, some lesse, as please the phantasies of their inconstant
+mindes. Othersome be flat and broad on the Crowne, like the battlemetes of a
+house. An other sorte haue rounde Crownes, sometymes with one kinde of Band,
+sometymes with another, now black, now white, now russet, now red, now grene,
+now yellowe, now this, now that, never content with one colour or fashion two
+daies to an ende. And thus in vanitie they spend the Lorde his treasure,
+consuming their golden yeres and siluer daies in wickednesse and sinne. And as
+the fashions bee rare and strange, so is the stuffe whereof their hattes be
+made divers also; for some are of Silke, some of Veluet, some of Taffatie, some
+of Sarcenet, some of Wooll, and, whiche is more curious, some of a certaine
+kinde of fine Haire; these they call Bever hattes, or xx. xxx. or xl.
+shillinges price, fetched from beyonde the seas, from whence a greate sorte of
+other vanities doe come besides. And so common a thing it is, that euery
+seruyngman, countrieman, and other, euen all indefferently, dooe weare of these
+hattes. For he is of no account or estimation amongst men if he haue not a
+Veluet or Taffatie hatte, and that must be Pincked, and Cunnyngly Carved of the
+beste fashion. And good profitable hattes be 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 sprong vp amongst them, which they father vpon a
+Frenchman, namely, to weare them with bandes, but how vnsemely (I will not saie
+how hassie) a fashion that is let the wise judge; notwithstanding, howeuer it
+be, if it please them, it shall not displease me.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“And another sort (as phantasticall as the rest) are content with no kinde of
+hat without a greate Bunche of Feathers of diuers and sondrie Colours, peakyng
+on top of their heades, not vnlike (I dare not saie) Cockescombes, but as
+sternes of pride, and ensignes of vanity. And yet, notwithstanding these
+Flutterying Sailes, and Feathered Flagges of defiaunce of Vertue (for so they
+be) are so advanced that euery child hath them in his Hat or Cap; many get good
+liuing by dying and selling of them, and not a few proue the selues more than
+Fooles in wearyng of them.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Notwithstanding this list of Stubbes, it is very curious to note that in
+general the shape of the real beaver hat remained the same as long as it was
+worn uncocked.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Cornelius_Steinwyck."></a>
+<img src="images/261.jpg" alt="Cornelius Steinwyck." />
+<p class="caption">Cornelius Steinwyck.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The hat was worn much more constantly within-doors than in the present day.
+Pepys states that they were worn in church; even the preacher wore his hat.
+Hats were removed in the presence of royalty. An hereditary honor and privilege
+granted to one of my ancestors was that he might wear his hat before the king.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is somewhat difficult to find out the exact date when the wearing of hats by
+men within-doors ceased to be fashionable and became distinctly low bred. We
+can turn to contemporary art. In 1707 at a grand banquet given in France to the
+Spanish Embassy, a ceremonious state affair with the women in magnificent
+full-dress, the men seated at the table and in the presence of royalty wore
+their cocked hats—so much for courtly France.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This wearing of the hat in church, at table, and elsewhere that seems now
+strange to us, was largely as an emblem of dignity and authority. Miss Moore in
+the <i>Caldwell Papers</i> writes of her grandfather:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I’ my grandfather’s time, as I have heard him tell, ilka maister of a family
+had his ain seat in his ain house; aye, and sat there with his hat on, afore
+the best in the land; and had his ain dish, and was aye helpit first and keepit
+up his authority as a man should so. Parents were parents then; and bairns
+dared not set up their gabs afore them as they do now.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+That the covering of the head in church still has a significance on important
+occasions, is shown by a rubric from the “Form and Order” for the Coronation of
+King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra; this provides that the king remains
+uncovered during the saying of the Litany and the beginning of the Communion
+Service, but when the sermon begun that he should put on his “Cap of crimson
+velvet turned up with Ermine, and so continue,” to the end of the discourse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hatbands were just as important for men’s hats as women’s—especially during the
+years of the reign of James I. Endymion Porter had his wife’s diamond necklace
+to wear on his hat in Spain. It probably looked like paste beside the
+gorgeousness of the Duke of Buckingham, who had “the Mirror of France,” a great
+diamond, the finest in England, “to wear alone in your hat with a little blacke
+feather,” so the king wrote him. A more curious hat ornament was a glove.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Hat_with_a_Glove_as_a_Favor."></a>
+<img src="images/263.jpg" alt="Hat with a Glove as a Favor." />
+<p class="caption">Hat with a Glove as a Favor.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+This handsome hat is from a portrait of George, Earl of Cumberland. It has a
+woman’s glove as a favor. This is said to have been a gift of Queen Elizabeth
+after his prowess in a tournament. He always wore this glove on state
+occasions. Gloves were worn on a hat in three meanings: as a memorial of a dead
+friend, as a favor of a mistress, or as a mark of challenge. A pretty laced or
+tasselled handkerchief was also a favor and was worn like a cockade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An excellent representation of the Cavalier hat may be seen on the figure of
+Oliver Cromwell <a href="#Cromwell_dissolving_Parliament.">(here</a>), which
+shows him dismissing Parliament. Cornelius Steinwyck’s flat-leafed hat has no
+feather.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The steeple-crowned hat of both men and women was in vogue in the second half
+of the seventeenth century in both England and America, at the time when the
+witchcraft tragedies came to a culmination. The long scarlet cloak was worn at
+the same date. It is evident that the conventional witch of to-day, an old
+woman in scarlet cloak and steeple-crowned hat, is a relic of that day. Through
+the striking circumstances and the striking dress was struck off a figurative
+type which is for all time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+William Kempe of “Duxburrow” in 1641 left hats, hat-boxes, rich hatbands, bone
+laces, leather hat-cases; also ten “capps.” Hats were also made of cloth. In
+the tailor’s bill of work done for Jonathan Corwin of Salem, in 1679, we read
+“To making a Broadcloth Hatt 14s. To making 2 hatts &amp;; 2 jackets for your
+two sonnes 19s.” In 1672 an association of Massachusetts hatters asked
+privileges and protection from the colonial government to aid and encourage
+American manufacture, but they were refused until they made better hats.
+Shortly after, however, the exportation of raccoon fur to England was
+forbidden, or taxed, as it was found to be useful in the home manufacture of
+hats.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The eighteenth century saw many and varied forms of the cocked hat; the
+nineteenth returned to a straight crown and brim. The description of these will
+be given in the due course of the narrative of this book.
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 35%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE VENERABLE HOOD</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Paul saith, that a woman ought to have a Power on her head. This Power that
+some of them have is disguised gear and strange fashions. They must wear French
+Hoods—and I cannot tell you—I—what to call it. And when they make them ready
+and come to the Covering of their Head they will say, ‘Give me my French Hood,
+and Give me my Bonnet or my Cap.’ Now here is a Vengeance-Devil; we must have
+our Power from Turkey of Velvet, and gay it must be; far-fetched and
+dear-bought; and when it cometh it is a False Sign.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—Sermon, ARCHBISHOP LATIMER, 1549.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“Hoods are the most ancient covering for the head and far more elegant and
+useful than the more modern fashion of hats, which present a useless elevation,
+and leave the neck and ears completely exposed.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Glossary of Ecclesiastical Ornament and Costume,” PUGIN, 1868.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE VENERABLE HOOD</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="88" src="images/initialw.jpg" alt="W" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+e are told by the great Viollet le Duc that the faces of fifteenth-century
+women were of a uniform type. Certainly a uniform head-dress tends to establish
+a seeming resemblance of the wearers; the strange, steeple head-dress of that
+century might well have that effect; and the “French hood” worn so many years
+by English, French, and American women has somewhat the same effect on women’s
+countenances; it gives a uniformity of severity. It is difficult for a face to
+be pretty and gay under this gloomy hood. This French hood is plainly a
+development of the head-rail, which was simply an unshaped oblong strip of
+linen or stuff thrown over the head, and with the ends twisted lightly round
+the neck or tied loosely under the chin with whatever grace or elegance the
+individual wearer possessed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Varying slightly from reign to reign, yet never greatly changed, this sombre
+plain French hood was worn literally for centuries. It was deemed so grave and
+dignified a head-covering that, in the reign of Edward III, women of ill
+carriage were forbidden the wearing of it.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Gulielma_Penn."></a>
+<img src="images/267.jpg" alt="Gulielma Penn." />
+<p class="caption">Gulielma Penn.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the year 1472 “Raye Hoods,” that is, striped hoods, were enjoined in several
+English towns as the distinctive wear of women of ill character. And in France
+this black hood was under restriction; only ladies of the French court were
+permitted to wear velvet hoods, and only women of station and dignity, black
+hoods.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This black hood was dignified in allegorical literature as “the venerable
+hood,” and was ever chosen by limners to cover the head of any woman of age or
+dignity who was to be depicted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the <i>Ladies’ Dictionary</i> a hood is defined thus: “A Dutch attire
+covering the head, face and all the body.” And the long cloak with this draped
+hood, which must have been much like the Shaker cloak of to-day, seems to have
+been deemed a Dutch garment. It was warm and comfortable enough to be adopted
+readily by the English Pilgrims in Holland. It had come to England, however, in
+an earlier century. Of Ellinor Rummin, the alewife, Skelton wrote about the
+year 1500:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“A Hake of Lincoln greene<br/>
+It had been hers I weene<br/>
+More than fortye yeare<br/>
+And soe it doth appeare<br/>
+And the green bare threds<br/>
+Looked like sere wedes<br/>
+Withered like hay<br/>
+The wool worn awaye<br/>
+And yet I dare saye<br/>
+She thinketh herself gaye<br/>
+Upon a holy day.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+It is impossible to know how old this hood is. When I have fancied I had the
+earliest reference that could be found, I would soon come to another a few
+years earlier. We know positively from the <i>Lisle Papers</i> that it was worn
+in England by the name “French hood” in 1540. Anne Basset, daughter of Lady
+Lisle, had come into the household of the queen of Henry VIII, who at the time
+was Anne of Cleves. The “French Apparell” which the maid of honor fetched from
+Calais was not pleasing to the queen, who promptly ordered the young girl to
+wear “a velvet bonnet with a frontlet and edge of pearls.” These bonnets are
+familiar to us on the head of Anne’s predecessor, Anne Boleyn. They were worn
+even by young children. One is shown <a href="#Lady_Anne_Clifford.">here</a>.
+The young lady borrowed a bonnet; and a factor named Husee—the biggest gossip
+of his day—promptly chronicles to her mother, “I saw her (Anne Basset)
+yesterday in her velvet bonnet that my Lady Sussex had tired her in, and
+thought it became her nothing so well as the French hood,—but the Queen’s
+pleasure must be done!”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Hannah_Callowhill_Penn."></a>
+<img src="images/269.jpg" alt="Hannah Callowhill Penn." />
+<p class="caption">Hannah Callowhill Penn.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Doubtless some of the Pilgrim Mothers wore bonnets like this one of Anne
+Basset’s, especially if the wearer were a widow, when there was also an under
+frontlet which was either plain, plaited, or folded, but which came in a
+distinct point in the middle of the forehead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This cap, or bandeau, with point on the forehead, is precisely the widow’s cap
+worn by Catherine de Medicis. She was very severe in dress, but she introduced
+the wearing of neck-ruffs. She also wore hoods, the favorite head-covering of
+all Frenchwomen at that time. This form of head-gear was sometimes called a
+widow’s peak, on account of a similar peak of black silk or white being often
+worn by widows, apparently of all European nations. Magdalen Beeckman, an
+American woman of Dutch descent (<a href="#Mrs._Magdalen_Beekman.">here</a>),
+wears one. The name is still applied to a pointed growth of hair on the
+forehead. It has also been known as a headdress of Mary Queen of Scots, because
+some of her portraits display this pointed outline of head-gear. It continued
+until the time of Charles II. It is often found on church brasses, and was
+plainly a head-gear of dignity. A modified form is shown in the portrait of
+Lady Mary Armine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Stubbes in his <i>Anatomie of Abuses</i> gives a notion of the importance of
+the French hood when he speaks of the straining of all classes for rich attire:
+that “every artificer’s wife” will not go without her hat of velvet every day;
+“every merchant’s wife and meane gentlewoman” must be in her “French hood”; and
+“every poor man’s daughter” in her “taffatie hat or of wool at least.” We have
+seen what a fierce controversy burned over Madam Johnson’s “schowish” velvet
+hood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An excellent account of this black hood as worn by the Puritans is given in
+rhyme in “Hudibras <i>Redivivus</i>,” a long poem utterly worthless save for
+the truthful descriptions of dress; it runs:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The black silk Hood, with formal pride<br/>
+First roll’d, beneath the chin was tied<br/>
+So close, so very trim and neat,<br/>
+So round, so formal, so complete,<br/>
+That not one jag of wicked lace<br/>
+Or rag of linnen white had place<br/>
+Betwixt the black bag and the face,<br/>
+Which peep’d from out the sable hood<br/>
+Like Luna from a sullen cloud.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+It was doubtless selected by the women followers of Fox on account of its
+ancient record of sobriety and sanctity.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Are the pinch’d cap and formal hood the emblems of sanctity? Does your virtue
+consist in your dress, Mrs. Prim?”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+writes Mrs. Centlivre in <i>A Bold Stroke for a Wife</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The black hood was worn long by Quaker women ere they adopted the beaver hat of
+the eighteenth century, and the poke-bonnet of the nineteenth century. <a
+href="#Hannah_Callowhill_Penn.">Here</a> is given a portrait of Hannah
+Callowhill Penn, a Quaker, the second wife of William Penn. She was a sensible
+woman brought up in a home where British mercantile thrift vied with Quaker
+belief in adherence to sober attire, and her portrait plainly shows her
+character. Penn’s young and pretty wife of his youth wears a fashionable
+pocket-hoop and rich brocade dress; but she wears likewise the simple black
+hood (<a href="#Gulielma_Penn.">here</a>).
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The dominance of this black French hood came not, however, through its wear by
+sober-faced, discreet English Puritans and Quakers, but through a French
+influence, a court influence, the earnestness of its adoption by Madame de
+Maintenon, wife of King Louis XIV of France. The whole dress of this strange
+ascetic would by preference have been that of a penitent; but the king had a
+dislike of anything like mourning, so she wore dresses of some dark color other
+than black, generally a dull brown. The conventual aspect of her attire was
+added to by this large black hood, which was her constant wear, and is seen in
+her portraits. The life at court became melancholy, dejected, filled with icy
+reserve. And Madame, whether she rode “shut up in a close chair,” says Duclos,
+“to avoid the least breath of air, while the King walked by her side, taking
+off his hat each time he stopped to speak to her”; or when she attended
+services in the chapel, sitting in a closed gallery; or even in her own sombre
+apartments, bending in silence over ecclesiastic needlework,—everywhere, her
+narrow, yellow, livid face was shadowed and buried in this black hood.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Madame_de_Miramion."></a>
+<img src="images/272.jpg" alt="Madame de Miramion." />
+<p class="caption">Madame de Miramion.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Her strange power over the king was in force in 1681, and, until his death in
+1715, this sable hood, so unlike the French taste, covered the heads of French
+women of all ages and ranks. The genial, almost quizzical countenance of that
+noble and charitable woman, Madame de Miramion, wears a like hood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This French hood is prominent everywhere in book illustrations of the
+eighteenth century and even of earlier years. The loosely tied corners and the
+sides appear under the straw hats upon many of the figures in Tempest’s
+<i>Cryes of London</i>, 1698, such as the Milk woman, the “Newes” woman, etc.,
+which publication, I may say in passing, is a wonderful source for the student
+of everyday costume. I give the Strawberry Girl on this page to show the
+ordinary form of the French hood on plain folk. <i>Misson’s Memories</i>,
+published also in 1698, it gives the milkmaids on Mayday in like hoods. The
+early editions of Hudibras show these hoods, and in Hogarth’s works they may be
+seen; not always of black, of course, in later years, but ever of the same
+shape.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="The_Strawberry_Girl."></a>
+<img src="images/273.jpg" alt="The Strawberry Girl." />
+<p class="caption">The Strawberry Girl.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The hood worn by the Normans was called a chaperon. It was a sort of pointed
+bag with an oval opening for the face; sometimes the point was of great length,
+and was twisted, folded, knotted. In the Bodleian Library is a drawing of
+eleven figures of young lads and girls playing <i>Hoodman-blind</i> or
+<i>Blindman’s-buff</i>. The latter name came from the buffet or blow which the
+players gave with their twisted chaperon hoods. The blind man simply put his
+hood on “hind side afore,” and was effectually blinded. These figures are of
+the fifteenth century.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Black_Silk_Hood."></a>
+<img src="images/274.jpg" alt="Black Silk Hood." />
+<p class="caption">Black Silk Hood.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The wild latitude of spelling often makes it difficult to define an article of
+dress. I have before me a letter of the year 1704, written in Boston, asking
+that a riding-hood be sent from England of any color save yellow; and one
+sentence of the instructions reads thus, “If ’tis velvet let it be a
+shabbaroon; if of cloth, a French hood.” I abandoned “shabbaroon” as a wholly
+lost word; until Mrs. Gummere announced that the word was chaperon, from the
+Norman hood just described. This chaperon is specifically the hood worn by the
+Knights of the Garter when in full dress; in general it applies to any ample
+hood which completely covers head and face save for eye-holes. Another hood was
+the sortie.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Quilted_Hood."></a>
+<img src="images/275.jpg" alt="Quilted Hood." />
+<p class="caption">Quilted Hood.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The term “coif,” spelt in various ways, quoif, quoiffe, coiffer, ciffer,
+quoiffer, has been held to apply to the French hood; but it certainly did not
+in America, for I find often in inventories side by side items of black silk
+hoods and another of quoifs, which I believe were the white undercaps worn with
+the French hood; just as a coif was the close undercap for men’s wear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Through the two centuries following the assumption of the French hood came a
+troop of hoods, though sometimes under other names. In 1664 Pepys tells of his
+wife’s yellow bird’s-eye hood, “very fine, to church, as the fashion now is.”
+Planché says hoods were not displaced by caps and bonnets till George II’s
+time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the list of the “wedding apparell” of Madam Phillips, of Boston, are velvet
+hoods, love-hoods, and “sneal hoods”; hoods of Persian, of lustring, of gauze;
+frequently scarlet hoods are named. In 1712 Richard Hall sent, from Barbadoes
+to Boston, a trunk of his deceased wife’s finery to be sold, among which was
+“one black Flowered Gauze Hoode,” and he added rather spitefully that he “could
+send better but it would be too rich for Boston.” He was a grandson of Madam
+Symonds of Ipswich. Furbelowed gauze hoods were then owned by Boston women, and
+must have been pretty things. Their delicacy has kept them from being preserved
+as have been velvet and Persian hoods.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For the years 1673 to 1721 we have a personal record of domestic life in
+Boston, a diary which is the sole storehouse to which we can turn for intimate
+knowledge of daily deeds in that little town. A scant record it is, as to
+wearing apparel; for the diary-writer, Samuel Sewall, sometime business man,
+friend, neighbor, councillor, judge,—and always Puritan,—had not a regard of
+dress as had his English contemporary, the gay Samuel Pepys, or even that sober
+English gentleman, John Evelyn. In Pepys’s pages we have frequent and
+light-giving entries as to dress, interested and interesting entries. In Judge
+Sewall’s diary, any references to dress are wholly accidental and not related
+as matters of any moment, save one important exception, his attitude toward
+wigs and wig-wearing. I could wish Sewall had had a keener eye for dress, for
+he wrote in strong, well-ordered English; and when he was deeply moved he wrote
+with much color in his pen. The most spirited episodes in the book are the
+judge’s remarkable and varied courtships after he was left a widower at the age
+of sixty-five, and again when sixty-eight. While thus courting he makes almost
+his sole reference to women’s dress,—that Madam Mico when he called came to him
+in a splendid dress, and that Madam Winthrop’s dress, <i>after she had refused
+him</i>, was “not so clean as sometime it had been.” But an article of his own
+dress, nevertheless, formed an important factor in his unsuccessful courtship
+of Madam Winthrop—his hood. When all the other widowers of the community,
+dignified magistrates, parsons, and men of professions, all bourgeoned out in
+stately full-bottomed wigs, what woman would want to have a lover who came
+a-courting in a hood? A detachable hood with a cloak, I doubt not he wore, like
+the one owned by Judge Curwen, his associate in that terrible tale of Salem’s
+bigotry, cruelty, and credulity, the Witchcraft Trial. I cannot fancy Judge
+Sewall in a scarlet cloak and hood—a sad-colored one seems more in keeping with
+his temperament.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Perhaps our old friend, the judge, wore his hood under his hat, as did the
+sober citizens in Piers Plowman; and as did judges in England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is certain that many men wore hoods; and they wore occasionally a garment
+which was really woman’s wear, namely, a “riding hood”; which was also called a
+Dutch hood, and was like Elinor Rummin’s hake. This riding-hood was really more
+of a cloak than a head-covering, as it often had arm-holes. It might well be
+classed with cloaks. I may say here that it is not possible, either by years or
+by topics, to isolate completely each chapter of this book from the other. Its
+very arrangement, being both by chronology and subject, gives me considerable
+liberty, which I now take in this chapter, by retaining the riding-hood among
+hoods, simply because of its name.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Pink_Silk_Hood."></a>
+<img src="images/278.jpg" alt="Pink Silk Hood." />
+<p class="caption">Pink Silk Hood.
+</p></div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Pug_Hood."></a>
+<img src="images/279.jpg" alt="Pug Hood." />
+<p class="caption">Pug Hood.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+On May 6, 1717, the <i>Boston News Letter</i> gave a description of a gayly
+attired Indian runaway; she wore off a “red Camblet Ryding Hood fac’d with
+blue.” Another servant absconded with an orange-colored riding-hood with
+arm-holes. I have an ancient pattern of a riding-hood; it was found in the
+bottom of an old hair-covered trunk. It was marked “London Ryding Hood.” With
+it were rolled several packages of bits of woollen stuff, one of scarlet
+broadcloth, one of blue camlet, plainly labelled “Cuttings from Apphia’s ryding
+hood” and “Pieces from Mary’s ryding hood,” showing that they had been placed
+there with the pattern when the hood was cut. It is a cape, cut in a deep point
+in front and back; the extreme length of the points from the collar being about
+twenty-six inches. The hood is precisely like the one on Judge Curwen’s cloak,
+like the hoods of Shaker cloaks. As bits of silk are rolled with the wool
+pieces, I infer that these riding-hoods were silk lined.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A most romantic name was given to the riding-hood after the battle of Preston
+in 1715. The Earl of Nithsdale, after the defeat of the Jacobites, was
+imprisoned in the Tower of London under sentence of death. From thence he made
+his escape through his wife’s coolness and ingenuity. She visited him dressed
+in a large riding-hood which could be drawn closely over her face. He escaped
+in her dress and hood, fled to the continent, and lived thirty years in safety
+in France. After that dashing rescue, these hoods were known as Nithsdales. The
+head-covering portion still resembled the French hood, but the
+shoulder-covering portion was circular and ruffled—according to Hogarth. In
+Durfey’s <i>Wit and Mirth</i>, 1719, is a spirited song commemorating this
+“sacred wife,” who—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“by her Wits immortal pains<br/>
+With her quick head has saved his brains.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+One verse runs thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Let Traitors against Kings conspire<br/>
+Let secret spies great Statesmen hire,<br/>
+Nought shall be by detection got<br/>
+If Woman may have leave to plot.<br/>
+There’s nothing clos’d with Bars or Locks<br/>
+Can hinder Night-rayls, Pinners, Smocks;<br/>
+For they will everywhere make good<br/>
+As now they’ve done the Riding-hood.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In 1737 “pug hoods” were in fashion. We have no proof of their shape, though I
+am told they were the close, plain, silk hood sometimes worn under other hoods.
+One is shown <a href="#Pug_Hood.">here</a>. Pumpkin hoods of thickly wadded
+wool were prodigiously hot head-coverings; they were crudely pumpkin shaped.
+Knitted hoods, under such names as “comforters,” “fascinators,” “rigolettes,”
+“nubias,” “opera hoods,” “molly hoods,” are of nineteenth-century invention.
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 35%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Within my memory the Ladies covered their lovely Necks with a Cloak, this
+was exchanged for the Manteel; this again was succeeded by the Pelorine; the
+Pelorine by the Neckatee; the Neckatee by the Capuchin, which hath now stood
+its ground for a long time.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Covent Garden Journal,” May 1, 1752.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“Mary Wallace and Clemintina Ferguson Just arrived from the Kingdom of
+Ireland intend to follow the business of Mantua making and have furnished
+themselves from London in patterns of the following kinds of wear, and have
+fixed a correspondence so to have from thence the earliest Fashions in
+Miniature. They are at Peter Clarke’s within two doors of William Walton’s,
+Esq., in the Fly. Ladies and Gentlemen that employ them may depend on being
+expeditiously and reasonably served in making the following Articles, that is
+to say—Sacks, Negligees, Negligee-night-gowns, plain-nightgowns, pattanlears,
+shepherdesses, Roman cloaks, Cardinals, Capuchins, Dauphinesses, Shades
+lorrains, Bonnets and Hives.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“New York Mercury,” May, 1757.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="86" src="images/initialu.jpg" alt="U" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+nder the general heading of cloaks I intend to write of the various capelike
+shoulder-coverings, for both men and women, which were worn in the two
+centuries of costume whereof this book treats. Often it is impossible to
+determine whether a garment should be classed as a hood or a cloak, for so many
+cloaks were made with head-coverings. Both capuchins and cardinals, garments of
+popularity for over a century, had hoods, and were worn as head-gear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is shown <a href="#Scarlet_Broadcloth_Hooded_Cloak.">here</a> a full,
+long cloak of rich scarlet broadcloth, which is the oldest cloak I know. It has
+an interesting and romantic history. No relic in Salem is more noteworthy than
+this. It has survived since witchcraft days; and with right care, care such as
+it receives from its present owner, will last a thousand years. It was worn by
+Judge Curwen, one of the judges in those dark hours for Salem; and is still
+owned by Miss Bessie Curwen, his descendant. It will be noted that it bears a
+close resemblance to the Shaker cloaks of to-day, though the hood is handsomer.
+This hood also is detached from the cape. The presiding justice in the Salem
+witchcraft trials was William Stoughton, a severe Puritan. In later years Judge
+Sewall, his fellow-judge, in an agony of contrition, remorse, self-reproach,
+self-abnegation, and exceeding sorrow at those judicial murders, stood in
+Boston meeting-house, at a Sabbath service while his pastor read aloud his
+confession of his cruel error, his expression of his remorse therefor. A
+striking figure is he in our history. No thoughtful person can regard without
+emotions of tenderest sympathy and admiration that benignant white-haired head,
+with black skullcap, bowed in public disgrace, which was really his honor. But
+Judge Stoughton never expressed, in public or private, remorse or even regret.
+I doubt if he ever felt either. He plainly deemed his action right. I wish he
+could tell us what he thinks of it now. In his portrait here he wears a
+skullcap, as does Judge Sewall in his portrait, and a cloak with a cape like
+that of his third associate, Judge Curwen. Judge Sewall had both cloak and
+hood. Possibly all judges wore them. Judge Stoughton’s cloak has a rich collar
+and a curious clasp.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Scarlet_Broadcloth_Hooded_Cloak."></a>
+<img src="images/284.jpg" alt="Scarlet Broadcloth Hooded Cloak." />
+<p class="caption">Scarlet Broadcloth Hooded Cloak.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Stubbes of course told of the fashion of cloak-wearing:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“They have clokes also in nothing discrepant from the rest; of dyverse and
+sundry colours, white red tawnie black, green yellow russet purple violet and
+an infinyte of other colours. Some of cloth silk velvet taffetie and such like;
+some of the Spanish French or Dutch fashion. Some short, scarcely reaching to
+the gyrdlestead or waist, some to the knee, and othersome trayling upon the
+ground almost like gownes than clokes. These clokes must be garded laced &amp;;
+thorouly full, and sometimes so lined as the inner side standeth almost in as
+much as the outside. Some have sleeves, othersome have none. Some have hoodes
+to pull over the head, some have none. Some are hanged with points and tassels
+of gold silver silk, some without all this. But howsoever it bee, the day hath
+bene when one might have bought him two Clokes for lesse than now he can have
+one of these Clokes made for. They have such store of workmanship bestowed upon
+them.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+It is such descriptions as this that make me regard in admiration this ancient
+Puritan. Would that I had the power of his pen! Fashion-plates, forsooth! The
+<i>Journal of the Modes</i>!—pray, what need have we of any pictures or any
+mantua-maker’s words when we can have such a description as this. Why! the man
+had a perfect genius for millinery! Had he lived three centuries later, we
+might have had Master Stubbes in full control (openly or secretly, according to
+his environment) of some dress-making or tailoring establishment <i>pour les
+dames</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lining of these cloaks was often very gay in color and costly; “standing in
+as much as the outside.” We find a son of Governor Winthrop writing in 1606:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I desire you to bring me a very good camlet cloake lyned with what you like
+except blew. It may be purple or red or striped with those or other colors if
+so worn suitable and fashionable.... I would make a hard shift rather than not
+have the cloak.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Similar cloaks of scarlet, and of blue lined with scarlet, formed part of the
+uniform of soldiers for many years and for many nations. They were certainly
+the wear of thrifty comfortable English gentlemen. Did not John Gilpin wear one
+on his famous ride?
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“There was all that he might be<br/>
+  Equipped from head to toe,<br/>
+His long red cloak well-brushed and neat<br/>
+  He manfully did throw.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Scarlet was a most popular color for all articles of dress in the early years
+of the eighteenth century. Like the good woman in the Book of Proverbs, both
+English and American housewife “clothed her household in scarlet.” Women as
+well as men wore these scarlet cloaks. It is curious to learn from Mrs. Gummere
+that even Quakers wore scarlet. When Margaret Fell married George Fox, greatest
+of Quakers, he bought her a scarlet mantle. And in 1678 he sent her scarlet
+cloth for another mantle. There was good reason in the wear of scarlet; it both
+was warm and looked warm; and the color was a lasting one. It did not fade like
+many of the homemade dyes.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Judge_Stoughton."></a>
+<img src="images/287.jpg" alt="Judge Stoughton." />
+<p class="caption">Judge Stoughton.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+A very interesting study is that of color in wearing apparel. Beginning with
+the few crude dyes of mediaeval days, we could trace the history of dyeing, and
+the use and invention of new colors and tints. The names of these colors are
+delightful; the older quaint titles seem wonderfully significant. We read of
+such tints as billymot, phillymurt, or philomot (feuille-mort), murry,
+blemmish, gridolin (gris-de-lin or flax blossom), puce colour, foulding colour,
+Kendal green, Lincoln green, treen-colour, watchet blue, barry, milly, tuly,
+stammel red, Bristol red, zaffer-blue, which was either sapphire-blue or
+zaffre-blue, and a score of fanciful names whose signification and
+identification were lost with the death of the century. Historical events were
+commemorated in new hues; we have the political, diplomatic, and military
+history of various countries hinted to us. Great discoveries and inventions
+give names to colors. The materials and methods of dyeing, especially domestic
+dyes, are most interesting. An allied topic is the significance of colors, the
+limitation of their use. For instance, the study of blue would fill a chapter.
+The dress of ’prentices and serving-men in Elizabeth’s day was always blue blue
+cloaks in winter, blue coats in summer. Blue was not precisely a livery; it was
+their color, the badge of their condition in life, as black is now a parson’s.
+Different articles of dress clung to certain colors. Green stockings had their
+time and season of clothing the sturdy legs of English dames as inevitably as
+green stalks filled the fields. Think of the years of domination of the green
+apron; of the black hood—it is curious indeed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In such exhaustive books upon special topics as the <i>History of the Twelve
+Great Livery Companies of London</i> we find wonderfully interesting and
+significant proof of the power of color; also in many the restrictive sumptuary
+laws of the Crown.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It would appear that this long, scarlet cloak never was out of wear for men and
+women until the nineteenth century. It was, at times, not the height of the
+fashion, but still was worn. Various ancient citizens of Boston, of Salem, are
+recalled through letter or traditions as clinging long to this comfortable
+cloak. Samuel Adams carried a scarlet cloak with him when he went to
+Washington.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I shall tell in a later chapter of my own great-great-grandmother’s wear of a
+scarlet cloak until the opening years of the nineteenth century. During and
+after the Revolution these cloaks remained in high favor for women. French
+officers, writing home to France glowing accounts of the fair Americans, noted
+often that the ladies wore scarlet cloaks, and Madame Riedesel asserted that
+all gentlewomen in Canada never left the house save in a scarlet silk or cloth
+cloak.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“A woman’s long scarlet cloak, almost new with a double cape,” had been one of
+the articles feloniously taken from the house of Benjamin Franklin, printer, in
+Philadelphia, in 1750. Debby Franklin’s dress, if we can judge from what was
+stolen, was a gay revel of color. Among the articles was one gown having a
+pattern of “large red roses and other large yellow flowers with blue in some of
+the flowers with many green leaves.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the <i>Life of Jonathan Trumbull</i> we read that when a collection was
+taken in the Lebanon church for the benefit of the soldiers of the Continental
+army, when money, jewels, clothing, and food were gathered in a great heap near
+the pulpit, Madam Faith Trumbull rose up, threw from her shoulders her splendid
+scarlet cloth cloak, a gift from Count Rochambeau, advanced to the altar and
+laid the cloak with other offerings of patriotism and generosity. It was used,
+we are told, to trim the uniforms of the Continental officers and soldiers.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="WomansCloakFromHogarth"></a>
+<img src="images/291.jpg" alt="Woman’s Cloak. From Hogarth." />
+<p class="caption">Woman’s Cloak. From Hogarth.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+One of the first entries in regard to dress made by Philip Fithian in 1773,
+when he went to Virginia as a school-teacher, was that “almost every Lady wears
+a Red Cloak; and when they ride out they tye a Red Handkerchief over their Head
+&amp;; Face; so when I first came to Virginia, I was distrest whenever I saw a
+Lady, for I thought she had the Tooth-Ach!” When the young tutor left his
+charge a year later, he wrote a long letter of introduction, instruction, and
+advice to his successor; and so much impression had this riding-dress still
+upon him that he recounted at length the “Masked Ladies,” as he calls them,
+explaining that the whole neck and face was covered, save a narrow slit for the
+eyes, as if they had “the Mumps or Tooth-Ach.” It is possible that the insect
+torments encountered by the fair riders may have been the reason for this
+cloaking and masking. Not only mosquitoes and flies and fleas were abundant,
+but Fithian tells of the irritating illness and high fever of the fairest of
+his little flock from being bitten with ticks, “which cover her like a distinct
+smallpox.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In seventeenth-century inventories an occasional item is a rocket. I think no
+better description of a rocket can be given than that of Celia Fiennes:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“You meete all sorts of countrywomen wrapped up in the mantles called West
+Country Rockets, a large mantle doubled together, of a sort of serge, some are
+linsey-woolsey and a deep fringe or fag at the lower end; these hang down, some
+to their feet, some only just below the waist; in the summer they are all in
+white garments of this sort, in the winter they are in red ones.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This would seem much like a blanket shawl, but the word was also applied to the
+scarlet round cloak.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another much-used name and cloaklike garment was the roquelaure. A very good
+contemporary definition may be copied from <i>A Treatise on the Modes</i>,
+1715; it says it is “a short abridgement or compendium of a coat which is
+dedicated to the Duke of Roquelaure.” It was simply a shorter cloak than had
+been worn, and it was hoodless; for the great curled wigs with heavy locks well
+over the shoulders made hoods superfluous; and even impossible, for men’s wear.
+It was very speedily taken into favor by women; and soon the advertisements of
+lost articles show that it was worn by women universally as by men. In the
+<i>Boston News Letter</i>, in 1730, a citizen advertises that he has lost his
+“Blue Cloak or Roculo with brass buttons.” This was the first of an ingenious
+series of misspellings which produced at times a word almost unrelated to the
+original French word. Rocklow, rockolet, roquelo, rochelo, roquello, and even
+rotkello have I found. Ashton says that scarlet cloth was the favorite fabric
+for roquelaures in England; and he deems the scarlet roclows and rocliers with
+gold loops and buttons “exceeding magnifical.” I note in the American
+advertisements that the lost roquelaures are of very bright colors; some were
+of silk, some of camlet; generally they are simply ‘cloth.’ Many of the
+American roquelaures had double capes. I think those handsome, gay cloaks must
+have given a very bright, cheerful aspect to the town streets of the middle of
+the eighteenth century.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sir William Pepperell, who was ever a little shaky in his spelling, but
+possibly no more so than his neighbors, sent in 1737 from Piscataqua to one
+Hooper in England for “A Handsom Rockolet for my daughter of about 15 yrs. old,
+or what is ye Most Newest Fashion for one of her age to ware at meeting in ye
+Winter Season.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The capuchin was a hooded cloak named from the hooded garment worn by the
+Capuchin monks. The date 1752 given by Fairholt as an early date of its wear is
+far wrong. Fielding used the word in <i>Tom Jones</i> in 1749; other English
+publications, in 1709; and I find it in the <i>Letters of Madame de Sévigné</i>
+as early as 1686. The cardinal, worn at the same date, was originally of
+scarlet cloth, and I find was generally of some wool stuff. At one time I felt
+sure that cardinal was always the name for the woollen cloak, and capuchin of
+the silken one; but now I am a bit uncertain whether this is a rule. Judging
+from references in literature and advertisements, the capuchin was a richer
+garment than the cardinal. Capuchins were frequently trimmed liberally with
+lace, ribbons, and robings; were made of silk with gauze ruffles, or of figured
+velvet. One is here shown which is taken from one of Hogarth’s prints.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="A_Capuchin._From_Hogarth."></a>
+<img src="images/294.jpg" alt="A Capuchin. From Hogarth." />
+<p class="caption">A Capuchin. From Hogarth.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+This notice is from the <i>Boston Evening Post</i> of January 13, 1772:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Taken from Concert Hall on Thursday Evening a handsom Crimson Satin Capuchin
+trimmed with a rich white Blond Lace with a narrow Blond Lace on the upper edge
+Lined with White Sarsnet.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In 1752 capuchins and cardinals were much worn, especially purple ones. The
+<i>Connoisseur</i> says all colors were neglected for purple. “In purple we
+glowed from hat to shoe. In such request were ribbons and silks of that famous
+color that neither milliner mercer nor dyer could meet the demand.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The names “cardinal” and “capuchin” had been derived from monkish wear, and the
+cape, called a pelerine, had an allied derivation; it is said to be derived
+from <i>pèlerin</i>—meaning a pilgrim. It was a small cape with longer ends
+hanging in front; and was invented as a light, easily adjustable covering for
+the ladies’ necks, which had been left so widely and coldly bare by the low-cut
+French bodices. It is said that the garment was invented in France in 1671. I
+do not find the word in use in America till 1730. Then mantua-makers advertised
+that they would make them. Various materials were used, from soft silk and thin
+cloth to rich velvet; but silk pelerines were more common.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1743, in the <i>Boston News Letter</i>, Henrietta Maria East advertised that
+“Ladies may have their Pellerines made” at her mantua-making shop. In 1749
+“pellerines” were advertised for sale in the <i>Boston Gazette</i> and a black
+velvet “pellerine” was lost.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the quotation heading this chapter, manteel, pelerine, and neckatee precede
+the capuchin; but in fact the capuchin is as old as the pelerine. Beyond the
+fact that all mantua-makers made neckatees, and that they were a small cape,
+this garment cannot be described. It required much less stuff than either
+capuchin or cardinal. The “manteel” was, of course, as old as the cloak. Elijah
+“took his mantle and wrapped it together, and smote the waters.” In the Middle
+Ages the mantle was a great piece of cloth in any cloaklike shape, of which the
+upper corners were fastened at the neck. Often one of the front edges was
+thrown over one shoulder. In the varied forms of spelling and wearing, as
+manto, manteau, mantoon, mantelet, and mantilla the foundation is the same. We
+have noted the richness and elegance of Madam Symonds’s mantua. We could not
+forget the word and its signification while we have so important a use of it in
+mantua-maker.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Lady_Caroline_Montagu."></a>
+<img src="images/296.jpg" alt="Lady Caroline Montagu." />
+<p class="caption">Lady Caroline Montagu.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Dauphiness was the name of a certain style of mantle, which was most popular
+about 1750. Harriot Paine had “Dauphiness Mantles” for sale in Boston in 1755.
+A rude drawing in an old letter indicates that the “Dauphiness” had a deep
+point at the back, and was cut up high at the arm-hole. It was of thin silk,
+and was trimmed all around the lower edge with a deep, full frill of the silk,
+which at the arm-hole fell over the arm like a short sleeve.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many were the names of those pretty little cloaks and capes which were worn
+with the sacque-shaped gowns. The duchess was one; we revived the name for a
+similar mantle in 1870. The pelisse was in France the cloak with arm-holes,
+shown, <a href="#Lady_Caroline_Montagu.">here</a>, upon one of Sir Joshua
+Reynolds’s engaging children. The pelisse in America sometimes had sleeves, I
+am sure; and was hardly a cloak. It is difficult to classify some forms which
+seem almost jackets. A general distinction may be made not to include sleeved
+garments with the cloaks; but several of the manteaus had loose, large, flowing
+sleeves, and some like Madam Symonds’s had detached sleeves. It is also
+difficult to know whether some of the negligees were cloaks or sacque-like
+gowns. And there is the other extreme; some of the smaller, circular
+neck-coverings like the van-dykes are not cloaks. They are scarcely capes; they
+are merely collars; but there are still others which are a bit bigger and are
+certainly capes. And are there not also capes, like the neckatee, which may be
+termed cloaks? Material, too, is bewildering; a light gauze thing of ribbons
+and furbelows like the Unella is not really a cloak, yet it takes a cloaklike
+form. There are no cut and dried rules as to size, form, or weight of these
+cloaks, capes, collars, and hoods, so I have formed my own classes and
+assignments.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Rise up to thy Elders, put off thy Hat, make a Leg”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Janua Linguarum,” COMENIUS, 1664.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“Little ones are taught to be proud of their clothes before they can put
+them on.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Essay on Human Understanding,” LOCKE, 1687.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“When thou thyself, a watery, pulpy, slobbery Freshman and newcomer on this
+Planet, sattest mewling in thy nurse’s arms; sucking thy coral, and looking
+forth into the world in the blankest manner, what hadst thou been without thy
+blankets and bibs and other nameless hulls?”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Sartor Resartus,” THOMAS CARLYLE, 1836.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="88" src="images/initialw.jpg" alt="W" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+hen we reflect that in any community the number of “the younger sort” is far
+larger than of grown folk, when we know, too, what large families our ancestors
+had, in all the colonies, we must deem any picture of social life, any history
+of costume, incomplete unless the dress of children is shown. French and
+English books upon costume are curiously silent regarding such dress. It might
+be alleged as a reason for this singular silence that the dress of young
+children was for centuries precisely that of their elders, and needed no
+specification. But infants’ dress certainly was widely different, and full of
+historic interest, as well as quaint prettiness; and there were certain details
+of the dress of older children that were most curious and were wholly unlike
+the contemporary garb of their elders; sometimes these details were survivals
+of ancient modes for grown folk, sometimes their name was a survival while
+their form had changed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For the dress of children of the early years of colonial life—the seventeenth
+century—I have an unusual group of five portraits. One is the little Padishal
+child, shown with her mother in the frontispiece, one is Robert Gibbes (shown
+<a href="#Robert_Gibbes.">here</a>). The third child is said to be John
+Quincy—his picture is opposite this page. The two portraits of Margaret and
+Henry Gibbes are owned in Virginia; but are too dimly photographed for
+reproduction. The portrait of Robert Gibbes is owned by inheritance by Miss
+Sarah B. Hager, of Kendal Green, Massachusetts. It is well preserved, having
+hung for over a hundred years on the same wall in the old house. He was four
+years old when this portrait was painted. It is marked 1670. John Quincy’s
+portrait is marked also plainly as one and a half years old, and with a date
+which is a bit dimmed; it is either 1670 or 1690. If it is 1690, the picture
+can be that of John Quincy, though he would scarcely be as large as is the
+portrayed figure. If the date is 1670, it cannot be John Quincy, for he was
+born in 1689. The picture has the same checker-board floor as the three other
+Gibbes portraits, four rows of squares wide; and the child’s toes are set at
+the same row as are the toes of the shoes in the picture of Robert Gibbes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The portraits of Henry and Margaret Gibbes are also marked plainly 1670. There
+was a fourth Gibbes child, who would have been just the age of the subject of
+the Quincy portrait; and it is natural that there should be a suspicion that
+this fourth portrait is of the fourth Gibbes child, not of John Quincy.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="John_Quincy."></a>
+<img src="images/301.jpg" alt="John Quincy." />
+<p class="caption">John Quincy.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Margaret Gibbes was born in 1663. Henry Gibbes was born in 1667. He became a
+Congregational minister. His daughter married Nathaniel Appleton, and through
+Nathaniel, John, Dr. John S., and John, the portrait, with that of Margaret,
+came to the present owner, General John W. S. Appleton, of Charlestown, West
+Virginia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The dress of these five children is of the same rich materials that would be
+worn by their mothers. The Padishal child wears black velvet like her mother’s
+gown; but her frock is brightened with scarlet points of color. The linings of
+the velvet hanging sleeves, the ribbon knots of the white virago-sleeve, the
+shoe-tip, the curious cap-tassel, are of bright scarlet. We have noted the
+dominance of scarlet in old English costumes. It was evidently the only color
+favored for children. The lace cap, the rich lace stomacher, the lace-edged
+apron, all are of Flemish lace. Margaret Gibbes wears a frock of similar shape,
+and equally rich and dark in color; it is a heavy brocade of blue and red, with
+a bit of yellow. Her fine apron, stomacher, and full sleeves are rich in
+needlework. Robert Gibbes’s “coat,” as a boy’s dress at that age then was
+called, is a striking costume. The inmost sleeves are of white lawn, over them
+are sleeves made of strips of galloon of a pattern in yellow, white, scarlet,
+and black, with a rolled cuff of red velvet. There is a similar roll around the
+hem of the coat. Still further sleeves are hanging sleeves of velvet trimmed
+with the galloon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It will be noted that his hanging sleeve is cut square and trimmed squarely
+across the end. It is similar to the sleeves worn at the same time by citizens
+of London in their formal “liveryman’s” dress, which had bands like pockets,
+that sometimes really were pockets.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His plain, white, hemstitched band would indicate that he was a boy, did not
+the swing of his petticoats plainly serve to show it, as do also his brothers’
+“coats.” That child knew well what it was to tread and trip on those hated
+petticoats as he went upstairs. I know how he begged for breeches. The apron of
+John Quincy varies slightly in shape from that of the other boy, but the
+general dress is like, save his pretty, gay, scarlet hood, worn over a white
+lace cap. One unique detail of these Gibbes portraits, and the Quincy portrait,
+is the shoes. In all four, the shoes are of buff leather, with absolutely
+square toes, with a thick, scarlet sole to which the buff-leather upper seems
+tacked with a row either of long, thick, white stitches or of heavy
+metal-headed nails; these white dots are very ornamental. One pair of the shoes
+has great scarlet roses on the instep. The square toe was distinctly a Cavalier
+fashion. It is in Miss Campion’s portrait, facing this page, and in the print
+of the Prince of Orange <a href="#311">here</a>, and is found in many portraits
+of the day. But these American shoes are in the minor details entirely unlike
+any English shoes I have seen in any collection elsewhere, and are most
+interesting. They were doubtless English in make.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The portrait of John Quincy resembles much in its dress that of Oliver Cromwell
+when two years old, the picture now at Chequers Court. Cromwell’s linen collar
+is rounded, and a curious ornament is worn in front, as a little girl would
+wear a locket. The whole throat and a little of the upper neck is bare. Dark
+hair, slightly curled, comes out from the close cap in front of the ears. This
+picture of Cromwell distinctly resembles his mother’s portrait.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="MissCampion1667"></a>
+<img src="images/304.jpg" alt="Miss Campion, 1667." />
+<p class="caption">Miss Campion, 1667.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The quaint tassel or rosette or feather on the cap of the Padishal child was a
+fashion of the day. It is seen in many Dutch portraits of children. In a
+curious old satirical print of Oliver Cromwell preaching are the figures of two
+little children drawn standing by their mother’s side. One child’s back is
+turned for our sight, and shows us what might well be the back of the gown of
+the Padishal child. The cap has the same ornament on the crown, and the hanging
+sleeves—of similar form—have, at intervals of a few inches apart from shoulder
+to heel, an outside embellishment of knots of ribbon. There is also a band or
+strip of embroidery or passementerie up the back of the gown from skirt-hem to
+lace collar, with a row of buttons on the strip. This proves that the dress was
+fastened in the back, as the stiff, unbroken, white stomacher also indicates.
+The other child is evidently a boy. His gown is long and fur-edged. His cap is
+round like a Scotch bonnet, and has also a tuft or rosette at the crown. On
+either side hang long strings or ribbon bands reaching from the cap edge to the
+knee.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These portraits of these little American children display nothing of that
+God-given attribute which we call genius, but they do possess a certain welcome
+trait, which is truthfulness; a hard attention to detail, which confers on them
+a quality of exactness of likeness of which we are very sensible. We have for
+comparison a series of portraits of the same dates, but of English children,
+the children of the royal and court families. I give <a
+href="#Duchess_of_Buckingham_and_her_Two_Children.">here</a> a part of the
+portrait group of the family of the Duke of Buckingham; namely, the Duchess of
+Buckingham and her two children, an infant son and a daughter, Mary. She was a
+wonderful child, known in the court as “Pretty Moll,” having the beauty of her
+father, the “handsomest-bodied” man in court, his vivacity, his vigor, and his
+love of dancing, all of which made him the prime favorite both of James and his
+son, Charles.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A letter exists written by the duchess to her husband while he was gone to
+Spain with his thirty suits of richly embroidered garments of which I have
+written in my first chapter. The duchess writes of “Pretty Moll,” who was not a
+year old:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“She is very well, I thank God; and when she is set to her feet and held by her
+sleeves she will not go softly but stamp, and set one foot before another very
+fast, and I think she will run before she can go. She loves dancing extremely;
+and when the Saraband is played, she will get her thumb and finger together
+offering to snap; and then when “Tom Duff” is sung, she will shake her apron;
+and when she hears the tune of the clapping dance my Lady Frances Herbert
+taught the Prince, she will clap both her hands together, and on her breast,
+and she can tell the tunes as well as any of us can; and as they change tunes
+she will change her dancing. I would you were here but to see her, for you
+would take much delight in her now she is so full of pretty play and tricks.
+Everybody says she grows each day more like you.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Can you not see the engaging little creature, clapping her hands and trying to
+step out in a dance? No imaginary description could equal in charm this bit of
+real life, this word-picture painted in bright and living colors by a mother’s
+love. I give another merry picture of her childhood and widowhood in a later
+chapter. Many portraits of “Pretty Moll” were painted by Van Dyck, more than of
+any woman in England save the queen. One shows her in the few months that she
+was the child-wife of the eldest son of the Earl of Pembroke. She is in the
+centre of the great family group. She was married thrice; her favorite choice
+of character in which to be painted was Saint Agnes, who died rather than be
+married at all.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="InfantsCap"></a>
+<img src="images/307.jpg" alt="Infant’s Cap." />
+<p class="caption">Infant’s Cap.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Both mother and child in this picture wear a lace cap of unusual shape, rather
+broader where turned over at the ear than at the top. It is seen on a few other
+portraits of that date, and seems to have come to England with the queen of
+James I. It disappeared before the graceful modes of hair-dressing introduced
+by Queen Henrietta Maria.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The genius of Van Dyck has preserved for us a wonderful portraiture of children
+of this period, the children of King Charles I. The earliest group shows the
+king and queen with two children; one a baby in arms with long clothes and
+close cap—this might have been painted yesterday. The little prince standing at
+his father’s knee is in a dark green frock, much like John Quincy’s, and
+apparently no richer. A painting at Windsor shows king and queen with the two
+princes, Charles and James; another, also at Windsor, gives the mother with the
+two sons. One at Turin gives the two princes with their sister. At Windsor, and
+in <i>replica</i> at Berlin, is the famous masterpiece with the five children,
+dated 1637.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Eleanor_Foster._1755."></a>
+<img src="images/309.jpg" alt="Eleanor Foster. 1755." />
+<p class="caption">Eleanor Foster. 1755.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+This exquisite group shows Charles, the Prince of Wales (aged seven), with his
+arm on the head of a great dog; he is in the full garb of a grown man, a
+Cavalier. His suit is red satin; the shoes are white, with red roses. Mary,
+demure as in all her portraits, is aged six; she wears virago-sleeves made like
+those of Margaret Gibbes, with hanging sleeves over them, a lace stomacher, and
+cap, with tufts of scarlet, and hair curled lightly on the forehead, and pulled
+out at the side in ringlets, like that of her mother, Henrietta Maria. The Duke
+of York, aged two, wears a red dress spotted with yellow, with sleeves
+precisely like those of Robert Gibbes; white lace-edged apron, stomacher, and
+cap; his hair is in curls. The Princess Elizabeth was aged about two; she is in
+blue. Her cap is of wrought and tucked lawn, and she wears either a pearl
+ear-ring or a pearl pendant at the corner of the cap just at the ear, and a
+string of pearls around her neck. She has a gentle, serious face, one with a
+premonitory tinge of sadness. She was the favorite daughter of the king, and
+wrote the inexpressibly touching account of his last days in prison. She was
+but thirteen, and he said to her the day before his execution, “Sweetheart, you
+will forget all this.” “Not while I live,” she answered, with many tears, and
+promised to write it down. She lived but a short time, for she was
+broken-hearted; she was found dead, with her head lying on the religious book
+she had been reading—in which attitude she is carved on her tomb. The baby is
+Princess Anne, a fat little thing not a year old; she is naked, save for a
+close cap and a little drapery. She died when three and a half years old; died
+with these words on her lips, “Lighten Thou mine eyes, O Lord, that I sleep not
+the sleep of Death.” It was not Puritan children only at that time who were
+filled with deep religious thought, and gave expression to that thought even in
+infancy; children of the Church of England and of the Roman Catholic Church
+were all widely imbued with religious feeling, and Biblical words were the
+familiar speech of the day, of both young and old. It rouses in me strange
+emotions when I gaze at this portrait and remember all that came into the lives
+of these royal children. They had been happier had they been born, like the
+little Gibbes children, in America, and of untitled parents.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="311"></a>
+<img src="images/311.jpg" width="405" height="600" alt="[Illustration: William,
+Prince of Orange.]" />
+<p class="caption">William, Prince of Orange.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+At Amsterdam may be seen the portrait of Princess Mary painted with her cousin,
+William of Orange, who became her child-husband. She had the happiest life of
+any of the five—if she ever could be happy after her father’s tragic death. In
+this later portrait she is a little older and sadder and stiffer. Her waist is
+more pinched, her shoulders narrower, her face more demure. His likeness is
+here given. The only marked difference in the dress of these children from the
+dress of the Gibbes children is in the lace; the royal family wear laces with
+deeply pointed edges, the point known as a Vandyke. The American children wear
+straight-edged laces, as was the general manner of laces of that day. An old
+print of the Duke of York when about seven years old is given (<a
+href="#JAMES_DUKE_OF_YORK">here</a>). He carries in his hand a quaint racket.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The costume worn by these children is like that of plebeian English children of
+the same date. A manuscript drawing of a child of the people in the reign of
+Charles I shows a precisely similar dress, save that the child is in
+leading-strings held by the mother; and in the belt to which the
+leading-strings are attached is thrust a “muckinder” or handkerchief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These leading-strings are seldom used now, but they were for centuries a factor
+in a child’s progress. They were a favorite gift to children; and might be a
+simple flat strip of strong stuff, or might be richly worked like the
+leading-strings which Mary, Queen of Scots embroidered for her little baby,
+James. These are three bands of Spanish pink satin ribbon, each about four or
+five feet long and over an inch wide. The three are sewed with minute
+over-and-over stitches into a flat band about four inches wide, and are
+embroidered with initials, emblems of the crown, a verse of a psalm, and a
+charming flower and grape design. The gold has tarnished into brown, and the
+flower colors are fled; but it is still a beautiful piece of work, speaking
+with no uncertain voice of a tender, loving mother and a womanly queen. There
+were crewel-worked leading-strings in America. One is prettily lined with
+strips of handsome brocade that had been the mother’s wedding petticoat; it is
+not an ill rival of the princely leading-strings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another little English girl, who was not a princess, but who lived in the years
+when ran and played our little American children, was Miss Campion, who “minded
+her horn-book”—minded it so well that she has been duly honored as the only
+English child ever painted with horn-book in hand. Her petticoat and stomacher,
+her apron, and cap and hanging sleeves and square-toed shoes are just like
+Margaret Gibbes’s—bought in the same London shops, very likely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not only did all these little English and American children dress alike, but so
+did French children, and so did Spanish children—only little Spanish girls had
+to wear hoops. Hoops were invented in Spain; and proud was the Spanish queen of
+them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Velasquez, contemporary with Van Dyck, painted the Infanta Maria Theresa; the
+portrait is now in the Prado at Madrid. She carries a handkerchief as big as a
+tablecloth; but above her enormous hoop appears not only the familiar
+virago-sleeve, but the straight whisk or collar, just like that of English
+children and dames. This child and the Princess Marguerite, by Velasquez, have
+the hair parted on one side with the top lock turned aside and tied with a knot
+of ribbon precisely as we tie our little daughters’ hair to-day; and as the
+bride of Charles II wore her hair when he married her. French children had not
+assumed hoops. I have an old French portrait before me of a little demoiselle,
+aged five, in a scarlet cloth gown with edgings of a narrow gray gimp or silver
+lace. All the sleeves, the slashes, the long, hanging sleeves are thus edged.
+She wears a long, narrow, white lawn apron, and her stiff bodice has a
+stomacher of lawn. There is a straight white collar tied with tiny bows in
+front and white cuffs; a scarlet close cap edged with silver lace completes an
+exquisite costume, which is in shape like that of Margaret Gibbes. The garments
+of all these children, royal and subject, are too long, of course, for comfort
+in walking; too stiff, likewise, for comfort in wearing; too richly laced to be
+suitable for everyday wear; too costly, save for folk of wealth; yet
+nevertheless so quaint, so becoming, so handsome, so rich, that we reluctantly
+turn away from them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The dress of all young children in families of estate was cumbersome to a
+degree. There exists to-day a warrant for the purchase of clothing of Mary
+Tudor, sister of Henry VIII, when she was a sportive, wilful, naughty little
+child of four. She wore such unwieldy and ugly guise as this: kirtles of tawny
+damask and black satin; gowns of green and crimson striped velvet edged with
+purple tinsel, which must have been hideous. All were lined with heavy black
+buckram. Indeed, the inner portions, the linings of old-time garments, even of
+royalty, were far from elegant. I have seen garments worn by grown princesses
+of the eighteenth century, whereof the rich brocade bodies were lined with
+common, heavy fabric, usually a stiff linen; and the sewing was done with
+thread as coarse as shoe-thread, often homespun. This, too, when the sleeve and
+neck-ruffles would be of needlework so exquisite that it could not be rivalled
+in execution to-day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many of the older portraits of children show hanging sleeves. The rich claret
+velvet dresses of the Van Cortlandt twins, aged four, had hanging sleeves. This
+dress is given in my book, <i>Child Life in Colonial Days</i>, as is that of
+Katherine Ten Broeck, another child of Dutch birth living in New York, who also
+wore heavy hanging sleeves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The use of the word hanging sleeves in common speech and in literature is most
+interesting. It had a figurative meaning; it symbolized youth and innocence.
+This meaning was acquired, of course, from the wear for centuries of hanging
+sleeves by little children, both boys and girls. It had a second, a derivative
+signification, being constantly employed as a figure of speech to indicate
+second childhood; it was used with a wistful tender meaning as an emblem of the
+helplessness of feeble old age. The following example shows such an employment
+of the term.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1720, Judge Samuel Sewall, of Boston, then about seventy-five years of age,
+wrote to another old gentleman, whose widowed sister he desired to marry, in
+these words:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I remember when I was going from school at Newbury to have sometime met your
+sisters Martha and Mary in Hanging Sleeves, coming home from their school in
+Chandlers Lane, and have had the pleasure of speaking to them. And I could find
+it in my heart now to speak to Mrs. Martha again, now I myself am reduced to
+Hanging Sleeves.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+William Byrd, of Westover, in Virginia, in one of his engaging and sprightly
+letters written in 1732, pictures the time of the patriarchs when “a man was
+reckoned at Years of Discretion at 100; Boys went into Breeches at about 40;
+Girles continued in Hanging Sleeves till 50, and plaid with their Babys till
+Threescore.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Benjamin Franklin was seven years old, he wrote a poem which was sent to
+his uncle, a bright old Quaker. This uncle responded in clever lines which
+begin thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“’Tis time for me to throw aside my pen<br/>
+When Hanging-Sleeves read, write and rhyme like men.<br/>
+This forward Spring foretells a plenteous crop<br/>
+For if the bud bear grain, what will the top?”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A curious use of the long hanging sleeve was as a pocket; that is, it would
+seem curious to us were it not for our acquaintance with the capacity of the
+sleeves of our unwelcome friend, Ah Sing. The pocketing sleeve of the time of
+Henry III still exists in the heraldic charge known as the manche, borne by the
+Hastings and Norton family. This is also called maunch, émanche, and mancheron.
+The word “manchette,” an ornamented cuff, retains the meaning of the word, as
+does manacle; all are from <i>manus</i>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hanging sleeves had a time of short popularity for grown folk while Anne Boleyn
+was queen of England; for the little finger of her left hand had a double tip,
+and the long, graceful sleeves effectually concealed the deformity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In my book entitled <i>Child Life in Colonial Days</i> I have given over thirty
+portraits of American children. These show the changes of fashions, the wear of
+children at various periods and ages. Childish dress ever reflected the dress
+of their elders, and often closely imitated it. Two very charming costumes are
+worn by two little children of the province of South Carolina. The little girl
+is but two years old. She is Ellinor Cordes, and was painted about 1740. She is
+a lovely little child of French features and French daintiness of dress, albeit
+a bright yellow brocaded satin would seem rather gorgeous attire for a girl of
+her years. The boy is her kinsman, Daniel Ravenel, and was then about five
+years old. He wore what might be termed a frock with spreading petticoats,
+which touched the ground; there is a decided boyishness in the tight-fitting,
+trim waistcoat with its silver buttons and lace, and the befrogged coat with
+broad cuffs and wrist ruffles, and turned-over revers, and narrow linen inner
+collar. It is an exceptionally pleasing boy’s dress, for a little boy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A somewhat similar but more feminine coat is worn by Thomas Aston Coffin; it
+opens in front over a white satin petticoat, and it has a low-cut neck and
+sleeves shortened to the elbow, and worn over full white undersleeves. Other
+portraits by Copley show the same dress of white satin, which boys wore till
+six years of age.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._Theodore_Sedgwick_and_Daughter."></a>
+<img src="images/318.jpg" alt="Mrs. Theodore Sedgwick and Daughter." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Theodore Sedgwick and Daughter.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Copley’s portrait of his own children is given on a later page. This family
+group always startles all who have seen it only in photographs; for its colors
+are so unexpected, so frankly crude and vivid. The individuals are all
+charming. The oldest child, the daughter, Elizabeth, stands in the foreground
+in a delightful white frock of striped gauze. This is worn over a pink slip,
+and the pink tints show in the thinner folds of whiteness; a fine piece of
+texture-painting. The gauze sash is tied in a vast knot, and lies out in a
+train; this is a more vivid pink, inclining to the tint of the old-rose damask
+furniture-covering. She wears a pretty little net and muslin cap with a cap-pin
+like a tiny rose. This single figure is not excelled, I think, by any child’s
+portrait in foreign galleries, nor is it often equalled. Nor can the exquisite
+expression of childish love and confidence seen on the face of the boy, John
+Singleton Copley, Junior, who later became Lord Lyndhurst, find a rival in
+painting. It is an unspeakably touching portrait to all who have seen upturned
+close to their own eyes the trusting and loving face of a beautiful son as he
+clung with strong boyish arms and affection to his mother’s neck.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Infant_Child_of_Francis_Hopkinson"></a>
+<img src="images/319.jpg" alt="Infant Child of Francis Hopkinson" />
+<p class="caption">Infant Child of Francis Hopkinson, “the Signer.” Painted by
+Francis Hopkinson.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+This little American boy, who became Lord Chancellor of England, wears a
+nankeen suit with a lilac-tinted sash. It is his beaver hat with gold hatband
+and blue feather that lies on the ground at the feet of the grandfather,
+Richard Clarke. The baby, held by the grandfather, wears a coral and bells on a
+lilac sash-ribbon; such a coral as we see in many portraits of infants. Another
+child in white-embroidered robe and dark yellow sash completes this beautiful
+family picture. Its great fault to me is the blue of Mrs. Copley’s gown, which
+is as vivid as a peacock’s breast. This painting is deemed Copley’s
+masterpiece; but an equal interest is that it is such an absolute and open
+expression of Copley’s lovable character and upright life. In it we can read
+his affectionate nature, his love of his sweet wife, his happy home-relations,
+and his pride in his beautiful children.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is ample proof, not only in the inventories which chance to be preserved,
+but in portraits of the times, that children’s dress in the eighteenth century
+was often costly. Of course the children of wealthy parents only would have
+their portraits painted; but their dress was as rich as the dress of the
+children of the nobility in England at the same time. You can see this in the
+colored reproduction of the portraits of Hon. James Bowdoin and his sister,
+Augusta, afterwards Lady Temple. That they were good likenesses is proved by
+the fact that the faces are strongly like those of the same persons in more
+mature years. You find little Augusta changed but slightly in matronhood in the
+fine pastel by Copley. In this portrait of the two Bowdoin children, the entire
+dress is given. Seldom are the shoes shown. These are interesting, for the
+boy’s square-toed black shoes with buckles are wholly unlike his sister’s blue
+morocco slippers with turned-up peaks and gilt ornaments from toe to instep,
+making a foot-gear much like certain Turkish slippers seen to-day. Her hair has
+the bedizenment of beads and feathers, which were worn by young girls for as
+many years as their mothers wore the same. The young lad’s dress is precisely
+like his father’s. There is much charm in these straight little figures. They
+have the aristocratic bearing which is a family trait of all of that kin. I
+should not deem Lady Temple ever a beauty, though she was called so by Manasseh
+Cutler, a minister who completely yielded to her charms when she was a
+grandmother and forty-four. This portrait of brother and sister is, I believe,
+by Blackburn. The dress is similar and the date the same as the portrait of the
+Misses Royall (one of whom became Lady Pepperell), which is by Blackburn.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="MarySeton1763"></a>
+<img src="images/321.jpg" alt="Mary Seton, 1763." />
+<p class="caption">Mary Seton, 1763.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The portrait of a charming little American child is shown <a
+href="#MarySeton1763">here</a>. This child, in feature, figure, and attitude,
+and even in the companionship of the kitten, is a curious replica of a famous
+English portrait of “Miss Trimmer.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have written at length in Chapter IV of a grandmother in the Hall family and
+of the Hall family connection. Let me tell of another grandmother, Madam Lydia
+Coleman, the daughter of the old Indian fighter, Captain Joshua Scottow. She,
+like Madam Symonds and Madam Stoddard, had had several husbands—Colonel
+Benjamin Gibbs, Attorney-General Anthony Checkley, and William Coleman. The
+Hall children were her grandchildren; and came to Boston for schooling at one
+time. Many letters exist of Hon. Hugh Hall to and from his grandmother, Madam
+Coleman. She writes thus.—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“As for Richard since I told him I would write to his Father he is more
+orderly, &amp;; he is very hungry, and has grown so much yt all his Clothes is
+too Little for him. He loves his book and his play too. I hired him to get a
+Chapter of ye Proverbs &amp;; give him a penny every Sabbath day, &amp;;
+promised him 5 shillings when he can say them all by heart. I would do my duty
+by his soul as well as his body.... He has grown a good boy and minds his
+School and Lattin and Dancing. He is a brisk Child &amp;; grows very Cute and
+wont wear his new silk coat yt was made for him. He wont wear it every day so
+yt I don’t know what to do with it. It wont make him a jackitt. I would have
+him a good husbander but he is but a child. For shoes, gloves, hankers &amp;;
+stockins, they ask very deare, 8 shillings for a paire &amp;; Richard takes no
+care of them. Richard wears out nigh 12 paire of shoes a year. He brought 12
+hankers with him and they have all been lost long ago; and I have bought him 3
+or 4 more at a time. His way is to tie knottys at one end &amp;; beat ye Boys
+with them and then to lose them &amp;; he cares not a bit what I will say to
+him.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Madam Coleman, after this handful, was given charge of his sister Sarah. When
+Missy arrived from the Barbadoes, she was eight years old. She brought with her
+a maid. The grandmother wrote back cheerfully to the parents that the child was
+well and brisk, as indeed she was. All the very young gentlemen and young
+ladies of Boston Brahmin blood paid her visits, and she gave a feast at a
+child’s dancing-party with the sweetmeats left over from her sea-store. Her
+stay in her grandmother’s household was surprisingly brief. She left unbidden
+with her maid, and went to a Mr. Binning’s to board; she sent home word to the
+Barbadoes that her grandmother made her drink water with her meals. Her brother
+wrote to Madam Coleman:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“We were all persuaded of your tender and hearty affection to my Sister when we
+recommended her to your parental care. We are sorry to hear of her Independence
+in removing from under the Benign Influences of your Wing &amp;; am surprised
+she dare do it without our leave or consent or that Mr. Binning receive her at
+his house before he knew how we were affected to it. We shall now desire Mr.
+Binning to resign her with her waiting maid to you and in our Letter to him
+have strictly ordered her to Return to your House.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+But no brother could control this spirited young damsel. Three months later a
+letter from Madam Coleman read thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Sally wont go to school nor to church and wants a nue muff and a great many
+other things she don’t need. I tell her fine things are cheaper in Barbadoes.
+She is well and brisk, says her Brother has nothing to do with her as long as
+her father is alive.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Hugh Hall wrote in return, saying his daughter ought to have one room to sleep
+in, and her maid another, that it was not befitting children of their station
+to drink water, they should have wine and beer. We cannot wonder that they
+dressed like their elders since they were treated like their elders in other
+respects.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The dress of very young girls was often extraordinarily rich. We find this
+order sent to London in 1739, for finery for Mary Cabell, daughter of Dr.
+William Cabell of Virginia, when she was but thirteen years old:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“1 Prayer Book (almost every such inventory had this item).<br/>
+1 Red Silk Petticoat.<br/>
+1 Very good broad Silver laced hat and hat-band.<br/>
+1 Pair Stays 17 inches round the waist.<br/>
+2 Pair fine Shoes.<br/>
+12 Pair fine Stockings.<br/>
+1 Hoop Petticoat.<br/>
+1 Pair Ear rings.<br/>
+1 Pair Clasps.<br/>
+3 Pair Silver Buttons set with Stones.<br/>
+1 Suit of Headclothes.<br/>
+4 Fine Handkerchiefs and Ruffles suitable.<br/>
+A Very handsome Knot and Girdle.<br/>
+A Fine Cloak and Short Apron.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="The_Bowdoin_Children."></a>
+<img src="images/325.jpg" alt="The Bowdoin Children." />
+<p class="caption">The Bowdoin Children. Lady Temple and Governor James Bowdoin
+in Childhood.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+I never read such a list as this without picturing the delight of little Mary
+Cabell when she opened the box containing all these pretty garments.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The order given by Colonel John Lewis for his young ward of eleven years
+old—another Virginia child—reads thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“A cap, ruffle, and tucker, the lace 5s. per yard.<br/>
+1 pair White Stays.<br/>
+8 pair White kid gloves.<br/>
+2 pair Colour’d kid gloves.<br/>
+2 pair worsted hose.<br/>
+3 pair thread hose.<br/>
+1 pair silk shoes laced.<br/>
+1 pair morocco shoes.<br/>
+4 pair plain Spanish shoes.<br/>
+2 pair calf shoes.<br/>
+1 Mask.<br/>
+1 Fan.<br/>
+1 Necklace.<br/>
+1 Girdle and Buckle.<br/>
+1 Piece fashionable Calico.<br/>
+4 yards Ribbon for Knots.<br/>
+1 Hoop Coat.<br/>
+1 Hat.<br/>
+1 1/2 Yard of Cambric.<br/>
+A Mantua and Coat of Slite Lustring.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Orders for purchases were regularly despatched to London agent by George
+Washington after his marriage. In 1761 he orders a full list of garments for
+both his stepchildren. “Miss Custis” was only six years old. These are some of
+the items:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“1 Coat made of Fashionable Silk.<br/>
+A Fashionable Cap or fillet with Bib apron.<br/>
+Ruffles and Tuckers, to be laced.<br/>
+4 Fashionable Dresses made of Long Lawn.<br/>
+2 Fine Cambrick Frocks.<br/>
+A Satin Capuchin, hat, and neckatees.<br/>
+A Persian Quilted Coat.<br/>
+1 p. Pack Thread Stays.<br/>
+4 p. Callimanco Shoes.<br/>
+6 p. Leather Shoes.<br/>
+2 p. Satin Shoes with flat ties.<br/>
+6 p. Fine Cotton Stockings.<br/>
+4 p. White Worsted Stockings.<br/>
+12 p. Mitts.<br/>
+6 p. White Kid Gloves.<br/>
+1 p. Silver Shoe Buckles.<br/>
+1 p. Neat Sleeve Buttons.<br/>
+6 Handsome Egrettes Different Sorts.<br/>
+6 Yards Ribbon for Egrettes.<br/>
+12 Yards Coarse Green Callimanco.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A Virginia gentleman, Colonel William Fleming, kept for several years a close
+account of the money he spent for his little daughters, who were young misses
+of ten and eleven in the year 1787. The most expensive single items are
+bonnets, each at &pound;;4 10s.; an umbrella, &pound;;2 8s. Cloth cloaks and
+saddles and bridles for riding were costly items. Tamboured muslin was at that
+time 18s. a yard; durant, 3s. 6d.; lutestring, 12s.; calico, 6s. 3d. Scarlet
+cloaks for each girl cost &pound;;2 14s. each. Other dress materials besides
+those named above were cambric, linen, cotton, osnaburgs, negro cotton,
+book-muslin, ermin, nankeen, persian, Turkey cotton, shalloon, and swanskin.
+There were many yards of taste and ribbon, black lace, and edgings, and
+gauze—gauze—gauze. A curious item several times appearing is a “paper bonnet,”
+not bonnet-paper, which latter was a constant purchase on women’s lists. There
+were pen-knives, “scanes of silk,” crooked combs, morocco shoes, “nitting
+pins,” constant “sticks of pomatum,” fans, “chanes,” a shawl, a tamboured coat,
+gloves, stockings, trunks, bands and clasps, tooth-brushes, silk gloves,
+necklaces, “fingered gloves,” silk stockings, handkerchiefs, china teacups and
+saucers and silver spoons. All these show a very generous outfit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the year 1770 a delightful, engaging little child came to Boston from Nova
+Scotia to live for a time with her aunt, a Boston gentlewoman, and to attend
+Boston schools. For the amusement of her parents so far away, and for practice
+in penmanship, she kept during the years 1771 and part of 1772 a diary. She was
+but ten years old when she began, but her intelligence and originality make
+this diary a valuable record of domestic life in Boston at that date. I have
+had the pleasure of publishing her diary with notes under the title, <i>Diary
+of Anna Green Winslow, a Boston School Girl, in the Year 1771</i>. I lived so
+much with her while transcribing her words that she seems almost like a child
+of my own. Like other unusual children she died young—when but nineteen. She
+was not so gifted and wonderful and rare a creature as that star among
+children, Marjorie Fleming, yet she was in many ways equally interesting; she
+was a frank, homely little flower of New England life destined never to grow
+old or weary, or tired or sad, but to live forever in eternal, happy childhood,
+through the magic living words in the hundred pages of her time-stained diary.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was of what Dr. Holmes called Boston Brahmin blood, was related to many of
+the wealthiest and best families of Boston and vicinity, and knew the best
+society. Dress was to her a matter of distinct importance, and her clothes were
+carefully fashionable. Her distress over wearing “an old red Domino” was
+genuine. We have in her words many references to her garments, and we find her
+dress very handsome. This is what she wore at a child’s party:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I was dressed in my yellow coat, black bib &amp;; apron, black feathers on my
+head, my past comb &amp;; all my past garnet, marquesett &amp;; jet pins,
+together with my silver plume—my loket, rings, black collar round my neck,
+black mitts &amp;; yards of blue ribbin (black &amp;; blue is high tast),
+striped tucker &amp;; ruffels (not my best) &amp;; my silk shoes completed my
+dress.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A few days later she writes:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I wore my black bib &amp;; apron, my pompedore shoes, the cap my Aunt Storer
+since presented me with (blue ribbins on it) &amp;; a very handsome locket in
+the shape of a hart she gave me, the past Pin my Hon’d Papa presented me with
+in my cap. My new cloak &amp;; bonnet, my pompedore gloves, &amp;;c. And I
+would tell you that <i>for the first time they all on lik’d my dress very
+much</i>. My cloak &amp;; bonnett are really very handsome &amp;; so they had
+need be. For they cost an amasing sight of money, not quite &pound;;45, tho’
+Aunt Suky said that she suppos’d Aunt Deming would be frighted out of her Wits
+at the money it cost. I have got <i>one</i> covering by the cost that is
+genteel &amp;; I like it much myself.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+As this was in the times of depreciated values, &pound;;45 was not so large a
+sum to expend for a girl’s outdoor garments as at first sight appears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She gives a very exact account of her successions of head-gear, some being
+borrowed finery. She apparently managed to rise entirely above the hated “black
+hatt” and red domino, which she patronizingly said would be “Decent for Common
+Occations.” She writes:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Last Thursday I purchased with my aunt Deming’s leave a very beautiful white
+feather hat, that is the outside, which is a bit of white hollowed with the
+feathers sew’d on in a most curious manner; white and unsully’d as the falling
+snow. As I am, as we say, a Daughter of Liberty I chuse to were as much of our
+own manufactory as pocible.... My Aunt says if I behave myself very well
+indeed, not else, she will give me a garland of flowers to orniment it, tho’
+she has layd aside the biziness of flower-making.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The dress described and portrayed of these children all seems very mature; but
+children were quickly grown up in colonial days. Cotton Mather wrote, “New
+English youth are very sharp and early ripe in their capacities.” They married
+early; though none of the “child-marriages” of England disfigure the pages of
+our history. Sturdy Endicott would not permit the marriage of his ward, Rebecca
+Cooper, an “inheritrice,”—though Governor Winthrop wished her for his
+nephew,—because the girl was but fifteen. I am surprised at this, for marriages
+at fifteen were common enough. My far-away grandmother, Mary Burnet, married
+William Browne, when she was fourteen; another grandmother, Mary Philips,
+married her cousin at thirteen, and there is every evidence that the match was
+arranged with little heed of the girl’s wishes. It was the happiest of
+marriages. Boys became men by law when sixteen. Winthrop named his son as
+executor of his will when the boy was fourteen—but there were few boys like
+that boy. We find that the Virginia tutor who taught in the Carter family just
+previous to the war of the Revolution deemed a young lady of thirteen no longer
+a child.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Miss_Lydia_Robinson"></a>
+<img src="images/331.jpg" alt="Miss Lydia Robinson, aged 12 Years" />
+<p class="caption">Miss Lydia Robinson, aged 12 Years, Daughter of Colonel
+James Robinson. Marked “Corné pinxt, Sept. 1805.”
+</p></div>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Miss Betsy Lee is about thirteen, a tall, slim, genteel girl. She is very far
+from Miss Hale’s taciturnity, yet is by no means disagreeably Forward. She
+dances extremely well, and is just beginning to play the Spinet. She is dressed
+in a neat Shell Callico Gown, has very light Hair done up with a Feather, and
+her whole carriage is Inoffensive, Easy and Graceful.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The christening of an infant was not only a sacrament of the church, and thus
+of highest importance, but it was also of secular note. It was a time of great
+rejoicing, of good wishes, of gift-making. In mediaeval times, the child was
+arrayed by the priest in a white robe which had been anointed with sacred oil,
+and called a chrismale, or a chrisom. If the child died within a month, it was
+buried in this robe and called a chrisom-child. The robe was also called a
+christening palm or pall. When the custom of redressing the child in a robe at
+the altar had passed away, the christening palm still was used and was thrown
+over the child when it was brought out to receive visitors. This robe was also
+termed a bearing-cloth, a christening sheet, and a cade-cloth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This fine coverlet of state, what we would now call a christening blanket, was
+usually made of silk; often it was richly embroidered, sometimes with a text of
+Scripture. It was generally lace-bordered, or edged with a narrow, home-woven
+silk fringe. The christening-blanket of Governor Bradford of the Plymouth
+Colony still is owned by a descendant; it is whole of fabric and unfaded of
+dye. It is rich crimson silk, soft of texture, like heavy sarcenet silk, and is
+powdered at regular distances about six inches apart with conventional sprays
+of flowers, embroidered chiefly in pink and yellow, in minute silk
+cross-stitch. Another beautiful silk christening blanket was quilted in an
+intricate flower pattern in almost imperceptible stitches. Another of yellow
+satin has a design in white floss that gives it the appearance of being trimmed
+with white silk lace. Best of all was to embroider the cloth with designs and
+initials and emblems and biblical references. A coat-of-arms or crest was very
+elegant. The words, “God Bless the Babe,” were not left wholly to the
+pincushions which every babe had given him or her, but appeared on the
+christening blanket. A curious design shown me was called <i>The Tree of
+Knowledge</i>. The figure of a child in cap, apron, bib, and hanging sleeves
+stands pointing to a tree upon which grew books as though they were apples. The
+open pages of each book-apple is printed with a title, as, <i>The New England
+Primer, Lilly’s Grammar, Janeway’s Holy Children, The Prodigal Daughter.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An inventory of the christening garments of a child in the seventeenth century
+reads thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“1. A lined white figured satin cap.<br/>
+2. A lined white satin cap embroidered in sprays with gold coloured silk.<br/>
+3. A white satin palm embroidered in sprays of yellow silk to match. This is 44
+inches by 34 inches in size.<br/>
+4. A palm of rich ‘still yellow’ silk lined with white satin. This is 54 inches
+by 48 inches in size.<br/>
+5. A pair of deep cuffs of white satin, lace trimmed and embroidered.<br/>
+6. A pair of linen mittens trimmed with narrow lace, the back of the fingers
+outlined with yellow silk figures.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Knitted_Flaxen_Mittens."></a>
+<img src="images/334.jpg" alt="Knitted Flaxen Mittens." />
+<p class="caption">Knitted Flaxen Mittens.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The satin cuffs were for the wear of the older person who carried the child.
+The infant was placed upon the larger palm or cloth, and the smaller one thrown
+over him, over his petticoats. The inner cap was very tight to the head. The
+outer was embroidered; often it turned back in a band.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a significance in the use of yellow; it is the altar color for
+certain church festivals, and was proper for the pledging of the child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All these formalities of christening in the Church of England were not
+abandoned by the Separatists. New England children were just as carefully
+christened and dressed for christening as any child in the Church of England.
+In the reign of James I tiny shirts with little bands or sleeves or cuffs
+wrought in silk or in coventry-blue thread were added to the gift of spoons
+from the sponsors. I have one of these little coventry-blue embroidered things
+with quaint little sleeves; too faded, I regret, to reveal any pattern to the
+camera.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The christening shirts and mittens given by the sponsors are said to be a relic
+of the ancient custom of presenting white clothes to the neophytes when
+converted to Christianity. These “Christening Sets” are preserved in many
+families.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of the dress of infants of colonial times we can judge from the articles of
+clothing which have been preserved till this day. These are of course the
+better garments worn by babies, not their everyday dress; their simpler attire
+has not survived, but their christening robes, their finer shirts and
+petticoats and caps remain.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._Elizabeth_Lux_Russell_and_Daughter"></a>
+<img src="images/336.jpg" alt="Mrs. Elizabeth Lux Russell and Daughter." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Elizabeth Lux Russell and Daughter.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Linen formed the chilling substructure of their dress, thin linen, low-necked,
+short-sleeved shirts; and linen remained the underwear of infants until thirty
+years ago. I do not wonder that these little linen shirts were worn for
+centuries. They are infinitely daintier than the finest silk or woollen
+underwear that have succeeded them; they are edged with narrowest thread lace,
+and hemstitched with tiny rows of stitches or corded with tiny cords, and
+sometimes embroidered by hand in minute designs. They were worn by all babies
+from the time of James I, never varying one stitch in shape; but I fear this
+pretty garment of which our infants were bereft a few years ago will never
+crowd out the warm, present-day silk wear. This wholly infantile article of
+childish dress had tiny little revers or collarettes or laps made to turn over
+outside the robe or slip like a minute bib, and these laps were beautifully
+oversewn where the corners joined the shirt, to prevent tearing down at this
+seam. These tiny shirts were the dearest little garments ever made or dreamed
+of. When a baby had on a fresh, corded slip, low of neck, with short, puffed
+sleeve, and the tiny hemstitched laps were turned down outside the neck of the
+slip, and the little sleeves were caught up by fine strings of gold-clasped
+pink coral, the baby’s dimpled shoulders and round head rose up out of the
+little shirt-laps like some darling flower.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have seen an infant’s shirt and a cap embroidered on the laps with the
+coat-of-arms of the Lux and Johnson families and the motto, “God Bless the
+Babe;” these delicate garments, the work of fairies, were worn in infancy by
+the Revolutionary soldier, Governor Johnson of Virginia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the Essex Institute in Salem, Massachusetts, are the baptismal shirt and
+mittens of the Pilgrim father, William Bradford, second governor of the
+Plymouth colony, who was born in 1590. They are shown <a
+href="#Christening_Shirt_and_Mitts_of_Governor_Bradford">here</a>. All are of
+firm, close-woven, homespun linen, but the little mittens have been worn at the
+ends by the active friction of baby hands, and are patched with red and yellow
+figured “chiney” or calico. A similar colored material frills the sleeves and
+neck. This may have been part of their ornamentation when first made, but it
+looks extraneous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sleeves of this shirt are plaited or goffered in a way that seems wholly
+lost; this is what I have already described—<i>pinching</i>. I have seen the
+sleeve of a child’s dress thus pinched which had been worn by a little girl
+aged three. The wrist-cuff measured about five inches around, and was stoutly
+corded. Upon ripping the sleeve apart, it was found that the strip of fine mull
+which was thus pinched into the sleeve was two yards in length. The cuff flared
+slightly, else even this length of sheer lawn could not have been confined at
+the wrist. In the so-called “Museum,” gloomily scattered around the famous old
+South Church edifice in Boston, are fine examples of this pinched work.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Christening_Shirt_and_Mitts_of_Governor_Bradford"></a>
+<img src="images/338.jpg" alt="Christening Shirt and Mitts of Governor
+Bradford." />
+<p class="caption">Christening Shirt and Mitts of Governor Bradford.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Many of the finest existing specimens of old guipure, Flanders, and needlepoint
+laces in England and America are preserved on the ancient shirts, mitts, caps,
+and bearing-cloths of infants. Often there is a little padded bib of guipure
+lace accompanied with tiny mittens like these.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Flanders_Lace_Mitts."></a>
+<img src="images/339.jpg" alt="Flanders Lace Mitts." />
+<p class="caption">Flanders Lace Mitts.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+This pair was wrought and worn in the sixteenth century, and the stitches and
+work are those of the Flanders point laces. I have seen tiny mitts knitted of
+silk, of fine linen thread, also made of linen, hem-stitched, or worked in
+drawn-work, or embroidered, and one pair of mittens, and the cap that matched
+was of tatting-work done in the finest of thread. No needlepoint could be more
+beautiful. Some are shown on <a href="#Flanders_Lace_Mitts.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mitts of yellow nankeen or silk, made with long wrists or arms, were also worn
+by babies, and must have proved specially irritating to tiny little hands and
+arms. These had the seams sewed over and over with colored silks in a curiously
+intricate netted stitch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have an infant’s cap with two squares of lace set in the crown, one over each
+ear. The lace is of a curious design; a conventionalized vase or urn on a
+standard. I recognize it as the lace and pattern known as “pot-lace,” made for
+centuries at Antwerp, and worn there by old women on their caps with a devotion
+to a single pattern that is unparalleled. It was the “flower-pot” symbol of the
+Annunciation. The earliest representation of the Angel Gabriel in the
+Annunciation showed him with lilies in his hand; then these lilies were set in
+a vase. In years the angel has disappeared and then the lilies, and the
+lily-pot only remains. It is a whimsical fancy that this symbol of Romanism
+should have been carefully transferred to adorn the pate of a child of the
+Puritans. The place of the medallion, set over each ear, is so unusual that I
+think it must have had some significance. I wonder whether they were ever set
+thus in caps of heavy silk or linen to let the child hear more readily, as he
+certainly would through the thin lace net.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word “beguine” meant a nun; and thus derivatively a nun’s close cap. This
+was altered in spelling to biggin, and for a time a nun’s plain linen cap was
+thus called. By Shakespere’s day biggin had become wholly a term for a child’s
+cap. It was a plain phrase and a plain cap of linen. Shakespere calls them
+“homely biggens.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have seen it stated that the biggin was a night-cap. When Queen Elizabeth
+lost her mother, Anne Boleyn, she was but three years old, a neglected little
+creature. A lady of the court wrote that the child had “no manner of linen, nor
+for-smocks, nor kerchiefs, nor rails, nor body-stitches, nor handkerchiefs, nor
+sleeves, nor mufflers, nor biggins.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1636 Mary Dudley, the daughter of Governor John Winthrop, had a little baby.
