CHAPTER VIRUFFS AND BANDSWe 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 portraithere. 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. (Seehere.)Wither wrote thus of the varying modes of dressing the neck:—“Some are graced by their TyresAs their Quoyfs, their Hats, their Wyres,One a Ruff cloth best become;Falling bands allureth some;And their favours oft we seeChangèd 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 onehere, 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 theWits’ Recreationare 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.AndPride, 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, understandIn 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 hisSatireswrites:—“When a plum’d fan may hide thy chalked faceAnd lawny strips thy naked bosom grace.”Dr. Smith wrote in 1658 inPenelope and Ulysses:—“A stomacher upon her breast so bareFor 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 snowAnd gorgets brave with drawn-work wroughtA 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’sPilgrimageis 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 PeccadillyWhether 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 theMayflowersailed, 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 hisDiary, “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 portraithere, 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 inThe 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 pasteHas put the cravat out of date,”wrote Whyte in 1742.With this quotation we will turn from neckwear until a later period.CHAPTER VIICAPS AND BEAVERS IN COLONIAL DAYS“So many poynted cappesLased with double flapsAnd soe gay felted cappesSaw I never.“So propre cappesSo lyttle hattesAnd so false hartesSaw I never.”—“The Maner of the World Nowe-a-dayes,” JOHN SKELTON, 1548.“The Turk in linen wraps his headThe Persian his in lawn, too,The Russ with sables furs his capAnd change will not be drawn to.“The Spaniard’s constant to his blockThe Frenchman inconstant ever;But of all felts that may be feltGive me the English beaver.“The German loves his coney-woolThe Irishman his shag, too,The Welsh his Monmouth loves to wearAnd of the same will brag, too”—“A Challenge for Beauty,” THOMAS HAYWARD
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.
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 portraithere. 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.”
“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.”
“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. (Seehere.)
Wither wrote thus of the varying modes of dressing the neck:—
“Some are graced by their TyresAs their Quoyfs, their Hats, their Wyres,One a Ruff cloth best become;Falling bands allureth some;And their favours oft we seeChangèd 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.
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 onehere, 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 theWits’ Recreationare 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.AndPride, 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, understandIn 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.
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.”
“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.
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 hisSatireswrites:—
“When a plum’d fan may hide thy chalked faceAnd lawny strips thy naked bosom grace.”
Dr. Smith wrote in 1658 inPenelope and Ulysses:—
“A stomacher upon her breast so bareFor 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 snowAnd gorgets brave with drawn-work wroughtA 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’sPilgrimageis 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.”
“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 PeccadillyWhether 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.
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 theMayflowersailed, 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 hisDiary, “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 portraithere, 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.
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.
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 inThe 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.
“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 pasteHas put the cravat out of date,”
wrote Whyte in 1742.
With this quotation we will turn from neckwear until a later period.
“So many poynted cappesLased with double flapsAnd soe gay felted cappesSaw I never.“So propre cappesSo lyttle hattesAnd so false hartesSaw I never.”—“The Maner of the World Nowe-a-dayes,” JOHN SKELTON, 1548.“The Turk in linen wraps his headThe Persian his in lawn, too,The Russ with sables furs his capAnd change will not be drawn to.“The Spaniard’s constant to his blockThe Frenchman inconstant ever;But of all felts that may be feltGive me the English beaver.“The German loves his coney-woolThe Irishman his shag, too,The Welsh his Monmouth loves to wearAnd of the same will brag, too”—“A Challenge for Beauty,” THOMAS HAYWARD
“So many poynted cappesLased with double flapsAnd soe gay felted cappesSaw I never.“So propre cappesSo lyttle hattesAnd so false hartesSaw I never.”—“The Maner of the World Nowe-a-dayes,” JOHN SKELTON, 1548.“The Turk in linen wraps his headThe Persian his in lawn, too,The Russ with sables furs his capAnd change will not be drawn to.“The Spaniard’s constant to his blockThe Frenchman inconstant ever;But of all felts that may be feltGive me the English beaver.“The German loves his coney-woolThe Irishman his shag, too,The Welsh his Monmouth loves to wearAnd of the same will brag, too”—“A Challenge for Beauty,” THOMAS HAYWARD