IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY

Familiarity has bred respect, even affection, for the typical costume of Charles I.'s reign, and that unfortunate monarch himself, depicted by Van Dyck in sombre coat and lace collar, is amongst the dear intimacies of our daily life. Sir Peter Lely, who followed on the footsteps of Van Dyck, left many modish records of his time, and though he has been rated for dressing his nymphs in inappropriate extravagances of fringes and embroidery, he undoubtedly clothed lovely woman with an excellent fantasy, bestowing height and grace by the length and simple disposition of his drapery. Mignard, the French artist, also wrote a page in fashion's history in his paintings of the Court ladies as Madonnas; covering the vanities of the sinner with the mantle of the saint, he was much sought after for his pains.

The main features of feminine costume in Charles I.'s reign may be realised in recalling the dresses which have so often appeared to delight us in the various presentations of stage plays of his period; the bodice is tight, the basque square and tabbed, and round the waist are a few folds of silk fastened into a rosette in the front; the lace collar falls from the neck to the shoulders in deep points, and the ringleted hair bears a ribbon rosette, or is surmounted by a plumed hat.

Henrietta, Queen of Charles I., is accredited with the introduction of female labour for clothing the outer woman, and from her day mantle-making ranked among female occupations. But the tailor still ruled supreme, and though the sex of the milliner was the more sympathetic, it was left to the next century to popularise feminine services.

The farthingale extended its circumference in the reign of James I., when much effort was taken to suppress it, for the King declared it occupied more room at his court than he himself. The ruff flourished, but less obtrusively than in the preceding reigns, and in its place was adopted what was known as a fall, a loose band overhanging the top of a wide collar starched and frilled at the base—a fancy some merry writer of the period noted with the epigram:

With the farthingale were worn long sleeves, lace coifs, and fluted basques, and stomachers; and later the long sleeves were replaced by those reaching the elbow, made in puffs tied with bows or tightly fitting and bordered with frills. Beneath the panier of the full skirt, which was trimmed with many bands of gold and embroidery, appeared a frilled apron, and the bodices were high at the back, and cut square in front, and over the shoulders was worn a scarf. Muffs were indispensable, and heads were decorated in monstrous disproportion.

The kings' favourites in France influenced dress by their caprices, which made to some extent for beauty, not conspicuously evident when the fontanges head-decoration was in vogue. This was a polyglot erection which owed its birth to the fact that the famous beauty, losing her hat one day in the hunting-field, tied her hair with her garter. The fontanges extended its glories to a framework of wire half a yard in height, which was divided into several tiers, each being covered with a different material; ribbon, chenille, pearls, flowers, and muslin were all brought into service, and beneath these a cluster of curls fell on the forehead. Each tier might take a different name, and amongst these, duke, cabbage, cat, organ-pipe, and mouse were chosen with as much rhyme as reason. But the christening of fashions was a common habit, and when Paris was reduced to misery by the Ligue, and depression was written large upon the dress, which, cut square and heavy in style, bore about it a suggestiveness of architecture, colours were distinguished by such quaint names as "Dying Monkey," "The Sick Spaniard," etc. Like the girl in some comic opera, "I wonder why?"

Mlle. de Ninon and Mesdames de Montespan and de Maintenon each inspired the names of a coiffure, a crown, and a cap, the last lady giving its title to a head-dress in the form of a scarf entwining a helmet. The battle of Steinkirk stood sponsor to a cravat and to a three-cornered fichu trimmed with gold and silver fringes; and the "Ninon" coiffure was parted in the front and flowed in curls at either side, the back being held by a ribbon.

No such distinction was gained by the English "mistresses" and maids of honour, whose names and escapades were legion; nor did they seek much individuality in their clothes, confident that the fashions prevailing were sufficient to excite the envy of the one sex and the admiration of the other; yet Lady Castlemaine, Miss Hamilton, Miss Warmestre, Miss Jennings, Miss Temple, Miss Price, Miss Stewart, and all the rest of the merry gang, were slaves of the mirror, and the joys of the masquerade were high in their favour, and for this no costume was too extravagantly absurd or too absurdly extravagant to obtain their satisfaction.

The distinguishing feature of fashion was the lace commode, which prevailed ubiquitously; its simplest charms are easily realised by the pictures on these pages, where, too, are evident examples of the chopine and the clogs, whose pas de fascination were executed under such disadvantages. High heels were conspicuous everywhere, but it was left to Italy to have the honour of popularising the most ridiculous fashion of the chopines or stilted clogs, which asserted themselves at different heights, mostly outrageous, beneath a covering of gauffered leather, a commodity which looks like the modern poker-work. The idea of the chopines was imported from Turkey to Italy and thence to England, where, however, it is well to mention, it received but the scantiest consideration. The height of the chopines served to indicate rank, and some were of such monstrous inconvenience that they necessitated their wearer being supported on either side while she walked. Every conceivable device was sought for the decoration of the shoes, and a frenzy of extravagance broke out in buckles of gold, silver, paste, and diamonds.

Charles II., from long residence in France, had much sympathy with fashion, which was beloved of men and women, who patronised the lace collar, the muff, the fanciful buttons, and feathers with equal enthusiasm. The sexes, too, shared a love for curls and the hats of broad brims, whose flopping habits proved so inconvenient that they were turned up first at one side and then at the other, and lastly at the back, when they developed into the well-loved cocked hat. Hat-bands were prominently important, made either of cord in silver or gold or silk, and glorified by the addition of jewels for the gay and witty Duke of Buckingham, who changed his love as often as his coat, and showed a prodigal appreciation of the arts of gallantry and costume. He led many of the fashions for men, and added to these a conspicuous number of ribbons, buckles, and cravats. He spared his friends neither his wit nor his money, and Dryden epitomised his fall: "He had his jest, while they had his estate."

Two manufactures which were accorded prominent attention in these times were the linen and button manufactures, the former being made from the yarn obtained in Ireland, while for the latter, inspiration came from various parts of the Continent. Steel, brass and copper, and jet were used to make these buttons, and their value is quoted from 3d. to 140 guineas per gross. Fairholt, writing on the subject, says: "Buttons were made sometimes like a picture, the back dark, upon which, in various degrees of relief, were placed in ivory or bone, figures and flowers. Others showed elegant patterns in white upon gilt, and many most tasteful appeared on Court suits, these being made of mother-of-pearl or ivory, the centre embellished with patterns in gilt."

Muslin came generally into use under such flimsy conditions that it was described by some writer as costing "some 30s. per yard, and being but the shadow of a commodity when procured." India was the happy hunting-ground for muslins till Flanders and Germany took up its cause and, in the eighteenth century, Bolton and Glasgow granted it special attention.

Elegance characterised many of the prevailing modes, which encouraged a conspicuous simplicity, when the superabundance of jewellery and most elaborate trimmings decreased to some extent, and a simple string of pearls was worn round the neck, and the studied nÉgligÉ became the highest expression of coquetry. The hair was curled into ringlets, and amidst these nestled a single rose or a chaplet of pearls; and at the sides it was slightly puffed over the ears, with some support of pad or wire to secure its righteous bearing.

Women of the lower classes wore muslin caps with ribbons twisted round them, but what lovely hats were obtainable by the wealthy! Above the long ringlets huge plumes waved over a hat of straw, or the velvet cap would be covered with feathers. Hair-dressing was a fine art, and many were the styles in which the ringlets were treated; they would be cut to graduated lengths, short in front and long at the back, or would only obtain at each side of the face and round the neck, the main portion of hair being drawn up on the top; or the hair was cut rather short, and curled over the head, while black ribbons and pearls decorated it.

The cultivation of beauty was earnest and intelligent, and all ladies of high degree owned amongst their retinue starchers and brushers, and the position of patches had a political significance according to the opinions of the fair patched. The patch, by the way, was brought into fame about 1655; though, owing its first existence to the times of the Romans, it cannot conscientiously claim this to be the date of its birth.

The house coats and gowns and petticoats were quilted, and being made of silk from Japan, China, and Persia and trimmed with Flemish lace, may be freely granted a cosmopolitan sympathy. An attractive description of a dress of this time tells of a musk-coloured silk shot with silver, with trails of silver flowers, trimmed with white bone lace, whose importation from foreign lands excited the displeasure of Charles II. Lace was a triumphant feature, being indispensable for the commodes, the frilled cravats, and the collars. It was useful alike to men and women, and beautiful specimens of lace were enriched with gold and silver under the auspices of Venice and Spain. Mazarin had, in endeavouring to stay the popular greed for lace, caused a small social revolution, and the French bought lace from England. Colbert was wiser in his generation, for he set up a factory at AlenÇon, and Brussels and Mechlin devoted themselves assiduously and most successfully to lace.

Amongst the vain efforts of an earlier period in France was one to kill fashion, whose reckless prodigality had been voted insupportable, and like to bring ruin to the people. A contemporary print shows the funeral of fashion, the design being of fashion led by four women and followed by a crowd of workpeople, while a sarcophagus in the background bears the following epitaph:—

But Louis XIV. was so appreciative of the charms of costume that he would distribute all materials, silks and satins and brocades, to his courtiers, and exercise some jurisdiction over the way these were to be made. Painting on silk and satin was amongst the novelties of his reign, but embroidery still held the affections of the prodigal, and at a fÊte at Vaux, Mlle. de la ValliÈre is recorded to have worn a gown of white with golden stars and leaves in Persian stitch, and a blue sash tied in a large knot upon her bosom, while her fair waving hair, entwined with flowers and pearls, fell in profusion about her neck and shoulders, and her gloves were of cream-coloured lace. A gold dress embroidered with gold is also included in the chronicles, and there were double borders of gold and silver to many of the under-skirts, which were made of silk or satin with a long train which was carried over the left arm. Bodices were trimmed with galon, ribbon, and lace, and Madame de SÉvignÉ writes of the "transparent gown," whose descendant lives to-day in our lace and jet frocks over tissue.

The Duchess of Bourgogne showed her nice taste in a gown of silver tissue with gold flowers outlined with orange and green, and again in a grey damask bordered with silver; and the same record tells of a mantilla of gold Spanish point lace, and of a coat and skirt of cloth of silver laced with silver, and worn with diamonds and rubies. "All werry capital," as Sam Weller might have observed, had he only heard of them.

Amongst the desirable and the desired was a blue camlet waistcoat embroidered and fringed with silver. Spanish broadcloth of the very finest description was dedicated to waistcoats and to the hunting and riding costumes which were as much masculine as feminine, and mainly picturesque, with small rapiers to emphasise the manly tone. All hats were feathered, and the cravats frilled, a state of affairs which excited comment from that irrepressible critic Pepys, who granted it small admiration when he wrote: "Walking in the galleries at White Hall I find the ladies of honour dressed in their riding garbs with coats and doublets and deep skirts, just for all the world like mine, and buttoned their doublets up to the breast, with periwigs and hats, so that only for a long petticoat dragging under their men's coats nobody could take them for women in any point whatever. It was an odd sight, and a sight which did not please me."

But Pepys, in his immortal diary, did not pay proper respect to fashion. He commented on the clothes of the ladies, it is true, but he showed a lamentable vagueness, if not careless indifference, about their details. Doubtless his notes on dress were quite satisfying to his masculine mind, but I find them practically useless in assuaging the deepest emotions of feminine curiosity. However, I know from him and other sources that Nell Gwynn, the careless slattern, wore a cart-wheel hat when delivering a prologue in a play, and furthermore that she "looked pretty" on one occasion when Pepys passed her as she stood at her lodging door in "smock-sleeves and a bodice," whatever such description might please to mean. Colours, shapes, and materials this inimitable gossip ignored as unimportant; yet it may be written down to his credit that he confessed he was moved when he saw Lady Castlemaine's smocks and linen petticoats hanging out to dry in the Privy garden at White Hall, laced with the richest lace at the bottom which ever he saw, and he vows, "they did me good to look at them"; and so much may we count for grace, even though I sigh to think of the number of tucks and gaugings he failed to mention.

It is to be hoped that, after that painful interview with the riding garb of the ladies at White Hall, he turned the other way and went back to the Privy garden and his joyful contemplation of Lady Castlemaine's under-wear.