+She did not live in Boston town, therefore her mother had to purchase supplies
+for her; and many letters crossed, telling of wants, and their relief. “Holland
+for biggins” was eagerly sought. At that date all babies wore caps. I mean
+English and French, Dutch and Spanish, all mothers deemed it unwise and almost
+improper for a young baby ever to be seen bare-headed. With the imperfect
+heating and many draughts in all the houses, this mode of dress may have been
+wholly wise and indeed necessary. Every child’s head was covered, as the
+pictures of children in this book show, until he or she was several years old.
+The finest needlework and lace stitches were lavished on these tiny infants’
+caps, which were not, when thus adorned and ornamented, called biggins.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="InfantsAdjustableCap"></a>
+<img src="images/341.jpg" alt="Infant’s Adjustable Cap." />
+<p class="caption">Infant’s Adjustable Cap.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+A favorite trimming for night-caps and infants’ caps is a sort of quilting in a
+leaf and vine pattern, done with a white cord inserted between outer and inner
+pieces of linen—a cord stuffing, as it were. It does not seem oversuited for
+caps to be worn in bed or by little infants, as the stiff cords must prove a
+disagreeable cushion. This work was done as early as the seventeenth century;
+but nearly all the pieces preserved were made in the early years of the
+nineteenth century in the revival of needlework then so universal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Often a velvet cap was worn outside the biggin or lace cap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have never seen a woollen petticoat that was worn by an infant of
+pre-Revolutionary days. I think infants had no woollen petticoats; their
+shirts, petticoats, and gowns were of linen or some cotton stuff like dimity.
+Warmth of clothing was given by tiny shawls pinned round the shoulders, and
+heavier blankets and quilts and shawls in which baby and petticoats were wholly
+enveloped.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The baby dresses of olden times are either rather shapeless sacques drawn in at
+the neck with narrow cotton ferret or linen bobbin, or little straight-waisted
+gowns of state. All were exquisitely made by hand, and usually of fine stuff.
+Many are trimmed with fine cording.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is astounding to note the infinite number of stitches put in garments. An
+infant’s slips quilted with a single tiny backstitch in a regular design of
+interlaced squares, stars, and rounds. By counting the number of rounds and the
+stitches in each, and so on, it has been found that there are 397,000 stitches
+in that dress. Think of the time spent even by the quickest sewer over such a
+piece of work.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Within a few years we have shortened the long clothes worn by youngest infants;
+twenty-five years ago the handsome dress of an infant, such as the
+christening-robe, was so long that when the child was held on the arm of its
+standing nurse or mother, the edge of the robe barely escaped touching the
+ground. Two hundred years ago, a baby’s dress was much shorter. In the family
+group of Charles I and Henrietta Maria and their children, in the Copley family
+picture, and in the picture of the Cadwalader family, we find the little baby
+in scarce “three-quarters length” of robe. With this exception it is
+astonishing to find how little infants’ dress has changed during the two
+centuries. In 1889, at the Stuart Exhibition, some of the infant dresses of
+Charles I were shown. They had been preserved in the family of Sir Thomas
+Coventry, Lord Keeper. And Charles II’s baby linen was on view in the New
+Gallery in 1901. Both sets had the dainty little shirts, slips, bibs, mitts,
+and all the babies’ dress of fifty years ago, and the changes since then have
+been few. The “barrow-coat,” a square of flannel wrapped around an infant’s
+body below the arms with the part below the feet turned up and pinned, was part
+of the old swaddling-clothes; and within ten years it has been largely
+abandoned for a flannel petticoat on a band or waist. The bands, or binders,
+have always been the same as to-day, and the bibs. The lace cuffs and lace
+mittens were left off before the caps. The shirt is the most important change.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nowadays a little infant wears long clothes till three, four, or even eight
+months old; then he is put in short dresses about as long as he is. In colonial
+days when a boy was taken from his swaddling-clothes, he was dressed in a short
+frock with petticoats and was “coated” or sometimes “short-coated.” When he
+left off coats, he donned breeches. In families of sentiment and affection, the
+“coating” of a boy was made a little festival. So was also the assumption of
+breeches an important event—as it really is, as we all know who have boys.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One of the most charming of all grandmothers’ letters was written by a doting
+English grandmother to her son. Lord Chief Justice North, telling of the
+“leaving off of coats” of his motherless little son, Francis Guilford, then six
+years old. The letter is dated October 10, 1679:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“DEAR SON:<br/>
+You cannot beleeve the great concerne that was in the whole family here last
+Wednesday, it being the day that the taylor was to helpe to dress little ffrank
+in his breeches in order to the making an everyday suit by it. Never had any
+bride that was to be drest upon her weding night more handes about her, some
+the legs, some the armes, the taylor butt’ning, and others putting on the
+sword, and so many lookers on that had I not a ffinger amongst I could not have
+seen him. When he was quite drest he acted his part as well as any of them for
+he desired he might goe downe to inquire for the little gentleman that was
+there the day before in a black coat, and speak to the man to tell the
+gentleman when he came from school that there was a gallant with very fine
+clothes and a sword to have waited upon him and would come again upon Sunday
+next. But this was not all, there was great contrivings while he was dressing
+who should have the first salute; but he sayd if old Joan had been here, she
+should, but he gave it to me to quiett them all. They were very fitt,
+everything, and he looks taller and prettyer than in his coats. Little Charles
+rejoyced as much as he did for he jumpt all the while about him and took notice
+of everything. I went to Bury, and bot everything for another suitt which will
+be finisht on Saturday so the coats are to be quite left off on Sunday. I
+consider it is not yett terme time and since you could not have the pleasure of
+the first sight, I resolved you should have a full relation from<br/>
+<br/>
+    “Yo’r most Aff’nate Mother<br/>
+<br/>
+    “A. North.<br/>
+<br/>
+“When he was drest he asked Buckle whether muffs were out of fashion because
+they had not sent him one.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This affectionate letter, written to a great and busy statesman, the Lord
+Keeper of the Seals, shows how pure and delightful domestic life in England
+could be; it shows how beautiful it was after Puritanism perfected the English
+home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In an old family letter dated 1780 I find this sentence:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Mary is most wise with her child, and hath no new-fangledness. She has little
+David in what she wore herself, a pudding and pinner.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+For a time these words “pudding and pinner” were a puzzle; and long after
+pinner was defined we could not even guess at a pudding. But now I know two
+uses of the word “pudding” which are in no dictionary. One is the stuffing of a
+man’s great neck-cloth in front, under the chin. The other is a thick roll or
+cushion stuffed with wool or some soft filling and furnished with strings. This
+pudding was tied round the head of a little child while it was learning to
+walk. The head was thus protected from serious bruises or injury. Nollekens
+noted with satisfaction such a pudding on the head of an infant, and said:
+“That is right. I always wore a pudding, and all children should.” I saw one
+upon a child’s head last summer in a New England town; I asked the mother what
+it was, and she answered, “A pudding-cap”; that it made children soft (idiotic)
+to bump the head frequently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word “pinner” has two meanings. The earlier use was precisely that of
+pinafore, or pincurtle, or pincloth—a child’s apron. Thus we read in the
+Harvard College records, of the expenses of the year 1677, of “Linnen Cloth for
+Table Pinners,” which makes us suspect that Harvard students of that day had to
+wear bibs at commons.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All children wore aprons, which might be called pinners; these were aprons with
+pinned-up bibs; or they might be tiers, which were sleeved aprons covering the
+whole waist, sleeves, and skirt, an outer slip, buttoned in the back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A severe and ancient moralist looked forth from her window in Worcester, one
+day last spring, at a band of New England children running to their morning
+school. She gazed over her glasses reprovingly, and turned to me with
+bitterness: “There they go! <i>Such</i> mothers as they must have! Not a pinner
+nor a sleeved tier among ’em.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sleeved tier occupied a singular place in childish opinion in my youth; and
+I find the same feeling anent it had existed for many generations. It was hated
+by all children, regarded as something to be escaped from at the earliest
+possible date. You had to wear sleeved tiers as you had to have the mumps. It
+was a thing to endure with what childish patience and fortitude you could
+command for a short time; but thoughtful, tender parents would not make you
+suffer it long.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were aprons, and aprons. Pinners and tiers were for use, but there were
+elegant aprons for ornament. Did not Queen Anne wear one? Even babies wore
+them. The little Padishal child has one richly laced. I have seen a beautiful
+apron for a little child of three. It was edged with a straight insertion of
+Venetian point like that pictured <a href="#Old_Venice_Point_Lace.">here</a>.
+It had been made in 1690. Tender affection for a beloved and beautiful little
+child preserved it in one trunk in the same attic for sixty-five years; and a
+beautiful sympathy for that mother’s long sorrow kept the apron untouched by
+young lace-lovers. This lace has white horsehair woven into the edge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We find George Washington ordering for his little stepdaughter (a well-dressed
+child if ever there was one), when she was six years old, “A fashionable cap or
+fillet with bib apron.” And a few years later he orders, “Tuckers, Bibs, and
+Aprons if Fashionable.” Boys wore aprons as long as they wore coats; aprons
+with stomachers or bibs of drawn-work and lace, or of stiffly starched lawn;
+aprons just like those of their sisters. It was hard to bear. Hoop-coat, masks,
+packthread stays—these seem strange dress for growing girls.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+George Washington sent abroad for masks for his wife and his little
+stepdaughter, “Miss Custis,” when the little girl was six years old; and
+“children’s masks” are often named in bills of sale. Loo-masks were small
+half-masks, and were also imported in all sizes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The face of Mrs. Madison, familiarly known as “Dolly Madison,” wife of
+President James Madison, long retained the beauty of youth. Much of this was
+surely due to a faithful mother, who, when little Dolly Payne was sent to
+school, sewed a sun-bonnet on the child’s head every morning, placed on her
+arms and hands long gloves, and made her wear a mask to keep every ray of
+sunlight from her face. When masks were so universally worn by women, it is not
+strange, after all, that children wore them.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Rev._J.P._Dabney_when_a_Child."></a>
+<img src="images/348.jpg" alt="Rev. J.P. Dabney when a Child." />
+<p class="caption">Rev. J.P. Dabney when a Child.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+I read with horror an advertisement of John McQueen, a New York stay-maker in
+1767, that he has children’s packthread stays, children’s bone stays, and “neat
+polished steel collars for young Misses so much worn at the boarding schools in
+London.” Poor little “young Misses”!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were also “turned stays, jumps, gazzets, costrells and caushets” (which
+were perhaps corsets) to make children appear straight. Costrells and gazzets
+we know not to-day. Jumps were feeble stays.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Now a shape in neat stays<br/>
+Now a slattern in jumps.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Robert_Gibbes."></a>
+<img src="images/349.jpg" alt="Robert Gibbes." />
+<p class="caption">Robert Gibbes.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Jumps were allied to jimps, and perhaps to jupe; and I think jumper is a cousin
+of a word. One pair of stays I have seen is labelled as having been made for a
+boy of five. One of the worst instruments of torture I ever beheld was a pair
+of child’s stays worn in 1760. They were made, not of little strips of wood,
+but of a large piece of board, front and back, tightly sewed into a buckram
+jacket and re&euml;nforced across at right angles and diagonally over the hips
+(though really there were no hip-places) with bars of whalebone and steel. The
+tin corsets I have heard of would not have been half as ill to wear. It is
+true, too, that needles were placed in the front of the stays, that the
+stay-wearer who “poked her head” would be well pricked. The daughter of General
+Nathanael Greene, the Revolutionary patriot, told her grandchildren that she
+sat many hours every day in her girlhood, with her feet in stocks and strapped
+to a backboard. A friend has a chair of ordinary size, save that the seat is
+about four inches wide from the front edge of seat to the back. And the back is
+well worn at certain points where a heavy leather strap strapped up the young
+girl who was tortured in it for six years of her life. The result of back
+board, stocks, steel collar, wooden stays, is shown in such figures as have
+Dorothy Q. and her sister Elizabeth. Elizabeth Storer, on page 98 of my
+<i>Child Life in Colonial Days</i>, is an extreme example, straight-backed
+indeed, but narrow-chested to match.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dr. Holmes wrote in jest, but he wrote in truth, too:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“They braced My Aunt against a board<br/>
+      To make her straight and tall,<br/>
+ They laced her up, they starved her down,<br/>
+      To make her light and small.<br/>
+ They pinched her feet, they singed her hair,<br/>
+      They screwed it up with pins,<br/>
+ Oh, never mortal suffered more<br/>
+      In penance for her sins.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Nankeen_Breeches_with_Silver_Buttons."></a>
+<img src="images/351.jpg" alt="Nankeen Breeches with Silver Buttons." />
+<p class="caption">Nankeen Breeches with Silver Buttons.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Nankeen was the favorite wear for boys, even before the Revolution. The little
+figure of the boy who became Lord Lyndhurst, shown in the Copley family
+portrait, is dressed in nankeen; he is the engaging, loving child looking up in
+his mother’s face. Nankeen was worn summer and winter by men, and women, and
+children. If it were deemed too thin and too damp a wear for delicate children
+in extreme winters, then a yellow color in wool was preferred for children’s
+dress. I have seen a little pair of breeches of yellow flannel made precisely
+like these nankeen breeches on this page. They were worn in 1768. Carlyle in
+his <i>Sartor Resartus</i> gives this account of the childhood of the professor
+and philosopher of his book:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“My first short clothes were of yellow serge; or rather, I should say, my first
+short cloth; for the vesture was one and indivisible, reaching from neck to
+ankle; a single body with four limbs; of which fashion how little could I then
+divine the architectural, much less the moral significance.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Ralph_Izard_when_a_Little_Boy._1750."></a>
+<img src="images/352.jpg" alt="Ralph Izard when a Little Boy. 1750." />
+<p class="caption">Ralph Izard when a Little Boy. 1750.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It is a curious coincidence that a great philosopher of our own world wore a
+precisely similar dress in his youth. Madam Mary Bradford writes in a private
+letter, at the age of one hundred and three, of her life in 1805 in the
+household of Rev. Joseph Emerson. Ralph Waldo Emerson was then a little child
+of two years, and he and his brother William till several years old were
+dressed wholly in yellow flannel, by night and by day. When they put on
+trousers, which was at about the age of seven, they wore complete home-made
+suits of nankeen. The picture amuses me of the philosophical child, Ralph
+Waldo, walking soberly around in ugly yellow flannel, contentedly sucking his
+thumb; for Mrs. Bradford records that he was the hardest child to break of
+sucking his thumb whom she ever had seen during her long life. I cannot help
+wondering whether in their soul-to-soul talks Emerson ever told Carlyle of the
+yellow woollen dress of his childhood, and thus gave him the thought of the
+child’s dress for his philosopher.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Fortunately for the children who were our grandparents. French fashions were
+not absorbingly the rage in America until after some amelioration of dress had
+come to French children. Mercier wrote at length at the close of the eighteenth
+century of the abominable artificiality and restraint in dress of French
+children; their great wigs, full-skirted coats, immense ruffles, swords on
+thigh, and hat in hand. He contrasts them disparagingly with English boys. The
+English boy was certainly more robust, but I find no difference in dress. Wigs,
+swords, ruffles, may be seen at that time both in English and American
+portraits. But an amelioration of dress did come to both English and American
+boys through the introduction of pantaloons, and a change to little girls’
+dress through the invention of pantalets, but the changes came first to France,
+in spite of Mercier’s animadversions. These changes will be left until the
+later pages of this book; for during nearly all the two hundred years of which
+I write children’s dress varied little. It followed the changes of the parent’s
+dress, and adopted some modes to a degree but never to an extreme.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>PERUKES AND PERIWIGS</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“As to a Periwigg, my best and Greatest Friend begun to find me with Hair
+before I was Born, and has continued to do so ever since, and I could not find
+it in my Heart to go to another.”<br/>
+</i> <br/>
+—“Diary,” JUDGE SAMUEL SEWALL, 1718.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>A phrensy or a periwigmanee<br/>
+That over-runs his pericranie.</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—JOHN BYRON, 1730 (circa).
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>PERUKES AND PERIWIGS</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="95" src="images/initialt.jpg" alt="T" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+o-day, when every man, save a football player or some eccentric reformer or
+religious fanatic, displays in youth a close-cropped head, and when even hoary
+age is seldom graced with flowing, silvery locks, when women’s hair is dressed
+in simplicity, we can scarcely realize the important and formal part the hair
+played in the dress of the eighteenth century.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the great eagerness shown from earliest colonial days to acquire and
+reproduce in the New World every change of mode in the Old, to purchase rich
+dress, and to assume novel dress, no article was sought for more speedily and
+more anxiously than the wig. It has proved an interesting study to compare the
+introduction of wigs in England with the wear of the same form of head-gear in
+America. Wigs were not in general use in England when Plymouth and Boston were
+settled; though in Elizabeth’s day a “peryuke” had been bought for the court
+fool. They were not in universal wear till the close of the seventeenth
+century.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The “Wig Mania” arose in France in the reign of Louis XV. In 1656 the king had
+forty court perruquiers, who were termed and deemed artists, and had their
+academy. The wigs they produced were superb. It is told that one cost
+&pound;;200, a sum equal in purchasing power to-day to $5000. The French
+statesman and financier, Colbert, aghast at the vast sums spent for foreign
+hair, endeavored to introduce a sort of cap to supplant the wig, but fashions
+are not made that way.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_and_Reverend_Gurdon_Saltonstall."></a>
+<img src="images/356.jpg" alt="Governor and Reverend Gurdon Saltonstall." />
+<p class="caption">Governor and Reverend Gurdon Saltonstall.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+For information of English manners and customs in that day, I turn (and never
+in vain) to those fascinating volumes, the <i>Verney Memoirs</i>. From them I
+learn this of early wig-wearing by Englishmen; that Sir Ralph Verney, though in
+straitened circumstances during his enforced residence abroad, felt himself
+compelled to follow the French mode, which at that period, 1646, had not
+reached England. That exemplary gentleman paid twelve livres for a wig, when he
+was sadly short of money for household necessaries. It was an elaborate wig,
+curled in great rings, with two locks tied with black ribbon, and made without
+any parting at the back. This wig was powdered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sir Ralph wrote to his wife that a good hair-powder was very difficult to get
+and costly, even in France. It was an appreciable addition to the weight of the
+wig and to the expense, large quantities being used, sometimes as much as two
+pounds at a time. It added not only to the expense, but to the discomfort,
+inconvenience, and untidiness of wig-wearing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pomatum made of fat, and that sometimes rancid, was used to make the powder
+stick; and noxious substances were introduced into the powder, as a certain
+kind is mentioned which must not be used alone, for it would produce headache.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Charles II was the earliest king represented on the Great Seal wearing a large
+periwig. Dr. Doran assures us that the king did not bring the fashion to
+Whitehall. “He forbade,” we are told, “the members of the Universities to wear
+periwigs, smoke tobacco, or read their sermons. The members did all three, and
+Charles soon found himself doing the first two.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mayor_Rip_Van_Dam."></a>
+<img src="images/357.jpg" alt="Mayor Rip Van Dam." />
+<p class="caption">Mayor Rip Van Dam.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Pepys’s <i>Diary</i> contains much interesting information concerning the wigs
+of this reign. On 2d of November, 1663, he writes: “I heard the Duke say that
+he was going to wear a periwig, and says the King also will, never till this
+day observed that the King is mighty gray.” It was doubtless this change in the
+color of his Majesty’s hair that induced him to assume the head-dress he had
+previously so strongly condemned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The wig he adopted was very voluminous, richly curled, and black. He was very
+dark. “Odds fish! but I’m an ugly black fellow!” he said of himself when he
+looked at his portrait. Loyal colonists quickly followed royal example and
+complexion. We have very good specimens of this curly black wig in many
+American portraits.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As might be expected, and as befitted one who delighted to be in fashion, Pepys
+adopted this wig. He took time to consider the matter, and had consultations
+with Mr. Jervas, his old barber, about the affair. Referring to one of his
+visits to his hairdresser, Pepys says:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I did try two or three borders and periwigs, meaning to wear one, and yet I
+have no stomach for it; but that the pains of keeping my hair clean is great.
+He trimmed me, and at last I parted, but my mind was almost altered from my
+first purpose, from the trouble which I foresee in wearing them also.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Weeks passed before he could make up his mind to wear a wig. Mrs. Pepys was
+taken to the periwig-maker’s shop to see one, and expressed her satisfaction
+with it. We read in April, 1665, of the wig being back at Jervas’s under
+repair. Later, under date of September 3d, he writes:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Lord’s day. Up; and put on my coloured silk suit, very fine, and my new
+periwig, bought a good while since, but durst not wear, because the plague was
+in Westminster when I bought it; and it is a wonder what will be in fashion,
+after the plague is done, as to periwigs, for nobody will dare to buy any hair,
+for fear of the infection, that it had been cut off the heads of people dead of
+the plague.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In 1670, only, five years after this entry of Pepys, we find Governor Barefoot
+of New Hampshire wearing a periwig; and in 1675 the court of Massachusetts, in
+view of the distresses of the Indian wars, denounced the “manifest pride openly
+appearing amongst us in that long hair, like women’s hair is worn by some men,
+either their own hair, or others’ hair made into periwigs.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Abraham_De_Peyster."></a>
+<img src="images/359.jpg" alt="Abraham De Peyster." />
+<p class="caption">Abraham De Peyster.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In 1676 Wait Winthrop sent a wig (price &pound;;3) to his brother in New
+London. Mr. Sergeant had brought it from England for his own use; but was
+willing to sell it to oblige a friend, who was, I am confident, very devoted to
+wig-wearing. The largest wig that I recall upon any colonist’s head is in the
+portrait of Governor Fitz-John Winthrop. He is painted in armor; and a great
+wig never seems so absurd as when worn with armor. Horace Walpole said,
+“Perukes of outrageous length flowing over suits of armour compose wonderful
+habits.” An edge of Winthrop’s own dark hair seems to show under the wig front.
+I do not know the precise date of this portrait. It was, of course, painted in
+England. He served in the Parliamentary army with General Monck; returned to
+New England in 1663, and was commander of the New England forces. He spent 1693
+to l697 in England as commissioner. Sir Peter Lely and Sir Godfrey Kneller both
+were painting in England in those years, and both were constant in painting men
+with armor and perukes. This portrait seems like Kneller’s work.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Governor_De_Bienville."></a>
+<img src="images/360.jpg" alt="Governor De Bienville." />
+<p class="caption">Governor De Bienville.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Another portrait attired also in armor and peruke is of Sir Nathaniel Johnson,
+who was appointed governor of South Carolina by the Lords Proprietors in 1702.
+The portrait was painted in 1705. It is one of the few of that date which show
+a faint mustache; he likewise wears a seal ring with coat-of-arms on the little
+finger of his left hand, which was unusual at that day. De Bienville, the
+governor of Louisiana, is likewise in wig and armor. In 1682 Thomas Richbell
+died in Boston, leaving a very rich and costly wardrobe. He had eight wigs. Of
+these, three were small periwigs worth but a pound apiece. In New York, in
+Virginia, in all the colonies, these wigs were worn, and were just as large and
+costly, as elaborately curled, as heavily powdered, as at the English and
+French courts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Archbishop Tillotson is usually regarded as the first amongst the English
+clergy to adopt the wig. He said in one of his sermons:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“I can remember since the wearing of hair below the ears was looked upon as a
+sin of the first magnitude, and when ministers generally, whatever their text
+was, did either find or make occasion to reprove the great sin of long hair;
+and if they saw any one in the congregation guilty in that kind, they would
+point him out particularly, and let fly at him with great zeal.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Dr. Tillotson died on November 24, 1694.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Daniel_Waldo."></a>
+<img src="images/361.jpg" alt="Daniel Waldo." />
+<p class="caption">Daniel Waldo.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Long before that American preachers had felt it necessary to “let fly” also; to
+denounce wig-wearing from their pulpits. The question could not be settled,
+since the ministers themselves could not agree. John Wilson, the zealous Boston
+minister, wore one, and John Cotton (see <a
+href="#Reverend_John_Cotton.">here</a>); while Rev. Mr. Noyes preached long and
+often against the fashion. John Eliot, the noble preacher and missionary to the
+Indians, found time even in the midst of his arduous and incessant duties to
+deliver many a blast against “prolix locks,”—“with boiling zeal,” as Cotton
+Mather said,—and he labelled them a “luxurious feminine protexity”; but
+lamented late in life that “the lust for wigs is become insuperable.” He
+thought the horrors in King Philip’s War were a direct punishment from God for
+wig-wearing. Increase Mather preached warmly against wigs, calling them “Horrid
+Bushes of Vanity,” and saying that “such Apparel is contrary to the light of
+Nature, and to express Scripture,” and that “Monstrous Periwigs such as some of
+our church members indulge in make them resemble ye locusts that came out of ye
+Bottomless Pit.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Rev. George Weeks preached a sermon on impropriety in clothes. He said in
+regard to wig-wearing:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“We have no warrant in the word of God, that I know of, for our wearing of
+Periwigs except it be in extraordinary cases. Elisha did not cover his head
+with a Perriwigg altho’ it was bald. To see the greater part of Men in some
+congregations wearing Perriwiggs is a matter of deep lamentation. For either
+all these men had a necessity to cut off their Hair or else not. If they had a
+necessity to cut off their Hair then we have reason to take up a lamentation
+over the sin of our first Parents which hath occasioned so many Persons in our
+Congregation to be sickly, weakly, crazy Persons.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Long “Ruffianly” or “Russianly” (I know not which word is right) hair equally
+worried the parsons. President Chauncey of Harvard College preached upon it,
+for the college undergraduates were vexingly addicted to prolix locks. Rev. Mr.
+Wigglesworth’s sermon on the subject has often been reprinted, and is full of
+logical arguments. This offence was named on the list of existing evils which
+was made by the general court: that “the men wore long hair like women’s hair.”
+Still, the Puritan magistrates, omnipotent as they were in small things, did
+riot dare to force the becurled citizens of the little towns to cut their long
+love-locks, though they bribed them to do so. A Salem man was, in 1687, fined
+l0s. for a misdemeanor, but “in case he shall cutt off his long har of his head
+into a sevill (civil?) frame, in the mean time shall have abated 5s. of his
+fine.” John Eliot hated long, natural hair as well as false hair. Rev. Cotton
+Mather said of him, in a very unpleasant figure of speech, “The hair of them
+that professed religion grew too long for him to swallow.” His own hair curled
+on his shoulders, and would seem long to us to-day.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Reverend_John_Marsh."></a>
+<img src="images/363.jpg" alt="Reverend John Marsh." />
+<p class="caption">Reverend John Marsh.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+A climax of wig-hating was reached by one who has been styled “The Last of the
+Puritans”—Judge Samuel Sewall of Boston. Constant references in his diary show
+how this hatred influenced his daily life. He despised wigs so long and so
+deeply, he thought and talked and prayed upon them, until they became to him of
+undue importance; they became godless emblems of iniquity; an unutterable snare
+and peril.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We find Sewall copying with evident approval a “scandalous bill” which had been
+“posted” on the church in Plymouth in 1701. In this a few lines ran:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+ “Our churches are too genteel.<br/>
+Parsons grow trim and trigg<br/>
+With wealth, wine, and wigg,<br/>
+   And their crowns are covered with meal.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="John_Adams_in_Youth."></a>
+<img src="images/364.jpg" alt="John Adams in Youth." />
+<p class="caption">John Adams in Youth.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Bitter must have been his efforts to reconcile to his conscience the sight of
+wigs upon the heads of his parson friends, worn boldly in the pulpit. He would
+refrain from attending a church where the parson wore a wig; and his italicized
+praise of a dead friend was that he “was a true New-English man and
+<i>abominated periwigs</i>.” A Boston wig-maker died a drunkard, and Sewall
+took much melancholy satisfaction in dilating upon it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cotton Mather and Sewall had many pious differences and personal jealousies.
+The parson was a handsome man (see his picture <a
+href="#Reverend_Cotton_Mather.">here</a>), and he was a harmlessly and naively
+vain man. He quickly adopted a “great bush of vanity”—and a very personable
+appearance he makes in it. Soon we find him inveighing at length in the pulpit
+against “those who strain at a gnat and swallow a camel, those who were zealous
+against an innocent fashion taken up and used by the best of men.” “’Tis
+supposed he means wearing a Perriwigg,” writes Sewall after this sermon; “I
+expected not to hear a vindication of Perriwiggs in Boston pulpit by Mr.
+Mather.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Poor Sewall! his regard of wigs had a severe test when he wooed Madam Winthrop
+late in life. She was a rich widow. He had courted her vainly for a second
+wife. And now he “yearned for her deeply” for a third wife, so he wrote. And
+ere she would consent or even discuss marriage she stipulated two things: one,
+that he keep a coach; the other, that he wear a periwig. When all the men of
+dignity and office in the colony were bourgeoning out in great flowing perukes,
+she was naturally a bit averse to an elderly lover in a skullcap or, as he
+often wore, a hood. His love did not make him waver; he stoutly persisted in
+his refusal to assume a periwig.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His portrait in a velvet skullcap shows a fringe of white curling hair with a
+few forehead locks. I fancy he was bald. Here is his entry with regard to young
+Parson Willard’s wig, in the year 1701:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Having last night heard that Josiah Willard had cut off his hair (a very full
+head of hair) and put on a wig, I went to him this morning. When I told his
+mother what I came about, she called him. Whereupon I inquired of him what
+extreme need had forced him to put off his own hair and put on a wig? He
+answered, none at all; he said that his hair was straight, and that it parted
+behind.<br/>
+<br/>
+“He seemed to argue that men might as well shave their hair off their head, as
+off their face. I answered that boys grew to be men before they had hair on
+their faces, and that half of mankind never have any beards. I told him that
+God seems to have created our hair as a test, to see whether we can bring our
+minds to be content at what he gives us, or whether wewould be our own carvers
+and come back to him for nothing more. We might dislike our skin or nails, as
+he disliked his hair; but in our case no thanks are due to us that we cut them
+not off; for pain and danger restrain us. Your duty, said I, is to teach men
+self-denial. I told him, further, that it would be displeasing and burdensome
+to good men for him to wear a wig, and they that care not what men think of
+them, care not what God thinks of them.<br/>
+<br/>
+“I told him that he must remember that wigs were condemned by a meeting of
+ministers at Northampton. I told him of the solemnity of the covenant which he
+and I had lately entered into, which put upon me the duty of discoursing to
+him.<br/>
+<br/>
+“He seemed to say that he would leave off his wig when his hair was grown
+again. I spoke to his father of it a day or two afterwards and he thanked me
+for reasoning with his son.<br/>
+<br/>
+“He told me his son had promised to leave off his wig when his hair was grown
+to cover his ears. If the father had known of it, he would have forbidden him
+to cut off his hair. His mother heard him talk of it, but was afraid to forbid
+him for fear he should do it in spite of her, and so be more faulty than if she
+had let him go his own way.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="JonathanEdwards2nd"></a>
+<img src="images/366.jpg" alt="Jonathan Edwards, 2nd." />
+<p class="caption">Jonathan Edwards, 2nd.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Soon nearly every parson in England and every colony wore wigs. John Wesley
+alone wore what seems to be his own white hair curled under softly at the ends.
+Whitfield is in a portentous wig like the one on Dr. Marsh <a
+href="#Reverend_John_Marsh.">(here</a>).
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the time of Queen Anne, wigs had multiplied vastly in variety as they had
+increased in size. I have been asked the difference between a peruke and a wig.
+Of course both, and the periwig, are simply wigs; but the term “peruke” is in
+general applied to a formal, richly curled wig; and the word “periwig” also
+conveys the distinction of a formal wig. Of less dignity were riding-wigs,
+nightcap wigs, and bag-wigs. Bag-wigs are said to have had their origin among
+French servants, who tied up their hair in a black leather bag as a speedy way
+of dressing it, and to keep it out of the way when at other and disordering
+duties.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Patrick_Henry."></a>
+<img src="images/367.jpg" alt="Patrick Henry." />
+<p class="caption">Patrick Henry.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In May, 1706, the English, led by Marlborough, gained a great victory on the
+battle-field of Ramillies, and that gave the title to a new wig described as
+“having a long, gradually diminishing, plaited tail, called the
+‘Ramillie-tail,’ which was tied with a great bow at the top and a smaller one
+at the bottom.” The hair also bushed out at both sides of the face. The
+Ramillies wig shown in Hogarth’s <i>Modern Midnight Conversation</i> hanging
+against the wall, is reproduced <a
+href="#CampaignRamilliesBobandPigtailWigs">here</a>. This wig was not at first
+deemed full-dress. Queen Anne was deeply offended because Lord Bolingbroke,
+summoned hurriedly to her, appeared in a Ramillies wig instead of a
+full-bottomed peruke. The queen remarked that she supposed next time Lord
+Bolingbroke would come in his nightcap. It was the same offending nobleman who
+brought in the fashion of the mean little tie-wigs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is stated in Read’s <i>Weekly Journal</i> of May 1, 1736, in an account of
+the marriage of the Prince of Wales, that the officers of the Horse and Foot
+Guards wore Ramillies periwigs when on parade, by his Majesty’s order. We meet
+in the reign of George II other forms of wigs and other titles; the most
+popular was the pigtail wig. The pigtail of this was worn hanging down the back
+or tied up in a knot behind. This pigtail wig, worn for so many years, is shown
+<a href="#CampaignRamilliesBobandPigtailWigs">here</a>. It was popular in the
+army for sixty years, but in 1804 orders were given for the pigtail to be
+reduced to seven inches in length, and finally, in 1808, to be cut off wholly,
+to the deep mourning of disciplinarians who deemed a soldier without a pigtail
+as hopeless as a Manx cat.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="KingCarterDied1732"></a>
+<img src="images/369.jpg" alt="“King” Carter. Died 1732." />
+<p class="caption">“King” Carter. Died 1732.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Bob-wigs, minor and major, came in during the reign of George II. The bob-wig
+was held to be a direct imitation of the natural hair, though, of course, it
+deceived no one; it was used chiefly by poorer folk. The ’prentice minor bob
+was close and short, the citizen’s bob major, or Sunday buckle, had several
+rows of curls. All these came to America by the hundreds—yes, by the thousands.
+Every profession and almost every calling had its peculiar wig. The caricatures
+of the period represent full-fledged lawyers with a towering frontlet and a
+long bag at the back tied in the middle; while students of the university have
+a wig flat on the top, to accommodate their stiff, square-cornered hats, and a
+great bag like a lawyer’s wig at the back.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Judge_Benjamin_Lynde."></a>
+<img src="images/370.jpg" alt="Judge Benjamin Lynde." />
+<p class="caption">Judge Benjamin Lynde.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+“When the law lays down its full-bottom’d periwig you will find less wisdom in
+bald pates than you are aware of,” says the <i>Choleric Man</i>. This lawyer’s
+wig is the only one which has not been changed or abandoned. You may see it
+here, on the head of Judge Benjamin Lynde of Salem. He died in 1745. Carlyle
+sneers:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Has not your Red hanging-individual a horsehair wig, squirrel-skins, and a
+plush-gown—whereby all Mortals know that he is a JUDGE?”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In the reigns of Anne and William and Mary perukes grew so vast and cumbersome
+that a wig was invented for travelling and for undress wear, and was called the
+“Campaign wig.” It would not seem very simple since it was made full and curled
+to the front, and had, so writes a contemporary, Randle Holme, in his
+<i>Academy of Armory</i>, 1684, “knots and bobs a-dildo on each side and a
+curled forehead.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A campaign wig from Holme’s drawing is shown <a
+href="#CampaignRamilliesBobandPigtailWigs">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There are constant references in old letters and in early literature in America
+which alter much the dates assigned by English authorities on costume: thus,
+knowing not of Randle Holme’s drawing, Sydney writes that the name “campaign”
+was applied to a wig, the name and fashion of which came to England from France
+in 1702. In the Letter-book of William Byrd of Westover, Virginia, in a letter
+written in June, 1690, to Perry and Lane, his English factors in London, he
+says, “I have by Tonner sent my long Periwig which I desire you to get made
+into a Campagne and send mee.” This was twelve years earlier than Sydney’s
+date. Fitz-John Winthrop wrote to England in 1695 for “two wiggs one a campane
+the other short.” The portrait of Fitz-John Winthrop shows a prodigious
+imposing wig, but it has no “knots or bobs a-dildo on each side,” though the
+forehead is curled; it is a fine example of a peruke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I cannot attempt even to name all the wigs, much less can I describe them;
+Hawthorne gave “the tie,” the “Brigadier,” the “Major,” the “Ramillies,” the
+grave “Full-bottom,” the giddy “Feather-top.” To these and others already named
+in this chapter I can add the “Neck-lock,” the “Allonge,” the “Lavant,” the
+“Vallancy,” the “Grecian fly wig,” the “Beau-peruke,” the “Long-tail,” the
+“Fox-tail,” the “Cut-wig,” the “Scratch,” the “Twist-wig.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Others named in 1753 in the <i>London Magazine</i> were the “Royal bird,” the
+“Rhinoceros,” the “Corded Wolf’s-paw,” “Count Saxe’s mode,” the “She-dragon,”
+the “Jansenist,” the “Wild-boar’s-back,” the “Snail-back,” the “Spinach-seed.”
+These titles were literal translations of French wig-names.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another wig-name was the “Gregorian.” We read in <i>The Honest Ghost</i>, 1658,
+“Pulling a little down his Gregorian, which was displac’t a little by his
+hastie taking off his beaver.” This wig was named from the inventor, one
+Gregory, “the famous peruke-maker who is buryed at St. Clements Danes Church.”
+In Cotgrave’s <i>Dictionary</i> perukes are called Gregorians.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="John_Rutledge."></a>
+<img src="images/372.jpg" alt="John Rutledge." />
+<p class="caption">John Rutledge.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the prologue to <i>Haut Ton</i>, written by George Colman, these wigs are
+named:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The Tyburn scratch, thick Club and Temple tyes,<br/>
+The Parson’s Feather-top, frizzed, broad and high.<br/>
+The coachman’s Cauliflower, built tier on tier.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+There was also the “Minister’s bob,” “Curley roys,” “Airy levants,” and
+“I—perukes.” The “Dalmahoy” was a bushy bob-wig.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Colonel John Carter died, he left to his brother Robert his cane, sword,
+and periwig. I believe this to be the very Valiancy periwig which, in all its
+snowy whiteness and air of extreme fashion, graces the head of the handsome
+young fellow as he is shown <a
+href="#KingCarterinYouthbySirGodfreyKneller">here</a>. Even the portrait shares
+the fascination which the man is said to have had for every woman. I have a
+copy of it now standing on my desk, where I can glance at him as I write; and
+pleasant company have I found the gay young Virginian—the best of company. It
+is good to have a companion so handsome of feature, so personable of figure, so
+laughing, care free, and debonair—isn’t it, King Robert?
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="CampaignRamilliesBobandPigtailWigs"></a>
+<img src="images/373.jpg" alt="Campaign, Ramillies, Bob, and Pigtail Wigs." />
+<p class="caption">Campaign, Ramillies, Bob, and Pigtail Wigs.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+These snowy wigs at a later date were called Adonis wigs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The cost of a handsome wig would sometimes amount to thirty, forty, and fifty
+guineas, though Swift grumbled at paying three guineas, and the exceedingly
+correct Mr. Pepys bought wigs at two and three pounds. It is not strange that
+they were often stolen. Gay, in his <i>Trivia</i>, thus tells the manner of
+their disappearance:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Nor is the flaxen wig with safety worn;<br/>
+ High on the shoulder, in a basket borne,<br/>
+ Lurks the sly boy, whose hand to rapine bred,<br/>
+ Plucks off the curling honors of the head.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In America wigs were deemed rich spoils for the sneak-thief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a vast trade in second-hand wigs. ’Tis said there was in Rosemary
+Lane in London a constantly replenished “Wig lottery.” It was, rather, a wig
+grab-bag. The wreck of gentility paid his last sixpence for appearances, dipped
+a long arm into a hole in a cask, and fished out his wig. It might be
+half-decent, or it might be fit only to polish shoes—worse yet, it might have
+been used already for that purpose. The lowest depths of everything were found
+in London. I doubt if we had any Rosemary Lane wig lotteries in New York, or
+Philadelphia, or Boston.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Rev._William_Welsteed."></a>
+<img src="images/374.jpg" alt="Rev. William Welsteed." />
+<p class="caption">Rev. William Welsteed.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+An answer to a query in a modern newspaper gives the word “caxon” as
+descriptive of a dress-wig. It was in truth a term for a wig, but it was a cant
+term, a slang phrase for the worst possible wig; thus Charles Lamb Wrote:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“He had two wigs both pedantic but of different omen. The one serene, smiling,
+fresh-powdered, betokening a mild day. The other an old discoloured, unkempt,
+angry caxon denoting frequent and bloody execution.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+All these wigs, even the bob-wig, were openly artificial. The manner of their
+make, their bindings, their fastening, as well as their material, completely
+destroyed any illusion which could possibly have been entertained as to their
+being a luxuriant crop of natural hair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No one was ashamed of wearing a wig. On the contrary, a person with any sense
+of dignity was ashamed of being so unfashionable as to wear his own hair. It
+was a glorious time for those to whom Nature had been niggardly. A wig was as
+frankly extraneous as a hat. No attempt was made to imitate the roots of the
+hairs, or the parting. The hair was attached openly, and bound with a
+high-colored, narrow ribbon. Here is an advertisement from the <i>Boston News
+Letter</i> of August 14, 1729:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Taken from the shop of Powers Mariott, Barber, a light Flaxen Natural Wigg
+parted from the forehead to the Crown. The Narrow Ribband is of a Red Pink
+Color, the Caul is in rows of Red, Green and White Ribband.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Another “peruke-maker” lost a Flaxen “Natural” wig bound with peach-colored
+ribbon; while in 1755 Barber Coes, of Marblehead, lost “feather-tops” bound
+with various ribbons. Some had three colors on one wig—pink, green and purple.
+A goat’s-hair wig bound with red and purple, with green ribbons striping the
+caul, must have been a pretty and dignified thing on an old gentleman’s head.
+One of the most curious materials for a wig was fine wire, of which Wortley
+Montague’s wig was made.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Thomas_Hopkinson."></a>
+<img src="images/376.jpg" alt="Thomas Hopkinson." />
+<p class="caption">Thomas Hopkinson.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+We read in many histories of costume, among them Miss Hill’s recent history of
+English dress, that Quakers did not wear wigs. This is widely incorrect. Many
+Quakers wore most fashionably made wigs. William Penn wrote from England to his
+steward, telling him to allow Deputy Governor Lloyd to wear his (Penn’s) wigs.
+I suppose he wished his deputy to cut a good figure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the <i>New York Gazette</i> of May 9, 1737, we learn of a thief’s stealing
+“one gray Hair Wig, not the worse for wearing, one Pale Hair Wig, not worn five
+times, marked V. S. E., one brown Natural wig, One old wig of goat’s hair put
+in buckle.” Buckle meant to curl, and derivatively a wig was in buckle when it
+was rolled for curling. Roulettes or bilbouquettes for buckling a wig were
+little rollers of pipe clay. The hair was twisted up in them, and papers bound
+over them to fix them in place. The roulettes could be put in buckle hot, or
+they could be rolled cold and the whole wig heated. The latter was not favored;
+it damaged the wig. Moreover, a careless barber had often roasted a forgotten
+wig which he had put in buckle and in an oven.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The <i>New York Gazette</i> of May 12, 1750, had this alluring advertisement:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“This is to acquaint the Public, that there is lately arrived from London the
+Wonder of the World, <i>an Honest</i> Barber and Peruke Maker, who might have
+worked for the King, if his Majesty would have employed him: It was not for the
+want of Money he came here, for he had enough of that at Home, nor for the want
+of Business, that he advertises himself, BUT to acquaint the Gentlemen and
+Ladies, that <i>Such a Person is now in Town</i>, living near <i>Rosemary
+Lane</i> where Gentlemen and Ladies may be supplied with Goods as follows,
+viz.: Tyes, Full-Bottoms, Majors, Spencers, Fox-Tails, Ramalies, Tacks, cut and
+bob Perukes: Also Ladies Tatematongues and Towers after the Manner that is now
+wore at Court. <i>By their Humble and Obedient Servant</i>,<br/>
+<br/>
+“JOHN STILL.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Reverend_Dr._Barnard"></a>
+<img src="images/378.jpg" alt="Reverend Dr. Barnard." />
+<p class="caption">Reverend Dr. Barnard.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+“Perukes,” says Malcolm, in his <i>Manners and Customs</i>, “were an highly
+important article in 1734.” Those of right gray human hair were four guineas
+each; light grizzle ties, three guineas; and other colors in proportion, to
+twenty-five shillings. Right gray human hair cue perukes, from two guineas to
+fifteen shillings each, was the price of dark ones; and right gray bob perukes,
+two guineas and a half to fifteen shillings, the price of dark bobs. Those
+mixed with horsehair were much lower.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Prices were a bit higher in America. It was held that better wigs were made in
+England than in America or France; so the letter-books and agent’s-lists of
+American merchants are filled with orders for English wigs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Imperative orders for the earliest and extremest new fashions stood from year
+to year on the lists of fashionable London wig-makers; and these constant
+orders came from Virginia gentlemen and Massachusetts magistrates,—not a few,
+too, from the parsons,—scantly paid as they were. The smaller bob-wigs and
+tie-wigs were precisely the same in both countries, and I am sure were no later
+in assumption in America than was necessitated by the weeks occupied in coming
+across seas.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Throughout the seventeenth century all classes of men in American towns wore
+wigs. Negro slaves flaunted white horsehair wigs, goat’s-hair bob-wigs, natural
+wigs, all the plainer wigs, and all the more costly sorts when these were half
+worn and secondhand. Soldiers wore wigs; and in the <i>Massachusetts
+Gazette</i> of the year 1774 a runaway negro is described as wearing a curl of
+hair tied around his head to imitate a scratch wig; with his woolly crown this
+dangling curl must have been the height of absurdity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is not surprising to find in the formal life of the English court the poor
+little tormented, sickly, sad child of Queen Anne wearing, before he was seven
+years old, a large full-bottomed wig; but it is curious to see the portraits of
+American children rigged up in wigs (I have half a dozen such), and to find
+likewise an American gentleman (and not one of wealth either) paying &pound;;9
+apiece for wigs for three little sons of seven, nine, and eleven years of age.
+This lavish parent was Enoch Freeman, who lived in Portland, Maine, in 1754.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Wigs were objects of much and constant solicitude and care; their dressing was
+costly, and they wore out readily. Barbers cared for them by the month or year,
+visiting from house to house. Ten pounds a year was not a large sum to be paid
+for the care of a single wig. Men of dignity and careful dress had barbers’
+bills of large amount, such men as Governor John Hancock, Governor Hutchinson,
+and Governor Belcher. On Saturday afternoons the barbers’ boys were seen flying
+through the narrow streets, wig-box in hand, hurrying to deliver all the
+dressed wigs ere sunset came.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No doubt the constant wearing of such hot, heavy head-covering made the hair
+thin and the head bald; thus wigs became a necessity. Men had their heads very
+closely covered of old, and caught cold at a breath. Pepys took cold throwing
+off his hat while at dinner. If the wig were removed even within doors a close
+cap or hood at once took its place, or, as I tell elsewhere, a turban of some
+rich stuff. In America, in the Southern states, where people were poor and
+plantations scattered, all men did not wear wigs. A writer in the <i>London
+Magazine</i> in 1745 tells of this country carelessness of dress. He says that
+except some of the “very Elevated Sort” few wore perukes; so that at first
+sight “all looked as if about to go to bed,” for all wore caps. Common people
+wore woollen caps; richer ones donned caps of white cotton or Holland linen.
+These were worn even when riding fifty miles from home. He adds, “It may be
+cooler for aught I know; but methinks ’tis very ridiculous.” So wonted were his
+eyes to perukes, that his only thought of caps was that they were “ridiculous.”
+Nevertheless, when a shipload of servants, bond-servants who might be stolen
+when in drink, or lured under false pretences, might be convicts, or honest
+workmen,—when these transports were set up in respectability,—scores of new
+wigs of varying degrees of dignity came across seas with them. Many an old
+caxon or “gossoon”—a wig worn yellow with age—ended its days on the pate of a
+redemptioner, who thereby acquired dignity and was more likely to be bought as
+a schoolmaster. Truly our ancestors were not squeamish, and it is well they
+were not, else they would have squeamed from morning till night at the sights,
+and sounds, and things, and dirt around them. But these be parlous words; they
+had the senses and feelings of their day—suited to the surroundings of their
+day. In one thing they can be envied. Knowing not of germs and microbes,
+dreaming not of antiseptics and fumigation, they could be happy in blissful
+unconsciousness of menacing environment—a blessing wholly denied to us.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Andrew_Ellicott."></a>
+<img src="images/381.jpg" alt="Andrew Ellicott." />
+<p class="caption">Andrew Ellicott.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+When James Murray came from Scotland in 1735 he went up the Cape Fear River in
+North Carolina to the struggling settlements of Brunswick. The stock of wigs
+which he brought as one of the commodities of his trade had absolutely no
+market. In 1751 he wrote thus to his London wig-maker:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“We deal so much in caps in this country that we are almost as careless of the
+outside as of the inside of our heads. I have had but one wig since the last I
+had of you, and yours has outworn it. Now I am near out, and you may make me a
+new grisel Bob.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Nevertheless, in 1769, when he was roughly handled in Boston on account of his
+Tory utterances, his head, though he was but fifty-six, was bald from
+wig-wearing. His spirited recital runs thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The crowd intending sport, remained. As I was pressing out, my Wig was pulled
+off and a pate shaved by Time and the barber was left exposed. This was thought
+a signal and prelude to further insult; which would probably have taken place
+but for hindering the cause. Going along in this plight, surrounded by the
+crowd, in the dark, a friend hold of either arm supporting me, while somebody
+behind kept nibbling at my sides and endeavouring of treading the reforming
+justice out of me by the multitude. My wig dishevelled, was borne on a staff
+behind. My friends and supporters offered to house me, but I insisted on going
+home in the present trim, and was landed in safety.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Patriotic Boston barbers found much satisfaction in ill treating the wigs of
+their Tory customers and patrons. William Pyncheon, a Salem Tory, wrote a few
+years later:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The tailors and barbers, in their squinting and fleering at our clothes, and
+especially our wiggs, begin to border on malevolence. Had not the caul of my
+wigg been of uncommon stuff and workmanship, I think my barber would have had
+it in pieces: his dressing it greatly resembles the farmer dressing his flax,
+the latter of the two being the gentlest in his motions.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Worcester Tories, among them Timothy Paine, had their wigs pulled off in
+public. Mr. Paine at once gave his dishonored wig to one of his negro slaves,
+and never after resumed wig-wearing.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BEARD</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Though yours be sorely lugged and torn<br/>
+It does your Visage more adorn<br/>
+Than if ’twere prun’d, and starch’d, and launder’d<br/>
+And cut square by the Russian standard.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Hudibras,” SAMUEL BUTLER.<br/>
+<br/>
+<br/>
+<i>“Now of beards there be such company<br/>
+And fashions such a throng<br/>
+That it is very hard to handle a beard<br/>
+Tho’ it be never so long.<br/>
+<br/>
+“’Tis a pretty sight and a grave delight<br/>
+That adorns both young and old<br/>
+A well thatch’t face is a comely grace<br/>
+And a shelter from the cold”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—“Le Prince d’Amour,” 1660.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BEARD</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="90" height="93" src="images/initialm.jpg" alt="M" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+en’s hair on their heads hath ever been at odds with that on their face. If the
+head were well covered and the hair long, then the face was smooth shaven.
+William the Conqueror had short hair and a beard, then came a long-haired king,
+then a cropped one; Edward IV’s subjects had long hair and closely cut beards.
+Henry VII fiercely forbade beards. The great sovereign Henry VIII ordered short
+hair like the French, and wore a beard. Through Elizabeth’s day and that of
+James the beard continued. Not until great perukes overshadowed the whole face
+did the beard disappear. It vanished for a century as if men were beardless;
+but after men began to wear short hair in the early years of the nineteenth
+century, bearded men appeared. A few German mystics who had come to America
+full-bearded were stared at like the elephant, and a sight of them was recorded
+in a diary as a great event.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is no doubt that, to the general reader, the ordinary thought of the
+Puritan is with a beard, a face and figure much like the Hogarth illustrations
+of Hudibras—one of the “Presbyterian true Blue,” “the stubborn crew of Errant
+Saints,”—without the grotesquery of face and feature, perhaps, but certainly
+with all the plainness and gracelessness of dress and the commonplace beard.
+The wording of Hudibras also figures the popular conception:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“His tawny Beard was th’ equal Grace<br/>
+Both of his Wisdom and his Face:<br/>
+       *       *       *       *       *<br/>
+“His Doublet was of sturdy Buff<br/>
+And tho’ not Sword, was Cudgel-Proof.<br/>
+His Breeches were of rugged Woolen<br/>
+And had been at the Siege of Bullen.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="HerbertWestphalingBishopofHereford"></a>
+<img src="images/385.jpg" alt="Herbert Westphaling, Bishop of Hereford." />
+<p class="caption">Herbert Westphaling, Bishop of Hereford.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In truth this is well enough as far as it runs and for one suit of clothing;
+but this was by no means a universal dress, nor was it a universal beard.
+Indeed beards were fearfully and wonderfully varied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That humorous old rhymester, Taylor, the “Water Poet,” may be quoted at length
+on the vanity thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“And Some, to set their Love’s-Desire on Edge<br/>
+Are cut and prun’d, like to a Quickset Hedge.<br/>
+Some like a Spade, some like a Forke, some square,<br/>
+Some round, some mow’d like stubble, some starke bare;<br/>
+Some sharpe, Stilletto-fashion, Dagger-like,<br/>
+That may with Whispering a Man’s Eyes unpike;<br/>
+Some with the Hammer-cut, or Roman T.<br/>
+Their Beards extravagant, reform’d must be.<br/>
+Some with the Quadrate, some Triangle fashion;<br/>
+Some circular, some ovall in translation;<br/>
+Some Perpendicular in Longitude,<br/>
+Some like a Thicket for their Crassitude,<br/>
+That Heights, Depths, Breadths, Triform, Square, Ovall, Round<br/>
+And Rules Geometrical in Beards are found.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Taylor’s own beard was screw-shaped. I fancy he invented it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Anglo-Saxon beard was parted, and this double form remained for a long
+time. Sometimes there were two twists or two long forks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A curious pointed beard, a beard in two curls, is shown <a
+href="#JamesDouglasEarlofMorton">here</a>, on James Douglas, Earl of Morton. A
+still more strangely kept one, pointed in the middle of the chin, and kept in
+two rolls which roll toward the front, is upon the aged herald, <a
+href="#The_Herald_Vandum.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard II had a mean beard,—two little tufts on the chin known as “the
+mouse-eaten beard, here a tuft, there a tuft.” The round beard “like a half a
+Holland cheese” is always seen in the depictions of Falstaff; “a great round
+beard” we know he had. This was easily trimmed, but others took so much time
+and attention that pasteboard boxes were made to tie over them at night, that
+they might be unrumpled in the morning.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="The_Herald_Vandum."></a>
+<img src="images/387.jpg" alt="The Herald Vandum." />
+<p class="caption">The Herald Vandum.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the reign of Elizabeth and of James I a beard and whiskers or mustache were
+universally worn. In the time of Charles I the general effect of beard and
+mustache was triangular, with the mouth in the centre, as in the portrait of
+Waller <a href="#Sir_William_Waller.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A beard of some form was certainly universal in 1620. Often it was the orderly
+natural growth shown on Winthrop’s face; a smaller tuft on the chin with a
+mustache also was much worn. Many ministers in America had this chin-tuft.
+Among them were John Eliot and John Davenport. The Stuarts wore a pointed
+beard, carefully trimmed, and a mustache; but the natural beard seems to have
+disappeared with the ruff. Charles II clung for a time to a mustache; his
+portrait by Mary Beale has one; but with the great development of the periwig
+came a smooth face. This continued until the nineteenth century brought a
+fashion of bearded men again; a fashion which was so abhorred, so reviled, so
+openly warred with that I know of the bequest of a large estate with the
+absolute and irrevocable condition that the inheritor should never wear a beard
+of any form.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The hammer cut was of the reign of Charles I. It was T-shaped. In the play,
+<i>The Queen of Corinth</i>, 1647, are the lines:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+      “He strokes his beard<br/>
+Which now he puts in the posture of a T,<br/>
+The Roman T. Your T-beard is in fashion.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+The spade beard is shown <a href="#Scotch_Beard.">here</a>. It was called the
+“broad pendant,” and was held to make a man look like a warrior. The sugar-loaf
+beard was the natural form much worn by Puritans; by natural I mean not twisted
+into any “strange antic forms.” The swallow-tail cut (about 1600) is more
+unusual, but was occasionally seen.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The stiletto-beard<br/>
+It makes me afeard<br/>
+     It is so sharp beneath.<br/>
+For he that doth place<br/>
+A dagger in his face<br/>
+     What wears he in his sheath?”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+An unusually fine stiletto beard is on the chin of John Endicott (<a
+href="#Governor_John_Endicott">here</a>). It was distinctly a soldier’s beard.
+Endicott was major-general of the colonial forces and a severe disciplinarian.
+Shakespere, in <i>Henry V</i>, speaks of “a beard of the General’s cut.” It was
+worn by the Earl of Southampton (see <a href="#Earl_of_Southampton.">here</a>),
+and perhaps Endicott favored it on that account. The pique-devant beard or
+“pick-a-devant beard, O Fine Fashion,” was much worn. A good moderate example
+may be seen upon Cousin Kilvert, with doublet and band, in the print <a
+href="#Alderman_Abell_and_Richard_Kilvert">here</a>. An extreme type was the
+beard of Robert Greene, the Elizabethan dramatist, “A jolly long red peake like
+the spire of a steeple, which he wore continually, whereat a man might hang a
+jewell; it was so sharp and pendent.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Scotch_Beard."></a>
+<img src="images/389.jpg" alt="Scotch Beard." />
+<p class="caption">Scotch Beard.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+The word “peak” was constantly used for a beard, and also the words “spike” and
+“spear.” A barber is represented in an old play as asking whether his customer
+will “have his peak cut short and sharp; or amiable like an inamorato, or broad
+pendant like a spade; to be terrible like a warrior and a soldado; to have his
+appendices primed, or his mustachios fostered to turn about his eares like ye
+branches of a vine.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A broad square-cut beard spreading at the ends like an open fan is the
+“cathedral beard” of Randle Holme, “so called because grave men of the church
+did wear it.” It is often seen in portraits. One of these is shown <a
+href="#Dr._William_Slater._Cathedral_Beard.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Dr._William_Slater._Cathedral_Beard."></a>
+<img src="images/390.jpg" alt="Dr. William Slater. Cathedral Beard." />
+<p class="caption">Dr. William Slater. Cathedral Beard.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In the <i>Life of Mrs. Elizabeth Thomas</i>, 1731, she writes of her
+grandfather, a Turkey-merchant:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“He was very nice in the Mode of his Age—his Valet being some hours every
+morning in <i>Starching</i> his <i>Beard</i> and Curling his Whiskers during
+which Time a Gentleman whom he maintained as Companion always read to him upon
+some useful subject.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+So we may believe they really “starched” their beards, stiffened them with some
+dressing. Taylor, the “Water Poet” (1640), says of beards:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Some seem as they were starched stiff and fine<br/>
+Like to the Bristles of some Angry Swine.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Dr._John_Dee._1600."></a>
+<img src="images/390a.jpg" alt="Dr. John Dee. 1600." />
+<p class="caption">Dr. John Dee. 1600.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Dr. Dee’s extraordinary beard I can but regard as an affectation of
+singularity, assumed doubtless to attract attention, and to be a sign of
+unusual parts. Aubrey, his friend, calls him “a very handsome man; of very
+fair, clear, sanguine complexion, with a long beard as white as milke. He was
+tall and slender. He wore a gowne like an artist’s gowne; with hanging sleeves
+and a slitt. A mighty good man he was.” The word “artist” then meant artisan;
+and in this reference means a smock like a workman’s.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A name seen often in Winthrop’s letters is that of Sir Kenelm Digby. He was an
+intimate correspondent of John Winthrop the second, and it would not be strange
+if he did many errands for Winthrop in England besides purchasing drugs. His
+portrait, and a lugubrious one it is, is one of the few of his day which shows
+an untrimmed beard. Aubrey says of him that after the death of his wife he wore
+“a long mourning cloak, a high cornered hatt, his beard unshorn, look’t like a
+hermit; as signs of sorrow for his beloved wife. He had something of the
+sweetness of his mother’s face.” This sweetness is, however, not to be
+perceived in his unattractive portrait.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“Q. Why is a Wife like a Patten? A. Both are Clogs.”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—Old Riddle.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="88" src="images/initialw.jpg" alt="W" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+hen this old pigskin trunk was new, the men who fought in the Revolution were
+young. Here is the date, “1756,” and the initials in brass-headed nails,
+“J.E.H.” It was a bride’s trunk, the trunk of Elizabeth, who married John; and
+it was marked after the manner of marking the belongings of married folk in her
+day. It is curious in shape, spreading out wide at the top; for it was made to
+fit a special place in an old coach. I have told the story of that ancient
+coach in my <i>Old Narragansett</i>: the tale of the ignoble end of its days,
+the account of its fall from transportation of this happy bride and bridegroom,
+through years of stately use and formal dignity to more years of happy
+desuetude as a children’s cubby-house; and finally its ignominy as a
+roosting-place, and hiding-place, and laying-place, and setting-place of
+misinformed and misguided hens. Under the coachman’s seat, where the two-score
+dark-blue Staffordshire pie-plates were found on the day of the annihilation of
+the coach, was the true resting-place of this trunk. It was a hidden spot, for
+the trunk was small, and was intended to hold only treasures. It holds them
+still, though they are not the silver-plate, the round watches, the narrow
+laces, and the precious camel’s-hair scarf. It now holds treasured relics of
+the olden time; trifles, but not unconsidered ones; much esteemed trifles are
+they, albeit not in form or shape or manner of being fit to rest in parlor
+cabinets or on tables, but valued, nevertheless, valued for that most
+intangible of qualities—association.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Iron_and_Leather_Pattens._1760."></a>
+<img src="images/394.jpg" alt="Iron and Leather Pattens. 1760." />
+<p class="caption">Iron and Leather Pattens. 1760.
+</p></div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="OakIronandLeatherClogs1790"></a>
+<img src="images/395.jpg" alt="Oak, Iron, and Leather Clogs. 1790." />
+<p class="caption">Oak, Iron, and Leather Clogs. 1790.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Here is one little “antick.” It is an ample bag with the neat double
+drawing-strings of our youth; a bag, nay, a pocket. It once hung by the side of
+some one of my forbears, perhaps Elizabeth of the brass-nailed initials. It was
+a much-esteemed pocket, though it is only of figured cotton or chiney; but
+those stuffs were much sought after when this old trunk was new. The pocket has
+served during recent years as a cover for two articles of footwear which many
+“of the younger sort” to-day have never seen—they are pattens. “Clumsy, ugly
+pattens” we find them frequently stigmatized in the severe words of the early
+years of the nineteenth century, but there is nothing ugly or clumsy about this
+pair. The sole is of some black, polished wood—it is heavy enough for ebony;
+the straps are of strong leather neatly stitched; the buckles are polished
+brass, and brass nails fasten the leather to the wooden soles. These soles are
+cut up high in a ridge to fit under the instep of a high-heeled shoe; for it
+was a very little lady who wore these pattens,—Elizabeth,—and her little feet
+always stood in the highest heels. She was active, kindly, and bountiful. She
+lived to great age, and she could and did walk many miles a day until the last
+year of her life. She is recalled as wearing a great scarlet cloak with a black
+silk quilted hood on cold winter days, when she visited her neighbors with
+kindly words, and housewifely, homely gifts, conveyed in an ample basket. The
+cloak was made precisely like the scarlet cloak shown <a
+href="#Scarlet_Broadcloth_Hooded_Cloak.">here</a>, and had a like hood. She was
+brown-eyed, and her dark hair was never gray even in extreme old age; nor was
+the hair of her granddaughter, another Elizabeth, my grandmother. Trim and
+erect of figure, and precise and neat of dress, wearing, on account of this
+neatness, shorter petticoats, when walking, than was the mode of her day, and
+also through this neatness clinging to the very last to these cleanly, useful,
+quaint pattens. Her black hood, frilled white cap, short, quilted petticoat,
+high-heeled shoes, and the shining ebony and brass pattens, and over all the
+great, full scarlet cloak,—all these made her an unusual and striking figure
+against the Wayland landscape, the snowy fields and great sombre pine trees of
+Heard’s Island, as she trod trimly, in short pattened steps that crackled the
+kittly-benders in the shadowed roads, or sunk softly in the shallow mud of the
+sunny lanes on a snow-melting day in late winter. Would I could paint the
+picture as I see it!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These pattens in the old trunk are prettier than most pattens which have been
+preserved. In general, they are rather shabby things. I have another pair—more
+commonplace, which chance to exist; they were not saved purposely. They are
+pictured <a href="#Iron_and_Leather_Pattens._1760.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="English_Clogs."></a>
+<img src="images/397.jpg" alt="English Clogs." />
+<p class="caption">English Clogs.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+There is a most ungallant old riddle, “Why is a wife like a patten?” The answer
+reads, “Because both are clogs.” A very courteous bishop was once asked this
+uncivil query, and he answered without a moment’s hesitation, “Because both
+elevate the soul (sole).” Pattens may be clogs, yet there is a difference.
+After much consultation of various authorities, and much discussion in the
+columns of various querying journals, I make this decision and definition.
+Pattens are thick, wooden soles roughly shaped in the outline of the human foot
+(in the shoemaker’s notion of that member), mounted on a round or oval ring of
+iron, fixed by two or three pins to the sole, in such a way that when the
+patten is worn the sole of the wearer’s foot is about two inches above the
+ground. A heel-piece with buckles and straps, strings or buttons and leather
+loops, and a strap over the toe, retain the patten in place upon the foot when
+the wearer trips along. (See <a
+href="#Iron_and_Leather_Pattens._1760.">here</a>.) Clogs serve the same
+purpose, but are simply wooden soles tipped and shod with iron. These also have
+heel-pieces and straps of various materials—from the heavy serviceable leather
+shown in the clogs <a href="#OakIronandLeatherClogs1790">here</a> and <a
+href="#English_Clogs.">here</a> to the fine brocade clogs made and worn by two
+brides and pictured <a href="#BridesClogsofBrocadeandSoleLeather">here</a>.
+Dainty brass tips and colored morocco straps made a really refined pair of
+clogs. Poplar wood was deemed the best wood for pattens and clogs. Sometimes
+the wooden sole was thin, and was cut at the line under the instep in two
+pieces and hinged. These hinges were held to facilitate walking. Children also
+wore clogs. (See <a href="#ChildrensClogs1730">here</a>.) Clogs, as worn by
+English and American folk, did not raise the wearer as high above the mud and
+mire as did pattens, but I have seen Turkish clogs that were ten inches high.
+Chopines were worn by Englishwomen to make them look taller. Three are shown <a
+href="#ChopinesSeventeenthCentury">here</a>. Lady Falkland was short and stout,
+and wore them for years to increase her apparent height; so she states in her
+memoirs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is a curious philological study that, while the words “clogs” and “pattens”
+for a time were constantly heard, the third name which has survived till to-day
+is the oldest of all—“galoshes.” Under the many spellings, galoe-shoes,
+goloshes, gallage, galoche, and gallosh, it has come down to us from the Middle
+Ages. It is spelt galoches in <i>Piers Plowman</i>. In a <i>Compotus</i>—or
+household account of the Countess of Derby in 1388 are entries of botews
+(boots), souters (slippers), and “one pair of galoches, 14 d.” Clogs, or
+galoches, were known in the days of the Saxons, when they were termed “wife’s
+shoes.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A “galage” was a shoe “which has nothing on the feet but a latchet”; it was
+simply a clog. In February, 1687, Judge Sewall notes, “Send my mothers Shoes
+&amp;; Golowshoes to carry to her.” In 1736 Peter Faneuil sent to England for
+“Galoushoes” for his sister. Another foot-covering for slippery, icy walking is
+named by Judge Sewall. He wrote on January 19, 1717, “Great rain and very
+Slippery; was fain to wear Frosts.” These frosts were what had been called on
+horses, “frost nails,” or calks. They were simply spiked soles to help the
+wearer to walk on ice. A pair may be seen at the Deerfield Memorial Hall.
+Another pair is of half-soles with sharp ridges of iron, set, one the length of
+the half-sole, the other across it.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="ChopinesSeventeenthCentury"></a>
+<img src="images/399.jpg" alt="Chopines, Seventeenth Century. In the Ashmolean
+Museum." />
+<p class="caption">Chopines, Seventeenth Century. In the Ashmolean Museum.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+For a time clogs seem to have been in constant use in America; frail morocco
+slippers and thin prunella and callimanco shoes made them necessary, as did
+also the unpaved streets. Heavy-soled shoes were unknown for women’s wear.
+Women walked but short distances. In the country they always rode. We find even
+Quaker women warned in 1720 not to wear “Shoes of light Colours bound with
+Differing Colours, and heels White or Red, with White bands, and fine Coloured
+Clogs and Strings, and Scarlet and Purple Stockings and Petticoats made Short
+to expose them”—a rather startling description of footwear. Again, in 1726, in
+Burlington, New Jersey, Friends were asked to be “careful to avoid wearing of
+Stript Shoos, or Red and White Heel’d Shoos, or Clogs, or Shoos trimmed with
+Gawdy Colours.”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="BridesClogsofBrocadeandSoleLeather"></a>
+<img src="images/400.jpg" alt="Brides’ Clogs of Brocade and Sole Leather." />
+<p class="caption">Brides’ Clogs of Brocade and Sole Leather.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Ann Warder, an English Quaker, was in Philadelphia, 1786 to 1789, and kept an
+entertaining journal, from which I make this quotation:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Got B. Parker to go out shopping with me. On our way happened of Uncle Head,
+to whom I complained bitterly of the dirty streets, declaring if I could
+purchase a pair of pattens, the singularity I would not mind. Uncle soon found
+me up an apartment, out of which I took a pair and trotted along quite
+Comfortable, crossing some streets with the greatest ease, which the idea of
+had troubled me. My little companion was so pleased, that she wished some also,
+and kept them on her feet to learn to walk in them most of the remainder of the
+day.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Fairholt, in his book upon costume, says, “Pattens date their origin to the
+reign of Anne.” Like many other dates and statements given by this author, this
+is wholly wrong. In <i>Purchas’, his Pilgrimage</i>, 1613, is this sentence,
+“Clogges or Pattens to keep them out of the dust they may not burden themselves
+with,” showing that the name and thing was the same then as to-day.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="ClogsofPennsylvaniaDutch"></a>
+<img src="images/401.jpg" alt="Clogs of “Pennsylvania Dutch.”" />
+<p class="caption">Clogs of “Pennsylvania Dutch.”
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Charles Dibdin has a song entitled, <i>The Origin of the Patten</i>. Fair Patty
+went out in the mud and the mire, and her thin shoes speedily were wet. Then
+she became hoarse and could not sing, while her lover longed for the sweet
+sound of her voice.
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“My anvil glow’d, my hammer rang,<br/>
+Till I had form’d from out the fire<br/>
+To bear her feet above the mire,<br/>
+A platform for my blue-eyed Patty.<br/>
+Again was heard each tuneful close,<br/>
+My fair one in the patten rose,<br/>
+  Which takes its name from blue-eyed Patty.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+This fanciful derivation of the word was not an original thought of Dibdin. Gay
+wrote in his Trivia, 1715:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The patten now supports each frugal dame<br/>
+That from the blue-eyed Patty takes the name.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+In reality, patten is derived from the French word <i>patin</i>, which has a
+varied meaning of the sole of a shoe or a skate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pattens were noisy, awkward wear. A writer of the day of their universality
+wrote, “Those ugly, noisy, ferruginous, ancle-twisting, foot-cutting, clinking
+things called women’s pattens.” Notices were set in church porches enjoining
+the removal of women’s pattens, which, of course, should never have been worn
+into church during service-time.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="ChildrensClogs1730"></a>
+<img src="images/402.jpg" alt="Children’s Clogs. 1730." />
+<p class="caption">Children’s Clogs. 1730.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It may have disappeared today, but four years ago, on the door of Walpole St.
+Peters, near Wisbeck, England, hung a board which read, “People who enter this
+church are requested to take off their pattens.” A friend in Northamptonshire,
+England, writes me that pattens are still seen on muddy days in remote English
+villages in that shire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Men wore pattens in early days. And men did and do wear clogs in English
+mill-towns.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were also horse pattens or horse clogs which horses wore through deep,
+muddy roads; I have an interesting photograph of a pair found in Northampton.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+<i>“By my Faith! Master Inkpen, thou hast put thy foot in it! Tis a pretty
+subject and a strange one, and a vast one, but we’ll leave it never a sole to
+stand on. The proverb hath ‘There’s naught like leather,’ but my Lady answers
+‘Save silk:’”</i><br/>
+<br/>
+—Old Play.
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES</h3>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+
+<img width="87" height="87" src="images/initialo.jpg" alt="O" /></span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+
+ne of the first sumptuary laws in New England declared that men of mean estate
+should not walk abroad in immoderate great boots. It was a natural prohibition
+where all extravagance in dress was reprehended and restrained. The “great
+boots” which had been so vast in the reign of James I seemed to be spreading
+still wider in the reign of Charles. I have an old “Discourse” on leather dated
+1629, which states fully the condition of things. Its various headings read,
+“The general Use of Leather;” “The general Abuse thereof;” “The good which may
+arise from the Reformation;” “The several Statutes made in that behalf by our
+ancient Kings;” and lastly a “Petition to the High Court of Parliament.” It is
+all most informing; for instance, in the trades that might want work were it
+not for leather are named not only “shoemakers, cordwainers, curriers, etc.,”
+but many now obsolete. The list reads:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“Book binders.<br/>
+Budget makers.<br/>
+Saddlers.<br/>
+Trunk makers.<br/>
+Upholsterers.<br/>
+Belt makers.<br/>
+Case makers.<br/>
+Box makers.<br/>
+Wool-card makers.<br/>
+Cabinet makers.<br/>
+Shuttle makers.<br/>
+Bottle and Jack makers.<br/>
+Hawks-hood makers.<br/>
+Gridlers.<br/>
+Scabbard-makers.<br/>
+Glovers.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Unwillingly the author added “those <i>upstart trades</i>—Coach Makers, and
+Harness Makers for Coach Horses.” It was really feared, by this sensible
+gentleman-writer—and many others—that if many carriages and coaches were used,
+shoemakers would suffer because so few shoes would be worn out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the statutes which are rehearsed we learn that the footwear of the day was
+“boots, shoes, buskins, startups, slippers, or pantofles.” Stubbes said:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“They have korked shooes puisnets pantoffles, some of black velvet, some of
+white some of green, some of yellow, some of Spanish leather, some of English
+leather stitched with Silke and embroidered with Gold &amp;; Silver all over
+the foot.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A very interesting book has been published by the British Cordwainers’ Guild,
+giving a succession of fine illustrations of the footwear of different times
+and nations. Among them are some handsome English slippers, shoes, jack-boots,
+etc. We have also in our museums, historical collections, and private families
+many fine examples; but the difficulty is in the assigning of correct dates.
+Family tradition is absolutely wide of the truth—its fabulous dates are often a
+century away from the proper year.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="The_Copley_Family_Picture."></a>
+<img src="images/406.jpg" alt="The Copley Family Picture." />
+<p class="caption">The Copley Family Picture.
+</p></div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Wedding_Slippers_and_Brocade._1712."></a>
+<img src="images/407.jpg" alt="Wedding Slippers and Brocade. 1712." />
+<p class="caption">Wedding Slippers and Brocade. 1712.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Buskins to the knee were worn even by royalty; Queen Elizabeth’s still exist.
+Buskins were in wear when the colonies were settled. Richard Sawyer, of
+Windsor, Connecticut, had cloth buskins in 1648; and a hundred years later
+runaway servants wore them. One redemptioner is described as running off in
+“sliders and buskins.” American buskins were a foot-covering consisting of a
+strong leather sole with cloth uppers and leggins to the knees, which were
+fastened with lacings. Startups were similar, but heavier. In Thynne’s
+<i>Debate between Pride and Lowliness</i>, the dress of a countryman is
+described. It runs thus:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“A payre of startups had he on his feete<br/>
+   That lased were up to the small of the legge.<br/>
+ Homelie they are, and easier than meete;<br/>
+   And in their soles full many a wooden pegge.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>
+Thomas Johnson of Wethersfield, Connecticut, died in 1840. He owned “1 Perre of
+Startups.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Slippers were worn even in the fifteenth century. In the <i>Paston Letters</i>,
+in a letter dated February 23, 1479, is this sentence, “In the whych lettre was
+VIII d with the whych I shulde bye a peyr of slyppers.” Even for those days
+eightpence must have been a small price for slippers. In 1686, Judge Samuel
+Sewall wrote to a member of the Hall family thanking him for “The Kind Loving
+Token—the East Indian Slippers for my wife.” Other colonial letters refer to
+Oriental slippers; and I am sure that Turkish slippers are worn by Lady Temple
+in her childish portrait, painted in company with her brother. Slip-shoes were
+evidently slippers—the word is used by Sewall; and slap-shoes are named by
+Randle Holme. Pantofles were also slippers, being apparently rather handsomer
+footwear than ordinary slippers or slip-shoes. They are in general specified as
+embroidered. Evelyn tells of the fine pantofles of the Pope embroidered with
+jewels on the instep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So great was the use and abuse of leather that a petition was made to
+Parliament in 1629 to attempt to restrict the making of great boots. One
+sentence runs:—
+</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>
+“The wearing of Boots is not the Abuse; but the generality of wearing and the
+manner of cutting Boots out with huge slovenly unmannerly immoderate tops. What
+over lavish spending is there in Boots and Shoes. To either of which is now
+added a French proud Superfluity of Leather.<br/>
+<br/>
+“For the general Walking in Boots it is a Pride taken up by the Courtier and is
+descended to the Clown. The Merchant and Mechanic walk in Boots. Many of our
+Clergy either in neat Boots or Shoes and Galloshoes. University Scholars
+maintain the Fashion likewise. Some Citizens out of a Scorn not to be Gentile
+go every day booted. Attorneys, Lawyers, Clerks, Serving Men, All Sorts of Men
+delight in this Wasteful Wantonness.<br/>
+<br/>
+“Wasteful I may well call it. One pair of boots eats up the leather of six
+reasonable pair of men’s shoes.”
+</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Jack-boots._Owned_by_Lord_Fairfax_of_Virginia."></a>
+<img src="images/409.jpg" alt="Jack-boots. Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia."
+/>
+<p class="caption">Jack-boots. Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+Monstrous boots seem to have been the one frivolity in dress which the Puritans
+could not give up. In the reign of Charles I boots were superb. The tops were
+flaring, lined within with lace or embroidered or fringed; thus when turned
+down they were richly ornamental. Fringes of leather, silk, or cloth edged some
+boot-tops on the outside; the leather itself was carved and gilded. The
+soldiers and officers of Cromwell’s army sometimes gave up laces and fringes,
+but not the boot-tops. The Earl of Essex, his general, had cloth fringes on his
+boots. (See his portrait facing <a href="#ROBERT_DEVEREUX">here</a>; also the
+portrait of Lord Fairfax <a
+href="#TherightHonourableFerdinandLordFairfax">here</a>.) In the court of
+Charles II and Louis XIV of France the boot-tops spread to absurd
+inconvenience. The toes of these boots were very square, as were the toes of
+men’s and women’s shoes. Children’s shoes were of similar form. The singular
+shoes worn by John Quincy and Robert Gibbes are precisely right-angled. It was
+a sneer at the Puritans that they wore pointed toes. The shoe-ties, roses, and
+buckles varied; but the square toes lingered, though they were singularly
+inelegant. On the feet of George I (see portrait <a href="#George_I.">here</a>)
+the square-toed shoes are ugly indeed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+James I scornfully repelled shoe-roses when brought to him for his wear; asking
+if they wished to “make a ruffle-footed dove” of him. But soon he wore the
+largest rosettes in court. Peacham tells that some cost as much as &pound;;30 a
+pair, being then, of course, of rare lace.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Joshua_Warner."></a>
+<img src="images/411.jpg" alt="Joshua Warner." />
+<p class="caption">Joshua Warner.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+<i>Friar Bacon’s Brazen Head Prophecie</i>, set into a “Plaie” or Rhyme, has
+these verses (1604):
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+“Then Handkerchers were wrought<br/>
+    With Names and true Love Knots;<br/>
+And not a wench was taught<br/>
+    A false Stitch in her spots;<br/>
+When Roses in the Gardaines grew<br/>
+And not in Ribons on a Shoe.<br/>
+<br/>
+“<i>Now</i> Sempsters few are taught<br/>
+    The true Stitch in their Spots;<br/>
+And Names are sildome wrought<br/>
+    Within the true love knots;<br/>
+And Ribon Roses takes such Place<br/>
+That Garden Roses want their Grace.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Shoes of buff leather, slashed, were the very height of the fashion in the
+first years of the seventeenth century. They can be seen on the feet of Will
+Sommers in his portrait. Through the slashes showed bright the scarlet or green
+stockings of cloth or yarn. Bright-colored shoe-strings gave additional
+gaudiness. Green shoe-strings, spangled, gilded shoe-strings, shoes of
+“dry-neat-leather tied with red ribbons,” “russet boots,” “white silken shoe
+strings,”—all were worn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Red heels appear about 1710. In Hogarth’s original paintings they are seen.
+Women wore them extensively in America.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The jack-boots of Stuart days seem absolutely imperishable. They are of black,
+jacked leather like the leather bottles and black-jacks from which Englishmen
+drank their ale. So closely are they alike that I do not wonder a French
+traveller wrote home that Englishmen drank from their boots. These jack-boots
+were as solid and unpliable as iron, square-toed and clumsy of shape. A pair in
+perfect preservation which belonged to Lord Fairfax in Virginia is portrayed <a
+href="#Jack-boots._Owned_by_Lord_Fairfax_of_Virginia.">here</a>. Had all
+colonial gentlemen worn jack-boots, the bootmakers and shoemakers would have
+been ruined, for a pair would last a lifetime.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Shoe_and_Knee_Buckles."></a>
+<img src="images/413.jpg" alt="Shoe and Knee Buckles." />
+<p class="caption">Shoe and Knee Buckles.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+In 1767 we find William Cabell of Virginia paying these prices for his finery:—
+</p>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: 3em;">
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound;</td><td>s.</td><td>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pair single channelled boots with straps</td><td> 1</td><td> 2</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pair Strong Buckskin Breeches</td><td>1</td><td> 10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>2 Pairs Fashionable Chain Silver Spurs </td><td> 2</td><td> 10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pair Silver Buttons </td><td></td><td> 6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 fine Magazine Blue Cloth Housing laced</td><td></td><td>12</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Strong Double Bridle</td><td></td><td>4</td><td> 6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>6 Pair Men’s fine Silk Hose</td><td> 4 </td><td> 4</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Buttons &amp;; trimmings for a coat</td><td> 5</td><td> 2</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>
+New England dandies wore, as did Monsieur A-la-mode:—
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+  “A pair of smart pumps made up of grain’d leather,<br/>
+   So thin he can’t venture to tread on a feather.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Buckles were made of pinchbeck, an alloy of four parts of copper and one part
+of zinc, invented by Christopher Pinchbeck, a London watchmaker of the
+eighteenth century. Buckles were also “plaited” and double “plaited” with gold
+and silver (which was the general spelling of plated). Plated buckles were cast
+in pinchbeck, with a pattern on the surface. A silver coating was laid over
+this. These buckles were set with marcasite, garnet, and paste jewels;
+sometimes they were of gold with real diamonds. But much imitation jewellery
+was worn by all people even of great wealth. Perhaps imitation is an incorrect
+word. The old paste jewels made no assertion of being diamonds. Steel cut in
+facets and combined with gold, made beautiful buckles. A number of rich shoe
+and garter buckles, owned in Salem, are shown <a
+href="#Shoe_and_Knee_Buckles.">here</a>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These old buckles were handsome, costly, dignified; they were becoming; they
+were elegant. Nevertheless, the fashionable world tired of its expensive and
+appropriate buckles; they suddenly were deemed inconveniently large, and plain
+shoe-strings took their place. This caused great commotion and ruin among the
+buckle-makers, who, with the fatuity of other tradespeople—the wig-makers, the
+hair-powder makers—in like calamitous changes of fashion, petitioned the Prince
+of Wales, in 1791, to do something to revive their vanishing trade. But it was
+like placing King Canute against the advancing waves of the sea.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Wedding_Slippers."></a>
+<img src="images/415.jpg" alt="Wedding Slippers." />
+<p class="caption">Wedding Slippers.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+When the Revolutionists in France set about altering and simplifying costume,
+they did away with shoe-buckles, and fastened their shoes with plain strings.
