Part 10

Says Congreve, in the "Way of the World":--

"The gentlemen stay but to comb, madam, and will wait on you."

Thomas Brown, in his "Letters from the Dead to the Living," presents a pen-portrait of beaux as they appeared at the commencement of the eighteenth century. Some of the passages are well worth reproducing, as they contain valuable information concerning wigs. "We met," says the writer, "three flaming beaux of the first magnitude. He in the middle made a most magnificent figure--his periwig was large enough to have loaded a camel, and he bestowed upon it at least a bushel of powder, I warrant you. His sword-knot dangled upon the ground, and his steinkirk, that was most agreeably discoloured with snuff from the top to the bottom, reach'd down to his waist; he carry'd his hat under his left arm, walk'd with both hands in the waistband of his breeches, and his cane, that hung negligently down in a string from his right arm, trail'd most harmoniously against the pebbles, while the master of it was tripping it nicely upon his toes or humming to himself." About this period in cold weather men wore muffs as well as wigs. A ballad, describing the frost fair on the Thames in the winter of 1683-84, mentions amongst those present:--

"A spark of the Bar with his cane and his muff."

Down to the middle of the eighteenth century wigs continued to increase in size. It will not now be without interest to direct attention to a few of the many styles of wigs. Randle Holme, in his "Academy of Armory," published in 1684, has some interesting illustrations, and we will draw upon him for a couple of pictures. Our first example is called the campaign-wig. He says it "hath knobs or bobs, or dildo, on each side, with a curled forehead." This is not so cumbrous as a periwig we have noticed. Another example from Holme is a smaller style of periwig with tail, and from this wig doubtless originated the familiar pig-tail. It was of various forms, and Swift says:--

"We who wear our wigs With fantail and with snake."

A third example given by Holme is named the "short-bob," and is a plain peruke, imitating a natural head of hair. "Perukes," says Malcolm, in his "Manners and Customs," "were an highly important article in 1734. Those of right gray human hair were four guineas each; light grizzle ties, three guineas; and other colours in proportion, to twenty-five shillings. Right gray human hair, cue perukes, from two guineas; white, fifteen shillings each, which was the price of dark ones; and right gray bob perukes, two guineas and a half; fifteen shillings was the price of dark bobs. Those mixed with horse-hair were much lower. It will be observed from the gradations in price, that real gray hair was most in fashion, and dark of no estimation." As time ran its course, wigs became more varied in form, and bore different names.

We find in the days of Queen Anne such designations as black riding-wigs, bag-wigs, and nightcap-wigs. These were in addition to the long, formally curled perukes. In 1706 the English, led by Marlborough, gained a great victory on the battlefield of Ramillies, and that gave the title to a long wig described as "having a long, gradually diminishing, plaited tail, called the 'Ramillie-tail,' which was tied with a great bow at the top, and a smaller one at the bottom." It was at the great battle fought before the town of Ramillies that France lost the whole Spanish Netherlands, and Europe gained a wig from the vanity of Louis XIV., of whom Thackeray irreverently speaks in his "Henry Esmond," as "a little, wrinkled old man, pock-marked, and with a great periwig and red heels." Lord Lyttelton in his letters thus refers to the French king: "Louis XIV. annexed great dignity to his peruke, which he increased to an enormous size, and made a lion's mane the object of its similitude. That monarch, who daily studied the part of a king, was never seen uncovered but by the barber who shaved him. It was not his practice to exchange his wig for a nightcap till he was enclosed by his curtains, when a page received the former from his hand and delivered it to him in the morning before he undrew them. The figure of the great Bourbon must at times have been truly ridiculous." It is stated in Read's Weekly Journal of May 1st, 1736, in a report of the marriage of the Prince of Wales, that "the officers of the Horse and Foot Guards wore Ramillie periwigs by His Majesty's order." This wig survived until the days of George III. We meet, in the reign of George II., other forms of the wig, and more titles for them; the most popular, perhaps, was the pig-tail. The pig-tails were worn hanging down the back, or tied up in a knot behind as shown in our illustration. This form of wig was popular in the army, but in 1804 orders were given for it to be reduced to seven inches in length, and finally, in 1808, to be cut off. It is recorded that when the Reform Bill of 1832 received the Royal assent, the Lord Bathurst of the period solemnly cut off his pig-tail, saying, "Ichabod, for the glory was departed."

In the first reformed Parliament only one pig-tail was returned, and that was Mr Sheppard, M.P. for Frome.

Here is a picture of an ordinary man; by no means can he be regarded as a beau. He is wearing a common bag-wig, dating back to about the middle of the eighteenth century. The style is modified to suit an individual taste, and for one who did not follow the extreme fashion of his time. In this example may be observed the sausage curls over the ear, and the frizziness over the forehead.

We have directed attention to the large periwigs, and given a portrait of the Earl of Albemarle wearing one. In the picture of the House of Commons in the time of Sir Robert Walpole we get an excellent indication of how popular the periwig was amongst the lawmakers of the land. Farquhar, in a comedy called "Love and a Bottle," brought out in 1698, says, "A full wig is imagined to be as infallible a token of wit as the laurel."

