  Among others of the gloves that remain from those old days, is a well-worn pair made of substantial leather, stitched with red and gold, and with a border pinked in the wrist. Very unpretentious, indeed, beside the hand-coverings of kings and queens and gilded nobles; yet their very wrinkles mean more to the world than the whole of that gaudy lot; for if tradition does not misinform us, these gloves were worn by England’s greatest son, Shakespeare. What a world of meaning that phrase attaches to these bits of leather, still bearing the imprint of the hand that penned the masterpieces of our literature. We are reminded that the bard’s father was a glover by trade, and we of to-day certainly have cause to rejoice that the son was not enamored of his father’s following, for who knows but that the hand that startled the world by its touch might only have plied a modest craft. Whatever may have been the shortcomings of the gloves of those days, certain it is there could be no complaint as to variety. Old records speak of “single gloves and gloves lin’d, top’d, lac’d, fringed with gold, silver, silk, and fur, and gloves of velvet, satin, and taffety.” The practice of wearing gloves at night to impart delicacy to the skin was common, in the seventeenth century, to gentlemen as well as ladies. To even greater lengths did the fairer sex go towards beautifying their complexion. It was not uncommon to wear gloves lined with unguents, or to cover the face with a mask plastered inside with a perfumed pomade. Some steeped slices of raw veal in milk and laid them on the face. “Young and tender beauties bathed in milk; beauties who were no longer young, and far from tender, bathed in wine or the like.” Gloves of chicken skin were thought to have peculiar virtue, and were worn at night to make the hands soft and white. They were so fine in texture that they could be packed in a nut-shell, and were prized by cavaliers as dainty gifts for their lady-loves. |
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