+Minister Roland, one day in 1793, was about to present himself to Louis XVI
+while he was wearing shoes with strings. The old Master of Ceremonies,
+scandalized at having to introduce a person in such a state of undress, looked
+despairingly at Dumouriez, who was present. Dumouriez replied with an equally
+hopeless gesture, and the words, “Hélas! oui, monsieur, tout est perdu.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+President Jefferson, with his hateful French notions, made himself especially
+obnoxious to conservative American folk by giving up shoe-buckles. I read in
+the <i>New York Evening Post</i> that when he received the noisy bawling band
+of admirers who brought into the White House the Mammoth Cheese (one of the
+most vulgar exhibitions ever seen in this country), he was “dressed in his suit
+of customary black, with shoes that laced tight round the ankle and closed with
+a neat leathern string.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When shoe-strings were established and trousers were becoming popular, there
+seemed to be a time of indecision as to the dress of the legs below the short
+pantaloons and above the stringed shoes. That point of indefiniteness was
+filled promptly with top-boots. First, black tops appeared; then came tops of
+fancy leather, of which yellow was the favorite. Gilt tassels swung pleasingly
+from the colored tops. Silken tassels—home made—were worn. I have a letter from
+a young American macaroni to his sweetheart in which he thanks her for her
+“heart-filling boot-tossels”—which seems to me a very cleverly flattering
+adjective. He adds: “Did those rosy fingers twist the silken strands, and knot
+them with thought of the wearer? I wish you was loveing enough to tye some
+threads of your golden hair into the tossells, but I swear I cannot find never
+a one.” The conjunction of two negatives in this manner was common usage a
+hundred years ago; while “you was” may be found in the writings of our greatest
+authors of that date.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In one attribute, women’s footwear never varied in the two centuries of this
+book’s recording. It was always thin-soled and of light material; never
+adequate for much “walking abroad” or for any wet weather. In fact, women have
+never worn heavy walking-boots until our own day. Whether high-heeled or
+no-heeled they were always thin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The curious “needle-pointed” slippers which are pictured <a
+href="#Wedding_Slippers_and_Brocade._1712.">here</a> were the bridal slippers
+at the wedding of Cornelia de Peyster, who married Oliver Teller in 1712.
+Several articles of her dress still exist; and the background of the slippers
+is a breadth of the superb yellow and silver brocade wedding gown worn at the
+same time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When we have the tiny pages of the few newspapers to turn to, we learn a little
+of women’s shoes. There were advertisements in 1740 of “mourning shoes,” “fine
+silk shoes,” “flowered russet shoes,” “white callimanco shoes,” “black shammy
+shoes,” “girls’ flowered russet shoes,” “shoes of black velvet, white damask,
+red morocco, and red everlasting.” “Damask worsted shoes in red, blue, green,
+pink color and white,” in 1751. There were satinet patterns for ladies’ shoes
+embroidered with flowers in the vamp. The heels were “high, cross-cut, common,
+court, and wurtemburgh.” Some shoes were white with russet bands. “French fall”
+shoes were worn both by women and men for many years.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="Mrs._Abigail_Bromfield_Rogers."></a>
+<img src="images/418.jpg" alt="Mrs. Abigail Bromfield Rogers." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Abigail Bromfield Rogers.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#Wedding_Slippers.">Here</a> is a pair of beautiful brocade wedding
+shoes. The heels are not high. Another pair was made of the silken stuff of the
+beautiful sacque worn by Mrs. Carroll. These have high heels running down to a
+very small heel-base. In the works of Hogarth we may find many examples of
+women’s shoes. In all the old shoes I have seen, made about the time of the
+American Revolution, the maker’s name is within and this legend, “Rips mended
+free.” Many heels were much higher and smaller than any given in this book.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="MrsCarrollsSlippers"></a>
+<img src="images/419.jpg" alt="Mrs. Carroll’s Slippers." />
+<p class="caption">Mrs. Carroll’s Slippers.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It is astonishing to read the advocacy and eulogy given by sensible gentlemen
+to these extreme heels. Watson, the writer of the <i>Annals of
+Philadelphia</i>, extolled their virtues—that they threw the weight of the
+wearer on the ball of the foot and spread it out for a good support. He
+deplores the flat feet of 1830.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In 1790 heels disappeared; sandal-shapes were the mode. The quarters were made
+low, and instead of a buckle was a tiny bow or a pleated ribbon edging. In 1791
+“the exact size” of the shoe of the Duchess of York was published—a fashionable
+fad which our modern sensation hunters have not bethought themselves of. It was
+5 3/4 inches in length; the breadth of sole, 1 3/4 inches. It was a colored
+print, and shows that the lady’s shoe was of green silk spotted with gold
+stars, and bound with scarlet silk. The sole is thicker at the back, forming a
+slight uplift which was not strictly a heel. Of course, this was a tiny foot,
+but we do not know the height of the duchess.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have seen the remains of a charming pair of court shoes worn in France by a
+pretty Boston girl. These had been embroidered with paste jewels, “diamonds”;
+while to my surprise the back seam of both shoes was outlined with paste
+emeralds. I find that this was the mode of the court of Marie Antoinette. The
+queen and her ladies wore these in real jewels, and in affectation wore no
+jewels elsewhere.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In Mrs. Gaskell’s <i>My Lady Ludlow</i> we are told that my lady would not
+sanction the mode of the beginning of the century which “made all the fine
+ladies take to making shoes.” Mrs. Blundell, in one of her novels, sets her
+heroine (about 1805) at shoe-making. The shoes of that day were very thin of
+material, very simple of shape, were heelless, and in many cases closely
+approached a sandal. A pair worn by my great-aunt at that date is shown on this
+page. American women certainly had tiny feet. This aunt was above the average
+height, but her shoes are no larger than the number known to-day as “Ones”—a
+size about large enough for a girl ten years old.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+
+<a name="White_Kid_Slippers._1815."></a>
+<img src="images/421.jpg" alt="White Kid Slippers. 1815." />
+<p class="caption">White Kid Slippers. 1815.
+</p></div>
+
+<p>
+It was not long after English girls were making shoes that Yankee girls were
+shaping and binding them in New England. I have seen several old letters which
+gave rules for shaping and directions for sewing party-shoes of thin light kid
+and silk. It is not probable that any heavy materials were ever made up by
+women at home. Sandals also were worn, and made by girls for their own wear
+from bits of morocco and kid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the early years of the century the thin, silk hose and low slippers of the
+French fashions proved almost unendurable in our northern winters. One wearer
+of the time writes, “Many a time have I walked Broadway when the pavement sent
+almost a death chill to my heart.” The Indians then furnished an article of
+dress which must have been grateful indeed, pretty moccasins edged with fur, to
+be worn over the thin slippers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An old lady recalled with precision that the first boots for women’s wear came
+in fashion in 1828; they were laced at the side. Garters and boots both had
+fringes at the top.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CENTURIES OF COSTUME IN AMERICA, VOL. 1 (1620-1820) ***</div>
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+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<html>
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1">
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Two Centuries of Costume in America, Vol. 1 (1620-1820), by Alice Morse Earle</title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+    <!--
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Two Centuries of Costume in America, Vol. 1
+(1620-1820),<br>
+by Alice Morse Earle</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.net">www.gutenberg.net</a>
+
+Title: Two Centuries of Costume in America, Vol. 1 (1620-1820)
+
+Author: Alice Morse Earle
+
+Release Date: November 17, 2003  [eBook #10115]
+
+Language: English
+
+Chatacter set encoding: iso-8859-1
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CENTURIES OF COSTUME IN AMERICA,
+VOL. 1 (1620-1820)***
+
+
+
+</pre>
+<center><h3>E-text prepared by Charles Aldarondo, Keren Vergon, Susan Skinner,<br>
+            and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3></center>
+<hr class="full">
+
+
+<h2>TWO CENTURIES OF COSTUME IN AMERICA
+<br>
+MDCXX-MDCCCXX</h2>
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<br>
+
+<h3>ALICE MORSE EARLE
+<br>
+AUTHOR OF &quot;SUN-DIALS AND ROSES OF YESTERDAY&quot; &quot;OLD TIME GARDENS,&quot; ETC.</h3>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>VOLUME I</h2>
+
+<h4>Nineteen Hundred and Three</h4>
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+
+<center>
+<a name="Madam_Padishal_and_Child."></a>
+<img src="images\423.png" alt="Madam Padishal and Child.">
+<h4>Madam Padishal and Child.</h4>
+</center>
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> <p><i>To George P. Brett</i></p>
+
+<blockquote><i>&quot;An honest Stationer (or Publisher) is he, that
+exercizeth his Mystery (whether it be in printing, bynding or selling of
+Bookes) with more respect to the glory of God &amp; the publike aduantage
+than to his owne Commodity &amp; is both an ornament &amp; a profitable
+member in a ciuill Commonwealth.... If he be a Printer he makes conscience
+to exemplefy his Coppy fayrely &amp; truly. If he be a Booke-bynder, he is
+no meere Bookeseller (that is) one who selleth meerely ynck &amp; paper
+bundled up together for his owne aduantage only: but he is a Chapman of
+Arts, of wisdome, &amp; of much experience for a little money.... The
+reputation of Schollers is as deare unto him as his owne: For, he
+acknowledgeth that from them his Mystery had both begining and means of
+continuance. He heartely loues &amp; seekes the Prosperity of his owne
+Corporation: Yet he would not iniure the Uniuersityes to advantage it. In a
+word, he is such a man that the State ought to cherish him; Schollers to
+loue him; good Customers to frequent his shopp; and the whole Company of
+Stationers to pray for him.&quot;</i><br> <br> --GEORGE WITHER,
+1625.<br></blockquote>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> <h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<h3>VOL. I</h3>
+
+<br>
+
+<p><a href="#I">I. APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#II">II. DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="##III">III. ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR
+NEIGHBORS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="##IV">IV. A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="##V">V. THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="##VI">VI. RUFFS AND BANDS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="##VII">VII. CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="##VIII">VIII. THE VENERABLE HOOD</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="##IX">IX. CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="##X">X. THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="##XI">XI. PERUKES AND PERIWIGS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="##XII">XII. THE BEARD</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="##XIII">XIII. PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="##XIV">XIV. BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES</a></p>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> <h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN
+VOLUME I</h2> <br>
+
+<p><a href="#Madam_Padishal_and_Child.">MADAM PADISHAL AND CHILD</a></p>
+
+<p><i>Frontispiece</i></p>
+
+<p>This fine presentation of the dress of a gentlewoman and infant child,
+in the middle of the seventeenth century, hung in old Plymouth homes in the
+Thomas and Stevenson families till it came by inheritance to the present
+owner, Mrs. Greely Stevenson Curtis of Boston, Mass. The artist is unknown.
+</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Governor_John_Endicott">JOHN ENDICOTT</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Dorchester, Eng., 1589. Died in Boston, Mass., 1665. He
+emigrated to America in 1628; became governor of the colony in 1644, and
+was major-general of the colonial troops. He hated Indians, the Church of
+Rome, and Quakers. He wears a velvet skull-cap, and a finger-ring, which is
+somewhat unusual; a square band; a richly fringed and embroidered glove;
+and a &quot;stiletto&quot; beard. This portrait is in the Essex Institute,
+Salem, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Governor_Edward_Winslow.">EDWARD WINSLOW</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in England, 1595; died at sea, 1655. One of the founders of the
+Plymouth colony in 1620; and governor of that colony in 1633, 1636, 1644.
+This portrait is dated 1651. It is in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Governor_John_Winthrop.">JOHN WINTHROP</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in England, 1588; died in Boston, 1649. Educated at Trinity
+College, Cambridge; admitted to the Inner Temple, 1628. Made governor of
+Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1629. Arrived in Salem, 1630. His portrait by
+Van Dyck and a fine miniature exist. The latter is owned by American
+Antiquarian Society, Worcester, Mass. This picture is copied from a very
+rare engraving from the miniature, which is finer and even more thoughtful
+in expression than the portrait. Both have the lace-edged ruff, but the
+shape of the dress is indistinct.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Governor_Simon_Bradstreet.">SIMON BRADSTREET</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in England, 1603; died in Salem, Mass., 1697. He was governor of
+the colony when he was ninety years old. The Labadists, who visited him,
+wrote: &quot;He is an old man, quiet and grave; dressed in black silk, but
+not sumptuously.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Sir_Richard_Saltonstall.">SIR RICHARD SALTONSTALL</a></p>
+
+<p>A mayor of London who came to Salem among the first settlers. The New
+England families of his name are all descended from him. He wears buff-coat
+and trooping scarf. This portrait was painted by Rembrandt.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Sir_Walter_Raleigh.">SIR WALTER RALEIGH</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Devonshire, Eng., 1552; executed in London, 1618. A courtier,
+poet, historian, nobleman, soldier, explorer, and colonizer. He was the
+favorite of Elizabeth; the colonizer of Virginia; the hero of the Armada;
+the victim of King James. In this portrait he wears a slashed jerkin; a
+lace ruff; a broad trooping scarf with great lace shoulder-knot; a jewelled
+sword-belt; full, embroidered breeches; lace-edged garters, and vast
+shoe-roses, which combine to form a confused dress.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Sir_Walter_Raleigh_and_Son.">SIR WALTER RALEIGH AND
+SON</a></p>
+
+<p>This print was owned by the author for many years, with the written
+endorsement by some unknown hand, <i>Martin Frobisher and Son</i>. I am
+glad to learn that it is from a painting by Zucchero of Raleigh and his
+son, and is owned at Wickham Court, in Kent, Eng., by the descendant of one
+of Raleigh's companions in his explorations. The child's dress is less
+fantastic than other portraits of English children of the same date.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#ROBERT_DEVEREUX">ROBERT DEVEREUX, EARL OF ESSEX</a></p>
+
+<p>From an old print. A general of Cromwell's army.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Cromwell_dissolving_Parliament.">OLIVER CROMWELL DISSOLVING
+PARLIAMENT</a></p>
+
+<p>From an old Dutch print.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Sir_William_Waller.">SIR WILLIAM WALLER</a></p>
+
+<p>A general in Cromwell's army. Born, 1597; died, 1668. He served in the
+Thirty Years' War. This portrait is in the National Portrait Gallery.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_right_Honourable_Ferdinand--Lord_Fairfax.">LORD
+FAIRFAX</a></p>
+
+<p>A general in Cromwell's army. From an old print.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Alderman_Abell_and_Richard_Kilvert">ALDERMAN ABELL AND RICHARD
+KILVERT</a></p>
+
+<p>From an old print.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Reverend_John_Cotton.">REV. JOHN COTTON, D.D.</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Derby, Eng., 1585; died at Boston, Mass., in 1652. A Puritan
+clergyman who settled in Boston in 1633. He drew up for the colonists, at
+the request of the General Court, an abstract of the laws of Moses entitled
+<i>Moses His Judicials</i>, which was of greatest influence in the
+formation of the laws of the colony. This portrait is owned by Robert C.
+Winthrop, Esq.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Reverend_Cotton_Mather.">REV. COTTON MATHER, D.D.</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Boston, Mass., 1683; died in Boston, Mass., 1728. A clergyman,
+author, and scholar. His book, <i>Magnalia Christi Americana</i>, an
+ecclesiastical history of New England, is of much value, though most
+trying. He took an active and now much-abhorred part in the Salem
+witchcraft. This portrait is owned by the American Antiquarian Society,
+Worcester, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Slashed_Sleeves,_temp._Charles I.">SLASHED SLEEVES</a></p>
+
+<p>From portraits <i>temp</i>. Charles I. The first is from a Van Dyck
+portrait of the Earl of Stanhope, and has a rich, lace-edged cuff. The
+second, with a graceful lawn undersleeve, is from a Van Dyck of Lucius
+Gary, Viscount Falkland. The third is from a painting by Mytens of the Duke
+of Hamilton. The fourth, by Van Dyck, is from one of Lord Villiers,
+Viscount Grandison.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Mrs._William_Clark.">MRS. KATHERINE CLARK</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1602; died, 1671. An English gentlewoman renowned in her day for
+her piety and charity.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Lady_Mary_Armine.">LADY MARY ARMINE</a></p>
+
+<p>An English lady of great piety, whose gifts to Christianize the Indians
+make her name appear in the early history of Massachusetts. Her black
+domino and frontlet are of interest. This portrait was painted about
+1650.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_Tub-preacher.">THE TUB-PREACHER</a></p>
+
+<p>An old print of a Quaker meeting. Probably by Marcel Lawson.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Old_Venice_Point_Lace.">VENICE POINT LACE</a></p>
+
+<p>Owned by Mrs. Robert Fulton Crary of Poughkeepsie, N.Y.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">REBECCA RAWSON</a></p>
+
+<p>The daughter of Edward Rawson, Secretary of State. Born in Boston in
+1656; married in 1679 to an adventurer, Thomas Rumsey, who called himself
+Sir Thomas Hale. She died at sea, in 1692. This portrait is owned by New
+England Historic Genealogical Society.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Elizabeth_Paddy_Wensley.">ELIZABETH PADDY</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Plymouth, Mass., in 1641. Daughter of William Paddy; she married
+John Wensley of Plymouth. Their daughter Sarah married Dr. Isaac Winslow.
+This portrait is in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">MRS. SIMEON STODDARD</a></p>
+
+<p>A wealthy Boston gentlewoman. This portrait was painted in the latter
+half of the seventeenth century. It is owned by the Massachusetts
+Historical Society.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Ancient_Black_Lace.">ANCIENT BLACK LACE</a></p>
+
+<p>Owned by Mrs. Robert Fulton Crary, Poughkeepsie, N.Y.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Virago-sleeve.">VIRAGO-SLEEVE</a></p>
+
+<p>From a French portrait.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Ninon_de_l'Enclos.">NINON DE L'ENCLOS</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Paris, 1615; died in 1705. Her dress has a slashed virago-sleeve
+and lace whisk.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Lady_Catharina_Howard.">LADY CATHERINE HOWARD</a></p>
+
+<p>Grandchild of the Earl of Arundel. Aged thirteen years. Drawn in 1646 by
+W. Hollar.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Costumes_of_Englishwomen_of_the_Seventeenth_Century.">COSTUMES
+OF ENGLISHWOMEN OF SEVENTEENTH CENTURY</a></p>
+
+<p>Plates from <i>Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus, or Several Habits of
+Englishwomen</i>, 1640. By Wenceslaus Hollar, an engraver of much note and
+much performance; born at Prague, 1607; died in England, 1677. This book
+contains twenty-six plates illustrating women's dress in all ranks of life
+with absolute fidelity.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Mrs._Livingstone.">GERTRUDE SCHUYLER LIVINGSTONE</a></p>
+
+<p>Second wife and widow of Robert Livingstone. The curiously plaited
+widow's cap can be seen under her hood.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Mrs._Magdalen_Beekman.">MRS. MAGDALEN BEEKMAN</a></p>
+
+<p>Died in New York in 1730. Widow of Gerardus Beekman, who died in
+1723.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Lady_Anne_Clifford.">LADY ANNE CLIFFORD</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1590. Daughter of George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland. Painted in
+1603.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Lady_Herrman.">LADY HERRMAN</a></p>
+
+<p>Of Bohemia Manor, Maryland. Wife of a pioneer settler. From <i>Some
+Colonial Mansions</i>. Published by Henry T. Coates &amp; Co.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Elizabeth_Cromwell.">ELIZABETH CROMWELL</a></p>
+
+<p>Mother of Oliver Cromwell. She died at Whitehall in 1654, aged 90 years.
+This portrait is at Hinchinbrook, and is owned by the Earl of Sandwich. It
+was painted by Robert Walker. Her dress is described as &quot;a green
+velvet cardinal, trimmed with gold lace.&quot; Her hood is white satin.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Pocahontas.">POCAHONTAS</a></p>
+
+<p>Daughter of Powhatan, and wife of Mr. Thomas Rolfe. Born 1593; died
+1619; aged twenty-one when this was painted. The portrait is owned by a
+member of the Rolfe family.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Duchess_of_Buckingham_and_her_Two_Children.">DUCHESS OF
+BUCKINGHAM AND CHILDREN</a></p>
+
+<p>Painted in 1626 by Gerard Honthorst. In the original the Duke of
+Buckingham is also upon the canvas. He was George Villiers, the
+&quot;Steenie&quot; of James I, who was assassinated by John Felton. The
+duchess was the daughter of the Earl of Rutland. The little daughter was
+afterwards Duchess of Richmond and Lenox. The baby was George, the second
+Duke of Buckingham, poet, politician, courtier, the friend of Charles II.
+The picture is now in the National Portrait Gallery.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#A_Woman's_Doublet._Mrs._Anne_Turner.">A WOMAN'S
+DOUBLET</a></p>
+
+<p>Worn by the infamous Mrs. Anne Turner.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#A_Puritan_Dame.">A PURITAN DAME</a></p>
+
+<p>Plate from <i>Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus</i>.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Penelope_Winslow.">PENELOPE WINSLOW</a></p>
+
+<p>Painted in 1651. Dress dull olive; mantle bright red; pearl necklace,
+ear-rings and pearl bandeau in hair. The hair is curled as the hair in
+portraits of Queen Henrietta Maria. In Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Gold-fringed_Gloves_of_Governor_Leverett.">GOLD-FRINGED GLOVES
+OF GOVERNOR LEVERETT</a></p>
+
+<p>In Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Embroidered_Petticoat_Band.">EMBROIDERED PETTICOAT-BAND,
+1750</a></p>
+
+<p>Bright-colored crewels on linen. Owned by the Misses Manning of Salem,
+Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Blue_Brocade_Gown_and_Quilted_Satin_Petticoat.">BLUE DAMASK
+GOWN AND QUILTED SATIN PETTICOAT</a></p>
+
+<p>These were owned by Mrs. James Lovell, who was born 1735; died, 1817.
+Through her only daughter, Mrs. Pickard, who died in 1812, they came to her
+only child, Mary Pickard (Mrs. Henry Ware, Jr.), whose heirs now own them.
+They are in the keeping of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#A_Plain_Jerkin.">A PLAIN JERKIN</a></p>
+
+<p>This portrait is of Martin Frobisher, hero of the Armada; explorer in
+1576, 1577, and 1578 for the Northwestern Passage, and discoverer of
+Frobisher's Bay. He died in 1594.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#A_Doublet.">CLOTH DOUBLET</a></p>
+
+<p>This portrait is of Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire. Owned by the
+Duke of Bedford. It shows a plain cloth doublet with double row of turreted
+welts at the shoulder. Horace Walpole says of this portrait, &quot;He is
+quite in the style of Queen Elizabeth's lovers; red-bearded, and not
+comely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a href="#JAMES_DUKE_OF_YORK">JAMES, DUKE OF YORK</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1633. Afterwards James II of England. This scene in a tennis-court
+was painted about 1643.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#An_Embroidered_Jerkin.">EMBROIDERED JERKIN</a></p>
+
+<p>This portrait is of George Carew, Earl of Totnes. It was painted by
+Zucchero, and is owned by the Earl of Verulam. He wears a rich jerkin with
+four laps on each side below the belt; it is embroidered in sprigs, and
+guarded on the seams. The sleeves are detached. He wears also a rich
+sword-belt and ruff.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#John_Lilburne.">JOHN LILBURNE</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Greenwich, Eng., in 1614; died in 1659. A Puritan soldier,
+politician, and pamphleteer. He was fined, whipped, pilloried, tried for
+treason, sedition, controversy, libel. He was imprisoned in the Tower,
+Newgate, Tyburn, and the Castle. He was a Puritan till he turned Quaker.
+His sprawling boots, dangling knee-points, and silly little short doublet
+form a foolish dress.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Colonel_William_Legge.">COLONEL WILLIAM LEGGE</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in 1609. Died in 1672. He was a stanch Royalist. His portrait is by
+Jacob Huysmans, and is in the National Portrait Gallery.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#205">SIR THOMAS ORCHARD KNIGHT, 1646</a></p>
+
+<p>From an old print indorsed &quot;S Glover ad vivum delineavit
+1646.&quot; He is in characteristic court-dress, with slashed sleeves,
+laced cloak, laced garters, and shoe-roses. His hair and beard are like
+those of Charles II.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_English_Antick.">THE ENGLISH ANTICK</a></p>
+
+<p>From a broadside of 1646.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#George_I.">GEORGE I OF ENGLAND</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Hanover, 1660. Died in Hanover, 1727. Crowned King of England in
+1714. This portrait is by Sir Godfrey Kneller, and is in the National
+Portrait Gallery. It is remarkable for its ribbons and curious shoes.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Three_Cassock_Sleeves_and_a_Buff-coat_Sleeve.">THREE CASSOCK
+SLEEVES AND A BUFF-COAT SLEEVE</a></p>
+
+<p><i>Temp</i>. Charles I. The first sleeve is from a portrait of Lord
+Bedford. The second, with shoulder-knot of ribbon, was worn by Algernon
+Sidney; the third is from a Van Dyck portrait of Viscount Grandison; the
+fourth, the sleeve of a curiously slashed buff-coat worn by Sir Philip
+Sidney.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Henry_Bennet,_Earl_of_Arlington.">HENRY BENNET, EARL OF
+ARLINGTON</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1618; died, 1685. From the original by Sir Peter Lely. This is
+asserted to be the costume chosen by Charles II in 1661 &quot;to wear
+forever.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Funeral_Procession.">FIGURES FROM FUNERAL PROCESSION OF THE
+DUKE OF ALBEMARLE IN 1670</a></p>
+
+<p>These drawings of &quot;Gentlemen,&quot; &quot;Earls,&quot;
+&quot;Clergymen,&quot; &quot;Physicians,&quot; and &quot;Poor Men&quot; are
+by F. Sanford, Lancaster Herald, and are from his engraving of the Funeral
+Procession of George Monk, Duke of Albemarle.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Earl_of_Southampton.">EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, HENRY
+WRIOTHESLEY.</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1573. Died in The Netherlands in 1624. He was the friend of
+Shakespere, and governor of the Virginia Company. This portrait is by
+Mierevelt.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#A_Bowdoin_Portrait.">A BOWDOIN PORTRAIT</a></p>
+
+<p>This fine portrait is by a master's hand. The name of the subject is
+unknown. The initials would indicate that he was a Bowdoin, or a Baudouine,
+which was the name of the original emigrant. It has been owned by the
+Bowdoin family until it was presented to Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Me.,
+where it now hangs in the Walker Art Building.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#William_Pyncheon.">WILLIAM PYNCHEON</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1590; died, 1670. This portrait was painted in 1657. It is in an
+unusual dress, with the only double row of buttons I have seen on a
+portrait of that date. It also shows no hair under the close cap.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Reverend_Jonathan_Edwards.">JONATHAN EDWARDS, D.D.</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, Windsor, Conn., 1703. Died, Princeton, N.J., 1758. A theologian,
+metaphysician, missionary, author, and president of Princeton
+University.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Captain_George_Curwen.">GEORGE CURWEN</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in England, 1610; died in Salem, 1685. He came to Salem in 1638,
+where he was the most prominent merchant, and commanded a troop of horse,
+whereby he acquired his title of Captain. He is in military dress. Portrait
+owned by Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Lace_Gorget_and_Cane">WALKING-STICK AND LACE FRILL,
+1660</a></p>
+
+<p>These articles are in the Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Governor_Coddington.">WILLIAM CODDINGTON</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Leicestershire, Eng., 1601; died in Rhode Island, 1678. One of
+the founders of the Rhode Island Colony, and governor for many years.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Thomas_Fayerweather.">THOMAS FAYERWEATHER</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1692; died, 1733, in Boston. Married, in 1718, Hannah Waldo,
+sister of Brigadier-general Samuel Waldo. This portrait is by Smybcrt. It
+is owned by his descendants, Miss Elizabeth L. Bond and Miss Catherine
+Harris Bond, of Cambridge, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a
+href="#&quot;King&quot;_Carter_in_Youth,_by_Sir_Godfrey_Kneller.">&quot;KIN
+&quot; CARTER IN YOUTH</a></p>
+
+
+<p><a href="#City_Flat-cap">CITY FLAT-CAP</a></p>
+
+<p>Worn by &quot;Bilious&quot; Bale, who died in 1563. His square beard,
+coif, and citizen's flat-cap were worn by Englishmen till 1620.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#King_James_I_of_England.">KING JAMES I OF ENGLAND</a></p>
+
+<p>This portrait was painted before he was king of England. It is now in
+the National Portrait Gallery.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Fulke_Greville_(Lord_Brooke).">FULKE GREVILLE, LORD
+BROOKE</a></p>
+
+<p>In doublet, with curious slashed tabs or bands at the waist, forming a
+roll like a woman's farthingale. The hat, with jewelled hat-band, is of a
+singular and ugly shape.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#James_Douglas_(Earl_of_Morton).">JAMES DOUGLAS, EARL OF
+MORTON</a></p>
+
+<p>His hat, band, and jerkin are unusual.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Elihu_Yale.">ELIHU YALE</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Boston, Mass., in 1648. Died in England in 1721. He founded Yale
+College, now Yale University. This portrait is owned by Yale University,
+New Haven, Conn.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Thomas_Cecil">THOMAS CECIL, FIRST EARL OF EXETER</a></p>
+
+<p>Died in 1621.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Cornelius_Steinwyck.">CORNELIUS STEINWYCK</a></p>
+
+<p>The wealthiest merchant of New Amsterdam in the seventeenth century.
+This portrait is owned by the New York Historical Society.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Hat_with_a_Glove_as_a_Favor.">HAT WITH GLOVE AS A
+FAVOR</a></p>
+
+<p>From portrait of George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland. He died in
+1605.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Gulielma_Penn.">GULIELMA SPRINGETT PENN</a></p>
+
+<p>First wife of William Penn. Born, 1644; died, 1694. The original
+painting is on glass. Owned by the heirs of Henry Swan, Dorking, Eng.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Hannah_Callowhill_Penn.">HANNAH CALLOWHILL PENN</a></p>
+
+<p>Second wife of William Penn; from a portrait now in Blackwell Hall,
+County Durham, Eng.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Madame_de_Miramion.">MADAME DE MIRAMION</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1629; died in Paris, 1696.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_Strawberry_Girl.">THE STRAWBERRY GIRL</a></p>
+
+<p>From Tempest's <i>Cries of London</i>.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Black_Silk_Hood.">OPERA HOOD, OR CARDINAL, OF BLACK
+SILK</a></p>
+
+<p>It is now in Boston Museum of Fine Arts.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Quilted_Hood.">QUILTED HOOD</a></p>
+
+<p>Owned by Miss Mary Atkinson of Doylestown, Pa.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Pink_Silk_Hood.">PINK SILK HOOD</a></p>
+
+<p>Owned by Miss Alice Browne of Salem, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Pug_Hood.">PUG HOOD</a></p>
+
+<p>Owned by Miss Alice Browne of Salem, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Scarlet_Broadcloth_Hooded_Cloak.">SCARLET CLOAK</a></p>
+
+<p>This fine broadcloth cloak and hood were worn by Judge Curwen. They are
+in perfect preservation, owing, in later years, to the excellent care given
+them by their present owner, Miss Bessie Curwen, of Salem, Mass., a
+descendant of the original owner.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Judge_Stoughton.">JUDGE STOUGHTON</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Woman's_Cloak._From_Hogarth.">WOMAN'S CLOAK</a></p>
+
+<p>From Hogarth.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#A_Capuchin._From_Hogarth.">A CAPUCHIN</a></p>
+
+<p>From Hogarth.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Lady_Caroline_Montagu.">LADY CAROLINE MONTAGU</a></p>
+
+<p>Daughter of Duke of Buccleuch. Painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds in
+1776.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#John_Quincy.">JOHN QUINCY</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1686. This portrait is owned by Brooks Adams, Esq., Boston,
+Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Miss_Campion,_1667.">Miss CAMPION</a></p>
+
+<p>From Andrew W. Tuer's <i>History of the Hornbook</i>. This portrait has
+hung for two centuries in an Essex manor-house. Its date, 1661, is but nine
+years earlier than the portraits of the Gibbes children, and the dress is
+the same. The cavalier hat and cuffs are the only varying detail.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Infant's_Cap.">INFANT'S CAP</a></p>
+
+<p>Tambour work, 1790.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Eleanor_Foster._1755.">ELEANOR FOSTER</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1746. She married Dr. Nathaniel Coffin, of Portland, Me., and
+became the mother of the beautiful Martha, who married Richard C. Derby.
+This portrait was painted in 1755. It is owned by Mrs. Greely Stevenson
+Curtis of Boston, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#311">WILLIAM, PRINCE OF ORANGE</a></p>
+
+<p>From an old print.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Mrs._Theodore_Sedgwick_and_Daughter.">MRS. THEODORE S.
+SEDGWICK AND DAUGHTER.</a></p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Sedgwick was Pamela Dwight. This portrait was painted by Ralph
+Earle, and exhibits one of his peculiarities. The home of the subject of
+the portrait is shown through an open window, though the immediate
+surroundings are a room within the house. The child is Catherine M.
+Sedgwick, the poet. This painting is owned in Stockbridge by members of the
+family.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Infant_Child_of_Francis_Hopkinson">INFANT CHILD OF FRANCIS
+HOPKINSON, THE SIGNER</a></p>
+
+<p>A drawing in crayon by the child's father. The child carries a coral and
+bells.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Mary_Seton,_1763.">MARY SETON</a></p>
+
+<p>1763. Died in 1800, aged forty. Married John Wilkes of New York. White
+frock and blue scarf.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_Bowdoin_Children.">THE BOWDOIN CHILDREN</a></p>
+
+<p>Lady Temple and Governor James Bowdoin in childhood. The artist of this
+pleasing portrait is unknown. I think it was painted by Blackburn. It is
+now in the Walker Art Gallery, at Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Me.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Miss_Lydia_Robinson">Miss LYDIA ROBINSON</a></p>
+
+<p>Aged twelve years, daughter of Colonel James Robinson, Salem, Mass.
+Painted by M. Corn&eacute; in 1808. Owned by the Essex Institute, Salem,
+Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Knitted_Flaxen_Mittens.">KNITTED FLAXEN MITTENS</a></p>
+
+<p>These are knitted upon finest wire needles, of linen thread, which had
+been spun, and the flax raised and prepared by the knitter.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Mrs._Elizabeth_Lux_Russell_and_Daughter">MRS. ELIZABETH (LUX)
+RUSSELL AND DAUGHTER.</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Christening_Shirt_and_Mitts_of_Governor_Bradford">CHRISTENING
+SHIRT AND MITTS OF GOVERNOR BRADFORD.</a></p>
+
+<p>White linen with pinched sleeves and chaney ruffles and fingertips.
+Owned by Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Flanders_Lace_Mitts.">FLANDERS LACE MITTS</a></p>
+
+<p>These infant's mitts were worn in the sixteenth century, and came to
+Salem with the first emigrants. Owned by Essex Institute, Salem, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Infant's_Adjustable_Cap.">INFANT'S ADJUSTABLE CAP</a></p>
+
+<p>This has curious shirring-strings to make it fit heads of various sizes.
+It is home spun and woven, and the lace edging is home knit.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Rev._J.P._Dabney_when_a_Child.">REV. JOHN P. DABNEY, WHEN A
+CHILD IN 1806</a></p>
+
+<p>This portrait of a Salem minister in childhood is in jacket and
+trousers, with openwork collar and ruffles. It is now owned by the Essex
+Institute, Salem, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Robert_Gibbes.">ROBERT GIBBES</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1665. This portrait is dated 1670. It is owned by Miss Sarah B.
+Hager of Kendal Green, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Nankeen_Breeches_with_Silver_Buttons.">NANKEEN BREECHES, WITH
+SILVER BUTTONS. 1790</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Ralph_Izard_when_a_Little_Boy._1750.">RALPH IZARD, WHEN A
+LITTLE BOY</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Charleston, S. C., 1742; died in 1804. Painted in 1750. He was
+United States Senator 1789-1795. This debonair little figure in blue
+velvet, silk-embroidered waistcoat, silken hose, buckled shoes, and black
+hat, gold-laced, is a miniature courtier. The portrait is now owned by
+William E. Huger, Esq., of Charleston, S.C.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Governor_and_Reverend_Gurdon_Saltonstall.">GOVERNOR AND
+REVEREND GURDON SALTONSTALL</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in 1666; died in 1724. Governor of Connecticut, 1708-24. He was
+also ordained a minister of the church at New London.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Mayor_Rip_Van_Dam.">MAYOR RIP VAN DAM</a></p>
+
+<p>Mayor of New York in 1710.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Abraham_De_Peyster.">JUDGE ABRAHAM DE PEYSTER OF NEW
+YORK</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Governor_De_Bienville.">GOVERNOR DE BIENVILLE, JEAN BAPTISTE
+LEMOINE</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Montreal, Can., 1680. Died in 1768. French Governor of Louisiana
+for many years. He founded New Orleans. The original is in Longeuil,
+Can.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Daniel_Waldo.">DANIEL WALDO</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Boston, 1724; died in 1808. Married Rebecca Salisbury.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Reverend_John_Marsh.">REV. JOHN MARSH, HARTFORD, CONN</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#John_Adams_in_Youth.">JOHN ADAMS IN YOUTH</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Braintree, Mass., 1735; died at Quincy, Mass., 1826. Second
+President of the United States, 1797-1801. He was a member of Congress,
+signer of Declaration of Independence, Commissioner to France, Ambassador
+to The Netherlands, Peace Commissioner to Great Britain, Minister to Court
+of St. James. This portrait in youth is in a wig. Throughout life he wore
+his hair bushed out at the ears.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Jonathan_Edwards,_2nd.">JONATHAN EDWARDS, D.D.</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in 1745; died in 1801. He was a son of the great Jonathan Edwards,
+and was President of Union College, Schenectady, 1799-1801. This portrait
+shows the fashion of dressing the hair when wigs and powder had been
+banished and the hair hung lank and long in the neck.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Patrick_Henry.">PATRICK HENRY</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in Virginia, 1736; died in Charlotte County, Va., in 1799. An
+orator, patriot, and a leader in the American Revolution. He organized the
+Committees of Correspondence, was a member of Continental Congress, 1774,
+of the Virginia Convention, 1775, and was governor of Virginia for several
+terms. This portrait shows him in lawyer's close wig and robe.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#&quot;King&quot;_Carter._Died_1732.">&quot;KING&quot;
+CARTER</a></p>
+
+<p>Died, 1732.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Judge_Benjamin_Lynde.">JUDGE BENJAMIN LYNDE, OF SALEM AND
+BOSTON, MASS</a></p>
+
+<p>Died, 1745. Painted by Smybert.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#John_Rutledge.">JOHN RUTLEDGE</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, Charleston, S.C., 1739; died, 1800. He was member of Congress,
+governor of South Carolina, chief justice of Supreme Court. His hair is
+tied in cue.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Campaign,_Ramillies,_Bob,_and_Pigtail_Wigs.">CAMPAIGN,
+RAMILLIES, BOB, AND PIGTAIL WIGS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Rev._William_Welsteed.">REV. WILLIAM WELSTEED</a></p>
+
+<p>From an engraving by Copley, his only engraving.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Thomas_Hopkinson.">THOMAS HOPKINSON</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in London, 1709. Came to America in 1731. Married Mary Johnson in
+1736. Made Judge of the Admiralty in 1741. Died in 1751. He was the father
+of Francis the Signer. This portrait is believed to be by Sir Godfrey
+Kneller.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Reverend_Dr._Barnard">REV. DR. BARNARD</a></p>
+
+<p>A Connecticut clergyman.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Andrew_Ellicott.">ANDREW ELLICOTT</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1754; died, 1820. A Maryland gentleman of wealth and position.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Herbert_Westphaling,_Bishop_of_Hereford.">HERBERT
+WESTPHALING</a></p>
+
+<p>Bishop of Hereford, Eng.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_Herald_Vandum.">HERALD CORNELIUS VANDUM.</a></p>
+
+<p>Born, 1483; died, 1577, aged ninety-four years. Yeoman of the Guard and
+usher to Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary, and Elizabeth. His beard is
+unique.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Scotch_Beard.">SCOTCH BEARD</a></p>
+
+<p>Worn by Alexander Ross, 1655.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Dr._William_Slater._Cathedral_Beard.">DR. WILLIAM
+SLATER</a></p>
+
+<p>Cathedral beard.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Dr._John_Dee._1600.">DR. JOHN DEE</a></p>
+
+<p>Born in London, 1527; died, 1608. An English mathematician, astrologer,
+physician, author, and magician. He wrote seventy-nine books, mostly on
+magic. His &quot;pique-a-devant&quot; beard might well &quot;a man's eye
+out-pike.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Iron_and_Leather_Pattens._1760.">IRON AND LEATHER PATTENS,
+1760</a></p>
+
+<p>Owned by author.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Oak,_Iron,_and_Leather_Clogs._1790.">OAK, IRON, AND LEATHER
+CLOGS</a></p>
+
+<p>In Museum of Bucks County Historical Society, Penn.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#English_Clogs.">ENGLISH CLOGS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chopines,_Seventeenth_Century">CHOPINES</a></p>
+
+<p>Drawing from Chopines in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. The tallest
+chopine had a sole about nine inches thick.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Brides'_Clogs_of_Brocade_and_Sole_Leather.">WEDDING
+CLOGS</a></p>
+
+<p>These clogs are of silk brocade, and were made to match brocade
+slippers. The one with pointed toe would fit the brocaded shoes of the year
+1760. The other has with it a high-heeled, black satin slipper of the year
+1780, to show how they were worn. They forced a curious shuffling step.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Clogs_of_&quot;Pennsylvania_Dutch.&quot;">CLOGS OF
+PENNSYLVANIA DUTCH</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Children's_Clogs._1730.">CHILD'S CLOGS</a></p>
+
+<p>About 1780. Owned by Bucks County Historical Society.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#The_Copley_Family_Picture.">COPLEY FAMILY PICTURE</a></p>
+
+<p>This group, consisting of the artist, John Singleton Copley, his wife,
+who was formerly a young widow, Susannah Farnham; his wife's father,
+Richard Clarke, a most respected Boston merchant who was wealthy until
+ruined by the War of the Revolution; and the four little Copley children.
+Elizabeth is between four and five; John Singleton, Jr., is the boy of
+three, who afterwards became Lord Lyndhurst; Mary is aged two, and an
+infant is in the grandfather's arms. Copley was born in 1737, and must have
+been about thirty-seven when this was painted in 1775. It is deemed by many
+his masterpiece. The portrait is owned by Mr. Amory, but is now in the
+custody of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. It is most pronounced, almost
+startling, in color, every tint being absolutely frank.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Wedding_Slippers_and_Brocade._1712.">WEDDING SLIPPERS AND
+BROCADE STRIP, 1712</a></p>
+
+<p>Owned by Mrs. Thomas Robinson Harris, of Scarboro on the Hudson,
+N.Y.</p>
+
+<p><a
+href="#Jack-boots._Owned_by_Lord_Fairfax_of_Virginia.">JACK-BOOTS</a></p>
+
+<p>Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Joshua_Warner.">JOSHUA WARNER</a></p>
+
+<p>A Portsmouth gentleman. This portrait is now in the Boston Museum of
+Fine Arts.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Shoe_and_Knee_Buckles.">SHOE AND KNEE BUCKLES</a></p>
+
+<p>They are shoe-buckles, breeches-buckles, garter-buckles, stock-buckles.
+Some are cut silver and gold; others are cut steel; some are paste. Some of
+these were owned by Dr. Edward Holyoke, of Salem, and are now owned by Miss
+Susan W. Osgood, of Salem, Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Wedding_Slippers.">WEDDING SLIPPERS</a></p>
+
+<p>Worn in 1760 by granddaughter of Governor Simon Bradstreet. Owned by
+Miss Mary S. Cleveland, of Salem, Mass. Their make and finish are curious;
+they have paste buckles.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Mrs._Abigail_Bromfield_Rogers.">ABIGAIL BROMFIELD
+ROGERS</a></p>
+
+<p>Painted by Copley in Europe. Owned by Miss Annette Rogers, of Boston,
+Mass.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#Mrs._Carroll's_Slippers.">SLIPPERS</a></p>
+
+<p>Worn by Mrs. Carroll with the brocade silk sacque. They are embroidered
+in the colors of the brocade.</p>
+
+<p><a href="#White_Kid_Slippers._1815.">WHITE KID SLIPPERS, 1810</a></p>
+
+<p>Owned by author.</p>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> <h2><a name="I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+
+<h3>APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS</h3>
+<blockquote><i>&quot;Deep-skirted doublets, puritanic capes<br>
+Which now would render men like upright apes<br>
+Was comelier wear, our wiser fathers thought<br>
+Than the cast fashions from all Europe brought&quot;</i><br>
+<br>
+--&quot;New England's Crisis,&quot; BENJAMIN TOMPSON, 1675.<br>
+<br><br>
+<i>&quot;I am neither Niggard nor Cynic to the due Bravery of the true Gentry.&quot;</i><br>
+<br>
+--&quot;The simple Cobbler of Agawam,&quot; J. WARD, 1713.<br>
+<br><br>
+<i>&quot;Never was it happier in England than when an Englishman was
+known abroad by his own cloth; and contented himself at home with his
+fine russet carsey hosen, and a warm slop; his coat, gown, and cloak
+of brown, blue or putre, with some pretty furnishings of velvet or
+fur, and a doublet of sad-tawnie or black velvet or comely silk,
+without such cuts and gawrish colours as are worn in these dayes by those
+who think themselves the gayest men when they have most diversities of
+jagges and changes of colours.&quot;</i><br>
+<br>
+--&quot;Chronicles,&quot; HOLINSHED, 1578.<br>
+<br><br></blockquote>
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> <h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>APPAREL OF THE PURITAN AND PILGRIM FATHERS</h3>
+
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\initiali.png" align=left
+alt="I"> t is difficult to discover the reasons, to trace the influences
+which have resulted in the production in the modern mind of that composite
+figure which serves to the everyday reader, the heedless observer, as the
+counterfeit presentment of the New England colonist,--the Boston Puritan or
+Plymouth Pilgrim. We have a very respectable notion, a fairly true picture,
+of Dutch patroon, Pennsylvania Quaker, and Virginia planter; but we see a
+very unreal New Englishman. This &quot;gray old Gospeller, sour as
+midwinter,&quot; appears with goodwife or dame in the hastily drawn
+illustrations of our daily press; we find him outlined with greater care
+but equal inaccuracy in our choicer periodical literature; we have him
+depicted by artists in our handsome books and on the walls of our art
+museums; he is cut in stone and cast in bronze for our halls and parks; he
+is dressed by actors for a part in some historical play; he is furbished up
+with conglomerate and makeshift garments by enthusiastic and confident
+young folk in tableau and fancy-dress party; he is richly and amply attired
+by portly, self-satisfied members of our patriotic-hereditary societies; we
+constantly see these figures garbed in semblance in some details, yet never
+in verisimilitude as a whole figure.</p>
+
+<p>We are wont to think of our Puritan forbears, indeed we are determined
+to think of them, garbed in sombre sad-colored garments, in a life devoid
+of color, warmth, or fragrance. But sad color was not dismal and dull save
+in name; it was brown in tone, and brown is warm, and being a primitive
+color is, like many primitive things, cheerful. Old England was garbed in
+hearty honest russet, even in the days of our colonization. Read the list
+of the garments of any master of the manor, of the honest English yeoman,
+of our own sturdy English emigrants from manor and farm in Suffolk and
+Essex. What did they wear across seas? What did they wear in the New World?
+What they wore in England, namely: Doublets of leathers, all brown in tint;
+breeches of various tanned skins and hides; untanned leather shoes; jerkins
+of &quot;filomot&quot; or &quot;phillymort&quot; (feuille morte), dead-leaf
+color; buff-coats of fine buff leather; tawny camlet cloaks and jackets of
+&quot;du Boys&quot; (which was wood color); russet hose; horseman's coats
+of tan-colored linsey-woolsey or homespun ginger-lyne or brown perpetuana;
+fawn-colored mandillions and deer-colored cassocks--all brown; and
+sometimes a hat of natural beaver. Here is a &quot;falding&quot; doublet of
+&quot;treen color&quot;--and what is treen but wooden and wood color is
+brown again.</p>
+
+<p>It was a fitting dress for their conditions of life. The colonists lived
+close to nature--they touched the beginnings of things; and we are close to
+nature when all dress in russet. The homely &quot;butternuts&quot; of the
+Kentucky mountains express this; so too does khaki, a good, simple native
+dye and stuff; so eagerly welcomed, so closely cherished, as all good and
+primitive things should be.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Governor_John_Endicott"></a>
+<img src="images\020.png" alt="Governor John Endicott">
+<H4>Governor John Endicott</H4>
+<br><br>
+</center>
+
+<p>So when I think of my sturdy Puritan forbears in the summer planting of
+Salem and of Boston, I see them in &quot;honest russet kersey&quot;; gay
+too with the bright stamell-red of their waistcoats and the grain-red
+linings of mandillions; scarlet-capped are they, and enlivened with many a
+great scarlet-hooded cloak. I see them in this attire on shipboard, where
+they were greeted off Salem with &quot;a smell from the shore like the
+smell of a garden&quot;; I see them landing in happy June amid &quot;sweet
+wild strawberries and fair single roses.&quot; I see them walking along the
+little lanes and half-streets in which for many years bayberry and
+sweet-fern lingered in dusty fragrant clumps by the roadside.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Scented with Caedar and Sweet Fern<br>
+From Heats reflection dry,&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>wrote of that welcoming shore one colonist who came on the first ship,
+and noted in rhyme what he found and saw and felt and smelt. And I see the
+forefathers standing under the hot little cedar trees of the Massachusetts
+coast, not sober in sad color, but cheery in russet and scarlet; and
+sweetbrier and strawberries, bayberry and cedar, smell sweetly and glow
+genially in that summer sunlight which shines down on us through all these
+two centuries.</p>
+
+<p>We have ample sources from which to learn precisely what was worn by
+these first colonists--men and women--gentle and simple. We have minute
+&quot;Lists of Apparell&quot; furnished by the Colonization Companies to
+the male colonists; we have also ample lists of apparel supplied to
+individual emigrants of varied degree; we have inventories in detail of the
+personal estates of all those who died in the colonies even in the earliest
+years--inventories wherein even a half-worn pair of gloves is gravely set
+down, appraised in value, sworn to, and entered in the town records; we
+have wills giving equal minuteness; we have even the articles of dress
+themselves preserved from moth and rust and mildew; we have private letters
+asking that supplies of clothing be sent across seas--clothing substantial
+and clothing fashionable; we have ships' bills of lading showing that these
+orders were carried out; we have curiously minute private letters giving
+quaint descriptions and hints of new and modish wearing apparel; we have
+sumptuary laws telling what articles of clothing must not be worn by those
+of mean estate; we have court records showing trials under these laws; we
+have ministers' sermons denouncing excessive details of fashion,
+enumerating and almost describing the offences; and we have also a goodly
+number of portraits of men and a few of women. I give in this chapter
+excellent portraits of the first governors, Endicott, Winthrop, Bradstreet,
+Winslow; and others could be added. Having all these, do we need
+fashion-plates or magazines of the modes? We have also for the early years
+great instruction through comparison and inference in knowing the English
+fashions of those dates as revealed through inventories, compotuses,
+accounts, diaries, letters, portraits, prints, carvings, and effigies; and
+American fashions varied little from English ones.</p>
+
+<center>
+<br><br>
+<a name="Governor_Edward_Winslow."></a>
+<img src="images\022.png" alt="Governor Edward Winslow.">
+<H4>Governor Edward Winslow.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>It is impossible to disassociate the history of costume from the general
+history of the country where such dress is worn. Nor could any one write
+upon dress with discrimination and balance unless he knew thoroughly the
+dress of all countries and likewise the history of all countries. Of the
+special country, he must know more than general history, for the relations
+of small things to great things are too close. Influences apparently remote
+prove vital. At no time was history told in dress, and at no period was
+dress influenced by historical events more than during the seventeenth
+century and in the dress of English-speaking folk. The writer on dress
+should know the temperament and character of the dress wearer; this was of
+special bearing in the seventeenth century. It would be thought by any one
+ignorant of the character of the first Puritan settlers, and indifferent to
+or ignorant of historical facts, that in a new world with all the
+hardships, restraints, lacks, and inconveniences, no one, even the vainest
+woman, would think much upon dress, save that it should be warm,
+comfortable, ample, and durable. But, in truth, such was not the case. Even
+in the first years the settlers paid close attention to their attire, to
+its richness, its elegance, its modishness, and watched narrowly also the
+attire of their neighbors, not only from a distinct liking for dress, but
+from a careful regard of social distinctions and from a regard for the
+proprieties and relations of life. Dress was a badge of rank, of social
+standing and dignity; and class distinctions were just as zealously guarded
+in America, the land of liberty, as in England. The Puritan church preached
+simplicity of dress; but the church attendants never followed that
+preaching. All believed, too, that dress had a moral effect, as it
+certainly does; that to dress orderly and well and convenable to the
+existing fashions helped to preserve the morals of the individual and
+general welfare of the community. Eagerly did the settlers seek every year,
+every season, by every incoming ship, by every traveller, to learn the
+changes of fashions in Europe. The first native-born poet, Benjamin
+Tompson, is quoted in the heading of this chapter in a wail over thus
+following new fashions, a wail for the &quot;good old times,&quot; as has
+been the cry of &quot;old fogy&quot; poets and philosophers since the days
+of the ancient classics.</p>
+
+<p>We have ample proof of the love of dignity, of form, of state, which
+dominated even in the first struggling days; we can see the governor of
+Virginia when he landed, turning out his entire force in most formal attire
+and with full company of forty halberdiers in scarlet cloaks to attend in
+imposing procession the church services in the poor little church
+edifice--this when the settlement at Jamestown was scarce more than an
+encampment.</p>
+
+<p>We can read the words of Winthrop, the governor of Massachusetts, in
+which he recounts his mortification at the undignified condition of affairs
+when the governor of the French province, the courtly La Tour, landed
+unexpectedly in Boston and caught the governor picnicking peacefully with
+his family on an island in the harbor, with no attendants, no soldiers, no
+dignitaries. Nor was there any force in the fort, and therefore no salute
+could be given to the distinguished visitors; and still more mortifying was
+the sole announcement of this important arrival through the hurried sail
+across the bay, and the running to the governor of a badly scared woman
+neighbor. We see Winthrop trying to recover his dignity in La Tour's eyes
+(and in his own) by bourgeoning throughout the remainder of the French
+governor's stay with an imposing guard of soldiers in formal attendance at
+every step he took abroad; ordering them to wear, I am sure, their very
+fullest stuffed doublets and shiniest armor, while he displayed his best
+black velvet suit of garments. Fortunately for New England's appearance,
+Winthrop was a man of such aristocratic bearing and feature that no dress
+or lack of dress could lower his dignity.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Governor_John_Winthrop."></a>
+<img src="images\026.png" alt="Governor John Winthrop.">
+<H4>Governor John Winthrop.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Our forbears did not change their dress by emigrating; they may have
+worn heavier clothing in New England, more furs, stronger shoes, but I
+cannot find that they adopted simpler or less costly clothing; any change
+that may have been made through Puritan belief and teaching had been made
+in England. All the colonists</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot; ... studied after nyce array,<br>
+And made greet cost in clothing.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Many persons preferred to keep their property in the form of what they
+quaintly called &quot;duds.&quot; The fashion did not wear out more apparel
+than the man; for clothing, no matter what its cut, was worn as long as it
+lasted, doing service frequently through three generations. For instance,
+we find Mrs. Epes, of Ipswich, Massachusetts, when she was over fifty years
+old, receiving this bequest by will: &quot;If she desire to have the suit
+of damask which was the Lady Cheynies her grandmother, let her have it upon
+appraisement.&quot; I have traced a certain flowered satin gown and
+&quot;manto&quot; in four wills; a dame to her daughter; she to her sister;
+then to the child of the last-named who was a granddaughter of the first
+owner. And it was a proud possession to the last. The fashions and shapes
+then did not change yearly. The Boston gentlewoman of 1660 would not have
+been ill dressed or out of the mode in the dress worn by her grandmother
+when she landed in 1625.</p>
+
+<p>Petty details were altered in woman's dress--though but slightly; the
+change of a cap, a band, a scarf, a ruffle, meant much to the wearer,
+though it seems unimportant to us to-day. Men's dress, we know from
+portraits, was unaltered for a time save in neckwear and hair-dressing,
+both being of such importance in costume that they must be written upon at
+length.</p>
+
+<p>Let us fix in our minds the limit of reign of each ruler during the
+early years of colonization, and the dates of settlement of each colony.
+When Elizabeth died in 1603, the Brownist Puritans or Separatists were well
+established in Holland; they had been there twenty years. They were
+dissatisfied with their Dutch home, however, and had had internal
+quarrels--one, of petty cause, namely, a &quot;topish Hatt,&quot; a
+&quot;Schowish Hood,&quot; a &quot;garish spitz-fashioned Stomacher,&quot;
+the vain garments of one woman; but the strife over these
+&quot;abhominations&quot; lasted eleven years.</p>
+
+<p>James I was king when the Pilgrims came to America in 1620; but Charles
+I was on the throne in 1630 when John Winthrop arrived with his band of
+friends and followers and settled in Salem and Boston.</p>
+
+<p>The settlement of Portsmouth and Dover in New Hampshire was in 1623, and
+in Maine the same year. The settlements of the Dutch in New Netherland were
+in 1614; while Virginia, named for Elizabeth, the Virgin Queen, and
+discovered in her day, was settled first of all at Jamestown in 1607. The
+Plymouth colony was poor. It came poor from Holland, and grew poorer
+through various misfortunes and set-backs--one being the condition of the
+land near Plymouth. The Massachusetts Bay Company was different. It came
+with properties estimated to be worth a million dollars, and it had
+prospered wonderfully after an opening year of want and distress. The
+relative social condition and means of the settlers of Jamestown, of
+Plymouth, of Boston, were carefully investigated from English sources by a
+thoughtful and fair authority, the historian Green. He says of the Boston
+settlers in his <i>Short History of the English People</i>:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Those Massachusetts settlers were not like the earlier
+colonists of the South; broken men, adventurers, bankrupts, criminals; or
+simply poor men and artisans like the Pilgrim Fathers of the
+<i>Mayflower</i>. They were in great part men of the professional and
+middle classes, some of them men of large landed estate, some zealous
+clergymen, some shrewd London lawyers or young scholars from Oxford. The
+bulk were God-fearing farmers from Lincolnshire and the Eastern
+counties.&quot;<br> </blockquote>
+
+<p>A full comprehension of these differences in the colonies will make us
+understand certain conditions, certain surprises, as to dress; for
+instance, why so little of the extreme Puritan is found in the dress of the
+first Boston colonists.</p>
+
+<p>There lived in England, near the close of Elizabeth's reign, a Puritan
+named Philip Stubbes, to whom we are infinitely indebted for our knowledge
+of English dress of his times. It was also the dress of the colonists; for
+details of attire, especially of men's wear, had not changed to any extent
+since the years in which and of which Philip Stubbes wrote.</p>
+
+<p>He published in 1586 a book called <i>An Anatomie of Abuses</i>, in
+which he described in full the excesses of England in his day. He wrote
+with spirited, vivid pen, and in plain speech, leaving nothing unspoken
+lest it offend, and he used strong, racy English words and sentences. In
+his later editions he even took pains to change certain &quot;strange,
+inkhorn terms&quot; or complicate words of his first writing into simpler
+ones. Thus he changed <i>preter time</i> to <i>former ages; auditory</i> to
+<i>hearers; prostrated</i> to <i>humbled; consummate</i> to <i>ended</i>;
+and of course this was to the book's advantage. Unusual words still linger,
+however, but we must believe they are not intentionally
+&quot;outlandish&quot; as was the term of the day for such words.</p>
+
+<p>The attitude of Stubbes toward dress and dress wearers is of great
+interest, for he was certainly one of the most severe, most determined,
+most conscientious of Puritans; yet his hatred of &quot;corruptions
+desiring reformation&quot; did not lead him to a hatred of dress in itself.
+He is careful to state in detail in the body of his book and in his preface
+that his attack is not upon the dress of people of wealth and station; that
+he approves of rich dress for the rich. His hatred is for the pretentious
+dress of the many men of low birth or of mean estate who lavish their all
+in dress ill suited to their station; and also his reproof is for swindling
+in dress materials and dress-making; against false weights and measures,
+adulterations and profits; in short, against abuses, not uses.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Governor_Simon_Bradstreet."></a>
+<img src="images\030.png" alt="Governor Simon Bradstreet.">
+<H4>Governor Simon Bradstreet.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>His words run thus explicitly:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Whereas I have spoken of the excesse in apparell, and of
+the Abuse of the same as wel in Men as in Women, generally I would not be
+so understood as though my speaches extended to any either noble honorable
+or worshipful; for I am farre from once thinking that any kind of
+sumptuous or gorgeous Attire is not to be worn of them; as I suppose them
+rather Ornaments in them than otherwise. And therefore when I speak of
+excesse of Apparel my meaning is of the inferiour sorte only who for the
+most parte do farre surpasse either noble honorable or worshipful,
+ruffling in Silks Velvets, Satens, Damaske, Taffeties, Gold Silver and
+what not; these bee the Abuses I speak of, these bee the Evills that I
+lament, and these bee the Persons my wordes doe concern.&quot;<br>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>There was ample room for reformation from Stubbes's point of view.</p>
+
+<blockquote> &quot;There is such a confuse mingle mangle of apparell and
+such preponderous excess thereof, as every one is permitted to flaunt it
+out in what apparell he has himself or can get by anie kind of means. So
+that it is verie hard to know who is noble, who is worshipful, who is a
+gentleman, who is not; for you shall have those who are neither of the
+nobilytie, gentilitie, nor yeomanrie goe daylie in silks velvets satens
+damasks taffeties notwithstanding they be base by byrth, meane by estate
+and servyle by calling. This a great confusion, a general disorder. God
+bee mercyfull unto us.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>This regard of dress was, I take it, the regard of the Puritan reformer
+in general; it was only excess in dress that was hated. This was certainly
+the estimate of the best of the Puritans, and it was certainly the belief
+of the New England Puritan. It would be thought, and was thought by some
+men, that in the New World liberty of religious belief and liberty of dress
+would be given to all. Not at all!--the Puritan magistrates at once set to
+work to show, by means of sumptuary laws, rules of town settlement, and
+laws as to Sunday observance and religious services, that nothing of the
+kind was expected or intended, or would be permitted willingly. No
+religious sects and denominations were welcome save the Puritans and allied
+forms--Brownists, Presbyterians, Congregationalists. For a time none other
+were permitted to hold services; no one could wear rich dress save
+gentlefolk, and folk of wealth or some distinction--as Stubbes said,
+&quot;by being in some sort of office&quot;</p>
+
+<p>We shall find in the early pages of this book frequent references to
+Stubbes's descriptions of articles of dress, but his own life has some
+bearing on his utterances; so let me bear testimony as to his character and
+to the absolute truth of his descriptions. He was held up in his own day to
+contempt by that miserable Thomas Nashe who plagiarized his title and
+helped his own dull book into popularity by calling it <i>The Anatomie of
+Absurdities</i>; and who further ran on against him in a still duller book,
+<i>An Almand for a Parrat</i>. He called Stubbes &quot;A MarPrelate Zealot
+and Hypocrite&quot; and Stubbes has been held up by others as a morose man
+having no family ties and no social instincts. He was in reality the
+tenderest of husbands to a modest, gentle, pious girl whom he married when
+she was but fourteen, and with whom he lived in ideal happiness until her
+death in child-birth when eighteen years old. He bore testimony to his
+happiness and her goodness in a loving but sad and trying book
+&quot;intituled&quot; <i>A Christiall Glasse for Christian Women</i>. It is
+a record of a life which was indeed pure as crystal; a life so retiring, so
+quiet, so composed, so unvarying, a life so remote from any gentlewoman's
+life to day that it seems of another ether, another planet, as well as of
+another century. But it is useful for us to know it, notwithstanding its
+background of gloomy religionism and its air of unreality; for it helps us
+to understand the character of Puritan women and of Philip Stubbes. This
+fair young wife died in an ecstasy, her voice triumphant, her face radiant
+with visions of another and a glorious life. And yet she was not wholly
+happy in death; for she had a Puritan conscience, and she thought she
+<i>must</i> have offended God in some way. She had to search far indeed for
+the offence; and this was it--it would be absurd if it were not so true and
+so deep in its sentiment of regret. She and her husband had set their
+hearts too much in affection upon a little dog that they had loved well,
+and she found now that &quot;it was a vanitye&quot;; and she repented of
+it, and bade them bear the dog from her bedside. Knowing Stubbes's love for
+this little dog (and knowing it must have been a spaniel, for they were
+then being well known and beloved and were called &quot;Spaniel-gentles or
+comforters&quot;--a wonderfully appropriate name), I do not much mind the
+fierce words with which he stigmatizes the vanity and extravagance of
+women. I have a strong belief too that if we knew the dress of his
+child-wife, we would find that he liked her bravely even richly attired,
+and that he acquired his wonderful mastery of every term and detail of
+women's dress, every term of description, through a very uxorious regard of
+his wife's apparel.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Sir_Richard_Saltonstall."></a>
+<img src="images\034.png" alt="Sir Richard Saltonstall.">
+<H4>Sir Richard Saltonstall.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Of the absolute truth of every word in Stubbes's accounts we have ample
+corroborative proof. He wrote in real earnest, in true zeal, for the reform
+of the foolery and extravagance he saw around him, not against imaginary
+evils. There is ample proof in the writings of his contemporaries--in
+Shakespere's comparisons, in Harrison's sensible <i>Description of
+England</i>, in Tom Coryat's <i>Crudities</i>--and oddities--of the
+existence of this foolishness and extravagance. There is likewise ample
+proof in the sumptuary laws of Elizabeth's day.</p>
+
+<p>It would have been the last thing the solemn Stubbes could have liked or
+have imagined, that he should have afforded important help to future
+writers upon costume, yet such is the case. For he described the dress of
+English men and women with as much precision as a modern reporter of the
+modes. No casual survey of dress could have furnished to him the detail of
+his description. It required much examination and inquiry, especially as to
+the minutiae of women's dress. Therefore when I read his bitter pages (if I
+can forget the little pet spaniel) I have always a comic picture in my mind
+of a sour, morose, shocked old Puritan, &quot;a meer, bitter, narrow-sould
+Puritan&quot; clad in cloak and doublet, with great horn spectacles on
+nose, and ample note-book, penner, and ink-horn in hand, agonizingly though
+eagerly surveying the figure of one of his fashion-clad women neighbors,
+walking around her slowly, asking as he walked the name of this jupe, the
+price of that pinner, the stuff of this sleeve, the cut of this cap,
+groaning as he wrote it all down, yet never turning to squire or knight
+till every detail of her extravagance and &quot;greet cost&quot; is
+recorded. In spite of all his moralizing his quill pen had too sharp a
+point, his scowling forehead and fierce eyes too keen a power of vision
+ever to render to us a dull page; even the author of <i>Wimples and
+Crisping Pins</i> might envy his powers of perception and description.</p>
+
+<p>The bravery of the Jacobean gallant did not differ in the main from his
+dress under Elizabeth; but in details he found some extravagances. The
+love-locks became more prominent, and shoe-roses and garters both grew in
+size. Pomanders were carried by men and women, and
+&quot;casting-bottles.&quot; Gloves and pockets were perfumed. As musk was
+the favorite scent this perfume-wearing is not over-alluring. As a
+preventive of the plague all perfumes were valued.</p>
+
+<p>Since a hatred and revolt against this excess was one of the conditions
+which positively led to the formation of the Puritan political party if not
+of the Separatist religious faith, and as a consequence to the settlement
+of the English colonies in America, let us recount the conditions of dress
+in England when America was settled. Let us regard first the dress of a
+courtier whose name is connected closely and warmly in history and romance
+with the colonization of America; a man who was hated by the Pilgrim and
+Puritan fathers but whose dress in some degree and likeness, though
+modified and simplified, must have been worn by the first emigrants to
+Virginia across seas--let us look at the portrait of Sir Walter Raleigh. He
+was a hero and a scholar, but he was also a courtier; and of a court, too,
+where every court-attendant had to bethink himself much and ever of dress,
+for dress occupied vastly the thought and almost wholly the public
+conversation of his queen and her successor.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Sir_Walter_Raleigh."></a>
+<img src="images\037.png" alt="Sir Walter Raleigh.">
+<H4>Sir Walter Raleigh.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>To understand Raleigh's dress, you must know the man and his life; to
+comprehend its absurdities and forgive its follies and see whence it
+originated, you must know Elizabeth and her dress; you must see her with
+&quot;oblong face, eyes small, yet black; her nose a little hooked, her
+lips narrow, her teeth black; false hair and that red,&quot;--these are the
+striking and plain words of the German ambassador to her court. You must
+look at this queen with her colorless meagre person lost in a dress
+monstrous in size, yet hung, even in its enormous expanse of many square
+yards, with crowded ornaments, tags, jewels, laces, embroideries, gimp,
+feathers, knobs, knots, and aglets, with these bedizened rankly,
+embellished richly. You must see her talking in public of buskins and
+gowns, love-locks and virginals, anything but matters of seriousness or of
+state; you must note her at a formal ceremonial tickling handsome Dudley in
+the neck; watch her dancing, &quot;most high and disposedly&quot; when in
+great age; you must see her giving Essex a hearty boxing of the ear; hear
+her swearing at her ministers. You must remember, too, her parents, her
+heritage. From King Henry VIII came her love of popularity, her great
+activity, her extraordinary self-confidence, her indomitable will, her
+outbursts of anger, her cruelty, just as came her harsh, mannish voice.
+From her mother, Anne Boleyn, came her sensuous love of pleasure, of dress,
+of flattery, of gayety and laughter. Her nature came from her mother, her
+temper from her father. The familiarity with Robert Dudley was but a piece
+with her boisterous romps in her girlhood, and her flap in the face of
+young Talbot when he saw her &quot;unready in my night-stuff.&quot; But she
+had more in her than came from Henry and Anne; she had her own
+individuality, which made her as hard as steel, made her resolute, made her
+live frugally and work hard, and, above all, made her know her limitations.
+The woman, be she queen or the plainest mortal, who can estimate accurately
+her own limitations, who is proof against enthusiasm, proof against
+ambition, and, at a climax, proof against flattery, who knows what she can
+<i>not</i> do, in that very thing finds success. Elizabeth was and ever
+will be a wonderful character-study; I never weary of reading or thinking
+of her.</p>
+
+<p>The settlement of Massachusetts was under James I; but costume varied
+little, save that it became more cumbersome. This may be attributed
+directly to the cowardice of the king, who wore quilted and
+padded--dagger-proof--clothing; and thus gave to his courtiers an example
+of stuffing and padding which exceeded even that of the men of Elizabeth's
+day. &quot;A great, round, abominable breech,&quot; did the satirists call
+it. Stays had to be worn beneath the long-waisted, peascod-bellied, stuffed
+doublet to keep it in shape; thus a man's attire had scarcely a single
+natural outline.</p>
+
+<p>We have this description of Raleigh, courtier and &quot;servant&quot; of
+Elizabeth and victim of James, given by a contemporary, Aubrey:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;He looked like a Knave with his gogling eyes. He could
+transform himself into any shape. He was a tall, handsome, bold man; but
+his naeve was that he was damnably proud. A good piece of him is in a white
+satin doublet all embroidered with rich pearls, and a mighty told me that
+the true pearls were nigh as big as the painted ones. He had a most
+remarkable aspect, an exceeding high forehead, long faced, and sour
+eie-lidded, a kind of pigge-eie.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>We leave the choice of belief between one sentence of this personal
+description, that he was handsome, and the later plain-spoken details to
+the judgment of the reader. Certainly both statements cannot be true. As I
+look at his portrait, the &quot;good piece of him&quot; <a
+href="#Sir_Walter_Raleigh.">here</a>, I wholly disbelieve the former.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Sir_Walter_Raleigh_and_Son."></a>
+<img src="images\040.png" alt="Sir Walter Raleigh and Son.">
+<H4>Sir Walter Raleigh and Son.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>His laced-in, stiffened waist, his absurd breeches, his ruffs and sashes
+and knots, his great shoe-roses, his jewelled hatband, make this a
+fantastic picture, one of little dignity, though of vast cost. The jewels
+on his shoes were said to have cost thirty thousand pounds; and the perfect
+pearls in his ear, as seen in another portrait, must have been an inch and
+a half long. He had doublets entirely covered with a pattern of jewels. In
+another portrait (<a href="#Sir_Walter_Raleigh_and_Son.">here</a>) his
+little son, poor child, stands by his side in similar stiff attire. The
+famous portrait of Sir Philip Sidney and his brother is equally comic in
+its absurdity of costume for young lads.</p>
+
+<p>Read these words descriptive of another courtier, of the reign of James;
+his favorite, the Duke of Buckingham:--</p>
+
+<blockquote> &quot;With great buttons of diamonds, and with diamond hat
+bands, cockades and ear-rings, yoked with great and manifold knots of
+pearls. At his going over to Paris in 1625 he had twenty-seven suits of
+clothes made the richest that embroidery, gems, lace, silk, velvet, gold
+and stones could contribute; one of which was a white uncut velvet set all
+over suit and cloak with diamonds valued at &pound;14,000 besides a great
+feather stuck all over with diamonds, as were also his sword, girdle,
+hat-band and spurs.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>These were all courtiers, but we should in general think of an English
+merchant as dressed richly but plainly; yet here is the dress of Marmaduke
+Rawdon, a merchant of that day:--</p>
+
+<blockquote> &quot;The apparell he rid in, with his chaine of gold and hat
+band was vallued in a thousand Spanish ducats; being two hundred and
+seventy and five pounds sterling. His hatband was of esmeralds set in
+gold; his suite was of a fine cloth trim'd with a small silke and gold
+fringe; the buttons of his suite fine gold--goldsmith's work; his rapier
+and dagger richly hatcht with gold.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>The white velvet dress of Buckingham showed one of the extreme fashions
+of the day, the wearing of pure white. Horace Walpole had a full-length
+painting of Lord Falkland all in white save his black gloves. Another of
+Sir Godfrey Hart, 1600, is all in white save scarlet heels to the shoes.
+These scarlet heels were worn long in every court. Who will ever forget
+their clatter in the pages of Saint Simon, as they ran in frantic haste
+through hall and corridor--in terror, in cupidity, in satisfaction, in zeal
+to curry favor, in desire to herald the news, in hope to obtain office, in
+every mean and detestable spirit--ran from the bedside of the dying king?
+We can still hear, after two centuries, the noisy, heartless tapping of
+those hurrying red heels.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="ROBERT_DEVEREUX"></a>
+<img src="images\043.png" alt="Robert Devereux">
+<H4>Robert Devereux</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Look at the portrait of another courtier, Sir Robert Dudley, who died in
+1639; not the Robert Dudley who was tickled in the neck by Queen Elizabeth
+while he was being dubbed earl; not the Dudley who murdered Amy Robsart,
+but his disowned son by a noble lady whom he secretly married and
+dishonored. This son was a brave sailor and a learned man. He wrote the
+<i>Arcana del Mare</i>, and he was a sportsman; &quot;the first of all that
+taught a dog to sit in order to catch partridges.&quot; His portrait shows
+clumsy armor and showy rings, a great jewel and a vast tie of gauze ribbon
+on one arm; on the other a cord with many aglets; he wears marvellously
+embroidered, slashed, and bombasted breeches, tight hose, a heavily
+jewelled, broad belt; and a richly fringed scarf over one shoulder, and
+ridiculous garters at his calf. It is so absurd, so vain a dress one cannot
+wonder that sensible gentlemen turned away in disgust to so-called Puritan
+plainness, even if it went to the extreme of Puritan ugliness.</p>
+
+<p>But in truth the eccentrics and extremes of Puritan dress were adopted
+by zealots; the best of that dress only was worn by the best men of the
+party. All Puritans were not like Philip Stubbes, the moralist; nor did all
+Royalists dress like Buckingham, the courtier.</p>
+
+<p>I have spoken of the influence of the word &quot;sad-color.&quot; I
+believe that our notion of the gloom of Puritan dress, of the dress
+certainly of the New England colonist, comes to us through it, for the term
+was certainly much used. A Puritan lover in Dorchester, Massachusetts, in
+1645, wrote to his lass that he had chosen for her a sad-colored gown.
+Winthrop wrote, &quot;Bring the coarsest woolen cloth, so it be not flocks,
+and of sad colours and some red;&quot; and he ordered a &quot;grave
+gown&quot; for his wife, &quot;not black, but sad-colour.&quot; But while
+sad-colored meant a quiet tint, it did not mean either a dull stone color
+or a dingy grayish brown--nor even a dark brown. We read distinctly in an
+English list of dyes of the year 1638 of these tints in these words,
+&quot;Sadd-colours the following; liver colour, De Boys, tawney, russet,
+purple, French green, ginger-lyne, deere colour, orange colour.&quot; Of
+these nine tints, five, namely, &quot;De Boys,&quot; tawny, russet,
+ginger-lyne, and deer color, were all browns. Other colors in this list of
+dyes were called &quot;light colours&quot; and &quot;graine colours.&quot;
+Light colors were named plainly as those which are now termed by shopmen
+&quot;evening shades&quot;; that is, pale blue, pink, lemon, sulphur,
+lavender, pale green, ecru, and cream color. Grain colors were shades of
+scarlet, and were worn as much as russet. When dress in sad colors ranged
+from purple and French green through the various tints of brown to orange,
+it was certainly not a <i>dull</i>-colored dress.</p>
+
+<p>Let us see precisely what were the colors of the apparel of the first
+colonists. Let us read the details of russet and scarlet. We find them in
+<i>The Record of the Governor and Company of the Massachusetts Bay in New
+England</i>, one of the incontrovertible sources which are a delight to
+every true historian. These records are in the handwriting of the first
+secretary, Washburn, and contain lists of the articles sent on the ships
+<i>Talbot, George, Lion's Whelp, Four Sisters</i>, and <i>Mayflower</i> for
+the use of the plantation at Naumkeag (Salem) and later at Boston. They
+give the amount of iron, coal, and bricks sent as ballast; the red lead,
+sail-cloth, and copper; and in 1629, at some month and day previous to 16th
+of March, give the order for the &quot;Apparell for 100 men.&quot; We learn
+that each colonist had this attire:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;4 Pair Shoes.<br>
+2 Pair Irish Stockings about 13d. a pair.<br>
+1 Pair knit Stockings about 2s. 4d. a pair.<br>
+1 Pair Norwich Garters about 5s. a dozen.<br>
+4 Shirts.<br>
+2 Suits of Doublet and Hose; of leather lined with oiled skin
+leather, the hose and doublet with hooks and eyes.<br>
+1 Suit of Northern Dussens or Hampshire Kerseys lined, the hose
+with skins, the doublet with linen of Guildford or Gedleyman
+serges, 2s. 10d. a yard, 4-1/2 to 5 yards a suit.<br>
+4 Bands.<br>
+2 Plain falling bands.<br>
+1 Standing band.<br>
+1 Waistcoat of green cotton bound about with red tape.<br>
+1 Leather Girdle.<br>
+2 Monmouth Cap, about 2s. apiece.<br>
+1 Black Hat lined at the brim with leather.<br>
+5 Red knit caps milled; about 5d. apiece.<br>
+2 Dozen Hooks and eyes and small hooks and eyes for mandillions.<br>
+1 Pair Calfs Leather gloves (and some odd pairs of knit and sheeps
+leather gloves).<br>
+A number of Ells Sheer Linen for Handkerchiefs.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>On March 16th was added to this list a mandillion lined with cotton at
+12d. a yard. Also breeches and waistcoats; a leather suit of doublet and
+breeches of oiled leather; a pair of breeches of leather, &quot;the drawers
+to serve to wear with both their other suits.&quot; There was also full,
+yes, generous for the day, provision of rugs, bedticks, bolsters, mats,
+blankets, and sheets for the berths, and table linen. There were fifty
+beds; evidently two men occupied each bed. Folk, even of wealth and
+refinement, were not at all sensitive as to their mode of sleeping or their
+bedfellows. The pages of Pepys's <i>Diary</i> give ample examples of this
+carelessness.</p>
+
+<p>Arms and armor were also furnished, as will be explained in a later
+chapter.</p>
+
+<p>A private letter written by an engineer, one Master Graves, the
+following year (1630), giving a list of &quot;such needful things as every
+planter ought to provide,&quot; affords a more curt and much less expensive
+list, though this has three full suits, two being of wool stuffs:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;1 Monmouth Cap.<br>
+3 Falling Bands.<br>
+3 Shirts.<br>
+1 Waistcoat.<br>
+1 Suit Canvass.<br>
+1 Suit Frieze.<br>
+1 Suit of Cloth.<br>
+3 Pair of Stockings.<br>
+4 Pair of Shoes.<br>
+Armour complete.<br>
+Sword &amp; Belt.&quot;<br>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>The underclothing in this outfit seems very scanty.</p>
+
+<p>I am sure that to some of the emigrants on these ships either outfit
+afforded an ampler wardrobe than they had known theretofore in England,
+though English folk of that day were well dressed. With a little
+consideration we can see that the Massachusetts Bay apparel was adequate
+for all occasions, but it was far different from a man's dress to-day. The
+colonist &quot;hadn't a coat to his back&quot;; nor had he a pair of
+trousers. Some had not even a pair of breeches. It was a time when great
+changes in dress were taking place. The ancient gown had just been
+abandoned for doublet and long hose, which were still in high esteem,
+especially among &quot;the elder sort,&quot; with garters or points for the
+knees. These doublets were both of leather and wool. And there were also
+doublets to be worn by younger men with breeches and stockings.</p>
+
+<p>When doublet and hose were worn, the latter were, of course, the long,
+Florentine hose, somewhat like our modern tights.</p>
+
+<p>The jerkin of other lists varied little from the doublet; both were
+often sleeveless, and the cassock in turn was different only in being
+longer; buff-coat and horseman's coat were slightly changed. The evolution
+of doublet, jerkin, and cassock into a man's coat is a long enough story
+for a special chapter, and one which took place just while America was
+being settled. Let me explain here that, while the general arrangement of
+this book is naturally chronological, we halt upon our progress at times,
+to review a certain aspect of dress, as, for instance, the riding-dress of
+women, or the dress of the Quakers, or to review the description of certain
+details of dress in a consecutive account. We thus run on ahead of our
+story sometimes; and other times, topics have to be resumed and reviewed
+near the close of the book.</p>
+
+<p>The breeches worn by the early planters were fulled at the waist and
+knee, after the Dutch fashion, somewhat like our modern knickerbockers or
+the English bag-breeches.</p>
+
+<p>The four pairs of shoes furnished to the colonists were the best. In
+another entry the specifications of their make are given thus:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Welt Neats Leather shoes crossed on the out-side with a
+seam. To be substantial good over-leather of the best, and two soles; the
+under sole of Neats-leather, the outer sole of tallowed
+backs.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>They were to be of ample size, some thirteen inches long; each reference
+to them insisted upon good quality.</p>
+
+<p>There is plentiful head-gear named in these inventories,--six caps and a
+hat for each man, at a time when Englishmen thought much and deeply upon
+what they wore to cover their heads, and at a time when hats were very
+costly. I give due honor to those hats in an entire chapter, as I do to the
+ruffs and bands supplied in such adequate and dignified numbers. There was
+an unusually liberal supply of shirts, and there were drawers which are
+believed to have been draw-strings for the breeches.</p>
+
+<p>In <i>New England's First Fruits</i> we read instructions to bring over
+&quot;good Irish stockings, which if they are good are much more
+serviceable than knit ones.&quot; There appears to have been much variety
+in shape as well as in material. John Usher, writing in 1675 to England,
+says, &quot;your sherrups stockings and your turn down stocking are not
+salable here.&quot; Nevertheless, stirrup stockings and socks were
+advertised in the Boston News Letter as late as January 30, 1731.
+Stirrup-hose are described in 1658 as being very wide at the top--two yards
+wide--and edged with points or eyelet holes by which they were made fast to
+the girdle or bag-breeches. Sometimes they were allowed to bag down over
+the garter. They are said to have been worn on horseback to protect the
+other garments.</p>
+
+<p>Stockings at that time were made of cotton and woollen cloth more than
+they were knitted. Calico stockings are found in inventories, and often
+stockings as well as hose with calico linings. In the clothing of William
+Wright of Plymouth, at his death in 1633, were</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;2 Pair Old Knit Stockins.<br>
+2 Pair Old Yrish Stockins.<br>
+2 Pair Cloth Stockins.<br>
+2 Pair Wadmoll Stockins.<br>
+4 Pair Linnen Stockins,&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>which would indicate that Goodman Wright had stockings for all weathers,
+or, as said a list of that day, &quot;of all denominations.&quot; He had
+also two pair of boot-hose and two pair of boot-briches; evidently he was a
+seafaring man. I must note that he had more ample underclothing than many
+&quot;plain citizens,&quot; having cotton drawers and linen drawers and
+dimity waistcoats.</p>
+
+<p>That petty details of propriety and dignity of dress were not forgotten;
+that the articles serving to such dignity were furnished to the colonists,
+and the use of these articles was expected of them, is shown by the supply
+of such additions to dress as Norwich garters. Garters had been a
+decorative and elegant ornament to dress, as may be seen by glancing at the
+portraits of Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir Robert Orchard, and the <i>English
+Antick</i>, in this book. And they might well have been decried as
+offensive luxuries unmeet for any Puritan and unnecessary for any colonist;
+yet here they are. The settlers in one of the closely following ships had
+points for the knee as well as garters.</p>
+
+<p>From all this cheerful and ample dress, this might well be a Cavalier
+emigration; in truth, the apparel supplied as an outfit to the Virginia
+planters (who are generally supposed to be far more given over to rich
+dress) is not as full nor as costly as this apparel of Massachusetts Bay.
+In this as in every comparison I make, I find little to indicate any
+difference between Puritan and Cavalier in quantity of garments, in
+quality, or cost--or, indeed, in form. The differences in England were much
+exaggerated in print; in America they often existed wholly in men's notions
+of what a Puritan must be.</p>
+
+<p>At first the English Puritan reformers made marked alterations in dress;
+and there were also distinct changes in the soldiers of Cromwell's army,
+but in neither case did rigid reforms prove permanent, nor were they ever
+as great or as sweeping as the changes which came to the Cavalier dress.
