What a magnificent time for colour was this reign!—the rich houppelandes, the furs, the long-piked shoes with pearls and gold upon them, the massive chains about men’s necks; ladies whose heads shone with rich caps and cauls of pearl-embroidered gold, the rich-sheathed baselard stuck in the girdle or hanging from it on a silver chain. Even the poor begging friar was touched by all this finery, and, forgetful of the rules of Saint Francis, he made great haste to convert his alms into a furred cote ‘cutted to the knee and quaintly buttoned, hose in hard weather fastened at the ankle, and buckled shoes.’
Imagine that amazing woman the Wife of Bath, in her great hat and pound-weight kerchief; the carpenter’s wife in her gored apron, at her girdle a purse of leather hanging, decorated with silk tassels and buttons of metal.
It is almost impossible to describe clearly the head-dresses—the great gold net bags which encased the hair—for they were ornamented in such different ways, always, or nearly always, following some pattern in diaper in contrast to the patterns which came later when the design followed such lines as are formed by wire-netting, while later still the connecting-thread of the patterns was done away with and the inside decoration alone remained.
Well, Richard the King no longer can whistle to Matthew, his favourite greyhound, and Anne the Queen lies stately in the Abbey at Westminster without solace of her little lap-dog; but we are not all modern in our ways, and ladies hang charms about them, from scarabs to queer evil eye coral hands, from silver shoes to month-stones. Crowns of flowers have been worn and crowns of jewels too, just as men and women wore them then, except on Fridays and the eves of fêtes.
These things we do, and other ancient things beside, but let us hope that Fashion has lost her cruel mood, and deems it wise to leave our ladies’ eyebrows where they be, nor schemes to inspire her faithful devotees with mad desires to hide their hair and shave their napes.
The crinoline is threatened—let it come; sandals are here, with short hair and the simple life, but leave me, I pray thee, royal dame, an eyebrow on my lady, if only to give occupation to the love-lorn sonneteer.
THE END OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY
