VII
COLLARS AND CUFFS

It is to be understood that the terms "collar" and "cuff" are here only intended to refer to those of linen, lace, or similar material, which are more or less separate from the rest of the costume. A "collar" is simply a neck-band, and may be of any material; in the case of Gurth, "born thrall of Cedric the Saxon," it was of iron, and was the symbol of his servitude. The term "collar" is also applied to certain articles of jewellery—

Tennyson, Last Tournament.

Collars are of a comparatively modern origin, although some form of covering for the neck has been employed from a very early period. The Romans made use of chin-cloths for the protection of the neck and throat, which were termed "focalia." These were worn by public orators, who from professional considerations were fearful of taking cold, and who, doubtless, contributed in no small degree to render the fashion of chin-cloths general. Some, says a writer on Roman antiquities (the Rev. Father Adam), made use of a handkerchief (sudarium) for this purpose. This is probably the origin of the cravat, which is in many countries called neck-handkerchief.

The thorax, of otter's skin, worn by Charlemagne during the colder months, has already been referred to in a previous chat.

The wimple, also, which was a development of the Roman chin-cloth, and which was worn for such an extended period from the Norman Conquest onwards, is noticed under head-coverings.

During the greater part of the period of York and Lancaster necks were worn bare, the "camise" appearing at the V-shaped junction of the bodice, the neck being ornamented with jewellery.

Shirt-bands were originally connected with neck-ruffs, and the ornament adjoined to the wristband of the shirt was known by the denomination of "ruffle," and was originally called the hand-ruff. In the inventory of apparel belonging to Henry VIII. occurs the item, "4 shirts with bands of silver and ruffles to the same, whereof one is perled with gold."

The ruff is said to have been first invented in the reign of Henry VI. by a Spanish lady of quality, to hide a wen which grew upon her neck. Its first appearance in England was about the time of the marriage of Queen Mary with Philip of Spain, these personages being represented upon the Great Seal of England in 1554 with small ruffs on the necks and wrists. The ruff appears in none of the portraits by Holbein, with the exception of one at Antwerp, which is dated 1543, the year before the painter's death, and is, moreover, a doubtful work. In many portraits by this master, however, the lawn or cambric shirt appears at the neck with the edges ruffled, and often delicately embroidered. In the well-known portrait of the Duchess of Milan belonging to the Duke of Norfolk, and at present in the National Gallery, such a ruffle appears at the neck and also at the wrists, the edges emphasised by a narrow embroidered border in black silk. This black embroidering was very generally employed during the reign of Henry VIII. It appears in a number of Holbein's portraits, both at the wrists and at the neck, and is quite probably due to Holbein's influence. There can be no reasonable doubt that this great painter influenced the dress of his time. The influence of his artistic personality would be considerable, and it is known that he designed dresses for the ladies of the court, several drawings for which are in the Basle Museum. In the inventory of the apparel of Henry VIII. appears: "One payer of sleves, passed over the arms with gold and silver, quilted with black silk, and ruffled at the hand with strawberry leaves and flowers of gold, embroidered with black silk."

Starching at this period had not reached England; ruffs, therefore, must have been an expensive luxury, as the starched linen, imported from Flanders, could not be worn after being washed.

In 1564, one Madame Dinghen, who, as her name suggests, hailed from Flanders, set up as a clear starcher in London, and appears to have made the trade of clear starching an extremely lucrative one. Her terms were four or five pounds for teaching "the most curious wives"[17] to starch, and one pound for the art of seething starch. The "curious wives" subsequently made themselves ruffs of lawn; whereupon arose the general scoffing by-word that they would shortly make their ruffs of spider's web.

A certain Richard Young, described as a justice, for a long time held the monopoly of the manufacture of starch in this country. From the Elizabethan State Papers we learn that in 1589 there was a prosecution against an infringer of the patent, to wit, Charles Glead, a gentleman of Kent, who declared to the Queen's messengers that he would make starch in the face of any patent or warrant yet granted, unless set down by Act of Parliament.

Setting-sticks, strutts, and poking-sticks were the tools used in the process of starching; the first made of wood or bone, and the latter of iron, which was heated in the fire. It was this heated tool which produced that beautiful regularity characteristic of this article of attire.

"They be made of yron or steele, and some of brass kept as bright as silver, yea, and some of silver itselfe; and it is well if in processe of time they grow not to be gold. The fashion whereafter they be made, I cannot resemble to anything so well as to a squirt, or a squibbe, which little children used, to squirt out water withall; and when they come to starching and setting of their ruffes, then must this instrument be heated in the fire, the better to stiffen the ruffe ... and if you woulde know the name of this goodly toole, forsooth, the devill hath given it to name a putter, or else a putting sticke, as I heare say" (Stubbes, "Anatomy of Abuses").

Upon the introduction of these tools, together with starch, ruffs rapidly increased in their proportions.

"They became," says Stow, "intolerably large," and were known in London as the "French fashion," in Paris as the "English monster." The greatest gallant was he who possessed the longest rapier and the deepest ruff. It became necessary to apply one of the usual remedies against these and other extravagances of dress—a proclamation, or an Act of Parliament; in this instance a proclamation. Citizens were compelled to reduce their rapiers to a yard in length and their ruffs to "a nail of a yard" in depth.

The unfinished engraving of the Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia, Archduchess of Austria,[18] will serve to give a very good idea of the dimensions and general appearance of these articles of attire.

Thus friend Philip Stubbes:—"They have now newly found out a more monstrous kind of ruff, of twelve, yea, sixteen lengths apiece, set three or four times double, and it is of some, fitly called, 'three steps and an half to the gallows.'"

The "divells cartwheele" attained its greatest circumference in 1582, when that love of change, inherent in the feminine breast, or possibly the grave and reverend appearance of the ruff, occasioned a revolt amongst the younger women, who were disinclined to hide the beauties of their swan-like necks and throats. The ruff was therefore opened in front and elevated behind. This was the gorget or whisk, which was used both plain and laced.

A curious advertisement appears in the Mercurius Publicus, of May 8, 1662:—

"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 strap hangers down before, was lost between New Palace and Whitehall. Reward, twenty shillings."

These whisks appear to have had a special proclivity for getting lost. PlanchÉ ("Cyclopedia of Costume") gives a similar advertisement:—

"'Lost, a tiffany whisk, with a great lace down and a little one up, large flowers, with a rail for the head and peak' (The Newes, June 20, 1664)."

On account of the weight of the "whisk"—it was formed of a wire framework covered with point lace—the "piccadilly" or stiffened collar was devised.

Hone in his "Everyday Book" writes—

"The picadil was the round hem, or the piece set about the edge or skirt of a garment, whether at top or bottom; also a kind of stiff collar, made in fashion of a band, that went about the neck and round about the shoulders: hence the term 'wooden picadilloes' (meaning the pillory) in Hudibras. At the time that ruffs and picadils were much in fashion, there was a celebrated ordinary near St. James's, called Piccadilly, because, as some say, it was the outmost or skirt house, situate at the end of the town; but it more probably took its name from one Higgins, a tailor, who made a fortune by picadils, and built this with a few adjoining houses. The name has by a few been derived from a much frequented house for the sale of these articles; but this probably took its rise from the circumstance of Higgins having built houses there, which, however, were not for selling ruffs."

Picardil is the diminutive of "picca," a pike or spear head, and was given to this article of attire from the resemblance of its stiffened edges to the points of spears. Philips ("World of Words," 1693) defines pickardil as the "hem about the skirt of a garment—the extremity or utmost end of everything." Whether the collar gave the name to the district or the district to the collar is a matter of some uncertainty; probably, however, the former. The thoroughfare which we now know as Piccadilly certainly did not exist at the time the picadil was first worn, and the district was then "the utmost end of everything"—that is, beyond the confines of the town.

Piccadilly as a place, or thoroughfare, is mentioned in "The Rehearsal," by George Villiers, second Duke of Buckingham, produced in the winter of 1671:—

A pickadil is mentioned in the old comedy of "Northward Ho" as part of a woman's dress.

On the visit of James I. to Cambridge in 1615, the Vice-Chancellor of the University thought fit to issue an order prohibiting "the fearful enormity and excess of apparel seen in all degrees, as, namely, strange piccadilloes, vast bands, huge cuffs, shoe-roses, tufts, locks and tops of hair, unbeseeming that modesty and carriage of students in so renowned a university."