+Many of the extremes preached in Elizabeth's day had disappeared before New
+England was settled; they had been abandoned as unwise or unnecessary;
+others had been adopted by Cavaliers, so that equalized all differences. I
+find it difficult to pick out with accuracy Puritan or Cavalier in any
+picture of a large gathering. Let us glance at the Puritan Roundhead, at
+Cromwell himself. His picture is given <a
+href="#Cromwell_dissolving_Parliament.">here</a>, cut from a famous print
+of his day, which represents Cromwell dissolving the Long Parliament. He
+and his three friends, all Puritan leaders, are dressed in clothes as
+distinctly Cavalier as the attire of the king himself. The graceful hats
+with sweeping ostrich feathers are precisely like the Cavalier hats still
+preserved in England; like one in the South Kensington Museum. Cromwell's
+wide boots and his short cape all have a Cavalier aspect.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Cromwell_dissolving_Parliament."></a>
+<img src="images\052.png" alt="Cromwell dissolving Parliament.">
+<H4>Cromwell dissolving Parliament.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>While Cromwell was steadily working for power, the fashion of plain
+attire was being more talked about than at any other time; so he appeared
+in studiously simple dress--the plainest apparel, indeed, of any man
+prominent in affairs in English history. This is a description of his
+appearance at a time before his name was in all Englishmen's mouths. It was
+written by Sir Philip Warwick:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The first time I ever took notice of him (Cromwell) was
+in the beginning of Parliament, November, 1640. I came into the house one
+morning, well-clad, and perceived a gentleman speaking whom I knew not,
+very ordinary apparelled, for it was a plain cloth suit which seemed to
+have been made by an ill country tailor. His linen was plain and not very
+clean, and I remember a speck or two of blood upon his band which was not
+much larger than his collar; his hat was without a hat-band; his stature
+was of good size; his sword stuck close to his side.&quot;<br>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>Lowell has written of what he terms verbal magic; the power of certain
+words and sentences, apparently simple, and without any recognizable
+quality, which will, nevertheless, fix themselves in our memory, or will
+picture a scene to us which we can never forget. This description of
+Cromwell has this magic. There is no apparent reason why these plain,
+commonplace words should fix in my mind this simple, rough-hewn form; yet I
+never can think of Cromwell otherwise than in this attire, and whatever
+portrait I see of him, I instinctively look for the spot of blood on his
+band. I know of his rich dress after he was in power; of that splendid
+purple velvet suit in which he lay majestic in death; but they never seem
+to me to be Cromwell--he wears forever an ill-cut, clumsy cloth suit, a
+close sword, and rumpled linen.</p>
+
+<p>The noble portraits of Cromwell by the miniaturist, Samuel Cooper,
+especially the one which is at Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, are held
+to be the truest likenesses. They show a narrow band, but the hair curls
+softly on the shoulders. The wonderful portrait of the Puritan General
+Ireton, in the National Portrait Gallery, has beautiful, long hair, and a
+velvet suit much slashed, and with many loops and buttons at the slashes.
+He wears mustache and imperial. We expect we may find that friend of
+Puritanism, Lucius Carey, Lord Falkland, in rich dress; and we find him in
+the richest of dress; namely, a doublet made, as to its body and large full
+sleeves, wholly of bands an inch or two wide of embroidery and gold lace,
+opening like long slashes from throat to waist, and from arm-scye to wrist
+over fine white lawn, and with extra slashes at various spots, with the
+full white lawn of his &quot;habit-shirt&quot; pulled out in pretty puffs.
+His hair is long and curling. General Waller of Cromwell's army, here
+shown, is the very figure of a Cavalier, as handsome a face, with as
+flowing hair and careful mustache, as the Duke of Buckingham, or Mr.
+Endymion Porter,--that courtier of courtiers,--gentleman of the bed-chamber
+to Charles I. Cornet Joyce, the sturdy personal custodian of the king in
+captivity, came the closest to being a Roundhead; but even his hair covers
+his ear and hangs over his collar--it would be deemed over-long to-day.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Sir_William_Waller."></a>
+<img src="images\054.png" alt="Sir William Waller.">
+<H4>Sir William Waller.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Here is Lord Fairfax in plain buff coat slightly laced and slashed with
+white satin. Fanshawe dressed--so his wife tells us--in &quot;phillamot
+brocade with 9 Laces every one as broad as my hand, a little gold and
+silver lace between and both of curious workmanship.&quot; And his suit was
+gay with scarlet knots of ribbon; and his legs were cased in white silk
+hose over scarlet ones; and he wore black shoes with scarlet shoe strings
+and scarlet roses and garters; and his gloves were trimmed with scarlet
+ribbon--a fine &quot;gaybeseen&quot;--to use Chaucer's words.</p>
+
+<p>Surprising to all must be the portrait of that Puritan figurehead, the
+Earl of Leicester; for he wears an affected double-peaked beard, a great
+ruff, feathered hat, richly jewelled hatband and collar, and an ear-ring.
+Shown <a href="#ROBERT_DEVEREUX">here</a> is the dress he wore when
+masquerading in Holland as general during the Netherland insurrection
+against Philip II.</p>
+
+<p>It is strange to find even writers of intelligence calling Winthrop and
+Endicott Roundheads. A recent magazine article calls Myles Standish a
+Roundhead captain. That term was not invented till a score of years after
+Myles Standish landed at Plymouth. A political song printed in 1641 is
+entitled <i>The Character of a Roundhead</i>. It begins:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;What creature's this with his short hairs<br>
+His little band and huge long ears<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; That this new faith hath founded?<br>
+<br>
+&quot;The Puritans were never such,<br>
+The saints themselves had ne'er as much.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Oh, such a knave's a Roundhead.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="The_right_Honourable_Ferdinand--Lord_Fairfax."></a>
+<img src="images\056.png" alt="Lord Fairfax.">
+<H4>The right Honourable Ferdinand--Lord Fairfax.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson was the wife of a Puritan gentleman, who was
+colonel in Cromwell's army, and one of the regicide judges. She wrote a
+history of her husband's life, which is one of the most valuable sources of
+information of the period wherein he lived, the day when Cromwell and
+Hampden acted, when Laud and Strafford suffered. In this history she tells
+explicitly of the early use of the word Roundhead:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The name of Roundhead coming so opportunely, I shall make
+a little digression to show how it came up: When Puritanism grew a faction,
+the Zealots distinguished themselves by several affectations of habit,
+looks and words, which had it been a real forsaking of vanity would have
+been most commendable. Among other affected habits, few of the Puritans,
+what degree soever they were, wore their hair long enough to cover their
+ears; and the ministers and many others cut it close around their heads
+with so many little peaks--as was something ridiculous to behold. From this
+custom that name of Roundhead became the scornful term given to the whole
+Parliament Party, whose army indeed marched out as if they had only been
+sent out till their hair was grown. Two or three years later any stranger
+that had seen them would have inquired the meaning of that
+name.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>It is a pleasure to point out Colonel Hutchinson as a Puritan, though
+there was little in his dress to indicate the significance of such a name
+for him, and certainly he was not a Roundhead, with his light brown hair
+&quot;softer than the finest silk and curling in great loose rings at the
+ends--a very fine, thick-set head of hair.&quot; He loved dancing, fencing,
+shooting, and hawking; he was a charming musician; he had judgment in
+painting, sculpture, architecture, and the &quot;liberal arts.&quot; He
+delighted in books and in gardening and in all rarities; in fact, he seemed
+to care for everything that was &quot;lovely and of good report.&quot;
+&quot;He was wonderfully neat, cleanly and genteel in his habit, and had a
+very good fancy in it, but he left off very early the wearing of anything
+very costly, yet in his plainest habit appeared very much a
+gentleman.&quot; Such dress was the <i>best</i> of Puritan dress; just as
+he was the best type of a Puritan. He was cheerful, witty, happy, eager,
+earnest, vivacious--a bit quick in temper, but kind, generous, and good. He
+was, in truth, what is best of all,--a noble, consistent, Christian
+gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>Those who have not acquired from accurate modern portrayal and
+representation their whole notion of the dress of the early colonists have,
+I find, a figure in their mind's eye something like that of Matthew Hopkins
+the witch-finder. Hogarth's illustrations of Hudibras give similar
+Puritans. Others have figures, dull and plainly dressed, from the pictures
+in some book of saints and martyrs of the Puritan church, such as were
+found in many an old New England home. <i>My</i> Puritan is reproduced <a
+href="#Alderman_Abell_and_Richard_Kilvert">here</a>. I have found in later
+years that this Alderman Abel of my old print was quite a character in
+English history; having been given with Cousin Kilvert the monopoly of the
+sale of wines at retail, one of those vastly lucrative privileges which
+brought forth the bitterest denunciations from Sir John Eliot, who regarded
+them as an infamous imposition upon the English people. The site of Abel's
+house had once belonged to Cardinal Wolsey; and it was popularly believed
+that Abel found and used treasure of the cardinal which had been hidden in
+his cellar. He was called the &quot;Main Projector and Patentee for the
+Raising of Wines.&quot; Unfortunately for my theory that Abel was a typical
+Puritan, he was under the protection of King Charles I; and Cromwell's
+Parliament put an end to his monopoly in 1641, and his dress was simply
+that of any dull, uninteresting, commonplace, and common Englishman of his
+day.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Alderman_Abell_and_Richard_Kilvert"></a>
+<img src="images\059.png" alt="Alderman Abell and Richard Kilvert">
+<H4>Mr. Alderman Abell and Richard Kilvert, the two maine
+Projectors for Wine, 1644.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Another New England man who is constantly called a Roundhead is Cotton
+Mather; with equal inconsequence and inaccuracy he is often referred to,
+and often stigmatized, as &quot;the typical Puritan colonist,&quot; a
+narrow, bigoted Gospeller. I have open before me an editorial from a
+reputable newspaper which speaks of Cotton Mather dressed in dingy,
+skimped, sad-colored garments &quot;shivering in the icy air of Plymouth as
+he uncovered his close-clipped Round-head when he landed on the Rock from
+the <i>Mayflower</i>.&quot; He was in fact born in America; he was not a
+Plymouth man, and did not die till more than a century after the landing of
+the <i>Mayflower</i>, and, of course, he was not a Roundhead. Another
+drawing of Cotton Mather, in a respectable magazine, depicts him with
+clipped hair, emaciated, clad in clumsy garments, mean and haggard in
+countenance, raising a bundle of rods over a cowering Indian child. Now,
+Cotton Mather was distinctly handsome, as may be seen from his picture <a
+href="#Reverend_Cotton_Mather.">here</a>, which displays plainly the full,
+sensual features of the Cotton family, shown in John Cotton's portrait. And
+the Roundhead is in an elegant, richly curled periwig, such as was
+fashionable a hundred years after the <i>Mayflower</i>. And though he had
+the tormenting Puritan conscience he was not wholly a Puritan, for the
+world, the flesh, and the devil were strong in him. He was much more gentle
+and tender than men of that day were in general; especially with all
+children, white and Indian, and was most conscientious in his relations
+both to Indians and negroes. And in those days of universal whippings by
+English and American schoolmasters and parents, he spoke in no uncertain
+voice his horror and disapproval of the rod for children, and never
+countenanced or permitted any whippings.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Reverend_John_Cotton."></a>
+<img src="images\060.png" alt="Reverend John Cotton.">
+<H4>Reverend John Cotton.</H4>
+</center>
+<center>
+<a name="Reverend_Cotton_Mather."></a>
+<img src="images\061.png" alt="Reverend Cotton Mather.">
+<H4>Reverend Cotton Mather.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>There was certainly great diversity in dress among those who called
+themselves Puritans. Some amusing stories are told of that strange,
+restless, brilliant creature, the major-general of Cromwell's
+army,--Harrison. When the first-accredited ambassador sent by any great
+nation to the new republic came to London, there was naturally some stir as
+to the wisdom of certain details of demeanor and dress. It was a ticklish
+time. The new Commonwealth must command due honor, and the day before the
+audience a group of Parliament gentlemen, among them Colonel Hutchinson and
+one who was afterwards the Earl of Warwick, were seated together when
+Harrison came in and spoke of the coming audience, and admonished them
+all--and Hutchinson in particular, &quot;who was in a habit pretty rich but
+grave and none other than he usually wore&quot;--that, now nations sent to
+them, they must &quot;shine in wisdom and piety, not in gold and silver and
+worldly bravery which did not become saints.&quot; And he asked them not to
+appear before the ambassador in &quot;gorgeous habits.&quot; So the
+colonel--though he was not &quot;convinced of any misbecoming bravery in a
+suit of sad-coloured cloth trimmed with gold and with silver points and
+buttons&quot;--still conformed to his comrade's opinion, and appeared as
+did all the other gentlemen in solemn, handsome black. When who should come
+in, &quot;all in red and gold-a,&quot;--in scarlet coat and cloak laden
+with gold and silver, &quot;the coat so covered with clinquant one could
+scarcely discern the ground,&quot; and in this gorgeous and glittering
+habit seat himself alone just under the speaker's chair and receive the
+specially low respects and salutes of all in the ambassador's train,--who
+should thus blazon and brazon and bourgeon forth but Harrison! I presume,
+though Hutchinson was a Puritan and a saint, he was a bit chagrined at his
+black suit of garments, and a bit angered at being thus decoyed; and it
+touched Madam Hutchinson deeply.</p>
+
+<p>But Hutchinson had his turn to wear gay clothes. A great funeral was to
+be given to Ireton, who was his distant kinsman; yet Cromwell, from
+jealousy, sent no bidding or mourning suit to him. A general invitation and
+notice was given to the whole assembly, and on the hour of the funeral,
+within the great, gloomy state-chamber, hung in funereal black, and filled
+with men in trappings of woe, covered with great black cloaks with long,
+weeping hatbands drooping to the ground, in strode Hutchinson; this time he
+was in scarlet and cliquante, &quot;such as he usually wore,&quot;--so
+wrote his wife,--astonishing the eyes of all, especially the diplomats and
+ambassadors who were present, who probably deemed him of so great station
+as to be exempt from wearing black. The master of ceremonies timidly
+regretted to him, in hesitating words, that no mourning had been sent--it
+had been in some way overlooked; the General could not, thus unsuitably
+dressed, follow the coffin in the funeral procession--it would not look
+well; the master of ceremonies would be rebuked--all which proved he did
+not know Hutchinson, for follow he could, and would, and did, in this rich
+dress. And he walked through the streets and stood in the Abbey, with his
+scarlet cloak flaunting and fluttering like a gay tropical bird in the
+midst of a slowly flying, sagging flock of depressed black crows,--you have
+seen their dragging, heavy flight,--and was looked upon with admiration and
+love by the people as a splendid and soldierly figure.</p>
+
+<p>We must not forget that the years which saw the settlement of Salem and
+Boston were not under the riot of dress countenanced by James. Charles I
+was then on the throne; and the rich and beautiful dress worn by that king
+had already taken shape.</p>
+
+<p>There has been an endeavor made to attribute this dress to the stimulus,
+to the influence, of Puritan feeling. Possibly some of the reaction against
+the absurdities of Elizabeth and James may have helped in the establishment
+of this costume; but I think the excellent taste of Charles and especially
+of his queen, Henrietta Maria, who succeeded in making women's dress wholly
+beautiful, may be thanked largely for it. And we may be grateful to the
+painter Van Dyck; for he had not only great taste as to dress, and genius
+in presenting his taste to the public, but he had a singular appreciation
+of the pictorial quality of dress and a power of making dress appropriate
+to the wearer. And he fully understood its value in indicating
+character.</p>
+
+<p>Since Van Dyck formed and painted these fine and elegant modes, they are
+known by his name,--it is the Van Dyck costume. We have ample exposition of
+it, for his portraits are many. It is told that he painted forty portraits
+of the king and thirty of the queen, and many of the royal children. There
+are nine portraits by his hand of the Earl of Strafford, the king's friend.
+He painted the Earl of Arundel seven times. Venetia, Lady Digby, had four
+portraits in one year. He painted all persons of fashion, many of
+distinction and dignity, and some with no special reason for consideration
+or portrayal.</p>
+
+<p>The Van Dyck dress is a gallant dress, one fitted for a court, not for
+everyday life, nor for a strenuous life, though men of such aims wore it.
+The absurdity of Elizabeth's day is lacking; the richness remains. It is a
+dress distinctly expressive of dignity. The doublet is of some rich, silken
+stuff, usually satin or velvet. The sleeves are loose and graceful; at one
+time they were slashed liberally to show the fine, full, linen
+shirt-sleeve. Here are a number of slashed sleeves, from portraits of the
+day, painted by Van Dyck. The cuffs of the doublet are often turned back
+deeply to show embroidered shirt cuffs or lace ruffles, or even linen
+undersleeves. The collar of the doublet was wholly covered with a band or
+collar of rich lace and lawn, or all lace; this usually with the pointed
+edges now termed Vandykes. Band strings of ribbon or &quot;snake-bone&quot;
+were worn. These often had jewelled tassels. Rich tassels of pearl were the
+favorite. A short cloak was thrown gracefully on one shoulder or hung at
+the back. Knee-breeches edged with points or fringes or ribbons met the
+tops of wide, high boots of Spanish leather, which often also turned over
+with ruffles of leather or lace. Within-doors silken hose and shoes with
+rich shoe-roses of lace or ribbon were worn. A great hat, broad-leafed,
+often of Flemish beaver, had a splendid feather and jewelled hatband. A
+rich sword-belt and gauntleted and fringed gloves were added. A peaked
+beard with small upturned mustache formed a triangle, with the mouth in the
+centre, as in the portrait of General Waller. The hair curled loosely in
+the neck, and was rarely, I think, powdered.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Slashed_Sleeves,_temp._Charles I."></a>
+<img src="images\066.png" alt="Slashed Sleeves">
+<H4>Slashed Sleeves, <i>temp</i>. Charles I.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Other great painters besides Van Dyck were fortunately in England at the
+time this dress was worn, and the king was a patron and appreciator of art.
+Hence they were encouraged in their work; and every form and detail of this
+beautiful costume is fully depicted for us.</p> <br>
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS</h3>
+<blockquote> <i>&quot;Nowe my deare hearte let me parlye a little with thee
+about trifles, for when I am present with thee, my speeche is preiudiced
+by thy presence which drawes my mind from itselfe; I suppose now, upon thy
+unkles cominge there wilbe advisinge &amp; counsellinge of all hands; and
+amongst many I know there wilbe some, that wilbe provokinge thee, in these
+indifferent things, as matter of apparell, fashions and other
+circumstances; I hould it a rule of Christian wisdome in all things to
+follow the soberest examples; I confesse that there be some ornaments
+which for Virgins and Knights Daughters &amp;c may be comly and
+tollerrable which yet in soe great a change as thine is, may well admitt a
+change allso; I will medle with noe particulars neither doe I thinke it
+shall be needfull; thine own wisdome and godliness shall teach thee
+sufficiently what to doe in such things. I knowe thou wilt not grieve me
+for trifles. Let me intreate thee (my sweet Love) to take all in good
+part.&quot;</i><br><br>
+
+--JOHN WINTHROP TO MARGARET TYNDALE, 1616.<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>DRESS OF THE NEW ENGLAND MOTHERS</h3>
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\initiali.png" align=left
+alt="I"> &nbsp; have expressed a doubt that the dress of Cavalier and
+Puritan varied as much as has been popularly believed; I feel sure that the
+dress of Puritan women did not differ from the attire of women of quiet
+life who remained in the Church of England; nor did it vary materially
+either in form or quality from the attire of the sensible followers of
+court life. It simply did not extend to the extreme of the mode in gay
+color, extravagance, or grotesqueness. In the first severity of revolt over
+the dissoluteness of English life which had shown so plainly in the
+extravagance and absurdity of English court dress, many persons of deep
+thought (especially men), both of the Church of England and of the Puritan
+faith, expressed their feeling by a change in their dress. Doubtless also
+in some the extremity of feeling extended to fanaticism. It is always thus
+in reforms; the slow start becomes suddenly a violent rush which needs to
+be retarded and moderated, and it always is moderated. I have referred to
+one exhibition of bigotry in regard to dress which is found in the annals
+of Puritanism; it is detailed in the censure and attempt at restraint of
+the dress of Madam Johnson, the wife of the Rev. Francis Johnson, the
+pastor of the exiles to Holland.</p>
+
+<p>There is a tradition that Parson Johnson was one of the Marprelate
+brotherhood, who certainly deserved the imprisonment they received, were it
+only for their ill-spelling and ill-use of their native tongue. The
+Marprelate pamphlet before me as I write had an author who could not even
+spell the titles of the prelates it assailed; but called them
+&quot;parsones, fyckers and currats,&quot; the latter two names being
+intended for vicars and curates. The story of Madam Johnson's revolt, and
+her triumph, is preserved to us in such real and earnest language, and was
+such a vital thing to the actors in the little play, that it seems almost
+irreverent to regard it as a farce, yet none to-day could read of it
+without a sense of absurdity, and we may as well laugh frankly and freely
+at the episode.</p>
+
+<p>When the protagonist of this Puritan comedy entered the stage, she was a
+widow--Tomison or Thomasine Boyes, a &quot;warm&quot; widow, as the saying
+of the day ran, that is, warm with a comfortable legacy of ready money. She
+was a young widow, and she was handsome. At any rate, it was brought up
+against her when events came to a climax; it was testified in the church
+examination or trial that &quot;men called her a bouncing girl,&quot; as if
+she could help that! Husband Boyes had been a haberdasher, and I fancy she
+got both her finery and her love of finery in his shop. And it was told
+with all the petty terms of scandal-mongering that might be heard in a
+small shop in a small English town to-day; it was told very gravely that
+the &quot;clarkes in the shop&quot; compared her for her pride in apparel
+to the wife of the Bishop of London, and it was affirmed that she stood
+&quot;gazing, braving, and vaunting in shop doores.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now this special complaint against the Widow Boyes, that she stood
+braving and vaunting in shop doors, was not a far-fetched attack brought as
+a novelty of tantalizing annoyance; it touches in her what was one of the
+light carriages of the day, which were so detestable to sober and
+thoughtful folk, an odious custom specified by Stubbes in his <i>Anatomy of
+Abuses</i>. He writes thus of London women, the wives of merchants:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Othersome spend the greater part of the daie in sittyng
+at the doore, to shewe their braveries, to make knowen their beauties, to
+behold the passers by; to view the coast, to see fashions, and to acquaint
+themselves of the bravest fellows--for, if not for these causes, I know no
+other causes why they should sitt at their doores--as many doe from Morning
+till Noon, from Noon till Night.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Other writers give other reasons for this &quot;vaunting.&quot; We learn
+that &quot;merchants' wives had seats built a purpose&quot; to sit in, in
+order to lure customers. Marston in <i>The Dutch Courtesan</i> says:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;His wife's a proper woman--that she is! She has been as
+proper a woman as any in the Chepe. She paints now, and yet she keeps her
+husband's old customers to him still. In troth, a fine-fac'd wife in a
+wainscot-carved seat, is a worthy ornament to any tradesman's shop. And an
+attractive one I'le warrant.&quot;<br> </blockquote>
+
+<p>This handsome, buxom, bouncing widow fell in love with Pastor Johnson,
+and he with her, while he was &quot;a prisoner in the Clink,&quot; he
+having been thrown therein by the Archbishop of Canterbury for his
+persistent preaching of Puritanism. Many of his friends &quot;thought this
+not a good match&quot; for him at any time; and all deemed it ill advised
+for a man in prison to pledge himself in matrimony to any one. And soon
+zealous and meddlesome Brother George Johnson took a hand in advice and
+counsel, with as high a hand as if Francis had been a child instead of a
+man of thirty-two, and a man of experience as well, and likewise older than
+George.</p>
+
+<p>George at first opened warily, saying in his letters that &quot;he was
+very loth to contrary his brother;&quot; still Brother Francis must be
+sensible that this widow was noted for her pride and vanity, her light and
+garish dress, and that it would give great offence to all Puritans if he
+married her, and &quot;it (the vanity and extravagance, etc.) should not be
+refrained.&quot; There was then some apparent concession and yielding on
+the widow's part, for George for a time &quot;sett down satysfyed&quot;;
+when suddenly, to his &quot;great grief&quot; and discomfiture, he found
+that his brother had been &quot;inveigled and overcarried,&quot; and the
+sly twain had been married secretly in prison.</p>
+
+<p>It must be remembered that this was in the last years of Elizabeth's
+reign, in 1596, when the laws were rigid in attempts at limitation of
+dress, as I shall note later in this chapter. But there were certain
+privileges of large estate, even if the owner were of mean birth; and Madam
+Johnson certainly had money enough to warrant her costly apparel, and in
+ready cash also, from Husband Boyes. But in the first good temper and
+general good will of the honeymoon she &quot;obeyed&quot;; she promised to
+dress as became her husband's condition, which would naturally mean much
+simpler attire. He was soon in very bad case for having married without
+permission of the archbishop, and was still more closely confined
+within-walls; but even while he lingered in prison, Brother George saw with
+anguish that the bride's short obedience had ended. She appeared in
+&quot;more garish and proud apparell&quot; than he had ever before seen
+upon the widow,--naturally enough for a bride,--even the bride of a
+bridegroom in prison; but he &quot;dealt with her that she would
+refrain&quot;--poor, simple man! She dallied on, tantalizing him and daring
+him, and she was very &quot;bold in inviting proof,&quot; but never
+quitting her bridal finery for one moment; so George read to her with
+emphasis, as a final and unconquerable weapon, that favorite wail of all
+men who would check or reprove an extravagant woman, namely, Isaiah iii, 16
+<i>et seq</i>., the chapter called by Mercy Warren</p>
+
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;... An antiquated page<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;That taught us the threatenings of an Hebrew sage<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Gainst wimples, mantles, curls and crisping pins.&quot;<br>
+
+<p>I wonder how many Puritan parsons have preached fatuously upon those
+verses! how many defiant women have had them read to them--and how many
+meek ones! I knew a deacon's wife in Worcester, some years ago, who asked
+for a new pair of India-rubber overshoes, and in pious response her frugal
+partner slapped open the great Bible at this favorite third chapter of the
+lamenting and threatening prophet, and roared out to his poor little wife,
+sitting meekly before him in calico gown and checked apron, the lesson of
+the haughty daughters of Zion walking with stretched-forth necks and
+tinkling feet; of their chains and bracelets and mufflers; their bonnets
+and rings and rich jewels; their mantles and wimples and crisping-pins;
+their fair hoods and veils--oh, how she must have longed for an Oriental
+husband!</p>
+
+<p>Petulant with his new sister-in-law's successful evasions of his
+readings, his letters, and his advice, his instructions, his pleadings, his
+commands, and &quot;full of sauce and zeal&quot; like Elnathan, George
+Johnson, in emulation of the prophet Isaiah, made a list of the offences of
+this London &quot;daughter of Zion,&quot; wrote them out, and presented
+them to the congregation. She wore &quot;3, 4, or even 5 gold rings at one
+time&quot; Then likewise &quot;her Busks and ye Whalebones at her Brest
+were soe manifest that many of ye Saints were greeved thereby.&quot; She
+was asked to &quot;pull off her Excessive Deal of Lace.&quot; And she was
+fairly implored to &quot;exchange ye Schowish Hatt for a sober Taffety or
+Felt.&quot; She was ordered severely &quot;to discontinue Whalebones,&quot;
+and to &quot;quit ye great starcht Ruffs, ye Muske, and ye Rings.&quot; And
+not to wear her bodice tied to her petticoat &quot;as men do their doublets
+to their hose contrary to I Thessalonians, V, 22.&quot; And a certain
+stomacher or neckerchief he plainly called &quot;abominable and
+loathsome.&quot; A &quot;schowish Velvet Hood,&quot; such as only &quot;the
+richest, finest and proudest sort should use,&quot; was likewise beyond
+endurance, almost beyond forgiveness, and other &quot;gawrish gear gave him
+grave greevance.&quot;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Mrs._William_Clark."></a>
+<img src="images\075.png" alt="Mrs. William Clark.">
+<H4>Mrs. William Clark.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>But here the young husband interfered, as it was high time he should;
+and he called his brother &quot;fantasticall, fond, ignorant,
+anabaptisticall and such like,&quot; though what the poor Anabaptists had
+to do with such dress quarrels I know not. George's cautious reference in
+his letter to the third verse of the third chapter of Jeremiah made the
+parson call it &quot;the Abhominablest Letter ever was written.&quot;
+George, a bit frightened, answered pacificatorily that he noted of late
+that &quot;the excessive lace upon the sleeve of her dress had a Cover
+drawn upon it;&quot; that the stomacher was not &quot;so gawrish, so low,
+and so spitz-fashioned as it was wont to be&quot;; nor was her hat &quot;so
+topishly set,&quot;--and he expressed pious gladness at the happy change,
+&quot;hoping more would follow,&quot;--and for a time all did seem subdued.
+But soon another meddlesome young man became &quot;greeved&quot; (did ever
+any one hear of such a set of silly, grieving fellows?); and seeing
+&quot;how heavily the young gentleman took it,&quot; stupid George must
+interfere again, to be met this time very boldly by the bouncing girl
+herself, who, he writes sadly, answered him in a tone &quot;very peert and
+coppet.&quot; &quot;Coppet&quot; is a delightful old word which all our
+dictionaries have missed; it signifies impudent, saucy, or, to be precise,
+&quot;sassy,&quot; which we all know has a shade more of meaning.
+&quot;Peert and coppet&quot; is a delightful characterization. George
+refused to give the sad young complainer's name, who must have been well
+ashamed of himself by this time, and was then reproached with being a
+&quot;forestaller,&quot; a &quot;picker,&quot; and a &quot;quarrelous
+meddler&quot;--and with truth.</p>
+
+<p>During the action of this farce, all had gone from London into exile in
+Holland. Then came the sudden trip to Newfoundland and the disastrous and
+speedy return to Holland again. And through the misfortunes and the exiles,
+the company drew more closely together, and gentle words prevailed; George
+was &quot;sorie if he had overcarried himself&quot;; Madam &quot;was sure
+if it were to do now, she would not so wear it.&quot; Still, she did not
+offer her martinet of a brother-in-law a room to lodge in in her house,
+though she had many rooms unused, and he needed shelter, whereat he
+whimpered much; and soon he was charging her again &quot;with Muske as a
+sin&quot; (musk was at that time in the very height of fashion in France)
+and cavilling at her unbearable &quot;topish hat.&quot; Then came long
+argument and sparring for months over &quot;topishness,&quot; which seems
+to have been deemed a most offensive term. They told its nature and being;
+they brought in Greek derivatives, and the pastor produced a syllogism upon
+the word. And they declared that the hat in itself was not topish, but only
+became so when she wore it, she being the wife of a preacher; and they
+disputed over velvet and vanity; they bickered over topishness and
+lightness; they wrangled about lawn coives and busks in a way that was sad
+to read. The pastor argued soundly, logically, that both coives and busks
+might be lawfully used; whereat one of his flock, Christopher Dickens, rose
+up promptly in dire fright and dread of future extravagance among the
+women-saints in the line of topish hats and coives and busks, and he
+&quot;begged them not to speak so, and <i>so loud</i>, lest it should bring
+<i>many inconveniences among their wives</i>.&quot; Finally the topish
+head-gear was demanded in court, which the parson declared was
+&quot;offensive&quot;; and so they bickered on till a most unseemly hour,
+till <i>ten o'clock at night</i>, as &quot;was proved by the watchman and
+rattleman coming about.&quot; Naturally they wished to go to bed at an
+early hour, for religious services began at nine; one of the complaints
+against the topish bride was that she was a &quot;slug-a-bed,&quot;
+flippantly refused to rise and have her house ordered and ready for the
+nine o'clock public service. The meetings were then held in the parson's
+house, and held every day; which may have been one reason why the
+settlement grew poorer. It matters little what was said, or how it ended,
+since it did not disrupt and disband the Holland Pilgrims. For eleven years
+this stupid wrangling lasted; and it seemed imminent that the settlement
+would finish with a separation, and a return of many to England. Slight
+events have great power--this topish hat of a vain and pretty, a peert and
+coppet young Puritan bride came near to hindering and changing the
+colonization of America.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Lady_Mary_Armine."></a>
+<img src="images\078.png" alt="Lady Mary Armine.">
+<H4>Lady Mary Armine.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>I have related this episode at some length because its recounting makes
+us enter into the spirit of the first Separatist settlers. It shows us too
+that dress conquered zeal; it could not be &quot;forborne&quot; by
+entreaty, by reproof, by discipline, by threats, by example. An influence,
+or perhaps I should term it an echo, of this long quarrel is seen plainly
+by the thoughtful mind in the sumptuary laws of the New World. Some of the
+articles of dress so dreaded, so discussed in Holland, still threatened the
+peace of Puritanical husbands in New England; they still dreaded many
+inconveniences. In 1634, the general court of Massachusetts issued this
+edict:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;That no person, man or woman, shall hereafter make or buy
+any Apparell, either Woolen, or Silk, or Linen, with any Lace on it,
+Silver, Gold, or Thread, under the penalty of forfeiture of said clothes.
+Also that no person either man or woman, shall make or buy any Slashed
+Clothes, other than one Slash in each Sleeve and another in the Back. Also
+all Cut-works, embroideries, or Needlework Caps, Bands or Rails, are
+forbidden hereafter to be made and worn under the aforesaid Penalty; also
+all gold or silver Girdles Hat bands, Belts, Ruffs, Beaver hats are
+prohibited to be bought and worn hereafter.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Fines were stated, also the amount of estate which released the
+dress-wearer from restriction. Liberty was given to all to wear out the
+apparel which they had on hand except &quot;immoderate great sleeves,
+slashed apparell, immoderate great rails, and long wings&quot;--these being
+beyond endurance.</p>
+
+<p>In 1639 &quot;immoderate great breeches, knots of riban, broad shoulder
+bands and rayles, silk roses, double ruffles and capes&quot; were forbidden
+to folk of low estate. Soon the court expressed its &quot;utter detestation
+and dislike,&quot; that men and women of &quot;mean condition, education
+and calling&quot; should take upon themselves &quot;the garb of
+gentlemen&quot; by wearing gold and silver lace, buttons and points at the
+knee, or &quot;walk in great boots,&quot; or women of the same low rank to
+wear silk or tiffany hoods or scarfs. There were likewise orders that no
+short sleeves should be worn &quot;whereby the nakedness of the arms may be
+discovered&quot;; women's sleeves were not to be more than half an ell
+wide; long hair and immodest laying out of the hair and wearing borders of
+hair were abhorrent. Poor folk must not appear with &quot;naked breasts and
+arms; or as it were pinioned with superstitious ribbons on hair and
+apparell.&quot; Tailors who made garments for servants or children, richer
+than the garments of the parents or masters of these juniors, were to be
+fined. Similar laws were passed in Connecticut and Virginia. I know of no
+one being &quot;psented&quot; under these laws in Virginia, but in
+Connecticut and Massachusetts both men and women were fined. In 1676, in
+Northampton, thirty-six young women at one time were brought up for
+overdress chiefly in hoods; and an amusing entry in the court record is
+that one of them, Hannah Lyman, appeared in the very hood for which she was
+fined; and was thereupon censured for &quot;wearing silk in a fflonting
+manner, in an offensive way, not only before but when she stood Psented.
+Not only in Ordinary but Extraordinary times.&quot; These girls were all
+fined; but six years later, when a stern magistrate attempted a similar
+persecution, the indictments were quashed.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="The_Tub-preacher."></a>
+<img src="images\081.png" alt="The Tub-preacher.">
+<H4>The Tub-preacher.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>It is not unusual to find the careless observer or the superficial
+reader--and writer--commenting upon the sumptuary laws of the New World as
+if they were extraordinary and peculiar. There appeared in a recent
+American magazine a long rehearsal of the unheard-of presumption of Puritan
+magistrates in their prohibition of certain articles of dress. This writer
+was evidently wholly ignorant of the existence of similar laws in England,
+and even of like laws in Virginia, but railed against Winthrop and Endicott
+as monsters of Puritanical arrogance and impudence.</p>
+
+<p>In truth, however, such laws had existed not only in France and England,
+but since the days of the old Locrian legislation, when it was ordered that
+no woman should go attended with more than one maid in the street
+&quot;unless she were drunk.&quot; Ancient Rome and Sparta were surrounded
+by dress restrictions which were broken just as were similar ones in more
+modern times. The Roman could wear a robe but of a single color; he could
+wear in embroideries not more than half an ounce of gold; and, with what
+seems churlishness he was forbidden to ride in a carriage. At that time,
+just as in later days, dress was made to emphasize class distinction, and
+the clergy joined with the magistrates in denouncing extravagant dress in
+both men and women. The chronicles of the monks are ever chiding men for
+their peaked shoes, deep sleeves and curled locks like women, and
+Savonarola outdid them all in severity. The English kings and queens,
+jealous of the rich dress of their opulent subjects, multiplied
+restrictions, and some very curious anecdotes exist of the calm assumption
+by both Elizabeth and Mary to their own wardrobe of the rich finery of some
+lady at the court who displayed some new and too becoming fancy.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Old_Venice_Point_Lace."></a>
+<img src="images\083.png" alt="Old Venice Point Lace.">
+<H4>Old Venice Point Lace.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Adam Smith declared it &quot;an act of highest impertinence and
+presumption for kings and rulers to pretend to watch over the earnings and
+expenditure of private persons,&quot; nevertheless this public interference
+lingered long, especially under monarchies.</p>
+
+<p>These sumptuary laws of New England followed in spirit and letter
+similar laws in England. Winthrop had seen the many apprentices who ran
+through London streets, dressed under laws as full of details of dress as
+is a modern journal of the modes. For instance, the apprentice's
+head-covering must be a small, flat, round cap, called often a bonnet--a
+hat like a pie-dish. The facing of the hat could not exceed three inches in
+breadth in the head; nor could the hat with band and facing cost over five
+shillings. His band or collar could have no lace edge; it must be of linen
+not over five shillings an ell in price; and could have no other work or
+ornament save &quot;a plain hem and one stitch&quot;--which was a
+hemstitch. If he wore a ruff, it must not be over three inches wide before
+it was gathered and set into the &quot;stock.&quot; The collar of his
+doublet could have neither &quot;point, well-bone or plait,&quot; but must
+be made &quot;close and comely.&quot; The stuff of his doublet and breeches
+could not cost over two shillings and sixpence a yard. It could be either
+cloth, kersey, fustian, sackcloth, canvas, or &quot;English stuff&quot;; or
+leather could be used. The breeches were generally of the shape known as
+&quot;round slops.&quot; His stockings could be knit or of cloth; but his
+shoes could have no polonia heels. His hair was to be cut close, with no
+&quot;tuft or lock.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Queen Elizabeth stood no nonsense in these things; finding that London
+'prentices had adopted a certain white stitching for their collars, she put
+a stop to this mild finery by ordering the first transgressor to be whipped
+publicly in the hall of his company. These same laws, tinkered and altered
+to suit occasions, appear for many years in English records, for years
+after New England's sumptuary laws were silenced.</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding Hannah Lyman and the thirty-six vain Northampton girls,
+we do not on the whole hear great complaint of extravagance in dress or
+deportment. At any rate none were called bouncing girls. The portraits of
+men or women certainly show no restraint as to richness in dress. Their
+sumptuary laws were of less use to their day than to ours, for they do
+reveal to us what articles of dress our forbears wore.</p>
+
+<p>While the Massachusetts magistrates were fussing a little over woman's
+dress, the parsons, as a whole, were remarkably silent. Of course two or
+three of them could not refrain from announcing a text from Isaiah iii, 16
+<i>et seq</i>., and enlarging upon the well-worn wimples and nose jewels,
+and bells on their feet, which were as much out of fashion in Massachusetts
+then as now. It is such a well-rounded, ringing, colorful arraignment of
+woman's follies you couldn't expect a parson to give it up. Every evil
+predicted of the prophet was laid at the door of these demure Puritan
+dames,--fire and war, and caterpillars, and even baldness, which last was
+really unjust. Solomon Stoddard preached on the &quot;Intolerable Pride in
+the Plantations in Clothes and Hair,&quot; that his parishioners &quot;drew
+iniquity with a cord of vanity and sin with a cart-rope.&quot; The apostle
+Paul also furnished ample texts for the Puritan preacher.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Rebecca_Rawson."></a>
+<img src="images\086.png" alt="Rebecca Rawson.">
+<H4>Rebecca Rawson.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In the eleventh chapter of Corinthians wise Paul delivered some
+sentences of exhortation, of reproof, of warning to Corinthian women which
+I presume he understood and perhaps Corinthian dames did, but which have
+been a dire puzzle since to parsons and male members of their
+congregations. (I cannot think that women ever bothered much about his
+words.) For instance, Archbishop Latimer, in one of the cheerful, slangy
+rallies to his hearers which he called sermons, quotes Paul's sentence that
+a woman ought to have a power on her head, and construes positively that a
+power is a French hood. This is certainly a somewhat surprising notion, but
+I presume he knew. However, Roger Williams deemed a power a veil; and being
+somewhat dictatorial in his words, albeit the tenderest of creatures in his
+heart, he bade Salem women come to meeting in a veil, telling them they
+should come like Sarah of old, wearing this veil as a token of submission
+to their husbands. The text saith this exactly, &quot;A woman ought to have
+power on her head because of the angels,&quot; which seems to me one of
+those convenient sayings of Paul and others which can be twisted to many,
+to any meanings, even to Latimer's French hood. Old John Cotton, of course,
+found ample Scripture to prove Salem women should not wear veils, and so
+here in this New World, as in the Holland sojourn, the head-covering of the
+mothers rent in twain the meetings of the fathers, while the women wore
+veils or no veils, French hoods or beaver hats, in despite of Paul's
+opinions and their husbands' constructions of his opinions.</p>
+
+<p>An excellent description of the Puritan women of a dissenting
+congregation is in <i>Hudibras Redivivus;</i> it reads:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The good old dames among the rest<br>
+Were all most primitively drest<br>
+In stiffen-bodyed russet gowns<br>
+And on their heads old steeple crowns<br>
+With pristine pinners next their faces<br>
+Edged round with ancient scallop-laces,<br>
+Such as, my antiquary says,<br>
+Were worn in old Queen Bess's days,<br>
+In ruffs; and fifty other ways<br>
+Their wrinkled necks were covered o'er<br>
+With whisks of lawn by granmarms wore.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>The &quot;old steeple crowns&quot; over &quot;pristine pinners&quot;
+were not peculiar to the Puritans. There was a time, in the first years of
+the seventeenth century, when many Englishwomen wore steeple-crowned hats
+with costly hatbands. We find them in pictures of women of the court, as
+well as upon the heads of Puritans. I have a dozen prints and portraits of
+Englishwomen in rich dress with these hats. The Quaker Tub-preacher, shown
+<a href="#The_Tub-preacher.">here</a>, wears one. Perhaps the best known
+example to Americans may be seen in the portrait of Pocahontas <a
+href="#Pocahontas.">here</a>.</p>
+
+<p>Authentic portraits of American women who came in the <i>Mayflower</i>
+or in the first ships to the Massachusetts Bay settlement, there are none
+to my knowledge. Some exist which are doubtless of that day, but cannot be
+certified. One preserved in Connecticut in the family of Governor Eaton
+shows a brown old canvas like a Rembrandt. The subject is believed to be of
+the Yale family, and the chief and most distinct feature of dress is the
+ruff.</p>
+
+<p>It was a time of change both of men's and women's neckwear. A few older
+women clung to the ruffs of their youth; younger women wore bands,
+falling-bands, falls, rebatoes, falling-whisks and whisks, the &quot;fifty
+other ways&quot; which could be counted everywhere. Carlyle says:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;There are various traceable small threads of relation,
+interesting reciprocities and mutabilities connecting the poor young
+Infant, New England, with its old Puritan mother and her affairs, which
+ought to be disentangled, to be made conspicuous by the Infant herself now
+she has grown big.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>These traceable threads of relation are ever of romantic interest to me,
+and even when I refer to the dress of English folk I linger with pleasure
+with those whose lives were connected even by the smallest thread with the
+Infant, New England. One such thread of connection was in the life of Lady
+Mary Armine; so I choose to give her picture <a
+href="#Lady_Mary_Armine.">here</a>, to illustrate the dress, if not of a
+New Englander, yet of one of New England's closest friends. She was a
+noble, high-minded English gentlewoman, who gave &quot;even to her dying
+day&quot; to the conversion of poor tawny heathen of New England. A
+churchwoman by open profession, she was a Puritan in her sympathies, as
+were many of England's best hearts and souls who never left the Church of
+England. She gave in one gift &pound;500 to families of ministers who had
+been driven from their pulpits in England. The Nipmuck schools at Natick
+and Hassamanesit (near Grafton) were founded under her patronage. The life
+of this &quot;Truly Honourable, Very Aged and Singularly Pious Lady who
+dyed 1675,&quot; was written as a &quot;pattern to Ladies.&quot; Her long
+prosy epitaph, after enumerating the virtues of many of the name of Mary,
+concludes thus:--</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<blockquote>&quot;The Army of such Ladies so Divine<br>
+This Lady said 'I'll follow, they Ar-mine.'<br>
+Lady Elect! in whom there did combine<br>
+So many Maries, might well say All Ar-mine.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>A pun was a Puritan's one jocularity; and he would pun even in an
+epitaph.</p>
+
+<p>It will be seen that Lady Mary Armine wears the straight collar or band,
+and the black French hood which was the forerunner, then the rival, and at
+last the survivor of the &quot;sugar-loaf&quot; beaver or felt hat,--a hood
+with a history, which will have a chapter for the telling thereof. Lady
+Mary wears a peaked widow's cap under her hood; this also is a detail of
+much interest.</p>
+
+<p>Another portrait of this date is of Mrs. Clark (see <a
+href="#Mrs._William_Clark.">here</a>). This has two singular details;
+namely, a thumb-ring, which was frequently owned but infrequently painted,
+and a singular bracelet, which is accurately described in the verse of
+Herrick, written at that date:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I saw about her spotless wrist<br>
+Of blackest silk a curious twist<br>
+Which circumvolving gently there<br>
+Enthralled her arm as prisoner.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>I may say in passing that I have seen in portraits knots of narrow
+ribbon on the wrists, both of men and women, and I am sure they had some
+mourning significance, as did the knot of black on the left arm of the
+queen of King James of England.</p>
+
+<p>We have in the portrait shown as a frontispiece an excellent presentment
+of the dress of the Puritan woman of refinement; the dress worn by the
+wives of Winthrop, Endicott, Leverett, Dudley, Saltonstall, and other
+gentlemen of Salem and Boston and Plymouth. We have also the dress worn by
+her little child about a year old. This portrait is of Madam Padishal. She
+was a Plymouth woman; and we know from the inventories of estates that
+there were not so many richly dressed women in Plymouth as in Boston and
+Salem. This dress of Madam Padishal's is certainly much richer than the
+ordinary attire of Plymouth dames of that generation.</p>
+
+<p>This portrait has been preserved in Plymouth in the family of Judge
+Thomas, from whom it descended to the present owner. Madam Padishal was
+young and handsome when this portrait was painted. Her black velvet gown is
+shaped just like the gown of Madam Rawson (shown <a
+href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a>), of Madam Stoddard (shown <a
+href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>), both Boston women; and of the
+English ladies of her times. It is much richer than that of Lady Mary
+Armine or Mrs. Clark.</p>
+
+<p>The gown of Madam Padishal is varied pleasingly from that of Lady Mary
+Armine, in that the body is low-necked, and the lace whisk is worn over the
+bare neck. The pearl necklace and ear-rings likewise show a more frivolous
+spirit than that of the English dame.</p>
+
+<p>Another Plymouth portrait of very rich dress, that of Elizabeth Paddy,
+Mrs. John Wensley, faces this page. The dress in this is a golden-brown
+brocade under-petticoat and satin overdress. The stiff, busked stays are
+equal to Queen Elizabeth's. Revers at the edge of overdress and on the
+virago sleeves are now of flame color, a Spanish pink, but were originally
+scarlet, I am sure. The narrow stomacher is a beaded galloon with bright
+spangles and bugles. On the hair there shows above the ears a curious
+ornament which resembles a band of this galloon. There are traces of a
+similar ornament in Madam Rawson's portrait (<a
+href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a>); and Madam Stoddard's (<a
+href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>) has some ornament over the ears.
+This may have been a modification of a contemporary Dutch head-jewel. The
+pattern of the lace of Elizabeth Paddy's whisk is most distinct; it was a
+good costly Flemish parchment lace like Mrs. Padishal's. She carries a fan,
+and wears rings, a pearl necklace, and ear-rings. I may say here that I
+have never seen other jewels than these,--a few rings, and necklace and
+ear-rings of pearl. Other necklaces seem never to have been worn.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Elizabeth_Paddy_Wensley."></a>
+<img src="images\093.png" alt="Elizabeth Paddy Wensley.">
+<H4>Elizabeth Paddy Wensley.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>We cannot always trust that all the jewels seen in these portraits were
+real, or that the sitter owned as many as represented. A bill is in
+existence where a painter charged ten shillings extra for bestowing a gold
+and pearl necklace upon his complaisant subject. In this case, however, the
+extra charge was to pay for the gold paint or gold-leaf used for gilding
+the painted necklace. In the amusing letters of Lady Sussex to Lord Verney
+are many relating to her portrait by Van Dyck. She consented to the
+painting very unwillingly, saying, &quot;it is money ill bestowed.&quot;
+She writes:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Put Sr Vandyke in remembrance to do my pictuer well. I
+have seen sables with the clasp of them set with diamonds--if those I am
+pictured in were done so, I think it would look very well in the pictuer.
+If Sr Vandyke thinks it would do well I pray desier him to do all the
+clawes so. I do not mene the end of the tales but only the end of the other
+peces, they call them clawes I think.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>This gives a glimpse of a richness of detail in dress even beyond our
+own day, and one which I commend to some New York dame of vast wealth, to
+have the claws of her sables set with diamonds. She writes later in two
+letters of some weeks' difference in date:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I am glad you have prefalede with Sr Vandyke to make my
+pictuer leaner, for truly it was too fat. If he made it farer it will bee
+to my credit. I am glad you have made Sr Vandyke mind my dress.&quot; ...
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I am glad you have got home my pictuer, but I doubt he
+has made it lener or farer, but too rich in jewels, I am sure; but 'tis no
+great matter for another age to thinke mee richer than I was. I wish it
+could be mended in the face for sure 'tis very ugly. The pictuer is very
+ill-favourede, makes me quite out of love with myselfe, the face is so bigg
+and so fat it pleases mee not at all. It looks like one of the Windes
+puffinge--(but truly I think it is lyke the
+original).&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>I am struck by a likeness in workmanship in the portraits of these two
+Plymouth dames, and the portrait of Madam Stoddard (<a
+href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>), and succeeding illustrations of
+the Gibbes children. I do wish I knew whether these were painted by Tom
+Child--a painter-stainer and limner referred to by Judge Samuel Sewall in
+his Diary, who was living in Boston at that time. Perhaps we may find
+something, some day, to tell us this. I feel sure these were all painted in
+America, especially the portraits of the Gibbes children. A great many
+coats-of-arms were made in Boston at this time, and I expect the
+painter-stainer made them. All painting then was called coloring. A man
+would say in 1700, &quot;Archer has set us a fine example of expense; he
+has colored his house, and has even laid one room in oils; he had the
+painter-stainer from Boston to do it--the man who limns faces, and does
+pieces, and tricks coats.&quot; This was absolutely correct English, but we
+would hardly know that the man meant: &quot;Archer has been extravagant
+enough; he has painted his house, and even painted the woodwork of one
+room. He had the artist from Boston to do the work--the painter of faces
+and full-lengths, who makes coats-of-arms.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It is hard to associate the very melancholy countenance shown <a
+href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a> with a tradition of youth and beauty. Had
+the portrait been painted after a romance of sorrow came to this young
+maid, Rebecca Rawson, we could understand her expression; but it was
+painted when she was young and beautiful, so beautiful that she caught the
+eye and the wandering affections of a wandering gentleman, who announced
+himself as the son of one nobleman and kinsman of many others, and
+persuaded this daughter of Secretary Edward Rawson to marry him, which she
+did in the presence of forty witnesses. This young married pair then went
+to London, where the husband deserted Rebecca, who found to her horror that
+she was not his wife, as he had at least one English wife living. Alone and
+proud, Rebecca Rawson supported herself and her child by painting on glass;
+and when at last she set out to return to her childhood's home, her life
+was lost at sea by shipwreck.</p>
+
+<p>The portrait of another Boston woman of distinction, Mrs. Simeon
+Stoddard, is given <a href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>. I will
+attempt to explain who Mrs. Simeon Stoddard was. She was Mr. Stoddard's
+third widow and the third widow also of Peter Sergeant, builder of the
+Province House. Mr. Sergeant's second wife had been married twice before
+she married him, and Simeon Stoddard's father had four wives, all having
+been widows when he married them. Lastly, our Mrs. Simeon Stoddard,
+triumphing over death and this gallimaufry of Boston widows, took a fourth
+husband, the richest merchant in town, Samuel Shrimpton. Having had in all
+four husbands of wealth, and with them and their accumulation of widows
+there must have been as a widow's mite an immense increment and inheritance
+of clothing (for clothing we know was a valued bequest), it is natural that
+we find her very richly dressed and with a distinctly haughty look upon her
+handsome face as becomes a conqueror both of men and widows.</p>
+
+<p>The straight, lace collar, such as is worn by Madam Padishal and shown
+in all portraits of this date, is, I believe, a whisk.</p>
+
+<p>The whisk was a very interesting and to us a puzzling article of attire,
+through the lack of precise description. It was at first called the
+falling-whisk, and is believed to have been simply the handsome,
+lace-edged, stiff, standing collar turned down over the shoulders. This
+collar had been both worn with the ruff and worn after it, and had been
+called a fall. Quicherat tells that the &quot;whisk&quot; came into
+universal use in 1644, when very low-necked gowns were worn, and that it
+was simply a kerchief or fichu to cover the neck.</p>
+
+<p>We have a few side-lights to help us, as to the shape of the whisk, in
+the form of advertisements of lost whisks. In one case (1662) it is &quot;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 a strap
+hanging down before.&quot; And in 1664 &quot;A Tiffany Whisk with a great
+Lace down and a little one up, of large Flowers, and open work; with a Roul
+for the Head and Peak.&quot; The roll and peak were part of a cap.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard."></a>
+<img src="images\098.png" alt="Mrs. Simeon Stoddard.">
+<H4>Mrs. Simeon Stoddard.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>These portraits show whisks in slightly varying forms. We have the
+&quot;broad Lace lying down&quot; in the handsome band at the shoulder; the
+&quot;little lace standing up&quot; was a narrow lace edging the whisk at
+the throat or just above the broad lace. Sometimes the whisk was wholly of
+mull or lawn. The whisk was at first wholly a part of woman's attire, then
+for a time it was worn, in modified form, by men.</p>
+
+<p>Madam Pepys had a white whisk in 1660 and then a &quot;noble lace
+whisk.&quot; The same year she bought hers in London, Governor Berkeley
+paid half a pound for a tiffany whisk in Virginia. Many American women,
+probably all well-dressed women, had them. They are also seen on French
+portraits of the day. One of Madam de Maintenon shows precisely the same
+whisk as this of Madam Padishal's, tied in front with tiny knots of
+ribbon.</p>
+
+<p>It will be noted that Madam Padishal has black lace frills about the
+upper portion of the sleeve, at the arm-scye. English portraits previous to
+the year 1660 seldom show black lace, and portraits are not many of the
+succeeding forty years which have black lace, so in this American portrait
+this detail is unusual. The wearing of black lace came into a short
+popularity in the year 1660, through compliment to the Spanish court upon
+the marriage of the young French king, Louis XIV, with the Infanta. The
+English court followed promptly. Pepys gloried in &quot;our Mistress
+Stewart in black and white lace.&quot; It interests me to see how quickly
+American women had the very latest court fashions and wore them even in
+uncourtlike America; such distinct novelties as black lace. Contemporary
+descriptions of dress are silent as to it by the year 1700, and it
+disappears from portraits until a century later, when we have pretty black
+lace collars, capes and fichus, as may be seen on the portraits of Mrs.
+Sedgwick, Mrs. Waldo, and others later in this book. These first black
+laces of 1660 are Bayeux laces, which are precisely like our Chantilly
+laces of to-day. This ancient piece of black lace has been carefully
+preserved in an old New York family. A portrait of the year 1690 has a
+black lace frill like the Maltese laces of to-day, with the same guipure
+pattern. But such laces were not made in Malta until after 1833. So it must
+have been a guipure lace of the kind known in England as parchment lace.
+This was made in the environs of Paris, but was seldom black, so this was a
+rare bit. It was sometimes made of gold and silver thread. Parchment lace
+was a favorite lace of Mary, Queen of Scots, and through her good offices
+was peddled in England by French lace-makers. The black moir&eacute; hoods
+of Italian women sometimes had a narrow edge of black lace, and a little
+was brought to England on French hoods, but as a whole black lace was
+seldom seen or known.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Ancient_Black_Lace."></a>
+<img src="images\100.png" alt="Ancient Black Lace.">
+<H4>Ancient Black Lace.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>An evidence of the widespread extent of fashions even in that day, a
+proof that English and French women and American women (when American women
+there were other than the native squaws) all dressed alike, is found in
+comparing portraits. An interesting one from the James Jackson Jarvis
+Collection is now in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. It is of an unknown
+woman and by an unknown artist, and is simply labelled &quot;Of the School
+of Susteman.&quot; But this unknown Frenchwoman has a dress as precisely
+like Madam Padishal's and Madam Stoddard's as are Doucet's models of to-day
+like each other. All have the whisk of rich straight-edged lace, and the
+tiny knots of velvet ribbon. All have the sleeve knots, but the French
+portrait is gay in narrow red and buff ribbon.</p>
+
+<p>Doubtless many have formed their notion of Puritan dress from the
+imaginary pictures of several popular modern artists. It can plainly be
+seen by any one who examines the portraits in this book that they are
+little like these modern representations. The single figures called
+&quot;Priscilla&quot; and &quot;Rose Standish&quot; are well known. The
+former is the better in costume, and could the close dark cloth or velvet
+hood with turned-back band, and plain linen edge displayed beneath, be
+exchanged for the horseshoe shaped French hood which was then and many
+years later the universal head-wear, the verisimilitude would be increased.
+This hood is shown on the portraits of Madam Rawson, Madam Stoddard,
+Mistress Paddy, and others in this book. Rose Standish's cap is a very
+pretty one, much prettier than the French hood, but I do not find it like
+any cap in English portraits of that day. Nor have I seen her picturesque
+sash. I do not deny the existence in portraits of 1620 of this cap and
+sash; I simply say that I have never found them myself in the hundreds of
+English portraits, effigies, etc., that I have examined.</p>
+
+<p>It will be noted that the women in the modern pictures all wear aprons.
+I think this is correct as they are drawn in their everyday dress, but it
+will be noted that none of these portraits display an apron; nor was an
+apron part of any rich dress in the seventeenth century. The reign of the
+apron had been in the sixteenth century, and it came in again with Anne. Of
+course every woman in Massachusetts used aprons.</p>
+
+<p>Early inventories of the effects of emigrant dames contain many an item
+of those housewifely garments. Jane Humphreys, of Dorchester,
+Massachusetts, had in her good wardrobe, in 1668, &quot;2 Blew aprons, A
+White Holland Apron with a Small Lace at the bottom. A White Holland Apron
+with two breathes in it. My best white apron. My greene apron.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the pictures, <i>The Return of the Mayflower</i> and <I>The Pilgrim
+Exiles</I>, the masculine dress therein displayed is very close to that of
+the real men of the times. The great power of these pictures is, after all,
+not in the dress, but in the expression of the faces. The artist has
+portrayed the very spirit of pure religious feeling, self-denial,
+home-longing, and sadness of exile which we know must have been imprinted
+on those faces.</p>
+
+<p>The lack of likeness in the women's dress is more through difference of
+figure and carriage and an indescribable cut of the garments than in
+detail, except in one adjunct, the sleeve, which is wholly unlike the
+seventeenth-century sleeve in these portraits. I have ever deemed the
+sleeve an important part both of a man's coat and a woman's gown. The
+tailor in the old play, <I>The Maid of the Mill</I>, says, &quot;O Sleeve!
+O Sleeve! I'll study all night, madam, to magnify your sleeves!&quot; By
+its inelegant shape a garment may be ruined. By its grace it accents the
+beauty of other portions of the apparel. In these pictures of Puritan
+attire, it has proved able to make or mar the likeness to the real dress.
+It is now a component part of both outer and inner garment. It was formerly
+extraneous.</p>
+
+<p>In the reign of Henry VIII, the sleeve was generally a separate article
+of dress and the most gorgeous and richly ornamented portion of the dress.
+Outer and inner sleeves were worn by both men and women, for their doublets
+were sleeveless. Elizabeth gradually banished the outer hanging sleeve,
+though she retained the detached sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>Sleeves had grown gravely offensive to Puritans; the slashing was
+excessive. A Massachusetts statute of 1634 specifies that &quot;No man or
+woman shall make or buy any slashed clothes other than one slash in each
+sleeve and another in the back. Men and women shall have liberty to wear
+out such apparell as they now are provided of except the immoderate great
+sleeves and slashed apparel.&quot;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Virago-sleeve."></a>
+<img src="images\104.png" alt="Virago-sleeve.">
+<H4>Virago-sleeve.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Size and slashes were both held to be a waste of good cloth.
+&quot;Immoderate great sleeves&quot; could never be the simple coat sleeve
+with cuff in which our modern artists are given to depicting Virginian and
+New England dames. Doubtless the general shape of the dress was simple
+enough, but the sleeve was the only part which was not close and plain and
+unornamented. I have found no close coat sleeves with cuffs upon any old
+American portraits. I recall none on English portraits. You may see them,
+though rarely, in England under hanging sleeves upon figures which have
+proved valuable conservators of fashion, albeit sombre of design and rigid
+of form, namely, effigies in stone or metal upon old tombs; these not after
+the year 1620, though these are really a small &quot;leg-of-mutton&quot;
+sleeve being gathered into the arm-scye. A beautiful brass in a church on
+the Isle of Wight is dated 1615. This has long, hanging sleeves edged with
+leaflike points of cut-work; cuffs of similar work turn back from the
+wrists of the undersleeves. A <I>Satyr</I> by Fitzgeffrey, published the
+same year, complains that the wrists of women and men are clogged with
+bush-points, ribbons, or rebato-twists. &quot;Double cufts&quot; is an
+entry in a Plymouth inventory--which explains itself. In the hundreds of
+inventories I have investigated I have never seen half a dozen entries of
+cuffs. The two or three I have found have been specified as &quot;lace
+cuffs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, wrote with a vivid pen; one of his
+own followers said with severity, &quot;He paints high.&quot; Some of his
+denunciations of the dress of his day afford a very good notion of the
+peculiarities of contemporary costume; though he may be read with this
+caution in mind. He writes deploringly of women's sleeves (in the year
+1654); it will be noted that he refers to double cuffs:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The women having their cuffs double under and above, like
+a butcher with his white sleeves, their ribands tied about their hands, and
+three or four gold laces about their clothes.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Ninon_de_l'Enclos."></a>
+<img src="images\106.png" alt="Ninon de l'Enclos.">
+<H4>Ninon de l'Enclos.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>There were three generations of English heralds named Holme, all
+genealogists, and all artists; they have added much to our knowledge of old
+English dress. Randle Holme, the Chester herald, lived in the reign of
+Charles II, and increased a collection of manuscript begun by his
+grandfather and now forming part of the Harleian Collection in the British
+Museum. He wrote also the <i>Academy of Armoury</i>, published in 1688, and
+made a vast number of drawings for it, as well as for his other works. His
+note-books of drawings are preserved. In one of them he gives drawings of
+the sleeve which is found on every seventeenth-century portrait of American
+women which I have ever seen. He calls this a virago-sleeve. It was worn in
+Queen Elizabeth's day, but was a French fashion. It is gathered very full
+in the shoulder and again at the wrist, or at the forearm. At intervals
+between, it is drawn in by gathering-strings of narrow ribbons, or ferret,
+which are tied in a pretty knot or rose on the upper part of the sleeve.
+One from a French portrait is given <a href="#Virago-sleeve.">here</a>.
+Madam Ninon de l'Enclos also wears one. This gathering may be at the elbow,
+forming thus two puffs, or there may be several such drawing-strings. I
+have seen a virago-sleeve with five puffs. It is a fine decorative sleeve,
+not always shapely, perhaps, but affording in the pretty knots of ribbon
+some relief to the severity of the rest of the dress.</p>
+
+<p>Stubbes wrote, &quot;Some have sleeves cut up the arm, drawn out with
+sundry colours, pointed with silk ribbands, and very gallantly tied with
+love knotts.&quot; It was at first a convention of fashion, and it lingered
+long in some modification, that wherever there was a slash there was a knot
+of ribbon or a bunch of tags or aglets. This in its origin was really that
+the slash might be tied together. Ribbon knots were much worn; the early
+days of the great court of Louis XIV saw an infinite use of ribbons for men
+and women. When, in the closing years of the century, rows of these knots
+were placed on either side of the stiff busk with bars of ribbon forming a
+stomacher, they were called <i>echelles</i>, ladders. <i>The Ladies'
+Dictionary</i> (1694) says they were &quot;much in request.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This virago-sleeve was worn by women of all ages and by children, both
+boys and girls. A virago-sleeve is worn by Rebecca Rawson (<a
+href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a>), and by Mrs. Simeon Stoddard (<a
+href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>), by Madam Padishal and by her
+little girl, and by the Gibbes child shown later in the book.</p>
+
+<p>A carved figure of Anne Stotevill (1631) is in Westminster Abbey. Her
+dress is a rich gown slightly open in front at the foot. It has ornamental
+hooks, or frogs, with a button at each end--these are in groups of three,
+from chin to toe. Four groups of three frogs each, on both sides, make
+twenty-four, thus giving forty-eight buttons. A stiff ruff is at the neck,
+and similar smaller ones at the wrist. She wears a French hood with a loose
+scarf over it. She has a very graceful virago-sleeve with handsome knots of
+ribbon.</p>
+
+<p>It is certain that men's sleeves and women's sleeves kept ever close
+company. Neither followed the other; they walked abreast. If a woman's
+sleeves were broad and scalloped, so was the man's. If the man had a tight
+and narrow sleeve, so did his wife. When women had virago-sleeves, so did
+men. Even in the nineteenth century, at the first coming of leg-of-mutton
+sleeves in 1830 <i>et seq</i>., dandies' sleeves were gathered full at the
+armhole. In the second reign of these vast sleeves a few years ago, man had
+emancipated himself from the reign of woman's fashions, and his sleeves
+remained severely plain.</p>
+
+<p>Small invoices of fashionable clothing were constantly being sent across
+seas. There were sent to and from England and other countries
+&quot;ventures,&quot; which were either small lots of goods sent on
+speculation to be sold in the New World, or a small sum given by a private
+individual as a &quot;venture,&quot; with instructions to purchase abroad
+anything of interest or value that was salable. To take charge of these
+petty commercial transactions, there existed an officer, now obsolete,
+known as a supercargo. It is told that one Providence ship went out with
+the ventures of one hundred and fifty neighbors on board--that is, one
+hundred and fifty persons had some money or property at stake on the trip.
+Three hundred ventures were placed with another supercargo. Sometimes women
+sent sage from their gardens, or ginseng if they could get it. A bunch of
+sage paid in China for a porcelain tea-set. Along the coast, women ventured
+food-supplies,--cheese, eggs, butter, dried apples, pickles, even hard
+gingerbread; another sent a barrel of cider vinegar. Clothes in small lots
+were constantly being bought and sold on a venture. From London, in
+November, 1667, Walter Banesely sent as a venture to William Pitkin in
+Hartford these articles of clothing with their prices:--</p>
+
+<table>
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound; </td><td align="right">s.</td></tr>
+<tr><td> &quot;1 Paire Pinck Colour'd mens hose</td><td>1</td><td align="right">6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>10 Paire Mens Silke Hose, 17s per pair</td><td>8</td><td align="right">10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>10 Paire Womens Silke Hose, 16s per pair</td><td>1</td><td align="right"> 12</td></tr>
+<tr><td> 10 Paire Womens Green Hose</td><td>6</td><td align="right"> 10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pinck Colour'd Stomacher made of Knotts</td><td>3</td><td align="right">10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pinck Colour'd Wastcote</td></tr>
+<tr><td>A Black Sute of Padisuay. Hatt,</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Hatt band, Shoo knots &amp; trunk.</td></tr>
+<tr><td> The wastcote and stomacher are a</td></tr>
+<tr><td> Venture of my wife's; the Silke Stockens mine own.&quot;</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>There remains another means of information of the dress of Puritan women
+in what was the nearest approach to a collection of fashion-plates which
+the times afforded.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Lady_Catharina_Howard."></a>
+<img src="images\110.png" alt="Lady Catharina Howard.">
+<H4>Lady Catharina Howard.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In the year 1640 a collection of twenty-six pictures of Englishwomen was
+issued by one Wenceslas Hollar, an engraver and drawing-master, with this
+title, <i>Ornatus Muliebris Anglicanus. The severall Habits of
+Englishwomen, from the Nobilitie to the Country Woman As they are in these
+Times.</i> These bear the same relation to portraits showing what was
+really worn, as do fashion-plates to photographs. They give us the shapes
+of gowns, bonnets, etc., yet are not precisely the real thing. The value of
+this special set is found in three points: First, the drawings confirm the
+testimony of Lely, Van Dyck, and other artists; they prove how slightly Van
+Dyck idealized the costume of his sitters. Second, they give
+representations of folk in the lower walks of life; such folk were not of
+course depicted in portraits. Third, the drawings are full length, which
+the portraits are not. Four of these drawings are reduced and shown <a
+href="#Costumes_of_Englishwomen_of_the_Seventeenth_Century.">here</a>. I
+give <a href="#A_Puritan_Dame.">here</a> the one entitled <i>The Puritan
+Woman</i>, though it is one of the most disappointing in the whole
+collection. It is such a negative presentation; so little marked detail or
+even associated evidence is gained from it. I had a baffled thought after
+examining it that I knew less of Puritan dress than without it. I see that
+they gather up their gowns for walking after a mode known in later years as
+washerwoman style. And by that very gathering up we lose what the drawing
+might have told us; namely, how the gowns were shaped in the back; how
+attached to the waist or bodice; and how the bodice was shaped at the
+waist, whether it had a straight belt, whether it was pointed, whether
+slashed in tabs or laps like a samare. The sleeve, too, is concealed, and
+the kerchief hides everything else. We know these kerchiefs were worn among
+the &quot;fifty other ways,&quot; for some portraits have them; but the
+whisk was far more common. Lady Catharina Howard, aged eleven in the year
+1646, was drawn by Hollar in a kerchief.</p>
+
+<p>There had been some change in the names of women's attire in twenty
+years, since 1600, when the catalogue of the Queen's wardrobe was made.
+Exclusive of the Coronation, Garter, Parliament, and mourning robes, it ran
+thus:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Robes.<br>
+Petticoats.<br>
+French gowns. <br>
+Cloaks.<br>
+Round gowns. <br>
+Safeguards.<br>
+Loose gowns.<br>
+Jupes.<br>
+Kirtles.<br>
+Doublets.<br>
+Foreparts.<br>
+Lap mantles.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>In her New Year's gifts were also, &quot;strayt-bodyed gowns,
+trayn-gowns, waist-robes, night rayls, shoulder cloaks, inner sleeves,
+round kirtles.&quot; She also had nightgowns and jackets, and underwear,
+hose, and various forms of foot-gear. Many of these garments never came to
+America. Some came under new names. Many quickly disappeared from
+wardrobes. I never read in early American inventories of robes, either
+French robes or plain robes. Round gowns, loose gowns, petticoats, cloaks,
+safeguards, lap mantles, sleeves, nightgowns, nightrails, and night-jackets
+continued in wear.</p>
+
+<p>I have never found the word forepart in this distinctive signification
+nor the word kirtle; though our modern writers of historical novels are
+most liberal of kirtles to their heroines. It is a pretty, quaint name, and
+ought to have lingered with us; but &quot;what a deformed thief this
+Fashion is&quot;--it will not leave with us garment or name that we like
+simply because it pleases us.</p>
+
+<p>Doublets were worn by women.</p>
+
+<blockquote> &quot;The Women also have doublets and Jerkins as men have,
+buttoned up the brest, and made with Wings, Welts and Pinions on shoulder
+points as men's apparell is for all the world, &amp; though this be a kind
+of attire appropriate only to Man yet they blush not to wear
+it.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Anne Hibbins, the <i>witch</i>, had a black satin doublet among other
+substantial attire.</p>
+
+<p>A fellow-barrister of Governor John Winthrop, Sergeant Erasmus Earle, a
+most uxorious husband, was writing love-letters to his wife Frances, who
+lived out of London, at the same time that Winthrop was writing to Margaret
+Winthrop. Earle was much concerned over a certain doublet he had ordered
+for his wife. He had bought the blue bayes for this garment in two pieces,
+and he could not decide whether the shorter piece should go into the sleeve
+or the body, whether it should have skirts or not. If it did not, then he
+had bought too much silver lace, which troubled him sorely.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret Winthrop had better instincts; to her husband's query as to
+sending trimming for her doublet and gown, she answers, &quot;<i>When I see
+the cloth</i> I will send word what trimming will serve;&quot; and she
+writes to London, insisting on &quot;the civilest fashion now in use,&quot;
+and for Sister Downing, who is still in England, to give Tailor Smith
+directions &quot;that he may make it the better.&quot; Mr. Smith sent
+scissors and a hundred needles and the like homely gifts across seas as
+&quot;tokens&quot; to various members of the Winthrop household, showing
+his friendly intimacy with them all. For many years after America was
+settled we find no evidence that women's garments were ever made by
+mantua-makers. All the bills which exist are from tailors. One of William
+Sweatland for work done for Jonathan Corwin of Salem is in the library of
+the American Antiquarian Society:--</p>
+
+<table>
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound</td><td align="right">s.</td><td align="right"> d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&quot;Sept. 29, 1679. To plaiting a gown for Mrs.</td><td></td><td align="right">3</td><td align="right">6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a Childs Coat</td><td></td><td align="right">6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a Scarlet petticoat with Silver Lace for Mrs.</td><td></td><td align="right">9</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For new makeing a plush somar for Mrs.</td><td></td><td align="right">6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Dec. 22, 1679. For makeing a somar for your Maide</td><td></td><td align="right">10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Mar. 10, 1679. To a yard of Callico</td><td></td><td align="right">2</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To 1 Douzen and 1/2 of silver buttons</td><td></td><td align="right">1</td><td align="right">6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To Thread</td><td></td><td></td><td align="right">4</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a broad cloth hatte</td><td></td><td align="right">14</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a haire Camcottcoat</td><td></td><td align="right">9</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing new halfsleeves to a silk Coascett</td><td></td><td align="right">1</td></tr>
+<tr><td>March 25. To altering and fitting a paire of Stays for Mrs</td><td></td><td align="right">1</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Ap. 2, 1680, to makeing a Gowne for ye Maide</td><td></td><td align="right">10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>May 20. For removing buttons of yr coat.</td><td></td><td></td><td align="right">6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Juli 25, 1630. For makeing two Hatts and Jacketts for your two sonnes</td><td></td><td align="right">19</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Aug. 14. To makeing a white Scarsonnett plaited Gowne for Mrs</td><td></td><td align="right">8</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To makeing a black broad cloth Coat for yourselfe</td><td></td><td align="right">9</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Sept. 3, 1868. To makeing a Silke Laced Gowne for Mrs</td><td>1</td><td align="right">8</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Oct. 7, 1860, to makeing a Young Childs Coate</td><td></td><td align="right">4</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To faceing your Owne Coat Sleeves</td><td></td><td align="right">1</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To new plaiting a petty Coat for Mrs</td><td></td><td align="right">1</td><td align="right">6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Nov. 7. To makeing a black broad Cloth Gowne for Mrs</td><td></td><td align="right">18</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Feb. 26, 1680-1. To Searing a Petty Coat for Mrs</td><td></td><td align="right">6</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td></td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td>---</td><td>---</td><td>---</td></tr>
+<tr><td align=right>Sum is,</td><td>&pound;8</td><td> 4s.</td><td>10d.</td><td>&quot;</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>From many bills and inventories we learn that the time of the settlement
+of Plymouth and Boston reached a transitional period in women's dress as it
+did in men's. Mrs. Winthrop had doublets as had Governor Winthrop, but I
+think her daughter wore gowns when her sons wore coats. The doublet for a
+woman was shaped like that of a man, and was of double thickness like a
+man's. It might be sleeveless, with a row of welts or wings around the
+armhole; or if it had sleeves the welts, or a roll or cap, still remained.
+The trimming of the arm-scye was universal, both for men and women. A
+fuller description of the doublet than has ever before been written will be
+given in the chapter upon the Evolution of the Coat. The &quot;somar&quot;
+which is the samare, named also in the bill of the Salem tailor, seems to
+have been a Dutch garment, and was so much worn in New York that I prefer
+to write of it in the following chapter. We are then left with the gown;
+the gown which took definite shape in Elizabeth's day. Of course no one
+could describe it like Stubbes. I frankly confess my inability to approach
+him. Read his words, so concise yet full of color and conveying detail; I
+protest it is wonderful.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Their Gowns be no less famous, some of silk velvet
+grogram taffety fine cloth of forty shillings a yard. But if the whole gown
+be not silke or velvet then the same shall be layed with lace two or three
+fingers broade all over the gowne or the most parte. Or if not so (as Lace
+is not fine enough sometimes) then it must be garded with great gardes of
+costly Lace, and as these gowns be of sundry colours so they be of divers
+fashions changing with the Moon. Some with sleeves hanging down to their
+skirts, trayling on the ground, and cast over the shoulders like a cow's
+tayle. These have sleeves much shorter, cut up the arme, and pointed with
+Silke-ribons very gallantly tyed with true loves knottes--(for soe they
+call them). Some have capes fastened down to the middist of their backs,
+faced with velvet or else with some fine wrought silk Taffeetie at the
+least, and fringed about Bravely, and (to sum up all in a word) some are
+pleated and ryveled down the back wonderfully with more knacks than I can
+declare.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>The guards of lace a finger broad laid on over the seams of the gown are
+described by Pepys in his day. He had some of these guards of gold lace
+taken from the seams of one of his wife's old gowns to overlay the seams of
+one of his own cassocks and rig it up for wear, just as he took his wife's
+old muff, like a thrifty husband, and bought her a new muff, like a kind
+one. Not such a domestic frugalist was he, though, as his contemporary, the
+great political economist, Dudley North, Baron Guildford, Lord Sheriff of
+London, who loved to sit with his wife ripping off the old guards of lace
+from her gown, &quot;unpicking&quot; her gown, he called it, and was not at
+all secret about it. Both men walked abroad to survey the gems and guards
+worn by their neighbors' wives, and to bring home word of new stuffs, new
+trimmings, to their own wives. Really a seventeenth-century husband was not
+so bad. Note in my <i>Life of Margaret Winthrop</i> how Winthrop's
+fellow-barrister, Sergeant Erasmus Earle, bought camlet and lace, and
+patterns for doublets for his wife Frances Fontayne, and ran from London
+clothier to London mantua-maker, and then to London haberdasher and London
+tailor, to learn the newest weaves of cloth, the newest drawing in of the
+sleeves. I know no nineteenth-century husband of that name who would hunt
+materials and sleeve patterns, and buy doublet laces and find gown-guards
+for his wife. And then the gown sleeves! What a description by Stubbes of
+the virago-sleeve &quot;tied in and knotted with silk ribbons in
+love-knots!&quot; It is all wonderful to read.</p>
+
+<p>We learn from these tailors' bills that tailors' work embraced far more
+articles than to-day; in the <i>Orbis Sensualium Pictus</i>, 1659, a
+tailor's shop has hanging upon the wall woollen hats, breeches, waistcoats,
+jackets, women's cloaks, and petticoats. There are also either long hose or
+lasts for stretching hose, for they made stockings, leggins, gaiters,
+buskins; also a number of boxes which look like muff-boxes. One tailor at
+work is seated upon a platform raised about a foot from the floor. His seat
+is a curious bench with two legs about two feet long and two about one foot
+long. The base of the two long legs are on the floor, the other two set
+upon the platform. The tailor's feet are on the platform, thus his work is
+held well up before his face. Sometimes his legs are crossed upon the
+platform in front of him. The platform was necessary, or, at any rate,
+advisable for another reason. The habits of Englishmen at that time, their
+manners and customs, I mean, were not tidy; and floors were very dirty. Any
+garment resting on the floor would have been too soiled for a gentleman's
+wear before it was donned at all.</p>
+
+<p>I have discovered one thing about old-time tailors,--they were just as
+trying as their successors, and had as many tricks of trade. A writer in
+1582 says, &quot;If a tailor makes your gown too little, he covers his
+fault with a broad stomacher; if too great, with a number of pleats; if too
+short, with a fine guard; if too long with a false gathering.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In several of the household accounts of colonial dames which I have
+examined I have found the prices and items very confusing and irregular
+when compared with tailors' bills and descriptive notes and letters
+accompanying them. And in one case I was fain to believe that the lady's
+account-book had been kept upon the plan devised by the simple Mrs.
+Pepys,--a plan which did anger her spouse Samuel &quot;most mightily.&quot;
+He was filled with admiration of her household-lists--her kitchen accounts.
+He admired in the modern sense of the word &quot;admire&quot;; then he
+admired in the old-time meaning--of suspicious wonder. For albeit she could
+do through his strenuous teaching but simple sums in
+&quot;Arithmetique,&quot; had never even attempted long division, yet she
+always rendered to her husband perfectly balanced accounts, month after
+month. At last, to his angry queries, she whimpered that &quot;whenever she
+doe misse a sum of money, she do add some sums to other things,&quot; till
+she made it perfectly correct in her book--a piece of such simple duplicity
+that I wonder her husband had not suspected it months before. And she also
+revealed to him that she &quot;would lay aside money for a necklace&quot;
+by pretending to pay more for household supplies than she really had, and
+then tying up the extra amount in a stocking foot. He writes, &quot;I find
+she is very cunning and when she makes least show hath her wits at work;
+and <i>so</i> to my office to my accounts.&quot;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Costumes_of_Englishwomen_of_the_Seventeenth_Century."></a>
+<img src="images\119.png" alt="Costumes of Englishwomen of the Seventeenth Century.">
+<H4>Costumes of Englishwomen of the Seventeenth Century.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="#III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS</h3>
+
+<blockquote><i>&quot;Two things I love, two usuall thinges they are:<br>
+The Firste, New-fashioned cloaths I love to wear,<br>
+Newe Tires, newe Ruffes; aye, and newe Gestures too<br>
+In all newe Fashions I do love to goe.<br>
+ The Second Thing I love is this, I weene<br>
+ To ride aboute to have those Newe Cloaths scene.</i><br>
+
+<i>&quot;At every Gossipping I am at still<br>
+And ever wilbe--maye I have my will.<br>
+For at ones own Home, praie--who is't can see<br>
+How fyne in new-found fashioned Tyres we bee?<br>
+Vnless our Husbands--Faith! but very fewe!--<br>
+And whoo'd goe gaie, to please a Husband's view?<br>
+ Alas! wee wives doe take but small Delight<br>
+ If none (besides our husbands) see that Sight&quot;</i><br>
+<br>
+--&quot;The Gossipping Wives Complaint,&quot; 1611 (circa).<br></blockquote>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>ATTIRE OF VIRGINIA DAMES AND THEIR NEIGHBORS</h3>
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\121.png" align=left alt="I">t
+is a matter of deep regret that no &quot;Lists of Apparel&quot; were made
+out for the women emigrants in any of the colonies. Doubtless many came who
+had a distinct allotment of clothing, among them the redemptioners. We know
+one case, that of the &quot;Casket Girls,&quot; of Louisiana, where a group
+of &quot;virtuous, modest, well-carriaged young maids&quot; each had a
+casket or box of clothing supplied to her as part of her payment for
+emigration. I wish we had these lists, not that I should deem them of great
+value or accuracy in one respect since they would have been made out
+naturally by men, but because I should like to read the struggles of the
+average shipping-clerk or supercargo, or even shipping-master or company's
+president, over the items of women's dress. One reason why the lists we
+have in the court records are so wildly spelled and often vague is, I am
+sure, because the recording-clerks were always men. Such hopeless puzzles
+as droll or drowlas, cale or caul or kail, chatto or shadow, shabbaroon or
+chaperone, have come to us through these poor struggling gentlemen.</p>
+
+<p>There are not to my knowledge any portraits in existence of the wives of
+the first Dutch settlers of New Netherland. They would have been dressed, I
+am sure, in the full dress of Holland vrouws. We can turn to the court
+records of New Netherland to learn the exact item of the dress of the
+settlers. Let me give in full this inventory of an exceptionally rich and
+varied wardrobe of Madam Jacob de Lange of New Amsterdam, 1662:--</p>
+
+<table>
+<tr><td></td><td align=right>&pound;</td><td align=right> s.</td><td align=right>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One under petticoat with a body of red bay</td><td align=right>1</td><td align=right>7</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One under petticoat, scarlet</td><td align=right>1</td><td align=right>15</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One petticoat, red cloth with black lace</td><td align=right>2</td><td align=right>15</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One striped stuff petticoat with black lace</td><td align=right>2</td><td align=right>8</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Two colored drugget petticoats with gray linings</td><td align=right>1</td><td align=right>2</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Two colored drugget petticoats with white linings</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>18</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One colored drugget petticoat with pointed lace</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>8</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One black silk petticoat with ash gray silk lining</td><td align=right>1</td><td align=right>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One potto-foo silk petticoat with black silk lining</td><td align=right>2</td><td align=right>15</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One potto-foo silk petticoat with taffeta lining</td><td align=right>1</td><td align=right>13</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One silk potoso-a-samare with lace</td><td align=right>3</td><td align=right></td></tr>
+<tr><td>One tartanel samare with tucker</td><td align=right>1</td><td align=right>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One black silk crape samare with tucker</td><td align=right>1</td><td align=right>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Three flowered calico samares</td><td align=right>2</td><td align=right>17</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Three calico nightgowns, one flowered, two red</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>7</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One silk waistcoat, one calico waistcoa.</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>14</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One pair of bodices</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>4</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Five pair white cotton stockings</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>9</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Three black love-hoods</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>5</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One white love-hood</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>2</td><td align=right>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Two pair sleeves with great lace</td><td align=right>1</td><td align=right>3</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Four cornet caps with lace</td><td align=right>3</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One black silk rain cloth cap</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>One black plush mask</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>1</td><td align=right>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Four yellow lace drowlas</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>2</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>This is a most interesting list of garments. The sleeves with great lace
+must from their price have been very rich articles of dress. The yellow
+lace drowlas, since there were four of them (and no other neckerchiefs,
+such as gorgets, piccadillies, or whisks are named), must have been
+neckwear of some form. I suspect they are the lace drowls or drolls to
+which I refer in a succeeding chapter on A Vain Puritan Grandmother. The
+rain cloth cap of black silk is curious also, being intended to wear over
+another cap or a love-hood. The cornet caps with lace are a Dutch fashion.
+The &quot;lace&quot; was in the form of lappets or pinners which flapped
+down at the side of the face over the ears and almost over the cheeks.
