popular, most of them padded or stuffed. There are trunk hose
that have the air of petticoats rolled inward half way up the
thigh. There is the “great round abominable breech,”
pegtop shaped from below the knee to waist, as it
appears in the well-known print of James himself with
hawk on fist. Among women of fashion obtained a remarkable
mode of exposing the breast, when the ruff and bodice were cut
away; and the wheel fardingale was still worn, an order against
it in 1613 rather increasing than diminishing its size. But
simpler fashions were setting in, and with the reign of Charles I.
the extravagances of padding and slashing disappear. The ruff
gives place at last to the falling band, a wide collar of lace or
plain linen. The belt or girdle ceases to be common wear, save
for those who hang a sword from it. Parties in the state come to
be known by their dress, and we have the Puritan, his crop head
covered by a wide-brimmed, high-crowned felt, without hatband
or feather, and his plain falling band over a staidly-cut coat.
Beside him we set the cavalier, lace
at his band edge, wrist and wide boot
tops. His hat is feathered, his
doublet lets the fine cambric of the
shirt be seen at the waist, his short
breeches are fringed with points or
tags. His long hair has one lock
brought over the left shoulder to be
marked as a lovelock by a ribbon at
the end. But the clothing of this age
has been illustrated by Van Dyck
and by a hundred other portrait
painters, who as illustrators of
costume take the place of the monumental
sculptors, then less commonly
called on for an effigy in the habit of
life. And the time of the Commonwealth
passes without notable change.
Those who were in power favoured a
sober habit, although we find General
Harrison in scarlet and clinquant
matching with Colonel Hutchinson
in courtly apparel, and before the Restoration the tract-writers
find matter of condemnation, especially in the items of patches,
hair-powder and face paints.
 |
| Fig. 42.—A Squire of a Knight of the Bath at the Crowning of Charles II. |
So far as the court was concerned, King Charles II. brought in the extravagant fashions of the courtiers of Louis XIV. The short-waisted doublets with loose sleeves slashed open at the sides, the short and wide petticoat breeches, their lining lower than the petticoat edge and tied below the knee, and the hose whose tops bagged over the garter, were in England before King Charles returned. He added to the breeches the rows of looped ribbons, gave falling ruffles to the knees of the hose and many feathers to the hat. The long, narrow-bladed rapier hung in a broad, embroidered belt, passed over the right shoulder, and the high-heeled shoes and knots of ribbons. Lely painted the women of this court in a studied negligence, but many pictures show us the loose sleeves turned up to the elbow with bows of ribbon, the close bodice ending in a loose gown worn over a full skirted petticoat, a wide collar covering the shoulders.
Pepys is our chief authority for the remarkable resolution of Charles to change the fashion of his dress to one which he would never alter, a decision which the king communicated to his council in October 1666. On the 15th of that month the diarist noted that “this day the king begins 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 cassocke close to the body, of black cloth and pinked with white silk under it, and a coat over it, and the legs ruffled with black riband like a pigeon’s leg ... a very fine and handsome garment.” Rugge’s diary records the same change to “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 sercoatt cutt at the breast, which hung loose and shorter than the vest six inches. The breeches the Spanish cut, and buskins, some of cloth, some of leather, but of the same colour as the vest or garment.” Says Evelyn, “a comely and manly habit, too good to hold.” Later in the same month Pepys saw the court “all full of vests, only my Lord St Albans not pinked, but plain black; and they say the king says the pinking upon whites makes them look too much like magpies, and therefore hath bespoke one of plain velvet.” The change, although the court was fickle, is of the first importance in the history of costume, for we have here the coat and waistcoat in a form from which our own coats and waistcoats derive without a break. Another important change affects dress for a century and a half. Just as costume begins to take the modern path we have the wig or peruke, strangest of all the fantasies of fashion, introduced as the wear for all men of standing. Pepys, the son of a tailor and a man with a shy affection for fine clothing, may again here be quoted. On a Sunday in February 1661 he “began to go forth in my coat and sword, as the manner now among gentlemen is.” In November 1663 he takes another step with fashion, going to the periwig-maker to have his hair cut off and to put on his first periwig, for which he paid 3l, another to be made up of the hair with which he had parted. The next day he wore the periwig to his office, and “no great matter was made of it.” Two days later my Lord Sandwich “wondered at first to see me in my peruque,” but even in church Pepys found that he drew little attention in the new guise. The same month the duke of York announced that he would wear the periwig, “and they say the king also will.” Thus began this costly and inconvenient mode. At home and at their ease men commonly replaced the wig with a soft silk or velvet “night-cap,” and the coat with a “morning gown” like our modern dressing gown.