The Church was still more fierce in its denunciation of these articles of attire. Hall, Bishop of Exeter, in a sermon, after having severely censured ruffs, farthingales, feathers, and paint, concludes with these words, which more than equal anything in Stubbes: "Hear this, ye popinjays of our time: hear this, ye plaster-faced Jezabels: God will one day wash them with fire and with brimstone."

There appears to be considerable contradiction of terms, as applied to the different collars, both with the writers of the time and with subsequent writers. Barnabe Rich, in his "Honesty of the Age," says: "The body is still pampered up in the very dropsy of excess.... He that some forty years sithence should have asked after a pickadilly, I wonder who should have understood him or could have told what a pickadilly had been, either fish or flesh."

There was, however, the small ruff, such as is seen in the portraits of Sir Thomas Gresham and Philip II. of Spain (pp. 121-123). There was the large formal ruff which appears in the portrait of Lord Burleigh (p. 93), and the still larger ruff of the Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia (p. 187). There was the less formal ruff which fell upon the shoulders, which is seen in many portraits by Franz Hals. There was the high standing pointed collar, such as appears in William Rogers's print of Queen Elizabeth. There was a plain high-standing collar without lace, which went round the back of the head. There was the plain collar of the Cromwellians, which covered the shoulders, and there was also the rich lace collar of the latter part of the reign of Charles I. The plaits of the ruff were occasionally pinned, the rows being sometimes two and three deep. In the "Antiquary," a comedy by Shakerley Marmion, 1641, quoted by Strutt, a lover says to his mistress: "Do you not remember what taskes you were wont to put upon me when I bestowed you gowns and petticoats: and you in return gave me bracelets and shoe-ties? How you fool'd me, and set me sometimes to pin pleats in your ruff two hours together?"

In an old play called "Lingua; or, the Combat of the Tongue and the Five Senses for Superiority," 1607, one of the characters remarks:—

"It is five hours ago since I set a dozen maids to attire a boy like a nice gentlewoman; but there is such doing with their looking-glasses; pinning, unpinning, setting, unsetting, formings and conformings; painting of blue veins, and rosy cheeks; such a stir with combs, cascanets, purls, falls, squares, busks, bodices, scarfs, necklaces, carkonels, rabatoes, borders, tires, fans, palisadoes, puffs, ruffs, cuffs, muffs, pustles, fusles, partlets, frislets, bandlets, fillets, corslets, pendulets, amulets, annulets, bracelets, and so many lets that the poor lady of the toilet is scarce dressed to the girdle. And now there is such calling for fardingales, kirtles, busk-points, shoe-ties and the like, that seven pedlars' shops, nay, all Stourbridge fair, will scarcely furnish. A ship is sooner rigged by far than a nice gentlewoman made ready."

Towards the latter part of the reign of Charles I. both ruff and whisk give place to the falling band, which was worn both plain and laced. It had, indeed, appeared earlier, even in the latter years of Elizabeth, but was not in general use until the time of Charles. The trouble occasioned by the ruff and whisk appears to have been a factor of their downfall. A character in the "Malecontent," 1604, exclaims: "There is such a deal of pinning these ruffles when a fine cleane fall is worth all."

The cravat, or neckcloth, which succeeded the ruff and band, did not come into general use until the latter part of the reign of the Merry Monarch; indeed, some similar form of neck covering became a necessity, on account of the monstrous size of the periwigs. It formed a large bow at the chin, with the ends richly laced. There was a variety of the neckcloth which was twisted like a corkscrew, the ends being drawn through a ring. This was called a "Steinkirk," from the circumstance of the French officers at the battle of that name in 1692, who could not find time to arrange their cravats, and adopted the readier means of twisting them in a knot. The laced ends of the cravat afterwards increased in size, and were drawn through the button-hole of the waistcoat.

"One of the knots of his tye hanging down his left shoulder, and his fringed cravat nicely twisted down his breast, and thrust through his gold button-hole, which looked exactly like my little Barbet's head in his gold collar" (David Garrick, "Bon Ton; or, High Life Below Stairs," 1775).