+Evelyn speaks of a woman in &quot;a cornet with the upper pinner dangling
+about her cheeks like hound's ears.&quot; Cotgrave tells in rather vague
+definition that a cornet is &quot;a fashion of Shadow or Boone Grace used
+in old time and to this day by old women.&quot; It was not like a bongrace,
+nor like the cap I always have termed a shadow, but it had two points like
+broad horns or ears with lace or gauze spread over both and hanging from
+these horns. Cornets and corneted caps are often in Dutch inventories in
+early New York. And they can be seen in old Dutch pictures. They were one
+of the few distinctly Dutch modes that lingered in New Netherland; but by
+the third generation from the settlement they had disappeared.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Mrs._Livingstone."></a>
+<img src="images\124.png" alt="Mrs. Livingstone.">
+<H4>Mrs. Livingstone.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>What the words &quot;potto-foo&quot; and &quot;potoso-a-samare&quot;
+mean I cannot decipher. I have tried to find Dutch words allied in sound
+but in vain. I believe the samare was a Dutch fashion. We rarely find
+samares worn in Virginia and Maryland, but the name frequently occurs in
+the first Dutch inventories in New Netherland and occasionally in the
+Connecticut valley, where there were a few Dutch settlers; occasionally
+also in Plymouth, whose first settlers had been for a number of years under
+Dutch influences in Holland; and rarely in Salem and Boston, whose planters
+also had felt Dutch influences through the settling in Essex and Suffolk of
+opulent Flemish and Dutch &quot;clothiers&quot;--cloth-workers. These
+Dutchmen had married Englishwomen, and their presence in English homes was
+distinctly shown by the use then and to the present day of Dutch words,
+Dutch articles of dress, furniture, and food. From these Dutch-settled
+shires of Essex and Suffolk came John Winthrop and all the so-called Bay
+Emigration.</p>
+
+<p>I am convinced that a samare was a certain garment which I have seen in
+French, Dutch, and English portraits of the day. It is a tight-fitting
+jacket or waist or bodice--call it what you will; its skirt or portion
+below the belt-line is four to eight inches deep, cut up in tabs or oblong
+flaps, four on each side. These slits are to the belt line. It is, to
+explain further, a basque, tight-fitting or with the waist laid in plaits,
+and with the basque skirt cut in eight tabs. These laps or tabs set out
+rather stiffly and squarely over the full-gathered petticoats of the
+day.</p>
+
+<p>I turn to a Dutch dictionary for a definition of the word
+&quot;samare,&quot; though my Dutch dictionary being of the date 1735 is
+too recent a publication to be of much value. In it a samare is defined
+simply as a woman's gown. Randle Holme says, rather vaguely, that it is a
+short jacket for women's wear with four side-laps, reaching to the knees.
+In this rich wardrobe of the widow De Lange, twelve petticoats are
+enumerated and no overdress-jacket or doublet of any kind except those
+samares. Their price shows that they were not a small garment. One
+&quot;silk potoso-a-samare with lace&quot; was worth &pound;3. One
+&quot;tartanel samare with tucker&quot; was worth &pound;1 10s. One
+&quot;black silk crape samare with tucker&quot; was worth &pound;1 10s.,
+and three &quot;flowered calico&quot; samares were worth &pound;2 10s. They
+were evidently of varying weights for summer and winter wear, and were worn
+over the rich petticoat.</p>
+
+<p>The bill of the Salem tailor, William Sweatland (1679), shows that he
+charged 9s. for making a scarlet petticoat with silver lace; for making a
+black broadcloth gown 18s.; while &quot;new-makeing a plush somar for
+Mistress.&quot; (which was making over) was 6s.; &quot;making a somar for
+your Maide&quot; was 10s., which was the same price he charged for making a
+gown for the maid.</p>
+
+<p>The colors in the Dutch gowns were uniformly gay. Madam Cornelia de Vos
+in a green cloth petticoat, a red and blue &quot;Haarlamer&quot; waistcoat,
+a pair of red and yellow sleeves, a white cornet cap, green stockings with
+crimson clocks, and a purple &quot;Pooyse&quot; apron was a blooming
+flower-bed of color.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Mrs._Magdalen_Beekman."></a>
+<img src="images\127.png" alt="Mrs. Magdalen Beekman.">
+<H4>Mrs. Magdalen Beekman.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>I fear we have unconsciously formed our mental pictures of our Dutch
+forefathers through the vivid descriptions of Washington Irving. We
+certainly cannot improve upon his account of the Dutch housewife of New
+Amsterdam:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Their hair, untortured by the abominations of art, was
+scrupulously pomatumed back from their foreheads with a candle, and
+covered with a little cap of quilted calico, which fitted exactly to their
+heads. Their petticoats of linsey-woolsey were striped with a variety of
+gorgeous dyes, though I must confess those gallant garments were rather
+short, scarce reaching below the knee; but then they made up in the
+number, which generally equalled that of the gentlemen's small-clothes;
+and what is still more praise-worthy, they were all of their own
+manufacture,--of which circumstance, as may well be supposed, they were
+not a little vain.<br> <br>
+
+&quot;Those were the honest days, in which
+every woman stayed at home, read the Bible, and wore pockets,--ay, and
+that, too, of a goodly size, fashioned with patchwork into many curious
+devices, and ostentatiously worn on the outside. These, in fact, were
+convenient receptacles where all good housewives carefully stored away
+such things as they wished to have at hand; by which means they often
+came to be incredibly crammed.<br> <br> &quot;Besides these notable
+pockets, they likewise wore scissors and pincushions suspended from their
+girdles by red ribbons, or, among the more opulent and showy classes, by
+brass and even silver chains, indubitable tokens of thrifty housewives and
+industrious spinsters. I cannot say much in vindication of the shortness
+of the petticoats; it doubtless was introduced for the purpose of giving
+the stockings a chance to be seen, which were generally of blue worsted,
+with magnificent red clocks; or perhaps to display a well-turned ankle and
+a neat though serviceable foot, set off by a high-heeled leathern shoe,
+with a large and splendid silver buckle.<br> <br> &quot;There was a secret
+charm in those petticoats, which no doubt entered into the consideration
+of the prudent gallants. The wardrobe of a lady was in those days her only
+fortune; and she who had a good stock of petticoats and stockings was as
+absolutely an heiress as is a Kamtschatka damsel with a store of
+bear-skins, or a Lapland belle with plenty of
+reindeer.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>A Boston lady, Madam Knights, visiting New York in 1704, wrote also with
+clear pen:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The English go very fashionable in their dress. But the
+Dutch, especially the middling sort, differ from our women, in their
+habitt go loose, wear French muches which are like a Capp and headband in
+one, leaving their ears bare, which are sett out with jewells of a large
+size and many in number; and their fingers hoop't with rings, some with
+large stones in them of many Coullers, as were their pendants in their
+ears, which you should see very old women wear as well as
+Young.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>The jewels of one settler of New Amsterdam were unusually rich (in
+1650), and were enumerated thus:--</p>
+
+<table>
+<tr><td></td><td align=right> &pound;</td><td align=right> s.</td><td align=right>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One embroidered purse with silver bugle and chain to the girdle and silver hook and eye</td><td align=right>1</td><td align=right>4</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One pair black pendants, gold nocks</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One gold boat, wherein thirteen diamonds &amp; one white coral chain</td><td align=right> 16</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One pair gold stucks or pendants each with ten diamonds</td><td align=right>25</td></tr>
+<tr><td> Two diamond rings</td><td align=right> 24</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One gold ring with clasp beck</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>12</td></tr>
+<tr><td> One gold ring or hoop bound round with diamonds</td><td align=right>2</td><td align=right> 10</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>These jewels were owned by the wife of an English-born citizen; but some
+of the Dutch dames had handsome jewels, especially rich chatelaines with
+their equipages and etuis with rich and useful articles in variety. When we
+read of such articles, we find it difficult to credit the words of an
+English clergyman who visited Albany about the year 1700; namely, that he
+found the Dutch women of best Albany families going about their homes in
+summer time and doing their household work while barefooted.</p>
+
+<p>Many conditions existed in Maryland which were found nowhere else in the
+colonies. These were chiefly topographical. The bay and its many and
+accommodative tide-water estuaries gave the planters the means, not only of
+easy, cheap, and speedy communication with each other, but with the whole
+world. It was a freedom of intercourse not given to any other
+<i>agricultural</i> community in the whole world. It was said that every
+planter had salt water within a rifle-shot of his front gate--therefore the
+world was open to him. The tide is never strong enough on this shore to
+hinder a sailboat nor is the current of the rivers perceptible. The crop of
+the settlers was wholly tobacco--indeed, all the processes of government,
+of society, of domestic life, began and ended with tobacco. It was a
+wonderfully lucrative crop, but it was an unhappy one for any colony; for
+the tobacco ships arrived in fleets only in May and June, when the crops
+were ready for market. The ships could come in anywhere by tide-water.
+Hence there were two or three months of intense excitement, or jollity,
+lavishness, extravagance, when these ships were in; a regular Bartholomew
+Fair of disorder, coarse wit, and rough fun; and the rest of the year there
+was nothing; no business, no money, no fun. Often the planter found himself
+after a month of June gambling and fun with three years' crops pledged in
+advance to his creditors. The factor then played his part; took a mortgage,
+perhaps, on both crops and plantation; and invariably ended in owning
+everything. A striking but coarse picture of the traffic and its evils is
+given in <i>The Sot-weed Factor</i>, a poem of the day.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Lady_Anne_Clifford."></a>
+<img src="images\131.png" alt="Lady Anne Clifford.">
+<H4>Lady Anne Clifford.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Land and living were cheap in this tobacco land, but labor was needed
+for the sudden crops; so negro slaves were bought, and warm invitations
+were sent back to England for all and every kind of labor. Convicts were
+welcomed, redemptioners were eagerly sought for; and the scrupulous laws
+which were made for their protection were blazoned in England. Many
+laborers were &quot;crimped,&quot; too, in England, and brought of course,
+willy-nilly, to Maryland. Landlords were even granted lands in proportion
+to their number of servants; a hundred acres per capita was the allowance.
+It can readily be seen that an ambitious or unscrupulous planter would
+gather in in some way as many heads as possible.</p>
+
+<p>Maryland under the Baltimores was the only colony that then admitted
+convicts--that is, admitted them openly and legally. She even greeted them
+warmly, eager for the labor of their hands, which was often skilled labor;
+welcomed them for their wits, albeit these had often been ill applied;
+welcomed them for their manners, often amply refined; welcomed them for
+their possibilities of rehabilitation of morals and behavior.</p>
+
+<p>The kidnapped servants did not fare badly. Many examples are known where
+they worked on until they had acquired ample means; still the literature of
+the day is full of complaints such as this in <i>The Sot-weed
+Factor</i>:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Not then a slave; for twice two years<br>
+My clothes were fashionably new.<br>
+Nor were my shifts of linen blue.<br>
+But Things are Changed. Now at the Hoe<br>
+I daily work; and Barefoot go.<br>
+In weeding Corn, or feeding Swine<br>
+I spend my melancholy time.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Cheap ballads were sold in England warning English maidens against
+kidnapping.</p>
+
+<p>In the collection of Old Black Letter Ballads in the British Museum is
+one entitled <i>The Trappan'd Maiden or the Distressed Damsel</i>. Its date
+is believed to be 1670.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The Girl was cunningly trappan'd<br>
+Sent to Virginny from England.<br>
+Where she doth Hardship undergo;<br>
+There is no cure, it must be so;<br>
+But if she lives to cross the Main<br>
+She vows she'll ne'er go there again.<br>
+&nbsp; Give ear unto a Maid<br>
+&nbsp; That lately was betray'd<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; And sent unto Virginny O.<br>
+&nbsp; In brief I shall declare<br>
+&nbsp; What I have suffered there<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When that I was weary, O.<br>
+&nbsp; The cloathes that I brought in<br>
+&nbsp; They are worn so thin<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In the Land of Virginny O.<br>
+&nbsp; Which makes me for to say<br>
+&nbsp; Alas! and well-a-day<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When that I was weary, O.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>The indentured servant, the redemptioner, or free-willer saw before him,
+at the close of his seven years term, a home in a teeming land; he would
+own fifty acres of that land with three barrels, an axe, a gun, and a
+hoe--truly, the world was his. He would have also a suit of kersey, strong
+hose, a shirt, French fall shoes, and a good hat,--a Monmouth cap,--a suit
+worthy any man. Abigail had an equal start, a petticoat and waistcoat of
+strong wool, a perpetuana or callimaneo, two blue aprons, two linen caps, a
+pair of new shoes, two pairs of new stockings and a smock, and three
+barrels of Indian corn.</p>
+
+<p>We find that many of these redemptioners became soldiers in the colonial
+wars, often distinguished for bravery. This was through a law passed by the
+British government that all who enlisted in military service in the
+colonies were released by that act from further bondage.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Lady_Herrman."></a>
+<img src="images\134.png" alt="Lady Herrman.">
+<H4>Lady Herrman.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In the year 1659, on an autumn day, two white men with an Indian guide
+paddled swiftly over the waters of Chesapeake Bay on business of much
+import. They had come from Manhattan, and bore despatches from Governor
+Stuyvesant to the governor of Maryland, relating to the ever troublesome
+query of those days, namely, the exact placing of boundary lines. One of
+these men was Augustine Herrman, a man of parts, who had been ambassador to
+Rhode Island, a ship-owner, and man of executive ability, which was proven
+by his offer to Lord Baltimore to draw a map of Maryland and the
+surrounding country in exchange for a tract of land at the head of the bay.
+He was a land-surveyor, and drew an excellent map; and he received the four
+thousand acres afterwards known as Bohemia Manor. His portrait and that of
+his wife exist; they are wretched daubs, as were many of the portraits of
+the day, but, nevertheless, her dress is plainly revealed by it. You can
+see a copy of it <a href="#Lady_Herrman.">here</a>. The overdress, pleated
+body, and upper sleeve are green. The little lace collar is drawn up with a
+tiny ribbon just as we see collars to-day. Her hair is simplicity itself.
+The full undersleeves and heavy ear-rings give a little richness to the
+dress, which is not English nor is it Dutch.</p>
+
+<p>It is easy to know the items of the dress of the early Virginian
+settlers, where any court records exist. Many, of course, have perished in
+the terrible devastations of two long wars; but wherever they have escaped
+destruction all the records of church and town in the various counties of
+Virginia have been carefully transcribed and certified, and are open to
+consultation in the Virginia State Library at Richmond, where many of the
+originals are also preserved. Many have also been printed. Mr. Bruce, in
+his fine book, <i>The Economic History of Virginia in the Seventeenth
+Century</i>, has given frequent extracts from these certified records. From
+them and from the originals I gain much knowledge of the dress of the
+planters at that time. It varied little from dress in the New England
+colonies save that Virginians were richer than New Englanders, and so had
+more costly apparel. Almost nothing was manufactured in Virginia. The
+plainest and simplest articles of dress, save those of homespun stuffs,
+were ordered from England, as well as richer garments. We see even in
+George Washington's day, until he was prevented by war, that he sent
+frequent orders, wherein elaborately detailed attire was ordered with the
+pettiest articles for household and plantation use.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Elizabeth_Cromwell."></a>
+<img src="images\136.png" alt="Elizabeth Cromwell.">
+<H4>Elizabeth Cromwell.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Mrs. Francis Pritchard of Lancaster, Virginia (in 1660), we find had a
+representative wardrobe. She owned an olive-colored silk petticoat, another
+of silk tabby, and one of flowered tabby, one of velvet, and one of white
+striped dimity. Her printed calico gown was lined with blue silk, thus
+proving how much calico was valued. Other bodices were a striped dimity
+jacket and a black silk waistcoat. To wear with these were a pair of
+scarlet sleeves and other sleeves of ruffled holland. Five aprons, various
+neckwear of Flanders lace, and several rich handkerchiefs completed a gay
+costume to which green silk stockings gave an additional touch of color.
+Green was distinctly the favorite color for hose among all the early
+settlers; and nearly all the inventories in Virginia have that entry.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Sarah Willoughby of Lower Norfolk, Virginia, had at the same date a
+like gay wardrobe, valued, however, at but &pound;14. Petticoats of calico,
+striped linen, India silk, worsted prunella, and red, blue, and black silk
+were accompanied with scarlet waistcoats with silver lace, a white knit
+waistcoat, a &quot;pair of red paragon bodices,&quot; and another pair of
+sky-colored satin bodices. She had also a striped stuff jacket, a worsted
+prunella mantle, and a black silk gown. There were distinctions in the
+shape of the outer garments--mantles, jackets, and gowns. Hoods, aprons,
+and bands completed her comfortable attire.</p>
+
+<p>Though so much of the clothing of the Virginia planters was made in
+England, there was certain work done by home tailors; such work as repairs,
+alterations, making children's common clothing, and the like, also the
+clothing of upper servants. Often the tailor himself was a bond-servant.
+Thus, Luke Mathews, a tailor from Hereford, England, was bound to Thomas
+Landon for a term of two years from the day he landed. He was to have
+sixpence a day while working for the Landon family, but when working for
+other persons half of whatever he earned. In the Lancaster County records
+is a tailor's account (one Noah Rogers) from the year 1690 to 1709; it was
+paid, of course, in tobacco. We may set the tobacco as worth about twopence
+a pound. It will be thus seen from the following items that prices in
+Virginia were higher than in New England:--</p>
+
+
+<table>
+<tr><td></td><td align=center>Pounds</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For making seven womens' Jacketts</td><td align=center>70</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For making a Coat for y'r Wife</td><td align=center>60</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For altering a Plush Britches</td><td align=center>20</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For Y'r Wife &amp; Daughturs Jackett</td><td align=center>30</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For y'r Britches</td><td align=center>20</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Coat</td><td align=center>40</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Y'r Boys Jacketts</td><td align=center>20</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Y'r Sons britches</td><td align=center>25</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Y'r Eldest Sons Ticking Suite</td><td align=center>60</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To making I Dimity Waistcoat, Serge suite 2 Cotton</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Waistcoats and y'r Dimity Coat</td><td align=center>185</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For a pr of buff Gloves</td><td align=center>100</td></tr>
+<tr><td>For I Neck Cloth</td><td align=center>12</td></tr>
+<tr><td>A pr of Stockings</td><td align=center>120</td></tr>
+<tr><td>A pr Callimmaneo britches</td><td align=center>60</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Another bill of the year 1643 reads:--</p>
+
+<table>
+<tr><td></td><td align=center>Pounds</td></tr>
+<tr><td>To making a suit with buttons to it</td><td align=center>80</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 ell canvas</td><td align=center>30</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for dimothy linings</td><td align=center>30</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for buttons &amp; silke</td><td align=center>50</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for points</td><td align=center>50</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for taffeta</td><td align=center>58</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for belly pieces</td><td align=center>40</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for hooks &amp; eies</td><td align=center>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for ribbonin for pockets</td><td align=center>20</td></tr>
+<tr><td>for stiffinin for a collar</td><td align=center>10</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td><td align=center>---</td></tr>
+<tr><td align=right>Sum</td><td align=center>378</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>The extraordinary prices of one hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco for
+making a pair of stockings, and one hundred for a pair of gloves, when
+making a coat was but forty, must remain a seventeenth-century puzzle. This
+coat was probably a petticoat. It is curious, too, to find a tailor making
+gloves and stockings at any price. I think both buff gloves and stockings
+were of leather. Perhaps he charged thus broadly because it was &quot;not
+in his line.&quot; Work in leather was always well paid. We find tailors
+making leather breeches and leather drawers; the latter could not be the
+garments thus named to-day. Tailors became prosperous and well-to-do,
+perhaps because they worked in winter when other Virginia tradesfolk were
+idle; and they acquired large tracts of land.</p>
+
+<p>The conditions of settlement of Virginia were somewhat different from
+those of the planting of New England. We find the land of many
+Massachusetts towns wholly taken up by a group of settlers who emigrated
+together from the Old World and gathered into a town together in the New.
+It was like the transferal of a neighborhood. It brought about many happy
+results of mutual helpfulness and interdependence. From it arose that
+system of domestic service in which the children of friends rendered
+helpful duty in other households and were called help. Nothing of the kind
+existed in Virginia. There was far less neighborhood life. Plantations were
+isolated. Lines of demarcation in domestic service were much more definite
+where black life slaves and white bond-servants for a term of years
+performed all household service. For the daughter of one Virginia household
+to &quot;help&quot; in the work in another household was unknown. Each
+system had its benefits; each had its drawbacks. Neither has wholly
+survived; but something better has been evolved, in spite of our
+lamentations for the good old times.</p>
+
+<p>Life is better ordered, but it is not so picturesque as when negro
+servants swarmed in the kitchen, and German, Scotch, and Irish
+redemptioners served in varied callings. There was vast variety of attire
+to be found on the Virginia and Maryland plantations and in the few towns
+of these colonies. The black slaves wore homespun cloths and homespun
+stuff, crocus and Virginia cloth; and the women were happy if they could
+crown their simple attire with gay turbans. Indians stalked up to the
+plantation doors, halted in silence, and added their gay dress of the wild
+woods. German sectaries and mystics fared on garbed in their simple peasant
+dress. Irish sturdy beggars idled and fiddled through existence, in dress
+of shabby gentility, with always a wig. &quot;Wild-Irish&quot; came in
+brogues and Irish trousers. Sailors and pirates came ashore gayly dressed
+in varied costume, with gay sashes full of pistols and cutlasses,
+swaggering from wharf to plantation. Queer details of dress had all these
+varied souls; some have lingered to puzzle us.</p>
+
+<p>A year ago I had sent to me, by a descendant of an old Virginia family,
+a photograph of a curious gold medal or disk, a family relic which was
+evidently a token of some importance, since it bore tiny holes and had
+marks of having been affixed as an insignia. Though I could decipher the
+bold initials, cut in openwork, I could judge little by the colorless
+photograph, and finally with due misgivings and great precautions in
+careful packing, insurance, etc., the priceless family relic was intrusted
+to an express company for transmission to my inspection. Glad indeed was I
+that the owner had not presented it in person; for the decoration of honor,
+the insignia of rank, the trophy of prowess in war or emblem of conquest in
+love, was the pauper's badge of a Maryland or Virginia parish. It was not a
+pleasant task to write back the mortifying news; but I am proud of the
+letter which I composed; no one could have done the deed better.</p>
+
+<p>There was an old law in Virginia which ran thus:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Every person who shall receive relief from the parish and
+be sent to the said alms-house, shall, upon the shoulder of the right
+sleeve of his uppermost garment in an open and visible manner, wear a
+badge with the name of the parish to which he or she belongs, cut in red,
+blue or green cloth, as the vestry or church wardens shall direct. And if
+any poor person shall neglect or refuse to wear such badge, such offense
+may be punished either by ordering his or her allowance to be abridged,
+suspended or withdrawn, or the offender to be whipped not exceeding five
+lashes for one offense; and if any person not entitled to relief as
+aforesaid, shall presume to wear such badge, he or she shall be whipped for
+every such offense.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>This law did not mean the full name of the parish, but significant
+initials. Sometimes the initials &quot;P P&quot; were employed, standing
+for public pauper. In other counties a metal badge was ordered, often cast
+in pewter. In one case a die-cutter was made by which an oblong brass badge
+could be cut, and stamps of letters to stamp the badges accompanied it.
+Sometimes these badges were three inches long.</p>
+
+<p>The expression, &quot;the badge of poverty,&quot; became a literal one
+when all persons receiving parochial relief had to wear a large Roman
+&quot;P&quot; with the initial of their parish set on the right sleeve of
+the uppermost garment in an open and visible manner. Likewise all
+pensioners were ordered to wear their badges &quot;so they may be
+seen.&quot; A pauper who refused to do this might be whipped and imprisoned
+for twenty-one days. Moreover, if the parish beadle neglected to spy out
+that the badge was missing from some poor pensioner, he had to pay half a
+crown himself. This legality was necessitated by actions like that of the
+English goody, who, when ordered to wear this pauper's badge, demurely
+fastened it to her flannel petticoat. For this law, like all the early
+Virginia statutes, was simply a transcript of English laws. In New York,
+for some years in the eighteenth century, the parish poor--there were no
+paupers--were ordered to wear these badges.</p>
+
+<p>This mode of stigmatizing offenders as well as paupers was in force in
+the earlier days of all the colonies. Its existence in New England has been
+immortalized in <i>The Scarlet Letter</i>. I have given in my book,
+<i>Curious Punishments of By-gone Days</i>, many examples of the wearing of
+significant letters by criminals in various New England towns, in Plymouth,
+Salem, Taunton, Boston, Hartford, New London, also in New York. It offered
+a singular and striking detail of costume to see William Bacon in Boston,
+and Robert Coles in Roxbury, wearing &quot;hanged about their necks on
+their outerd garment a D made of Ridd cloth sett on white.&quot; A Boston
+woman wore a great &quot;B,&quot; not for Boston, but for blasphemy. John
+Davis wore a &quot;V&quot; for viciousness. Others were forced to wear for
+years a heavy cord around the neck, signifying that the offender lived
+under the shadow of the gallows and its rope.</p>
+
+<p>But return we to the metal badge which has caused this diversion to so
+gloomy a subject as crime and punishment. It was simply an oblong plate
+about three and one-half inches long, of humble metal--pinchbeck, or
+alchemy--but plated heavily with gold, therefore readily mistaken for solid
+gold; upon it the telltale initials &quot;P P&quot; had been stamped with a
+die, while smaller letters read &quot;St. J. Psh.&quot; These confirmed my
+immediate suspicions, for I had seen an order of relief for a stricken
+wanderer--an order for two weeks' relief, where the wardens of &quot;St. J.
+Psh.&quot; ordered the sheriff to send the pauper on--to make him
+&quot;move along&quot; to some other parish. This gold badge was not unlike
+the metal badges worn on the left arm by &quot;Bedlam beggars,&quot; the
+licensed beggars of Bethlehem Hospital, the half-cured patients of that
+asylum for lunatics.</p>
+
+<p>The owner of this badge with ancient letters had not idly accepted them,
+or jumped at the conclusion that it was a decoration of honor for his
+ancestor. He had searched its history long, and he had found in Hall's
+<i>Chronicles of the Pageants and Progress of the English Kings</i> ample
+reference to similar letters, but not as pauper's badges. Indeed, like many
+another well-read and intelligent person, he had never heard of pauper's
+badges. He read:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;In this garden was the King and five with him apparyelled
+in garments of purpull satyn, every edge garnished with frysed golde and
+every garment full of posyes made of letters of fine gold, of bullion as
+thick as might be. And six Ladyes wore rochettes rouled with crymosyn
+velvet and set with lettres like Carettes. And after the Kyng and his
+compaignions had daunsed, he appointed the Ladies, Gentlewomen, and
+Ambassadours to take the lettres off their garments in token of
+liberalyte. Which thing the common people perceiving, ranne to them and
+stripped them. And at this banket a shypman of London caught certayn
+lettres which he sould to a goldsmith for &pound;3. 14s.
+8d.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>All this was pleasing to the vanity of our friend, who fancied his
+letters as having taken part in a like pageant; perhaps as a gift of the
+king himself. We must remember that he believed his badge of pure gold. He
+did not know it was a base metal, plated. He proudly pictured his forbears
+taking part in some kingly pageant. He scorned so modern and commonplace a
+possibility as a society like Knights of the Golden Horseshoe, which was
+formed of Virginian gentlefolk.</p>
+
+<p>It plainly was a relic of some romance, and in the strangely picturesque
+events of the early years in this New World need not, though a pauper's
+badge, have been a badge of dishonor. What strange event or happening, or
+scene had it overlooked? Why had it been covered with its golden sheet? Was
+it in defiance or in satire, in remorse, or in revenge, or in humble and
+grateful recognition of some strange and protecting Providence? We shall
+never know. It was certainly not an agreeable discovery, to think that your
+great-grandmother or grandfather had probably been branded as a public
+pauper; but there were strange exiles and strange paupers in those days,
+exiles through political parties, through the disfavor of kings, through
+religious conviction, and the pauper of the golden badge, the pauper of
+&quot;St. J. Psh.,&quot; may have ended his days as vestryman of that very
+church. Certain it was, that no ordinary pauper would have, or could have,
+thus preserved it; and from similar reverses and glorifying equally base
+objects came the subjects of half the crests of English heraldry.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Pocahontas."></a>
+<img src="images\146.png" alt="Pocahontas.">
+<H4>Pocahontas.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The likeness of Pocahontas (<a href="#Pocahontas.">here</a>) is dated
+1616. It is in the dress of a well-to-do Englishwoman, a woman of
+importance and means. This portrait has been a shock to many who idealized
+the Indian princess as &quot;that sweet American girl&quot; as Thackeray
+called her. Especially is it disagreeable in many of the common prints from
+it. One flippant young friend, the wife of an army officer, who had been
+stationed in the far West, said of it, in disgust, remembering her frontier
+residence, &quot;With a man's hat on! just like every old Indian
+squaw!&quot; This hat is certainly displeasing, but it was not worn through
+Indian taste; it was an English fashion, seen on women of wealth as well as
+of the plainer sort. I have a score of prints and photographs of English
+portraits, wherein this mannish hat is shown. In the original of this
+portrait of Pocahontas, the heavy, sombre effect is much lightened by the
+gold hatband. These rich hatbands were one of the articles of dress
+prohibited as vain and extravagant by the Massachusetts magistrates. They
+were costly luxuries. We find them named and valued in many inventories in
+all the colonies, and John Pory, secretary of the Virginia colony, wrote
+about that time to a friend in England a sentence which has given, I think
+to all who read it, an exaggerated notion of the dress of Virginians:--</p>
+
+<blockquote> &quot;Our cowekeeper here of James citty on Sundays goes
+accoutred all in ffreshe fflaminge silke, and a wife of one that had in
+England professed the blacke arte not of a Scholler but of a Collier
+weares her rough beaver hatt with a faire perle hatband, and a silken sute
+there to correspond.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Corroborative evidence of the richness and great cost of these hatbands
+is found in a letter of Susan Moseley to Governor Yardley of Virginia,
+telling of the exchange of a hatband and jewel for four young cows, one
+older cow and four oxen, on account of her &quot;great want of
+cattle.&quot; She writes on &quot;this Last July 1650, at Elizabeth River
+in Virginia&quot;:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I had rayther your wife should weare them then any gentle
+woman I yet know in ye country; but good Sir have <i>no</i> scruple
+concerninge their rightnesse, for I went my selfe from Rotterdam to ye
+haugh (The Hague) to inquire of ye gould smiths and found y't they weare
+all Right, therefore thats without question, and for ye hat band y't alone
+coste five hundred gilders as my husband knows verry well and will tell
+you soe when he sees you; for ye Juell and ye ringe they weare made for me
+at Rotterdam and I paid in good rex dollars sixty gilders for ye Juell and
+fivety and two gilders for ye ringe, which comes to in English monny
+eleaven poundes fower shillings. I have sent the sute and Ringe by your
+servant, and I wish Mrs. Yeardley health and prosperity to weare them in,
+and give you both thanks for your kind token. When my husband comes home
+we will see to gett ye Cattell home, in ye meantime I present my Love and
+service to your selfe &amp; wife, and commit you all to God, and
+remaine,<br><br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &quot;Your friend and servant,<br>
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;SUSAN
+MOSELEY.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>The purchasing value of five hundred guilders, the cost of the hatband,
+would be equal to-day to nearly a thousand dollars.</p>
+
+<p>In the portrait of Pocahontas in the original, there is also much
+liveliness of color, a rich scarlet with heavy braidings; these all lessen
+somewhat the forbidding presence of the stiff hat. She carries a fan of
+ostrich feathers, such as are depicted in portraits of Queen Elizabeth.</p>
+
+<p>These feather fans had little looking-glasses of silvered glass or
+polished steel set at the base of the feathers. Euphues says, &quot;The
+glasses you carry in fans of feathers show you to be lighter than feathers;
+the new-found glass chains that you wear about your necks, argue you to be
+more brittle than glass.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>These fans were, in the queen's hands, as large as hand fire-screens;
+many were given to her as New Year's gifts or other tokens, one by Sir
+Francis Drake. This makes me believe that they were a fashion taken from
+the North American Indians and eagerly adopted in England; where, for two
+centuries, everything related to the red-men of the New World was seized
+upon with avidity--except their costume.</p>
+
+<p>The hat worn by Pocahontas, or a lower crowned form of it, is seen in
+the Hollar drawing of Puritan women (<a
+href="#Costumes_of_Englishwomen_of_the_Seventeenth_Century.">here</a>),
+where it seems specially ugly and ineffective, and on the Quaker
+Tub-preacher. It lingered for many years, perched on top of French hoods,
+close caps, kerchiefs, and other variety of head-gear worn by women of all
+ranks; never elegant, never becoming. I can think of no reason for its long
+existence and dominance save its costliness. It was not imitated, so it
+kept its place as long as the supply of beaver was ample. This hat was also
+durable. A good beaver hat was not for a year nor even for a generation. It
+lasted easily half a century. But we all know that the beaver disappeared
+suddenly from our forests; and as a sequence the beaver hat was no longer
+available for common wear. It still held its place as a splendid,
+feather-trimmed, rich article of dress, a hat for dress wear, and it was
+then comely and becoming. Within a few years, through national and state
+protection, the beaver, most interesting of wild creatures, has increased
+and multiplied in North America until it has become in certain localities a
+serious pest to lumbermen. We must revive the fashion of real beaver
+hats--that will speedily exterminate the race.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Duchess_of_Buckingham_and_her_Two_Children."></a>
+<img src="images\150.png" alt="Duchess of Buckingham and her Two Children.">
+<H4>Duchess of Buckingham and her Two Children.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>It always has seemed strange to me that, in the prodigious interest felt
+in England for the American Indian, an interest shown in the thronging,
+gaping sight-seers that surrounded every taciturn red-man who visited the
+Old World, no fashions of ornament or dress were copied as gay, novel, or
+becoming. The Indian afforded startling detail to interest the most jaded
+fashion-seeker. The <i>Works of Captain John Smith</i>, Strachey's
+<i>Historie of Travaile into Virginia</i>, the works of Roger Williams, of
+John Josselyn, the letters of various missionaries, give full accounts of
+their brilliant attire; and many of these works were illustrated. The
+beautiful mantles of the Virginia squaws, made of carefully dressed skins,
+were tastefully fringed and embroidered with tiny white beads and minute
+disks of copper, like spangles, which, with the buff of the dressed skin,
+made a charming color-study--copper and buff--picked out with white.
+Sometimes small brilliant shells or feathers were added to the fringes. An
+Indian princess, writes one chronicler, wore a fair white deerskin with a
+frontal of white coral and pendants of &quot;great but imperfect-colored
+and worse-drilled pearls&quot;--our modern baroque pearls. A chain of
+linked copper encircled her neck; and her maid brought to her a mantle
+called a &quot;puttawas&quot; of glossy blue feathers sewed so thickly and
+evenly that it seemed like heavy purple satin.</p>
+
+<p>A traveller wrote thus of an Indian squaw and brave:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;His wife was very well favored, of medium stature and
+very bashful. She had on her back a long cloak of leather, with the fur
+side next to her body. About her forehead she had a band of white coral.
+In her ears she had bracelets of pearls hanging down to her waist. The
+rest of her women of the better sort had pendants of copper hanging in
+either ear, and some of the children of the King's brother and other
+noblemen, had five or six in either ear. He himself had upon his head a
+broad plate of gold or copper, for being unpolished we knew not which
+metal it might be, neither would he by any means suffer us to take it off
+his head. His apparel was like his wife's, only the women wear their hair
+long on both sides of the head, and the men on but one side. They are of
+color yellowish, and their hair black for the most part, and yet we saw
+children who had very fine auburn and chestnut colored
+hair.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>John Josselyn wrote of tawny beauties:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;They are girt about the middle with a Zone wrought with
+Blue and White Beads into Pretty Works. Of these Beads they have
+Bracelets for the Neck and Arms, and Links to hang in their Ears, and a
+Fair Table curiously made up with Beads Likewise to wear before their
+Breast. Their Hair they combe backward, and tye it up short with a Border
+about two Handsfull broad, wrought in works as the Other with their
+Beads.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Powhatan's &quot;Habit&quot; still exists. It is in England, in the
+Tradescant Collection which formed the nucleus of the Ashmolean Collection.
+It was probably presented by Captain John Smith himself. It is made of two
+deerskins ornamented with &quot;roanoke&quot; shell-work, about seven feet
+long by five feet wide. Roanoke is akin to wampum, but this is made of West
+Indian shells. The figures are circles, a crude human figure and two
+mythical composite animals. He also wore fine mantles of raccoon skins. A
+conjurer's dress was simply a girdle with a single deerskin, while a great
+blackbird with outstretched wings was fastened to one ear--a striking
+ornament. I am always delighted to read such proof as this of a fact that I
+have ever known, namely, that the American Indian is the most accomplished,
+the most telling <i>poseur</i> the world has ever known. The ear of the
+Indian man and woman was pierced along the entire outer edge and filled
+with long drops, a fringe of coral, gold, and pearl. The wives of Powhatan
+wore triple strings of great pearls close around their throats, and a long
+string over one shoulder, while their mantles were draped to show their
+full handsome neck and arms. Altogether, with their carefully dressed hair,
+they would have made in full dress a fine show in a modern opera-box, and,
+indeed, the Indian squaws did cause vast exhibition of curiosity and
+delight when they visited London and were taken sight-seeing and
+sight-seen.</p>
+
+<p>As early as 1629 an Indian chief with his wife and son came from Nova
+Scotia to England. Lord Poulet paid them much attention in Somersetshire,
+and Lady Poulet took Lady Squaw up to London and gave her a necklace and a
+diamond, which I suppose she wore with her blue and white beads.</p>
+
+<p>Be the story of the saving of John Smith by Pocahontas a myth or the
+truth, it forever lives a beautiful and tender reality in the hearts of
+American children. Pocahontas was not the only Indian squaw who played a
+kindly part in the first colonization of this country. There were many,
+though their deeds and names are forgotten; and there was one Indian woman
+whose influence was much greater and more prolonged than was that of
+Pocahontas, and was haloed with many years of exciting adventure as well as
+romance. Let me recount a few details of her life, that you may wonder with
+me that the only trace of Indian life marked indelibly on England was found
+on the swinging signs of inns known by the name of &quot;The Bell
+Savage,&quot; &quot;La Belle Sauvage,&quot; and even &quot;The Savage and
+Bell.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This second Indian squaw was a South Carolina neighbor of our beloved
+Pocahontas; she had not, alas, the lovely disposition and noble character
+of Powhatan's daughter. She was systematically and constitutionally
+mischievous, like a rogue elephant, so I call her a rogue squaw. Her name
+was Coosaponakasee. The name is too long and too hard to say with
+frequency, so we will do as did her English friends and foes--call her
+Mary. Indeed, she was baptized Mary, for she was a half-breed, and her
+white father had her reared like a Christian, had her educated like an
+English girl as far as could be done in the little primitive settlement of
+Ponpon, South Carolina. It will be shown that the attempt was not
+over-successful.</p>
+
+<p>She was a princess, the niece of crafty old Brim, the king of two
+powerful tribes of Georgia Indians, the Creeks and Uchees. In 1715, when
+she was about fifteen years old, a fierce Indian war broke out in the early
+spring, and at the defeat of the Indians she promptly left her school and
+her church and went out into the wilds, a savage among savages, preferring
+defeat and a wild summer in the woods with her own people to decorous
+victory within doors with her fellow Christians.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="A_Woman's_Doublet._Mrs._Anne_Turner."></a>
+<img src="images\155.png" alt="A Woman's Doublet.">
+<H4>A Woman's Doublet. Mrs. Anne Turner.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The following year an Englishman, Colonel John Musgrove, accompanied by
+his son, went out as a mediator to the Creek Indians to secure their
+friendship, or at any rate their neutrality. The young squaw, Mary, served
+as interpreter, and the younger English pacificator promptly proved his
+amicable disposition by falling in love with her. He did what was more
+unusual, he married her; and soon they set up a large trading-house on the
+Savannah River, where they prospered beyond belief. On the arrival of the
+shipload of emigrants sent out by the Trustees of Georgia the English found
+Mary Musgrove and her husband already carrying on a large trade, in
+securing and transacting which she had served as interpreter. When
+Oglethorpe landed, he at once went to her, and asked permission to settle
+near her trading-station. She welcomed him, helped him, interpreted for
+him, and kept things in general running smoothly in the settlement between
+the English and the Indians. The two became close friends, and as long as
+generous but confiding Oglethorpe remained, all went well in the
+settlement; but in time he returned to England, giving her a handsome
+diamond ring in token of his esteem. Her husband died soon after and she
+removed to a new station called Mount Venture. Oglethorpe shortly wrote of
+her:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I find that there is the utmost endeavour by the
+Spaniards to destroy her because she is of consequence and in the King's
+interests; therefor it is the business of the King's friends to support
+her; besides which I shall always be desirous to serve her out of the
+friendship she has shown me as well as the colony.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>In a letter of John Wesley's written to Lady Oglethorpe, and now
+preserved in the Georgia Historical Society, he refers frequently to Mary
+Musgrove, saying:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I had with me an interpreter the half-breed, Mary
+Musgrove, and daily had meetings for instruction and prayer. One woman
+was baptized. She was of them who came out of great tribulation, her
+husband and all her three children having been drowned four days before in
+crossing the Ogeechee River. Her happiness in the gospel caused me to feel
+that, like Job, the widow's heart had been caused to sing for joy. She was
+married again the day following her baptism. I suggested longer days of
+mourning. She replied that her first husband was surely dead; and that his
+successor was of much substance, owning a cornfield and gun. I doubt the
+interpreter Mary Musgrove, that she is yet in the valley and shadow of
+darkness.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>One can picture the excitement of the Choctaw squaw to lose her husband
+and children, and to get another husband and religion in a week's time. Her
+reply that her husband &quot;was surely dead&quot; bears a close
+resemblance to the hackneyed story of the response to a charivari query of
+the Dutch bridegroom who had been a widower but a week, &quot;Ain't my vife
+as deadt as she ever vill be?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her usefulness continued. If a &quot;talk&quot; were had with the
+Indians in Savannah, Fredonia, or any other settlement, Mary had to be sent
+for; if Indian warriors had to be hired, to keep an army against the
+Spanish or marauding Indians, Mary obtained them from her own people. If
+land were bought of the Indians, Mary made the trade. She soon married
+Captain Matthews, who had been sent out with a small English troop to
+protect her trading-post; he also speedily died, leaving her free, after
+alliances with trade and war, to find a third husband in ecclesiastical
+circles, in the person of one Chaplain Bosomworth, a parson of much
+pomposity and ambition, and of liberal education without a liberal brain.
+He had had a goodly grant of lands to prompt and encourage him in his
+missionary endeavors; and he was under the direction and protection of the
+Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. His mission was to convert the
+Indians, and he began by marrying one; he then proceeded to break the law
+by bringing in the first load of negro slaves in that colony, a trade which
+was positively prohibited by the conditions and laws of the colony. When
+his illegal traffic was stopped, he got his wife to send in back claims to
+the colony of Georgia for $25,000 as interpreter, mediator, agent, etc.,
+for the English. She had already been paid about a thousand dollars. This
+demand being promptly refused, the hitherto pacific and friendly Mary,
+edged on by that sorry specimen of a parson, her husband, began a series of
+annoying and extraordinary capers. She declared herself empress of Georgia,
+and after sending her half-brother, a full-blooded Indian, as an
+advance-courier, she came with a body of Indians to Savannah. The Rev.
+Thomas Bosomworth, decked in full canonical robes, headed the Indians by
+the side of his empress wife, dressed in Indian costume; and an imposing
+procession they made, with plenty of theatrical color. At first the
+desperate colonists thought of seizing Mary and shipping her off to England
+to Oglethorpe, but this notion was abandoned. As the English soldiers were
+very few at that special time, and the Indian warriors many, we can well
+believe that the colonists were well scared, the more so that when the
+Indians were asked the reason of their visit, &quot;their answers were very
+trifling and very dark.&quot; So a feast was offered them, but Mary and her
+brother refused to come and to eat; and the dinner was scarcely under way
+when more armed Indians appeared from all quarters in the streets, running
+up and down in an uproar, and the town was in great confusion. The alarm
+drums were beaten, and it was reported that the Indians had cut off the
+head of the president as they sat together at the feast. Every man in the
+colony turned out in full arms for duty, the women and children gathered in
+groups in their homes in unspeakable terror. Then the president and his
+assistants who had been at the dinner, and who had gone unarmed to show
+their friendly intent, did what they should have done in the beginning,
+seized that disreputable specimen of an English missionary, the Rev. Mr.
+Bosomworth, and put him in prison; and we wonder they kept their hands off
+him as long as they did. Still trying to settle the matter without
+bloodshed, the president asked the Indian chiefs to adjourn to his house
+&quot;to drink a glass of wine and talk the matter over.&quot; Into this
+conference came Mary, bereft of her husband, raging like a madwoman,
+threatening the lives of the magistrates, swearing she would annihilate the
+colony. &quot;A fig for your general,&quot; screamed she, &quot;you own not
+a foot of land in this colony. The whole earth is mine.&quot; Whereupon the
+Empress of Georgia, too, was placed under military guard.</p>
+
+<p>Then a harassing week of apprehension ensued; the Indians were fed, and
+parleyed with, and reasoned with, and explained to. At last Mary's brother
+Malatche, at a conference, presented as a final demand a paper setting
+forth plainly the claims of the Indians. The sequel of this presentation is
+almost comic. The paper was so evidently the production of Bosomworth, and
+so wholly for his own personal benefit and not for that of the Indians, and
+the astonishment of the president and his council was so great at his vast
+and open assumption, that the Indians were bewildered in turn by the
+strange and unexpected manner of the white men upon reading the paper; and
+childishly begged to have the paper back again &quot;to give to him who
+made it.&quot; A plain exposition of Bosomworth's greed and craft followed,
+and all seemed amicably explained and settled, and the Creeks offered to
+smoke the pipe of peace; when in came Mary, having escaped her guards, full
+of rum and of rancor. The president said to her in a low voice that unless
+she ceased brawling and quarrelling he would at once put her into close
+confinement; she turned in a rage to her brother, and translated the
+threat. He and every Indian in the room sprang to their feet, drew
+tomahawks, and for a short time a complete massacre was imminent. Then the
+captain of the guard, Captain Noble Jones, who had chafed under all this
+explaining diplomacy, lost his much-tried patience, and like a brave and
+fearless English soldier ordered the Indians to surrender arms. Though far
+greater in number than the English, they yielded to his intrepidity and
+wrath; and the following night and day they sneaked out of the town, as
+ordered, by twos and threes.</p>
+
+<p>For one month this fright and commotion and expense had existed; and at
+last wholly alone were left the two contemptible malcontents and
+instigators of it all. Mr. and Mrs. Bosomworth thereafter ate very humble
+pie; he begged sorely and cried tearfully to be forgiven; and he wailed so
+deeply and promised so broadly that at last the two were publicly
+pardoned.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, after all, they had their own way; for they soon went to London and
+cut an infinitely fine figure there. Mary was the top of the mode, and
+there Bosomworth managed to get for his wife lands and coin to the amount
+of about a hundred thousand dollars.</p>
+
+<p>The prosperous twain returned to America in triumph, and built a curious
+and large house on an island they had acquired; in it the Empress did not
+long reign; at her death the Rev. Mr. Bosomworth married his
+chambermaid.</p>
+
+<p>Such is the sorry tale of the Indian squaw and the English parson, a
+tale the more despicable because, though she had been reared in English
+ways, baptized in the English faith, had been the friend of English men and
+women, and married three English husbands; yet when fifty years old she
+returned at vicious suggestion with promptitude and fierceness to violent
+savage ways, to incite a massacre of her friends. And that suggestion came
+not from her barbarian kin, but from an English gentleman--a Christian
+priest.</p>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="#IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER</h3>
+
+
+ <blockquote><i>&quot;Things farre-fetched and deare-bought are good for Ladies.&quot;</i><br>
+<br>
+--&quot;Arte of English Poesie,&quot; G. PUTTENHAM, 1589.<br>
+<br><br>
+ <i>&quot;I honour a Woman that can honour herself with her Attire. A
+ good Text deserves a Fair Margent.&quot;</i><br>
+<br>
+--&quot;The Simple Cobbler of Agawam,&quot; J. WARD, 1713.<br></blockquote>
+<br>
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>A VAIN PURITAN GRANDMOTHER</h3>
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\initialt.png" align=left
+alt="T">here was a certain family prominent in affairs in the seventeenth
+and eighteenth centuries, with members resident in England, New England,
+and the Barbadoes. They were gentlefolk--and gentle folk; they were of
+birth and breeding; and they were kindly, tender, affectionate to one
+another. They were given to much letter-writing, and better still to much
+letter-keeping. Knowing the quality of their letters, I cannot wonder at
+either habit; for the prevalence of the letter-keeping was due, I am sure,
+to the perfection of the writing. Their letters were ever lively in
+diction, direct and lucid in description, and widely varied in interest;
+therefore they were well worthy of preservation, simply for the owner's
+re-reading. They have proved so for all who have brushed the dust from the
+packages and deciphered the faded words. Moreover, these letters are among
+the few family letters of our two centuries which convey, either to the
+original reader or to his successor of to-day, anything that could, by most
+generous construction or fullest imagination, be deemed equivalent to what
+we now term News.</p>
+
+<p>Of course their epistles contained many moral reflections and ample
+religious allusions and aspirations; and they even transcribed to each
+other, in full, long Biblical quotations with as much exactness and length
+as if each deemed his correspondent a benighted heathen, with no Bible to
+consult, instead of being an equally pious kinsman with a Bible in every
+room of his house.</p>
+
+<p>Their name was Hall. The heads of the family in early colonial days were
+the merchants John Hall and Hugh Hall; these surnames have continued in the
+family till the present time, as has the cunning of hand and wit of brain
+in letter-writing, even into the seventh and eighth generation, as I can
+abundantly testify from my own private correspondence. I have quoted freely
+in several of my books from old family letters and business letter-books of
+the Hall family. Many of these letters have been intrusted to me from the
+family archives; others, especially the business letters, have found their
+way, through devious paths, to our several historical societies; where they
+have been lost in oblivion, hidden through churlishness, displayed in
+pride, or offered in helpfulness, as suited the various humors of their
+custodians. To the safe, wise, and generous guardianship of the American
+Antiquarian Society fell a collection of letters of the years 1663 to 1684,
+written from London by the merchant John Hall to his mother, Madam Rebekah
+Symonds, who, after a fourth matrimonial venture,--successful, as were all
+her marriages,--was living, in what must have seemed painful seclusion to
+any Londoner, in the struggling little New England hamlet of Ipswich,
+Massachusetts.</p>
+
+<p>I wish to note as a light-giving fact in regard to these letters that
+the Halls were as happy in marrying as in letter-writing, and as assiduous.
+They married early; they married late. And by each marriage increased
+wonderfully either the number of descendants, or of influential family
+connections, who were often also business associates.</p>
+
+<p>Madam Symonds had four excellent husbands, more than her share of good
+fortune. She married Henry Byley in 1636; John Hall in 1641; William
+Worcester in 1650; and Deputy Governor Symonds in 1663. She was, therefore,
+in 1664, scarcely more than a bride (if one may be so termed for the fourth
+time), when many costly garments were sent to her by her devoted and loving
+son, John Hall; she was then about forty-eight years of age. Her husband,
+Governor Symonds, was a gentle and noble old Puritan gentleman, a New
+Englishman of the best type; a Christian of missionary spirit who wrote
+that he &quot;could go singing to his grave&quot; if he felt sure that the
+poor benighted Indians were won to Christ. His stepson, John Hall, never
+failed in respectful and affectionate messages to him and sedately
+appropriate gifts, such as &quot;men's knives.&quot; Governor Symonds had
+two sons and six married daughters by two--or three--previous marriages. He
+died in Boston in 1678.</p>
+
+<p>A triangle of mutual helpfulness and prosperity was formed by England,
+New England, and the Barbadoes in this widespread relationship of the Hall
+family in matrimony, business, kin, and friendly allies. England sent to
+the Barbadoes English trading-stuffs and judiciously cheap and attractive
+trinkets. The islands sent to New England sugar and molasses, and also the
+young children born in the islands, to be educated in Boston schools ere
+they went to English universities, or were presented in the English court
+and London society. There was one school in Boston established expressly
+for the children of the Barbadoes planters. You may read in a later chapter
+upon the dress of old-time children of some naughty grandchildren of John
+Hall who were sent to this Boston school and to the care of another
+oft-married grandmother. In this triangle, New England returned to the
+Barbadoes non-perishable and most lucrative rum and salt codfish--codfish
+for the many fast-days of the Roman Catholic Church; New England rum to
+exchange with profit for slaves, coffee, and sugar. The Barbadoes and New
+England sent good, solid Spanish coin to England, both for investment and
+domestic purchases; and England sent to New England what is of value to us
+in this book--the latest fashions.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="A_Puritan_Dame."></a>
+<img src="images\166.png" alt="A Puritan Dame.">
+<H4>A Puritan Dame.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>When I ponder on the conditions of life in Ipswich at the time these
+letters were written--the few good houses, the small amount of tilled land,
+the entire lack of all the elegancies of social life; when I think upon the
+proximity and ferocity of the Indian tribes and the ever present terror of
+their invasion; when I picture the gloom, the dread, the oppression of the
+vast, close-lying, primeval forest,--then the rich articles of dress and
+elaborate explanation of the modes despatched by John Hall to his mother
+would seem more than incongruous, they would be ridiculous, did I not know
+what a factor dress was in public life in that day.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Madam Symonds dreaded deeply lest The Plague be sent to her in her
+fine garments from London; and her dutiful son wrote her to have no fear,
+that he bought her finery himself, in safe shops, from reliable dealers,
+and kept all for a month in his own home where none had been infected. But
+she must have had fear of disaster and death more intimately menacing to
+her home than was The Plague.</p>
+
+<p>She had seen the career of genial Master Rowlandson, a neighbor's son,
+full of naughtiness, fun, and life. While an undergraduate at Harvard
+College he had written in doggerel what was termed pompously a
+&quot;scandalous libell,&quot; and he had pinned it on the door of Ipswich
+Meeting-house, along with the tax-collector's and road-mender's notices and
+the announcement of intending marriages, and the grinning wolves' heads
+brought for reward. For this prank he had been soundly whipped by the
+college president on the College Green; but it did not prevent his
+graduating with honor at the head of his class. He was valedictorian,
+class-orator, class-poet--in fact, I may say that he had full honors. (I
+have to add also that in his case honors were easy; for his class, of the
+year 1652, had but one graduate, himself.) The gay, mischievous boy had
+become a faithful, zealous, noble preacher to the Puritan church in the
+neighboring town of Lancaster; and in one cruel night, in 1676, his home
+was destroyed, the whole town made desolate, his parishioners slaughtered,
+and his wife, Esther Rowlandson, carried off by the savage red-men, from
+whom she was bravely rescued by my far-off grandfather, John Hoar. Read the
+thrilling story of her &quot;captivation&quot; and rescue, and then think
+of Madam Symonds's finery in her gilt trunk in the near-by town. For four
+years the valley of the Nashua--blood-stained, fire-blackened--lay desolate
+and unsettled before Madam Symonds's eyes; then settlers slowly crept in.
+But for fifty years Ipswich was not deemed a safe home nor free from dread
+of cruel Indians; &quot;Lovewell's War&quot; dragged on in 1726. But
+mantuas and masks, whisks and drolls, were just as eagerly sought by the
+governor's wife as if Esther Rowlandson's capture had been a dream.</p>
+
+<p>There was a soured, abusive, intolerant old fellow in New England in the
+year 1700, a &quot;vituperative epithetizer,&quot; ready to throw mud on
+everything around him (though not working--to my knowledge--in cleaning out
+any mud-holes). He was not abusive because he was a Puritan, but because
+&quot;it was his nature to.&quot; He styled himself a &quot;Simple
+Cobbler,&quot; and he announced himself &quot;willing to Mend his Native
+Country, lamentably tattered both in the upper Leather and in the Sole,
+with all the Honest Stitches he can take,&quot; but he took out his aid in
+loud hammering of his lapstone and noisy protesting against all other
+footwear than his own. I fancy he thought himself another Stubbes. I know
+of no whole soles he set, nor any holes he mended, and his
+&quot;Simple&quot; ideas are so involved in expression, in such twisted
+sentences, and with such &quot;strange Ink-pot termes&quot; and so many
+Latin quotations and derivatives, that I doubt if many sensible folk knew
+what he meant, even in his own day. His words have none of the directness,
+the force, the interest that have the writings of old Stubbes. Such words
+as nugiperous, perquisquilian, ill-shapen-shotten, nudistertian, futulous,
+overturcased, quaematry, surquedryes, prodromie, would seem to apply ill to
+woman's attire; they really fall wide of the mark if intended as weapons,
+but it was to such vain dames as the governor's wife that the Simple
+Cobbler applied them. Some of the ministers of the colony, terrified by the
+Indian outbreaks, gloomily held the vanity and extravagance of dames and
+goodwives as responsible for them all. Others, with broader minds, could
+discern that both the open and the subtle influence of good clothes was
+needed in the new community. They gave an air of cheerfulness, of
+substance, of stability, which is of importance in any new venture. For the
+governor's wife to dress richly and in the best London modes added lustre
+to the governor's office. And when the excitement had quieted and the
+sullen Indian sachem and his tawny braves stalked through the little town
+in their gay, barbaric trappings, they were sensible that Madam Symonds's
+embroidered satin manteau was rich and costly, even if they did not know
+what we know, that it was the top of the mode.</p>
+
+<p>Governor Symonds's home in Ipswich was on the ground where the old
+seminary building now stands; but the happy married pair spent much of the
+time at his farm-house on Argilla Farm, on Heart-Break Hill, by
+Labor-in-vain Creek, which was also in Ipswich County. This lonely farm, so
+sad in name, was the only dwelling-place in that region; it was so remote
+that when Indian assault was daily feared, the general court voted to
+station there a guard of soldiers at public expense because the governor
+was &quot;so much in the country's service.&quot; He says distinctly,
+however, concerning the bargain in the purchase of Argilla Farm, that his
+wife was well content with it.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Penelope_Winslow."></a>
+<img src="images\171.png" alt="Penelope Winslow.">
+<H4>Penelope Winslow.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>There were also intimate personal considerations which would apparently
+render so luxurious a wardrobe unnecessary and unsuitable. The age and
+health of the wearer might generally be held to be sufficient reason for
+indifference to such costly, delicate, and gay finery. When Madam Symonds
+was fifty-eight years old, in 1674, her son wrote, &quot;Oh, Good Mother,
+grieved am I to learn that Craziness creeps upon you, yet am I glad that
+you have Faith to look beyond this Life.&quot; Craziness had originally no
+meaning of infirmity of mind; it meant feebleness, weakness of body. Her
+letters evidently informed him of failing health, but even that did not
+hinder the export of London finery.</p>
+
+<p>Governor Symonds's estate at his death was under &pound;3000, and
+Argilla Farm was valued only at &pound;150; yet Madam had a
+&quot;Manto&quot; which is marked distinctly in her son's own handwriting
+as costing &pound;30. She had money of her own, and estates in England, of
+which John Hall kept an account, and with the income of which he made these
+purchases. This manteau was of flowered satin, and had silver clasps and a
+rich pair of embroidered satin sleeves to wear with it; it was evidently
+like a sleeveless cape. We must always remember that seventeenth-century
+accounts must be multiplied by five to give twentieth-century values. Even
+this valuation is inadequate. Therefore the &pound;30 paid for the manteau
+would to-day be &pound;150; $800 would nearly represent the original value.
+As it was sent in early autumn it was evidently a winter garment, and it
+must have been furred with sable to be so costly.</p>
+
+<p>In the early inventories of all the colonies &quot;a pair of
+sleeves&quot; is a frequent item, and to my delight--when so seldom color
+is given--I have more than once a pair of green sleeves.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Thy gown was of the grassy green<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thy sleeves of satin hanging by,<br>
+&nbsp;Which made thee be our harvest queen<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And yet thou wouldst not love me.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Green sleeves was all my joy,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Green sleeves was my delight,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Green sleeves was my Heart of Gold,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And who but Lady Green-sleeves!&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Let me recount some of &quot;My Good Son's labors of love and pride in
+London shops&quot; for his vain old mother. She had written in the year
+1675 for lawn whisks, but he is quick to respond that she has made a very
+countrified mistake.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Lawn whisks is not now worn either by Gentil or simple,
+young or old. Instead whereof I have bought a shape and ruffles, what is
+now the ware of the bravest as well as the young ones. Such as goe not
+with naked neckes, wear a black whisk over it. Therefore I have not only
+bought a plain one you sent for, but also a Lustre one, such as are most
+in fashion.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>John Hall's &quot;lustre for whisks&quot; was of course lustring, or
+lutestring, a soft half-lustred pure silk fabric which was worn constantly
+for two centuries. He sent his mother many yards of it for her wear.</p>
+
+<p>We have ample proof that these black whisks were in general wear in
+England. In an account-book of Sarah Fell of Swarthmoor Hall in 1673, are
+these items: &quot;a black alamode whiske for Sister Rachel; a round whiske
+for Susanna; a little black whiske for myself.&quot; This English Quaker
+sends also a colored stuff manteo to her sister; scores of English
+inventories of women's wardrobes contain precisely similar items to those
+bought by Son Hall. And it is a tribute to the devotion of American women
+to the rigid laws of fashion, even in that early day, to find that all
+whisks, save black whisks and lustring ones, disappear at this date from
+colonial inventories of effects.</p>
+
+<p>She wrote to him for a &quot;side of plum colored leather&quot; for her
+shoes. This was a matter of much concern to him, not at all because this
+leather was a bit gay or extravagant, or frail wear for an elderly
+grandmother, but because it was not the very latest thing in leather. He
+writes anxiously:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Secondly you sent for Damson-Coloured Spanish Leather for
+Womans Shoes. But there is noe Spanish Leather of that Colour; and Turkey
+Leather is coloured on the grain side only, both of which are out of use
+for Women's Shoes. Therefore I bought a Skin of Leather that is all the
+mode for Women's Shoes. All that I fear is, that it is too thick. But my
+Coz. Eppes told me yt such thin ones as are here generally used, would by
+rain and snow in N. England presently be rendered of noe service and
+therefore persuaded me to send this, which is stronger than ordinary. And
+if the Shoemaker fit it well, may not be uneasy.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Perhaps his anxious offices and advices in regard to fans show more
+curiously than other quotations, the insistent attitude of the New England
+mind in regard to the latest fashions. I cannot to-day conceive why any
+woman, young or old, could have been at all concerned in Ipswich in 1675 as
+to which sort of fan she carried, or what was carried in London, yet good
+Son John writes:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;As to the feathered fan, I should also have found it in
+my heart to let it alone, because none but very grave persons (and of them
+very few) use it. That now 'tis grown almost as obsolete as Russets and
+more rare to be seen than a yellow Hood. But the Thing being Civil and not
+very dear, Remembering that in the years 64 and 68, if I mistake not, you
+had Two Fans sent, I have bought one now on purpose for you, and I hope
+you will be pleased.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Evidently the screen-fan of Pocahontas's day was no longer a novelty.
+His mother had had far more fans that he remembered. In 1664 two
+&quot;Tortis shell fanns&quot; had gone across seas; one had cost five
+shillings, the other ten shillings. The following year came a black feather
+fan with silver handle, and two tortoise-shell fans; in 1666 two more
+tortoise-shell fans; in 1688 another feather fan, and so on. These many
+fans may have been disposed of as gifts to others, but the entire trend of
+the son's letters, as well as his express directions, would show that all
+these articles were for his mother's personal use. When finery was sent for
+madam's daughter, it was so specified; in 1675, when the daughter became a
+bride, Brother John sent her her wedding gloves, ever a gift of sentiment.
+A pair of wedding gloves of that date lies now before me. They are mitts
+rather than gloves, being fingerless. They are of white kid, and are
+twenty-two inches long. They are very wide at the top, and have three
+drawing-strings with gilt tassels; these are run in welts about two inches
+apart, and were evidently drawn into puffs above the elbow when worn. A
+full edging of white Swiss lace and a pretty design of dots made in gold
+thread on the back of the hand, form altogether a very costly, elegant, and
+decorative article of dress. I should fancy they cost several pounds. Men's
+gloves were equally rich. Here are the gold-fringed gloves of Governor
+Leverett worn in 1640.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Gold-fringed_Gloves_of_Governor_Leverett."></a>
+<img src="images\176.png" alt="Gold-fringed Gloves of Governor Leverett.">
+<H4>Gold-fringed Gloves of Governor Leverett.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Of course the only head-gear of Madam Symonds for outdoor wear was a
+hood. Hats were falling in disfavor. I shall tell in a special chapter of
+the dominance at this date and the importance of the French hood. Its heavy
+black folds are shown in the portraits of Rebecca Rawson (<a
+href="#Rebecca_Rawson.">here</a>), of Madam Simeon Stoddard (<a
+href="#Mrs._Simeon_Stoddard.">here</a>), and on other heads in this book.
+Such a hood probably covered Madam Symonds's head heavily and fully,
+whene'er she walked abroad; certainly it did when she rode a pillion-back.
+She had other fashionable hoods--all the fashionable hoods, in fact, that
+were worn in England at that time; hoods of lustring, of tiffany, of
+&quot;bird's-eye&quot;--precisely the same as had Madam Pepys, and one of
+spotted gauze, the last a pretty vanity for summer wear. We may remember,
+in fact, that Madam Symonds was a contemporary--across-seas--of Madam
+Pepys, and wore the same garments; only she apparently had richer and more
+varied garments than did that beautiful young woman whose husband was in
+the immediate employ of the king.</p>
+
+<p>Arthur Abbott was the agent in Boston through whom this London finery
+and flummery was delivered to Madam Symonds in safety; and it is an amusing
+side-light upon social life in the colony to know that in 1675 Abbott's
+wife was &quot;presented before the court&quot; for wearing a silk hood
+above her station, and her husband paid the fine. Knowing womankind, and
+knowing the skill and cunning in needlework of women of that day, I cannot
+resist building up a little imaginative story around this
+&quot;presentment&quot; and fine. I believe that the pretty young woman
+could not put aside the fascination of all the beautiful London hoods
+consigned to her husband for the old lady at Ipswich; I suspect she tried
+all the finery on, and that she copied one hood for herself so successfully
+and with such telling effect that its air of high fashion at once caught
+the eye and met with the reproof of the severe Boston magistrates. She was
+the last woman, I believe, to be fined under the colonial sumptuary laws of
+Massachusetts.</p>
+
+<p>The colors of Madam Symonds's garments were seldom given, but I doubt
+that they were &quot;sad-coloured&quot; or &quot;grave of colour&quot; as
+we find Governor Winthrop's orders for his wife. One lustring hood was
+brown; and frequently green ribbons were sent; also many yards of scarlet
+and pink gauze, which seem the very essence of juvenility. Her son writes a
+list of gifts to her and the members of her family from his own
+people:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;A light violet-colored Petti-Coat is my wife's token to
+you. The Petti-Coat was bought for my wife's mother and scarcely worn.
+This my wife humbly presents to you, requesting your acceptance of it,
+for your own wearing, as being Grave and suitable for a Person of
+Quality.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Even a half-worn petticoat was a considerable gift; for petticoats were
+both costly and of infinite needlework. Even the wealthiest folk esteemed a
+gift of partly worn clothing, when materials were so rich. Letters of deep
+gratitude were sent in thanks.</p>
+
+<p>The variety of stuffs used in them was great. Some of these are wholly
+obsolete; even the meaning of their names is lost. In an inventory of 1644,
+of a citizen of Plymouth there was, for instance, &quot;a petticoate of
+phillip &amp; cheny&quot; worth &pound;1. Much of the value of these
+petticoats was in the handwork bestowed upon them; they were both
+embroidered and elaborately quilted. About 1730, in the Van Cortlandt
+family, a woman was paid at one time &pound;2 5s. for quilting, a large
+amount for that day. Often we find items of fifteen or twenty shillings for
+quilting a petticoat.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Embroidered_Petticoat_Band."></a>
+<img src="images\179.png" alt="Embroidered Petticoat Band.">
+<H4>Embroidered Petticoat Band.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The handsomest petticoats were of quilted silk or satin. No pattern was
+so elaborate, no amount of work so large, that it could dismay the heart or
+tire the fingers of an eighteenth-century needlewoman. One yellow satin
+petticoat has a lining of stout linen. These are quilted together in an
+exquisite irregular design of interlacing ribbons, slender vines, and long,
+narrow leaves, all stuffed with white cord. Though the general effect of
+this pattern is very regular, an examination shows it is not a set design,
+but must have been drawn as well as worked by the maker. Another petticoat
+has a curious design made with two shades of blue silk cord sewed on in a
+pattern. Another of infinite work has a design outlined in tiny rolls of
+satin.</p>
+
+<p>These petticoats had many flat trimmings; laces of silver, gold, or silk
+thread were used, galloons and orrice. Tufts of fringed silk were dotted in
+clusters and made into fly-fringe. Bridget Neal, writing in 1685 to her
+sister, says:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I am told las is yused on petit-coats. Three fringes is
+much yused, but they are not set on the petcot strait, but in waves; it
+does not look well, unless all the fringes yused that fashion is the plane
+twisted fring not very deep. I hear some has nine fringes sett in this
+fashion.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Anxiety to please his honored mother, and desire that she should be
+dressed in the top of the mode, show in every letter of John Hall:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I bought your muffs of my Coz. Jno. Rolfe who tells me
+they are worth more money than I gave for them. You desired yours Modish
+yet Long; but here with us they are now much shorter. These were made a
+Purpose for you. As to yr Silk Flowered Manto, I hope it may please you;
+Tis not the Mode to lyne you now at all; but if you like to have it soe,
+any silke will serve, and may be done at yr
+pleasure.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>In 1663 Pepys notes (with his customary delight at a new fashion,
+mingled with fear that thereby he might be led into more expense) that
+ladies at the play put on &quot;vizards which hid the whole face, and had
+become a great fashion; and <i>so</i> to the Exchange to buy a Vizard for
+my wife.&quot; Soon he added a French mask, which led to some unpleasant
+encounters for Mrs. Pepys with dissolute courtiers on the street. The plays
+in London were then so bold and so bad that we cannot wonder at the masks
+of the play-goers. The masks concealed constant blushes; but wearers and
+hearers did not stay away, for neither eyes nor ears were covered by the
+mask. Busino tells of a woman at the theatre all in yellow and scarlet,
+with two masks and three pairs of gloves, worn one pair over the other.
+Suddenly out came disappointing Queen Anne with her royal command that the
+plays be refined and reformed, and then masks were abandoned.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Blue_Brocade_Gown_and_Quilted_Satin_Petticoat."></a>
+<img src="images\182.png" alt="Blue Brocade Gown and Quilted Satin Petticoat.">
+<H4>Blue Brocade Gown and Quilted Satin Petticoat.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Masks were in those years in constant wear in the French court and
+society, as a protection to the complexion when walking or riding.
+Sometimes plain glass was fitted in the eye-holes. French masks had wires
+which fastened behind the ears, or a mouthpiece of silver; or they had an
+ingenious and simple stay in the form of two strings at the corners of the
+mouth-opening of the mask. These strings ended in a silver button or glass
+bead. With a bead held firmly in either corner of her mouth, the
+mask-wearer could talk. These vizards are seen in old English wood-cuts,
+often hanging by the side, fastened to the belt with a small cord or chain.
+They brought forth the bitter denunciations of the old Puritan Stubbes. He
+writes in his <i>Anatomie of Abuses</i>:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;When they vse to ride abroad, they haue visors made of
+ueluet (or in my iudgment they may rather be called inuisories) wherewith
+they couer all their faces, hauing holes made in them agaynst their eies,
+whereout they looke. So that if a man that knew not their guise before,
+shoulde chaunce to meete one of theme, he would thinke he mette a monster
+or a deuill; for face he can see none, but two broad holes against their
+eyes with glasses in them.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Masks were certainly worn to a considerable extent in America. As early
+as 1645, masks were forbidden in Plymouth, Massachusetts, &quot;for
+improper purposes.&quot; When you think of the Plymouth of that year, its
+few houses and inhabitants, its desperate struggle to hold its place at all
+as a community, the narrow means of its citizens, the comparatively scant
+wardrobes of the wives and daughters, this restriction as to mask-wearing
+seems a grim jest. They were for sale in Salem and Boston, black velvet
+masks worth two shillings each; but these towns were more flourishing than
+Plymouth. And New York dames had them, and the planters' wives of Virginia
+and South Carolina.</p>
+
+<p>I suppose Madam Symonds wore her mask when she mounted on a pillion
+behind some strong young lad, and rode out to Argilla Farm.</p>
+
+<p>A few years later than the dates when Madam Symonds was ordering these
+fashionable articles of dress from England a rhyming catalogue of a lady's
+toilet was written by John Evelyn and entitled, <i>Mundus Muliebris or a
+Voyage to Mary-Land</i>; it might be a list of Madam Symonds's wardrobe.
+Some of the lines run:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;One gown of rich black silk, which odd is<br>
+Without one coloured embroidered boddice.<br>
+Three manteaux, nor can Madam less<br>
+Provision have for due undress.<br>
+Of under-boddice three neat pair<br>
+Embroidered, and of shoes as fair;<br>
+Short under petticoats, pure fine,<br>
+Some of Japan stuff, some of Chine,<br>
+With knee-high galoon bottomed;<br>
+Another quilted white and red,<br>
+With a broad Flanders lace below.<br>
+Three night gowns of rich Indian stuff;<br>
+Four cushion-cloths are scarce enough.<br>
+A manteau girdle, ruby buckle,<br>
+And brilliant diamond ring for knuckle.<br>
+Fans painted and perfumed three;<br>
+Three muffs of ermine, sable, grey.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Other articles of personal and household comfort were gathered in London
+shops by her dutiful son and sent to Madam Symonds. The list is full of
+interest, and helps to fill out the picture of daily life. He despatched to
+her cloves, nutmegs, spices, eringo roots, &quot;coronation&quot; and
+stock-gilly-flower seed, &quot;colly flower seed,&quot; hearth brushes
+(these came every year), silver whistles and several pomanders and
+pomander-beads, bouquet-glasses (which could hardly have been the bosom
+bottles which were worn later), necklaces, amber beads, many and varied
+pins, needles, silk lacings, kid gloves, silver ink-boxes, sealing-wax,
+gilt trunks, fancy boxes, painted desks, tape, ferret, bobbin, bone lace,
+calico, gimp, many yards of ducape, lustring, persian, and other silk
+stuffs--all these items of transport show the son's devoted selection of
+the articles his mother wished. Gowns seem never to have been sent, but
+manteaus, mantles, and &quot;ferrandine&quot; cloaks appear frequently. Of
+course there are some articles which cannot be positively described to-day,
+such as the &quot;shape, with ruffles&quot; and &quot;double pleated
+drolls&quot; and &quot;lace drolls&quot; which appear several times on the
+lists. These &quot;drolls&quot; were, I believe, the &quot;drowlas&quot; of
+Madame de Lange, in New Amsterdam. &quot;Men's knives&quot; occasionally
+were sent, and &quot;women's knives&quot; many times. These latter had
+hafts of ivory, agate, and &quot;Ellotheropian.&quot; This Ellotheropian or
+Alleteropeain or Illyteropian stone has been ever a great puzzle to me
+until in another letter I chanced to find the spelling Hellotyropian; then
+I knew the real word was the Heliotropium of the ancients, our blood-stone.
+It was a favorite stone of the day not only for those fancy-handled knives,
+but for seals, finger-rings and other forms of ornament.</p>
+
+<p>A few books were on the list,--a Greek Lexicon ordered as a gift for a
+student; a very costly Bible, bound in velvet, with silver clasps, the
+expense of which was carefully detailed down to the Indian silk for the
+inner-end leaves; &quot;<i>Dod on Commandments</i>--my Ant Jane said you
+had a fancie for it, and I have bound it in green plush for you.&quot;
+Fancy any one having a fancy for Dod on anything! and fancy Dod in green
+plush covers!</p> <br>
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="#V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS</h3>
+<blockquote><i>This day the King began to put on his vest; and I did see
+several persons of the House of Lords and Commons too, great courtiers who
+are in it, being a long cassock close to the body, of long cloth, pinked
+with white silk under it, and a coat over it, and the legs ruffled with
+white ribbon like a pigeon's leg; and upon the whole I wish the King may
+keep it, for it is a very fine and handsome garment.</i><br> <br>
+--&quot;Diary,&quot; SAMUEL PEPYS, October 8, 1666.<br> <br><br>
+<i>Fashion then was counted a disease and horses died of it.</i><br> <br>
+--&quot;The Gulls Hornbook,&quot; ANDREW DEKKER, 1609.<br></blockquote>
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>THE EVOLUTION OF COATS AND WAISTCOATS</h3>
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\initialb.png" align=left
+alt="B">oth word and garment--coat--are of curious interest, one as a
+philological study, the other as an evolution. A singular transfer of
+meaning from cot or cote, a house and shelter, to the word coat, used for a
+garment, is duplicated in some degree in chasuble, casule, and cassock; the
+words body, and bodice; and corse or corpse, and corselet and corset. The
+word coat, meaning a garment for men for covering the upper part of the
+body, has been in use for centuries; but of very changeable and confusing
+usage, for it also constantly meant petticoat. The garment itself was a
+puzzle, for many years; most bewildering of all the attire which was worn
+by the first colonists was the elusive, coatlike over-garment called in
+shipping-lists, tailors' orders, household inventories, and other legal and
+domestic records a doublet, a jerkin, a jacket, a cassock, a paltock, a
+coat, a horseman's coat, an upper-coat, and a buff-coat. All these garments
+resembled each other; all closed with a single row of buttons or points or
+hooks and eyes. There was not a double-breasted coat in the
+<i>Mayflower</i>, nor on any man in any of the colonies for many years;
+they hadn't been invented. Let me attempt to define these several coatlike
+garments.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="A_Plain_Jerkin."></a>
+<img src="images\188.png" alt="A Plain Jerkin.">
+<H4>A Plain Jerkin.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In 1697 a jerkin was described by Randle Holme as &quot;a kind of jacket
+or upper doublet, with four skirts or laps.&quot; These laps were made by
+slits up from the hem to the belt-line, and varied in number, but four on
+each side was a usual number, or there might be a slit up the back, and one
+on each hip, which would afford four laps in all. Mr. Knight, in his notes
+on Shakespere's use of the word, conjectures that the jerkin was generally
+worn over the doublet; but one guess is as good as another, and I guess it
+was not. I agree, however, with his surmise that the two garments were
+constantly confounded; in truth it is not a surmise, it is a fact.
+Shakespere expressed the situation when he said in <i>The Two Gentlemen of
+Verona</i>, &quot;My jerkin is a doublet;&quot; and I fancy there was
+slight difference in the garments, save that in the beginning the doublet
+was always of two thicknesses, as its name indicates; and it was
+wadded.</p>
+
+<p>As the jerkin was often minutely slashed, it could scarcely have been
+wadded; though it may have had a lining for special display through the
+slashes.</p>
+
+<p>A jerkin had no skirts in our modern sense of the word,--a piece set on
+at the waist-line,--nor could it on that account be what we term a coat,
+nor was it a coat, nor was it what the colonists deemed a coat.</p>
+
+<p>The old Dutch word is <i>jurkken</i>, and it was often thus spelt, which
+has led some to deem it a Dutch name and article of dress. But then it was
+also spelt <i>irkin, ircken, jorken, jorgen, erkyn</i>, and
+<i>ergoin</i>--which are not Dutch nor any other tongue. Indeed, under the
+name <i>ergoin</i> I wonder that we recognize it or that it knew itself. A
+jerkin was often of leather like a buff-coat, but not always so.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Richard Saltonstall wears a buff-coat, with handsome sword-belt, or
+trooping-belt, and rich gloves. His portrait is shown <a
+href="#Sir_Richard_Saltonstall.">here</a>. As we look at his fine
+countenance we think of Hawthorne's words:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;What dignitary is this crossing to greet the Governor. A
+stately personage in velvet cloak--with ample beard and a gold band across
+his breast. He has the authoritative port of one who has filled the
+highest civic position in the first of cities. Of all men in the world, we
+should least expect to meet the Lord Mayor of London--as Sir Richard
+Saltonstall has been once and again--in a forest-bordered settlement in
+the western wilderness.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>A fine buff-coat and a buff-coat sleeve are given in the chapter upon
+Armor.</p>
+
+<p>All the early colonial inventories of wearing-apparel contain doublets.
+Richard Sawyer died in 1648 in Windsor, Connecticut; he was a plain average
+&quot;Goodman Citizen.&quot; A part of his apparel was thus
+inventoried:--</p>
+
+<table>
+<tr><td></td><td align=right>&pound;</td><td align=right> s.</td><td align=right>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 musck-colour'd cloth doublitt &amp; breeches</td><td align=right>1</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 bucks leather doublitt</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>12</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 calves leather doublitt</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 liver-colour'd doublitt &amp; jacket &amp; breeches</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>7</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 haire-colour'd doublitt &amp; jackett &amp; breeches </td><td align=right></td><td align=right>5</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 paire canvas drawers</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>1</td><td align=right>6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 olde coate. 1 paire old gray breeches</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>5</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 stuffe jackett</td><td align=right></td><td align=right>2</td><td align=right>6</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>William Kempe of &quot;Duxborrow,&quot; a settler of importance, died in
+1641. His wardrobe was more varied, and ample and rich. He left two
+buff-coats and leather doublets with silver buttons; cloth doublets, three
+horsemen's coats, &quot;frize jerkines,&quot; three cassocks, two
+cloaks.</p>
+
+<p>Of course we turn to Stubbes to see what he can say for or against
+doublets. His outcry here is against their size; and those who know the
+&quot;great pease-cod-bellied doublets&quot; of Elizabeth's day will agree
+with him that they look as if a man were wholly gone to &quot;gourmandice
+and gluttonie.&quot;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="A_Doublet."></a>
+<img src="images\191.png" alt="A Doublet.">
+<H4>A Doublet.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Stubbes has a very good list of coats and jerkins in which he gives
+incidentally an excellent description by which we may know a
+mandillion:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Their coates and jerkins as they be diuers in colours so
+be they diuers in fashions; for some be made with collars, some without,
+some close to the body, some loose, which they call mandilians, couering
+the whole body down to the thigh, like bags or sacks, that were drawne
+ouer them, hiding the dimensions and lineaments of the body. Some are
+buttoned down the breast, some vnder the arme, and some down the backe,
+some with flaps over the brest, some without, some with great sleeves,
+some with small, some with none at all, some pleated and crested behind
+and curiously gathered and some not.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>An old satirical print, dated 1644, gives drawings of men of all the new
+varieties of religious belief and practices which &quot;pestered
+Christians&quot; at the beginning of the century. With the exception of the
+Adamite, whose garb is that of Adam in the Garden of Eden, all ten wear
+doublets. These vary slightly, much less than in Stubbes's list of jerkins.
+One is open up the back with buttons and button-loops. Another has the
+&quot;four laps on a side,&quot; showing it is a jerkin. Another is opened
+on the hips; one is slit at back and hips. All save one from neck to hem
+are buttoned in front with a single row of buttons, with no lapells,
+collar, or cuffs, and no &quot;flaps,&quot; no ornaments or trimming. A
+linen shirt-cuff and a plain band finish sleeves and neck of all save the
+Arminian, who wears a small ruff. Not one of these doublets is a graceful
+or an elegant garment. All are shapeless and over-plain; and have none of
+the French smartness that came from the spreading coat-skirts of men's
+later wear.</p>
+
+<p>The welts or wings named in the early sumptuary laws were the pieces of
+cloth set at the shoulder over the arm-hole where body and sleeves meet.
+The welt was at first a sort of epaulet, but grew longer and often set out,
+thus deserving its title of wings.</p>
+
+<p>A dress of the times is thus described:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;His doublet was of a strange cut, the collar of it was up
+so high and sharp as it would cut his throat. His wings according to the
+fashion now were as little and diminutive as a Puritan's
+ruff.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>A note to this says that &quot;wings were lateral projections, extending
+from each shoulder&quot;--a good round sentence that by itself really means
+nothing. Ben Jonson calls them &quot;puff-wings.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There is one positive rule in the shape of doublets; they were always
+welted at the arm-hole. Possibly the sleeves were sometimes sewn in, but
+even then there was always a cap, a welt or a hanging sleeve or some
+edging. In the illustrations of the <i>Roxburghe Ballads</i> there is not a
+doublet or jerkin on man, woman, or child but is thus welted. Some trimming
+around the arm-hole was a law. This lasted until the coat was wholly
+evolved. This had sleeves, and the shoulder-welt vanished.</p>
+
+<p>These welts were often turreted or cut in squares. You will note this
+turreted shoulder in some form on nearly all the doublets given in the
+portraits displayed in this book--both on men and women. For doublets were
+also worn by women. Stubbes says, &quot;Though this be a kind of attire
+proper only to a man, yet they blush not to wear it.&quot; The old print of
+the infamous Mrs. Turner given <a
+href="#A_Woman's_Doublet._Mrs._Anne_Turner.">here</a> shows her in a
+doublet.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="JAMES_DUKE_OF_YORK"></a>
+<img src="images\194.png" alt="James, Duke of York.">
+<H4>James, Duke of York.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Another author complains:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;If Men get up French standing collars Women will have the
+French standing collar too: if Dublets with little thick skirts, so short
+none are able to sit upon them, women's foreparts are thick skirted
+too.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Children also had doublets and this same shoulder-cap at the arm-hole;
+their little doublets were made precisely like those of their parents. Look
+at the childish portrait of Lady Arabella Stuart, the portrait with the
+doll. Her fat little figure is squeezed in a doublet which has turreted
+welts like those worn by Anne Boleyn and by Pocahontas (shown <a
+href="#Pocahontas.">here</a>). Often a button was set between each square
+of the welt, and the sleeve loops or points could be tied to these buttons
+and thus hold up the detached undersleeves. The portrait of Sir Richard
+Saltonstall vaguely shows these buttons. Nearly all these garments-jerkins,
+jackets, doublets, buff-coats, paltocks, were sleeveless, especially when
+worn as the uppermost or outer garment. Holinshed tells of &quot;doublets
+full of jagges and cuts and sleeves of sundry colours.&quot; These welts
+were &quot;embroidered, indented, waved, furred, chisel-punched,
+dagged,&quot; as well as turreted. On one sleeve the turreted welt varied,
+the middle square or turret was long, the others each two inches shorter.
+Thus the sleeve-welt had a &quot;crow-step&quot; shape. A charming doublet
+sleeve of Elizabeth's day displayed a short hanging sleeve that was scarce
+more than a hanging welt. This was edged around with crystal balls or
+buttons. Other welts were scalloped, with an eyelet-hole in each scallop,
+like the edge of old ladies' flannel petticoats. Othersome welts were a
+round stuffed roll. This roll also had its day around the petticoat edge,
+as may be seen in the petticoat of the child Henry Gibbes. This roll still
+appears on Japanese kimonos.</p>
+
+<p>We are constantly finding complaints of the unsuitably ambitious attire
+of laboring folk in such sentences as this:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The plowman, in times past content in russet, must
+now-a-daies have his doublett of the fashion with wide cuts; his fine
+garters of Granada, to meet his Sis on Sunday. The fair one in russet
+frock and mockaldo sleeves now sells a cow against Easter to buy her
+silken gear.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Velvet jerkins and damask doublets were for men of dignity and estate.
