“Scented with Cædar and Sweet Fern
From Heats reflection dry,”
wrote of that welcoming shore one colonist who came on the first ship, and noted in rhyme what he found and saw and felt and smelt. And I see the forefathers standing under the hot little cedar trees of the Massachusetts coast, not sober in sad color, but cheery in russet and scarlet; and sweetbrier and strawberries, bayberry and cedar, smell sweetly and glow genially in that summer sunlight which shines down on us through all these two centuries.
We have ample sources from which to learn precisely what was worn by these first colonists—men and women—gentle and simple. We have minute “Lists of Apparell” furnished by the Colonization Companies to the male colonists; we have also ample lists of apparel supplied to individual emigrants of varied degree; we have inventories in detail of the personal estates of all those who died in the colonies even in the earliest years—inventories wherein even a half-worn pair of gloves is gravely set down, appraised in value, sworn to, and entered in the town records; we have wills giving equal minuteness; we have even the articles of dress themselves preserved from moth and rust and mildew; we have private letters asking that supplies of clothing be sent across seas—clothing substantial and clothing fashionable; we have ships’ bills of lading showing that these orders were carried out; we have curiously minute private letters giving quaint descriptions and hints of new and modish wearing apparel; we have sumptuary laws telling what articles of clothing must not be worn by those of mean estate; we have court records showing trials under these laws; we have ministers’ sermons denouncing excessive details of fashion, enumerating and almost describing the offences; and we have also a goodly number of portraits of men and a few of women. I give in this chapter excellent portraits of the first governors, Endicott, Winthrop, Bradstreet, Winslow; and others could be added. Having all these, do we need fashion-plates or magazines of the modes? We have also for the early years great instruction through comparison and inference in knowing the English fashions of those dates as revealed through inventories, compotuses, accounts, diaries, letters, portraits, prints, carvings, and effigies; and American fashions varied little from English ones.
Governor Edward Winslow.
It is impossible to disassociate the history of costume from the general history of the country where such dress is worn. Nor could any one write upon dress with discrimination and balance unless he knew thoroughly the dress of all countries and likewise the history of all countries. Of the special country, he must know more than general history, for the relations of small things to great things are too close. Influences apparently remote prove vital. At no time was history told in dress, and at no period was dress influenced by historical events more than during the seventeenth century and in the dress of English-speaking folk. The writer on dress should know the temperament and character of the dress wearer; this was of special bearing in the seventeenth century. It would be thought by any one ignorant of the character of the first Puritan settlers, and indifferent to or ignorant of historical facts, that in a new world with all the hardships, restraints, lacks, and inconveniences, no one, even the vainest woman, would think much upon dress, save that it should be warm, comfortable, ample, and durable. But, in truth, such was not the case. Even in the first years the settlers paid close attention to their attire, to its richness, its elegance, its modishness, and watched narrowly also the attire of their neighbors, not only from a distinct liking for dress, but from a careful regard of social distinctions and from a regard for the proprieties and relations of life. Dress was a badge of rank, of social standing and dignity; and class distinctions were just as zealously guarded in America, the land of liberty, as in England. The Puritan church preached simplicity of dress; but the church attendants never followed that preaching. All believed, too, that dress had a moral effect, as it certainly does; that to dress orderly and well and convenable to the existing fashions helped to preserve the morals of the individual and general welfare of the community. Eagerly did the settlers seek every year, every season, by every incoming ship, by every traveller, to learn the changes of fashions in Europe. The first native-born poet, Benjamin Tompson, is quoted in the heading of this chapter in a wail over thus following new fashions, a wail for the “good old times,” as has been the cry of “old fogy” poets and philosophers since the days of the ancient classics.
We have ample proof of the love of dignity, of form, of state, which dominated even in the first struggling days; we can see the governor of Virginia when he landed, turning out his entire force in most formal attire and with full company of forty halberdiers in scarlet cloaks to attend in imposing procession the church services in the poor little church edifice—this when the settlement at Jamestown was scarce more than an encampment.
We can read the words of Winthrop, the governor of Massachusetts, in which he recounts his mortification at the undignified condition of affairs when the governor of the French province, the courtly La Tour, landed unexpectedly in Boston and caught the governor picnicking peacefully with his family on an island in the harbor, with no attendants, no soldiers, no dignitaries. Nor was there any force in the fort, and therefore no salute could be given to the distinguished visitors; and still more mortifying was the sole announcement of this important arrival through the hurried sail across the bay, and the running to the governor of a badly scared woman neighbor. We see Winthrop trying to recover his dignity in La Tour’s eyes (and in his own) by bourgeoning throughout the remainder of the French governor’s stay with an imposing guard of soldiers in formal attendance at every step he took abroad; ordering them to wear, I am sure, their very fullest stuffed doublets and shiniest armor, while he displayed his best black velvet suit of garments. Fortunately for New England’s appearance, Winthrop was a man of such aristocratic bearing and feature that no dress or lack of dress could lower his dignity.