Tillotson is usually regarded as the first amongst the English clergy to adopt the wig. He said in one of his sermons: "I can remember since the wearing of hair below the ears was looked upon as a sin of the first magnitude, and when ministers generally, whatever their text was, did either find or make occasion to reprove the great sin of long hair; and if they saw any one in the congregation guilty in that kind, they would point him out particularly, and let fly at him with great zeal." Dr Tillotson died on November 24th, 1694. Wigs found favour with parsons, and in course of time they appear to have been indispensable. A volume, in 1765, was issued under the title of "Free Advice to a Young Clergyman," from the pen of the Rev. John Chubbe, in which he recommended the young preacher always to wear a full wig until age had made his own hair respectable. Dr Randolph, on his advancement to the bishopric, presumed to wait upon George IV. to kiss hands without wearing a wig. This could not be overlooked by the king, and he said, "My lord, you must have a wig." Bishops wore wigs until the days of William IV. Bishop Blomfield is said to have been the first bishop to set the example of wearing his own hair. Even as late as 1858, at the marriage of the Princess Royal of England, Archbishop Sumner appeared in his wig.

Medical men kept up the custom of wearing wigs for a long period: perhaps they felt like a character in Fielding's farce, "The Mock Doctor," who exclaims, "I must have a physician's habit, for a physician can no more prescribe without a full wig than without a fee." The wig known as the full-bottomed wig was worn by the medical profession:--

"Physic of old her entry made Beneath the immense, full-bottom'd shade; While the gilt cane, with solemn pride To each suspicious nose applied, Seemed but a necessary prop To bear the weight of wig at top."

We are told Dr Delmahoy's wig was particularly celebrated in a song which commenced:--

"If you would see a noble wig, And in that wig a man look big, To Ludgate Hill repair, my boy, And gaze on Dr Delmahoy."

In the middle of the last century so much importance was attached to this portion of a medical man's costume, that Dr Brocklesby's barber was in the habit of carrying a bandbox through the High Change, exclaiming: "Make way for Dr Brocklesby's wig!"

Professional wigs are now confined to the Speaker in the House of Commons, who, when in the chair, wears a full-bottomed one, and to judges and barristers. Such wigs are made of horse-hair, cleaned and curled with care, and woven on silk threads, and shaped to fit the head with exactness. The cost of a barrister's wig of frizzed hair is from five to six guineas.

An eminent counsel in years agone wished to make a motion before Judge Cockburn, and in his hurry appeared without a wig. "I hear your voice," sternly said his Lordship, "but I cannot see you." The barrister had to obtain the loan of a wig from a learned friend before the judge would listen to him.

Lord Eldon suffered much from headache, and when he was raised to the peerage he petitioned the king to allow him to dispense with the wig. He was refused, his Majesty saying he could not permit such an innovation. In vain did his lordship show that the wig was an innovation, as the old judges did not wear them. "True," said the king; "the old judges wore beards."

In more recent times we have particulars of several instances of both bench and bar discarding the use of the wig. At the Summer Assizes at Lancaster, in 1819, a barrister named Mr Scarlett hurried into court, and was permitted to take part in a trial without his wig and gown. Next day the whole of the members of the bar appeared without their professional badges, but only on this occasion, although on the previous day a hope had been expressed that the time was not far distant when the mummeries of costume would be entirely discarded.

We learn from a report in the Times of July 24th, 1868, that on account of the unprecedented heat of the weather on the day before, in the Court of Probate and Divorce the learned judge and bar appeared without wigs.

On July 22nd, 1873, it is recorded that Dr Kenealy rose to open the case for the defence in the Tichborne suit; he sought and obtained permission to remove his wig on account of the excessive heat.

Towards the close of the eighteenth century few were the young men at the Universities who ventured to wear their own hair, and such as did were designated Apollos. Women, as well as men, called into requisition, to add to their charms, artificial accessories in the form of wigs and curls. Ladies' hair was curled and frizzed with considerable care, and frequently false curls were worn under the name of heart-breakers. It will be seen from the illustration we give that these curls increased the beauty of a pretty face.

Queen Elizabeth, we gather from Hentzner and other authorities, wore false hair. We are told that ladies, in compliment to her, dyed their hair a sandy hue, the natural colour of the queen's locks.

It is recorded that Mary Queen of Scots obtained wigs from Edinburgh not merely while in Scotland, but during her long and weary captivity in England. From "The True Report of the Last Moments of Mary Stuart," it appears that when the executioner lifted the head by the hair to show it to the spectators, it fell from his hands owing to the hair being false.

We have previously mentioned Pepys' allusions to women and wigs in 1666. Coming down to later times, we read in the Whitehall Evening Post of August 17th, 1727, that when the King, George II., reviewed the Guards, the three eldest Princesses "went to Richmond in riding habits, with hats, and feathers, and periwigs."

It will be seen from the picture of a person with and without a wig that its use made a plain face presentable. There is a good election story of Daniel O'Connell. It is related during a fierce debate on the hustings, O'Connell with his biting witty tongue, attacked his opponent on account of his ill-favoured countenance. But, not to be outdone, and thinking to turn the gathering against O'Connell, his adversary called out, "Take off your wig, and I'll warrant that you'll prove the uglier." The witty Irishman immediately responded, amidst roars of laughter from the crowd, by snatching the wig from off his own head and exposing to view a bald pate, destitute of a single hair. The relative question of beauty was scarcely settled by this amusing rejoinder, but the laugh was certainly on O'Connell's side.