+Governor Winthrop had two tufted velvet jerkins.</p>
+
+<p>Jerkins and doublets varied much in shape and detail:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;These doublets were this day short-waisted, anon,
+long-bellied; by-and-by-after great-buttoned, straight-after plain-laced,
+or else your buttons as strange for smallness as were before for
+bigness.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="An_Embroidered_Jerkin."></a>
+<img src="images\197.png" alt="An Embroidered Jerkin.">
+<H4>An Embroidered Jerkin.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In Charles II's time at the May-pole dances still appear the old, welted
+doublets. Jack may have worn Cicily's doublet, and Peg may have borrowed
+Will's for all the difference that can be seen. The man's doublet did not
+ever have long, hanging sleeves, however, in the seventeenth century, while
+women wore such sleeves.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes the sleeves were very large, as in the Bowdoin portrait (<a
+href="#A_Bowdoin_portrait.">here</a>). The great puffs were held out by
+whalebones and rolls of cotton, and &quot;tiring-sleeves&quot; of wires, a
+fashion which has obtained for women at least seven times in the history of
+English costume. Gosson describes the vast sleeves of English doublets
+thus;--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;This Cloth of Price all cut in ragges,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;These monstrous bones that compass arms,<br>
+These buttons, pinches, fringes, jagges,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;With them he (the Devil) weaveth woeful harms.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>We have seen how bitterly the slashing of good cloth exercised good men.
+The &quot;cutting in rags&quot; was slashing.</p>
+
+<p>A favorite pattern of slashing is in small, narrow slits as shown in the
+portrait <a href="#James_Douglas_(Earl_of_Morton).">here</a> of James
+Douglas. These jerkins are of leather, and the slashes are of course
+ornamental, and are also for health and comfort, as those know who wear
+chamois jackets with perforated holes throughout them, or slashes if we
+choose to call them so. They permit a circulation of the skin and a natural
+condition. These jerkins are slashed in curious little cuts, &quot;carved
+of very good intail,&quot; as was said of King Henry's jerkin, which means,
+in modern English, cut in very good designs. And I presume, being of buff
+leather, the slashes were simply cut, not overcast or embroidered as were
+some wool stuffs.</p>
+
+<p>The guard was literally a guard to the seam, a strip of galloon, silk,
+lace, velvet, put on over the seam to protect and strengthen it.</p>
+
+<p>The large openings or slashes were called panes. Fynes Mayson says,
+&quot;Lord Mountjoy wore jerkins and round hose with laced panes of russet
+cloth.&quot; The Swiss dress was painted by Coryat as doublet and hose of
+panes intermingled of red and yellow, trimmed with long puffs of blue and
+yellow rising up between the panes. It was necessarily a costly dress. Of
+course this is the same word with the same meaning as when used in the term
+a &quot;pane of glass.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The word &quot;pinches&quot; refers to an elaborate pleating which was
+worn for years; it lingered in America till 1750, and we have revived it in
+what we term &quot;accordion pleating.&quot; The seventeenth-century
+pinching was usually applied to lawn or some washable stuff; and there must
+have been a pinching, a goffering machine by which the pinching was done to
+the washed garment by means of a heated iron.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="John_Lilburne."></a>
+<img src="images\199.png" alt="John Lilburne.">
+<H4>John Lilburne.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Pinched sleeves, pinched partlets, pinched shirts, pinched wimples,
+pinched ruffs, are often referred to, all washable garments. The good wife
+of Bath wore a wimple which was &quot;y-pinched full seemly.&quot; Henry
+VIII wore a pinched habit-shirt of finest lawn, and his fine, healthy skin
+glowed pink through the folds of the lawn after his hearty exercise at
+tennis and all kinds of athletic sports, for which he had thrown off his
+doublet. We are taught to deem him &quot;a spot of grease and blood on
+England's page.&quot; There was more muscle than fat in him; he could not
+be restrained from constant, violent, dangerous exercise; this was one of
+the causes of the admiration of his subjects.</p>
+
+<p>The pinched partlet made a fine undergarment for the slashed
+doublet.</p>
+
+<p>So full, so close, were these &quot;pinchings,&quot; that one author
+complained that men wearing them could not draw their bowstrings well. It
+was said that the &quot;pinched partlet and puffed sleeves&quot; of a
+courtier would easily make a lad a doublet and cloak.</p>
+
+<p>In my chapter on Children's Dress I tell of the pinched shirt worn by
+Governor Bradford when an infant, and give an illustration of it.</p>
+
+<p>Aglets or tags were a pretty fashion revived for women's wear three
+years ago. Under Stuart reign, these aglets were of gold or silver, and set
+with precious stones such as pear-shaped pearls. For ordinary wear they
+were of metal, silk, or leather. They secured from untwisting or ravelling
+the points which were worn for over a century; these were ties or laces of
+ribbon, or woollen yarn or leather, decorated with tags or aglets at one
+end. Points were often home-woven, and were deemed a pretty gift to a
+friend. They were employed instead of buttons in securing clothes, and were
+used by the earliest settlers, chiefly, I think, as ornaments at the knee
+or for holding up the stockings in the place of garters. They were regarded
+as but foolish vanities, and were one of the articles of finery tabooed in
+early sumptuary laws. In 1651 the general court of Massachusetts expressed
+its &quot;utter detestation and dislike that men of meane condition,
+education and calling should take upon them the garbe of gentlemen by the
+wearinge of poynts at the knees.&quot; Fashion was more powerful than law;
+the richly trimmed, sashlike garters quickly displaced the modest
+points.</p>
+
+<p>The Earl of Southampton, friend of Shakespere and of Virginia, as
+pictured on a later page, wears a doublet with agletted points around his
+belt, by which breeches and doublet are tied together. This is a striking
+portrait. The face is very noble. A similar belt was the favorite wear of
+Charles I.</p>
+
+<p>Martin Frobisher, the hero of the Armada, wears a jerkin fastened down
+the front with buttons and aigletted points. (See <a
+href="#A_Plain_Jerkin.">here</a>.) I suppose, when the fronts of the jerkin
+were thoroughly joined, each button had a point twisted or tied around it.
+Frobisher's lawn ruff is a modest and becoming one. This portrait in the
+original is full length. The remainder of the costume is very plain; it has
+no garters, no knee-points, no ribbons, no shoe-roses. The foot-covering is
+Turkish slippers precisely like the Oriental slippers which are imported
+to-day.</p>
+
+<p>The Earl of Morton (<a href="#James_Douglas_(Earl_of_Morton).">here</a>)
+wore a jerkin of buff leather curiously pinked and slashed. Fulke
+Greville's doublet (<a href="#Fulke_Greville_(Lord_Brooke).">here</a>) has
+a singular puff around the waist, like a farthingale.<a
+href="#A_Doublet.">Here</a> is shown a doublet of the commonest form; this
+is worn by Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire. The portrait is painted by
+Sir Antonio More--the portrait of one artist by another, and a very fine
+one, too.</p>
+
+<p>Another garment, which is constantly named in lists of clothing, was the
+cassock. Steevens says a cassock &quot;signifies a horseman's loose coat,
+and is used in that sense by the writers of the age of Shakespere.&quot; It
+was apparently a garment much like a doublet or jerkin, and the names were
+used interchangeably. I think the cassock was longer than the doublet, and
+without &quot;laps.&quot; The straight, long coats shown on the gentlemen
+in the picture <a href="#Funeral_Procession.">here</a> were cassocks. The
+name finally became applied only to the coat or gown of the clergy. In the
+will of Robert Saltonstall, made in 1650, he names a &quot;Plush
+Cassock,&quot; but cloth cassocks were the commonest wear.</p>
+
+<p>There were other names for the doublet which are now difficult to place
+precisely. In the reign of Henry VIII a law was passed as to men's wear of
+velvet in their sleeveless cotes, jackets, and jupes. This word jupe and
+its ally jupon were more frequently heard in women's lists; but jump, a
+derivative, was man's wear. Randle Holme said: &quot;A jump extendeth to
+the thighs; is open and buttoned before, and may have a slit half way
+behind.&quot; It might be with or without sleeves--all this being likewise
+true of the doublet. From this jump descended the modern jumper and the
+eighteenth century jumps--what Dr. Johnson defined in one of his
+delightsome struggles with the names of women's attire, &quot;Jumps: a kind
+of loose or limber stays worn by sickly ladies.&quot;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Colonel_William_Legge."></a>
+<img src="images\203.png" alt="Colonel William Legge.">
+<H4>Colonel William Legge.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Coats were not furnished to the Massachusetts or Plymouth planters, but
+those of Piscataquay in New Hampshire had &quot;lined coats,&quot; which
+were simply doublets like all the rest.</p>
+
+<p>In 1633 we find that Governor Winthrop had several dozen scarlet coats
+sent from England to &quot;the Bay.&quot; The consigner wrote, &quot;I
+could not find any Bridgwater cloth but Red; so all the coats sent are red
+lined with blew, and lace suitable; which red is the choise color of
+all.&quot; These coats of double thickness were evidently doublets.</p>
+
+<p>The word &quot;coat&quot; in the earliest lists must often refer to a
+waistcoat. I infer this from the small cost of the garments, the small
+amount of stuff it took to make them, and because they were worn with
+&quot;Vper coats&quot;--upper coats. Raccoon-skin and deerskin coats were
+many; these were likewise waistcoats, and the first lace coats were also
+waistcoats. Robert Keayne of Boston had costly lace coats in 1640, which he
+wore with doublets--these likewise were waistcoats.</p>
+
+<p>As years go on, the use of the word becomes constant. There were
+&quot;moose-coats&quot; of mooseskin. Josselyn says mooseskin made
+excellent coats for martial men. Then come papous coats and pappous coats.
+These I inferred--since they were used in Indian trading--were for
+pappooses' wear, pappoose being the Indian word for child. But I had a
+painful shock in finding in the <i>Traders' Table of Values</i> that
+&quot;3 Pappous Skins equal 1 Beaver&quot;--so I must not believe that
+pappoose here means Indian baby. Match-coats were originally of skins
+dressed with the fur on, shaped in a coat like the hunting-shirt. The
+&quot;Duffield Match-coat&quot; was made of duffels, a woollen stuff, in
+the same shape. Duffels was called match-cloth. The word &quot;coat&quot;
+here is not really an English word; it is matchigode, the Chippewa Indian
+name for this garment.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="205"></a>
+<img src="images\205.png" alt="Sir Thomas Orchard, Knight">
+<h4>Sir Thomas Orchard, Knight</h4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>We have in old-time letters and accounts occasional proof that the coat
+of the Puritan fathers was not at all like the shapely coat of our day. We
+have also many words to prove that the coat was a doublet which, as old
+Stubbes said, could be &quot;pleated, or crested behind and curiously
+gathered.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The tailor of the Winthrop family was one John Smith; he made garments
+for them all, father, mother, children, and children's wives, and husband's
+sisters, nieces, cousins, and aunts. He was a good Puritan, and seems to
+have been much esteemed by Winthrop. One letter accompanying a coat runs:
+&quot;Good Mr. Winthrop, I have, by Mr. Downing's direction sent you a
+coat, a sad foulding colour without lace. For the fittness I am a little
+vncerteyne, but if it be too bigg or too little it is esie to amend, vnder
+the arme to take in or let out the lyning; the outside may be let out in
+the gathering or taken in also without any prejudice.&quot; This
+instruction would appear to prove not only that the coat was a doublet,
+&quot;curiously gathered&quot; but that the &quot;fittness&quot; was more
+than &quot;uncerteyne&quot; of the coats of the Fathers. Since even such
+wildly broad directions could not &quot;prejudice&quot; the coat, we may
+assume that Governor Winthrop was more easily suited as to the cut of his
+apparel, than would have been Sir Walter Raleigh or Sir Philip Sidney.</p>
+
+<p>Though Puritan influence on dress simplified much of the flippery and
+finery of the days of Elizabeth and James, and the refining elegance of Van
+Dyck gave additional simplicity as well as beauty to women's attire, which
+it retained for many years, still there lingered throughout the seventeenth
+century, ready to spring into fresh life at a breath of encouragement, many
+grotesqueries of fashion in men's dress which, in the picturesque sneer of
+the day, were deemed meet only for &quot;a changeable-silk-gallant.&quot;
+At the restoration of the crown, courtiers seemed to love to flaunt
+frivolity in the faces of the Puritans.</p>
+
+<p>One of these trumperies came through the excessive use of ribbons, a use
+which gave much charm to women's dress, but which ever gave to men's
+garments a finicky look. Beribboned doublets came in the butterfly period,
+between worm and chrysalis, between doublet and coat; beribboned breeches
+were eagerly adopted.</p>
+
+<p>Shown <a href="#205">here</a> is the copy of an old print, which shows
+the dress of an estimable and sensible gentleman, Sir Thomas Orchard, with
+ribbon-edged garments and much galloon or laces. It is far too much trimmed
+to be rich or elegant. See also <i>The English Antick</i> on this page,
+from a rare broadside. His tall hat is beribboned and befeathered; his face
+is patched, ribbons knot his love-locks, his breeches are edged with
+agletted ribbons, and &quot;on either side are two great bunches of ribbons
+of several colors.&quot; Similar knots are at wrists and belt. His boots
+are fringed with lace, and so wide that he &quot;straddled as he went along
+singing.&quot;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="The_English_Antick."></a>
+<img src="images\207.png" alt="The English Antick.">
+<H4>The English Antick.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Ribboned sleeves like those of Colonel Legge, <a
+href="#Colonel_William_Legge.">here</a>, were a pretty fashion, but more
+suited to women's wear than to men's.</p>
+
+<p>George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, tells us what he thought of such
+attire. He wrote satirically:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;If one have store of ribands hanging about his waist or
+his knees and in his hat; of divers colours red, white black or yellow, O!
+then he is a brave man. He hath ribands on his back, belly and knees, and
+his hair powdered, this is the array of the world. Are not these that have
+got ribands hanging about their arms, hands, back, waist, knees, hats, like
+fiddlers' boys? And further if one get a pair of breeches like a coat and
+hang them about with points, and tied up almost to the middle, a pair of
+double cuffs on his hands, and a feather in his cap, here is a
+gentleman!&quot;</blockquote>
+
+<p>These beribboned garments were a French mode. The breeches were the
+&quot;rhingraves&quot; of the French court, which were breeches made wholly
+of loops of ribbons--like two ribboned petticoats. They caught the eye of
+seafaring men; we know that Jack ashore loves finery. We are told of
+sea-captains wearing beribboned breeches as they came into quiet little
+American ports, and of one English gallant landing from a ship in sober
+Boston, wearing breeches made wholly from waist to knee of overlapping
+loops of gay varicolored ribbon. It is recorded that &quot;the boys did
+wonder and call out thereat,&quot; and they &quot;were chided
+therefor.&quot; It is easy to picture the scene: the staring boys, born in
+Boston, of Puritan parents, of dignified dress, and more familiar with
+fringes on the garments of savage Indians than on the breeches of English
+gentlemen; we can see the soberly reproving minister or schoolmaster
+looking with equal disapproval on the foppish visitor and the mannerless
+boys; and the gayly dressed ship's captain, armed with self-satisfaction
+and masculine vanity, swaggering along the narrow streets of the little
+town. It mattered not what he wore or what he did, a seafaring man was
+welcome. I wonder what the governor thought of those beribboned breeches!
+Perhaps he ordered a pair from London for himself,--of sad-colored
+ribbons,--offering the color as a compromise for the over-gayety of the
+ribbons. Randle Holme gave in 1658 three descriptions of the first
+petticoat-breeches, with drawings of each. One had the lining lower than
+the breeches, and tied in about the knees; ribbons extended halfway up the
+breeches, and ribbons hung out from the doublet all about the waistband.
+The second had a single row of pointed ribbons hanging all around the lower
+edge of the breeches; these were worn with stirrup-hose two yards wide at
+the top, tied by points and eyelet-holes to the breeches. The third had
+stirrup-hose tied to the breeches, and another pair of hose over them
+turned down at the calf of the leg, and the ribbons edged the stirrup-hose.
+His drawings of them are foolish things--not even pretty. He says ribbons
+were worn first at the knees, then at the waist at the doublet edge, then
+around the neck, then on the wrists and sleeves. These knee-ribbons formed
+what Dryden called in 1674 &quot;a dangling knee-fringe.&quot; It is
+difficult for me to think of Dryden living at that period of history. He
+seems to me infinitely modern in comparison with it. Evelyn describes the
+wearer of such a suit as &quot;a fine silken thing&quot;; and tells that
+the ribbons were of &quot;well-chosen colours of red, orange, and blew, of
+well-gummed satin, which augured a happy fancy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In 1672 a suit of men's clothes was made for the beautiful Duchess of
+Portsmouth to wear to a masquerade; this was with &quot;Rhingrave breeches
+and cannons.&quot; The suit was of dove-colored silk brocade trimmed with
+scarlet and silver lace and ribbons.</p>
+
+<p>The ten yards of brocade for this beautiful suit cost &pound;14. The
+Rhingrave breeches were trimmed with thirty-six yards of figured scarlet
+ribbon and thirty-six yards of plain satin ribbon and thirty-six of scarlet
+taffeta ribbon; this made one hundred and eight yards of ribbon--a great
+amount--an unusable amount. I fear the tailor was not honest. There were
+also as trimmings twenty-two yards of scarlet and silver vellum lace for
+guards; six dozen scarlet and silver vellum buttons, smaller breast
+buttons, narrow laces for the waistcoat, and silver twist for buttonholes.
+The suit was lined with lutestring. There was a black beaver hat with
+scarlet and silver edging, and lace embroidered scarlet stockings, a rich
+belt and lace garters, and point lace ruffles for the neck, sleeves, and
+knees. This suit had an interlining of scarlet camlet; and lutestring
+drawers seamed with scarlet and silver lace. The total bill of &pound;59
+would be represented to-day by $1400,--a goodly sum,--but it was a goodly
+suit. There is a portrait of the Duchess of Richmond in a similar suit, now
+at Buckingham Palace. Portraits of the Duke of Bedford, and of George I,
+painted by Kneller, are almost equally beribboned. The one of the king is
+given facing this page to show his ribbons and also the extraordinary
+shoes, which were fashionable at this date.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="George_I."></a>
+<img src="images\211.png" alt="George I.">
+<H4>George I.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>&quot;Indians gowns,&quot; or banyans, were for a century worn in
+England and America, and are of enough importance to receive a separate
+chapter in this book. The graceful folds allured all men and all portrait
+painters, just as the fashionable new china allured all women. The banyan
+was not the only Oriental garment which had become of interest to
+Englishmen. John Evelyn described in his <I>Tyrannus or the Mode</I> the
+&quot;comeliness and usefulnesse&quot; of all Persian clothing; and he
+noted with justifiable gratification that the new attire which had recently
+been adopted by King Charles II was &quot;a comely dress after ye Persian
+mode.&quot; He says modestly, &quot;I do not impute to this my discourse
+the change which soone happened; but it was an identity I could not but
+take notice of.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Rugge in his <I>Diurnal</I> describes the novel dress which was assumed
+by King Charles and the whole court, due notice of a subject of so much
+importance having been given to the council the previous month; and notice
+of the king's determination &quot;never to change it,&quot; which he kept
+like many another of his promises and resolutions.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;It is a close coat of cloth pinkt with a white taffety
+under the cutts. This in length reached the calf of the leg; and upon that
+a sercoat cutt at the breast, which hung loose and shorter than the vest
+six inches. The breeches the Spanish cutt; and buskins some of cloth, some
+of leather but of the same colour as the vest or garment; of never the
+like garment since William the Conqueror.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Three_Cassock_Sleeves_and_a_Buff-coat_Sleeve."></a>
+<img src="images\213.png" alt="Three Cassock Sleeves and a Buff-coat Sleeve.">
+<H4>Three Cassock Sleeves and a Buff-coat Sleeve.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Pepys we have seen further explained that it was all black and white,
+the black cassock being close to the body. &quot;The legs ruffled with
+black ribands like a pigeon's leg, and I wish the King may keep it for it
+is a fine and handsome garment.&quot; The news which came to the English
+court a month later that the king of France had put all his footmen and
+servants in this same dress as a livery made Pepys &quot;mightie merry, it
+being an ingenious kind of affront, and yet makes me angry,&quot; which is
+as curious a frame of mind as even curious Pepys could record.
+Planch&eacute; doubts this act of the king of France; but in <i>The
+Character of a Trimmer</i> the story is told <i>in extenso</i>--that the
+&quot;vests were put on at first by the King to make Englishmen look unlike
+Frenchmen; but at the first laughing at it all ran back to the dress of
+French gentlemen.&quot; The king had already taken out the white linings as
+&quot;'tis like a magpie;&quot; and was glad to quit it I do not doubt. Dr.
+Holmes--and the rest of us--have looked askance at the word
+&quot;vest&quot; as allied in usage to that unutterable contraction, pants.
+But here we find that vest is a more classic name than waistcoat for this
+dull garment--a garment with too little form or significance to be elegant
+or interesting or attractive.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Henry_Bennet,_Earl_of_Arlington."></a>
+<img src="images\214.png" alt="Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington.">
+<H4>Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Though this dress was adopted by the whole court, and though it was an
+age of portrait painting,--and surely no more delicate flattery to the
+king's taste could be given than to have one's portrait painted in the
+king's chosen vestments,--yet but one portrait remains which is stated to
+display this dress. This is the portrait of Henry Bennet, Earl of
+Arlington--it is shown on this page. This was painted by the king's own
+painter, Sir Peter Lely. I must say that I cannot find much resemblance to
+Pepys's or Rugge's description, unless the word &quot;pinked&quot; means
+cut out in an all-over pattern like Italian cut-work; then this inner vest
+might be of &quot;cloth pinkt with a white taffeta under the coat.&quot;
+The surcoat is of black lined with white. Of course the sash is present,
+but not in any way distinctive. It was a characteristic act in the Earl to
+be painted in this dress, for he was a courtier of courtiers, perhaps the
+most rigid follower of court rules in England. He was &quot;by nature of a
+pleasant and agreeable humour,&quot; but after a diplomatic journey on the
+continent he assumed an absurd formality of manner which was much ridiculed
+by his contemporaries. His letters show him to be exceeding nice in his
+phraseology; and he prided himself upon being the best-bred man in court.
+He was a trimmer, &quot;the chief trickster of the court,&quot; a member of
+the Cabal, the first <i>a</i> in the word; and he was heartily hated as
+well as ridiculed. When a young man he received a cut on the nose in a
+skirmish in Ireland; he never let his prowess be forgotten, but ever after
+wore a black patch over the scar--it may be seen in his portrait. When his
+fellow courtiers wished to gibe at him, they stuck black patches on their
+noses and with long white staves strutted around the court in imitation of
+his pompous manner. He is a handsome fellow, but too fat--which was not a
+curse of his day as of the present.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Funeral_Procession."></a>
+<img src="images\216.png" alt="Figures from Funeral Procession of the Duke of Albemarle,
+1670.">
+<H4>Figures from Funeral Procession of the Duke of Albemarle,
+1670.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Of course the king changed his dress many times after this solemn
+assumption of a lifelong garment. It was a restless, uncertain, trying time
+in men's dress. They had lost the doublet, and had not found the skirted
+coat, and stood like the Englishman of Andrew Borde--ready to take a
+covering from any nation of the earth. I wonder the coat ever
+survived--that it did is proof of an inherent worth. Knowing the nature of
+mankind and the modes, the surprise really is that the descendants of
+Charles and all English folk are not now wearing shawls or peplums or
+anything save a coat and waistcoat.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the sturdy rich members of the governors' cabinets and the
+assemblies and some of our American officers who had been in his Majesty's
+army, or had served a term in the provincial militia, and had had a hot
+skirmish or two with marauding Indians on the Connecticut River frontier,
+and some very worthy American gentlemen who were not widely renowned either
+in military or diplomatic circles and had never worn armor save in the
+artist's studio,--these were all painted by Sir Godfrey Kneller and by Sir
+Peter Lely, and by lesser lights in art, dressed in a steel corselet of the
+artist, and wearing their own good Flanders necktie and their own full
+well-buckled wig. There were some brave soldiers, too, who were thus
+painted, but there were far more in armor than had ever smelt smoke of
+powder. It was a good comfortable fashion for the busy artist. It must have
+been much easier when you had painted a certain corselet a hundred times to
+paint it again than to have to paint all kinds of new colors and stuffs.
+And the portrait in armor was almost always kitcat, and that disposed of
+the legs, ever a nuisance in portrait-painting.</p>
+
+<p>While the virago-sleeves were growing more and more ornamental, and
+engageants were being more and more worn by women, men's sleeves assumed a
+most interesting form. The long coat, or cassock, had sleeves which were
+cut off at the elbow with great cuffs and were worn over enormous ruffled
+undersleeves; and they were even cut midway between shoulder and elbow,
+were slashed and pointed and beribboned to a wonderful degree. This lasted
+but a few years, the years when the cassock was shaping itself definitely
+into a skirted coat. Perhaps the height of ornamentation in sleeves was in
+the closing years of the reign of Charles II, though fancy sleeves lingered
+till the time of George I.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Earl_of_Southampton."></a>
+<img src="images\219.png" alt="Earl of Southampton.">
+<H4>Earl of Southampton.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In an account of the funeral of George Monck, the Duke of Albemarle, in
+the year 1670, the dress is very carefully drawn of those who walked in the
+procession. (Some of them are given <a
+href="#Funeral_Procession.">here</a>.) It may be noted, first, that all the
+hats are lower crowned and straight crowned, not like a cone or a truncated
+cone, as crowns had been. The <I>Poor Men</I> are in robes with beards and
+flowing natural hair; they wear square bands, and carry staves. The
+<I>Clergymen</I> wear trailing surplices; but these are over a sort of
+cassock and breeches, and they all have high-heeled shoes with great roses.
+They also have their own hair. The <I>Doctors of Physic</I> are dressed
+like the <I>Gentlemen and Earls</I>, save that they wear a rich robe with
+bands at the upper arm, over the other fine dress. The gentlemen wear a
+cassock, or coat, which reaches to the knee; the pockets are nearly as low
+as the knee. These cassocks have lapels from neck to hem, with a long row
+of gold buttons which are wholly for ornament, the cassock never being
+fastened with the buttons. The sleeves reach only to the elbow and turn
+back in a spreading cuff; and from the elbow hang heavy ruffles and
+under-sleeves, some of rich lace, others of embroidery. The gentlemen and
+earls wear great wigs.</p>
+
+<p>This coat was called a surcoat or tunic. The under-coat, or waistcoat,
+was also called a vest, as by Charles the king.</p>
+
+<p>From this vest, or surcoat, was developed a coat, with skirts, such as
+had become, ere the year 1700, the universal wear of English and American
+men. Its first form was adopted about at the close of the reign of Charles
+II. By 1688 Quaker teachers warned their younger sort against
+&quot;cross-pockets on men's coats, side slopes, over-full skirted
+coats.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In an old play a man threatens a country lad, &quot;I'll make your
+buttons fly.&quot; The lad replies, &quot;All my buttons is loops.&quot;
+Some garments, especially leather ones, like doublets, which were
+cumbersome to button, were secured by loops. For instance, in
+spatterdashes, a row of holes was set on one side, and of loops on the
+other. To fasten them, one must begin at the lower loop, pass this through
+the first hole, then put the second loop through that first loop and the
+second hole, and so on till the last loop was fastened to the breeches by
+buckle and strap or large single button. From these loops were developed
+frogs and loops.</p>
+
+<p>Major John Pyncheon had, in 1703, a &quot;light coulour'd cape-coat with
+Frogs on it.&quot; In the <i>New England Weekly Journal</i> of 1736
+&quot;New Fashion'd Frogs&quot; are named; and later, &quot;Spangled
+Scalloped &amp; Brocaded Frogs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Though these jerkins and mandillions and doublets which were furnished
+to the Bay colonists were fastened with hooks and eyes, buttons were worn
+also, as old portraits and old letters prove. John Eliot ordered for
+traffic with the Indians, in 1651, three gross of pewter buttons; and
+Robert Keayne, of Boston, writing in 1653, said bitterly that a
+&quot;haynous offence&quot; of his had been selling buttons at too large
+profit--that they were gold buttons and he had sold them for two shillings
+ninepence a dozen in Boston, when they had cost but two shillings a dozen
+in London (which does not seem, in the light of our modern profits on
+imported goods, a very &quot;haynous&quot; offence). He also added with
+acerbity that &quot;they were never payd for by those that
+complayned.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Buttonholes were a matter of ornament more than of use; in fact, they
+were never used for closing the garment after coats came to be worn. They
+were carefully cut and &quot;laid around&quot; in gay colors, embroidered
+with silver and gold thread, bound with vellum, with kid, with velvet. We
+find in old-time letters directions about modish buttonholes, and drawings
+even, in order that the shape may be exactly as wished. An English
+contemporary of John Winthrop's has tasselled buttonholes on his
+doublet.</p>
+
+<p>Various are the reasons given for the placing of the two buttons on the
+back of a man's coat. One is that they are a survival of buttons which were
+used on the eighteenth-century riding-coat. The coat-tails were thus
+buttoned up when the wearer was on horseback. Another is that they were
+used for looping back the skirts of the coats; it is said that loops of
+cord were placed at the corners of the said skirts.</p>
+
+<p>A curious anecdote about these two buttons on the back of the coat is
+that a tribe of North American Indians, deep believers in the value of
+symbolism, refused to heed a missionary because he could not explain to
+them the significance of these two buttons.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="#VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>RUFFS AND BANDS</h3>
+<blockquote><i>&quot;Fashion has brought in deep ruffs and shallow ruffs,
+thick ruffs and thin ruffs, double ruffs and no ruffs. When the Judge of
+the quick and the dead shall appear he will not know those who have so
+defaced the fashion he hath created.&quot;</i><br> <br> --Sermon, JOHN
+KING, Bishop of London, 1590.<br> <br><br>
+<i>&quot;Now up aloft I mount unto the Ruffe<br>
+Which into foolish Mortals pride doth puffe;<br>
+Yet Ruffe's antiquitie is here but small--<br>
+Within these eighty Tears not one at all<br>
+For the 8th Henry, as I understand<br>
+Was the first King that ever wore a Band<br>
+And but a Falling Band, plaine with a Hem<br>
+All other people know no use of them.&quot;</i><br>
+<br>
+--&quot;The Prayse of Clean Linnen,&quot; JOHN TAYLOR, the &quot;Water Poet,&quot; 1640.<br></blockquote>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>RUFFS AND BANDS</h3>
+<br>
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\initialw.png" align=left
+alt="W">e have in this poem of the old &quot;Water Poet&quot; a definite
+statement of the date of the introduction of ruffs for English wear. We are
+afforded in the portraiture given in this book ample proof of the fall of
+the ruff.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="A_Bowdoin_Portrait."></a>
+<img src="images\224.png" alt="A Bowdoin Portrait.">
+<H4>A Bowdoin Portrait.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Like many of the most striking fashions of olden times, the ruff was
+Spanish. French gentlemen had worn frills or ruffs about 1540; soon after,
+these appeared in England; by the date of Elizabeth's accession the ruff
+had become the most imposing article of English men's and women's dress. It
+was worn exclusively by fine folk; for it was too frail and too costly for
+the common wear of the common people, though lawn ruffs were seen on many
+of low degree. A ruff such as was worn by a courtier contained eighteen or
+nineteen yards of fine linen lawn. A quarter of a yard wide was the
+fashionable width in England. Ruffs were carefully pleated in triple
+box-plaits as shown in the Bowdoin portrait <a
+href="#A_Bowdoin_Portrait.">here</a>. Then they were bound with a firm
+neck-binding.</p>
+
+<p>This carefully made ruff was starched with good English or Dutch starch;
+fluted with &quot;setting sticks&quot; of wood or bone, to hold each pleat
+up; then fixed with struts--also of wood--placed in a manner to hold the
+pleats firmly apart; and finally &quot;seared&quot; or goffered with
+&quot;poking sticks&quot; of iron or steel, which, duly heated, dried the
+stiffening starch. To &quot;do up&quot; a formal ruff was a wearisome,
+difficult, and costly precess. Women of skill acquired considerable
+fortunes as &quot;gofferers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Stubbes tells us further of the rich decoration of ruffs with gold,
+silver, and silk lace, with needlework, with openwork, and with purled
+lace. This was in Elizabeth's day. John Winthrop's ruff (<a
+href="#Governor_John_Winthrop.">here</a>) is edged with lace; in general a
+plain ruff was worn by plain gentlemen; one may be seen on Martin Frobisher
+(<a href="#A_Doublet.">here</a>). Rich lace was for the court. Their great
+cost, their inconvenience, their artificiality, their size, were sure to
+make ruffs a &quot;reason of offence&quot; to reformers. Stubbes gave voice
+to their complaints in these words:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;They haue great and monstrous ruffes, made either of
+cambrike, holland, lawne, or els of some other the finest cloth that can
+be got for money, whereof some be a quarter of a yarde deepe, yea, some
+more, very few lesse, so that they stande a full quarter of a yearde (and
+more) from their necks hanging ouer their shoulder points in steade of a
+vaile.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Still more violent does he grow over starch:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The one arch or piller whereby his (the Devil's) kyngdome
+of great ruffes is vnderpropped, is a certaine kind of liquid matter,
+whiche they call starch, wherein the deuill hath willed them to washe and
+dive their ruffes well, whiche, beeying drie, will then stande stiff and
+inflexible about their necks.<br> <br> &quot;The other piller is a
+certaine device made of wiers, crested for the purpose; whipped over
+either with gold thred, silver, or silke, and this he calleth a
+supportasse or vnderpropper; this is to bee applied round about their
+neckes under the ruffe, upon the out side of the bande, to beare up the
+whole frame and bodie of the ruffe, from fallying and hangying
+doune.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Starch was of various colors. We read of &quot;blue-starch-women,&quot;
+and of what must have been especially ugly, &quot;goose-green starch.&quot;
+Yellow starch was most worn. It was introduced from France by the notorious
+Mrs. Turner. (See <a
+href="#A_Woman's_Doublet._Mrs._Anne_Turner.">here</a>.)</p>
+
+<p>Wither wrote thus of the varying modes of dressing the neck:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Some are graced by their Tyres<br>
+As their Quoyfs, their Hats, their Wyres,<br>
+One a Ruff cloth best become;<br>
+Falling bands allureth some;<br>
+And their favours oft we see<br>
+Chang&egrave;d as their dressings be.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>The transformation of ruff to band can be seen in the painting of King
+Charles I. The first Van Dyck portrait of him shows him in a moderate ruff
+turned over to lie down like a collar; the lace edge formed itself by the
+pleats into points which developed into the lace points characteristic of
+Van Dyck's later pictures and called by his name.</p>
+
+<p>Evelyn, describing a medal of King Charles I struck in 1633, says,
+&quot;The King wears a falling band, a new mode which has succeeded the
+cumbersome ruff; but neither do the bishops nor the Judges give it up so
+soon.&quot; Few of the early colonial portraits show ruffs, though the name
+appears in many inventories, but &quot;playne bands&quot; are more
+frequently named than ruffs. Thus in an Inventory of William Swift,
+Plymouth, 1642, he had &quot;2 Ruff Bands and 4 Playne Bands.&quot; The
+&quot;playne band&quot; of the Puritans is shown in this portrait of
+William Pyncheon, which is dated 1657.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="William_Pyncheon."></a>
+<img src="images\228.png" alt="William Pyncheon.">
+<H4>William Pyncheon.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The first change from the full pleated ruff of the sixteenth century
+came in the adoption of a richly laced collar, unpleated, which still stood
+up behind the ears at the back of the head. Often it was wired in place
+with a supportasse. This was worn by both men and women. You may see one <a
+href="#Pocahontas.">here</a>, on the neck of Pocahontas, her portrait
+painted in 1616. This collar, called a standing-band, when turned down was
+known as a falling-band or a rebato.</p>
+
+<p>The rich lace falling-band continued to be worn until the great flowing
+wig, with long, heavy curls, covered the entire shoulders and hid any band;
+the floating ends in front were the only part visible. In time they too
+vanished. Pepys wrote in 1662, &quot;Put on my new lace band and so neat;
+am resolved my great expense shall be lace bands, and it will set off
+anything else the more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I scarcely need to point out the falling-band in its various shapes as
+worn in America; they can be found readily in the early pages of this book.
+It was a fashion much discussed and at first much disliked; but the ruff
+had seen its last day--for men's wear, when the old fellows who had worn it
+in the early years of the seventeenth century dropped off as the century
+waned. The old Bowdoin gentleman must have been one of the last to wear
+this cumbersome though stately adjunct of dress--save as it was displaced
+on some formal state occasion or as part of a uniform or livery.</p>
+
+<p>There is a constant tendency in all times and among all English-speaking
+folk to shorten names and titles for colloquial purposes; and soon the
+falling-band became the fall. In the <i>Wits' Recreation</i> are two
+epigrams which show the thought of the times:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;WHY WOMEN WEARE A FALL<br>
+<br>
+&quot;A Question 'tis why Women wear a fall?<br>
+And truth it is to Pride they're given all.<br>
+And <i>Pride</i>, the proverb says, <i>will have a fall</i>.&quot;<br>
+<br><br>
+ &quot;ON A LITTLE DIMINUTIVE BAND<br>
+<br>
+&quot;What is the reason of God-dam-me's band,<br>
+Inch deep? and that his fashion doth not alter,<br>
+God-dam-me saves a labor, understand<br>
+In pulling it off, where he puts on the Halter.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>&quot;God-dam-me&quot; was one of the pleasant epithets which, by scores, were
+applied to the Puritans.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Reverend_Jonathan_Edwards."></a>
+<img src="images\230.png" alt="Reverend Jonathan Edwards.">
+<H4>Reverend Jonathan Edwards.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The bands worn by the learned professions, two strips of lawn with
+squared ends, were at first the elongated ends of the shirt collar of
+Jonathan Edwards. We have them still, to remind us of old fashions; and we
+have another word and thing, band-box, which must have been a stern
+necessity in those days of starch, and ruff, and band.</p>
+
+<p>It was by no means a convention of dress that &quot;God-dam-me&quot;
+should wear a small band. Neither Cromwell nor his followers clung long to
+plain bands; nor did they all assume them. It would be wholly impossible to
+generalize or to determine the standing of individuals, either in politics
+or religion, by their neckwear. I have before me a little group of prints
+of men of Cromwell's day, gathered for extra illustration of a history of
+Cromwell's time. Let us glance at their bands.</p>
+
+<p>First comes Cromwell himself from the Cooper portrait at Cambridge; this
+portrait has a plain linen turnover collar, or band, but two to three
+inches wide. Then his father is shown in a very broad, square, plain linen
+collar extending in front expanse from shoulder seam to shoulder seam. Sir
+Harry Vane and Hampden, both Puritans, have narrow collars like Cromwell's;
+Pym, an equally precise sectarian, has a broader one like the father's, but
+apparently of some solid and rich embroidery like cut-work. Edward Hyde,
+the Earl of Clarendon, in narrow band, Lucius Cary, Lord Falkland, in band
+and band-strings, were members of the Long Parliament, but passed in time
+to the Royal Camp. Other portraits of both noblemen are in richly laced
+bands. The Earl of Bristol, who was in the same standing, has the widest of
+lace, Vandyked collars. John Selden wears the plain band; but here is
+Strafford, the very impersonation of all that was hated by Puritans, and
+yet he wears the simplest of puritanical bands. William Lenthal, Speaker of
+the House of Commons, is in a beautiful Cavalier collar with straight lace
+edges. There are a score more, equally indifferent to rule.</p>
+
+<p>There is no doubt, however, that the Puritan regarded his plain band--if
+he wore it--with jealous care. Poor Mary Downing, niece of Governor
+Winthrop, paid dearly for her careless &quot;searing,&quot; or ironing, of
+her brother's bands. Her stepmother's severity at her offence brought forth
+this plaintive letter:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Father, I trust that I have not provoked you to harbour
+soe ill an opinion of mee as my mothers lettres do signifie and give me
+to understand; the ill opinion and hard pswasion which shee beares of mee,
+that is to say, that I should abuse yor goodness, and bee prodigall of yor
+purse, neglectful of my brothers bands, and of my slatterishnes and
+lasines; for my brothers bands I will not excuse myselfe, but I thinke not
+worthy soe sharpe a reproofe; for the rest I must needs excuse, and cleare
+myselfe if I may bee believed. I doe not know myselfe guilty of any of
+them; for myne owne part I doe not desire to be myne owne judge, but am
+willinge to bee judged by them with whom I live, and see my course,
+whether I bee addicted to such things or noe.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Ruffs and bands were not the only neckwear of the colonists. Very soon
+there was a tendency to ornament the band-strings with tassels of silk,
+with little tufts of ribbon, with tiny rosettes, with jewels even; and soon
+a graceful frill of lace hung where the band was tied together. This may be
+termed the beginning of the necktie or cravat; but the article itself
+enjoyed many names, and many forms, which in general extended both to men's
+and women's wear.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Captain_George_Curwen."></a>
+<img src="images\233.png" alt="Captain George Curwen.">
+<H4>Captain George Curwen.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Let us turn to the old inventories for the various names of this
+neckwear.</p>
+
+<p>A Maryland gentleman left by will, with other attire, in 1642,
+&quot;Nine laced stripps, two plain stripps, nine quoifes, one call, eight
+crosse-cloths, a paire holland sleeves, a paire women's cuffs, nine plaine
+neck-cloths, five laced neck-cloths, two plaine gorgetts, seven laced
+gorgetts, three old clouts, five plaine neckhandkerchiefs, two plain
+shadowes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>John Taylor, the &quot;Water Poet,&quot; wrote a poem entitled The
+Needles Excellency. I quote from the twelfth edition, dated 1640. In the
+list of garments which we owe to the needle he names:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Shadows, Shapparoones, Cauls, Bands, Ruffs, Kuffs,<br>
+Kerchiefs, Quoyfes, Chin-clouts, Marry-muffes,<br>
+Cross-cloths, Aprons, Hand-kerchiefs, or Falls.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>His list runs like that of the Maryland planter. The strip was something
+like the whisk; indeed, the names seem interchangeable. Bishop Hall in his
+<i>Satires</i> writes:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;When a plum'd fan may hide thy chalked face<br>
+And lawny strips thy naked bosom grace.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Dr. Smith wrote in 1658 in <i>Penelope and Ulysses</i>:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;A stomacher upon her breast so bare<br>
+For strips and gorget were not then the wear.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>The gorget was the frill in front; the strip the lace cape or whisk. It
+will be noted that nine gorgets are named with these strips.</p>
+
+<p>The gorget when worn by women was enriched with lace and needlework.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;These Holland smocks as white as snow<br>
+And gorgets brave with drawn-work wrought<br>
+A tempting ware they are you know.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Thus runs a poem published in 1596.</p>
+
+<p>Mary Verney writes in 1642 her desire for &quot;gorgetts and eyther cutt
+or painted callico to wear under them or what is most in fashion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The shadow has been a great stumbling-block to antiquaries. Purchas's
+<i>Pilgrimage</i> is responsible for what is to me a very confusing
+reference. It says of a certain savage race:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;They have a skin of leather hanging about their necks
+whenever they sit bare-headed and bare-footed, with their right arms bare;
+and a broad Sombrero or Shadow in their hands to defend them in Summer
+from the Sunne, in Winter from the Rain.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>This would make a shadow a sort of hand-screen or sunshade; but all
+other references seem as if a shadow were a cap. As early as 1580, Richard
+Fenner's Wardship Roll has &quot;Item a Caul and Shadoe 4 shillings.&quot;
+I think a shadow was a great cap like a cornet. Cross-cloths were a form of
+head-dress. I have seen old portraits with a cap or head-dress formed of
+crossed bands which I have supposed were cross-cloths.</p>
+
+<p>Cross-cloths also bore a double meaning; for certainly neck-cloths or
+neckerchiefs were sometimes called cross-cloths or cross-clothes. Another
+name is the picardill or piccadilly, a French title for a gorget.
+Fitzgerald, in 1617, wrote of &quot;a spruse coxcomb&quot; that he glanced
+at his pocket looking-glass to see:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;How his Band jumpeth with his Peccadilly<br>
+Whether his Band-strings ballance equally.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Another satirical author could write in 1638 that &quot;pickadillies are
+now out of request.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The portrait of Captain Curwen of Salem (<a
+href="#Captain_George_Curwen.">here</a>) is unlike many of his times. Over
+his doublet he wears a handsome embroidered shoulder sash called a
+trooping-scarf; and his broad lace tie is very unusual for the year 1660. I
+know few like it upon American gentlemen in portraits; and I fancy it is a
+gorget, or a piccadilly. It is pleasant to know that this handsome piece of
+lace has been preserved. It is here shown with his cane.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Lace_Gorget_and_Cane"></a>
+<img src="images\236.png" alt="Lace Gorget and Cane of Captain George Curwen.">
+<H4>Lace Gorget and Cane of Captain George Curwen.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>A little negative proof may be given as to one word and article. The
+gorget is said to be an adaptation of the wimple. Our writers of historical
+tales are very fond of attiring their heroines in wimples and kirtles. Both
+have a picturesque, an antique, sound--the wimple is Biblical and
+Shakesperian, and therefore ever satisfying to the ear, and to the sight in
+manuscript. But I have never seen the word wimple in an inventory, list,
+invoice, letter, or book of colonial times, and but once the word kirtle.
+Likewise are these modern authors a bit vague as to the manner of garment a
+wimple is. One fair maid is described as having her fair form wrapped in a
+warm wimple. She might as well be described as wrapped in a warm cravat.
+For a wimple was simply a small kerchief or covering for the neck, worn in
+the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.</p>
+
+<p>Another quaint term, already obsolete when the <i>Mayflower</i> sailed,
+was partlet. A partlet was an inner kerchief, worn with an open-necked
+bodice or doublet. Its trim plaited edge or ruffle seems to have given rise
+to the popular name, &quot;Dame Partlet,&quot; for a hen. It appeared in
+the reign of Henry VIII; the courtiers imitating the king threw open their
+garments at the throat, and further opened them with slashes; hence the use
+of the partlet, which was a trim form of underhabit or gorget, worn well up
+to the throat. An old dictionary explains that the partlet can be &quot;set
+on or taken off by itself without taking off the bodice, as can be
+pickadillies now-a-days, or men's bands.&quot; It adds that women's
+neckerchiefs have been called partlets.</p>
+
+<p>In October, 1662, Samuel Pepys wrote in his <i>Diary</i>, &quot;Made
+myself fine with Captain Ferrers lace band; being loathe to wear my own new
+scallop; it is so fine.&quot; This is one of his several references to this
+new fashion of band which both he and his wife adopted. He paid &pound;3
+for his scallop, and 45s. for one for his wife. He was so satisfied with
+his elegance in this new scallop, that like many another lover of dress he
+determined his chief extravagance should be for lace. The fashion of
+scallop-wearing came to America. For several years the word was used in
+inventories, then it became as obsolete as a caul, a shadow, a cornet.</p>
+
+<p>The word &quot;cravat&quot; is not very ancient. Its derivation is said
+to be from the Cravates or Croats in the French military service, who
+adopted such neckwear in 1636. An early use of the word is by Blount in
+1656, who called a cravat &quot;a new fashioned Gorget which Women
+wear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The cravat is a distinct companion of the wig, and was worn whenever and
+wherever wigs were donned.</p>
+
+<p>Evelyn gave the year 1666 as the one when vest, cravat, garters, and
+buckles came to be the fashion. We could add likewise wigs. Of course all
+these had been known before that year, but had not been general wear.</p>
+
+<p>An early example of a cravat is shown in the portrait of old William
+Stoughton in my later chapter on Cloaks. His cravat is a distinctly new
+mode of neck-dressing, but is found on all American portraits shortly after
+that date. One is shown with great exactness in the portrait <a
+href="#Governor_Coddington.">here</a>, which is asserted to be that of
+&quot;the handsomest man in the Plantations,&quot; William Coddington,
+Governor of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Governor_Coddington."></a>
+<img src="images\239.png" alt="Governor Coddington.">
+<H4>Governor Coddington.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>He was a precise man, and wearisome in his precision--a bore, even, I
+fear. His beauty went for little in his relation of man to man, and, above
+all, of colonist to colonist; and poor Governor Winthrop must have been
+sorely tormented with his frequent letters, which might have been written
+from Mars for all the signs they bore of news of things of this earth. His
+dress is very neat and rich--a characteristic dress, I think. It has
+slightly wrought buttonholes, plain sleeve ruffles and gloves. His full
+curled peruke has a mass of long curls hanging in front of the right
+shoulder, while the curls on the left side are six or eight inches shorter.
+This was the most elegant London fashion, and extreme fashion too. His
+neck-scarf or cravat was a characteristic one. It consisted of a long scarf
+of soft, fine, sheer, white linen over two yards long, passed twice or
+thrice close around the throat and simply lapped under the chin, not
+knotted. The upper end hung from twelve to sixteen inches long. The other
+and longer end was carried down to a low waistline and tucked in between
+the buttons of the waistcoat. Often the free end of this scarf was trimmed
+with lace or cut-work; indeed, the whole scarf might be of embroidery or
+lace, but the simpler lawn or mull appears to have been in better taste.
+This tie is seen in this portrait of Thomas Fayerweather, by Smybert, and
+in modified forms on many other pages.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Thomas_Fayerweather."></a>
+<img src="images\240.png" alt="Thomas Fayerweather.">
+<H4>Thomas Fayerweather.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>We now find constant references to the Steinkirk, a new cravat. As we
+see it frequently stated that the Steinkirk was a black tie, I may state
+here that all the Steinkirks I have seen have been white. I know no
+portraits with black neck-cloths. I find no allusions in old-time
+literature or letters to black Steinkirks.</p>
+
+<p>A Steinkirk was a white cravat, not knotted, but fastened so loosely as
+to seem folded rather than tied, twisted sometimes twice or thrice, with
+one or both ends passed through a buttonhole of the coat. Ladies wore them,
+as well as men, arranged with equal appearance of careless negligence; and
+the soft diagonal folds of linen and lace made a pretty finish at the
+throat, as pretty as any high neck-dressing could be. These cravats were
+called Steinkirks after the battle of Steinkirk, when some of the French
+princes, not having time to perform an elaborate toilet before going into
+action, hurriedly twisted their lace cravats about their necks and pulled
+them through a buttonhole, simply to fix them safely in place. The
+fashionable world eagerly followed their example. It is curious that the
+Steinkirk should have been popular in England, where the name might rather
+have been a bitter avoidance.</p>
+
+<p>The battle of Steinkirk took place in 1694. An early English allusion to
+the neckwear thus named is in <i>The Relapse</i>, which was acted in 1697.
+In it the Semstress says, &quot;I hope your Lordship is pleased with your
+Steenkirk.&quot; His Lordship answers with eloquence, &quot;In love with
+it, stap my vitals! Bring your bill, you shall be paid tomorrow!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Steinkirk, both for men's and women's wear, came to America very
+promptly, and was soon widely worn. The dashing, handsome figure of young
+King Carter gives an illustration of the pretty studied negligence of the
+Steinkirk. I have seen a Steinkirk tie on at least twenty portraits of
+American gentlemen, magistrates, and officers; some of them were the royal
+governors, but many were American born and bred, who never visited Europe,
+but turned eagerly to English fashions.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="&quot;King&quot;_Carter_in_Youth,_by_Sir_Godfrey_Kneller."></a>
+<img src="images\242.png" alt="&quot;King&quot; Carter in Youth, by Sir Godfrey Kneller.">
+<H4>&quot;King&quot; Carter in Youth, by Sir Godfrey Kneller.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Certain old families have preserved among their ancient treasures a very
+long oval brooch with a bar across it from end to end--the longest way of
+the brooch. These are set sometimes with topaz or moonstone, garnet,
+marcasite, heliotropium, or paste jewels. Many wonder for what purpose
+these were used. They were to hold the lace Steinkirk in place, when it was
+not pulled through the buttonhole. The bar made it seem like a tongueless
+buckle--or perhaps it was like a long, narrow buckle to which a brooch pin
+had been affixed to keep it firmly in place.</p>
+
+<p>The cravat, tied and twisted in Steinkirk form, or more simply folded,
+long held its place in fashionable dress.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The stock with buckle made of paste<br>
+Has put the cravat out of date,&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>wrote Whyte in 1742.</p>
+
+<p>With this quotation we will turn from neckwear until a later period.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="#VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS</h3>
+
+<blockquote><i>&quot;So many poynted cappes<br>
+Lased with double flaps<br>
+And soe gay felted cappes<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Saw I never.<br>
+<br>
+&quot;So propre cappes<br>
+So lyttle hattes<br>
+And so false hartes<br>
+Saw I never.&quot;<br></i>
+<br>
+--&quot;The Maner of the World Nowe-a-dayes,&quot; JOHN SKELTON, 1548.<br>
+<br><br>
+
+&quot;<i>The Turk in linen wraps his head<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The Persian his in lawn, too,<br>
+The Russ with sables furs his cap<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And change will not be drawn to.<br>
+<br>
+&quot;The Spaniard's constant to his block<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The Frenchman inconstant ever;<br>
+But of all felts that may be felt<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Give me the English beaver.<br>
+<br>
+&quot;The German loves his coney-wool<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The Irishman his shag, too,<br>
+The Welsh his Monmouth loves to wear<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And of the same will brag, too&quot;</i><br>
+<br>
+--&quot;A Challenge for Beauty,&quot; THOMAS HAYWARD<br></blockquote>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>CAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS</h3>
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\245a.png" align=left
+alt="A">ny student of English history and letters would know that caps
+would positively be part of the outfit of every emigrating Englishman. A
+cap was, for centuries, both the enforced and desired headwear of English
+folk of quiet lives.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="City_Flat-cap"></a>
+<img src="images\245.png" alt="City Flat-cap worn by &quot;Bilious&quot; Bale.">
+<H4>City Flat-cap worn by &quot;Bilious&quot; Bale.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Belgic Britons, Welshmen, Irish, Anglo-Saxons, Danes, and Normans all
+had worn caps, as well as ancient Greeks and Romans. These English caps had
+been of divers colors and manifold forms, some being grotesque indeed. When
+we reach the reign of Henry VIII we are made familiar in the paintings of
+Holbein with a certain flat-cap which sometimes had a small jewel or
+leather or a double fold, but never varied greatly. This was known as the
+city flat-cap.</p>
+
+<p>It is shown also in the Holbein portrait of Adam Winthrop, grandfather
+of Governor John Winthrop; he was a man of dignity, Master of the Cloth
+Workers' Guild.</p>
+
+<p>The muffin-cap of the boys of Christ's Hospital is a form of this
+cap.</p>
+
+<p>This was at first and ever a Londoner's cap. A poet wrote in 1630:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Flat caps as proper are to city gowns<br>
+As to armour, helmets, or to kings, their crowns.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Winthrop also wears the city gown.</p>
+
+<p>This flat-cap was often of gay colors, scarlet being a favorite hue.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Behold the bonnet upon my head<br>
+A staryng colour of scarlet red<br>
+I promise you a fyne thred<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And a soft wool<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It cost a noble.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>These lines were written for the character &quot;Pride,&quot; in the
+<i>Interlude of Nature</i>, before the year 1500.</p>
+
+<p>A statute was passed in 1571, &quot;If any person above six years of age
+(except maidens, ladies, gentlemen, nobles, knights, gentlemen of twenty
+marks by year in lands, and their heirs, and such as have born office of
+worship) have not worn upon the Sunday or holyday (except it be in the time
+of his travell out of the city, town or hamlet where he dwelleth) one cap
+of wool, knit, thicked and dressed in England, and only dressed and
+furnished by some of the trade of cappers, shall be fined &pound;3 4d. for
+each day's transgression.&quot; The caps thus worn were called Statute
+caps.</p>
+
+<p>This was, of course, to encourage wool-workers in the pride of the
+nation. Winthrop, master of a guild whose existence depended on wool,
+would, of course, wear a woollen cap had he not been a Londoner. It was a
+plain head-covering, but it was also the one worn by King Edward VI.</p>
+
+<p>There was a formal coif or cap worn by men of dignity; always worn, I
+think, by judges and elderly lawyers, ere the assumption of the formal wig.
+This coif may be seen on the head of the venerable Dr. Dee, and also on the
+head of Lord Burleigh, and of Thomas Cecil, surmounted with the citizen's
+flat-cap. One of these caps in heavy black lustring lingered by chance in
+my home--worn by some forgotten ancestor. It had a curious loop, as may be
+seen on Dr. Dee. This was not a narrow string for tying the coif on the
+head; it was a loop. And if there was any need of fastening the cap on the
+head, a narrow ribbon or ferret, a lacing, was put through both loops.</p>
+
+<p>In the inventory of the apparel of the first settlers which I have given
+in the early pages of this book, we find that each colonist to the
+Massachusetts Bay settlement had one Monmouth cap and five red milled caps.
+All the lists of necessary clothing for the planters have as an item, caps;
+but a well-made, well-lined hat was also supplied.</p>
+
+<p>Monmouth caps were in general wear in England. Thomas Fuller said,
+&quot;Caps were the most ancient, general, warm, and profitable coverings
+of men's heads in this Island.&quot; In making them thousands of people
+were employed, especially before the invention of fulling-mills, when caps
+were wrought, beaten, and thickened by the hands and feet of men.
+Cap-making afforded occupation to fifteen different callings: carders,
+spinners, knitters, parters of wool, forcers, thickers, dressers, walkers,
+dyers, battellers, shearers, pressers, edgers, liners, and band-makers.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="King_James_I_of_England."></a>
+<img src="images\248.png" alt="King James I of England.">
+<H4>King James I of England.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The Monmouth caps were worth two shillings each, which were furnished to
+the Massachusetts colonists. These were much affected by seafaring men. We
+read, in <i>A Satyr on Sea Officers</i>, &quot;With Monmouth cap and
+cutlass at my side, striding at least a yard at every stride.&quot;
+&quot;The Ballad of the Caps,&quot; 1656, gives a wonderful list of caps.
+Among them are:</p>
+
+<blockquote>The Monmouth Cap, the Saylors thrum,<br>
+And that wherein the tradesmen come,<br>
+The Physick, Lawe, the Cap divine,<br>
+And that which crowns the Muses nine,<br>
+The Cap that Fools do countenance,<br>
+The goodly Cap of Maintenance,<br>
+And any Cap what e're it be,<br>
+Is still the sign of some degree.<br>
+<br>
+&quot;The sickly Cap both plaine and wrought,<br>
+The Fuddling-cap however bought,<br>
+The quilted, furred, the velvet, satin,<br>
+For which so many pates learn Latin,<br>
+The Crewel Cap, the Fustian pate,<br>
+The Perriwig, the Cap of Late,<br>
+And any Cap what e'er it be<br>
+Is still the sign of some degree.&quot;<br>
+<br>
+--&quot;Ballad of the Caps,&quot; 1656.<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>We seldom have in manuscript or print, in America, titles or names given
+to caps or hats, but one occasionally seen is the term
+&quot;montero-cap,&quot; spelled also mountero, montiro, montearo; and
+Washington Irving tells of &quot;the cedar bird with a little mon-teiro-cap
+of feathers.&quot; Montero-caps were frequently recommended to emigrants,
+and useful dress they were, being a horseman's or huntsman's cap with a
+simple round crown, and a flap which went around the sides and back of the
+cap and which could be worn turned up or brought down over the back of the
+neck, the ears and temples, thus making a most protecting head-covering.
+They were, in general, dark colored, of substantial woollen stuff, but
+Sterne writes in Tristram Shandy of a montero-cap which he describes as of
+superfine Spanish cloth, dyed scarlet in the grain, mounted all round with
+fur, except four inches in front, which was faced with light blue lightly
+embroidered. It is a montero-cap which is seen on the head of Bamfylde
+Moore Carew, the &quot;King of the Mumpers,&quot; a most genial English
+rogue, sneak-thief, and cheat of the eighteenth century, who spent some of
+his ill-filled years in the American colonies, whither he was brought after
+being trepanned, and where he had to bear the ignominy of wearing an iron
+collar welded around his neck.</p>
+
+<p>A montero-cap seems to have been the favorite dress of rogues. In Head's
+<i>English Rogue</i> we read, &quot;Beware of him that rides in a
+montero-cap and of him that whispers oft.&quot; The picaro Guzman wore one;
+and as montero is the Spanish word for huntsman, Head may have obtained the
+word from that special scamp, Guzman, whose life was published in 1633. It
+is a very ancient name, being given in Cotgrave as a hood, or as the
+horseman's helmet. It is worn still by Arctic travellers and Alpine
+climbers. Sets of knitted montero-caps were presented by the Empress
+Eugenie to the Arctic expedition of 1875, and the Jackies dubbed them
+&quot;Eugenie Wigs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Another and widely different class of men wore likewise the montero-cap,
+the English and American Quakers. Thomas Ellwood, in the early days of his
+Quaker belief, suffered much for his hat, both from his fellow Quakers and
+his father, a Church of England man. The Quakers thought his &quot;large
+Mountier cap of black velvet, the skirt of which being turned up in Folds
+looked somewhat above the common Garb of a Quaker.&quot; A young priest at
+another time snatched this montero-cap off because he wore it in the
+presence of magistrates, and then Ellwood's father fell upon it in this
+wise:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;He could not contain himself but running upon me with
+both hands, first violently snatcht off my Hat and threw it away and then
+giving me some buffets in the head said Sirrah get you up to your chamber.
+I had now lost one hat and had but one more. The next Time my Father saw
+it on my head he tore it violently from me and laid it up with the other,
+I know not where. Wherefore I put my Mountier Cap which was all I had left
+to wear on my head, and but a little while I had that, for when my Father
+came where I was, I lost that also.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Fulke_Greville_(Lord_Brooke)."></a>
+<img src="images\251.png" alt="Fulke Greville (Lord Brooke).">
+<H4>Fulke Greville (Lord Brooke).</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Finally the father refused to let him wear his &quot;Hive,&quot; as he
+called the hat, at the table while eating, and thereafter Ellwood ate with
+his father's servants.</p>
+
+<p>The vogue of beaver hats was an important factor in the settlement of
+America.</p>
+
+<p>The first Spanish, Dutch, English, and French colonists all came to
+America to seek for gold and furs. The Spaniards found gold, the Dutch and
+French found furs, but the English who found fish found the greatest wealth
+of all, for food is ever more than raiment.</p>
+
+<p>Of the furs the most important and most valuable was beaver. The English
+sent some beaver back to Europe; the very first ship to return from
+Plymouth carried back two hogsheads. Winslow sent twenty hogsheads as early
+as 1634, and Bradford shows that the trade was deemed important. But the
+wild creatures speedily retreated. Johnson declares that as early as 1645
+the beaver trade had left the frontier post of Springfield, on the
+Connecticut River.</p>
+
+<p>From the earliest days both the French and English crown had treated the
+fishing and fur industries with unusual discretion, giving a monopoly to
+the fur trade and leaving the fisheries free, so the latter constantly
+increased, while in New England the fur trade passed over to the Dutch,
+distinctly to the advantage of the English, for the lazy trader at a post
+was neither a good savage nor a good citizen, while the hardy fishermen and
+bold sailors of New England brought wealth to every town. For some years
+the Dutch appeared to have the best of it, for they received ten to fifteen
+thousand beaver skins annually from New England; and they had trading-posts
+on Narragansett and Buzzards Bay. Still the trade drew the Dutch away from
+agriculture, and the real success of New Netherland did not come with furs,
+but with corn.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="James_Douglas_(Earl_of_Morton)."></a>
+<img src="images\253.png" alt="James Douglas (Earl of Morton).">
+<H4>James Douglas (Earl of Morton).</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The fur trade was certainly an interesting factor in the growth of the
+Dutch settlement. Fort Orange, or Albany, called the <i>Fuyck</i>, was the
+natural topographical <i>fuyck</i> or trap-net to catch this trade, and in
+the very first season of its settlement fifteen hundred beaver and five
+hundred otter skins were despatched to Holland. In 1657 Johannes Dyckman
+asserted that 40,900 beaver and otter skins were sent that year from Fort
+Orange to Fort Amsterdam (New York City). As these skins were valued at
+from eight to ten guilders apiece (about $3.50 and with a purchasing value
+equal to $20 to-day), it can readily be seen what a source of wealth seemed
+opened. The authorities at Fort Orange, the patroons of Renssalaerwyck and
+Beverwyck, were not to be permitted to absorb all this wondrous gain in
+undisturbed peace. The increment of the India Company was diverted and
+hindered in various ways. Unscrupulous and crafty citizens of Fort Orange
+(independent <i>handaelers</i> or handlers) and their thrifty,
+penny-turning <i>vrouws</i> decoyed the Indian trappers and hunters into
+their peaceful, honest kitchens under pretence of kindly Christian welcome
+to the peltry-bearing braves; and they filled the guileless savages with
+Dutch schnapps, or Barbadoes &quot;kill-devil,&quot; until the befuddled or
+half-crazed Indians parted with their precious stores of hard-trapped skins
+and threw off their well-perspired and greased beaver coats and exchanged
+them for such valuable Dutch wares as knives, scissors, beads, and
+jews'-harps, or even a few pints of quickly vanishing rum, instead of solid
+Dutch guilders or substantial Dutch blankets. And even before these
+strategic Dutch citizens could corral and fleece them, the incoming
+fur-bearers had to run as insinuating a gantlet of <i>boschloopers</i>,
+bush-runners, drummers, or &quot;broakers,&quot; who sallied out on the
+narrow Indian paths to buy the coveted furs even before they were brought
+into Fort Orange. Much legislation ensued. Scout-buying was prohibited.
+Citizens were forbidden &quot;to addresse to speak to the wilden of
+trading,&quot; or to entice them to &quot;traffique,&quot; or to harbor
+them over night. Indian houses to lodge the trappers were built just
+outside the gate, where the dickering would be public. These were built by
+rates collected from all &quot;Christian dealers&quot; in furs.</p>
+
+<p>But Indian paths were many, and the water-ways were unpatrolled, and
+kitchen doors could be slyly opened in the dusk; so the government, in
+spite of laws and shelter-houses, did not get all the beaver skins. Too
+many were eager for the lucrative and irregular trade; agricultural
+pursuits were alarmingly neglected; other communities became rivals, and
+the beavers soon were exterminated from the valley of the Hudson, and by
+1660 the Fort Orange trade was sadly diminished. The governor of Canada had
+an itching palm, and lured the Indians--and beaver skins--to Montreal. Thus
+&quot;impaired by French wiles,&quot; scarce nine thousand peltries came in
+1687 to Fort Orange. With a few fluttering rallies until Revolutionary
+times the fur trade of Albany became extinct; it passed from both Dutch and
+French, and was dominated by the Hudson Bay Fur Company.</p>
+
+<p>So clear a description of the fur of the beaver and the use of the pelt
+was given by Adriaen van der Donck, who lived at Fort Orange from the year
+1641 to 1646, and traded for years with the Indians, that it is well to
+give his exact words:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The beaver's skin is rough but thickly set with fine fur
+of an ash-gray color inclining to blue. The outward points also incline
+to a russet or brown color. From the fur of the beaver the best hats are
+made that are worn. They are called beavers or castoreums from the
+material of which they are made, and they are known by this name over all
+Europe. Outside of the coat of fur many shining hairs appear called
+wind-hairs, which are more properly winter-hairs, for they fall out in
+summer and appear again in winter. The outer coat is of a chestnut-brown
+color, the browner the color the better is the fur. Sometimes it will be a
+little reddish.<br> <br> &quot;When hats are made of the fur, the rough
+hairs are pulled out for they are useless. The skins are usually first
+sent to Russia, where they are highly valued for their outside shining
+hair, and on this their greatest recommendation depends with the Russians.
+The skins are used there for mantle-linings and are also cut into strips
+for borders, as we cut rabbit-skins. Therefore we call the same peltries.
+Whoever has there the most and costliest fur-trimmings is deemed a person
+of very high rank, as with us the finest stuffs and gold and silver
+embroideries are regarded as the appendages of the great. After the hairs
+have fallen out, or are worn, and the peltries become old and dirty and
+apparently useless, we get the article back, and convert the fur into
+hats, before which it cannot be well used for this purpose, for unless the
+beaver has been worn, and is greasy and dirty, it will not felt properly,
+hence these old peltries are the most valuable. The coats which the
+Indians make of beaver-skins and which they have worn for a long time
+around their bodies until the skins have become foul with perspiration and
+grease are afterwards used by the hatters and make the best
+hats.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>One notion about beaver must be told. Its great popularity for many
+years arose, it is conjectured, from its original use as a cap for curative
+purposes. Such a beaver cap would &quot;unfeignedly&quot; recover to a man
+his hearing, and stimulate his memory to a wonder, especially if the
+&quot;oil of castor&quot; was rubbed in his hair.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Elihu_Yale."></a>
+<img src="images\257.png" alt="Elihu Yale.">
+<H4>Elihu Yale.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The beaver hat was for centuries a choice and costly article of dress;
+it went through many bizarre forms. On the head of Henry IV of France and
+Navarre, as made known in his portrait, is a hat which effectually destroys
+all possibility of dignity. It is a bell-crowned stove-pipe, of the precise
+shape worn later by coachmen and by dandies about the years 1820 to 1830.
+It is worn very much over one royal ear, like the hat of a well-set-up,
+self-important coachman of the palmy days of English coaching, and gives an
+air of absurd modernity and cockney importance to the picture of a king of
+great dignity. The hat worn by James I, ere he was King of England, is
+shown <a href="#King_James_I_of_England.">here</a>. It is funnier than any
+seen for years in a comic opera. The hat worn by Francis Bacon is a plain
+felt, greatly in contrast with his rich laced triple ruff and cuffs and
+embroidered garments. That of Thomas Cecil <a href="#Thomas_Cecil">here</a>
+varies slightly.</p>
+
+<p>Two very singular shapings of the plain hat may be seen, one <a
+href="#Fulke_Greville_(Lord_Brooke).">here</a> on the head of Fulke
+Greville, where the round-topped, high crown is most disproportionate to
+the narrow brim. The second, <a
+href="#James_Douglas_(Earl_of_Morton).">here</a>, shows an extreme
+sugar-loaf, almost a pointed crown.</p>
+
+<p>A good hat was very expensive, and important enough to be left among
+bequests in a will. They were borrowed and hired for many years, and even
+down to the time of Queen Anne we find the rent of a <i>subscription
+hat</i> to be &pound;2 6s. per annum! The hiring out of a hat does not seem
+strange when hiring out clothes was a regular business with tailors. The
+wife of a person of low estate hired a gown of Queen Elizabeth's to be
+married in. Tailor Thomas Gylles complained of the Yeoman of the queen's
+wardrobe for suffering this. He writes, &quot;The copper cloth of gold
+gowns which were made last, and another, were sent into the country for the
+marriage of Lord Montague.&quot; The bequest of half-worn garments was
+highly regarded. On the very day of Darnley's funeral, Mary Queen of Scots
+gave his clothes to Bothwell, who sent them to his tailor to be refitted.
+The tailor, bold with the riot and disorder of the time, returned them with
+the impudent message that &quot;the duds of dead men were given to the
+hangman.&quot; The duds of men who were hanged were given to the hangman
+almost as long as hangings took place. A poor New England girl, hanged for
+the murder of her child, went to the scaffold in her meanest attire, and
+taunted the executioner that he would get but a poor suit of clothes from
+her. The last woman hanged in Massachusetts wore a white satin gown, which
+I expect the sheriff's daughter much revelled in the following winter at
+dancing-parties.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Thomas_Cecil"></a>
+<img src="images\259.png" alt="Thomas Cecil.">
+<H4>Thomas Cecil.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Old Philip Stubbes has given us a wonderful description of English
+head-gear:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;HATS OF SUNDRIE FATIONS&quot;</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote> &quot;Sometymes they vse them sharpe on the Croune, pearking
+vp like the Spire, or Shaft of a Steeple, standyng a quarter of a yarde
+aboue the Croune of their heades, somemore, some lesse, as please the
+phantasies of their inconstant mindes. Othersome be flat and broad on the
+Crowne, like the battlemetes of a house. An other sorte haue rounde
+Crownes, sometymes with one kinde of Band, sometymes with another, now
+black, now white, now russet, now red, now grene, now yellowe, now this,
+now that, never content with one colour or fashion two daies to an ende.
+And thus in vanitie they spend the Lorde his treasure, consuming their
+golden yeres and siluer daies in wickednesse and sinne. And as the
+fashions bee rare and strange, so is the stuffe whereof their hattes be
+made divers also; for some are of Silke, some of Veluet, some of Taffatie,
+some of Sarcenet, some of Wooll, and, whiche is more curious, some of a
+certaine kinde of fine Haire; these they call Bever hattes, or xx. xxx. or
+xl. shillinges price, fetched from beyonde the seas, from whence a greate
+sorte of other vanities doe come besides. And so common a thing it is,
+that euery seruyngman, countrieman, and other, euen all indefferently,
+dooe weare of these hattes. For he is of no account or estimation amongst
+men if he haue not a Veluet or Taffatie hatte, and that must be Pincked,
+and Cunnyngly Carved of the beste fashion. And good profitable hattes be
+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 sprong vp
+amongst them, which they father vpon a Frenchman, namely, to weare them
+with bandes, but how vnsemely (I will not saie how hassie) a fashion that
+is let the wise judge; notwithstanding, howeuer it be, if it please them,
+it shall not displease me.</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;And another sort (as phantasticall as the rest) are
+content with no kinde of hat without a greate Bunche of Feathers of diuers
+and sondrie Colours, peakyng on top of their heades, not vnlike (I dare
+not saie) Cockescombes, but as sternes of pride, and ensignes of vanity.
+And yet, notwithstanding these Flutterying Sailes, and Feathered Flagges
+of defiaunce of Vertue (for so they be) are so advanced that euery child
+hath them in his Hat or Cap; many get good liuing by dying and selling of
+them, and not a few proue the selues more than Fooles in wearyng of
+them.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding this list of Stubbes, it is very curious to note that in
+general the shape of the real beaver hat remained the same as long as it
+was worn uncocked.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Cornelius_Steinwyck."></a>
+<img src="images\261.png" alt="Cornelius Steinwyck.">
+<H4>Cornelius Steinwyck.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The hat was worn much more constantly within-doors than in the present
+day. Pepys states that they were worn in church; even the preacher wore his
+hat. Hats were removed in the presence of royalty. An hereditary honor and
+privilege granted to one of my ancestors was that he might wear his hat
+before the king.</p>
+
+<p>It is somewhat difficult to find out the exact date when the wearing of
+hats by men within-doors ceased to be fashionable and became distinctly low
+bred. We can turn to contemporary art. In 1707 at a grand banquet given in
+France to the Spanish Embassy, a ceremonious state affair with the women in
+magnificent full-dress, the men seated at the table and in the presence of
+royalty wore their cocked hats--so much for courtly France.</p>
+
+<p>This wearing of the hat in church, at table, and elsewhere that seems
+now strange to us, was largely as an emblem of dignity and authority. Miss
+Moore in the <i>Caldwell Papers</i> writes of her grandfather:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I' my grandfather's time, as I have heard him tell, ilka
+maister of a family had his ain seat in his ain house; aye, and sat there
+with his hat on, afore the best in the land; and had his ain dish, and was
+aye helpit first and keepit up his authority as a man should so. Parents
+were parents then; and bairns dared not set up their gabs afore them as
+they do now.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>That the covering of the head in church still has a significance on
+important occasions, is shown by a rubric from the &quot;Form and
+Order&quot; for the Coronation of King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra; this
+provides that the king remains uncovered during the saying of the Litany
+and the beginning of the Communion Service, but when the sermon begun that
+he should put on his &quot;Cap of crimson velvet turned up with Ermine, and
+so continue,&quot; to the end of the discourse.</p>
+
+<p>Hatbands were just as important for men's hats as women's--especially
+during the years of the reign of James I. Endymion Porter had his wife's
+diamond necklace to wear on his hat in Spain. It probably looked like paste
+beside the gorgeousness of the Duke of Buckingham, who had &quot;the Mirror
+of France,&quot; a great diamond, the finest in England, &quot;to wear
+alone in your hat with a little blacke feather,&quot; so the king wrote
+him. A more curious hat ornament was a glove.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Hat_with_a_Glove_as_a_Favor."></a>
+<img src="images\263.png" alt="Hat with a Glove as a Favor.">
+<H4>Hat with a Glove as a Favor.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>This handsome hat is from a portrait of George, Earl of Cumberland. It
+has a woman's glove as a favor. This is said to have been a gift of Queen
+Elizabeth after his prowess in a tournament. He always wore this glove on
+state occasions. Gloves were worn on a hat in three meanings: as a memorial
+of a dead friend, as a favor of a mistress, or as a mark of challenge. A
+pretty laced or tasselled handkerchief was also a favor and was worn like a
+cockade.</p>
+
+<p>An excellent representation of the Cavalier hat may be seen on the
+figure of Oliver Cromwell <a
+href="#Cromwell_dissolving_Parliament.">(here</a>), which shows him
+dismissing Parliament. Cornelius Steinwyck's flat-leafed hat has no
+feather.</p>
+
+<p>The steeple-crowned hat of both men and women was in vogue in the second
+half of the seventeenth century in both England and America, at the time
+when the witchcraft tragedies came to a culmination. The long scarlet cloak
+was worn at the same date. It is evident that the conventional witch of
+to-day, an old woman in scarlet cloak and steeple-crowned hat, is a relic
+of that day. Through the striking circumstances and the striking dress was
+struck off a figurative type which is for all time.</p>
+
+<p>William Kempe of &quot;Duxburrow&quot; in 1641 left hats, hat-boxes,
+rich hatbands, bone laces, leather hat-cases; also ten &quot;capps.&quot;
+Hats were also made of cloth. In the tailor's bill of work done for
+Jonathan Corwin of Salem, in 1679, we read &quot;To making a Broadcloth
+Hatt 14s. To making 2 hatts &amp; 2 jackets for your two sonnes 19s.&quot;
+In 1672 an association of Massachusetts hatters asked privileges and
+protection from the colonial government to aid and encourage American
+manufacture, but they were refused until they made better hats. Shortly
+after, however, the exportation of raccoon fur to England was forbidden, or
+taxed, as it was found to be useful in the home manufacture of hats.</p>
+
+<p>The eighteenth century saw many and varied forms of the cocked hat; the
+nineteenth returned to a straight crown and brim. The description of these
+will be given in the due course of the narrative of this book.</p>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="#VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE VENERABLE HOOD</h3>
+<blockquote><i>&quot;Paul saith, that a woman ought to have a Power on her
+head. This Power that some of them have is disguised gear and strange
+fashions. They must wear French Hoods--and I cannot tell you--I--what to
+call it. And when they make them ready and come to the Covering of their
+Head they will say, 'Give me my French Hood, and Give me my Bonnet or my
+Cap.' Now here is a Vengeance-Devil; we must have our Power from Turkey of
+Velvet, and gay it must be; far-fetched and dear-bought; and when it
+cometh it is a False Sign.&quot;</i><br> <br> --Sermon, ARCHBISHOP
+LATIMER, 1549.<br> <br><br> <i>&quot;Hoods are the most ancient covering
+for the head and far more elegant and useful than the more modern fashion
+of hats, which present a useless elevation, and leave the neck and ears
+completely exposed.&quot;</i><br> <br> --&quot;Glossary of Ecclesiastical
+Ornament and Costume,&quot; PUGIN, 1868.<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE VENERABLE HOOD</h3>
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\initialw.png" align=left
+alt="W">e are told by the great Viollet le Duc that the faces of
+fifteenth-century women were of a uniform type. Certainly a uniform
+head-dress tends to establish a seeming resemblance of the wearers; the
+strange, steeple head-dress of that century might well have that effect;
+and the &quot;French hood&quot; worn so many years by English, French, and
+American women has somewhat the same effect on women's countenances; it
+gives a uniformity of severity. It is difficult for a face to be pretty and
+gay under this gloomy hood. This French hood is plainly a development of
+the head-rail, which was simply an unshaped oblong strip of linen or stuff
+thrown over the head, and with the ends twisted lightly round the neck or
+tied loosely under the chin with whatever grace or elegance the individual
+wearer possessed.</p>
+
+<p>Varying slightly from reign to reign, yet never greatly changed, this
+sombre plain French hood was worn literally for centuries. It was deemed so
+grave and dignified a head-covering that, in the reign of Edward III, women
+of ill carriage were forbidden the wearing of it.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Gulielma_Penn."></a>
+<img src="images\267.png" alt="Gulielma Penn.">
+<H4>Gulielma Penn.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In the year 1472 &quot;Raye Hoods,&quot; that is, striped hoods, were
+enjoined in several English towns as the distinctive wear of women of ill
+character. And in France this black hood was under restriction; only ladies
+of the French court were permitted to wear velvet hoods, and only women of
+station and dignity, black hoods.</p>
+
+<p>This black hood was dignified in allegorical literature as &quot;the
+venerable hood,&quot; and was ever chosen by limners to cover the head of
+any woman of age or dignity who was to be depicted.</p>
+
+<p>In the <i>Ladies' Dictionary</i> a hood is defined thus: &quot;A Dutch
+attire covering the head, face and all the body.&quot; And the long cloak
+with this draped hood, which must have been much like the Shaker cloak of
+to-day, seems to have been deemed a Dutch garment. It was warm and
+comfortable enough to be adopted readily by the English Pilgrims in
+Holland. It had come to England, however, in an earlier century. Of Ellinor
+Rummin, the alewife, Skelton wrote about the year 1500:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;A Hake of Lincoln greene<br>
+It had been hers I weene<br>
+More than fortye yeare<br>
+And soe it doth appeare<br>
+And the green bare threds<br>
+Looked like sere wedes<br>
+Withered like hay<br>
+The wool worn awaye<br>
+And yet I dare saye<br>
+She thinketh herself gaye<br>
+Upon a holy day.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>It is impossible to know how old this hood is. When I have fancied I had
+the earliest reference that could be found, I would soon come to another a
+few years earlier. We know positively from the <i>Lisle Papers</i> that it
+was worn in England by the name &quot;French hood&quot; in 1540. Anne
+Basset, daughter of Lady Lisle, had come into the household of the queen of
+Henry VIII, who at the time was Anne of Cleves. The &quot;French
+Apparell&quot; which the maid of honor fetched from Calais was not pleasing
+to the queen, who promptly ordered the young girl to wear &quot;a velvet
+bonnet with a frontlet and edge of pearls.&quot; These bonnets are familiar
+to us on the head of Anne's predecessor, Anne Boleyn. They were worn even
+by young children. One is shown <a href="#Lady_Anne_Clifford.">here</a>.
+The young lady borrowed a bonnet; and a factor named Husee--the biggest
+gossip of his day--promptly chronicles to her mother, &quot;I saw her (Anne
+Basset) yesterday in her velvet bonnet that my Lady Sussex had tired her
+in, and thought it became her nothing so well as the French hood,--but the
+Queen's pleasure must be done!&quot;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Hannah_Callowhill_Penn."></a>
+<img src="images\269.png" alt="Hannah Callowhill Penn.">
+<H4>Hannah Callowhill Penn.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Doubtless some of the Pilgrim Mothers wore bonnets like this one of Anne
+Basset's, especially if the wearer were a widow, when there was also an
+under frontlet which was either plain, plaited, or folded, but which came
+in a distinct point in the middle of the forehead.</p>
+
+<p>This cap, or bandeau, with point on the forehead, is precisely the
+widow's cap worn by Catherine de Medicis. She was very severe in dress, but
+she introduced the wearing of neck-ruffs. She also wore hoods, the favorite
+head-covering of all Frenchwomen at that time. This form of head-gear was
+sometimes called a widow's peak, on account of a similar peak of black silk
+or white being often worn by widows, apparently of all European nations.
+Magdalen Beeckman, an American woman of Dutch descent (<a
+href="#Mrs._Magdalen_Beekman.">here</a>), wears one. The name is still
+applied to a pointed growth of hair on the forehead. It has also been known
+as a headdress of Mary Queen of Scots, because some of her portraits
+display this pointed outline of head-gear. It continued until the time of
+Charles II. It is often found on church brasses, and was plainly a
+head-gear of dignity. A modified form is shown in the portrait of Lady Mary
+Armine.</p>
+
+<p>Stubbes in his <i>Anatomie of Abuses</i> gives a notion of the
+importance of the French hood when he speaks of the straining of all
+classes for rich attire: that &quot;every artificer's wife&quot; will not
+go without her hat of velvet every day; &quot;every merchant's wife and
+meane gentlewoman&quot; must be in her &quot;French hood&quot;; and
+&quot;every poor man's daughter&quot; in her &quot;taffatie hat or of wool
+at least.&quot; We have seen what a fierce controversy burned over Madam
+Johnson's &quot;schowish&quot; velvet hood.</p>
+
+<p>An excellent account of this black hood as worn by the Puritans is given
+in rhyme in &quot;Hudibras <i>Redivivus</i>,&quot; a long poem utterly
+worthless save for the truthful descriptions of dress; it runs:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The black silk Hood, with formal pride<br>
+First roll'd, beneath the chin was tied<br>
+So close, so very trim and neat,<br>
+So round, so formal, so complete,<br>
+That not one jag of wicked lace<br>
+Or rag of linnen white had place<br>
+Betwixt the black bag and the face,<br>
+Which peep'd from out the sable hood<br>
+Like Luna from a sullen cloud.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>It was doubtless selected by the women followers of Fox on account of
+its ancient record of sobriety and sanctity.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Are the pinch'd cap and formal hood the emblems of
+sanctity? Does your virtue consist in your dress, Mrs.
+Prim?&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>writes Mrs. Centlivre in <i>A Bold Stroke for a Wife</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The black hood was worn long by Quaker women ere they adopted the beaver
+hat of the eighteenth century, and the poke-bonnet of the nineteenth
+century. <a href="#Hannah_Callowhill_Penn.">Here</a> is given a portrait of
+Hannah Callowhill Penn, a Quaker, the second wife of William Penn. She was
+a sensible woman brought up in a home where British mercantile thrift vied
+with Quaker belief in adherence to sober attire, and her portrait plainly
+shows her character. Penn's young and pretty wife of his youth wears a
+fashionable pocket-hoop and rich brocade dress; but she wears likewise the
+simple black hood (<a href="#Gulielma_Penn.">here</a>).</p>
+
+<p>The dominance of this black French hood came not, however, through its
+wear by sober-faced, discreet English Puritans and Quakers, but through a
+French influence, a court influence, the earnestness of its adoption by
+Madame de Maintenon, wife of King Louis XIV of France. The whole dress of
+this strange ascetic would by preference have been that of a penitent; but
+the king had a dislike of anything like mourning, so she wore dresses of
+some dark color other than black, generally a dull brown. The conventual
+aspect of her attire was added to by this large black hood, which was her
+constant wear, and is seen in her portraits. The life at court became
+melancholy, dejected, filled with icy reserve. And Madame, whether she rode
+&quot;shut up in a close chair,&quot; says Duclos, &quot;to avoid the least
+breath of air, while the King walked by her side, taking off his hat each
+time he stopped to speak to her&quot;; or when she attended services in the
+chapel, sitting in a closed gallery; or even in her own sombre apartments,
+bending in silence over ecclesiastic needlework,--everywhere, her narrow,
+yellow, livid face was shadowed and buried in this black hood.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Madame_de_Miramion."></a>
+<img src="images\272.png" alt="Madame de Miramion.">
+<H4>Madame de Miramion.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Her strange power over the king was in force in 1681, and, until his
+death in 1715, this sable hood, so unlike the French taste, covered the
+heads of French women of all ages and ranks. The genial, almost quizzical
+countenance of that noble and charitable woman, Madame de Miramion, wears a
+like hood.</p>
+
+<p>This French hood is prominent everywhere in book illustrations of the
+eighteenth century and even of earlier years. The loosely tied corners and
+the sides appear under the straw hats upon many of the figures in Tempest's
+<i>Cryes of London</i>, 1698, such as the Milk woman, the &quot;Newes&quot;
+woman, etc., which publication, I may say in passing, is a wonderful source
+for the student of everyday costume. I give the Strawberry Girl on this
+page to show the ordinary form of the French hood on plain folk.