From a singular little pocket-manual upon the art of tying the cravat, by H. Le Blanc, Esq., published in 1828, it would appear that there are no less than two-and-thirty different styles of tying the cravat. These are demonstrated in sixteen lessons, with illustrations, together with portrait of the author, figured, as a matter of course, in an irreproachable cravat.

"When a man of rank makes his entrÉe into a circle distinguished for taste and elegance, and the usual compliments have passed on both sides, he will discover that his coat will attract only a slight degree of attention, but that the most critical and scrutinising examination will be made on the set of his Cravat. Should this unfortunately not be correctly and elegantly put on—no further notice will be taken of him; whether his coat be of the reigning fashion or not will be unnoticed by the assembly—all eyes will be occupied in examining the folds of the fatal Cravat.

"His reception will in the future be cold, and no one will move on his entrance; but if his Cravat is savamment and elegantly formed—although his coat may not be of the last cut—every one will rise to receive him with the most distinguished marks of respect, will cheerfully resign their seats to him, and the delighted eyes of all will be fixed on that part of his person which separates the shoulders from the chin—let him speak down-right nonsense he will be applauded to the skies; it will be said—'This man has critically and deeply studied the thirty-two lessons on the Art of Tying the Cravat.' But again reverse the picture—it will be found that the unfortunate individual who is not aware of the existence of this justly celebrated work—however well informed he may be on other subjects—will be considered as an ignorant pretender, and will be compelled to suffer the impertinence of the fop, who will treat him with disdain, merely because his Cravat is not correctly disposed—he will moreover be obliged to hear in silence, and to approve (under pain of being considered unacquainted with the common rules of politeness) all the remarks which he will thus subject himself to—occasionally relieved by hearing a whisper of, 'He cannot even put on a Cravat properly.'"

The reader will not expect, possibly will experience little desire, to be taken through the whole of the two-and-thirty lessons in the art of tying the cravat; a single illustration will probably suffice. It shall be, however, "the sovereign of cravat ties, the 'Noeud Gordien,' the origin of which is lost in the obscurity of antiquity."

The discovery of the name of the brilliant genius to whom the honour of this invention is due has, apparently, defied the most laborious researches on the part of the author. He can only tell us (what he believes is generally known) that Alexander the Great, although he could conquer a whole world, and, like a youthful character in the works of the immortal Dickens, sigh for more (soup, however, in the case of the juvenile), was still unable to comprehend the theory of its construction, and adopted the shorter and easier method of cutting it with his sword.

"Attention!"

Cravats when sent from the laundress should undergo a careful examination as to the washing, ironing, and folding, as the set of the cravat and neatness of the tie entirely depends upon this. Whether it be plain or coloured is apparently of little moment, and does not in the least affect its formation, but a stout one is recommended as offering more facilities to the daring fingers of the tyro who would accomplish this chef-d'oeuvre.

It now becomes necessary to meditate deeply and seriously upon the five following directions:—

1. Having carefully chosen the cravat, it must be placed on the neck, the ends left hanging (first time).

2. Take point K, pass it on the inside of point Z, and raise it (second time).

3. Lower point K on the tie, now half formed O (third time).

4. Then, without leaving point K, bend it inside and draw it between the point Z, which you repass to the left Y; in the tie now formed, Y O, thus accomplishing the formation of the knot.

5. "And last." Having accomplished the knot, flattened it with thumb and fore-finger, or with the iron (a small iron is recommended, with a handle, made expressly for the purpose, and moderately warm), you lower the points K Z, cross them, place a pin at the point of junction H, at once solving the problem which defied the greatest of the world's conquerors.

"The slightest error in the first fold of this tie will render all succeeding efforts, with the same handkerchief, entirely useless—we have said it."[19]

Although, as previously intimated, it is not proposed to wander through the labyrinth of the whole of the two-and-thirty lessons, two others may with advantage be referred to. Our author, though somewhat facetious, is distinctly entertaining.

DIAGRAMS ILLUSTRATING THE TYING OF THE "NŒUD GORDIEN."
A. The Cravat folded. B. The Cravat À la Byron. S. The Cravat Sentimentale.