+<i>Misson's Memories</i>, published also in 1698, it gives the milkmaids on
+Mayday in like hoods. The early editions of Hudibras show these hoods, and
+in Hogarth's works they may be seen; not always of black, of course, in
+later years, but ever of the same shape.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="The_Strawberry_Girl."></a>
+<img src="images\273.png" alt="The Strawberry Girl.">
+<H4>The Strawberry Girl.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The hood worn by the Normans was called a chaperon. It was a sort of
+pointed bag with an oval opening for the face; sometimes the point was of
+great length, and was twisted, folded, knotted. In the Bodleian Library is
+a drawing of eleven figures of young lads and girls playing
+<i>Hoodman-blind</i> or <i>Blindman's-buff</i>. The latter name came from
+the buffet or blow which the players gave with their twisted chaperon
+hoods. The blind man simply put his hood on &quot;hind side afore,&quot;
+and was effectually blinded. These figures are of the fifteenth
+century.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Black_Silk_Hood."></a>
+<img src="images\274.png" alt="Black Silk Hood.">
+<H4>Black Silk Hood.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The wild latitude of spelling often makes it difficult to define an
+article of dress. I have before me a letter of the year 1704, written in
+Boston, asking that a riding-hood be sent from England of any color save
+yellow; and one sentence of the instructions reads thus, &quot;If 'tis
+velvet let it be a shabbaroon; if of cloth, a French hood.&quot; I
+abandoned &quot;shabbaroon&quot; as a wholly lost word; until Mrs. Gummere
+announced that the word was chaperon, from the Norman hood just described.
+This chaperon is specifically the hood worn by the Knights of the Garter
+when in full dress; in general it applies to any ample hood which
+completely covers head and face save for eye-holes. Another hood was the
+sortie.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Quilted_Hood."></a>
+<img src="images\275.png" alt="Quilted Hood.">
+<H4>Quilted Hood.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The term &quot;coif,&quot; spelt in various ways, quoif, quoiffe,
+coiffer, ciffer, quoiffer, has been held to apply to the French hood; but
+it certainly did not in America, for I find often in inventories side by
+side items of black silk hoods and another of quoifs, which I believe were
+the white undercaps worn with the French hood; just as a coif was the close
+undercap for men's wear.</p>
+
+<p>Through the two centuries following the assumption of the French hood
+came a troop of hoods, though sometimes under other names. In 1664 Pepys
+tells of his wife's yellow bird's-eye hood, &quot;very fine, to church, as
+the fashion now is.&quot; Planch&eacute; says hoods were not displaced by
+caps and bonnets till George II's time.</p>
+
+<p>In the list of the &quot;wedding apparell&quot; of Madam Phillips, of
+Boston, are velvet hoods, love-hoods, and &quot;sneal hoods&quot;; hoods of
+Persian, of lustring, of gauze; frequently scarlet hoods are named. In 1712
+Richard Hall sent, from Barbadoes to Boston, a trunk of his deceased wife's
+finery to be sold, among which was &quot;one black Flowered Gauze
+Hoode,&quot; and he added rather spitefully that he &quot;could send better
+but it would be too rich for Boston.&quot; He was a grandson of Madam
+Symonds of Ipswich. Furbelowed gauze hoods were then owned by Boston women,
+and must have been pretty things. Their delicacy has kept them from being
+preserved as have been velvet and Persian hoods.</p>
+
+<p>For the years 1673 to 1721 we have a personal record of domestic life in
+Boston, a diary which is the sole storehouse to which we can turn for
+intimate knowledge of daily deeds in that little town. A scant record it
+is, as to wearing apparel; for the diary-writer, Samuel Sewall, sometime
+business man, friend, neighbor, councillor, judge,--and always
+Puritan,--had not a regard of dress as had his English contemporary, the
+gay Samuel Pepys, or even that sober English gentleman, John Evelyn. In
+Pepys's pages we have frequent and light-giving entries as to dress,
+interested and interesting entries. In Judge Sewall's diary, any references
+to dress are wholly accidental and not related as matters of any moment,
+save one important exception, his attitude toward wigs and wig-wearing. I
+could wish Sewall had had a keener eye for dress, for he wrote in strong,
+well-ordered English; and when he was deeply moved he wrote with much color
+in his pen. The most spirited episodes in the book are the judge's
+remarkable and varied courtships after he was left a widower at the age of
+sixty-five, and again when sixty-eight. While thus courting he makes almost
+his sole reference to women's dress,--that Madam Mico when he called came
+to him in a splendid dress, and that Madam Winthrop's dress, <i>after she
+had refused him</i>, was &quot;not so clean as sometime it had been.&quot;
+But an article of his own dress, nevertheless, formed an important factor
+in his unsuccessful courtship of Madam Winthrop--his hood. When all the
+other widowers of the community, dignified magistrates, parsons, and men of
+professions, all bourgeoned out in stately full-bottomed wigs, what woman
+would want to have a lover who came a-courting in a hood? A detachable hood
+with a cloak, I doubt not he wore, like the one owned by Judge Curwen, his
+associate in that terrible tale of Salem's bigotry, cruelty, and credulity,
+the Witchcraft Trial. I cannot fancy Judge Sewall in a scarlet cloak and
+hood--a sad-colored one seems more in keeping with his temperament.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps our old friend, the judge, wore his hood under his hat, as did
+the sober citizens in Piers Plowman; and as did judges in England.</p>
+
+<p>It is certain that many men wore hoods; and they wore occasionally a
+garment which was really woman's wear, namely, a &quot;riding hood&quot;;
+which was also called a Dutch hood, and was like Elinor Rummin's hake. This
+riding-hood was really more of a cloak than a head-covering, as it often
+had arm-holes. It might well be classed with cloaks. I may say here that it
+is not possible, either by years or by topics, to isolate completely each
+chapter of this book from the other. Its very arrangement, being both by
+chronology and subject, gives me considerable liberty, which I now take in
+this chapter, by retaining the riding-hood among hoods, simply because of
+its name.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Pink_Silk_Hood."></a>
+<img src="images\278.png" alt="Pink Silk Hood.">
+<H4>Pink Silk Hood.</H4>
+</center>
+
+<center>
+<a name="Pug_Hood."></a>
+<img src="images\279.png" alt="Pug Hood.">
+<H4>Pug Hood.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>On May 6, 1717, the <i>Boston News Letter</i> gave a description of a
+gayly attired Indian runaway; she wore off a &quot;red Camblet Ryding Hood
+fac'd with blue.&quot; Another servant absconded with an orange-colored
+riding-hood with arm-holes. I have an ancient pattern of a riding-hood; it
+was found in the bottom of an old hair-covered trunk. It was marked
+&quot;London Ryding Hood.&quot; With it were rolled several packages of
+bits of woollen stuff, one of scarlet broadcloth, one of blue camlet,
+plainly labelled &quot;Cuttings from Apphia's ryding hood&quot; and
+&quot;Pieces from Mary's ryding hood,&quot; showing that they had been
+placed there with the pattern when the hood was cut. It is a cape, cut in a
+deep point in front and back; the extreme length of the points from the
+collar being about twenty-six inches. The hood is precisely like the one on
+Judge Curwen's cloak, like the hoods of Shaker cloaks. As bits of silk are
+rolled with the wool pieces, I infer that these riding-hoods were silk
+lined.</p>
+
+<p>A most romantic name was given to the riding-hood after the battle of
+Preston in 1715. The Earl of Nithsdale, after the defeat of the Jacobites,
+was imprisoned in the Tower of London under sentence of death. From thence
+he made his escape through his wife's coolness and ingenuity. She visited
+him dressed in a large riding-hood which could be drawn closely over her
+face. He escaped in her dress and hood, fled to the continent, and lived
+thirty years in safety in France. After that dashing rescue, these hoods
+were known as Nithsdales. The head-covering portion still resembled the
+French hood, but the shoulder-covering portion was circular and
+ruffled--according to Hogarth. In Durfey's <i>Wit and Mirth</i>, 1719, is a
+spirited song commemorating this &quot;sacred wife,&quot; who--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;by her Wits immortal pains<br>
+With her quick head has saved his brains.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>One verse runs thus:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Let Traitors against Kings conspire<br> Let secret spies
+great Statesmen hire,<br> Nought shall be by detection got<br> If Woman may
+have leave to plot.<br> There's nothing clos'd with Bars or Locks<br> Can
+hinder Night-rayls, Pinners, Smocks;<br> For they will everywhere make
+good<br> As now they've done the Riding-hood.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>In 1737 &quot;pug hoods&quot; were in fashion. We have no proof of their
+shape, though I am told they were the close, plain, silk hood sometimes
+worn under other hoods. One is shown <a href="#Pug_Hood.">here</a>. Pumpkin
+hoods of thickly wadded wool were prodigiously hot head-coverings; they
+were crudely pumpkin shaped. Knitted hoods, under such names as
+&quot;comforters,&quot; &quot;fascinators,&quot; &quot;rigolettes,&quot;
+&quot;nubias,&quot; &quot;opera hoods,&quot; &quot;molly hoods,&quot; are
+of nineteenth-century invention.</p>
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="#IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS</h3>
+<blockquote><i>&quot;Within my memory the Ladies covered their lovely Necks
+with a Cloak, this was exchanged for the Manteel; this again was succeeded
+by the Pelorine; the Pelorine by the Neckatee; the Neckatee by the
+Capuchin, which hath now stood its ground for a long time.&quot;</i><br>
+<br>
+--&quot;Covent Garden Journal,&quot; May 1, 1752.<br>
+<br><br>
+<i>&quot;Mary Wallace and Clemintina Ferguson Just arrived from the
+Kingdom of Ireland intend to follow the business of Mantua making and have
+furnished themselves from London in patterns of the following kinds of
+wear, and have fixed a correspondence so to have from thence the earliest
+Fashions in Miniature. They are at Peter Clarke's within two doors of
+William Walton's, Esq., in the Fly. Ladies and Gentlemen that employ them
+may depend on being expeditiously and reasonably served in making the
+following Articles, that is to say--Sacks, Negligees,
+Negligee-night-gowns, plain-nightgowns, pattanlears, shepherdesses, Roman
+cloaks, Cardinals, Capuchins, Dauphinesses, Shades lorrains, Bonnets and
+Hives.&quot;</i><br> <br> --&quot;New York Mercury,&quot; May,
+1757.<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>CLOAKS AND THEIR COUSINS</h3>
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\initialu.png" align=left
+alt="U">nder the general heading of cloaks I intend to write of the various
+capelike shoulder-coverings, for both men and women, which were worn in the
+two centuries of costume whereof this book treats. Often it is impossible
+to determine whether a garment should be classed as a hood or a cloak, for
+so many cloaks were made with head-coverings. Both capuchins and cardinals,
+garments of popularity for over a century, had hoods, and were worn as
+head-gear.</p>
+
+<p>There is shown <a href="#Scarlet_Broadcloth_Hooded_Cloak.">here</a> a
+full, long cloak of rich scarlet broadcloth, which is the oldest cloak I
+know. It has an interesting and romantic history. No relic in Salem is more
+noteworthy than this. It has survived since witchcraft days; and with right
+care, care such as it receives from its present owner, will last a thousand
+years. It was worn by Judge Curwen, one of the judges in those dark hours
+for Salem; and is still owned by Miss Bessie Curwen, his descendant. It
+will be noted that it bears a close resemblance to the Shaker cloaks of
+to-day, though the hood is handsomer. This hood also is detached from the
+cape. The presiding justice in the Salem witchcraft trials was William
+Stoughton, a severe Puritan. In later years Judge Sewall, his fellow-judge,
+in an agony of contrition, remorse, self-reproach, self-abnegation, and
+exceeding sorrow at those judicial murders, stood in Boston meeting-house,
+at a Sabbath service while his pastor read aloud his confession of his
+cruel error, his expression of his remorse therefor. A striking figure is
+he in our history. No thoughtful person can regard without emotions of
+tenderest sympathy and admiration that benignant white-haired head, with
+black skullcap, bowed in public disgrace, which was really his honor. But
+Judge Stoughton never expressed, in public or private, remorse or even
+regret. I doubt if he ever felt either. He plainly deemed his action right.
+I wish he could tell us what he thinks of it now. In his portrait here he
+wears a skullcap, as does Judge Sewall in his portrait, and a cloak with a
+cape like that of his third associate, Judge Curwen. Judge Sewall had both
+cloak and hood. Possibly all judges wore them. Judge Stoughton's cloak has
+a rich collar and a curious clasp.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Scarlet_Broadcloth_Hooded_Cloak."></a>
+<img src="images\284.png" alt="Scarlet Broadcloth Hooded Cloak.">
+<H4>Scarlet Broadcloth Hooded Cloak.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Stubbes of course told of the fashion of cloak-wearing:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;They have clokes also in nothing discrepant from the
+rest; of dyverse and sundry colours, white red tawnie black, green yellow
+russet purple violet and an infinyte of other colours. Some of cloth silk
+velvet taffetie and such like; some of the Spanish French or Dutch
+fashion. Some short, scarcely reaching to the gyrdlestead or waist, some
+to the knee, and othersome trayling upon the ground almost like gownes
+than clokes. These clokes must be garded laced &amp; thorouly full, and
+sometimes so lined as the inner side standeth almost in as much as the
+outside. Some have sleeves, othersome have none. Some have hoodes to pull
+over the head, some have none. Some are hanged with points and tassels of
+gold silver silk, some without all this. But howsoever it bee, the day
+hath bene when one might have bought him two Clokes for lesse than now he
+can have one of these Clokes made for. They have such store of workmanship
+bestowed upon them.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>It is such descriptions as this that make me regard in admiration this
+ancient Puritan. Would that I had the power of his pen! Fashion-plates,
+forsooth! The <i>Journal of the Modes</i>!--pray, what need have we of any
+pictures or any mantua-maker's words when we can have such a description as
+this. Why! the man had a perfect genius for millinery! Had he lived three
+centuries later, we might have had Master Stubbes in full control (openly
+or secretly, according to his environment) of some dress-making or
+tailoring establishment <i>pour les dames</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The lining of these cloaks was often very gay in color and costly;
+&quot;standing in as much as the outside.&quot; We find a son of Governor
+Winthrop writing in 1606:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I desire you to bring me a very good camlet cloake lyned
+with what you like except blew. It may be purple or red or striped with
+those or other colors if so worn suitable and fashionable.... I would
+make a hard shift rather than not have the cloak.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Similar cloaks of scarlet, and of blue lined with scarlet, formed part
+of the uniform of soldiers for many years and for many nations. They were
+certainly the wear of thrifty comfortable English gentlemen. Did not John
+Gilpin wear one on his famous ride?</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;There was all that he might be<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Equipped from head to toe,<br>
+His long red cloak well-brushed and neat<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;He manfully did throw.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Scarlet was a most popular color for all articles of dress in the early
+years of the eighteenth century. Like the good woman in the Book of
+Proverbs, both English and American housewife &quot;clothed her household
+in scarlet.&quot; Women as well as men wore these scarlet cloaks. It is
+curious to learn from Mrs. Gummere that even Quakers wore scarlet. When
+Margaret Fell married George Fox, greatest of Quakers, he bought her a
+scarlet mantle. And in 1678 he sent her scarlet cloth for another mantle.
+There was good reason in the wear of scarlet; it both was warm and looked
+warm; and the color was a lasting one. It did not fade like many of the
+homemade dyes.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Judge_Stoughton."></a>
+<img src="images\287.png" alt="Judge Stoughton.">
+<H4>Judge Stoughton.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>A very interesting study is that of color in wearing apparel. Beginning
+with the few crude dyes of mediaeval days, we could trace the history of
+dyeing, and the use and invention of new colors and tints. The names of
+these colors are delightful; the older quaint titles seem wonderfully
+significant. We read of such tints as billymot, phillymurt, or philomot
+(feuille-mort), murry, blemmish, gridolin (gris-de-lin or flax blossom),
+puce colour, foulding colour, Kendal green, Lincoln green, treen-colour,
+watchet blue, barry, milly, tuly, stammel red, Bristol red, zaffer-blue,
+which was either sapphire-blue or zaffre-blue, and a score of fanciful
+names whose signification and identification were lost with the death of
+the century. Historical events were commemorated in new hues; we have the
+political, diplomatic, and military history of various countries hinted to
+us. Great discoveries and inventions give names to colors. The materials
+and methods of dyeing, especially domestic dyes, are most interesting. An
+allied topic is the significance of colors, the limitation of their use.
+For instance, the study of blue would fill a chapter. The dress of
+'prentices and serving-men in Elizabeth's day was always blue blue cloaks
+in winter, blue coats in summer. Blue was not precisely a livery; it was
+their color, the badge of their condition in life, as black is now a
+parson's. Different articles of dress clung to certain colors. Green
+stockings had their time and season of clothing the sturdy legs of English
+dames as inevitably as green stalks filled the fields. Think of the years
+of domination of the green apron; of the black hood--it is curious
+indeed.</p>
+
+<p>In such exhaustive books upon special topics as the <i>History of the
+Twelve Great Livery Companies of London</i> we find wonderfully interesting
+and significant proof of the power of color; also in many the restrictive
+sumptuary laws of the Crown.</p>
+
+<p>It would appear that this long, scarlet cloak never was out of wear for
+men and women until the nineteenth century. It was, at times, not the
+height of the fashion, but still was worn. Various ancient citizens of
+Boston, of Salem, are recalled through letter or traditions as clinging
+long to this comfortable cloak. Samuel Adams carried a scarlet cloak with
+him when he went to Washington.</p>
+
+<p>I shall tell in a later chapter of my own great-great-grandmother's wear
+of a scarlet cloak until the opening years of the nineteenth century.
+During and after the Revolution these cloaks remained in high favor for
+women. French officers, writing home to France glowing accounts of the fair
+Americans, noted often that the ladies wore scarlet cloaks, and Madame
+Riedesel asserted that all gentlewomen in Canada never left the house save
+in a scarlet silk or cloth cloak.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A woman's long scarlet cloak, almost new with a double cape,&quot;
+had been one of the articles feloniously taken from the house of Benjamin
+Franklin, printer, in Philadelphia, in 1750. Debby Franklin's dress, if we
+can judge from what was stolen, was a gay revel of color. Among the
+articles was one gown having a pattern of &quot;large red roses and other
+large yellow flowers with blue in some of the flowers with many green
+leaves.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the <i>Life of Jonathan Trumbull</i> we read that when a collection
+was taken in the Lebanon church for the benefit of the soldiers of the
+Continental army, when money, jewels, clothing, and food were gathered in a
+great heap near the pulpit, Madam Faith Trumbull rose up, threw from her
+shoulders her splendid scarlet cloth cloak, a gift from Count Rochambeau,
+advanced to the altar and laid the cloak with other offerings of patriotism
+and generosity. It was used, we are told, to trim the uniforms of the
+Continental officers and soldiers.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Woman's_Cloak._From_Hogarth."></a>
+<img src="images\291.png" alt="Woman's Cloak. From Hogarth.">
+<H4>Woman's Cloak. From Hogarth.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>One of the first entries in regard to dress made by Philip Fithian in
+1773, when he went to Virginia as a school-teacher, was that &quot;almost
+every Lady wears a Red Cloak; and when they ride out they tye a Red
+Handkerchief over their Head &amp; Face; so when I first came to Virginia,
+I was distrest whenever I saw a Lady, for I thought she had the
+Tooth-Ach!&quot; When the young tutor left his charge a year later, he
+wrote a long letter of introduction, instruction, and advice to his
+successor; and so much impression had this riding-dress still upon him that
+he recounted at length the &quot;Masked Ladies,&quot; as he calls them,
+explaining that the whole neck and face was covered, save a narrow slit for
+the eyes, as if they had &quot;the Mumps or Tooth-Ach.&quot; It is possible
+that the insect torments encountered by the fair riders may have been the
+reason for this cloaking and masking. Not only mosquitoes and flies and
+fleas were abundant, but Fithian tells of the irritating illness and high
+fever of the fairest of his little flock from being bitten with ticks,
+&quot;which cover her like a distinct smallpox.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In seventeenth-century inventories an occasional item is a rocket. I
+think no better description of a rocket can be given than that of Celia
+Fiennes:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;You meete all sorts of countrywomen wrapped up in the
+mantles called West Country Rockets, a large mantle doubled together, of a
+sort of serge, some are linsey-woolsey and a deep fringe or fag at the
+lower end; these hang down, some to their feet, some only just below the
+waist; in the summer they are all in white garments of this sort, in the
+winter they are in red ones.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>This would seem much like a blanket shawl, but the word was also applied
+to the scarlet round cloak.</p>
+
+<p>Another much-used name and cloaklike garment was the roquelaure. A very
+good contemporary definition may be copied from <i>A Treatise on the
+Modes</i>, 1715; it says it is &quot;a short abridgement or compendium of a
+coat which is dedicated to the Duke of Roquelaure.&quot; It was simply a
+shorter cloak than had been worn, and it was hoodless; for the great curled
+wigs with heavy locks well over the shoulders made hoods superfluous; and
+even impossible, for men's wear. It was very speedily taken into favor by
+women; and soon the advertisements of lost articles show that it was worn
+by women universally as by men. In the <i>Boston News Letter</i>, in 1730,
+a citizen advertises that he has lost his &quot;Blue Cloak or Roculo with
+brass buttons.&quot; This was the first of an ingenious series of
+misspellings which produced at times a word almost unrelated to the
+original French word. Rocklow, rockolet, roquelo, rochelo, roquello, and
+even rotkello have I found. Ashton says that scarlet cloth was the favorite
+fabric for roquelaures in England; and he deems the scarlet roclows and
+rocliers with gold loops and buttons &quot;exceeding magnifical.&quot; I
+note in the American advertisements that the lost roquelaures are of very
+bright colors; some were of silk, some of camlet; generally they are simply
+'cloth.' Many of the American roquelaures had double capes. I think those
+handsome, gay cloaks must have given a very bright, cheerful aspect to the
+town streets of the middle of the eighteenth century.</p>
+
+<p>Sir William Pepperell, who was ever a little shaky in his spelling, but
+possibly no more so than his neighbors, sent in 1737 from Piscataqua to one
+Hooper in England for &quot;A Handsom Rockolet for my daughter of about 15
+yrs. old, or what is ye Most Newest Fashion for one of her age to ware at
+meeting in ye Winter Season.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The capuchin was a hooded cloak named from the hooded garment worn by
+the Capuchin monks. The date 1752 given by Fairholt as an early date of its
+wear is far wrong. Fielding used the word in <i>Tom Jones</i> in 1749;
+other English publications, in 1709; and I find it in the <i>Letters of
+Madame de S&eacute;vign&eacute;</i> as early as 1686. The cardinal, worn at
+the same date, was originally of scarlet cloth, and I find was generally of
+some wool stuff. At one time I felt sure that cardinal was always the name
+for the woollen cloak, and capuchin of the silken one; but now I am a bit
+uncertain whether this is a rule. Judging from references in literature and
+advertisements, the capuchin was a richer garment than the cardinal.
+Capuchins were frequently trimmed liberally with lace, ribbons, and
+robings; were made of silk with gauze ruffles, or of figured velvet. One is
+here shown which is taken from one of Hogarth's prints.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="A_Capuchin._From_Hogarth."></a>
+<img src="images\294.png" alt="A Capuchin. From Hogarth.">
+<H4>A Capuchin. From Hogarth.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>This notice is from the <i>Boston Evening Post</i> of January 13,
+1772:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Taken from Concert Hall on Thursday Evening a handsom
+Crimson Satin Capuchin trimmed with a rich white Blond Lace with a narrow
+Blond Lace on the upper edge Lined with White
+Sarsnet.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>In 1752 capuchins and cardinals were much worn, especially purple ones.
+The <i>Connoisseur</i> says all colors were neglected for purple. &quot;In
+purple we glowed from hat to shoe. In such request were ribbons and silks
+of that famous color that neither milliner mercer nor dyer could meet the
+demand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The names &quot;cardinal&quot; and &quot;capuchin&quot; had been derived
+from monkish wear, and the cape, called a pelerine, had an allied
+derivation; it is said to be derived from <i>p&egrave;lerin</i>--meaning a
+pilgrim. It was a small cape with longer ends hanging in front; and was
+invented as a light, easily adjustable covering for the ladies' necks,
+which had been left so widely and coldly bare by the low-cut French
+bodices. It is said that the garment was invented in France in 1671. I do
+not find the word in use in America till 1730. Then mantua-makers
+advertised that they would make them. Various materials were used, from
+soft silk and thin cloth to rich velvet; but silk pelerines were more
+common.</p>
+
+<p>In 1743, in the <i>Boston News Letter</i>, Henrietta Maria East
+advertised that &quot;Ladies may have their Pellerines made&quot; at her
+mantua-making shop. In 1749 &quot;pellerines&quot; were advertised for sale
+in the <i>Boston Gazette</i> and a black velvet &quot;pellerine&quot; was
+lost.</p>
+
+<p>In the quotation heading this chapter, manteel, pelerine, and neckatee
+precede the capuchin; but in fact the capuchin is as old as the pelerine.
+Beyond the fact that all mantua-makers made neckatees, and that they were a
+small cape, this garment cannot be described. It required much less stuff
+than either capuchin or cardinal. The &quot;manteel&quot; was, of course,
+as old as the cloak. Elijah &quot;took his mantle and wrapped it together,
+and smote the waters.&quot; In the Middle Ages the mantle was a great piece
+of cloth in any cloaklike shape, of which the upper corners were fastened
+at the neck. Often one of the front edges was thrown over one shoulder. In
+the varied forms of spelling and wearing, as manto, manteau, mantoon,
+mantelet, and mantilla the foundation is the same. We have noted the
+richness and elegance of Madam Symonds's mantua. We could not forget the
+word and its signification while we have so important a use of it in
+mantua-maker.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Lady_Caroline_Montagu."></a>
+<img src="images\296.png" alt="Lady Caroline Montagu.">
+<H4>Lady Caroline Montagu.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Dauphiness was the name of a certain style of mantle, which was most
+popular about 1750. Harriot Paine had &quot;Dauphiness Mantles&quot; for
+sale in Boston in 1755. A rude drawing in an old letter indicates that the
+&quot;Dauphiness&quot; had a deep point at the back, and was cut up high at
+the arm-hole. It was of thin silk, and was trimmed all around the lower
+edge with a deep, full frill of the silk, which at the arm-hole fell over
+the arm like a short sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>Many were the names of those pretty little cloaks and capes which were
+worn with the sacque-shaped gowns. The duchess was one; we revived the name
+for a similar mantle in 1870. The pelisse was in France the cloak with
+arm-holes, shown, <a href="#Lady_Caroline_Montagu.">here</a>, upon one of
+Sir Joshua Reynolds's engaging children. The pelisse in America sometimes
+had sleeves, I am sure; and was hardly a cloak. It is difficult to classify
+some forms which seem almost jackets. A general distinction may be made not
+to include sleeved garments with the cloaks; but several of the manteaus
+had loose, large, flowing sleeves, and some like Madam Symonds's had
+detached sleeves. It is also difficult to know whether some of the
+negligees were cloaks or sacque-like gowns. And there is the other extreme;
+some of the smaller, circular neck-coverings like the van-dykes are not
+cloaks. They are scarcely capes; they are merely collars; but there are
+still others which are a bit bigger and are certainly capes. And are there
+not also capes, like the neckatee, which may be termed cloaks? Material,
+too, is bewildering; a light gauze thing of ribbons and furbelows like the
+Unella is not really a cloak, yet it takes a cloaklike form. There are no
+cut and dried rules as to size, form, or weight of these cloaks, capes,
+collars, and hoods, so I have formed my own classes and assignments.</p>
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="#X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN</h3>
+<blockquote><i>&quot;Rise up to thy Elders, put off thy Hat, make a
+Leg&quot;</i><br> <br> --&quot;Janua Linguarum,&quot; COMENIUS, 1664.<br>
+<br><br> <i>&quot;Little ones are taught to be proud of their clothes
+before they can put them on.&quot;</i><br> <br> --&quot;Essay on Human
+Understanding,&quot; LOCKE, 1687.<br> <br><br> <i>&quot;When thou thyself,
+a watery, pulpy, slobbery Freshman and newcomer on this Planet, sattest
+mewling in thy nurse's arms; sucking thy coral, and looking forth into the
+world in the blankest manner, what hadst thou been without thy blankets
+and bibs and other nameless hulls?&quot;</i><br> <br> --&quot;Sartor
+Resartus,&quot; THOMAS CARLYLE, 1836.<br></blockquote> <br>
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE DRESS OF OLD-TIME CHILDREN</h3>
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\initialw.png" align=left
+alt="W">hen we reflect that in any community the number of &quot;the
+younger sort&quot; is far larger than of grown folk, when we know, too,
+what large families our ancestors had, in all the colonies, we must deem
+any picture of social life, any history of costume, incomplete unless the
+dress of children is shown. French and English books upon costume are
+curiously silent regarding such dress. It might be alleged as a reason for
+this singular silence that the dress of young children was for centuries
+precisely that of their elders, and needed no specification. But infants'
+dress certainly was widely different, and full of historic interest, as
+well as quaint prettiness; and there were certain details of the dress of
+older children that were most curious and were wholly unlike the
+contemporary garb of their elders; sometimes these details were survivals
+of ancient modes for grown folk, sometimes their name was a survival while
+their form had changed.</p>
+
+<p>For the dress of children of the early years of colonial life--the
+seventeenth century--I have an unusual group of five portraits. One is the
+little Padishal child, shown with her mother in the frontispiece, one is
+Robert Gibbes (shown <a href="#Robert_Gibbes.">here</a>). The third child
+is said to be John Quincy--his picture is opposite this page. The two
+portraits of Margaret and Henry Gibbes are owned in Virginia; but are too
+dimly photographed for reproduction. The portrait of Robert Gibbes is owned
+by inheritance by Miss Sarah B. Hager, of Kendal Green, Massachusetts. It
+is well preserved, having hung for over a hundred years on the same wall in
+the old house. He was four years old when this portrait was painted. It is
+marked 1670. John Quincy's portrait is marked also plainly as one and a
+half years old, and with a date which is a bit dimmed; it is either 1670 or
+1690. If it is 1690, the picture can be that of John Quincy, though he
+would scarcely be as large as is the portrayed figure. If the date is 1670,
+it cannot be John Quincy, for he was born in 1689. The picture has the same
+checker-board floor as the three other Gibbes portraits, four rows of
+squares wide; and the child's toes are set at the same row as are the toes
+of the shoes in the picture of Robert Gibbes.</p>
+
+<p>The portraits of Henry and Margaret Gibbes are also marked plainly 1670.
+There was a fourth Gibbes child, who would have been just the age of the
+subject of the Quincy portrait; and it is natural that there should be a
+suspicion that this fourth portrait is of the fourth Gibbes child, not of
+John Quincy.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="John_Quincy."></a>
+<img src="images\301.png" alt="John Quincy.">
+<H4>John Quincy.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Margaret Gibbes was born in 1663. Henry Gibbes was born in 1667. He
+became a Congregational minister. His daughter married Nathaniel Appleton,
+and through Nathaniel, John, Dr. John S., and John, the portrait, with that
+of Margaret, came to the present owner, General John W. S. Appleton, of
+Charlestown, West Virginia.</p>
+
+<p>The dress of these five children is of the same rich materials that
+would be worn by their mothers. The Padishal child wears black velvet like
+her mother's gown; but her frock is brightened with scarlet points of
+color. The linings of the velvet hanging sleeves, the ribbon knots of the
+white virago-sleeve, the shoe-tip, the curious cap-tassel, are of bright
+scarlet. We have noted the dominance of scarlet in old English costumes. It
+was evidently the only color favored for children. The lace cap, the rich
+lace stomacher, the lace-edged apron, all are of Flemish lace. Margaret
+Gibbes wears a frock of similar shape, and equally rich and dark in color;
+it is a heavy brocade of blue and red, with a bit of yellow. Her fine
+apron, stomacher, and full sleeves are rich in needlework. Robert Gibbes's
+&quot;coat,&quot; as a boy's dress at that age then was called, is a
+striking costume. The inmost sleeves are of white lawn, over them are
+sleeves made of strips of galloon of a pattern in yellow, white, scarlet,
+and black, with a rolled cuff of red velvet. There is a similar roll around
+the hem of the coat. Still further sleeves are hanging sleeves of velvet
+trimmed with the galloon.</p>
+
+<p>It will be noted that his hanging sleeve is cut square and trimmed
+squarely across the end. It is similar to the sleeves worn at the same time
+by citizens of London in their formal &quot;liveryman's&quot; dress, which
+had bands like pockets, that sometimes really were pockets.</p>
+
+<p>His plain, white, hemstitched band would indicate that he was a boy, did
+not the swing of his petticoats plainly serve to show it, as do also his
+brothers' &quot;coats.&quot; That child knew well what it was to tread and
+trip on those hated petticoats as he went upstairs. I know how he begged
+for breeches. The apron of John Quincy varies slightly in shape from that
+of the other boy, but the general dress is like, save his pretty, gay,
+scarlet hood, worn over a white lace cap. One unique detail of these Gibbes
+portraits, and the Quincy portrait, is the shoes. In all four, the shoes
+are of buff leather, with absolutely square toes, with a thick, scarlet
+sole to which the buff-leather upper seems tacked with a row either of
+long, thick, white stitches or of heavy metal-headed nails; these white
+dots are very ornamental. One pair of the shoes has great scarlet roses on
+the instep. The square toe was distinctly a Cavalier fashion. It is in Miss
+Campion's portrait, facing this page, and in the print of the Prince of
+Orange <a href="#311">here</a>, and is found in many portraits of the day.
+But these American shoes are in the minor details entirely unlike any
+English shoes I have seen in any collection elsewhere, and are most
+interesting. They were doubtless English in make.</p>
+
+<p>The portrait of John Quincy resembles much in its dress that of Oliver
+Cromwell when two years old, the picture now at Chequers Court. Cromwell's
+linen collar is rounded, and a curious ornament is worn in front, as a
+little girl would wear a locket. The whole throat and a little of the upper
+neck is bare. Dark hair, slightly curled, comes out from the close cap in
+front of the ears. This picture of Cromwell distinctly resembles his
+mother's portrait.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Miss_Campion,_1667."></a>
+<img src="images\304.png" alt="Miss Campion, 1667.">
+<H4>Miss Campion, 1667.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The quaint tassel or rosette or feather on the cap of the Padishal child
+was a fashion of the day. It is seen in many Dutch portraits of children.
+In a curious old satirical print of Oliver Cromwell preaching are the
+figures of two little children drawn standing by their mother's side. One
+child's back is turned for our sight, and shows us what might well be the
+back of the gown of the Padishal child. The cap has the same ornament on
+the crown, and the hanging sleeves--of similar form--have, at intervals of
+a few inches apart from shoulder to heel, an outside embellishment of knots
+of ribbon. There is also a band or strip of embroidery or passementerie up
+the back of the gown from skirt-hem to lace collar, with a row of buttons
+on the strip. This proves that the dress was fastened in the back, as the
+stiff, unbroken, white stomacher also indicates. The other child is
+evidently a boy. His gown is long and fur-edged. His cap is round like a
+Scotch bonnet, and has also a tuft or rosette at the crown. On either side
+hang long strings or ribbon bands reaching from the cap edge to the
+knee.</p>
+
+<p>These portraits of these little American children display nothing of
+that God-given attribute which we call genius, but they do possess a
+certain welcome trait, which is truthfulness; a hard attention to detail,
+which confers on them a quality of exactness of likeness of which we are
+very sensible. We have for comparison a series of portraits of the same
+dates, but of English children, the children of the royal and court
+families. I give <a
+href="#Duchess_of_Buckingham_and_her_Two_Children.">here</a> a part of the
+portrait group of the family of the Duke of Buckingham; namely, the Duchess
+of Buckingham and her two children, an infant son and a daughter, Mary. She
+was a wonderful child, known in the court as &quot;Pretty Moll,&quot;
+having the beauty of her father, the &quot;handsomest-bodied&quot; man in
+court, his vivacity, his vigor, and his love of dancing, all of which made
+him the prime favorite both of James and his son, Charles.</p>
+
+<p>A letter exists written by the duchess to her husband while he was gone
+to Spain with his thirty suits of richly embroidered garments of which I
+have written in my first chapter. The duchess writes of &quot;Pretty
+Moll,&quot; who was not a year old:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;She is very well, I thank God; and when she is set to her
+feet and held by her sleeves she will not go softly but stamp, and set one
+foot before another very fast, and I think she will run before she can go.
+She loves dancing extremely; and when the Saraband is played, she will get
+her thumb and finger together offering to snap; and then when &quot;Tom
+Duff&quot; is sung, she will shake her apron; and when she hears the tune
+of the clapping dance my Lady Frances Herbert taught the Prince, she will
+clap both her hands together, and on her breast, and she can tell the tunes
+as well as any of us can; and as they change tunes she will change her
+dancing. I would you were here but to see her, for you would take much
+delight in her now she is so full of pretty play and tricks. Everybody says
+she grows each day more like you.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Can you not see the engaging little creature, clapping her hands and
+trying to step out in a dance? No imaginary description could equal in
+charm this bit of real life, this word-picture painted in bright and living
+colors by a mother's love. I give another merry picture of her childhood
+and widowhood in a later chapter. Many portraits of &quot;Pretty Moll&quot;
+were painted by Van Dyck, more than of any woman in England save the queen.
+One shows her in the few months that she was the child-wife of the eldest
+son of the Earl of Pembroke. She is in the centre of the great family
+group. She was married thrice; her favorite choice of character in which to
+be painted was Saint Agnes, who died rather than be married at all.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Infant's_Cap."></a>
+<img src="images\307.png" alt="Infant's Cap.">
+<H4>Infant's Cap.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Both mother and child in this picture wear a lace cap of unusual shape,
+rather broader where turned over at the ear than at the top. It is seen on
+a few other portraits of that date, and seems to have come to England with
+the queen of James I. It disappeared before the graceful modes of
+hair-dressing introduced by Queen Henrietta Maria.</p>
+
+<p>The genius of Van Dyck has preserved for us a wonderful portraiture of
+children of this period, the children of King Charles I. The earliest group
+shows the king and queen with two children; one a baby in arms with long
+clothes and close cap--this might have been painted yesterday. The little
+prince standing at his father's knee is in a dark green frock, much like
+John Quincy's, and apparently no richer. A painting at Windsor shows king
+and queen with the two princes, Charles and James; another, also at
+Windsor, gives the mother with the two sons. One at Turin gives the two
+princes with their sister. At Windsor, and in <i>replica</i> at Berlin, is
+the famous masterpiece with the five children, dated 1637.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Eleanor_Foster._1755."></a>
+<img src="images\309.png" alt="Eleanor Foster. 1755.">
+<H4>Eleanor Foster. 1755.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>This exquisite group shows Charles, the Prince of Wales (aged seven),
+with his arm on the head of a great dog; he is in the full garb of a grown
+man, a Cavalier. His suit is red satin; the shoes are white, with red
+roses. Mary, demure as in all her portraits, is aged six; she wears
+virago-sleeves made like those of Margaret Gibbes, with hanging sleeves
+over them, a lace stomacher, and cap, with tufts of scarlet, and hair
+curled lightly on the forehead, and pulled out at the side in ringlets,
+like that of her mother, Henrietta Maria. The Duke of York, aged two, wears
+a red dress spotted with yellow, with sleeves precisely like those of
+Robert Gibbes; white lace-edged apron, stomacher, and cap; his hair is in
+curls. The Princess Elizabeth was aged about two; she is in blue. Her cap
+is of wrought and tucked lawn, and she wears either a pearl ear-ring or a
+pearl pendant at the corner of the cap just at the ear, and a string of
+pearls around her neck. She has a gentle, serious face, one with a
+premonitory tinge of sadness. She was the favorite daughter of the king,
+and wrote the inexpressibly touching account of his last days in prison.
+She was but thirteen, and he said to her the day before his execution,
+&quot;Sweetheart, you will forget all this.&quot; &quot;Not while I
+live,&quot; she answered, with many tears, and promised to write it down.
+She lived but a short time, for she was broken-hearted; she was found dead,
+with her head lying on the religious book she had been reading--in which
+attitude she is carved on her tomb. The baby is Princess Anne, a fat little
+thing not a year old; she is naked, save for a close cap and a little
+drapery. She died when three and a half years old; died with these words on
+her lips, &quot;Lighten Thou mine eyes, O Lord, that I sleep not the sleep
+of Death.&quot; It was not Puritan children only at that time who were
+filled with deep religious thought, and gave expression to that thought
+even in infancy; children of the Church of England and of the Roman
+Catholic Church were all widely imbued with religious feeling, and Biblical
+words were the familiar speech of the day, of both young and old. It rouses
+in me strange emotions when I gaze at this portrait and remember all that
+came into the lives of these royal children. They had been happier had they
+been born, like the little Gibbes children, in America, and of untitled
+parents.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="311"></a>
+<img src="images\311.png" alt="William, Prince of Orange.">
+<h4>William, Prince of Orange.</h4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>At Amsterdam may be seen the portrait of Princess Mary painted with her
+cousin, William of Orange, who became her child-husband. She had the
+happiest life of any of the five--if she ever could be happy after her
+father's tragic death. In this later portrait she is a little older and
+sadder and stiffer. Her waist is more pinched, her shoulders narrower, her
+face more demure. His likeness is here given. The only marked difference in
+the dress of these children from the dress of the Gibbes children is in the
+lace; the royal family wear laces with deeply pointed edges, the point
+known as a Vandyke. The American children wear straight-edged laces, as was
+the general manner of laces of that day. An old print of the Duke of York
+when about seven years old is given (<a
+href="#JAMES_DUKE_OF_YORK">here</a>). He carries in his hand a quaint
+racket.</p>
+
+<p>The costume worn by these children is like that of plebeian English
+children of the same date. A manuscript drawing of a child of the people in
+the reign of Charles I shows a precisely similar dress, save that the child
+is in leading-strings held by the mother; and in the belt to which the
+leading-strings are attached is thrust a &quot;muckinder&quot; or
+handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>These leading-strings are seldom used now, but they were for centuries a
+factor in a child's progress. They were a favorite gift to children; and
+might be a simple flat strip of strong stuff, or might be richly worked
+like the leading-strings which Mary, Queen of Scots embroidered for her
+little baby, James. These are three bands of Spanish pink satin ribbon,
+each about four or five feet long and over an inch wide. The three are
+sewed with minute over-and-over stitches into a flat band about four inches
+wide, and are embroidered with initials, emblems of the crown, a verse of a
+psalm, and a charming flower and grape design. The gold has tarnished into
+brown, and the flower colors are fled; but it is still a beautiful piece of
+work, speaking with no uncertain voice of a tender, loving mother and a
+womanly queen. There were crewel-worked leading-strings in America. One is
+prettily lined with strips of handsome brocade that had been the mother's
+wedding petticoat; it is not an ill rival of the princely
+leading-strings.</p>
+
+<p>Another little English girl, who was not a princess, but who lived in
+the years when ran and played our little American children, was Miss
+Campion, who &quot;minded her horn-book&quot;--minded it so well that she
+has been duly honored as the only English child ever painted with horn-book
+in hand. Her petticoat and stomacher, her apron, and cap and hanging
+sleeves and square-toed shoes are just like Margaret Gibbes's--bought in
+the same London shops, very likely.</p>
+
+<p>Not only did all these little English and American children dress alike,
+but so did French children, and so did Spanish children--only little
+Spanish girls had to wear hoops. Hoops were invented in Spain; and proud
+was the Spanish queen of them.</p>
+
+<p>Velasquez, contemporary with Van Dyck, painted the Infanta Maria
+Theresa; the portrait is now in the Prado at Madrid. She carries a
+handkerchief as big as a tablecloth; but above her enormous hoop appears
+not only the familiar virago-sleeve, but the straight whisk or collar, just
+like that of English children and dames. This child and the Princess
+Marguerite, by Velasquez, have the hair parted on one side with the top
+lock turned aside and tied with a knot of ribbon precisely as we tie our
+little daughters' hair to-day; and as the bride of Charles II wore her hair
+when he married her. French children had not assumed hoops. I have an old
+French portrait before me of a little demoiselle, aged five, in a scarlet
+cloth gown with edgings of a narrow gray gimp or silver lace. All the
+sleeves, the slashes, the long, hanging sleeves are thus edged. She wears a
+long, narrow, white lawn apron, and her stiff bodice has a stomacher of
+lawn. There is a straight white collar tied with tiny bows in front and
+white cuffs; a scarlet close cap edged with silver lace completes an
+exquisite costume, which is in shape like that of Margaret Gibbes. The
+garments of all these children, royal and subject, are too long, of course,
+for comfort in walking; too stiff, likewise, for comfort in wearing; too
+richly laced to be suitable for everyday wear; too costly, save for folk of
+wealth; yet nevertheless so quaint, so becoming, so handsome, so rich, that
+we reluctantly turn away from them.</p>
+
+<p>The dress of all young children in families of estate was cumbersome to
+a degree. There exists to-day a warrant for the purchase of clothing of
+Mary Tudor, sister of Henry VIII, when she was a sportive, wilful, naughty
+little child of four. She wore such unwieldy and ugly guise as this:
+kirtles of tawny damask and black satin; gowns of green and crimson striped
+velvet edged with purple tinsel, which must have been hideous. All were
+lined with heavy black buckram. Indeed, the inner portions, the linings of
+old-time garments, even of royalty, were far from elegant. I have seen
+garments worn by grown princesses of the eighteenth century, whereof the
+rich brocade bodies were lined with common, heavy fabric, usually a stiff
+linen; and the sewing was done with thread as coarse as shoe-thread, often
+homespun. This, too, when the sleeve and neck-ruffles would be of
+needlework so exquisite that it could not be rivalled in execution
+to-day.</p>
+
+<p>Many of the older portraits of children show hanging sleeves. The rich
+claret velvet dresses of the Van Cortlandt twins, aged four, had hanging
+sleeves. This dress is given in my book, <i>Child Life in Colonial
+Days</i>, as is that of Katherine Ten Broeck, another child of Dutch birth
+living in New York, who also wore heavy hanging sleeves.</p>
+
+<p>The use of the word hanging sleeves in common speech and in literature
+is most interesting. It had a figurative meaning; it symbolized youth and
+innocence. This meaning was acquired, of course, from the wear for
+centuries of hanging sleeves by little children, both boys and girls. It
+had a second, a derivative signification, being constantly employed as a
+figure of speech to indicate second childhood; it was used with a wistful
+tender meaning as an emblem of the helplessness of feeble old age. The
+following example shows such an employment of the term.</p>
+
+<p>In 1720, Judge Samuel Sewall, of Boston, then about seventy-five years
+of age, wrote to another old gentleman, whose widowed sister he desired to
+marry, in these words:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I remember when I was going from school at Newbury to
+have sometime met your sisters Martha and Mary in Hanging Sleeves, coming
+home from their school in Chandlers Lane, and have had the pleasure of
+speaking to them. And I could find it in my heart now to speak to Mrs.
+Martha again, now I myself am reduced to Hanging
+Sleeves.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>William Byrd, of Westover, in Virginia, in one of his engaging and
+sprightly letters written in 1732, pictures the time of the patriarchs when
+&quot;a man was reckoned at Years of Discretion at 100; Boys went into
+Breeches at about 40; Girles continued in Hanging Sleeves till 50, and
+plaid with their Babys till Threescore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When Benjamin Franklin was seven years old, he wrote a poem which was
+sent to his uncle, a bright old Quaker. This uncle responded in clever
+lines which begin thus:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;'Tis time for me to throw aside my pen<br>
+When Hanging-Sleeves read, write and rhyme like men.<br>
+This forward Spring foretells a plenteous crop<br>
+For if the bud bear grain, what will the top?&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>A curious use of the long hanging sleeve was as a pocket; that is, it
+would seem curious to us were it not for our acquaintance with the capacity
+of the sleeves of our unwelcome friend, Ah Sing. The pocketing sleeve of
+the time of Henry III still exists in the heraldic charge known as the
+manche, borne by the Hastings and Norton family. This is also called
+maunch, &eacute;manche, and mancheron. The word &quot;manchette,&quot; an
+ornamented cuff, retains the meaning of the word, as does manacle; all are
+from <i>manus</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Hanging sleeves had a time of short popularity for grown folk while Anne
+Boleyn was queen of England; for the little finger of her left hand had a
+double tip, and the long, graceful sleeves effectually concealed the
+deformity.</p>
+
+<p>In my book entitled <i>Child Life in Colonial Days</i> I have given over
+thirty portraits of American children. These show the changes of fashions,
+the wear of children at various periods and ages. Childish dress ever
+reflected the dress of their elders, and often closely imitated it. Two
+very charming costumes are worn by two little children of the province of
+South Carolina. The little girl is but two years old. She is Ellinor
+Cordes, and was painted about 1740. She is a lovely little child of French
+features and French daintiness of dress, albeit a bright yellow brocaded
+satin would seem rather gorgeous attire for a girl of her years. The boy is
+her kinsman, Daniel Ravenel, and was then about five years old. He wore
+what might be termed a frock with spreading petticoats, which touched the
+ground; there is a decided boyishness in the tight-fitting, trim waistcoat
+with its silver buttons and lace, and the befrogged coat with broad cuffs
+and wrist ruffles, and turned-over revers, and narrow linen inner collar.
+It is an exceptionally pleasing boy's dress, for a little boy.</p>
+
+<p>A somewhat similar but more feminine coat is worn by Thomas Aston
+Coffin; it opens in front over a white satin petticoat, and it has a
+low-cut neck and sleeves shortened to the elbow, and worn over full white
+undersleeves. Other portraits by Copley show the same dress of white satin,
+which boys wore till six years of age.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Mrs._Theodore_Sedgwick_and_Daughter."></a>
+<img src="images\318.png" alt="Mrs. Theodore Sedgwick and Daughter.">
+<H4>Mrs. Theodore Sedgwick and Daughter.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Copley's portrait of his own children is given on a later page. This
+family group always startles all who have seen it only in photographs; for
+its colors are so unexpected, so frankly crude and vivid. The individuals
+are all charming. The oldest child, the daughter, Elizabeth, stands in the
+foreground in a delightful white frock of striped gauze. This is worn over
+a pink slip, and the pink tints show in the thinner folds of whiteness; a
+fine piece of texture-painting. The gauze sash is tied in a vast knot, and
+lies out in a train; this is a more vivid pink, inclining to the tint of
+the old-rose damask furniture-covering. She wears a pretty little net and
+muslin cap with a cap-pin like a tiny rose. This single figure is not
+excelled, I think, by any child's portrait in foreign galleries, nor is it
+often equalled. Nor can the exquisite expression of childish love and
+confidence seen on the face of the boy, John Singleton Copley, Junior, who
+later became Lord Lyndhurst, find a rival in painting. It is an unspeakably
+touching portrait to all who have seen upturned close to their own eyes the
+trusting and loving face of a beautiful son as he clung with strong boyish
+arms and affection to his mother's neck.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Infant_Child_of_Francis_Hopkinson"></a>
+<img src="images\319.png" alt="Infant Child of Francis Hopkinson">
+<H4>Infant Child of Francis Hopkinson, &quot;the Signer.&quot; Painted by
+Francis Hopkinson.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>This little American boy, who became Lord Chancellor of England, wears a
+nankeen suit with a lilac-tinted sash. It is his beaver hat with gold
+hatband and blue feather that lies on the ground at the feet of the
+grandfather, Richard Clarke. The baby, held by the grandfather, wears a
+coral and bells on a lilac sash-ribbon; such a coral as we see in many
+portraits of infants. Another child in white-embroidered robe and dark
+yellow sash completes this beautiful family picture. Its great fault to me
+is the blue of Mrs. Copley's gown, which is as vivid as a peacock's breast.
+This painting is deemed Copley's masterpiece; but an equal interest is that
+it is such an absolute and open expression of Copley's lovable character
+and upright life. In it we can read his affectionate nature, his love of
+his sweet wife, his happy home-relations, and his pride in his beautiful
+children.</p>
+
+<p>There is ample proof, not only in the inventories which chance to be
+preserved, but in portraits of the times, that children's dress in the
+eighteenth century was often costly. Of course the children of wealthy
+parents only would have their portraits painted; but their dress was as
+rich as the dress of the children of the nobility in England at the same
+time. You can see this in the colored reproduction of the portraits of Hon.
+James Bowdoin and his sister, Augusta, afterwards Lady Temple. That they
+were good likenesses is proved by the fact that the faces are strongly like
+those of the same persons in more mature years. You find little Augusta
+changed but slightly in matronhood in the fine pastel by Copley. In this
+portrait of the two Bowdoin children, the entire dress is given. Seldom are
+the shoes shown. These are interesting, for the boy's square-toed black
+shoes with buckles are wholly unlike his sister's blue morocco slippers
+with turned-up peaks and gilt ornaments from toe to instep, making a
+foot-gear much like certain Turkish slippers seen to-day. Her hair has the
+bedizenment of beads and feathers, which were worn by young girls for as
+many years as their mothers wore the same. The young lad's dress is
+precisely like his father's. There is much charm in these straight little
+figures. They have the aristocratic bearing which is a family trait of all
+of that kin. I should not deem Lady Temple ever a beauty, though she was
+called so by Manasseh Cutler, a minister who completely yielded to her
+charms when she was a grandmother and forty-four. This portrait of brother
+and sister is, I believe, by Blackburn. The dress is similar and the date
+the same as the portrait of the Misses Royall (one of whom became Lady
+Pepperell), which is by Blackburn.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Mary_Seton,_1763."></a>
+<img src="images\321.png" alt="Mary Seton, 1763.">
+<H4>Mary Seton, 1763.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The portrait of a charming little American child is shown <a
+href="#Mary_Seton,_1763.">here</a>. This child, in feature, figure, and
+attitude, and even in the companionship of the kitten, is a curious replica
+of a famous English portrait of &quot;Miss Trimmer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I have written at length in Chapter IV of a grandmother in the Hall
+family and of the Hall family connection. Let me tell of another
+grandmother, Madam Lydia Coleman, the daughter of the old Indian fighter,
+Captain Joshua Scottow. She, like Madam Symonds and Madam Stoddard, had had
+several husbands--Colonel Benjamin Gibbs, Attorney-General Anthony
+Checkley, and William Coleman. The Hall children were her grandchildren;
+and came to Boston for schooling at one time. Many letters exist of Hon.
+Hugh Hall to and from his grandmother, Madam Coleman. She writes
+thus.--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;As for Richard since I told him I would write to his
+Father he is more orderly, &amp; he is very hungry, and has grown so much
+yt all his Clothes is too Little for him. He loves his book and his play
+too. I hired him to get a Chapter of ye Proverbs &amp; give him a penny
+every Sabbath day, &amp; promised him 5 shillings when he can say them all
+by heart. I would do my duty by his soul as well as his body.... He has
+grown a good boy and minds his School and Lattin and Dancing. He is a
+brisk Child &amp; grows very Cute and wont wear his new silk coat yt was
+made for him. He wont wear it every day so yt I don't know what to do with
+it. It wont make him a jackitt. I would have him a good husbander but he
+is but a child. For shoes, gloves, hankers &amp; stockins, they ask very
+deare, 8 shillings for a paire &amp; Richard takes no care of them.
+Richard wears out nigh 12 paire of shoes a year. He brought 12 hankers
+with him and they have all been lost long ago; and I have bought him 3 or
+4 more at a time. His way is to tie knottys at one end &amp; beat ye Boys
+with them and then to lose them &amp; he cares not a bit what I will say to
+him.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Madam Coleman, after this handful, was given charge of his sister Sarah.
+When Missy arrived from the Barbadoes, she was eight years old. She brought
+with her a maid. The grandmother wrote back cheerfully to the parents that
+the child was well and brisk, as indeed she was. All the very young
+gentlemen and young ladies of Boston Brahmin blood paid her visits, and she
+gave a feast at a child's dancing-party with the sweetmeats left over from
+her sea-store. Her stay in her grandmother's household was surprisingly
+brief. She left unbidden with her maid, and went to a Mr. Binning's to
+board; she sent home word to the Barbadoes that her grandmother made her
+drink water with her meals. Her brother wrote to Madam Coleman:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;We were all persuaded of your tender and hearty affection
+to my Sister when we recommended her to your parental care. We are sorry
+to hear of her Independence in removing from under the Benign Influences
+of your Wing &amp; am surprised she dare do it without our leave or
+consent or that Mr. Binning receive her at his house before he knew how we
+were affected to it. We shall now desire Mr. Binning to resign her with
+her waiting maid to you and in our Letter to him have strictly ordered her
+to Return to your House.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>But no brother could control this spirited young damsel. Three months
+later a letter from Madam Coleman read thus:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Sally wont go to school nor to church and wants a nue
+muff and a great many other things she don't need. I tell her fine things
+are cheaper in Barbadoes. She is well and brisk, says her Brother has
+nothing to do with her as long as her father is
+alive.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Hugh Hall wrote in return, saying his daughter ought to have one room to
+sleep in, and her maid another, that it was not befitting children of their
+station to drink water, they should have wine and beer. We cannot wonder
+that they dressed like their elders since they were treated like their
+elders in other respects.</p>
+
+<p>The dress of very young girls was often extraordinarily rich. We find
+this order sent to London in 1739, for finery for Mary Cabell, daughter of
+Dr. William Cabell of Virginia, when she was but thirteen years old:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;1 Prayer Book (almost every such inventory had this item).<br>
+1 Red Silk Petticoat.<br>
+1 Very good broad Silver laced hat and hat-band.<br>
+1 Pair Stays 17 inches round the waist.<br>
+2 Pair fine Shoes.<br>
+12 Pair fine Stockings.<br>
+1 Hoop Petticoat.<br>
+1 Pair Ear rings.<br>
+1 Pair Clasps.<br>
+3 Pair Silver Buttons set with Stones.<br>
+1 Suit of Headclothes.<br>
+4 Fine Handkerchiefs and Ruffles suitable.<br>
+A Very handsome Knot and Girdle.<br>
+A Fine Cloak and Short Apron.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="The_Bowdoin_Children."></a>
+<img src="images\325.png" alt="The Bowdoin Children.">
+<H4>The Bowdoin Children. Lady Temple and Governor James Bowdoin
+in Childhood.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>I never read such a list as this without picturing the delight of little
+Mary Cabell when she opened the box containing all these pretty
+garments.</p>
+
+<p>The order given by Colonel John Lewis for his young ward of eleven years
+old--another Virginia child--reads thus:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;A cap, ruffle, and tucker, the lace 5s. per yard.<br>
+1 pair White Stays.<br>
+8 pair White kid gloves.<br>
+2 pair Colour'd kid gloves.<br>
+2 pair worsted hose.<br>
+3 pair thread hose.<br>
+1 pair silk shoes laced.<br>
+1 pair morocco shoes.<br>
+4 pair plain Spanish shoes.<br>
+2 pair calf shoes.<br>
+1 Mask.<br>
+1 Fan.<br>
+1 Necklace.<br>
+1 Girdle and Buckle.<br>
+1 Piece fashionable Calico.<br>
+4 yards Ribbon for Knots.<br>
+1 Hoop Coat.<br>
+1 Hat.<br>
+1 1/2 Yard of Cambric.<br>
+A Mantua and Coat of Slite Lustring.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Orders for purchases were regularly despatched to London agent by George
+Washington after his marriage. In 1761 he orders a full list of garments
+for both his stepchildren. &quot;Miss Custis&quot; was only six years old.
+These are some of the items:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;1 Coat made of Fashionable Silk.<br>
+A Fashionable Cap or fillet with Bib apron.<br>
+Ruffles and Tuckers, to be laced.<br>
+4 Fashionable Dresses made of Long Lawn.<br>
+2 Fine Cambrick Frocks.<br>
+A Satin Capuchin, hat, and neckatees.<br>
+A Persian Quilted Coat.<br>
+1 p. Pack Thread Stays.<br>
+4 p. Callimanco Shoes.<br>
+6 p. Leather Shoes.<br>
+2 p. Satin Shoes with flat ties.<br>
+6 p. Fine Cotton Stockings.<br>
+4 p. White Worsted Stockings.<br>
+12 p. Mitts.<br>
+6 p. White Kid Gloves.<br>
+1 p. Silver Shoe Buckles.<br>
+1 p. Neat Sleeve Buttons.<br>
+6 Handsome Egrettes Different Sorts.<br>
+6 Yards Ribbon for Egrettes.<br>
+12 Yards Coarse Green Callimanco.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>A Virginia gentleman, Colonel William Fleming, kept for several years a
+close account of the money he spent for his little daughters, who were
+young misses of ten and eleven in the year 1787. The most expensive single
+items are bonnets, each at &pound;4 10s.; an umbrella, &pound;2 8s. Cloth
+cloaks and saddles and bridles for riding were costly items. Tamboured
+muslin was at that time 18s. a yard; durant, 3s. 6d.; lutestring, 12s.;
+calico, 6s. 3d. Scarlet cloaks for each girl cost &pound;2 14s. each. Other
+dress materials besides those named above were cambric, linen, cotton,
+osnaburgs, negro cotton, book-muslin, ermin, nankeen, persian, Turkey
+cotton, shalloon, and swanskin. There were many yards of taste and ribbon,
+black lace, and edgings, and gauze--gauze--gauze. A curious item several
+times appearing is a &quot;paper bonnet,&quot; not bonnet-paper, which
+latter was a constant purchase on women's lists. There were pen-knives,
+&quot;scanes of silk,&quot; crooked combs, morocco shoes, &quot;nitting
+pins,&quot; constant &quot;sticks of pomatum,&quot; fans,
+&quot;chanes,&quot; a shawl, a tamboured coat, gloves, stockings, trunks,
+bands and clasps, tooth-brushes, silk gloves, necklaces, &quot;fingered
+gloves,&quot; silk stockings, handkerchiefs, china teacups and saucers and
+silver spoons. All these show a very generous outfit.</p>
+
+<p>In the year 1770 a delightful, engaging little child came to Boston from
+Nova Scotia to live for a time with her aunt, a Boston gentlewoman, and to
+attend Boston schools. For the amusement of her parents so far away, and
+for practice in penmanship, she kept during the years 1771 and part of 1772
+a diary. She was but ten years old when she began, but her intelligence and
+originality make this diary a valuable record of domestic life in Boston at
+that date. I have had the pleasure of publishing her diary with notes under
+the title, <i>Diary of Anna Green Winslow, a Boston School Girl, in the
+Year 1771</i>. I lived so much with her while transcribing her words that
+she seems almost like a child of my own. Like other unusual children she
+died young--when but nineteen. She was not so gifted and wonderful and rare
+a creature as that star among children, Marjorie Fleming, yet she was in
+many ways equally interesting; she was a frank, homely little flower of New
+England life destined never to grow old or weary, or tired or sad, but to
+live forever in eternal, happy childhood, through the magic living words in
+the hundred pages of her time-stained diary.</p>
+
+<p>She was of what Dr. Holmes called Boston Brahmin blood, was related to
+many of the wealthiest and best families of Boston and vicinity, and knew
+the best society. Dress was to her a matter of distinct importance, and her
+clothes were carefully fashionable. Her distress over wearing &quot;an old
+red Domino&quot; was genuine. We have in her words many references to her
+garments, and we find her dress very handsome. This is what she wore at a
+child's party:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I was dressed in my yellow coat, black bib &amp; apron,
+black feathers on my head, my past comb &amp; all my past garnet,
+marquesett &amp; jet pins, together with my silver plume--my loket, rings,
+black collar round my neck, black mitts &amp; yards of blue ribbin (black
+&amp; blue is high tast), striped tucker &amp; ruffels (not my best) &amp;
+my silk shoes completed my dress.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>A few days later she writes:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I wore my black bib &amp; apron, my pompedore shoes, the
+cap my Aunt Storer since presented me with (blue ribbins on it) &amp; a
+very handsome locket in the shape of a hart she gave me, the past Pin my
+Hon'd Papa presented me with in my cap. My new cloak &amp; bonnet, my
+pompedore gloves, &amp;c. And I would tell you that <i>for the first time
+they all on lik'd my dress very much</i>. My cloak &amp; bonnett are
+really very handsome &amp; so they had need be. For they cost an amasing
+sight of money, not quite &pound;45, tho' Aunt Suky said that she suppos'd
+Aunt Deming would be frighted out of her Wits at the money it cost. I have
+got <i>one</i> covering by the cost that is genteel &amp; I like it much
+myself.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>As this was in the times of depreciated values, &pound;45 was not so
+large a sum to expend for a girl's outdoor garments as at first sight
+appears.</p>
+
+<p>She gives a very exact account of her successions of head-gear, some
+being borrowed finery. She apparently managed to rise entirely above the
+hated &quot;black hatt&quot; and red domino, which she patronizingly said
+would be &quot;Decent for Common Occations.&quot; She writes:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Last Thursday I purchased with my aunt Deming's leave a
+very beautiful white feather hat, that is the outside, which is a bit of
+white hollowed with the feathers sew'd on in a most curious manner; white
+and unsully'd as the falling snow. As I am, as we say, a Daughter of
+Liberty I chuse to were as much of our own manufactory as pocible.... My
+Aunt says if I behave myself very well indeed, not else, she will give me a
+garland of flowers to orniment it, tho' she has layd aside the biziness of
+flower-making.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>The dress described and portrayed of these children all seems very
+mature; but children were quickly grown up in colonial days. Cotton Mather
+wrote, &quot;New English youth are very sharp and early ripe in their
+capacities.&quot; They married early; though none of the
+&quot;child-marriages&quot; of England disfigure the pages of our history.
+Sturdy Endicott would not permit the marriage of his ward, Rebecca Cooper,
+an &quot;inheritrice,&quot;--though Governor Winthrop wished her for his
+nephew,--because the girl was but fifteen. I am surprised at this, for
+marriages at fifteen were common enough. My far-away grandmother, Mary
+Burnet, married William Browne, when she was fourteen; another grandmother,
+Mary Philips, married her cousin at thirteen, and there is every evidence
+that the match was arranged with little heed of the girl's wishes. It was
+the happiest of marriages. Boys became men by law when sixteen. Winthrop
+named his son as executor of his will when the boy was fourteen--but there
+were few boys like that boy. We find that the Virginia tutor who taught in
+the Carter family just previous to the war of the Revolution deemed a young
+lady of thirteen no longer a child.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Miss_Lydia_Robinson"></a>
+<img src="images\331.png" alt="Miss Lydia Robinson, aged 12 Years">
+<H4>Miss Lydia Robinson, aged 12 Years, Daughter of Colonel
+James Robinson. Marked &quot;Corn&eacute; pinxt, Sept. 1805.&quot;</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Miss Betsy Lee is about thirteen, a tall, slim, genteel
+girl. She is very far from Miss Hale's taciturnity, yet is by no means
+disagreeably Forward. She dances extremely well, and is just beginning to
+play the Spinet. She is dressed in a neat Shell Callico Gown, has very
+light Hair done up with a Feather, and her whole carriage is Inoffensive,
+Easy and Graceful.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>The christening of an infant was not only a sacrament of the church, and
+thus of highest importance, but it was also of secular note. It was a time
+of great rejoicing, of good wishes, of gift-making. In mediaeval times, the
+child was arrayed by the priest in a white robe which had been anointed
+with sacred oil, and called a chrismale, or a chrisom. If the child died
+within a month, it was buried in this robe and called a chrisom-child. The
+robe was also called a christening palm or pall. When the custom of
+redressing the child in a robe at the altar had passed away, the
+christening palm still was used and was thrown over the child when it was
+brought out to receive visitors. This robe was also termed a bearing-cloth,
+a christening sheet, and a cade-cloth.</p>
+
+<p>This fine coverlet of state, what we would now call a christening
+blanket, was usually made of silk; often it was richly embroidered,
+sometimes with a text of Scripture. It was generally lace-bordered, or
+edged with a narrow, home-woven silk fringe. The christening-blanket of
+Governor Bradford of the Plymouth Colony still is owned by a descendant; it
+is whole of fabric and unfaded of dye. It is rich crimson silk, soft of
+texture, like heavy sarcenet silk, and is powdered at regular distances
+about six inches apart with conventional sprays of flowers, embroidered
+chiefly in pink and yellow, in minute silk cross-stitch. Another beautiful
+silk christening blanket was quilted in an intricate flower pattern in
+almost imperceptible stitches. Another of yellow satin has a design in
+white floss that gives it the appearance of being trimmed with white silk
+lace. Best of all was to embroider the cloth with designs and initials and
+emblems and biblical references. A coat-of-arms or crest was very elegant.
+The words, &quot;God Bless the Babe,&quot; were not left wholly to the
+pincushions which every babe had given him or her, but appeared on the
+christening blanket. A curious design shown me was called <i>The Tree of
+Knowledge</i>. The figure of a child in cap, apron, bib, and hanging
+sleeves stands pointing to a tree upon which grew books as though they were
+apples. The open pages of each book-apple is printed with a title, as,
+<i>The New England Primer, Lilly's Grammar, Janeway's Holy Children, The
+Prodigal Daughter.</i></p>
+
+<p>An inventory of the christening garments of a child in the seventeenth
+century reads thus:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;1. A lined white figured satin cap.<br>
+2. A lined white satin cap embroidered in sprays with gold coloured silk.<br>
+3. A white satin palm embroidered in sprays of yellow silk to match.
+This is 44 inches by 34 inches in size.<br>
+4. A palm of rich 'still yellow' silk lined with white satin. This is 54
+inches by 48 inches in size.<br>
+5. A pair of deep cuffs of white satin, lace trimmed and embroidered.<br>
+6. A pair of linen mittens trimmed with narrow lace, the back of the
+fingers outlined with yellow silk figures.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Knitted_Flaxen_Mittens."></a>
+<img src="images\334.png" alt="Knitted Flaxen Mittens.">
+<H4>Knitted Flaxen Mittens.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The satin cuffs were for the wear of the older person who carried the
+child. The infant was placed upon the larger palm or cloth, and the smaller
+one thrown over him, over his petticoats. The inner cap was very tight to
+the head. The outer was embroidered; often it turned back in a band.</p>
+
+<p>There was a significance in the use of yellow; it is the altar color for
+certain church festivals, and was proper for the pledging of the child.</p>
+
+<p>All these formalities of christening in the Church of England were not
+abandoned by the Separatists. New England children were just as carefully
+christened and dressed for christening as any child in the Church of
+England. In the reign of James I tiny shirts with little bands or sleeves
+or cuffs wrought in silk or in coventry-blue thread were added to the gift
+of spoons from the sponsors. I have one of these little coventry-blue
+embroidered things with quaint little sleeves; too faded, I regret, to
+reveal any pattern to the camera.</p>
+
+<p>The christening shirts and mittens given by the sponsors are said to be
+a relic of the ancient custom of presenting white clothes to the neophytes
+when converted to Christianity. These &quot;Christening Sets&quot; are
+preserved in many families.</p>
+
+<p>Of the dress of infants of colonial times we can judge from the articles
+of clothing which have been preserved till this day. These are of course
+the better garments worn by babies, not their everyday dress; their simpler
+attire has not survived, but their christening robes, their finer shirts
+and petticoats and caps remain.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Mrs._Elizabeth_Lux_Russell_and_Daughter"></a>
+<img src="images\336.png" alt="Mrs. Elizabeth Lux Russell and Daughter.">
+<H4>Mrs. Elizabeth Lux Russell and Daughter.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Linen formed the chilling substructure of their dress, thin linen,
+low-necked, short-sleeved shirts; and linen remained the underwear of
+infants until thirty years ago. I do not wonder that these little linen
+shirts were worn for centuries. They are infinitely daintier than the
+finest silk or woollen underwear that have succeeded them; they are edged
+with narrowest thread lace, and hemstitched with tiny rows of stitches or
+corded with tiny cords, and sometimes embroidered by hand in minute
+designs. They were worn by all babies from the time of James I, never
+varying one stitch in shape; but I fear this pretty garment of which our
+infants were bereft a few years ago will never crowd out the warm,
+present-day silk wear. This wholly infantile article of childish dress had
+tiny little revers or collarettes or laps made to turn over outside the
+robe or slip like a minute bib, and these laps were beautifully oversewn
+where the corners joined the shirt, to prevent tearing down at this seam.
+These tiny shirts were the dearest little garments ever made or dreamed of.
+When a baby had on a fresh, corded slip, low of neck, with short, puffed
+sleeve, and the tiny hemstitched laps were turned down outside the neck of
+the slip, and the little sleeves were caught up by fine strings of
+gold-clasped pink coral, the baby's dimpled shoulders and round head rose
+up out of the little shirt-laps like some darling flower.</p>
+
+<p>I have seen an infant's shirt and a cap embroidered on the laps with the
+coat-of-arms of the Lux and Johnson families and the motto, &quot;God Bless
+the Babe;&quot; these delicate garments, the work of fairies, were worn in
+infancy by the Revolutionary soldier, Governor Johnson of Virginia.</p>
+
+<p>In the Essex Institute in Salem, Massachusetts, are the baptismal shirt
+and mittens of the Pilgrim father, William Bradford, second governor of the
+Plymouth colony, who was born in 1590. They are shown <a
+href="#Christening_Shirt_and_Mitts_of_Governor_Bradford">here</a>. All are
+of firm, close-woven, homespun linen, but the little mittens have been worn
+at the ends by the active friction of baby hands, and are patched with red
+and yellow figured &quot;chiney&quot; or calico. A similar colored material
+frills the sleeves and neck. This may have been part of their ornamentation
+when first made, but it looks extraneous.</p>
+
+<p>The sleeves of this shirt are plaited or goffered in a way that seems
+wholly lost; this is what I have already described--<i>pinching</i>. I have
+seen the sleeve of a child's dress thus pinched which had been worn by a
+little girl aged three. The wrist-cuff measured about five inches around,
+and was stoutly corded. Upon ripping the sleeve apart, it was found that
+the strip of fine mull which was thus pinched into the sleeve was two yards
+in length. The cuff flared slightly, else even this length of sheer lawn
+could not have been confined at the wrist. In the so-called
+&quot;Museum,&quot; gloomily scattered around the famous old South Church
+edifice in Boston, are fine examples of this pinched work.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Christening_Shirt_and_Mitts_of_Governor_Bradford"></a>
+<img src="images\338.png" alt="Christening Shirt and Mitts of Governor Bradford.">
+<H4>Christening Shirt and Mitts of Governor Bradford.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Many of the finest existing specimens of old guipure, Flanders, and
+needlepoint laces in England and America are preserved on the ancient
+shirts, mitts, caps, and bearing-cloths of infants. Often there is a little
+padded bib of guipure lace accompanied with tiny mittens like these.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Flanders_Lace_Mitts."></a>
+<img src="images\339.png" alt="Flanders Lace Mitts.">
+<H4>Flanders Lace Mitts.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>This pair was wrought and worn in the sixteenth century, and the
+stitches and work are those of the Flanders point laces. I have seen tiny
+mitts knitted of silk, of fine linen thread, also made of linen,
+hem-stitched, or worked in drawn-work, or embroidered, and one pair of
+mittens, and the cap that matched was of tatting-work done in the finest of
+thread. No needlepoint could be more beautiful. Some are shown on <a
+href="#Flanders_Lace_Mitts.">here</a>.</p>
+
+<p>Mitts of yellow nankeen or silk, made with long wrists or arms, were
+also worn by babies, and must have proved specially irritating to tiny
+little hands and arms. These had the seams sewed over and over with colored
+silks in a curiously intricate netted stitch.</p>
+
+<p>I have an infant's cap with two squares of lace set in the crown, one
+over each ear. The lace is of a curious design; a conventionalized vase or
+urn on a standard. I recognize it as the lace and pattern known as
+&quot;pot-lace,&quot; made for centuries at Antwerp, and worn there by old
+women on their caps with a devotion to a single pattern that is
+unparalleled. It was the &quot;flower-pot&quot; symbol of the Annunciation.
+The earliest representation of the Angel Gabriel in the Annunciation showed
+him with lilies in his hand; then these lilies were set in a vase. In years
+the angel has disappeared and then the lilies, and the lily-pot only
+remains. It is a whimsical fancy that this symbol of Romanism should have
+been carefully transferred to adorn the pate of a child of the Puritans.
+The place of the medallion, set over each ear, is so unusual that I think
+it must have had some significance. I wonder whether they were ever set
+thus in caps of heavy silk or linen to let the child hear more readily, as
+he certainly would through the thin lace net.</p>
+
+<p>The word &quot;beguine&quot; meant a nun; and thus derivatively a nun's
+close cap. This was altered in spelling to biggin, and for a time a nun's
+plain linen cap was thus called. By Shakespere's day biggin had become
+wholly a term for a child's cap. It was a plain phrase and a plain cap of
+linen. Shakespere calls them &quot;homely biggens.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I have seen it stated that the biggin was a night-cap. When Queen
+Elizabeth lost her mother, Anne Boleyn, she was but three years old, a
+neglected little creature. A lady of the court wrote that the child had
+&quot;no manner of linen, nor for-smocks, nor kerchiefs, nor rails, nor
+body-stitches, nor handkerchiefs, nor sleeves, nor mufflers, nor
+biggins.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In 1636 Mary Dudley, the daughter of Governor John Winthrop, had a
+little baby. She did not live in Boston town, therefore her mother had to
+purchase supplies for her; and many letters crossed, telling of wants, and
+their relief. &quot;Holland for biggins&quot; was eagerly sought. At that
+date all babies wore caps. I mean English and French, Dutch and Spanish,
+all mothers deemed it unwise and almost improper for a young baby ever to
+be seen bare-headed. With the imperfect heating and many draughts in all
+the houses, this mode of dress may have been wholly wise and indeed
+necessary. Every child's head was covered, as the pictures of children in
+this book show, until he or she was several years old. The finest
+needlework and lace stitches were lavished on these tiny infants' caps,
+which were not, when thus adorned and ornamented, called biggins.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Infant's_Adjustable_Cap."></a>
+<img src="images\341.png" alt="Infant's Adjustable Cap.">
+<H4>Infant's Adjustable Cap.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>A favorite trimming for night-caps and infants' caps is a sort of
+quilting in a leaf and vine pattern, done with a white cord inserted
+between outer and inner pieces of linen--a cord stuffing, as it were. It
+does not seem oversuited for caps to be worn in bed or by little infants,
+as the stiff cords must prove a disagreeable cushion. This work was done as
+early as the seventeenth century; but nearly all the pieces preserved were
+made in the early years of the nineteenth century in the revival of
+needlework then so universal.</p>
+
+<p>Often a velvet cap was worn outside the biggin or lace cap.</p>
+
+<p>I have never seen a woollen petticoat that was worn by an infant of
+pre-Revolutionary days. I think infants had no woollen petticoats; their
+shirts, petticoats, and gowns were of linen or some cotton stuff like
+dimity. Warmth of clothing was given by tiny shawls pinned round the
+shoulders, and heavier blankets and quilts and shawls in which baby and
+petticoats were wholly enveloped.</p>
+
+<p>The baby dresses of olden times are either rather shapeless sacques
+drawn in at the neck with narrow cotton ferret or linen bobbin, or little
+straight-waisted gowns of state. All were exquisitely made by hand, and
+usually of fine stuff. Many are trimmed with fine cording.</p>
+
+<p>It is astounding to note the infinite number of stitches put in
+garments. An infant's slips quilted with a single tiny backstitch in a
+regular design of interlaced squares, stars, and rounds. By counting the
+number of rounds and the stitches in each, and so on, it has been found
+that there are 397,000 stitches in that dress. Think of the time spent even
+by the quickest sewer over such a piece of work.</p>
+
+<p>Within a few years we have shortened the long clothes worn by youngest
+infants; twenty-five years ago the handsome dress of an infant, such as the
+christening-robe, was so long that when the child was held on the arm of
+its standing nurse or mother, the edge of the robe barely escaped touching
+the ground. Two hundred years ago, a baby's dress was much shorter. In the
+family group of Charles I and Henrietta Maria and their children, in the
+Copley family picture, and in the picture of the Cadwalader family, we find
+the little baby in scarce &quot;three-quarters length&quot; of robe. With
+this exception it is astonishing to find how little infants' dress has
+changed during the two centuries. In 1889, at the Stuart Exhibition, some
+of the infant dresses of Charles I were shown. They had been preserved in
+the family of Sir Thomas Coventry, Lord Keeper. And Charles II's baby linen
+was on view in the New Gallery in 1901. Both sets had the dainty little
+shirts, slips, bibs, mitts, and all the babies' dress of fifty years ago,
+and the changes since then have been few. The &quot;barrow-coat,&quot; a
+square of flannel wrapped around an infant's body below the arms with the
+part below the feet turned up and pinned, was part of the old
+swaddling-clothes; and within ten years it has been largely abandoned for a
+flannel petticoat on a band or waist. The bands, or binders, have always
+been the same as to-day, and the bibs. The lace cuffs and lace mittens were
+left off before the caps. The shirt is the most important change.</p>
+
+<p>Nowadays a little infant wears long clothes till three, four, or even
+eight months old; then he is put in short dresses about as long as he is.
+In colonial days when a boy was taken from his swaddling-clothes, he was
+dressed in a short frock with petticoats and was &quot;coated&quot; or
+sometimes &quot;short-coated.&quot; When he left off coats, he donned
+breeches. In families of sentiment and affection, the &quot;coating&quot;
+of a boy was made a little festival. So was also the assumption of breeches
+an important event--as it really is, as we all know who have boys.</p>
+
+<p>One of the most charming of all grandmothers' letters was written by a
+doting English grandmother to her son. Lord Chief Justice North, telling of
+the &quot;leaving off of coats&quot; of his motherless little son, Francis
+Guilford, then six years old. The letter is dated October 10, 1679:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;DEAR SON:<br> You cannot beleeve the great concerne
+that was in the whole family here last Wednesday, it being the day that
+the taylor was to helpe to dress little ffrank in his breeches in order to
+the making an everyday suit by it. Never had any bride that was to be
+drest upon her weding night more handes about her, some the legs, some the
+armes, the taylor butt'ning, and others putting on the sword, and so many
+lookers on that had I not a ffinger amongst I could not have seen him.
+When he was quite drest he acted his part as well as any of them for he
+desired he might goe downe to inquire for the little gentleman that was
+there the day before in a black coat, and speak to the man to tell the
+gentleman when he came from school that there was a gallant with very fine
+clothes and a sword to have waited upon him and would come again upon
+Sunday next. But this was not all, there was great contrivings while he
+was dressing who should have the first salute; but he sayd if old Joan had
+been here, she should, but he gave it to me to quiett them all. They were
+very fitt, everything, and he looks taller and prettyer than in his coats.
+Little Charles rejoyced as much as he did for he jumpt all the while about
+him and took notice of everything. I went to Bury, and bot everything for
+another suitt which will be finisht on Saturday so the coats are to be
+quite left off on Sunday. I consider it is not yett terme time and since
+you could not have the pleasure of the first sight, I resolved you should
+have a full relation from<br> <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &quot;Yo'r most
+Aff'nate Mother<br> <br> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &quot;A. North.<br> <br>
+&quot;When he was drest he asked Buckle whether muffs were out of fashion
+because they had not sent him one.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>This affectionate letter, written to a great and busy statesman, the
+Lord Keeper of the Seals, shows how pure and delightful domestic life in
+England could be; it shows how beautiful it was after Puritanism perfected
+the English home.</p>
+
+<p>In an old family letter dated 1780 I find this sentence:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Mary is most wise with her child, and hath no
+new-fangledness. She has little David in what she wore herself, a pudding
+and pinner.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>For a time these words &quot;pudding and pinner&quot; were a puzzle; and
+long after pinner was defined we could not even guess at a pudding. But now
+I know two uses of the word &quot;pudding&quot; which are in no dictionary.
+One is the stuffing of a man's great neck-cloth in front, under the chin.
+The other is a thick roll or cushion stuffed with wool or some soft filling
+and furnished with strings. This pudding was tied round the head of a
+little child while it was learning to walk. The head was thus protected
+from serious bruises or injury. Nollekens noted with satisfaction such a
+pudding on the head of an infant, and said: &quot;That is right. I always
+wore a pudding, and all children should.&quot; I saw one upon a child's
+head last summer in a New England town; I asked the mother what it was, and
+she answered, &quot;A pudding-cap&quot;; that it made children soft
+(idiotic) to bump the head frequently.</p>
+
+<p>The word &quot;pinner&quot; has two meanings. The earlier use was
+precisely that of pinafore, or pincurtle, or pincloth--a child's apron.
+Thus we read in the Harvard College records, of the expenses of the year
+1677, of &quot;Linnen Cloth for Table Pinners,&quot; which makes us suspect
+that Harvard students of that day had to wear bibs at commons.</p>
+
+<p>All children wore aprons, which might be called pinners; these were
+aprons with pinned-up bibs; or they might be tiers, which were sleeved
+aprons covering the whole waist, sleeves, and skirt, an outer slip,
+buttoned in the back.</p>
+
+<p>A severe and ancient moralist looked forth from her window in Worcester,
+one day last spring, at a band of New England children running to their
+morning school. She gazed over her glasses reprovingly, and turned to me
+with bitterness: &quot;There they go! <i>Such</i> mothers as they must
+have! Not a pinner nor a sleeved tier among 'em.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sleeved tier occupied a singular place in childish opinion in my
+youth; and I find the same feeling anent it had existed for many
+generations. It was hated by all children, regarded as something to be
+escaped from at the earliest possible date. You had to wear sleeved tiers
+as you had to have the mumps. It was a thing to endure with what childish
+patience and fortitude you could command for a short time; but thoughtful,
+tender parents would not make you suffer it long.</p>
+
+<p>There were aprons, and aprons. Pinners and tiers were for use, but there
+were elegant aprons for ornament. Did not Queen Anne wear one? Even babies
+wore them. The little Padishal child has one richly laced. I have seen a
+beautiful apron for a little child of three. It was edged with a straight
+insertion of Venetian point like that pictured <a
+href="#Old_Venice_Point_Lace.">here</a>. It had been made in 1690. Tender
+affection for a beloved and beautiful little child preserved it in one
+trunk in the same attic for sixty-five years; and a beautiful sympathy for
+that mother's long sorrow kept the apron untouched by young lace-lovers.
+This lace has white horsehair woven into the edge.</p>
+
+<p>We find George Washington ordering for his little stepdaughter (a
+well-dressed child if ever there was one), when she was six years old,
+&quot;A fashionable cap or fillet with bib apron.&quot; And a few years
+later he orders, &quot;Tuckers, Bibs, and Aprons if Fashionable.&quot; Boys
+wore aprons as long as they wore coats; aprons with stomachers or bibs of
+drawn-work and lace, or of stiffly starched lawn; aprons just like those of
+their sisters. It was hard to bear. Hoop-coat, masks, packthread
+stays--these seem strange dress for growing girls.</p>
+
+<p>George Washington sent abroad for masks for his wife and his little
+stepdaughter, &quot;Miss Custis,&quot; when the little girl was six years
+old; and &quot;children's masks&quot; are often named in bills of sale.
+Loo-masks were small half-masks, and were also imported in all sizes.</p>
+
+<p>The face of Mrs. Madison, familiarly known as &quot;Dolly Madison,&quot;
+wife of President James Madison, long retained the beauty of youth. Much of
+this was surely due to a faithful mother, who, when little Dolly Payne was
+sent to school, sewed a sun-bonnet on the child's head every morning,
+placed on her arms and hands long gloves, and made her wear a mask to keep
+every ray of sunlight from her face. When masks were so universally worn by
+women, it is not strange, after all, that children wore them.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Rev._J.P._Dabney_when_a_Child."></a>
+<img src="images\348.png" alt="Rev. J.P. Dabney when a Child.">
+<H4>Rev. J.P. Dabney when a Child.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>I read with horror an advertisement of John McQueen, a New York
+stay-maker in 1767, that he has children's packthread stays, children's
+bone stays, and &quot;neat polished steel collars for young Misses so much
+worn at the boarding schools in London.&quot; Poor little &quot;young
+Misses&quot;!</p>
+
+<p>There were also &quot;turned stays, jumps, gazzets, costrells and
+caushets&quot; (which were perhaps corsets) to make children appear
+straight. Costrells and gazzets we know not to-day. Jumps were feeble
+stays.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Now a shape in neat stays<br>
+Now a slattern in jumps.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Robert_Gibbes."></a>
+<img src="images\349.png" alt="Robert Gibbes.">
+<H4>Robert Gibbes.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Jumps were allied to jimps, and perhaps to jupe; and I think jumper is a
+cousin of a word. One pair of stays I have seen is labelled as having been
+made for a boy of five. One of the worst instruments of torture I ever
+beheld was a pair of child's stays worn in 1760. They were made, not of
+little strips of wood, but of a large piece of board, front and back,
+tightly sewed into a buckram jacket and re&euml;nforced across at right
+angles and diagonally over the hips (though really there were no
+hip-places) with bars of whalebone and steel. The tin corsets I have heard
+of would not have been half as ill to wear. It is true, too, that needles
+were placed in the front of the stays, that the stay-wearer who &quot;poked
+her head&quot; would be well pricked. The daughter of General Nathanael
+Greene, the Revolutionary patriot, told her grandchildren that she sat many
+hours every day in her girlhood, with her feet in stocks and strapped to a
+backboard. A friend has a chair of ordinary size, save that the seat is
+about four inches wide from the front edge of seat to the back. And the
+back is well worn at certain points where a heavy leather strap strapped up
+the young girl who was tortured in it for six years of her life. The result
+of back board, stocks, steel collar, wooden stays, is shown in such figures
+as have Dorothy Q. and her sister Elizabeth. Elizabeth Storer, on page 98
+of my <i>Child Life in Colonial Days</i>, is an extreme example,
+straight-backed indeed, but narrow-chested to match.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Holmes wrote in jest, but he wrote in truth, too:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;They braced My Aunt against a board<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; To make her straight and tall,<br>
+&nbsp;They laced her up, they starved her down,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; To make her light and small.<br>
+&nbsp;They pinched her feet, they singed her hair,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; They screwed it up with pins,<br>
+&nbsp;Oh, never mortal suffered more<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; In penance for her sins.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Nankeen_Breeches_with_Silver_Buttons."></a>
+<img src="images\351.png" alt="Nankeen Breeches with Silver Buttons.">
+<H4>Nankeen Breeches with Silver Buttons.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Nankeen was the favorite wear for boys, even before the Revolution. The
+little figure of the boy who became Lord Lyndhurst, shown in the Copley
+family portrait, is dressed in nankeen; he is the engaging, loving child
+looking up in his mother's face. Nankeen was worn summer and winter by men,
+and women, and children. If it were deemed too thin and too damp a wear for
+delicate children in extreme winters, then a yellow color in wool was
+preferred for children's dress. I have seen a little pair of breeches of
+yellow flannel made precisely like these nankeen breeches on this page.
+They were worn in 1768. Carlyle in his <i>Sartor Resartus</i> gives this
+account of the childhood of the professor and philosopher of his
+book:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;My first short clothes were of yellow serge; or rather, I
+should say, my first short cloth; for the vesture was one and indivisible,
+reaching from neck to ankle; a single body with four limbs; of which
+fashion how little could I then divine the architectural, much less the
+moral significance.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Ralph_Izard_when_a_Little_Boy._1750."></a>
+<img src="images\352.png" alt="Ralph Izard when a Little Boy. 1750.">
+<H4>Ralph Izard when a Little Boy. 1750.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>It is a curious coincidence that a great philosopher of our own world
+wore a precisely similar dress in his youth. Madam Mary Bradford writes in
+a private letter, at the age of one hundred and three, of her life in 1805
+in the household of Rev. Joseph Emerson. Ralph Waldo Emerson was then a
+little child of two years, and he and his brother William till several
+years old were dressed wholly in yellow flannel, by night and by day. When
+they put on trousers, which was at about the age of seven, they wore
+complete home-made suits of nankeen. The picture amuses me of the
+philosophical child, Ralph Waldo, walking soberly around in ugly yellow
+flannel, contentedly sucking his thumb; for Mrs. Bradford records that he
+was the hardest child to break of sucking his thumb whom she ever had seen
+during her long life. I cannot help wondering whether in their soul-to-soul
+talks Emerson ever told Carlyle of the yellow woollen dress of his
+childhood, and thus gave him the thought of the child's dress for his
+philosopher.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately for the children who were our grandparents. French fashions
+were not absorbingly the rage in America until after some amelioration of
+dress had come to French children. Mercier wrote at length at the close of
+the eighteenth century of the abominable artificiality and restraint in
+dress of French children; their great wigs, full-skirted coats, immense
+ruffles, swords on thigh, and hat in hand. He contrasts them disparagingly
+with English boys. The English boy was certainly more robust, but I find no
+difference in dress. Wigs, swords, ruffles, may be seen at that time both
+in English and American portraits. But an amelioration of dress did come to
+both English and American boys through the introduction of pantaloons, and
+a change to little girls' dress through the invention of pantalets, but the
+changes came first to France, in spite of Mercier's animadversions. These
+changes will be left until the later pages of this book; for during nearly
+all the two hundred years of which I write children's dress varied little.
+It followed the changes of the parent's dress, and adopted some modes to a
+degree but never to an extreme.</p>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="#XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>PERUKES AND PERIWIGS</h3>
+<blockquote><i>&quot;As to a Periwigg, my best and Greatest Friend begun to
+find me with Hair before I was Born, and has continued to do so ever since,
+and I could not find it in my Heart to go to another.&quot;<br></i> <br>
+--&quot;Diary,&quot; JUDGE SAMUEL SEWALL, 1718.<br> <br><br>
+<i>A phrensy or a periwigmanee<br>
+That over-runs his pericranie.</i><br>
+<br>
+--JOHN BYRON, 1730 (circa).<br></blockquote>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>PERUKES AND PERIWIGS</h3>
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\initialt.png" align=left
+alt="T">o-day, when every man, save a football player or some eccentric
+reformer or religious fanatic, displays in youth a close-cropped head, and
+when even hoary age is seldom graced with flowing, silvery locks, when
+women's hair is dressed in simplicity, we can scarcely realize the
+important and formal part the hair played in the dress of the eighteenth
+century.</p>
+
+<p>In the great eagerness shown from earliest colonial days to acquire and
+reproduce in the New World every change of mode in the Old, to purchase
+rich dress, and to assume novel dress, no article was sought for more
+speedily and more anxiously than the wig. It has proved an interesting
+study to compare the introduction of wigs in England with the wear of the
+same form of head-gear in America. Wigs were not in general use in England
+when Plymouth and Boston were settled; though in Elizabeth's day a
+&quot;peryuke&quot; had been bought for the court fool. They were not in
+universal wear till the close of the seventeenth century.</p>
+
+<p>The &quot;Wig Mania&quot; arose in France in the reign of Louis XV. In
+1656 the king had forty court perruquiers, who were termed and deemed
+artists, and had their academy. The wigs they produced were superb. It is
+told that one cost &pound;200, a sum equal in purchasing power to-day to
+$5000. The French statesman and financier, Colbert, aghast at the vast sums
+spent for foreign hair, endeavored to introduce a sort of cap to supplant
+the wig, but fashions are not made that way.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Governor_and_Reverend_Gurdon_Saltonstall."></a>
+<img src="images\356.png" alt="Governor and Reverend Gurdon Saltonstall.">
+<H4>Governor and Reverend Gurdon Saltonstall.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>For information of English manners and customs in that day, I turn (and
+never in vain) to those fascinating volumes, the <i>Verney Memoirs</i>.
+From them I learn this of early wig-wearing by Englishmen; that Sir Ralph
+Verney, though in straitened circumstances during his enforced residence
+abroad, felt himself compelled to follow the French mode, which at that
+period, 1646, had not reached England. That exemplary gentleman paid twelve
+livres for a wig, when he was sadly short of money for household
+necessaries. It was an elaborate wig, curled in great rings, with two locks
+tied with black ribbon, and made without any parting at the back. This wig
+was powdered.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Ralph wrote to his wife that a good hair-powder was very difficult
+to get and costly, even in France. It was an appreciable addition to the
+weight of the wig and to the expense, large quantities being used,
+sometimes as much as two pounds at a time. It added not only to the
+expense, but to the discomfort, inconvenience, and untidiness of
+wig-wearing.</p>
+
+<p>Pomatum made of fat, and that sometimes rancid, was used to make the
+powder stick; and noxious substances were introduced into the powder, as a
+certain kind is mentioned which must not be used alone, for it would
+produce headache.</p>
+
+<p>Charles II was the earliest king represented on the Great Seal wearing a
+large periwig. Dr. Doran assures us that the king did not bring the fashion
+to Whitehall. &quot;He forbade,&quot; we are told, &quot;the members of the
+Universities to wear periwigs, smoke tobacco, or read their sermons. The
+members did all three, and Charles soon found himself doing the first
+two.&quot;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Mayor_Rip_Van_Dam."></a>
+<img src="images\357.png" alt="Mayor Rip Van Dam.">
+<H4>Mayor Rip Van Dam.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Pepys's <i>Diary</i> contains much interesting information concerning
+the wigs of this reign. On 2d of November, 1663, he writes: &quot;I heard
+the Duke say that he was going to wear a periwig, and says the King also
+will, never till this day observed that the King is mighty gray.&quot; It
+was doubtless this change in the color of his Majesty's hair that induced
+him to assume the head-dress he had previously so strongly condemned.</p>
+
+<p>The wig he adopted was very voluminous, richly curled, and black. He was
+very dark. &quot;Odds fish! but I'm an ugly black fellow!&quot; he said of
+himself when he looked at his portrait. Loyal colonists quickly followed
+royal example and complexion. We have very good specimens of this curly
+black wig in many American portraits.</p>
+
+<p>As might be expected, and as befitted one who delighted to be in
+fashion, Pepys adopted this wig. He took time to consider the matter, and
+had consultations with Mr. Jervas, his old barber, about the affair.
+Referring to one of his visits to his hairdresser, Pepys says:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I did try two or three borders and periwigs, meaning to
+wear one, and yet I have no stomach for it; but that the pains of keeping
+my hair clean is great. He trimmed me, and at last I parted, but my mind
+was almost altered from my first purpose, from the trouble which I foresee
+in wearing them also.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Weeks passed before he could make up his mind to wear a wig. Mrs. Pepys
+was taken to the periwig-maker's shop to see one, and expressed her
+satisfaction with it. We read in April, 1665, of the wig being back at
+Jervas's under repair. Later, under date of September 3d, he writes:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Lord's day. Up; and put on my coloured silk suit, very
+fine, and my new periwig, bought a good while since, but durst not wear,
+because the plague was in Westminster when I bought it; and it is a wonder
+what will be in fashion, after the plague is done, as to periwigs, for
+nobody will dare to buy any hair, for fear of the infection, that it had
+been cut off the heads of people dead of the
+plague.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>In 1670, only, five years after this entry of Pepys, we find Governor
+Barefoot of New Hampshire wearing a periwig; and in 1675 the court of
+Massachusetts, in view of the distresses of the Indian wars, denounced the
+&quot;manifest pride openly appearing amongst us in that long hair, like
+women's hair is worn by some men, either their own hair, or others' hair
+made into periwigs.&quot;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Abraham_De_Peyster."></a>
+<img src="images\359.png" alt="Abraham De Peyster.">
+<H4>Abraham De Peyster.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In 1676 Wait Winthrop sent a wig (price &pound;3) to his brother in New
+London. Mr. Sergeant had brought it from England for his own use; but was
+willing to sell it to oblige a friend, who was, I am confident, very
+devoted to wig-wearing. The largest wig that I recall upon any colonist's
+head is in the portrait of Governor Fitz-John Winthrop. He is painted in
+armor; and a great wig never seems so absurd as when worn with armor.
+Horace Walpole said, &quot;Perukes of outrageous length flowing over suits
+of armour compose wonderful habits.&quot; An edge of Winthrop's own dark
+hair seems to show under the wig front. I do not know the precise date of
+this portrait. It was, of course, painted in England. He served in the
+Parliamentary army with General Monck; returned to New England in 1663, and
+was commander of the New England forces. He spent 1693 to l697 in England
+as commissioner. Sir Peter Lely and Sir Godfrey Kneller both were painting
+in England in those years, and both were constant in painting men with
+armor and perukes. This portrait seems like Kneller's work.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Governor_De_Bienville."></a>
+<img src="images\360.png" alt="Governor De Bienville.">
+<H4>Governor De Bienville.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Another portrait attired also in armor and peruke is of Sir Nathaniel
+Johnson, who was appointed governor of South Carolina by the Lords
+Proprietors in 1702. The portrait was painted in 1705. It is one of the few
+of that date which show a faint mustache; he likewise wears a seal ring
+with coat-of-arms on the little finger of his left hand, which was unusual
+at that day. De Bienville, the governor of Louisiana, is likewise in wig
+and armor. In 1682 Thomas Richbell died in Boston, leaving a very rich and
+costly wardrobe. He had eight wigs. Of these, three were small periwigs
+worth but a pound apiece. In New York, in Virginia, in all the colonies,
+these wigs were worn, and were just as large and costly, as elaborately
+curled, as heavily powdered, as at the English and French courts.</p>
+
+<p>Archbishop Tillotson is usually regarded as the first amongst the
+English clergy to adopt the wig. He said in one of his sermons:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;I can remember since the wearing of hair below the ears
+was looked upon as a sin of the first magnitude, and when ministers
+generally, whatever their text was, did either find or make occasion to
+reprove the great sin of long hair; and if they saw any one in the
+congregation guilty in that kind, they would point him out particularly,
+and let fly at him with great zeal.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Dr. Tillotson died on November 24, 1694.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Daniel_Waldo."></a>
+<img src="images\361.png" alt="Daniel Waldo.">
+<H4>Daniel Waldo.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Long before that American preachers had felt it necessary to &quot;let
+fly&quot; also; to denounce wig-wearing from their pulpits. The question
+could not be settled, since the ministers themselves could not agree. John
+Wilson, the zealous Boston minister, wore one, and John Cotton (see <a
+href="#Reverend_John_Cotton.">here</a>); while Rev. Mr. Noyes preached long
+and often against the fashion. John Eliot, the noble preacher and
+missionary to the Indians, found time even in the midst of his arduous and
+incessant duties to deliver many a blast against &quot;prolix
+locks,&quot;--&quot;with boiling zeal,&quot; as Cotton Mather said,--and he
+labelled them a &quot;luxurious feminine protexity&quot;; but lamented late
+in life that &quot;the lust for wigs is become insuperable.&quot; He
+thought the horrors in King Philip's War were a direct punishment from God
+for wig-wearing. Increase Mather preached warmly against wigs, calling them
+&quot;Horrid Bushes of Vanity,&quot; and saying that &quot;such Apparel is
+contrary to the light of Nature, and to express Scripture,&quot; and that
+&quot;Monstrous Periwigs such as some of our church members indulge in make
+them resemble ye locusts that came out of ye Bottomless Pit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Rev. George Weeks preached a sermon on impropriety in clothes. He said
+in regard to wig-wearing:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;We have no warrant in the word of God, that I know of,
+for our wearing of Periwigs except it be in extraordinary cases. Elisha did
+not cover his head with a Perriwigg altho' it was bald. To see the greater
+part of Men in some congregations wearing Perriwiggs is a matter of deep
+lamentation. For either all these men had a necessity to cut off their Hair
+or else not. If they had a necessity to cut off their Hair then we have
+reason to take up a lamentation over the sin of our first Parents which
+hath occasioned so many Persons in our Congregation to be sickly, weakly,
+crazy Persons.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Long &quot;Ruffianly&quot; or &quot;Russianly&quot; (I know not which
+word is right) hair equally worried the parsons. President Chauncey of
+Harvard College preached upon it, for the college undergraduates were
+vexingly addicted to prolix locks. Rev. Mr. Wigglesworth's sermon on the
+subject has often been reprinted, and is full of logical arguments. This
+offence was named on the list of existing evils which was made by the
+general court: that &quot;the men wore long hair like women's hair.&quot;
+Still, the Puritan magistrates, omnipotent as they were in small things,
+did riot dare to force the becurled citizens of the little towns to cut
+their long love-locks, though they bribed them to do so. A Salem man was,
+in 1687, fined l0s. for a misdemeanor, but &quot;in case he shall cutt off
+his long har of his head into a sevill (civil?) frame, in the mean time
+shall have abated 5s. of his fine.&quot; John Eliot hated long, natural
+hair as well as false hair. Rev. Cotton Mather said of him, in a very
+unpleasant figure of speech, &quot;The hair of them that professed religion
+grew too long for him to swallow.&quot; His own hair curled on his
+shoulders, and would seem long to us to-day.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Reverend_John_Marsh."></a>
+<img src="images\363.png" alt="Reverend John Marsh.">
+<H4>Reverend John Marsh.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>A climax of wig-hating was reached by one who has been styled &quot;The
+Last of the Puritans&quot;--Judge Samuel Sewall of Boston. Constant
+references in his diary show how this hatred influenced his daily life. He
+despised wigs so long and so deeply, he thought and talked and prayed upon
+them, until they became to him of undue importance; they became godless
+emblems of iniquity; an unutterable snare and peril.</p>
+
+<p>We find Sewall copying with evident approval a &quot;scandalous
+bill&quot; which had been &quot;posted&quot; on the church in Plymouth in
+1701. In this a few lines ran:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&nbsp;&quot;Our churches are too genteel.<br>
+Parsons grow trim and trigg<br>
+With wealth, wine, and wigg,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And their crowns are covered with meal.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="John_Adams_in_Youth."></a>
+<img src="images\364.png" alt="John Adams in Youth.">
+<H4>John Adams in Youth.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Bitter must have been his efforts to reconcile to his conscience the
+sight of wigs upon the heads of his parson friends, worn boldly in the
+pulpit. He would refrain from attending a church where the parson wore a
+wig; and his italicized praise of a dead friend was that he &quot;was a
+true New-English man and <i>abominated periwigs</i>.&quot; A Boston
+wig-maker died a drunkard, and Sewall took much melancholy satisfaction in
+dilating upon it.</p>
+
+<p>Cotton Mather and Sewall had many pious differences and personal
+jealousies. The parson was a handsome man (see his picture <a
+href="#Reverend_Cotton_Mather.">here</a>), and he was a harmlessly and
+naively vain man. He quickly adopted a &quot;great bush of
+vanity&quot;--and a very personable appearance he makes in it. Soon we find
+him inveighing at length in the pulpit against &quot;those who strain at a
+gnat and swallow a camel, those who were zealous against an innocent
+fashion taken up and used by the best of men.&quot; &quot;'Tis supposed he
+means wearing a Perriwigg,&quot; writes Sewall after this sermon; &quot;I
+expected not to hear a vindication of Perriwiggs in Boston pulpit by Mr.
+Mather.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Poor Sewall! his regard of wigs had a severe test when he wooed Madam
+Winthrop late in life. She was a rich widow. He had courted her vainly for
+a second wife. And now he &quot;yearned for her deeply&quot; for a third
+wife, so he wrote. And ere she would consent or even discuss marriage she
+stipulated two things: one, that he keep a coach; the other, that he wear a
+periwig. When all the men of dignity and office in the colony were
+bourgeoning out in great flowing perukes, she was naturally a bit averse to
+an elderly lover in a skullcap or, as he often wore, a hood. His love did
+not make him waver; he stoutly persisted in his refusal to assume a
+periwig.</p>
+
+<p>His portrait in a velvet skullcap shows a fringe of white curling hair
+with a few forehead locks. I fancy he was bald. Here is his entry with
+regard to young Parson Willard's wig, in the year 1701:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Having last night heard that Josiah Willard had cut off
+his hair (a very full head of hair) and put on a wig, I went to him this
+morning. When I told his mother what I came about, she called him.
+Whereupon I inquired of him what extreme need had forced him to put off
+his own hair and put on a wig? He answered, none at all; he said that his
+hair was straight, and that it parted behind.<br> <br> &quot;He seemed to
+argue that men might as well shave their hair off their head, as off their
+face. I answered that boys grew to be men before they had hair on their
+faces, and that half of mankind never have any beards. I told him that God
+seems to have created our hair as a test, to see whether we can bring our
+minds to be content at what he gives us, or whether wewould be our own
+carvers and come back to him for nothing more. We might dislike our skin
+or nails, as he disliked his hair; but in our case no thanks are due to us
+that we cut them not off; for pain and danger restrain us. Your duty, said
+I, is to teach men self-denial. I told him, further, that it would be
+displeasing and burdensome to good men for him to wear a wig, and they
+that care not what men think of them, care not what God thinks of
+them.<br> <br> &quot;I told him that he must remember that wigs were
+condemned by a meeting of ministers at Northampton. I told him of the
+solemnity of the covenant which he and I had lately entered into, which
+put upon me the duty of discoursing to him.<br> <br> &quot;He seemed to
+say that he would leave off his wig when his hair was grown again. I spoke
+to his father of it a day or two afterwards and he thanked me for
+reasoning with his son.<br> <br> &quot;He told me his son had promised to
+leave off his wig when his hair was grown to cover his ears. If the father
+had known of it, he would have forbidden him to cut off his hair. His
+mother heard him talk of it, but was afraid to forbid him for fear he
+should do it in spite of her, and so be more faulty than if she had let
+him go his own way.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Jonathan_Edwards,_2nd."></a>
+<img src="images\366.png" alt="Jonathan Edwards, 2nd.">
+<H4>Jonathan Edwards, 2nd.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Soon nearly every parson in England and every colony wore wigs. John
+Wesley alone wore what seems to be his own white hair curled under softly
+at the ends. Whitfield is in a portentous wig like the one on Dr. Marsh <a
+href="#Reverend_John_Marsh.">(here</a>).</p>
+
+<p>In the time of Queen Anne, wigs had multiplied vastly in variety as they
+had increased in size. I have been asked the difference between a peruke
+and a wig. Of course both, and the periwig, are simply wigs; but the term
+&quot;peruke&quot; is in general applied to a formal, richly curled wig;
+and the word &quot;periwig&quot; also conveys the distinction of a formal
+wig. Of less dignity were riding-wigs, nightcap wigs, and bag-wigs.
+Bag-wigs are said to have had their origin among French servants, who tied
+up their hair in a black leather bag as a speedy way of dressing it, and to
+keep it out of the way when at other and disordering duties.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Patrick_Henry."></a>
+<img src="images\367.png" alt="Patrick Henry.">
+<H4>Patrick Henry.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In May, 1706, the English, led by Marlborough, gained a great victory on
+the battle-field of Ramillies, and that gave the title to a new wig
+described as &quot;having a long, gradually diminishing, plaited tail,
+called the 'Ramillie-tail,' which was tied with a great bow at the top and
+a smaller one at the bottom.&quot; The hair also bushed out at both sides
+of the face. The Ramillies wig shown in Hogarth's <i>Modern Midnight
+Conversation</i> hanging against the wall, is reproduced <a
+href="#Campaign,_Ramillies,_Bob,_and_Pigtail_Wigs.">here</a>. This wig was
+not at first deemed full-dress. Queen Anne was deeply offended because Lord
+Bolingbroke, summoned hurriedly to her, appeared in a Ramillies wig instead
+of a full-bottomed peruke. The queen remarked that she supposed next time
+Lord Bolingbroke would come in his nightcap. It was the same offending
+nobleman who brought in the fashion of the mean little tie-wigs.</p>
+
+<p>It is stated in Read's <i>Weekly Journal</i> of May 1, 1736, in an
+account of the marriage of the Prince of Wales, that the officers of the
+Horse and Foot Guards wore Ramillies periwigs when on parade, by his
+Majesty's order. We meet in the reign of George II other forms of wigs and
+other titles; the most popular was the pigtail wig. The pigtail of this was
+worn hanging down the back or tied up in a knot behind. This pigtail wig,
+worn for so many years, is shown <a
+href="#Campaign,_Ramillies,_Bob,_and_Pigtail_Wigs.">here</a>. It was
+popular in the army for sixty years, but in 1804 orders were given for the
+pigtail to be reduced to seven inches in length, and finally, in 1808, to
+be cut off wholly, to the deep mourning of disciplinarians who deemed a
+soldier without a pigtail as hopeless as a Manx cat.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="&quot;King&quot;_Carter._Died_1732."></a>
+<img src="images\369.png" alt="&quot;King&quot; Carter. Died 1732.">
+<H4>&quot;King&quot; Carter. Died 1732.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Bob-wigs, minor and major, came in during the reign of George II. The
+bob-wig was held to be a direct imitation of the natural hair, though, of
+course, it deceived no one; it was used chiefly by poorer folk. The
+'prentice minor bob was close and short, the citizen's bob major, or Sunday
+buckle, had several rows of curls. All these came to America by the
+hundreds--yes, by the thousands. Every profession and almost every calling
+had its peculiar wig. The caricatures of the period represent full-fledged
+lawyers with a towering frontlet and a long bag at the back tied in the
+middle; while students of the university have a wig flat on the top, to
+accommodate their stiff, square-cornered hats, and a great bag like a
+lawyer's wig at the back.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Judge_Benjamin_Lynde."></a>
+<img src="images\370.png" alt="Judge Benjamin Lynde.">
+<H4>Judge Benjamin Lynde.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>&quot;When the law lays down its full-bottom'd periwig you will find
+less wisdom in bald pates than you are aware of,&quot; says the <i>Choleric
+Man</i>. This lawyer's wig is the only one which has not been changed or
+abandoned. You may see it here, on the head of Judge Benjamin Lynde of
+Salem. He died in 1745. Carlyle sneers:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Has not your Red hanging-individual a horsehair wig,
+squirrel-skins, and a plush-gown--whereby all Mortals know that he is a
+JUDGE?&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>In the reigns of Anne and William and Mary perukes grew so vast and
+cumbersome that a wig was invented for travelling and for undress wear, and
+was called the &quot;Campaign wig.&quot; It would not seem very simple
+since it was made full and curled to the front, and had, so writes a
+contemporary, Randle Holme, in his <i>Academy of Armory</i>, 1684,
+&quot;knots and bobs a-dildo on each side and a curled forehead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A campaign wig from Holme's drawing is shown <a
+href="#Campaign,_Ramillies,_Bob,_and_Pigtail_Wigs.">here</a>.</p>
+
+<p>There are constant references in old letters and in early literature in
+America which alter much the dates assigned by English authorities on
+costume: thus, knowing not of Randle Holme's drawing, Sydney writes that
+the name &quot;campaign&quot; was applied to a wig, the name and fashion of
+which came to England from France in 1702. In the Letter-book of William
+Byrd of Westover, Virginia, in a letter written in June, 1690, to Perry and
+Lane, his English factors in London, he says, &quot;I have by Tonner sent
+my long Periwig which I desire you to get made into a Campagne and send
+mee.&quot; This was twelve years earlier than Sydney's date. Fitz-John
+Winthrop wrote to England in 1695 for &quot;two wiggs one a campane the
+other short.&quot; The portrait of Fitz-John Winthrop shows a prodigious
+imposing wig, but it has no &quot;knots or bobs a-dildo on each side,&quot;
+though the forehead is curled; it is a fine example of a peruke.</p>
+
+<p>I cannot attempt even to name all the wigs, much less can I describe
+them; Hawthorne gave &quot;the tie,&quot; the &quot;Brigadier,&quot; the
+&quot;Major,&quot; the &quot;Ramillies,&quot; the grave
+&quot;Full-bottom,&quot; the giddy &quot;Feather-top.&quot; To these and
+others already named in this chapter I can add the &quot;Neck-lock,&quot;
+the &quot;Allonge,&quot; the &quot;Lavant,&quot; the &quot;Vallancy,&quot;
+the &quot;Grecian fly wig,&quot; the &quot;Beau-peruke,&quot; the
+&quot;Long-tail,&quot; the &quot;Fox-tail,&quot; the &quot;Cut-wig,&quot;
+the &quot;Scratch,&quot; the &quot;Twist-wig.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Others named in 1753 in the <i>London Magazine</i> were the &quot;Royal
+bird,&quot; the &quot;Rhinoceros,&quot; the &quot;Corded Wolf's-paw,&quot;
+&quot;Count Saxe's mode,&quot; the &quot;She-dragon,&quot; the
+&quot;Jansenist,&quot; the &quot;Wild-boar's-back,&quot; the
+&quot;Snail-back,&quot; the &quot;Spinach-seed.&quot; These titles were
+literal translations of French wig-names.</p>
+
+<p>Another wig-name was the &quot;Gregorian.&quot; We read in <i>The Honest
+Ghost</i>, 1658, &quot;Pulling a little down his Gregorian, which was
+displac't a little by his hastie taking off his beaver.&quot; This wig was
+named from the inventor, one Gregory, &quot;the famous peruke-maker who is
+buryed at St. Clements Danes Church.&quot; In Cotgrave's <i>Dictionary</i>
+perukes are called Gregorians.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="John_Rutledge."></a>
+<img src="images\372.png" alt="John Rutledge.">
+<H4>John Rutledge.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In the prologue to <i>Haut Ton</i>, written by George Colman, these wigs
+are named:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The Tyburn scratch, thick Club and Temple tyes,<br>
+The Parson's Feather-top, frizzed, broad and high.<br>
+The coachman's Cauliflower, built tier on tier.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>There was also the &quot;Minister's bob,&quot; &quot;Curley roys,&quot;
+&quot;Airy levants,&quot; and &quot;I--perukes.&quot; The
+&quot;Dalmahoy&quot; was a bushy bob-wig.</p>
+
+<p>When Colonel John Carter died, he left to his brother Robert his cane,
+sword, and periwig. I believe this to be the very Valiancy periwig which,
+in all its snowy whiteness and air of extreme fashion, graces the head of
+the handsome young fellow as he is shown <a
+href="#&quot;King&quot;_Carter_in_Youth,_by_Sir_Godfrey_Kneller.">here</a>.
+Even the portrait shares the fascination which the man is said to have had
+for every woman. I have a copy of it now standing on my desk, where I can
+glance at him as I write; and pleasant company have I found the gay young
+Virginian--the best of company. It is good to have a companion so handsome
+of feature, so personable of figure, so laughing, care free, and
+debonair--isn't it, King Robert?</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Campaign,_Ramillies,_Bob,_and_Pigtail_Wigs."></a>
+<img src="images\373.png" alt="Campaign, Ramillies, Bob, and Pigtail Wigs.">
+<H4>Campaign, Ramillies, Bob, and Pigtail Wigs.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>These snowy wigs at a later date were called Adonis wigs.</p>
+
+<p>The cost of a handsome wig would sometimes amount to thirty, forty, and
+fifty guineas, though Swift grumbled at paying three guineas, and the
+exceedingly correct Mr. Pepys bought wigs at two and three pounds. It is
+not strange that they were often stolen. Gay, in his <i>Trivia</i>, thus
+tells the manner of their disappearance:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Nor is the flaxen wig with safety worn;<br>
+&nbsp;High on the shoulder, in a basket borne,<br>
+&nbsp;Lurks the sly boy, whose hand to rapine bred,<br>
+&nbsp;Plucks off the curling honors of the head.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>In America wigs were deemed rich spoils for the sneak-thief.</p>
+
+<p>There was a vast trade in second-hand wigs. 'Tis said there was in
+Rosemary Lane in London a constantly replenished &quot;Wig lottery.&quot;
+It was, rather, a wig grab-bag. The wreck of gentility paid his last
+sixpence for appearances, dipped a long arm into a hole in a cask, and
+fished out his wig. It might be half-decent, or it might be fit only to
+polish shoes--worse yet, it might have been used already for that purpose.
+The lowest depths of everything were found in London. I doubt if we had any
+Rosemary Lane wig lotteries in New York, or Philadelphia, or Boston.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Rev._William_Welsteed."></a>
+<img src="images\374.png" alt="Rev. William Welsteed.">
+<H4>Rev. William Welsteed.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>An answer to a query in a modern newspaper gives the word
+&quot;caxon&quot; as descriptive of a dress-wig. It was in truth a term for
+a wig, but it was a cant term, a slang phrase for the worst possible wig;
+thus Charles Lamb Wrote:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;He had two wigs both pedantic but of different omen. The
+one serene, smiling, fresh-powdered, betokening a mild day. The other an
+old discoloured, unkempt, angry caxon denoting frequent and bloody
+execution.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>All these wigs, even the bob-wig, were openly artificial. The manner of
+their make, their bindings, their fastening, as well as their material,
+completely destroyed any illusion which could possibly have been
+entertained as to their being a luxuriant crop of natural hair.</p>
+
+<p>No one was ashamed of wearing a wig. On the contrary, a person with any
+sense of dignity was ashamed of being so unfashionable as to wear his own
+hair. It was a glorious time for those to whom Nature had been niggardly. A
+wig was as frankly extraneous as a hat. No attempt was made to imitate the
+roots of the hairs, or the parting. The hair was attached openly, and bound
+with a high-colored, narrow ribbon. Here is an advertisement from the
+<i>Boston News Letter</i> of August 14, 1729:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Taken from the shop of Powers Mariott, Barber, a light
+Flaxen Natural Wigg parted from the forehead to the Crown. The Narrow
+Ribband is of a Red Pink Color, the Caul is in rows of Red, Green and
+White Ribband.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Another &quot;peruke-maker&quot; lost a Flaxen &quot;Natural&quot; wig
+bound with peach-colored ribbon; while in 1755 Barber Coes, of Marblehead,
+lost &quot;feather-tops&quot; bound with various ribbons. Some had three
+colors on one wig--pink, green and purple. A goat's-hair wig bound with red
+and purple, with green ribbons striping the caul, must have been a pretty
+and dignified thing on an old gentleman's head. One of the most curious
+materials for a wig was fine wire, of which Wortley Montague's wig was
+made.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Thomas_Hopkinson."></a>
+<img src="images\376.png" alt="Thomas Hopkinson.">
+<H4>Thomas Hopkinson.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>We read in many histories of costume, among them Miss Hill's recent
+history of English dress, that Quakers did not wear wigs. This is widely
+incorrect. Many Quakers wore most fashionably made wigs. William Penn wrote
+from England to his steward, telling him to allow Deputy Governor Lloyd to
+wear his (Penn's) wigs. I suppose he wished his deputy to cut a good
+figure.</p>
+
+<p>From the <i>New York Gazette</i> of May 9, 1737, we learn of a thief's
+stealing &quot;one gray Hair Wig, not the worse for wearing, one Pale Hair
+Wig, not worn five times, marked V. S. E., one brown Natural wig, One old
+wig of goat's hair put in buckle.&quot; Buckle meant to curl, and
+derivatively a wig was in buckle when it was rolled for curling. Roulettes
+or bilbouquettes for buckling a wig were little rollers of pipe clay. The
+hair was twisted up in them, and papers bound over them to fix them in
+place. The roulettes could be put in buckle hot, or they could be rolled
+cold and the whole wig heated. The latter was not favored; it damaged the
+wig. Moreover, a careless barber had often roasted a forgotten wig which he
+had put in buckle and in an oven.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>New York Gazette</i> of May 12, 1750, had this alluring
+advertisement:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;This is to acquaint the Public, that there is lately
+arrived from London the Wonder of the World, <i>an Honest</i> Barber and
+Peruke Maker, who might have worked for the King, if his Majesty would
+have employed him: It was not for the want of Money he came here, for he
+had enough of that at Home, nor for the want of Business, that he
+advertises himself, BUT to acquaint the Gentlemen and Ladies, that <i>Such
+a Person is now in Town</i>, living near <i>Rosemary Lane</i> where
+Gentlemen and Ladies may be supplied with Goods as follows, viz.: Tyes,
+Full-Bottoms, Majors, Spencers, Fox-Tails, Ramalies, Tacks, cut and bob
+Perukes: Also Ladies Tatematongues and Towers after the Manner that is now
+wore at Court. <i>By their Humble and Obedient Servant</i>,<br> <br>
+&quot;JOHN STILL.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Reverend_Dr._Barnard"></a>
+<img src="images\378.png" alt="Reverend Dr. Barnard.">
+<H4>Reverend Dr. Barnard.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>&quot;Perukes,&quot; says Malcolm, in his <i>Manners and Customs</i>,
+&quot;were an highly important article in 1734.&quot; Those of right gray
+human hair were four guineas each; light grizzle ties, three guineas; and
+other colors in proportion, to twenty-five shillings. Right gray human hair
+cue perukes, from two guineas to fifteen shillings each, was the price of
+dark ones; and right gray bob perukes, two guineas and a half to fifteen
+shillings, the price of dark bobs. Those mixed with horsehair were much
+lower.</p>
+
+<p>Prices were a bit higher in America. It was held that better wigs were
+made in England than in America or France; so the letter-books and
+agent's-lists of American merchants are filled with orders for English
+wigs.</p>
+
+<p>Imperative orders for the earliest and extremest new fashions stood from
+year to year on the lists of fashionable London wig-makers; and these
+constant orders came from Virginia gentlemen and Massachusetts
+magistrates,--not a few, too, from the parsons,--scantly paid as they were.
+The smaller bob-wigs and tie-wigs were precisely the same in both
+countries, and I am sure were no later in assumption in America than was
+necessitated by the weeks occupied in coming across seas.</p>
+
+<p>Throughout the seventeenth century all classes of men in American towns
+wore wigs. Negro slaves flaunted white horsehair wigs, goat's-hair
+bob-wigs, natural wigs, all the plainer wigs, and all the more costly sorts
+when these were half worn and secondhand. Soldiers wore wigs; and in the
+<i>Massachusetts Gazette</i> of the year 1774 a runaway negro is described
+as wearing a curl of hair tied around his head to imitate a scratch wig;
+with his woolly crown this dangling curl must have been the height of
+absurdity.</p>
+
+<p>It is not surprising to find in the formal life of the English court the
+poor little tormented, sickly, sad child of Queen Anne wearing, before he
+was seven years old, a large full-bottomed wig; but it is curious to see
+the portraits of American children rigged up in wigs (I have half a dozen
+such), and to find likewise an American gentleman (and not one of wealth
+either) paying &pound;9 apiece for wigs for three little sons of seven,
+nine, and eleven years of age. This lavish parent was Enoch Freeman, who
+lived in Portland, Maine, in 1754.</p>
+
+<p>Wigs were objects of much and constant solicitude and care; their
+dressing was costly, and they wore out readily. Barbers cared for them by
+the month or year, visiting from house to house. Ten pounds a year was not
+a large sum to be paid for the care of a single wig. Men of dignity and
+careful dress had barbers' bills of large amount, such men as Governor John
+Hancock, Governor Hutchinson, and Governor Belcher. On Saturday afternoons
+the barbers' boys were seen flying through the narrow streets, wig-box in
+hand, hurrying to deliver all the dressed wigs ere sunset came.</p>
+
+<p>No doubt the constant wearing of such hot, heavy head-covering made the
+hair thin and the head bald; thus wigs became a necessity. Men had their
+heads very closely covered of old, and caught cold at a breath. Pepys took
+cold throwing off his hat while at dinner. If the wig were removed even
+within doors a close cap or hood at once took its place, or, as I tell
+elsewhere, a turban of some rich stuff. In America, in the Southern states,
+where people were poor and plantations scattered, all men did not wear
+wigs. A writer in the <i>London Magazine</i> in 1745 tells of this country
+carelessness of dress. He says that except some of the &quot;very Elevated
+Sort&quot; few wore perukes; so that at first sight &quot;all looked as if
+about to go to bed,&quot; for all wore caps. Common people wore woollen
+caps; richer ones donned caps of white cotton or Holland linen. These were
+worn even when riding fifty miles from home. He adds, &quot;It may be
+cooler for aught I know; but methinks 'tis very ridiculous.&quot; So wonted
+were his eyes to perukes, that his only thought of caps was that they were
+&quot;ridiculous.&quot; Nevertheless, when a shipload of servants,
+bond-servants who might be stolen when in drink, or lured under false
+pretences, might be convicts, or honest workmen,--when these transports
+were set up in respectability,--scores of new wigs of varying degrees of
+dignity came across seas with them. Many an old caxon or
+&quot;gossoon&quot;--a wig worn yellow with age--ended its days on the pate
+of a redemptioner, who thereby acquired dignity and was more likely to be
+bought as a schoolmaster. Truly our ancestors were not squeamish, and it is
+well they were not, else they would have squeamed from morning till night
+at the sights, and sounds, and things, and dirt around them. But these be
+parlous words; they had the senses and feelings of their day--suited to the
+surroundings of their day. In one thing they can be envied. Knowing not of
+germs and microbes, dreaming not of antiseptics and fumigation, they could
+be happy in blissful unconsciousness of menacing environment--a blessing
+wholly denied to us.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Andrew_Ellicott."></a>
+<img src="images\381.png" alt="Andrew Ellicott.">
+<H4>Andrew Ellicott.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>When James Murray came from Scotland in 1735 he went up the Cape Fear
+River in North Carolina to the struggling settlements of Brunswick. The
+stock of wigs which he brought as one of the commodities of his trade had
+absolutely no market. In 1751 he wrote thus to his London wig-maker:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;We deal so much in caps in this country that we are
+almost as careless of the outside as of the inside of our heads. I have
+had but one wig since the last I had of you, and yours has outworn it.
+Now I am near out, and you may make me a new grisel
+Bob.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, in 1769, when he was roughly handled in Boston on account
+of his Tory utterances, his head, though he was but fifty-six, was bald
+from wig-wearing. His spirited recital runs thus:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The crowd intending sport, remained. As I was pressing
+out, my Wig was pulled off and a pate shaved by Time and the barber was
+left exposed. This was thought a signal and prelude to further insult;
+which would probably have taken place but for hindering the cause. Going
+along in this plight, surrounded by the crowd, in the dark, a friend hold
+of either arm supporting me, while somebody behind kept nibbling at my
+sides and endeavouring of treading the reforming justice out of me by the
+multitude. My wig dishevelled, was borne on a staff behind. My friends and
+supporters offered to house me, but I insisted on going home in the
+present trim, and was landed in safety.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Patriotic Boston barbers found much satisfaction in ill treating the
+wigs of their Tory customers and patrons. William Pyncheon, a Salem Tory,
+wrote a few years later:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The tailors and barbers, in their squinting and fleering
+at our clothes, and especially our wiggs, begin to border on malevolence.
+Had not the caul of my wigg been of uncommon stuff and workmanship, I think
+my barber would have had it in pieces: his dressing it greatly resembles
+the farmer dressing his flax, the latter of the two being the gentlest in
+his motions.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Worcester Tories, among them Timothy Paine, had their wigs pulled off in
+public. Mr. Paine at once gave his dishonored wig to one of his negro
+slaves, and never after resumed wig-wearing.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="#XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE BEARD</h3>
+
+
+<blockquote><i>&quot;Though yours be sorely lugged and torn<br>
+It does your Visage more adorn<br>
+Than if 'twere prun'd, and starch'd, and launder'd<br>
+And cut square by the Russian standard.&quot;</i><br>
+<br>
+--&quot;Hudibras,&quot; SAMUEL BUTLER.<br>
+<br><br>
+<i>&quot;Now of beards there be such company<br>
+And fashions such a throng<br>
+That it is very hard to handle a beard<br>
+Tho' it be never so long.<br>
+<br>
+&quot;'Tis a pretty sight and a grave delight<br>
+That adorns both young and old<br>
+A well thatch't face is a comely grace<br>
+And a shelter from the cold&quot;</i><br>
+<br>
+--&quot;Le Prince d'Amour,&quot; 1660.<br></blockquote>
+<br><br>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE BEARD</h3>
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\initialm.png" align=left
+alt="M">en's hair on their heads hath ever been at odds with that on their
+face. If the head were well covered and the hair long, then the face was
+smooth shaven. William the Conqueror had short hair and a beard, then came
+a long-haired king, then a cropped one; Edward IV's subjects had long hair
+and closely cut beards. Henry VII fiercely forbade beards. The great
+sovereign Henry VIII ordered short hair like the French, and wore a beard.
+Through Elizabeth's day and that of James the beard continued. Not until
+great perukes overshadowed the whole face did the beard disappear. It
+vanished for a century as if men were beardless; but after men began to
+wear short hair in the early years of the nineteenth century, bearded men
+appeared. A few German mystics who had come to America full-bearded were
+stared at like the elephant, and a sight of them was recorded in a diary as
+a great event.</p>
+
+<p>There is no doubt that, to the general reader, the ordinary thought of
+the Puritan is with a beard, a face and figure much like the Hogarth
+illustrations of Hudibras--one of the &quot;Presbyterian true Blue,&quot;
+&quot;the stubborn crew of Errant Saints,&quot;--without the grotesquery of
+face and feature, perhaps, but certainly with all the plainness and
+gracelessness of dress and the commonplace beard. The wording of Hudibras
+also figures the popular conception:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;His tawny Beard was th' equal Grace<br>
+Both of his Wisdom and his Face:<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br>
+&quot;His Doublet was of sturdy Buff<br>
+And tho' not Sword, was Cudgel-Proof.<br>
+His Breeches were of rugged Woolen<br>
+And had been at the Siege of Bullen.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Herbert_Westphaling,_Bishop_of_Hereford."></a>
+<img src="images\385.png" alt="Herbert Westphaling, Bishop of Hereford.">
+<H4>Herbert Westphaling, Bishop of Hereford.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In truth this is well enough as far as it runs and for one suit of
+clothing; but this was by no means a universal dress, nor was it a
+universal beard. Indeed beards were fearfully and wonderfully varied.</p>
+
+<p>That humorous old rhymester, Taylor, the &quot;Water Poet,&quot; may be
+quoted at length on the vanity thus:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;And Some, to set their Love's-Desire on Edge<br>
+Are cut and prun'd, like to a Quickset Hedge.<br>
+Some like a Spade, some like a Forke, some square,<br>
+Some round, some mow'd like stubble, some starke bare;<br>
+Some sharpe, Stilletto-fashion, Dagger-like,<br>
+That may with Whispering a Man's Eyes unpike;<br>
+Some with the Hammer-cut, or Roman T.<br>
+Their Beards extravagant, reform'd must be.<br>
+Some with the Quadrate, some Triangle fashion;<br>
+Some circular, some ovall in translation;<br>
+Some Perpendicular in Longitude,<br>
+Some like a Thicket for their Crassitude,<br>
+That Heights, Depths, Breadths, Triform, Square, Ovall, Round<br>
+And Rules Geometrical in Beards are found.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Taylor's own beard was screw-shaped. I fancy he invented it.</p>
+
+<p>The Anglo-Saxon beard was parted, and this double form remained for a
+long time. Sometimes there were two twists or two long forks.</p>
+
+<p>A curious pointed beard, a beard in two curls, is shown <a
+href="#James_Douglas_(Earl_of_Morton).">here</a>, on James Douglas, Earl of
+Morton. A still more strangely kept one, pointed in the middle of the chin,
+and kept in two rolls which roll toward the front, is upon the aged herald,
+<a href="#The_Herald_Vandum.">here</a>.</p>
+
+<p>Richard II had a mean beard,--two little tufts on the chin known as
+&quot;the mouse-eaten beard, here a tuft, there a tuft.&quot; The round
+beard &quot;like a half a Holland cheese&quot; is always seen in the
+depictions of Falstaff; &quot;a great round beard&quot; we know he had.
+This was easily trimmed, but others took so much time and attention that
+pasteboard boxes were made to tie over them at night, that they might be
+unrumpled in the morning.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="The_Herald_Vandum."></a>
+<img src="images\387.png" alt="The Herald Vandum.">
+<H4>The Herald Vandum.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In the reign of Elizabeth and of James I a beard and whiskers or
+mustache were universally worn. In the time of Charles I the general effect
+of beard and mustache was triangular, with the mouth in the centre, as in
+the portrait of Waller <a href="#Sir_William_Waller.">here</a>.</p>
+
+<p>A beard of some form was certainly universal in 1620. Often it was the
+orderly natural growth shown on Winthrop's face; a smaller tuft on the chin
+with a mustache also was much worn. Many ministers in America had this
+chin-tuft. Among them were John Eliot and John Davenport. The Stuarts wore
+a pointed beard, carefully trimmed, and a mustache; but the natural beard
+seems to have disappeared with the ruff. Charles II clung for a time to a
+mustache; his portrait by Mary Beale has one; but with the great
+development of the periwig came a smooth face. This continued until the
+nineteenth century brought a fashion of bearded men again; a fashion which
+was so abhorred, so reviled, so openly warred with that I know of the
+bequest of a large estate with the absolute and irrevocable condition that
+the inheritor should never wear a beard of any form.</p>
+
+<p>The hammer cut was of the reign of Charles I. It was T-shaped. In the
+play, <i>The Queen of Corinth</i>, 1647, are the lines:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;He strokes his beard<br>
+Which now he puts in the posture of a T,<br>
+The Roman T. Your T-beard is in fashion.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>The spade beard is shown <a href="#Scotch_Beard.">here</a>. It was
+called the &quot;broad pendant,&quot; and was held to make a man look like
+a warrior. The sugar-loaf beard was the natural form much worn by Puritans;
+by natural I mean not twisted into any &quot;strange antic forms.&quot; The
+swallow-tail cut (about 1600) is more unusual, but was occasionally
+seen.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The stiletto-beard<br>
+It makes me afeard<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; It is so sharp beneath.<br>
+For he that doth place<br>
+A dagger in his face<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; What wears he in his sheath?&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>An unusually fine stiletto beard is on the chin of John Endicott (<a
+href="#Governor_John_Endicott">here</a>). It was distinctly a soldier's
+beard. Endicott was major-general of the colonial forces and a severe
+disciplinarian. Shakespere, in <i>Henry V</i>, speaks of &quot;a beard of
+the General's cut.&quot; It was worn by the Earl of Southampton (see <a
+href="#Earl_of_Southampton.">here</a>), and perhaps Endicott favored it on
+that account. The pique-devant beard or &quot;pick-a-devant beard, O Fine
+Fashion,&quot; was much worn. A good moderate example may be seen upon
+Cousin Kilvert, with doublet and band, in the print <a
+href="#Alderman_Abell_and_Richard_Kilvert">here</a>. An extreme type was
+the beard of Robert Greene, the Elizabethan dramatist, &quot;A jolly long
+red peake like the spire of a steeple, which he wore continually, whereat a
+man might hang a jewell; it was so sharp and pendent.&quot;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Scotch_Beard."></a>
+<img src="images\389.png" alt="Scotch Beard.">
+<H4>Scotch Beard.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The word &quot;peak&quot; was constantly used for a beard, and also the
+words &quot;spike&quot; and &quot;spear.&quot; A barber is represented in
+an old play as asking whether his customer will &quot;have his peak cut
+short and sharp; or amiable like an inamorato, or broad pendant like a
+spade; to be terrible like a warrior and a soldado; to have his appendices
+primed, or his mustachios fostered to turn about his eares like ye branches
+of a vine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A broad square-cut beard spreading at the ends like an open fan is the
+&quot;cathedral beard&quot; of Randle Holme, &quot;so called because grave
+men of the church did wear it.&quot; It is often seen in portraits. One of
+these is shown <a
+href="#Dr._William_Slater._Cathedral_Beard.">here</a>.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Dr._William_Slater._Cathedral_Beard."></a>
+<img src="images\390.png" alt="Dr. William Slater. Cathedral Beard.">
+<H4>Dr. William Slater. Cathedral Beard.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In the <i>Life of Mrs. Elizabeth Thomas</i>, 1731, she writes of her
+grandfather, a Turkey-merchant:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;He was very nice in the Mode of his Age--his Valet being
+some hours every morning in <i>Starching</i> his <i>Beard</i> and Curling
+his Whiskers during which Time a Gentleman whom he maintained as Companion
+always read to him upon some useful subject.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>So we may believe they really &quot;starched&quot; their beards,
+stiffened them with some dressing. Taylor, the &quot;Water Poet&quot;
+(1640), says of beards:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Some seem as they were starched stiff and fine<br>
+Like to the Bristles of some Angry Swine.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Dr._John_Dee._1600."></a>
+<img src="images\390a.png" alt="Dr. John Dee. 1600.">
+<H4>Dr. John Dee. 1600.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Dr. Dee's extraordinary beard I can but regard as an affectation of
+singularity, assumed doubtless to attract attention, and to be a sign of
+unusual parts. Aubrey, his friend, calls him &quot;a very handsome man; of
+very fair, clear, sanguine complexion, with a long beard as white as milke.
+He was tall and slender. He wore a gowne like an artist's gowne; with
+hanging sleeves and a slitt. A mighty good man he was.&quot; The word
+&quot;artist&quot; then meant artisan; and in this reference means a smock
+like a workman's.</p>
+
+<p>A name seen often in Winthrop's letters is that of Sir Kenelm Digby. He
+was an intimate correspondent of John Winthrop the second, and it would not
+be strange if he did many errands for Winthrop in England besides
+purchasing drugs. His portrait, and a lugubrious one it is, is one of the
+few of his day which shows an untrimmed beard. Aubrey says of him that
+after the death of his wife he wore &quot;a long mourning cloak, a high
+cornered hatt, his beard unshorn, look't like a hermit; as signs of sorrow
+for his beloved wife. He had something of the sweetness of his mother's
+face.&quot; This sweetness is, however, not to be perceived in his
+unattractive portrait.</p>
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="#XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES</h3>
+
+<blockquote><i>&quot;Q. Why is a Wife like a Patten? A. Both are Clogs.&quot;</i><br>
+<br>
+--Old Riddle.<br></blockquote>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>PATTENS, CLOGS, AND GOLOE-SHOES</h3>
+
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\initialw.png" align=left
+alt="W">hen this old pigskin trunk was new, the men who fought in the
+Revolution were young. Here is the date, &quot;1756,&quot; and the initials
+in brass-headed nails, &quot;J.E.H.&quot; It was a bride's trunk, the trunk
+of Elizabeth, who married John; and it was marked after the manner of
+marking the belongings of married folk in her day. It is curious in shape,
+spreading out wide at the top; for it was made to fit a special place in an
+old coach. I have told the story of that ancient coach in my <i>Old
+Narragansett</i>: the tale of the ignoble end of its days, the account of
+its fall from transportation of this happy bride and bridegroom, through
+years of stately use and formal dignity to more years of happy desuetude as
+a children's cubby-house; and finally its ignominy as a roosting-place, and
+hiding-place, and laying-place, and setting-place of misinformed and
+misguided hens. Under the coachman's seat, where the two-score dark-blue
+Staffordshire pie-plates were found on the day of the annihilation of the
+coach, was the true resting-place of this trunk. It was a hidden spot, for
+the trunk was small, and was intended to hold only treasures. It holds them
+still, though they are not the silver-plate, the round watches, the narrow
+laces, and the precious camel's-hair scarf. It now holds treasured relics
+of the olden time; trifles, but not unconsidered ones; much esteemed
+trifles are they, albeit not in form or shape or manner of being fit to
+rest in parlor cabinets or on tables, but valued, nevertheless, valued for
+that most intangible of qualities--association.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Iron_and_Leather_Pattens._1760."></a>
+<img src="images\394.png" alt="Iron and Leather Pattens. 1760.">
+<H4>Iron and Leather Pattens. 1760.</H4>
+</center>
+
+<center>
+<a name="Oak,_Iron,_and_Leather_Clogs._1790."></a>
+<img src="images\395.png" alt="Oak, Iron, and Leather Clogs. 1790.">
+<H4>Oak, Iron, and Leather Clogs. 1790.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Here is one little &quot;antick.&quot; It is an ample bag with the neat
+double drawing-strings of our youth; a bag, nay, a pocket. It once hung by
+the side of some one of my forbears, perhaps Elizabeth of the brass-nailed
+initials. It was a much-esteemed pocket, though it is only of figured
+cotton or chiney; but those stuffs were much sought after when this old
+trunk was new. The pocket has served during recent years as a cover for two
+articles of footwear which many &quot;of the younger sort&quot; to-day have
+never seen--they are pattens. &quot;Clumsy, ugly pattens&quot; we find them
+frequently stigmatized in the severe words of the early years of the
+nineteenth century, but there is nothing ugly or clumsy about this pair.
+The sole is of some black, polished wood--it is heavy enough for ebony; the
+straps are of strong leather neatly stitched; the buckles are polished
+brass, and brass nails fasten the leather to the wooden soles. These soles
+are cut up high in a ridge to fit under the instep of a high-heeled shoe;
+for it was a very little lady who wore these pattens,--Elizabeth,--and her
+little feet always stood in the highest heels. She was active, kindly, and
+bountiful. She lived to great age, and she could and did walk many miles a
+day until the last year of her life. She is recalled as wearing a great
+scarlet cloak with a black silk quilted hood on cold winter days, when she
+visited her neighbors with kindly words, and housewifely, homely gifts,
+conveyed in an ample basket. The cloak was made precisely like the scarlet
+cloak shown <a href="#Scarlet_Broadcloth_Hooded_Cloak.">here</a>, and had a
+like hood. She was brown-eyed, and her dark hair was never gray even in
+extreme old age; nor was the hair of her granddaughter, another Elizabeth,
+my grandmother. Trim and erect of figure, and precise and neat of dress,
+wearing, on account of this neatness, shorter petticoats, when walking,
+than was the mode of her day, and also through this neatness clinging to
+the very last to these cleanly, useful, quaint pattens. Her black hood,
+frilled white cap, short, quilted petticoat, high-heeled shoes, and the
+shining ebony and brass pattens, and over all the great, full scarlet
+cloak,--all these made her an unusual and striking figure against the
+Wayland landscape, the snowy fields and great sombre pine trees of Heard's
+Island, as she trod trimly, in short pattened steps that crackled the
+kittly-benders in the shadowed roads, or sunk softly in the shallow mud of
+the sunny lanes on a snow-melting day in late winter. Would I could paint
+the picture as I see it!</p>
+
+<p>These pattens in the old trunk are prettier than most pattens which have
+been preserved. In general, they are rather shabby things. I have another
+pair--more commonplace, which chance to exist; they were not saved
+purposely. They are pictured <a
+href="#Iron_and_Leather_Pattens._1760.">here</a>.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="English_Clogs."></a>
+<img src="images\397.png" alt="English Clogs.">
+<H4>English Clogs.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>There is a most ungallant old riddle, &quot;Why is a wife like a
+patten?&quot; The answer reads, &quot;Because both are clogs.&quot; A very
+courteous bishop was once asked this uncivil query, and he answered without
+a moment's hesitation, &quot;Because both elevate the soul (sole).&quot;
+Pattens may be clogs, yet there is a difference. After much consultation of
+various authorities, and much discussion in the columns of various querying
+journals, I make this decision and definition. Pattens are thick, wooden
+soles roughly shaped in the outline of the human foot (in the shoemaker's
+notion of that member), mounted on a round or oval ring of iron, fixed by
+two or three pins to the sole, in such a way that when the patten is worn
+the sole of the wearer's foot is about two inches above the ground. A
+heel-piece with buckles and straps, strings or buttons and leather loops,
+and a strap over the toe, retain the patten in place upon the foot when the
+wearer trips along. (See <a
+href="#Iron_and_Leather_Pattens._1760.">here</a>.) Clogs serve the same
+purpose, but are simply wooden soles tipped and shod with iron. These also
+have heel-pieces and straps of various materials--from the heavy
+serviceable leather shown in the clogs <a
+href="#Oak,_Iron,_and_Leather_Clogs._1790.">here</a> and <a
+href="#English_Clogs.">here</a> to the fine brocade clogs made and worn by
+two brides and pictured <a
+href="#Brides'_Clogs_of_Brocade_and_Sole_Leather.">here</a>. Dainty brass
+tips and colored morocco straps made a really refined pair of clogs. Poplar
+wood was deemed the best wood for pattens and clogs. Sometimes the wooden
+sole was thin, and was cut at the line under the instep in two pieces and
+hinged. These hinges were held to facilitate walking. Children also wore
+clogs. (See <a href="#Children's_Clogs._1730.">here</a>.) Clogs, as worn by
+English and American folk, did not raise the wearer as high above the mud
+and mire as did pattens, but I have seen Turkish clogs that were ten inches
+high. Chopines were worn by Englishwomen to make them look taller. Three
+are shown <a href="#Chopines,_Seventeenth_Century">here</a>. Lady Falkland
+was short and stout, and wore them for years to increase her apparent
+height; so she states in her memoirs.</p>
+
+<p>It is a curious philological study that, while the words
+&quot;clogs&quot; and &quot;pattens&quot; for a time were constantly heard,
+the third name which has survived till to-day is the oldest of
+all--&quot;galoshes.&quot; Under the many spellings, galoe-shoes, goloshes,
+gallage, galoche, and gallosh, it has come down to us from the Middle Ages.
+It is spelt galoches in <i>Piers Plowman</i>. In a <i>Compotus</i>--or
+household account of the Countess of Derby in 1388 are entries of botews
+(boots), souters (slippers), and &quot;one pair of galoches, 14 d.&quot;
+Clogs, or galoches, were known in the days of the Saxons, when they were
+termed &quot;wife's shoes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A &quot;galage&quot; was a shoe &quot;which has nothing on the feet but
+a latchet&quot;; it was simply a clog. In February, 1687, Judge Sewall
+notes, &quot;Send my mothers Shoes &amp; Golowshoes to carry to her.&quot;
+In 1736 Peter Faneuil sent to England for &quot;Galoushoes&quot; for his
+sister. Another foot-covering for slippery, icy walking is named by Judge
+Sewall. He wrote on January 19, 1717, &quot;Great rain and very Slippery;
+was fain to wear Frosts.&quot; These frosts were what had been called on
+horses, &quot;frost nails,&quot; or calks. They were simply spiked soles to
+help the wearer to walk on ice. A pair may be seen at the Deerfield
+Memorial Hall. Another pair is of half-soles with sharp ridges of iron,
+set, one the length of the half-sole, the other across it.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Chopines,_Seventeenth_Century"></a>
+<img src="images\399.png" alt="Chopines, Seventeenth Century. In the Ashmolean Museum.">
+<H4>Chopines, Seventeenth Century. In the Ashmolean Museum.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>For a time clogs seem to have been in constant use in America; frail
+morocco slippers and thin prunella and callimanco shoes made them
+necessary, as did also the unpaved streets. Heavy-soled shoes were unknown
+for women's wear. Women walked but short distances. In the country they
+always rode. We find even Quaker women warned in 1720 not to wear
+&quot;Shoes of light Colours bound with Differing Colours, and heels White
+or Red, with White bands, and fine Coloured Clogs and Strings, and Scarlet
+and Purple Stockings and Petticoats made Short to expose them&quot;--a
+rather startling description of footwear. Again, in 1726, in Burlington,
+New Jersey, Friends were asked to be &quot;careful to avoid wearing of
+Stript Shoos, or Red and White Heel'd Shoos, or Clogs, or Shoos trimmed
+with Gawdy Colours.&quot;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Brides'_Clogs_of_Brocade_and_Sole_Leather."></a>
+<img src="images\400.png" alt="Brides' Clogs of Brocade and Sole Leather.">
+<H4>Brides' Clogs of Brocade and Sole Leather.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Ann Warder, an English Quaker, was in Philadelphia, 1786 to 1789, and
+kept an entertaining journal, from which I make this quotation:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Got B. Parker to go out shopping with me. On our way
+happened of Uncle Head, to whom I complained bitterly of the dirty
+streets, declaring if I could purchase a pair of pattens, the singularity
+I would not mind. Uncle soon found me up an apartment, out of which I
+took a pair and trotted along quite Comfortable, crossing some streets
+with the greatest ease, which the idea of had troubled me. My little
+companion was so pleased, that she wished some also, and kept them on her
+feet to learn to walk in them most of the remainder of the
+day.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Fairholt, in his book upon costume, says, &quot;Pattens date their
+origin to the reign of Anne.&quot; Like many other dates and statements
+given by this author, this is wholly wrong. In <i>Purchas', his
+Pilgrimage</i>, 1613, is this sentence, &quot;Clogges or Pattens to keep
+them out of the dust they may not burden themselves with,&quot; showing
+that the name and thing was the same then as to-day.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Clogs_of_&quot;Pennsylvania_Dutch.&quot;"></a>
+<img src="images\401.png" alt="Clogs of &quot;Pennsylvania Dutch.&quot;">
+<H4>Clogs of &quot;Pennsylvania Dutch.&quot;</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Charles Dibdin has a song entitled, <i>The Origin of the Patten</i>.
+Fair Patty went out in the mud and the mire, and her thin shoes speedily
+were wet. Then she became hoarse and could not sing, while her lover longed
+for the sweet sound of her voice.</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;My anvil glow'd, my hammer rang,<br>
+Till I had form'd from out the fire<br>
+To bear her feet above the mire,<br>
+ A platform for my blue-eyed Patty.<br>
+Again was heard each tuneful close,<br>
+My fair one in the patten rose,<br>
+&nbsp; Which takes its name from blue-eyed Patty.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>This fanciful derivation of the word was not an original thought of
+Dibdin. Gay wrote in his Trivia, 1715:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The patten now supports each frugal dame<br>
+That from the blue-eyed Patty takes the name.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>In reality, patten is derived from the French word <i>patin</i>, which
+has a varied meaning of the sole of a shoe or a skate.</p>
+
+<p>Pattens were noisy, awkward wear. A writer of the day of their
+universality wrote, &quot;Those ugly, noisy, ferruginous, ancle-twisting,
+foot-cutting, clinking things called women's pattens.&quot; Notices were
+set in church porches enjoining the removal of women's pattens, which, of
+course, should never have been worn into church during service-time.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Children's_Clogs._1730."></a>
+<img src="images\402.png" alt="Children's Clogs. 1730.">
+<h4>Children's Clogs. 1730.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>It may have disappeared today, but four years ago, on the door of
+Walpole St. Peters, near Wisbeck, England, hung a board which read,
+&quot;People who enter this church are requested to take off their
+pattens.&quot; A friend in Northamptonshire, England, writes me that
+pattens are still seen on muddy days in remote English villages in that
+shire.</p>
+
+<p>Men wore pattens in early days. And men did and do wear clogs in English
+mill-towns.</p>
+
+<p>There were also horse pattens or horse clogs which horses wore through
+deep, muddy roads; I have an interesting photograph of a pair found in
+Northampton.</p>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="#XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES</h3>
+<blockquote><i>&quot;By my Faith! Master Inkpen, thou hast put thy foot in
+it! Tis a pretty subject and a strange one, and a vast one, but we'll
+leave it never a sole to stand on. The proverb hath 'There's naught like
+leather,' but my Lady answers 'Save silk:'&quot;</i><br> <br> --Old
+Play.<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>BATTS AND BROAGS, BOOTS AND SHOES</h3>
+<p style='text-indent: 0em'> <img src="images\initialo.png" align=left
+alt="O">ne of the first sumptuary laws in New England declared that men of
+mean estate should not walk abroad in immoderate great boots. It was a
+natural prohibition where all extravagance in dress was reprehended and
+restrained. The &quot;great boots&quot; which had been so vast in the reign
+of James I seemed to be spreading still wider in the reign of Charles. I
+have an old &quot;Discourse&quot; on leather dated 1629, which states fully
+the condition of things. Its various headings read, &quot;The general Use
+of Leather;&quot; &quot;The general Abuse thereof;&quot; &quot;The good
+which may arise from the Reformation;&quot; &quot;The several Statutes made
+in that behalf by our ancient Kings;&quot; and lastly a &quot;Petition to
+the High Court of Parliament.&quot; It is all most informing; for instance,
+in the trades that might want work were it not for leather are named not
+only &quot;shoemakers, cordwainers, curriers, etc.,&quot; but many now
+obsolete. The list reads:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Book binders.<br>
+Budget makers.<br>
+Saddlers.<br>
+Trunk makers.<br>
+Upholsterers.<br>
+Belt makers.<br>
+Case makers.<br>
+Box makers.<br>
+Wool-card makers.<br>
+Cabinet makers.<br>
+Shuttle makers.<br>
+Bottle and Jack makers.<br>
+Hawks-hood makers.<br>
+Gridlers.<br>
+Scabbard-makers.<br>
+Glovers.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Unwillingly the author added &quot;those <i>upstart trades</i>--Coach
+Makers, and Harness Makers for Coach Horses.&quot; It was really feared, by
+this sensible gentleman-writer--and many others--that if many carriages and
+coaches were used, shoemakers would suffer because so few shoes would be
+worn out.</p>
+
+<p>From the statutes which are rehearsed we learn that the footwear of the
+day was &quot;boots, shoes, buskins, startups, slippers, or
+pantofles.&quot; Stubbes said:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;They have korked shooes puisnets pantoffles, some of
+black velvet, some of white some of green, some of yellow, some of Spanish
+leather, some of English leather stitched with Silke and embroidered with
+Gold &amp; Silver all over the foot.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>A very interesting book has been published by the British Cordwainers'
+Guild, giving a succession of fine illustrations of the footwear of
+different times and nations. Among them are some handsome English slippers,
+shoes, jack-boots, etc. We have also in our museums, historical
+collections, and private families many fine examples; but the difficulty is
+in the assigning of correct dates. Family tradition is absolutely wide of
+the truth--its fabulous dates are often a century away from the proper
+year.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="The_Copley_Family_Picture."></a>
+<img src="images\406.png" alt="The Copley Family Picture.">
+<h4>The Copley Family Picture.</H4>
+</center>
+
+<center>
+<a name="Wedding_Slippers_and_Brocade._1712."></a>
+<img src="images\407.png" alt="Wedding Slippers and Brocade. 1712.">
+<h4>Wedding Slippers and Brocade. 1712.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Buskins to the knee were worn even by royalty; Queen Elizabeth's still
+exist. Buskins were in wear when the colonies were settled. Richard Sawyer,
+of Windsor, Connecticut, had cloth buskins in 1648; and a hundred years
+later runaway servants wore them. One redemptioner is described as running
+off in &quot;sliders and buskins.&quot; American buskins were a
+foot-covering consisting of a strong leather sole with cloth uppers and
+leggins to the knees, which were fastened with lacings. Startups were
+similar, but heavier. In Thynne's <i>Debate between Pride and
+Lowliness</i>, the dress of a countryman is described. It runs thus:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;A payre of startups had he on his feete<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That lased were up to the small of the legge.<br>
+&nbsp;Homelie they are, and easier than meete;<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And in their soles full many a wooden pegge.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Thomas Johnson of Wethersfield, Connecticut, died in 1840. He owned
+&quot;1 Perre of Startups.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Slippers were worn even in the fifteenth century. In the <i>Paston
+Letters</i>, in a letter dated February 23, 1479, is this sentence,
+&quot;In the whych lettre was VIII d with the whych I shulde bye a peyr of
+slyppers.&quot; Even for those days eightpence must have been a small price
+for slippers. In 1686, Judge Samuel Sewall wrote to a member of the Hall
+family thanking him for &quot;The Kind Loving Token--the East Indian
+Slippers for my wife.&quot; Other colonial letters refer to Oriental
+slippers; and I am sure that Turkish slippers are worn by Lady Temple in
+her childish portrait, painted in company with her brother. Slip-shoes were
+evidently slippers--the word is used by Sewall; and slap-shoes are named by
+Randle Holme. Pantofles were also slippers, being apparently rather
+handsomer footwear than ordinary slippers or slip-shoes. They are in
+general specified as embroidered. Evelyn tells of the fine pantofles of the
+Pope embroidered with jewels on the instep.</p>
+
+<p>So great was the use and abuse of leather that a petition was made to
+Parliament in 1629 to attempt to restrict the making of great boots. One
+sentence runs:--</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;The wearing of Boots is not the Abuse; but the generality
+of wearing and the manner of cutting Boots out with huge slovenly
+unmannerly immoderate tops. What over lavish spending is there in Boots and
+Shoes. To either of which is now added a French proud Superfluity of
+Leather.<br> <br> &quot;For the general Walking in Boots it is a Pride
+taken up by the Courtier and is descended to the Clown. The Merchant and
+Mechanic walk in Boots. Many of our Clergy either in neat Boots or Shoes
+and Galloshoes. University Scholars maintain the Fashion likewise. Some
+Citizens out of a Scorn not to be Gentile go every day booted. Attorneys,
+Lawyers, Clerks, Serving Men, All Sorts of Men delight in this Wasteful
+Wantonness.<br> <br> &quot;Wasteful I may well call it. One pair of boots
+eats up the leather of six reasonable pair of men's
+shoes.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Jack-boots._Owned_by_Lord_Fairfax_of_Virginia."></a>
+<img src="images\409.png" alt="Jack-boots. Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia.">
+<h4>Jack-boots. Owned by Lord Fairfax of Virginia.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Monstrous boots seem to have been the one frivolity in dress which the
+Puritans could not give up. In the reign of Charles I boots were superb.
+The tops were flaring, lined within with lace or embroidered or fringed;
+thus when turned down they were richly ornamental. Fringes of leather,
+silk, or cloth edged some boot-tops on the outside; the leather itself was
+carved and gilded. The soldiers and officers of Cromwell's army sometimes
+gave up laces and fringes, but not the boot-tops. The Earl of Essex, his
+general, had cloth fringes on his boots. (See his portrait facing <a
+href="#ROBERT_DEVEREUX">here</a>; also the portrait of Lord Fairfax <a
+href="#The_right_Honourable_Ferdinand--Lord_Fairfax.">here</a>.) In the
+court of Charles II and Louis XIV of France the boot-tops spread to absurd
+inconvenience. The toes of these boots were very square, as were the toes
+of men's and women's shoes. Children's shoes were of similar form. The
+singular shoes worn by John Quincy and Robert Gibbes are precisely
+right-angled. It was a sneer at the Puritans that they wore pointed toes.
+The shoe-ties, roses, and buckles varied; but the square toes lingered,
+though they were singularly inelegant. On the feet of George I (see
+portrait <a href="#George_I.">here</a>) the square-toed shoes are ugly
+indeed.</p>
+
+<p>James I scornfully repelled shoe-roses when brought to him for his wear;
+asking if they wished to &quot;make a ruffle-footed dove&quot; of him. But
+soon he wore the largest rosettes in court. Peacham tells that some cost as
+much as &pound;30 a pair, being then, of course, of rare lace.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Joshua_Warner."></a>
+<img src="images\411.png" alt="Joshua Warner.">
+<h4>Joshua Warner.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p><i>Friar Bacon's Brazen Head Prophecie</i>, set into a &quot;Plaie&quot;
+or Rhyme, has these verses (1604):</p>
+
+<blockquote>&quot;Then Handkerchers were wrought<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With Names and true Love Knots;<br>
+&nbsp;And not a wench was taught<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A false Stitch in her spots;<br>
+&nbsp;When Roses in the Gardaines grew<br>
+&nbsp;And not in Ribons on a Shoe.<br>
+<br>
+&quot;<i>Now</i> Sempsters few are taught<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The true Stitch in their Spots;<br>
+&nbsp;And Names are sildome wrought<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Within the true love knots;<br>
+&nbsp;And Ribon Roses takes such Place<br>
+&nbsp;That Garden Roses want their Grace.&quot;<br></blockquote>
+
+<p>Shoes of buff leather, slashed, were the very height of the fashion in
+the first years of the seventeenth century. They can be seen on the feet of
+Will Sommers in his portrait. Through the slashes showed bright the scarlet
+or green stockings of cloth or yarn. Bright-colored shoe-strings gave
+additional gaudiness. Green shoe-strings, spangled, gilded shoe-strings,
+shoes of &quot;dry-neat-leather tied with red ribbons,&quot; &quot;russet
+boots,&quot; &quot;white silken shoe strings,&quot;--all were worn.</p>
+
+<p>Red heels appear about 1710. In Hogarth's original paintings they are
+seen. Women wore them extensively in America.</p>
+
+<p>The jack-boots of Stuart days seem absolutely imperishable. They are of
+black, jacked leather like the leather bottles and black-jacks from which
+Englishmen drank their ale. So closely are they alike that I do not wonder
+a French traveller wrote home that Englishmen drank from their boots. These
+jack-boots were as solid and unpliable as iron, square-toed and clumsy of
+shape. A pair in perfect preservation which belonged to Lord Fairfax in
+Virginia is portrayed <a
+href="#Jack-boots._Owned_by_Lord_Fairfax_of_Virginia.">here</a>. Had all
+colonial gentlemen worn jack-boots, the bootmakers and shoemakers would
+have been ruined, for a pair would last a lifetime.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Shoe_and_Knee_Buckles."></a>
+<img src="images\413.png" alt="Shoe and Knee Buckles.">
+<h4>Shoe and Knee Buckles.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>In 1767 we find William Cabell of Virginia paying these prices for his
+finery:--</p>
+
+<table>
+<tr><td></td><td>&pound;</td><td align=right>s.</td><td>d.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pair single channelled boots with straps</td><td> 1</td><td align=right> 2</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pair Strong Buckskin Breeches</td><td>1</td><td align=right> 10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>2 Pairs Fashionable Chain Silver Spurs </td><td> 2</td><td align=right> 10</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Pair Silver Buttons </td><td></td><td align=right> 6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 fine Magazine Blue Cloth Housing laced</td><td></td><td align=right>12</td></tr>
+<tr><td>1 Strong Double Bridle</td><td></td><td align=right>4</td><td align=right> 6</td></tr>
+<tr><td>6 Pair Men's fine Silk Hose</td><td> 4 </td><td align=right> 4</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Buttons &amp; trimmings for a coat</td><td> 5</td><td align=right> 2</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>New England dandies wore, as did Monsieur A-la-mode:--</p>
+
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;A pair of smart pumps made up of grain'd leather,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;So thin he can't venture to tread on a feather.&quot;<br>
+
+<p>Buckles were made of pinchbeck, an alloy of four parts of copper and one
+part of zinc, invented by Christopher Pinchbeck, a London watchmaker of the
+eighteenth century. Buckles were also &quot;plaited&quot; and double
+&quot;plaited&quot; with gold and silver (which was the general spelling of
+plated). Plated buckles were cast in pinchbeck, with a pattern on the
+surface. A silver coating was laid over this. These buckles were set with
+marcasite, garnet, and paste jewels; sometimes they were of gold with real
+diamonds. But much imitation jewellery was worn by all people even of great
+wealth. Perhaps imitation is an incorrect word. The old paste jewels made
+no assertion of being diamonds. Steel cut in facets and combined with gold,
+made beautiful buckles. A number of rich shoe and garter buckles, owned in
+Salem, are shown <a href="#Shoe_and_Knee_Buckles.">here</a>.</p>
+
+<p>These old buckles were handsome, costly, dignified; they were becoming;
+they were elegant. Nevertheless, the fashionable world tired of its
+expensive and appropriate buckles; they suddenly were deemed inconveniently
+large, and plain shoe-strings took their place. This caused great commotion
+and ruin among the buckle-makers, who, with the fatuity of other
+tradespeople--the wig-makers, the hair-powder makers--in like calamitous
+changes of fashion, petitioned the Prince of Wales, in 1791, to do
+something to revive their vanishing trade. But it was like placing King
+Canute against the advancing waves of the sea.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Wedding_Slippers."></a>
+<img src="images\415.png" alt="Wedding Slippers.">
+<h4>Wedding Slippers.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>When the Revolutionists in France set about altering and simplifying
+costume, they did away with shoe-buckles, and fastened their shoes with
+plain strings. Minister Roland, one day in 1793, was about to present
+himself to Louis XVI while he was wearing shoes with strings. The old
+Master of Ceremonies, scandalized at having to introduce a person in such a
+state of undress, looked despairingly at Dumouriez, who was present.
+Dumouriez replied with an equally hopeless gesture, and the words,
+&quot;H&eacute;las! oui, monsieur, tout est perdu.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>President Jefferson, with his hateful French notions, made himself
+especially obnoxious to conservative American folk by giving up
+shoe-buckles. I read in the <i>New York Evening Post</i> that when he
+received the noisy bawling band of admirers who brought into the White
+House the Mammoth Cheese (one of the most vulgar exhibitions ever seen in
+this country), he was &quot;dressed in his suit of customary black, with
+shoes that laced tight round the ankle and closed with a neat leathern
+string.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When shoe-strings were established and trousers were becoming popular,
+there seemed to be a time of indecision as to the dress of the legs below
+the short pantaloons and above the stringed shoes. That point of
+indefiniteness was filled promptly with top-boots. First, black tops
+appeared; then came tops of fancy leather, of which yellow was the
+favorite. Gilt tassels swung pleasingly from the colored tops. Silken
+tassels--home made--were worn. I have a letter from a young American
+macaroni to his sweetheart in which he thanks her for her
+&quot;heart-filling boot-tossels&quot;--which seems to me a very cleverly
+flattering adjective. He adds: &quot;Did those rosy fingers twist the
+silken strands, and knot them with thought of the wearer? I wish you was
+loveing enough to tye some threads of your golden hair into the tossells,
+but I swear I cannot find never a one.&quot; The conjunction of two
+negatives in this manner was common usage a hundred years ago; while
+&quot;you was&quot; may be found in the writings of our greatest authors of
+that date.</p>
+
+<p>In one attribute, women's footwear never varied in the two centuries of
+this book's recording. It was always thin-soled and of light material;
+never adequate for much &quot;walking abroad&quot; or for any wet weather.
+In fact, women have never worn heavy walking-boots until our own day.
+Whether high-heeled or no-heeled they were always thin.</p>
+
+<p>The curious &quot;needle-pointed&quot; slippers which are pictured <a
+href="#Wedding_Slippers_and_Brocade._1712.">here</a> were the bridal
+slippers at the wedding of Cornelia de Peyster, who married Oliver Teller
+in 1712. Several articles of her dress still exist; and the background of
+the slippers is a breadth of the superb yellow and silver brocade wedding
+gown worn at the same time.</p>
+
+<p>When we have the tiny pages of the few newspapers to turn to, we learn a
+little of women's shoes. There were advertisements in 1740 of
+&quot;mourning shoes,&quot; &quot;fine silk shoes,&quot; &quot;flowered
+russet shoes,&quot; &quot;white callimanco shoes,&quot; &quot;black shammy
+shoes,&quot; &quot;girls' flowered russet shoes,&quot; &quot;shoes of black
+velvet, white damask, red morocco, and red everlasting.&quot; &quot;Damask
+worsted shoes in red, blue, green, pink color and white,&quot; in 1751.
+There were satinet patterns for ladies' shoes embroidered with flowers in
+the vamp. The heels were &quot;high, cross-cut, common, court, and
+wurtemburgh.&quot; Some shoes were white with russet bands. &quot;French
+fall&quot; shoes were worn both by women and men for many years.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Mrs._Abigail_Bromfield_Rogers."></a>
+<img src="images\418.png" alt="Mrs. Abigail Bromfield Rogers.">
+<h4>Mrs. Abigail Bromfield Rogers.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p><a href="#Wedding_Slippers.">Here</a> is a pair of beautiful brocade
+wedding shoes. The heels are not high. Another pair was made of the silken
+stuff of the beautiful sacque worn by Mrs. Carroll. These have high heels
+running down to a very small heel-base. In the works of Hogarth we may find
+many examples of women's shoes. In all the old shoes I have seen, made
+about the time of the American Revolution, the maker's name is within and
+this legend, &quot;Rips mended free.&quot; Many heels were much higher and
+smaller than any given in this book.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="Mrs._Carroll's_Slippers."></a>
+<img src="images\419.png" alt="Mrs. Carroll's Slippers.">
+<h4>Mrs. Carroll's Slippers.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>It is astonishing to read the advocacy and eulogy given by sensible
+gentlemen to these extreme heels. Watson, the writer of the <i>Annals of
+Philadelphia</i>, extolled their virtues--that they threw the weight of the
+wearer on the ball of the foot and spread it out for a good support. He
+deplores the flat feet of 1830.</p>
+
+<p>In 1790 heels disappeared; sandal-shapes were the mode. The quarters
+were made low, and instead of a buckle was a tiny bow or a pleated ribbon
+edging. In 1791 &quot;the exact size&quot; of the shoe of the Duchess of
+York was published--a fashionable fad which our modern sensation hunters
+have not bethought themselves of. It was 5 3/4 inches in length; the
+breadth of sole, 1 3/4 inches. It was a colored print, and shows that the
+lady's shoe was of green silk spotted with gold stars, and bound with
+scarlet silk. The sole is thicker at the back, forming a slight uplift
+which was not strictly a heel. Of course, this was a tiny foot, but we do
+not know the height of the duchess.</p>
+
+<p>I have seen the remains of a charming pair of court shoes worn in France
+by a pretty Boston girl. These had been embroidered with paste jewels,
+&quot;diamonds&quot;; while to my surprise the back seam of both shoes was
+outlined with paste emeralds. I find that this was the mode of the court of
+Marie Antoinette. The queen and her ladies wore these in real jewels, and
+in affectation wore no jewels elsewhere.</p>
+
+<p>In Mrs. Gaskell's <i>My Lady Ludlow</i> we are told that my lady would
+not sanction the mode of the beginning of the century which &quot;made all
+the fine ladies take to making shoes.&quot; Mrs. Blundell, in one of her
+novels, sets her heroine (about 1805) at shoe-making. The shoes of that day
+were very thin of material, very simple of shape, were heelless, and in
+many cases closely approached a sandal. A pair worn by my great-aunt at
+that date is shown on this page. American women certainly had tiny feet.
+This aunt was above the average height, but her shoes are no larger than
+the number known to-day as &quot;Ones&quot;--a size about large enough for
+a girl ten years old.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<a name="White_Kid_Slippers._1815."></a>
+<img src="images\421.png" alt="White Kid Slippers. 1815.">
+<h4>White Kid Slippers. 1815.</H4>
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>It was not long after English girls were making shoes that Yankee girls
+were shaping and binding them in New England. I have seen several old
+letters which gave rules for shaping and directions for sewing party-shoes
+of thin light kid and silk. It is not probable that any heavy materials
+were ever made up by women at home. Sandals also were worn, and made by
+girls for their own wear from bits of morocco and kid.</p>
+
+<p>In the early years of the century the thin, silk hose and low slippers
+of the French fashions proved almost unendurable in our northern winters.
+One wearer of the time writes, &quot;Many a time have I walked Broadway
+when the pavement sent almost a death chill to my heart.&quot; The Indians
+then furnished an article of dress which must have been grateful indeed,
+pretty moccasins edged with fur, to be worn over the thin slippers.</p>
+
+<p>An old lady recalled with precision that the first boots for women's
+wear came in fashion in 1828; they were laced at the side. Garters and
+boots both had fringes at the top.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr class="full">
+<pre>
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CENTURIES OF COSTUME IN AMERICA,
+VOL. 1 (1620-1820)***
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